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Time is a funny thing, Euijoo thinks, as he watches the sun set for the second time in one calendar day.
He’d watched her drop behind the horizon in Tokyo hours ago, forehead pressed to the glass of the company van that carried them to the airport. He wasn’t thinking about it then— the fact that he’d be gaining back the entirety of the day without trying. He slept on the plane, and when Nicholas jostled him awake, it was eight in the morning on the same day they’d left.
Euijoo has felt a bit hazy all day. He still doesn’t functionally do well travelling, despite everything. It takes him hours to catch up. Where other members handle every leap with grace, each trip to and from the airport and deviation in timezone sends Euijoo reeling for a bit before he manages to pull himself back on track. High altitudes shift him into leader mode, focused on logistics and getting from point A to point B, keeping everything together through the fog gathered in his skull. It’s functional. Helpful most of the time.
Most of the time, he’s working. He almost forgot what it feels like to not work, body going through the motions without his permission. Like it doesn’t know what else to do.
Earlier, at a scenic overlook on the side of the highway somewhere between the airport and their hotel, Nicholas stepped up beside Euijoo, hand closing around the back of his neck. He squeezed his thumb and index finger at the base of Euijoo’s skull. Lowered his voice and said, “Relax. We’re on vacation.” He worked his fingers in small circles against Euijoo’s muscles until Euijoo unclenched his jaw, a long breath leaking out of his nose.
“I am relaxed,” Euijoo said. It sounded wrong coming out. He knew it sounded wrong to Nicholas as well, but Nicholas didn’t say so. He let his grip loosen slightly, dragging his hand further down Euijoo’s neck, palm flat, settling between his shoulder blades.
Euijoo’s skin prickled with gooseflesh. He looked over his shoulder no less than three times, heart jumping haphazardly in his chest.
He can’t quite name what he’s so afraid of these days, but it’s a constant, lurking shadow, hanging behind him, threatening to close in. They’re becoming too recognizable to be comfortable existing normally in public. Someone could always take a picture. Send it to someone else. Post it online.
He can’t quite name what he’s so afraid of these days, but it’s the entirely unreasonable idea that his desire will be plain on his face. Able to be conveyed through photograph or video. He can feel it seeping out of his pores nearly constantly. Dripping out of his tear ducts and materializing in the air every time he exhales.
So plain to him that he feels the prickle of paranoia at the mere concept of someone stealing it from him. Putting him on display like that— a man with his friend’s hand between his shoulderblades, mawed open from belly to throat, absolutely rotten with want. The type of yearning that festers in the deepest, toughest flesh, chewing from the inside out.
He can’t quite name what he’s so afraid of these days, but it has everything to do with Nicholas. Euijoo is just circling the drain, waiting for it to swallow him whole.
He’s done a good job at staving it off until now. An exercise in self-control that no one asked him to practice. Actually, a few months ago, Fuma approached him and asked him to stop. Explicitly. He caught Euijoo after practice, ill-timed eye contact through the mirror pinning Euijoo in place until Fuma’s hand curled around his bicep. Voice low, Fuma said, “Euijoo, you’re allowed to want things. You don’t need to torture yourself as an act of valor.”
Euijoo looked at him, exhaustion allowing him to maintain his neutrality. “I don’t know what you mean,” he lied.
Fuma sighed, but didn’t push him. Instead, he pressed pity in Euijoo’s direction. The disappointment of an exasperated older brother. It didn’t feel horrible, at the time, to have another pit of guilt form between his stomach and intestines. Euijoo was used to it by then. He took it in stride. Ignored Fuma’s eyes for the rest of the week and moved on.
It’s hard to explain why Euijoo is the way he is, even when he tries to think about it himself. Responsibility, mostly. Guilt, too, and a sour, everpresent sense of dread. A streak of insecurity deep enough to touch his heart, but scabbed over by years of forced confidence.
There’s few things Euijoo has allowed himself to want in this lifetime. Or, he was so occupied with desperation to be something— to be someone— that nothing else got in the way. To debut, and then to make sure it stuck. Three years into sticking, and the want is wearing thin in a way he didn’t expect. There was never a point where he could imagine wanting something other than what he has. Now that he has it, he’s forced to examine where he goes from here. The rest of the picture. Circling the drain.
The sun is setting for the second time today— though it’s set many more times between when Euijoo watched it the first time and now. Thousands of others watched the sun set on the same day. Thousands of sunsets in one calendar day.
Euijoo exhales, sweaty fingers sliding over the railing of the balcony off of his and Nicholas’s hotel room. It’s a nice resort. Something the company pulled strings to get them into on short notice after Euijoo brought up the idea. There wasn’t a question of if he’d go home for his break, only if Nicholas would. But Nicholas didn’t hesitate when Euijoo presented the idea. He picked Euijoo’s hand up off the cushion of the sofa where it laid between them and played with his fingers. Said, “I’ll go wherever you want, Juju.”
Selfishly, Euijoo didn’t ask Nicholas if he was sure. He snatched the chance and ran. Suggested Hawaii. Warm, and beautiful, and quiet. A complete change of pace from Tokyo and Seoul. Nicholas bloomed, like he was happy Euijoo had thought of him at all. As if Euijoo isn’t thinking of him all the time.
The company sent a manager with them, but they didn’t blink when Euijoo told them he and Nicholas could share a room. Euijoo’s half-formed excuse sat useless on his tongue, remaining unasked for.
It’s still there, stuck in the middle of his throat. To save money, maybe, or, neither of us are used to sleeping alone because we’re so close in the dorms. Anything he came up with would be less than convincing. He doesn't know who he’s trying to fool. Himself, maybe. He feels like the only one that doesn’t understand what’s going on.
He and Nicholas aren’t anything, but they’re not nothing.
It’s in the weight of the air when they get too close to one another, and the way their manager naturally averts his gaze when Nicholas touches Euijoo, no matter how casual. It’s in the way Euijoo had no good excuse to request a one room for the two of them, but he did it anyway, without asking Nicholas first. It’s in the way Nicholas blossomed when he realized, standing at the check-in counter.
The sun looks wobbly through the humidity in the air. An egg yolk hanging in the sky, gold melting into pink and orange, a light breeze brushing through the palms. Euijoo can hear himself think for the first time in months. He doesn’t know if he likes it.
He doesn’t flinch when he hears the screen door slide open behind him. He takes a breath in. The door clicks shut behind Nicholas. Exhale.
There’s a few seconds of stillness. No sign of life. Euijoo almost turns. He expected Nicholas to say something. Make a joke, or comment on the weather. The sunset, maybe. To come and stand next to him, shoulder to shoulder.
Instead, Nicholas’s hands find Euijoo’s waist. Tentative at first, sitting at the narrowest dip, testy. Euijoo’s breath hitches, but he instinctively melts. Surrenders to the numbness in his skull. There’s nothing but trees and ocean in front of them. Nowhere for anyone to hide and intrude. Just them and the sun.
Nicholas moves again, stepping closer, his arms snaking around Euijoo. He drags his palms up Euijoo’s chest, and then back down. Comes to rest with his chin on Euijoo’s shoulder, hugging him around his middle. Euijoo can feel him flush against his back. Warm and solid. Nicholas’s shuddering exhale tickles Euijoo’s ear, hair on the back of his neck pricking up.
Euijoo swallows, excuses burning as they go down. He lifts a hand off the railing, laying it over Nicholas’s forearm. His skin is smooth and hairless. An unfortunate side-effect of their profession. Euijoo would like it if he could feel Nicholas as a whole. Nose to skin. Tongue flat to taste.
He startles himself with the earnestness of his thoughts. His heart skips a beat, like he’s nervous Nicholas might hear something he hasn’t said out loud. As if they’re not both aware of what this means. Of why Euijoo requested just the one room.
Nicholas releases another long breath, hot and wet against Euijoo’s neck. His lips graze Euijoo’s skin, not quite committing to the touch. The tip of his nose is cold, brushing against Euijoo’s pulsepoint. Euijoo’s head drops to the side with a trembling breath, affording Nicholas more space to explore.
For his part, Nicholas takes it in stride. He makes a tiny, satisfied noise in the back of his throat, fingers pushing into the softness of Euijoo’s belly. He lets his lips drag over Euijoo’s shoulder more solidly, a tease before the real thing. A lingering kiss laid to the crook of Euijoo’s neck.
Euijoo swallows back what he can only assume would have manifested as a whimper. His eyes threaten to close, stinging against the strength of the sun, still peeking above the horizon.
“Is this okay?” Nicholas asks lowly, practically a whisper against the shell of Euijoo’s ear.
A broken laugh spills from Euijoo’s lips. Sharp and unsteady. What a question, while he’s here, bearing his neck, fileting himself, guts spilling onto the concrete of the balcony. Practically shoving his still-beating heart straight into Nicholas’s hands. He didn’t have a good excuse for why he and Nicholas would share a room. Nicholas didn’t ask for one. No one did.
“I can wait, Euijoo. I don’t want this to be another one off,” Nicholas says. He stamps another kiss to the spot behind Euijoo’s ear. “I’m following your lead, here.”
That’s the problem, isn’t it? The one Euijoo can’t quite name. A portion of it, at least.
There was one time, in all the years Euijoo and Nicholas have known each other, that Euijoo slipped up. The first sign of the impending breakdown of Euijoo’s defenses. A little over a year ago, right after the Yukiakari release.
Euijoo could come up with a million reasons for why he let it happen. He and Nicholas were at the company late, sitting in a studio, fucking around on the computer and reading through fan comments on the music video. Nicholas looked at Euijoo, and Euijoo was already looking at him. It was late. Euijoo was tired. He was happy. Nicholas looked pretty in the blue light of the computer screen. Euijoo could come up with a million reasons for why he let it happen, but they’d all be as useless as his hotel room excuse.
Nicholas reached out first. He held Euijoo’s cheek in his hand, eyes dragging over Euijoo’s face. He gave him ample time to withdraw. To turn away, or pull back, or tell him no. But, he didn’t. There’s a million excuses as to why he let Nicholas kiss him— none of them adequate.
It was a nice kiss. Slow. Careful. Like Nicholas was afraid Euijoo would break in two. Nicholas tasted like the chapstick he always uses. He kissed Euijoo like he meant it, and then it was over. Nicholas looked at Euijoo again, eyes dragging over Euijoo’s face.
Euijoo suddenly felt like he needed to cry. The words bubbled out of him without much thought behind them, “I can’t right now.”
Nicholas didn’t argue. He quit touching Euijoo. He looked disappointed, and sad, but not angry. “When?” he asked, voice small.
“I don’t know.” Euijoo shook his head. His mouth felt too dry. “Maybe when things slow down. I don’t know—” he laughed, but it sounded wrong. Nicholas winced. “I don’t know when I’ll be ready. If I’ll be ready.”
“Okay,” Nicholas said. He shut his mouth, and Euijoo could see something working through his head. Rolling over and taking shape behind his eyes. “I don’t mind waiting for you. However long it takes.”
Euijoo quit thinking after that. He shut down. Nodded once, and muttered out some excuse for having to leave that they both knew was bullshit. He shrugged on his coat, and mechanically walked down the hallway. When he got into the elevator, he didn’t press a button, he just leaned against the wall, and slid down into a crouch, head in his hands as the doors slid shut. He still doesn’t know how long he sat there— until someone else pressed a button on another floor, and the thing groaned to life. Euijoo stood up, and wiped away the few stray tears that had fallen down his cheeks.
By the time the elevator doors opened again, he had tucked away his desire into the deepest part of his chest, where he’s been storing the rest of it for years. He knew it wouldn’t last long, not with how crowded it already was in the space between his ribs.
In a way, he knew this was coming. Things had slowed down. He asked to share a room with Nicholas. Any excuse he could come up with would pale in comparison to the truth.
“Nichol, I think I’m in love with you,” Euijoo admits, voice strong against the stillness of the evening— the sun halved by the ocean, and the palms quiet between gusts of wind.
As soon as he says it, he feels a weight lift off his shoulders. The claws of dread locked into the sinew of his muscle loosening up. Shadow looming behind him shrunk against the change in light.
Nicholas goes still behind him, the shallow exhale he releases is cold against Euijoo’s skin. Nicholas has always been gentle with Euijoo, though. Conscious of how he moves around Euijoo, and how he cares for him. He doesn’t give Euijoo time to overthink it.
He pushes through his shock, arms moving to turn Euijoo around, fingers insistent against his flank.
Euijoo goes, feet getting tangled as he moves. Nicholas pins him against the balcony, railing pressing into the middle of Euijoo’s back. The sunset reflects against Nicholas’s face, golden and pretty. Nicholas’s eyes drag over Euijoo’s face, the same way they did before he kissed him last time. Like he’s looking for answers without asking for them.
“Are you sure?” Nicholas murmurs, thumbs digging into the shallow divots of Euijoo’s hip bones. His throat bobs when he swallows, eyebrows pulling together.
“I’m sure,” Euijoo confirms, pressing the pad of his thumb to the center of Nicholas’s forehead, attempting to smooth out the wrinkle there. A wild giggle escapes his throat, spurred on by a wave of adrenaline. “I’m sure,” he repeats.
Nicholas laughs, unlaced and beautiful. He draws closer, until their hips are aligned, one of his hands hooking around the nape of Euijoo’s neck. Euijoo’s arms naturally fall to his waist, stabilizing. Nicholas presses his forehead against Euijoo’s, breath tickling his lips.
“I’m sorry,” Euijoo breathes, exhuming the last pit of guilt buried in his stomach. “I’m so sorry, Nichol.”
“Stop,” Nicholas demands. He digs his thumb into the hinge of Euijoo’s jaw. “Let me catch up.”
Euijoo nods wordlessly.
Nicholas kisses him instead of saying anything more.
It’s a good kiss. Firm. Sure of itself. Warm. Euijoo curls around Nicholas automatically, arms tightening at the small of his back. Nicholas bows into Euijoo, and Euijoo curves towards Nicholas— a perfect fit. Nicholas tastes like the chapstick he always uses, and the dragonfruit he was eating a little while ago. He kisses Euijoo like he means it, and then it’s over.
“We should go inside before it gets cold,” Nicholas says, voice adequately wrecked.
Euijoo loses his ability to speak, nodding dumbly instead. He lets Nicholas peel off of him, take his hand, and lead him back inside.
Nicholas pushes Euijoo towards the bed, turning around and shutting the door behind them. Euijoo watches, sinking down onto the mattress, hands flat on either side of his thighs. Nicholas runs a hand through his hair, unable to hide his smile. He clicks on the lamp at the bedside before coming to sit next to Euijoo.
There it is, Euijoo thinks. The weight of the air when they get too close to one another. Heady and dizzying. Electric.
It’s hard to say who moves first. The more important part is that they both move, reaching for each other. They meet in the middle, lips slotting together less innocently than before, Euijoo’s hand cupping Nicholas’s jaw, Nicholas crowding closer, throwing himself halfway into Euijoo’s lap. Euijoo can feel the light scratch of Nicholas’s stubble under his thumb. He shudders involuntarily, Nicholas taking the opportunity to lick into his mouth.
Euijoo’s stifled whimper from earlier finds its place, deposited onto Nicholas’s tongue. Pathetic and restless, followed by the world spinning as Nicholas pushes him onto his back, settling fully into his lap.
When he pulls back, Nicholas looks undone. His lips are pink and wet with spit, cheeks flushed. Euijoo’s gut stirs, chest heaving, looking up at Nicholas as if he’s a forgiving god. Desperate for another chance. To make it count.
“I love you too, Euijoo,” Nicholas says, hands planted on Euijoo’s chest, the one over his heart clenching slightly. He can probably feel the beat of it, strong and wild through Euijoo’s skin. “You know, right?”
Euijoo knows. He’s known. It’s something he’s locked away, and refused to acknowledge. He’ll never forgive himself for how long he’s known. He’ll try to make it up to Nicholas now. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s hard for me to say.”
“Stop apologizing. I know you, Juju. It’s okay.” Nicholas dips down, hands tight around Euijoo’s wrists, pinning them to the bed on either side of his head. “You can make it up to me now.”
Their next kiss is all consuming. Hot and messy. Euijoo wrestles his hands out of Nicholas’s grip, running them up Nicholas’s thighs, underneath his shirt, nails scraping against skin as Euijoo maps out his shape. He’s been surviving off of fragments. Bits and pieces stolen between faux disinterest. Nothing like this. Nothing real.
Nicholas rolls his hips, pointed and mean. He steals the moan straight from Euijoo’s mouth, rutting forward again in a slow, lazy canter.
Euijoo doesn't know if it’s too fast. He feels like it’s too slow. The spark has been burning under his skin for months. Years, maybe. He’s never going to be able to give this up again, now that he has it. It’ll kill him. It might kill him anyway.
They’re a deep breath held a few seconds too long. Whole, instantaneous relief when resolve breaks, nose pushed above the water.
It’s too much, and it’s not enough, and Euijoo is hard in his shorts, cock straining against fabric. He can feel Nicholas against his leg, just as worked up. Nicholas is kissing him like they’re running out of time— like the timer started as soon as his blood traveled south.
“Nicho—” Euijoo’s voice cracks, grip tight on Nicholas’s hips, holding him close. Another rogue groan rips out of his throat when Nicholas grinds down again, slow and drawn out. “If you don’t stop— fuck, Nicholas—”
Euijoo bends his legs behind Nicholas’s ass, splaying one palm across his back and using his remaining strength to flip them over. Nicholas gasps, legs locked around Euijoo’s waist. He hits the bed with a soft oof, breath coming quickly, shirt rucked up over his stomach.
A wave of fondness overtakes Euijoo, filling his chest with warmth, heart expanding, pressing against his ribs. Nicholas looks at him with a sort of reverence that Euijoo knows well. The same kind that Euijoo feels when he looks at Nicholas. A natural unexplainable thing. It’s always been like that with them. From the start.
When Euijoo bears down, it’s with more purpose than Nicholas was moving with. A clear goal in mind. His nose bumps into Nicholas’s, breath wet against his cheek.
He wants to take Nicholas’s clothes off. He wants to spend all night kissing him. Every centimeter of his body, uncovered bit by bit, committed to memory.
He’s impatient. He’s scared. They have three days to get there. Three days to slow down.
“Is it okay?” Euijoo asks, heat coiling in his gut. “Like this? Do you need more?”
Nicholas twists his fingers into Euijoo’s hair, forcing Euijoo to look him in the eye. His pupils are blown out, eyes dark. “I just need you.”
Euijoo lays a line of sloppy kisses down Nicholas’s jaw, fucking against him hard and fast. He replays each noise Nicholas makes in his head, determined to memorize the litany.
His teeth bite a little too hard at Nicholas’s neck. It might bruise. They have three days. Euijoo kisses the spot afterwards, murmuring his apology.
Nicholas takes Euijoo’s face in his hands, directing him back up so they’re eye to eye. Euijoo doesn’t have to ask if he’s close. He can tell. Nicholas’s eyes are glassy, eyelids heavy.
“Say my name, please,” he begs.
“Nichol. Nicholas—” Euijoo says, entirely devoted. “Yixiang.”
Nicholas exhales shakily, head thrown back against the pillow, eyes fixed on Euijoo.
He looks pretty when he cums, Euijoo learns. He gets all breathy, and trembles, and his hips stutter helplessly as he experiences the force of it. If Euijoo were to check, he’s sure he’d find Nicholas’s toes curled, trying to bear the weight of pleasure.
When Euijoo finishes, it’s with Nicholas holding him. Whispering praise into his ear, providing a firm thigh to rut against.
He kisses Euijoo afterwards. Or Euijoo kisses him. They both move, so it doesn’t matter who was first.
It’s a perfect kiss. Their lips stick together, dried out from frantic breaths. Nicholas strokes a thumb over Euijoo’s cheek, gentle in his care up until the final buzzer.
They’re both too worn out to continue for long. Euijoo slides off of Nicholas, slotting against his side as a compromise.
Nicholas’s mouth twitches up at the corner. His eyes drag over Euijoo’s face. He won’t ask, Euijoo knows. He’ll wait forever, if that’s what Euijoo makes him do. It’s a horrible feeling— and simultaneously desperately romantic. Euijoo won’t make him wait any longer. He’d like to commit to wanting outside of himself, for once.
Euijoo picks up Nicholas’s arm, dragging his nose up the inside of his forearm until he reaches the heel of his palm. He looks up through his lashes, meeting Nicholas’s sleep-heavy eyes as he presses a kiss to the inside of his wrist. A sleepy smile pulls at Nicholas’s lips.
“I’m in love with you, Nicholas,” Euijoo says, all remaining uncertainty dulled to a low hum as he comes to terms with allowing himself something good.
Nicholas twists his hand in Euijoo’s grasp, fingers pushing up into Euijoo’s hair. “I know,” he murmurs.
Some entirely unreasonable part of Euijoo’s hindbrain worries— when he posts updates from their trip, that his desire will be plain on his face. Able to be conveyed through photograph and video. He can feel it seeping out of his pores nearly constantly. Dripping out of his tear ducts and materializing in the air every time he exhales.
So plain to him that he feels the prickle of paranoia at the mere concept of someone stealing it from him. Now it’s crystalized into something real. A two way street. Putting him on display like that— a man in love, mawed open from belly to throat, absolutely rotten with want. The type of yearning that festers in the deepest, toughest flesh, chewing from the inside out.
Another, more ugly and possessive part of him, hopes it’s clear. That everyone knows exactly what he and Nicholas are, no matter how dangerous it is. That they’ll see, as soon as they lay eyes on the photos, that he and Nicholas are whatever they are.
Maybe the answer to Euijoo’s fear is to shift the aim of his want.
Euijoo wants everything to work out. He wants them to be happy, and successful, and for everything to settle how it’s meant to.
Time is a funny thing. He’s not sure why he was destined to find Nicholas in this set of circumstances— but he knows it’s right— as unlikely as it was for the two of them to grow together this way. Inexplicably entwined. It shouldn’t have happened at all. A series of favorable coin tosses. Euijoo isn’t sure why he deserves to win them all, but he’d like to stop questioning it so often.
Stranger things have happened. He watched the sun set twice on the same calendar day.