Work Text:
Nicholas had always been called “difficult.”
He was seen as a kid who was too loud, too sensitive, too quick to cry, too quick to shove other kids away whenever they got too close. The daycare teachers whispered about him when they thought he was distracted by his toy blocks. They didn’t know what to do whenever his emotions exploded all at once.
His parents loved him dearly. He knew that much even as a child. But love and time were cruelly different things. So Nicholas grew up angry at feelings he couldn’t name.
He hated when people touched him. Hated when they moved his things. Hated nap time the most because the teachers would try to pat his head to calm him down and he would only end up crying harder.
Then Euijoo arrived. A tiny boy from Korea with soft cheeks and careful eyes.
The daycare teachers expected another disaster. Nicholas was already glaring from the reading corner, arms crossed tightly against his chest.
But Euijoo simply walked up to him anyway.
“Hi new friend.”
The small hands waved before holding out for a handshake. There was no fear nor hesitation. Nicholas frowned.
Euijoo then pointed at the dinosaur plush beside him. “Can I sit?”
Nicholas should’ve yelled at him. Instead, after a long silence, he scooted slightly to the side. That was the beginning.
Euijoo became the first person Nicholas willingly let close. The first person allowed to touch his curls without getting bitten or shoved away. Euijoo would gently smooth Nicholas’ messy hair down while listening to his endless rambling about cartoons and bugs and football and colors.
Somehow, Nicholas calmed down. And he socially improved! Suddenly he was eating lunch beside other kids instead of alone. Suddenly he was playing tag without bursting into tears after losing. Suddenly daycare became bearable because Euijoo was there.
During nap time, Euijoo would already lift his blanket before Nicholas even sat down. He rubbed his eyes because he was sleepy but a smile still present and it was for Nicholas.
“Come here,” Euijoo would mumble sleepily.
And Nicholas always approached him.
Soft giggles escaped when Nicholas' hairs tickled Euijoo's cheek after they laid next to each other. It was usually like this, they slept curled beside each other every afternoon like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Years passed that way.
Elementary school became shared lunches, matching keychains, and Euijoo patiently letting Nicholas dress him up in ridiculous combinations because Nicholas had discovered he loved fashion design.
“You look pretty,” Nicholas would declare proudly after wrapping scarves around Euijoo’s shoulders.
Euijoo would just smile. “Because you made it.”
Nicholas never realized how deeply those words rooted themselves inside him.
By middle school, people already knew them as a pair. Where one went, the other followed. They were always together, hand-in-hand.
Then one rainy afternoon, Euijoo quietly told him:
“I’m going back to Korea.”
They were in Euijoo's bedroom on another a random Tuesday. But neither expected the information to drop that casually. Nicholas remembered staring at Euijoo without breathing.
“What?” He was taken back.
“My dad’s work ended here.” Euijoo explained.
Nicholas tried not to notice Euijoo's curled up hands on top his pants. He wanted to believe that the other didn't want this either. But who was he to think like that?
The world became distant after that. Nicholas didn’t cry in front of him. Didn’t scream. Didn’t beg him to stay.
He simply shut down.
The last day came too quickly. Euijoo stood at the school gate clutching his backpack while looking at Nicholas with glassy eyes. They hadn't talked well after that day.
“Will you text me?” Euijoo's words were simple however his voice screamed "Please."
Nicholas nodded weakly. His eyes still glued to the floor beneathe them. It seemed more interesting than seeing Euijoo despite how badly he wanted to memorise each inch of the other's face.
When Euijoo stepped closer for a goodbye hug, Nicholas stepped back instead. Because if he touched him, he would break apart completely.
So Euijoo left.
And Nicholas became a ghost.
Life went on after that. It felt unfair how everyone continued on their days instead of glooming a resonate with Nicholas' loss.
He had no choice but went with the flow. Nicholas still got excellent grades. Even enrolled in a football club, he played well enough for people to admire him from afar and teachers to praise him constantly.
But he drifted through life hollowed out. None of those blings in his life mattered. Because at night he wondered what Euijoo was doing. It would always be about Euijoo.
Nicholas kept thinking whether Euijoo still tucked his blanket around himself the same way during sleep. Whether he still laughed with his eyes nearly closed. Whether he missed him too. Everything.
See, the thing is, Euijoo texted often at first.
But seeing the lack of response from Nicholas, it started to become less frequent. Then it developed into long emails instead. Yet, Nicholas read none of them.Because every notification made his chest hurt too badly. So he ignored them all and pretended moving on was the same thing as surviving.
A couple of years later, highschool ended and college arrived. Nicholas got into a good university. True to his passion, he chose design.
Because somewhere deep inside him, there still lived a little boy wrapping scarves around Euijoo’s shoulders while being told, "Because you made it."
Lecturers dragged with boredom. He talked only when spoken to and did his projects silently. Until a pamflet from the library board caught his attention. It reads: A scholarship opportunity to Korea.
Nicholas signed up almost immediately. He wasn't sure what he would do there, yet he still moved around completing the requirements like he was on due despite being registered early. Maybe because part of him had never truly stopped searching. Searching for a particular someone.
He was beyond shocked when he saw his name in the announcement website. He victory punched his pillow, rolling around to express his happiness. Then it all came down to him. He might be able to cross paths with Euijoo again. The thought both riled him up and scared him.
After another week of administration business, he finally fled to Korea. The first few weeks there were lonely once he was done surveying his university. Seoul felt too large, too unfamiliar. Yet every corner somehow reminded him of Euijoo anyway.
One sleepless night, out of curiosity and boredom of reorganizing his closet for the tenth time, Nicholas finally opened his unread messages. And he regret not opening it sooner. There were hundreds of neglected pieces were waiting for him. There were countless photos, voice notes, even random updates.
"Today I saw a cat that looked like you."
"Are you eating properly?"
"Did you know that I got taller?"
"Nichol, please answer me at least once."
"I miss you."
Nicholas' hands shook scrolling through years of affection he never returned. Then he reached the final message. A letter. It was long. Also honest. And painfully gentle.
Euijoo wrote about waiting. About understanding Nicholas was hurting. About loving him anyway. And at the end:
“I think I’ve loved you since we were children sharing blankets during nap time.”
Nicholas reread that line until his vision blurred. Every past memories flood his body like a tornado. Then amidst them all, he noticed the address attached underneath.
Without thinking, he grabbed his jacket and important belongings before left. It was stupid. Impulsive. Irrational. He barely knew the city properly.
His Korean stumbled awkwardly whenever he asked strangers for directions. But he kept going anyway because every step felt like running toward home after years of being lost.
Finally, his search got to an elderly woman who pointed toward a quiet cottage tucked near the outskirts. Nicholas stopped in front of it breathlessly.
He observed the carved family name beside the door which was unmistakable that it belonged to Euijoo's.
Nicholas' heart pounded so violently he thought he might faint. His walk slowed down the moment he approached closer to the wooden door. Then after minutes of hesitation, he knocked.
From the other side, faint footsteps was heard. Soon, the door opened. And there stood Euijoo.
He looked mature and somehow softer. Taller than Nicholas remembered. His hair slightly messy from sleep. But still Euijoo. And Still home.
For a moment neither spoke. Then Euijoo smiled. Small and trembling.
Nicholas broke instantly.
He stepped forward and pulled Euijoo into him so tightly it almost hurt. His knees weakened with the sheer overwhelming relief of finally touching him again after all these years.
Euijoo let out a tiny sound before burying his face into Nicholas’ shoulder. They stayed there breathing each other in. Nicholas smelled soap and fabric softener and something achingly familiar underneath it all.
Euijoo cried silently against him. Nicholas did too.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered shakily. “I’m so sorry I answered too late.”
Euijoo only held him tighter.
Then softly said:
“It's okay, you still came.”
And somehow that forgiveness hurt even more.
Euijoo guided him inside afterward without letting go of his hand once. Neither of them spoke much. They didn’t need to.
Nicholas removed his jacket and followed Euijoo to the couch, exhaustion finally settling into his bones now that he no longer had to keep searching.
Euijoo pulled a blanket over them instinctively. Just like before. Just like daycare naps. Nicholas stared at him quietly in the dim light. Euijoo looked back with sleepy tear-stained eyes.
Then Nicholas moved closer. And Euijoo opened the blanket for him without hesitation. Like he always had.
So Nicholas curled beside him, forehead pressed against Euijoo’s shoulder while Euijoo wrapped an arm around him carefully.
The silence felt warm.
It felt safe.
It felt like home.
And for the first time in years, Nicholas finally slept peacefully again.