Archive of Our Own

It was the hottest summer of Euijoo's life. The sun radiated, even through the kitchen's blinds, like it was being paid for it and did so unforgivingly. It was the type of heat that forced you to stay inside until the sun went down and the clouds offered an apologetic shade for the suns unwavering rudeness.

So Euijoo laid on the couch, his head rested against the back of it, as he stared out of the window. It was something—other than staying holed up in his room as he usually did. The ac always pushed a little harder in the living area.

It was the usual though;

Mr. Murata and his son, Fuma, were throwing the football back and forth with sweat stuck to their bodies like it was a given. They didn't seem to mind, never did when it came to two athletic bodies like theirs. Kei, Fuma's bestfriend, sat in the shade under the big large tree with his brother, Taki, while they watched the two throw. If anything they had the most common sense out of all of them—and though Euijoo would never say the actual words out loud, it was hot as hell outside.

Mrs. Asakura was outside refreshening her garden in a skirt that Euijoo himself deemed too short—he still opted to mind his business as Jo and Yuma, two of his other friends, walked towards where Kei and Taki sat. In their hands they held games and icecream that was melting down their fingers and onto their arms.

However, something that wasn't as usual was the large moving truck that was now blocking the brunette's view. U-Haul—in Euijoo's neighborhood? Where everyone knew everyone and even the people that didn't know anyone still heard of atleast someone?

Euijoo sat up, repositioning himself—laid his arm against the back of the couch and perched his head on top—and continued watching as the truck came to a stop and two, no four bodies exited. A man and a woman who were obviously adults got out of the driver and passenger seats. From the back, a girl—no older than 20—got out as well as a boy who looked to be around Euijoo's age, or maybe even a little younger or maybe older.

His sharp eyes that sat atop his soft, pink tinted cheeks made it hard to decipher to his age.

At this point Mr. Murata and Fuma stopped throwing the football. Everyone's attention, including Euijoo's, was on the truck that was now occupying the driveway of the old house that no one lived in. Kei once mentioned in passing that it was haunted by the spirits of this sacred land. Fuma didn't bite, but everyone else—younger—did.

The brunette himself vowed to never step a foot close to or near the house.

Mrs. Byun came into the living area as well to see what was going on. She must've been on the phone with Mrs. Shigeta—the two were always talking about something—when she asked, "Who is that?"

In her hand she held freshly squeezed lemonade and offered Euijoo a cup. "I dunno. They came out of nowhere." He responded, his head still lazily resting against his arm as he took the glass and sipped a large gulp. She dusted her hands on her apron, threw it on the couch, and ushered Euijoo to his feet. "Well, don't be rude. I see that boy must atleast be your age, go say hi, make some new friends."

"I already have friends though. They're literally all outside as we speak."

"Then make more. There's no harm in making someone feel welcomed." His mom went back into the kitchen. Probably to get something, probably to stall, he didn't know. His steps were lazy as he approached the door—chopped it up to it just being way too hot to attempt small talk.

When Euijoo finally opened the door and stepped out, the heat didn't waste a second before it blasted against his face, down to his neck, and then to any exposed skin on his arms and legs. He groaned but left the shade of his porch all the same.

Of course, Kei and Fuma were already talking to the boy. It seemed as if a joke had been shared between the three of them because of the way the boy beamed a flashy, bright smile and his eyes crinkled in on themselves.

Euijoo found himself staring at him, not to see what he was laughing about or what could possibly be so funny, but because he couldn't bring himself to look anywhere else.

He felt sick.

Yes, it was hot,

Yes, he'd rather be anywhere else but at the mercy of the burning sun,

But that's not why his stomach turned in on itself.

Euijoo continued walking over anyway.

"But it's okay because you'll be with—" Kei stopped talking once Euijoo was in sight, clasping his arm around his shoulder once he was close enough, "Euijoo. Who is right on time as always."

The boy held out his hand. "My names' Nicholas but everyone calls me Nico." Euijoo nodded and took his hand into his own. Surprisingly it wasn't as sweaty as Euijoo's. His cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red, and not because of the way the humidity was clung to his skin. "Euijoo."

"You're 16 too?" Now that he was closer, Nicholas' eyes weren't as sharp as they were from a distance. Close, where Euijoo stood ever so taller than him, (literally barely a whisker of hair) his eyes appeared doe'd. Closer, Nicholas seemed to be at Euijoo's mercy. He didn't look as threatening as he did far away.

Nico was soft.

The conversation that followed was simple and easy. Euijoo asked where Nicholas was from, his Japanese seemed just as rocky as Euijoo's when he first came to the country. To which he replied, "Taiwan. My Papa got a job here so that's kinda where we're at right now. I guess we'll be here until they call him somewhere else." And then low enough for only Euijoo to hear, or maybe low enough so that Euijoo wouldn't hear, Nicholas spoke again, "Maybe here, i'll stay."

Without realizing it Euijoo had spent the entirety of the hottest day of his life outside.

Once Euijoo and Nicholas were done getting to know the basics of one another: that Euijoo was from Korea, that Nicholas can speak 4 languages, that Euijoo is the captain of the fencing team—that Nicholas didn't even know there was a fencing team (Euijoo would make it his mission to get him hip enough so that hopefully they can match against one another), and that this wasn't Nicholas' first time having moved across the country so suddenly.

Following his whispering earlier, Nicholas explained that sometimes his fathers job called for them to move often, never allowing himself to truly settle in one place. The black haired boy claimed this time would be different, that this job placement was more permanent.

A small, little, barely there part of Euijoo hoped that it was true.

That maybe here, Nico will stay.

He introduced him to the rest of the friend group. Excluding Kei and Fuma who he'd already met and Harua who was currently grounded for stealing 2 chocolate bars from the local convenience store—Mrs. Shigeta grabbed him by his ear so rough and made him swear that he'd spend everyday of the first 2 weeks of summer cleaning the store for free. So he was currently out serving his sentence.

Yuma was the first to speak once they got over formalities, "Can you say somethin' in Chinese?"

Nicholas just smiled and sat against the tree, like he belonged, as if he didn't just come from a U-Haul. Euijoo didn't mind it, but he couldn't mindlessly ignore it like everyone else seemed to either. "It's Mandrin and, Wǒ xiǎng wǒ huì xǐhuān zhèlǐ."

"What does that mean?" Yuma voice spoke again. His heavy accent making him stumble over some words. When Euijoo first got to Japan, and as Nicholas is, was recruited into the group, he couldn't understand a word the boy said. Relied heavily on Fuma to translate because Yuma never cared enough to soften the edged syllables for the brunette's delicate ears. He was unapologetically himself in that way. Nicholas didn't seem to have that same problem though, just answered in that same easy-going tone, "Long way of saying i'm happy."

"Yixiang, you can talk later. Come help Papa unload these boxes!" His sister called.

He stood, wiped the dirt from his bottom, and waved to the group. "I have to go help or my sister'll snitch. If you guys are still out by the time i'm done i'll be back."

They all waved goodbye.

Nicholas looked at Euijoo last.

Euijoo didn't miss it.

Neither did Nicholas.

Nicholas didn’t come back that evening. Euijoo did see him walking in and out of his new house with boxes that were way larger than the boy. His black hair barely peeking around them so he didn't trip over a step.

To pass time, and to get his mom off his back, Euijoo remained outside with his friends. Talking about dumb stuff like a new anime that Yuma was definitely going to binge and to not expect him to come outside within the next 5 days, a new pencil collection Jo was happy about but didn’t expect anyone to get for him—Euijoo made a reminder to save up—and finally Kei and Fuma who were entering their senior year and needed to start thinking about their futures.

It was a regular school-free monday.

Euijoo wouldn't want it any other way.

Eventually the sun calmed down from its furious tantrum. The clouds covered it in its chilled hold, rocking it to peace.

Euijoo felt that same way and bid his friends goodbye.

Before walking into his own home he stared at the house next to his. As he went to bed—back against his headboard, and covers pulled up to his lap—he hoped the house truly wasn't haunted.

Nicholas deserved atleast that much: a good first nights rest in his new home.

Nicholas fit in without any fanfare.

The next day when everyone was done eating breakfast and the sun was just beginning to peek it's head from the clouds, Euijoo went outside.

Kei was already there—always up before anyone else—helping Nicholas with his bike. The chain was on the ground at his feet as he sat on the curb with the black haired boy.

Euijoo was quiet as he approached, Nicholas looked up, "Goodmorning."

Kei spoke the same greeting and immediately went back to fixing the bike. Euijoo greeted back, it was polite, and simple, and allowed him to sit back down without any awkwardness sifting through the early morning air.

"What's wrong with it?"

He looked down to the bike and shrugged his shoulders. Bringing his knees up to his chest and resting his chin there, "I dunno. I brought it out of the truck and the wheels were stuck. Kei said he knew how to fix it."

Euijoo knew Kei most likely didn't know what he was doing. But something inside the older boy would rather himself struggle himself than someone else. Euijoo admired him in that way and didn't tell Nicholas that his bike would probably end up in a worse condition than what he started with.

In the distance doors closed which meant it wasn't just about to be the three of them anymore.

Quitely, Jo sat on the curb, surprisingly next to Nicholas, and muttered something to him. Nicholas dusted his bottom, said, "I'll be back." to Kei, and walked away with Jo.

No one seemed any different as the older boy just nodded his head and continued on the bike.

"Where are they going?"

"To play basketball."

"And they're friends just like that?"

Kei finally looked up, his hands stilled on the chain, with his head turned towards Euijoo, "Nico's cool, he's nice, and he wants to be our friend. Is there a problem with that?"

Euijoo didn't say anything but just shook his head and mimicked Nicholas's pose from earlier.

Euijoo just thought about how long it took for him to feel comfortable enough with the group. He didn't envy Nicholas for his ability to adapt, just wanted to know how many times he had to move in order for it to be so natural for him.

Euijoo had just gotten done spotting Fuma on the bench when he noticed that Jo and Nicholas still weren't back. Again, no one seemed to mind it nor wonder why the two were taking so long, but Euijoo wasn't them.

Euijoo was probably just too curious for his own good. So when he noticed that Fuma wouldn't attempt another set, he left his basement and started down the sidewalk.

With him, he brought two cold water bottles.

The court, or rather the park, wasn't far from their neighborhood. A good 5 minute walk if he enjoyed himself, 3 if he sped—which he did.

As he turned the corner he heard the sound of shoes scraping against the pavement, huffed breaths, and the sound of a ball hitting the ground repeatedly.

Nicholas was crossing the ball between his legs, his eyes low, lips lazy, as Jo stood in front of him sporting an expression he's never seen before.

He'd never seen the taller boy so relaxed and, confident? That's not to say Jo was overly shy and didn't like to put himself out there because when needed Jo could be the most outspoken person ever but here, in the confines of nothing but the court and the metal gate that surrounded it, he was a different person.

Euijoo was as quiet as he always was as he opened the gate and went over to the bleachers. They didn't seem to mind. The only acknowledgment he got was from Nicholas and that was a simple once over and then back to the ball.

"Game point?" He asked, his black hair pouring over his eyes.

"Game point." The taller boy replied. His hands were now on his knees, his face sweaty, and hands reaching out for the ball.

In a split second, Nicholas took the ball from between his legs and bounced it on his side. He faked Jo from his left and sprinted to the goal. Jo wasn't too far behind and once he got close enough, he reached for the ball but he was too late. It was already in the air and into the net. The swish sound being the only thing between heavy breathing and sweat slicked hands.

"Hah!" Nicholas yelled as he laid back on the ground. It was definitely dirty but as hot as he was, Euijoo gave him some grace.

Jo only smiled and held a hand out, "So we're tied?"

"Only until tomorrow when I kick your ass again."

Euijoo walked from his seat to where Nicholas was laid flat against the pavement and Jo still held his arm out and waved the bottles in their faces. "Guessing I was the only one smart enough to think of these?"

"Oh, you're a godsend, Juju."

His breathing sputtered, cheeks heated, and he's sure his heart stopped. Was Euijoo dying? Is it possible to die from a nickname?

It hadn't even been a full week since he'd met the boy and now he wasn't Euijoo, but Juju.

Nicholas must've noticed the way he stilled and spoke again, "What—is Juju something personal?"

He shook his head. He was being sensitive, but why? The nickname didn't bother him, it was more that he'd never had a nickname before. Sure some people would call him Byun, like Yuma when he wanted to be especially annoying, but nothing endearing. Nothing to be called everyday, something casual, or was it? Did it mean something to Nicholas? Did it mean as much to Nicholas as it meant to Euijoo?

"No, you can call me Juju. 'S cool." He shrugged.

He didn't miss the way Jo stared at him.

He lied, and Jo wouldn't say a word.

He couldn't.

Just let me have this one thing, please, his face read.

It was becoming more usual that instead of spending their days outside like everyone else Euijoo and Nicholas would instead be over one one another's house. This day it was Euijoo's home that was filled with the sounds of smacking lips and fingers that were pressed too hard on the cheap controllers Euijoo saved for.

Nicholas turned his body to the side as if it'd help him in his mission to beat Euijoo, "Dude this player sucks!"

The brunette just laughed. He was good at this game. He liked seeing Nicholas have to work extra hard just to keep up with him. "You sure it's not just you?"

Soon the screen flashed with, GAME OVER, and Nicholas—without warning—wasn't in his unofficial designated spot on the beanbag, but across the couch and ontop Euijoo. Pulling and pushing him with no real bite, no intent to hurt, just to ruffle him up. "This is what you get for being too good, Juju." He muttered heavily in between pulls and heaved breaths.

Euijoo who wasn't as strong as he knew Nicholas was, still flipped them until they were on the floor and Euijoo was ontop instead. He looked down into Nicholas's eyes. The same ones that would only turn large and innocent under his gaze. The only ones that could make him feel.. feel.

Feel what?

What was he feeling right now? The butterflies that were suppsoed to be calm, clawed at his insides, trying to find some way to escape.

His jumbled brain that kept him ontop of Nicholas for a little too long. So long that he wasn't even attacking the black haired boy as he did him, but pinning his wrists above his head so that he wouldn't move.

"Aren't you gonna do something to me, Juju?"

Euijoo scrambled off the boy and ran a hurried hand through his hair. He had no where to be, but his body reacted all the same.

He quietly picked up his controller and shoved it Nicholas' way, ignoring the way he looked at him as if he just knew what was going through his head.

He hated it.

Get out of my mind, Nichol', he would often find himself saying.

"Shut up and que another game…" And then, when the silence became unbearable—atleast for Euijoo—he offered, "More chips?"

Nicholas just nodded. Euijoo thanked whatever god had spared him and allowed him even a second of a break. Euijoo walked to the kitchen faster than his legs would allow and messier than his brain could counter.

He didn't know what he felt.

He just knew that he wanted it gone.

Summer passed by in a complete blur.

Days filled with nothing but sun burned skin and sweat slicked hair was behind them and school was in session.

Euijoo didn't hate school.

But he also wasn't good at it.

He often found himself struggling.

Learning in Korea was already enough. The characters would get jumbled in his mind or the numbers that he'd have to plug in would float and dance around his paper—never just staying in their place above the fraction symbol or in front of their exponents.

In Japan it was a different playing field, entirely. It was about the same material but it just wasn't home. It wasn't Ms. Jung giving him extra attention in the classroom—asking him more specific questions and giving him a warm, knowing looking when the answer wasn't quite right—not because he wanted it, but because she knew he needed it. It wasn't the librarian saving him a couple books, without his library card, so lunch could pass by just a little easier.

Euijoo missed home more than he let on.

He still didn't tell anyone about it.

But school was fun when it could be.

Fuma made it his personal mission to tutor the brunette whenever he could—stopping by his house on random evenings and asking, "Mrs. Sato was a pain today. Look at all this homework she assigned. Wanna do it together?"

Euijoo knew he couldn't help Fuma with his work no more than a fish could breathe air, but more that the older boy wanted an excuse to help him.

Still, with a smile on his face and the creak of the door opening further, he responded, "Sure."

With Nicholas it was easier. They only had two classes together. Euijoo was stuck in regular while they gave Nicholas—the foreigner—more advanced classes. The brunette remembered how he complained all day of the schedule pick up. Kicking his feet and whining in a voice Euijoo loved to tease, "How could they do this to me? I'm new here!"

He didn't buy it. Euijoo knew he was smart.

Nicholas could do anything.

Soon, with Fuma too busy with weight training, Nicholas began to tutor Euijoo. Instead of sitting in the cafeteria with their friends, they went to the quiet of the library, sitting at the table near the window Euijoo liked to peer out of, and spread all of their notebooks across the open space.

"C'mon. Focus, Juju." He would softly beg, no actual annoyance behind his words.

Euijoo would rest his head against the table and stare at Nicholas for no other reason than just to be in the moment with him. One of the few moments where he didn't have to share him or fight stilly for his attention. There, in the room filled with nothing but books and dust, he had all of Nicholas. It was just for the 30 minutes that lunch lasted but Euijoo enjoyed every second.

He sat up, picked up his pencil, and listened to whatever the black haired boy said.

The words still lifted and danced around the paper when they could but with Nicholas they were grounded. With Nicholas' stern look and softened tone the words sat, got scolded, and stilled long enough so that Euijoo could read them.

Nicholas had that affect on Euijoo too.

The first time Euijoo saw someone being dirty was when he was at the beach. They were 4 hours away from home and left the customs that came with it.

The beach was loud and lively whereas his home was quiet and calm. No one stopped to look around to see how their actions could cause someone to turn their lips up in disgust.

Two men came from the water, holding hands.

Euijoo who was on the burning sand with his sister, watched.

Their steps melted into each other, they were so close.

Then, as if it didnt matter who saw, they kissed.

His mom groaned and covered his and his sisters eyes. "Ugh, this is why we stay home. People think it's okay to be dirty." His mom didn't know how much her mindless words affected how he would continue to think.

The men were dirty.

Is it because they're helplessly in love with each other? Or is it because they're both men? Can they help that—the falling in love with someone—even if they just so happen to be of the same gender?

No, it didn't matter. It was settled and set in stone.

It's dirty to love another man no matter if you're helplessly in love with them.

The first time Euijoo realized that Nicholas might be dirty was at the junior campfire.

Every year the juniors would have a party in the forest at the back of the school.

Euijoo had waited so long for it.

Nicholas was smiling so bright with so many people—that Euijoo didn't know.

Since when did the black haired boy have so many friends?

Euijoo was sticking his marshmallow into the unwavering fire when he saw him stumble away with some boy. He didn't think much of it, tried not to, as he forced his eyes back to the fire.

It was red, and burning, and felt much like his chest.

He threw the stick to the ground and softened his steps so the leaves didn't crunch as much. It only took a minute to follow their steps. Didn't take too long—Nicholas couldn't quiet his laugh even if it'd save his life. His giggles bounced off the trees in the clean air of the forest.

He was against the tree, under the taller boy as he stared into his eyes.

Then, they too, kissed.

Nicholas' eyes that sparkled under the moonlight closed and fell into the moment that was his lips connecting with the other boys'.

Euijoo felt his cheeks heat and burn and turn red.

He was hot, flamed.

Nicolas was dirty.

Euijoo couldn't allow himself to be dirty too, even if what he felt for Nicholas wasn't so clean.

Euijoo tried to ignore Nicholas.

The following Saturday he didn't invite the boy over to his home as he usually would. He didn't fight his sister for Nicholas' beanbag as he usually would, he didn't bring his console down from his room, and he didn't cut strawberries and put them into the bowl Nicholas deemed his as he usually would, either.

He spent the whole day in his room, just as he did before Nicholas barged into his life, and cried into his pillow.

That Sunday, even though Euijoo wasn't religious, he walked down to the church that sat at in the middle of their small town.

He placed himself on the curb and as he heard the choir sing their tunes, harmonizing with each other all in the name of worshipping their Lord and savior, he clasped his hands together, squeezed his eyes shut, and prayed.

Not so that he didn't love Nicholas the way that he did, but so that Nicholas wasn't so dirty. Maybe then it wouldn't be so wrong to love him.

He knew it was selfish—to want someone to change for his own benefit—but it was the black haired boys' fault. If he wasn't so perfect; if he didn't make Euijoo feel the butterflies he couldn't seem to muster for a girl, if he didn't fit perfectly with Euijoo like a missing piece that he'd been searching for all his teenage years, if he wasn't so Nicholas, maybe then he wouldn't be so selfish.

On the curb in front of the church, Euijoo cried harder than he ever had in his life.

He was so alone and so full of something he wouldn't dare say out into the open because then it'd be real. Then he'd have to put a name to what he felt. He'd have to say that he loved Nicholas more than a friend should—that he might be dirty too.

Nicholas had finally caught him when he was out shopping with his mom. He was with his as well when they bumped into each other.

Their moms ushered them away to do 'boy stuff.'

They walked in silence to the park—even the air around them scared to make itself known.

Nicholas sat in the squeaky swing he always did and finally spoke, "I know you saw me." He looked down, his shoes were clean they always were. His usual confident tone was now broken. Under the weight of Euijoo's judging gaze, Nicholas was nothing. "In the forest, behind that tree, when he kissed me—"

"You're dirty." Euijoo cut. He didn't mean to sound so final, as if he wouldn't give Nicholas the chance to redeem himself if he'd just asked enough.

The black haired boy's head shot up, his eyes honed into Euijoo's, "I'm dirty, Juju?" He winced at the name, his eyes softening just enough for Nicholas to catch. He still fixed his mouth to same the same hurtful words, even stronger, "You're dirty, Nicholas."

He gave a weak smile. One that wasn't meant to provide comfort, "I don't even deserve to be called Nico?"

"Nico wouldn't have ever done what you did."

It was quiet again, save for the sound of the swing Nicholas swung his feet on, the breeze that swept through them, and the trees that brushed against each other. He spoke again, "I don't wanna be dirty if it'll keep you from talkin' to me. I need you, Euijoo."

His words were true and honest and he couldn't handle them. Euijoo was getting everything he prayed for but at what cost—Nicholas hiding parts of himself to make room for Euijoo's discomfort?

Nicholas didn't mind though, as long as he had Euijoo nothing mattered.

"I need you too, Nico." It wasn't forgiveness nor acknowledgement, but a truth that didn't force Euijoo to say something just as honest.They didn't hug or speak after. Just walked back home together in silence that allowed the air to softly dance around them.

The next day Euijoo knocked on his door as he always did and Nicholas let him in without a second thought. They played in the living room, yelling at each other, hitting each other, and laying against the couch, legs gently knocking against on another's.

It wasn't as it was before but Euijoo had Nicholas, Nico again, and he wouldn't ask for anything more.

They were in Nicholas' room after school. He had a match the next day. He was so nervous—knee bouncing against the bed, shaking Euijoo from his silent contentment, "Nichol' it's gonna be okay. You're the best right?"

He put his head in his hands and forced himself back against the bed, "Yeah, but this is new. I'm not in Taiwan anymore. I don't know how these boys play."

"Is it 'cause you miss home?" Nicholas just nodded, as if if he spoke, all of the feelings he couldn't put into words would force themselves out all at once—in an incoherent jumbled mess. "Do you?"

"Every single day." He started, "I would wanna take you with me though. You're my home now, too."

Euijoo doesn't know why he said it. Why it was so intimate with how low it was spoken and how true his words were.

For the first time ever, they hugged. Nicholas bent down to where he was on the floor, sat back on his knees, and hugged Euijoo with all that he had. He was dirty, and impure, and was sure to taint whatever he touched, but Euijoo leaned in anyway and wrapped his arms tight around the boy.

He fell asleep like that.

Euijoo tucked into Nicholas' arms.

His breathing was so even and calm. Like he hadn't just kissed a boy weeks prior, like Euijoo hadn't left him for dead for simply being himself.

Euijoo cried again. Silent so that Nicholas wouldn't hear. He felt the tears trail down his plump cheeks and to the corner of his mouth.

When the sun was hidden beneath the earth and the moon took its place in the sky, Euijoo found himself staring at Nicholas as he lie limp on his side, cradled into the space he created there. He had a habit of doing that—making space for himself and not caring to clean it up after. Then his lips, and how still they were. How just minutes ago there was a slight tremble to them and now they were calmed and still and pretty.

He wanted to lean his head over and place his lips there. Not so much a kiss, but just the connection of two bodies. He wanted it to be intimate and made just for them.

Euijoo was dirty too.

Nicholas' team won. He and Jo as the black haired boy told the group, "Carried everyone on our backs. Ain't that right Jojo?" Jo just nodded his head, a shy smile pulled his lips from their usual tight line and into something more happy.

Nicholas looked so alive. Euijoo is sure he's the only one that saw the boy for how he truly was in the moment. The sun kissed him as it were in love with him, his gap was proudly shown beneath the wide spread of his lips, and his eyes, how they sparkled even though nothing was shining on them.

Euijoo wanted to kiss him.

He didn't care about being dirty because Nicholas always felt so, so right.

And if Nicholas' love was dirty then Euijoo wanted to be filthy of it.

The phrase goes: Curiosity killed the cat.

Euijoo was never one for sayings like that. He always thought, if you have something to say, why not just say it direct?

But now he understood, curiosity truly does kill the cat.

Euijoo had always wondered what Nicholas' lips would feel like. He didn't just want a kiss—more than a mere touch of lips. No, he wanted to feel the cracked skin the black haired boy couldn't stop from biting, the feverish pink tint Euijoo wanted to inherit himself, and the dip of his cupids bow against his.

Would their lips slot together as perfectly as he'd always imagined?

Before Nicholas, Euijoo never wondered what it felt like to kiss nor did he have the particular urge. But with Nicholas everything was different.

So as they were supposed to be studying for midterms, Nicholas' bedroom window open, allowing the sun to peek in on a moment created just for them, Euijoo asked him: "When you had your first kiss did you just know what to do?"

Nicholas, who was working surprisingly diligently on his assignment, didn't look up as he answered, "Mhm."

"But what if you didn't? What if it was awkward and you would've accidentally bit them?"

"Well, since I actually liked who I was kissin', it wasn't awkward. Plus, it was their first time too so we would've just been awkward together." Then he turned, and his eyebrow rose. "What—you gonna kiss someone soon?"

Euijoo, to this day, doesn't know what got into him. Maybe because he was surrounded by everything Nicholas—his basketball jersey, anime posters, trophies from street dancing, and the intoxicating, inescapable scent of him—or maybe it was because deep down, he wanted to.

"Would you.. let me practice on you?" Euijoo rushed out. Afraid that if he spoke his sentence louder and with coherence it would never be spoken.

Nicholas was quiet. His eyes blown wide, and lip trembling, "What about me bein' dirty, hm?"

Nicholas had a way of doing that to Euijoo—making him want to put all his guards down, lay all of his cards on the table—for what? His love, his patience, his care?

It didn't matter.

Whatever Nicholas wanted to give, Euijoo'd take.

"Then we can be dirty together."

Neither of them spoke as Nicholas rose from his chair and joined Euijoo on the bed. The shorter boy straddled his hips and laid his feet at his sides. "It's more comfortable this way, trust me."

"I've always trusted you."

The blush hit his cheeks in an instant. Usually, Nicholas always looked like he was so cold. His cool skin tone paired with how soft his eyes looked all the time made him look so vulnerable. Euijoo wanted to kiss it better, wanted to kiss him better.

"Now what?" The brunette asked as he looking into Nicholas' eyes.

"You kiss me—whenever you're ready. No rush."

Euijoo preferred to take his time. His touch, light, trailed across the cheeks that always enticed him and then to the side of his face, near his ears, without touching. Euijoo then seemed to find a particular interest in the way the Nicholas' nape felt, and when he inched even a little close to the boys hair, he gasped. "Sorry, I'm sensitive there."

"D'you want me to stop?"

He shook his head aggressively, "No, touch me there more. I trust you too, Juju."

So Euijoo thread his hand into the black stands—massaging with the tips of his fingers and grazing with his palm. He could tell Nicholas was trying to contain the satisfied hum that vibrated his body. "It's okay, Nichol'. I wanna hear you if it makes you feel good."

Then, as quietly as the mosquitos made their way into the night, the black haired boy let out as sound between a sigh and something Euijoo was too afraid to name.

Of course, they kissed.

Euijoo leaned forward so fast and put his lips against Nicholas' and then retreated as he always did, to something safe, to something familiar.

But they also did something else.

Euijoo didn't want to think about how good Nicholas' body felt on his, he didn't want to think about how the drag of Nicholas' hips sent sparks down his spine.

He didn't want to think about the heat that manifested itself in his lower stomach, and he didn't want to think about how good it felt when it was finally unleashed. Because that would mean that Euijoo was officially as dirty, if not dirtier, than Nicholas; that no matter what, there was no coming back from this.

"Nichol', what did we just do?" The brunette asked once Nicholas was off him and by his side.

"We kissed."

After, just like they'd done many nights before, Euijoo held him, but this time with more care; with more gentleness really required and more thought. Euijoo rubbed small circles on his hip as his other hand trailed up and down his cheeks.

Soon Nicholas' breathing evened out and he was asleep.

When Euijoo finally left Nicholas' house he immediately went to shower. He didn't know when the switch happened—how he could go from a heart full of love to a mind of resentment.

He was so dirty that he allowed himself to become nasty and blinded by Nicholas' love and forgot this isn't natural. Kissing another boy isn't natural, using them for pleasure and loving it, enjoying it, isn't natural, so why was it so easy with the black haired boy?

Why did Euijoo purposely avoid his lips as he scrubbed all of Nicholas' other lingering touches from his body?

As he tucked himself into bed that night he found himself clasping his hands together again. This time he didn't wish for Nicholas to change, but himself.

Euijoo's dad was never close with him—not how Mr. Murata was with his son or the Asakura's—no, his father preferred long hours at the office and late nights at the bar.

Anywhere but home, where the brunette needed him most.

So when his father did make a surprising appearance at the dinner table he didn't know how to act—or if he was supposed to. How else was he expected to conduct himself in front of a stranger—a man who walked like his father and talked like his father, but wasn't as present as a father should be.

He cut into his steak hard, rocking the table as he spoke. His voice low and bouncing off the walls and into his ears, "How's school been? Heard there's a new kid right next to us?"

It's been almost a year since Nicholas had been in their neighborhood. "It's the usual."

The table almost shook as hard as Euijoo's heart when his father continued, "Still failin' your classes?"

He didn't miss the way his mother kicked him under the table. Her lips tucked into itself. "What? If my boys' stupid I have a right know!"

His father had always been like that. He didn't care who he hurt with his words as long as they were up and out of his mouth. Euijoo learned to not take him so serious—got tired of hearing how sensitive he was when his doe eyes would swell with tears at his fathers harsh and unsoftened words. This time was no different.

"I've been doing better than I ever have. Nichol' has been helpin' me a lot. I won't be stupid much longer, dad." He didn't even realize the usage of the name only he'd been permitted to use.

Creased eyebrows made his fingers tremble, "Nichol'? I thought his name was Nicholas?"

"Yeah, it is. Nichol' is just a nickname."

"Sure as hell sounds like a girl nickname. You sure that boy ain't no sissy?"

Euijoo never really felt angry. He found it to be a useless emotion. When you're angry, it's like an emotional override. You'd to anything to hurt the other person as much as they hurt you to just to say, You made me feel this way, and now i'll make you feel it too. Doesn't feel nice, does it? It was petty and Euijoo didn't like petty games.

But now, at the dinner table when he was supposed to be eating overcooked steak and salty green beans, he couldn't stop himself from standing up from his chair and slamming his fork on the table. "Don't talk about him like that."

His father only seemed amused by his outburst. Sat back in his chair, crossed his arms over his chest, and fixed his lips into a smirk to prove it. "Oh, so what are you—his protector? Are you a sissy too? Have I raised a sissy boy?"

Euijoo knew that if he spoke tears would run down his cheeks and erase his mind of anything logical to say, instead he pushed his plate away and rushed up the stairs. He heard his moms hushed whispers and his sister following behind him. Didn't care though, slammed his door all the same and immediately grabbed his phone.

He was on autopilot at this point—opening his photos app and clicking on the folder Nicholas had created after a particularly late night titled, "Whenever you're sad :)"

It was filled with tons of pictures of them two of them. In one Nicholas held Euijoo tight as he drug him under the water, the only thing visible in the candid is Nicholas' bright smile and the brunette struggling to breathe.

He scrolled.

The next was them at a restaurant, it was a group photo, but between the barely eaten pasta and the empty basket of garlic bread, Euijoo's only focus was Nicholas just as it'd been in the photo. While everyone else threw peace signs to the camera and made bunny ears behind others heads Euijoo eyes were instead on the black haired boy as he gave the camera a polite smile.

Euijoo would do anything to see it in person.

He didn't really register it as he slowly got under the covers, his phone with pictures of Nicholas held close, and drifted off to sleep.

That night Euijoo dreamed of what life would be like had Nicholas been a girl. Would his father have approved then? Would his father finally join them for dinner had he known his son wasn't a dirty failure?

The school year came to a close and it was summer again. Only this time Euijoo was being forced to get a job, something about learning responsibility before his big last year. After talking with some of the elders, they were able to provide him a simple job at the library. Reorganizing books, dusting shelves, and telling particularly loud teens with nothing else to do with their time to, sshhh!

Nicholas made the space his own personal hangout spot. Whever Euijoo happened to be, Nicholas was never too far behind. Today, Nicholas found an interest in talking about life after highschool.

"—and what's cool is if I ever get enough recognition I could model too. But first i'd want to be a fashion designer. I have so many cool pieces lined up, if only someone would give me a shot." He then looked to the sky, hopeful, as if the dusty ceiling of the library held all of the answers to his future.

Euijoo found him cute as he always did.

"You can do anything you put your mind to, Nico."

He could see the slight frown in his eyebrows at the lack of use of his nickname.

He liked the way Nicholas said Ju-chan but couldn't hear it and not think of Nicholas' hips on his or how soft his hair felt.

So, in a way, both of them lost a part of each other they held near to themselves.

"What about you, Juju? Any big plans after we leave here?"

Euijoo wanted to say, wherever you are is where i'll feel most complete. Not at college, not chasing a dream, but following you. But he couldn't do that so instead he said something more digestible like, "I dunno. Probably end up working some boring office job with a family I hate."

Nicholas threw his head back against the undusted shelves, "Ugh, y'know I hate it when you talk like that. You can be anything you want and instead you chose to hate a future that hasn't even come yet."

Because I know my future won't have you in it. How can I possibly look forward to the very thing that'll tear the love of my life away from me?

"I guess I just like hearing you talk about yours instead. Go ahead—what's that new piece you've been working on?" So, without much resistance, Nicholas fell back into the talk of fabrics and sewing machines.

Euijoo liked this. How predictable their days were and how constant Nicholas became.

He knew it was fleeting, he knew he was taking much more of the black haired boy than he deserved, but he did so anyway. Because Nicholas was like a drug he doesn't think he'll ever be able to recover from.

"They're always around each other! It's kinda freaky!" Yuma lolled as he lay upside down on the beanbag.

They were in the basement of Fuma's house. The burning sun outside made it unbearable to even attempt to endure. So they huddled in the older's home and waited until the sun got tired and set.

They were mindlessly talking when Euijoo and Nicholas suddenly became the topic.

Nicholas simply shrugged and downed the rest of his soda. "So what? He's my best friend. Do I ever comment about how much time you spend with Jo and Taki?"

"Yeah but, that's, like, different. I don't act around Jo and Taki the way Euijoo acts around you."

Nicholas tilted his head to the side and stuck his tongue in his cheek. He was curious, too curious. "And how does he act?"

"Like he's your boyfrien'."

Euijoo turned his head so fast he's sure he'd seen the stars. "Boyfriend? That's gay and I'm not like that. Don't say things like that, Yuma, ever." He didn't mean to yell or for his words to sound so harsh.

Nicholas' teasing gaze turned into something unrecognizable. Suddenly, all the small chatter—sounds of Kei and Fuma talking, Taki and Maki taking turns on the console, and Harua and Jo coloring in the corner—came to a halt.

"Woah, Ej calm down. I'm sure he was just kiddin'—"

"No," Euijoo interrupted. His voice was way louder than it needed to be. "You don't say things like that. It's weird and i'm not," He huffed a breath before squeezing his eyes shut. His heart thumping in his chest as he continued, "I'm not gay."

The room was quiet save for the sound of the a/c pushing out fresh air, filtering out the odd and uncomfortable. Kei gave one look to everyone and they were out of the basement. Fuma stayed—he could always get to Euijoo when no one else could.

"Wanna tell me what that was about—"

"I think me and Nichol' had sex."

Euijoo could never keep secrets. It also didn't help that since that night they didn't talk about it. Didn't talk about how Nicholas moaned at the feeling of Euijoo threading his fingers through his otherwise untouchable hair, how he drug his hips nice and slow with no motive other than to get Euijoo off, and just how close they became that night. Falling asleep in each others arms like that was their forever—they were their forever.

"You and Nico—you think you had what?"

"Well i'm not sure. We didn't take our clothes off but I searched it up and I think we just had it without it but I don't know if it counts as sex but he moaned when I touched him and then I came in my shorts—" His breathing was uneven and staggered when he stopped to catch his breath.

He was tired.

Loving Nicholas was so hard. How it took everything out of him to shove down the very feelings that were so hellbent on ripping through him and making itself known.

Euijoo was never meant for quiet love—that much was evident. He liked to love out loud. Touches under the table, kisses while they loaded a new game, cuddling in each others arms like they were their home.

Nicholas was his home, just one he couldn't freely come back to.

Fuma reached over and put a hand on Euijoo's thigh, anchoring him when he was so close to slipping away. "It's okay Euijoo, just breathe and talk to me when you're ready."

"I love Nicholas—in a way that friends don't. He means so much to me Fuma, and that night.. It means just as much to me and we haven't even talked about it. But even if we did then what? I admit I love him, get kicked out, and then we run off into the sunset together?" He played with his fingers like Nicholas would. Taking his fingernail and flicking under it, around it, and then massaging the flat of it. If he rubbed hard enough maybe he'd be able to feel his touch, barely there, but still present. "Do you hate me, Fuma? Does me being dirty disgust you?"

"How could I when me and Kei ain't so clean either?" He laughed into it, devoid of any actual humor, but truthful all the same.

"You and Kei..?"

"How has everyone, including Nico, figured it out but you?"

Now, come to think of it, they do spend a lot of time together and Kei's never had a girlfriend and neither has Fuma.. Euijoo really is oblivious.

Fuma spoke again, his tone gentle and filled with a comfort Euijoo wished he could receive all the time. Not just when he'd reached his breaking point and was silently begging for help. "Love is never easy, Euijoo. But that's what's so beautiful about it. Choosing to love someone everyday even when you know that somewhere someone deems it as wrong or may hate you for it because loving someone, truly loving and giving your all to someone, will always be worth it."

"Now it's just up to you to be honest not only with Nico, but yourself, and ask: Is he worth it?"

When Euijoo finally left Fuma's basement his chest was ten times lighter and mind half clearer.

Was Nicholas worth it?

Did his soft giggles, blushed cheeks, and the useless information of knowing which fabric clashes with which just because that's all the black haired boy talked about, outweigh the hate he'd receive from his family, his father disowning him, and his mother staring as if being gay immediately meant he was another species below being human?

He thought about it as he sat down for dinner, washed off, and tucked himself into bed, and as the picture of Nicholas being the last thing he'd seen.

Euijoo didn't talk to Nicholas following his confession to Fuma, even when the older would look at him with a knowing look whenever he'd get a little too close with the boy, and definitely not when Nicholas was laid so perfectly in his arms—his head resting just below Euijoo's chin and fingers playing with his own—staring at the sunset in front of them.

Euijoo had apologized to Yuma in private and chalked it up to having a bad day; which the younger boy knew was a lie but accepted all the same, saying, "Don't sweat it. Who hasn' had one of those days?"

Euijoo doesn't know what he wants to do. Nicholas feels so right in his arms but so wrong in his mind—the feeling overwhelmed him so much to the point where he shoved Nicholas off with more power than necessary and stormed off.

"Juju?"

He turned, eyes filled with tears and heart filled with something so much more than love, how he felt for Nicholas could never be summed up to a single word.

"I know this probably isn't the right time to say this but I love you and I don't think I can keep pretending that whatever this is isn't affecting me. You won't even talk to me about that night when you were.. and I was.." Euijoo fidgeted with his fingers, running the pad over the flat of his fingernail, "I love you and that's scary and I love my mom and that's also scary." His breathing was uneven and didn't connect from one breath to another. "I don't want to be scared to love you; loving you shouldn't be scary, Nichol'."

"So let's not be friends anymore. Let's not go to one another's house in the morning and stay until the sun sets. Let's not hold hands like the connection—the mere touch of one another—means nothing, and go on to stare at each other like we're so far away even when we're the closest. My heart can't handle it, Nicholas. I can't keep putting myself or you through this."

Euijoo didn't give the Nicholas the privilege of time to fight for them as Euijoo should've done himself. Instead he walked off and tried his hardest to ignore the broken sobs of the boy he loved the most.

In the end, even though Nicholas was his whole world—his reason for breathing and truly living—he was not worth it.

Euijoo at the end, though he was more than ready to accept whatever Nicholas would give him, was not worth it.