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If there was one thing in the world that Fuma wasn't sure of, it would be Nicholas. It wasn't often that Fuma wasn't sure about things, especially when it came to people. But Nicholas remained somewhat of an enigma throughout the three-almost-four years they had been in this group for.
It wasn't like Nicholas was particularly difficult to read. Nicholas was, in fact, very transparent. His mood showed on his face clearly. He always so expressive and unafraid to show it. It was one of his best qualities, along with his ability to read both the room and people around like there was a manual written on the back of his hand.
But there was something about the way he treated Fuma in specific that always left him with more questions than anything else. The way Nicholas' gaze lingered, the way he was always so tactile with whatever Fuma gave him, and worst of all, the way he smiled.
Like there was a secret he wanted Fuma to figure out.
And Fuma did want to know. There was something about Nicholas that made him a bit insatiable, especially when it came to his reactions. Maybe because of how often Nicholas pushed his buttons, it made Fuma want to retaliate in smaller ways. Calling him cute was one of Fuma's favorites. It was fun to do, just to see the playful frown on play out on the younger's face. Somehow it made him look even more adorable in Fuma's eyes. If Fuma dared to repeat the words again then Nicholas would glare at him a little.
It was especially fun to see Nicholas off-kilter in some way. Whenever he grew shy or nervous, Fuma felt like he was watching the most fascinating thing in the world. Nicholas got all jittery when nervous and he would pace away his worries while muttering under his breath. Or he'd start singing a little. Just small parts of one of their songs in that loud, beautiful voice of his. Nicholas didn't really sing often if music wasn't playing, so Fuma took the opportunity to listen sometimes.
Recently he got into shadow boxing, so he'd come up to one of the members and shadow box into their arm. The members usually played along, as tired as they sometimes were. His most common victims were Jo, Maki, and Euijoo.
He never did it to Fuma in the waiting rooms. He must know that Fuma didn't usually like to be disturbed when he was playing games, but sometimes Nicholas would sit next to him.
At times like that Nicholas was quiet. He'd sit and watch whatever it was that Fuma played. The silence felt a bit loud at times, so sometimes Fuma would narrate or explain what was happening. Sometimes Nicholas talked back. Sometimes he just listened.
One time, Fuma had been in the middle of explaining the boss battle he was in when he felt something drop on his shoulder. It was Nicholas, breathing soft and most definitely asleep. Fuma had looked at him in disbelief for a moment before he heard someone laugh.
"Wow, your game talk bored him that much, huh?" Yuma said with a playful smile.
"Or maybe Fuma-kun's voice was nice enough to lull Nico to sleep," Taki chimed in, ever the positive one. Fuma didn't know which one it was. All he knew was that he adjusted his shoulder so Nicholas was sleeping a bit more comfortably. Nicholas' breaths tickled a little against his neck but the weight of him was almost comforting.
When he woke up later, he apologized profusely to Fuma and to the make up noonas for messing up the make up on his cheek. If they weren't wearing make up then Fuma was sure that Nicholas' face would've been bright red.
Back to the problem, because contrary to Fuma's rambling, there was a problem. The problem lied in the way Nicholas would act around him sometimes.
Nicholas liked to lean into him, especially if they were in a waiting room or couch somewhere. Fuma allowed the intrusion, mostly because he liked indulging Nicholas and partly because he could still play his games even if Nicholas was leaning on him.
And then started Nicholas' fiddling.
Sometimes it was on his knee, sometimes it was his sleeve, and often it was his hands. It was Nicholas behavior, something Fuma had long catalogued as normal. Part of the reason why he so strongly resembled a cat.
And yet. Sometimes Nicholas would deliberately act out.
Like today. Fuma relinquished one of his hands, his other hand scrolling on his phone. Nicholas prodded at his fingers, bending them a little as he continued. And then there was a light scratch over his palm. Fuma's hand instantly closed around Nicholas' own. When he looked up, Nicholas was looking at him with this pleased expression on his face.
"That tickles," Fuma said, releasing his fingers.
Nicholas would double down and hold his hand, "I know. I just wanted to see what would happen." And then there was that look and smile again. He was looking at Fuma through his eyelashes, his eyes twinkling like he knew something Fuma didn't.
And then the cycle reset. He would try something new. Fuma would react. Or he wouldn't. Fuma found it fun not to let Nicholas have his way too.
If there was something Fuma was good at, it was endurance and patience. They sound like the same thing. But the difference lied in this: his endurance allowed him to withstand whatever Nicholas threw at him and his patience was always able to outlast the younger's persistence.
Nicholas would frown sometimes whenever he'd get no reaction. He always had this mischievous look in his eyes when he was looking for one and it was a coin toss whether to give in or hold out just to see his frustration.
Sometimes Fuma would do it back, just to see how Nicholas would react. If Nicholas fiddled with his shirt, he'd do the same in a more subtle way. He relished in the slight flinch before Nicholas realized it was him, and the way he would sometimes lean into the touch.
If Nicholas leaned onto him, Fuma would too. To his surprise, Nicholas seemed almost delighted to welcome him. He had this big smile on his face like he'd won the lottery as Fuma leaned a little of his weight onto the younger. He didn't understand what he was so smug about, really. But whatever made him happy.
Sometimes Nicholas would fluster. It happened more often when they were alone. Well, as alone as they could be when they lived in a dorm with seven other men. Like the time Fuma had decided to take Nicholas' hand in his when they sat on the couch. Nicholas had stiffened, full-bodied and instinctive and Fuma could practically feel his gaze on the side of his face.
Fuma slowly slid his gaze over, raising his brow in question. Nicholas had immediately looked away, suddenly finding the anime episode playing on the screen the most interesting thing in the world. Fuma noted that his flush continued all the way down to his shirt collar.
He continued holding Nicholas' hand for the rest of the episode. He had to let go when Maki started complaining that his butt hurt from sitting on the floor before worming in between them.
And then of course, there was this pull whenever they danced together. Maybe it was a synergy that all nine of them had, but Fuma felt it especially with Kei and Nicholas. Maybe because they danced together often, silly freestyles that had nothing to do with choreography. But whenever Fuma had to interact with Nicholas in their choreography, it felt like electricity.
Fuma felt it especially when they performed Big Suki. Nicholas started the line in the verse and Fuma completed it. The choreographer aka Kei, had suggested a pair move. Something they could easily change up every time. A moment for fan service for everyone to see.
Which would've been fine if Nicholas wasn't absolutely insane.
"You should grab me by the collar," Nicholas had suggested during one of their first performances of Big Suki. Fuma frowned and Nicholas immediately started his bullshit engine, "I swear it'll look cool! Plus it matches with the lyrics, y'know. 'Unknowingly, I approach you'?"
Fuma didn't know what him grabbing Nicholas' collar had to do with 'unknowingly, I approach you'. But he decided to try it. There was this instinct to indulge whenever it came to Nicholas that Fuma couldn't quite shake.
When the moment dawned on them in the performance, Fuma didn't hesitate. He grabbed Nicholas' lapels firmly, using some of his strength to pull him closer. Nicholas almost went limp, a satisfied smirk on his face. More than that Fuma could see the way his eyes turned a bit lidded, staring right at Fuma. When he let go, Nicholas smiled at him a little before walking off.
The next day Fuma was a bit late to getting there. He improvised, pulling Nico against his body. He thought he would face a little more resistance, but Nicholas seemed to melt against his embrace. His back pressed against Fuma's chest and there was the electricity, zapping between every point they touched as he sang.
Fuma hardly remembered patting him on the chest for good measure. He only saw himself do the action when they got the monitoring fancams after the performance was over. He also didn't remember letting Nicholas go. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the dazed look on Nicholas' face fading into something satisfied as he was pulled in, biting at his lip. And it was worse when he watched Nicholas all but stumble away from him after their two seconds was over, like his legs had grown weak from the little force Fuma put into holding him.
Big Suki became another extension to Fuma's fascination. He wanted to know how much Nicholas would allow. What he would suggest. What would happen between them on stage. He hoarded the fancams like they were something precious.
Fuma couldn't help but chase the static electricity that only struck when they got close enough. Chest to chest on stage with the crowds screaming their name, Nicholas' face mere centimeters away as they stared each other down.
So there was definitely something with this weird push-and-pull game they liked to play. Especially when Nicholas would give him that look that Fuma still couldn't decipher. And there was the whole game of chicken with Big Suki. So maybe Fuma shouldn't be surprised that the members would notice too. It had been going on long enough.
Unsurprisingly enough, the first person to talk to him about it was Yuma. The younger flopped onto Fuma's bed one night, looking up at him for a moment before going, "So…what's with you and Nico?"
"We're getting along well," Fuma said, eyes still glued on his console.
Yuma groaned, rolling over so that his face was next to the screen, "No, you have to tell me. You guys have been doing this weird mating dance around each other for so long."
"What mating dance?" Fuma spared Yuma's upside down face a glance.
"The whole teasing each other, the…" Yuma waved his hand around. "Touchiness."
"It's just skinship, Yuma."
"Oh my god, if you were Nicholas, I'd take the excuse. But you're Murata Fuma," Yuma rolled his eyes. "Since when have you cared about skinship of all things?"
"Is that anyway to talk to your elders?" Fuma said, being intentionally obtuse.
Yuma sat up, "Fine! Don't tell me, I'll ask Nico instead." Fuma's eyes looked up and Yuma really was leaving. Knowing Yuma, he really was going to go ask Nicholas. He wondered what Nicholas would say.
The next person was Kei. It happened on one of the rare days they had the living room to themselves. They were between finishing their schedules and starting their next tour so there was this nervous energy around everyone. All the others were asleep or in their separate rooms monitoring or relaxing. Kei tossed Fuma a beer before sinking into the couch beside him.
"So," Kei started, and Fuma felt like he was getting deja vu from Yuma. "Should I ask you, or do you know what I'm going to ask?" Fuma shrugged and Kei sighed. "Don't play dumb, Fuma. You and Nicholas. Is there something going on there?"
"There isn't," Fuma said as he sipped at his beer. The taste was smooth but bitter as ever as he tried to take in Kei's expression.
Kei frowned a little bit, "But you are…how do you say, interested in him?"
Interested. Kei chose a good word to describe it. But does interested cover the extent to which Fuma felt about Nicholas? He didn't know. It always felt…more.
Fuma exhaled a little, "Is there something wrong with being interested?"
Kei's eyes widened immediately, "Oh, god no. There's nothing wrong with…with that. You know we could all care less, we accept each other as we are. I just…I was curious about how you felt."
Fuma gave Kei a smile, "Doesn't Nicholas play the same game with everyone else?"
Because at the core of it, that was the second half of the problem. Not only was Nicholas playing this game with him, but Fuma wasn't the only recipient. Nicholas was always clingy with anyone he could get ahold of. He vied for everyone's attention, the same shit-eating grin on his face as he poked at Euijoo, or Harua, or whoever he deemed the next acceptable victim.It wasn't a unilateral experience in the slightest.
"Fuma, you can't be serious," Kei sounded a little bit pained. "Whatever he's doing with the others, it's not the same game he plays with you. I mean, he's always looking at you and your reactions. Maybe you just don't see it."
It was astounding how Kei managed to turn the whole world on its head in three sentences. Kei wasn't a liar, and when Fuma looked there was something startlingly sincere in his gaze. Fuma's head spun even as he took another swig of his beer.
"I'm not really…good at two player games," Fuma said instead, because he hated to be candid and honest when it came to matters like this.
Kei laughed a little at that, "You don't have to be good at everything. You can learn as you go. That's how games work, right? You level up." The words settled over him like a warm blanket, more comforting than anything else Kei could've said.
And then Kei added, "Plus, Nico looks at you like you've found out all the mysteries of the universe. You really don't need to stress."
But it was impossible not to stress. That was like telling a kid not to do something and expecting them to listen at the first instance. Fuma couldn't do anything but stress and overthink about it.
Now that he noticed, every time Nicholas sat down next to him, Fuma would grow hyper aware. Every brush of his hand against Fuma's knee or shoulder sent endorphins straight to his brain. And every glance that Nicholas sent— sometimes tired, playful, or just curious— made Fuma's chest squeeze.
After thoroughly cataloguing his own symptoms— which mostly consisted of him obsessively searching for some kind of rare disease that this could be and failing to find something conclusive— he landed on an obvious answer:
That he liked Nicholas. Liked him in a way that was past the realm of normal friendships. As if Fuma didn't already have enough on his plate, he had to add 'crisis about his group member' on top of everything.
Fuma could…accept it to a certain extent. But it covered all their interactions in a layer of guilt. Guilt because while Nicholas was interacting with him normally, Fuma couldn't get the thought of kissing him out of his mind.
Well, it wasn't always kissing. That had been a recent and annoying development to think about. But Fuma thought about it. Dating Nicholas. He'd been asked similar questions before by their fans and back then he remembered answering them with the first thought that popped into his head.
"Nicholas would take me out on fun dates, I think."
It wasn't like Fuma knew for sure. But from what he knew about Nicholas, he was flexible to whoever he was hanging out with. He could be high octane with Taki and Maki, he could take it slow when he was hanging out with Euijoo. He often invited Kei out to meals when things were busy because he knew it would cheer him up.
Would Nicholas adjust to him too? Would he know Fuma's likes and dislikes as effortlessly as he knew the others? Would he take Fuma somewhere they could both enjoy, and hold his hand while he did it? (And also maybe kiss him sometimes, something in the darkest part of Fuma's mind whispered. Fuma tried his best to ignore it.)
In the end of the day, maybe that was what it boiled down to. Having Nicholas' gaze on him in a way that Fuma knew mattered. In a way that was the same to how Fuma looked at him.
So yes, guilt. A feeling Fuma wasn't immune to because it felt like he was taking advantage of Nicholas' willingness to be next to him.
So Fuma tried to do less. Less skinship, less contact, and less indulging. Whenever Nicholas would start his fiddling, Fuma would stop his hand with a "sorry, Nico, not today." Whenever Fuma found himself sitting next to Nicholas he would try to find away to be distracted, talking to someone else or getting unnecessarily absorbed into his phone or game.
Honestly, he felt bad trying to even ignore Nicholas a little. But Nicholas didn't get offended when Fuma wouldn't play along. He would just pat his knee before moving to sit next to someone else like it was natural.
The vacancy next to him felt like a hollow he could never fill but Fuma convinced himself that maybe this was for the better. He had only started doing this for a week and he was wavering. He needed to be stronger than this to be okay with the way things were.
There were so many things that were uncertain. Not only had he barely figured out his own feelings, but he didn't know where Nicholas' own feelings lied. It was no use trying to do anything if he didn't at least have an inkling of that.
Honestly, the least the universe could do was give Fuma some sort of sign. A hint to tell him what Nicholas felt toward him.
What he wasn't expecting was for Nicholas to walk into the practice room wearing that.
It was by no means a scandalous outfit. Fuma was sure that Nicholas had worn stage oufits more risque than this. Yet the sight still stole the breath right out of Fuma's lungs.
Nicholas was wearing Fuma's flannel.
What the fuck.
Fuma's own clothes stared back at him like the world's most obviously affirmative neon sign. The material was familiar, falling over Nicholas' figure more oversized than Fuma's own. Nicholas had always been leaner than him, but that was besides the point.
Nicholas was wearing his clothes. And nothing else underneath it if Fuma's eyesight was to be trusted. Unfortunately he had his contacts in, so that meant he probably was seeing right.
"Fuma-kun?" Euijoo's voice, threaded with concern. "Are you okay? You haven't blinked for a while." Euijoo probably meant part of it as a joke, but Fuma swallowed with difficulty, tearing his eyes away from Nicholas. Nicholas who was poking at Harua's beanie and teasing him like he wasn't causing a real-life crisis in Fuma's mind.
"I'm fine," Fuma said, ignoring the way his lungs constrict. "Should we start practice now that everyone's here?"
Practice was difficult. Not only because of the new choreography for their tour. But even more so because his eyes would drift from his own reflection all the way over to Nicholas. Nicholas who was laser focused on practicing. Nicholas whose every move shifted Fuma's shirt across his skin.
He had the bottom half of the flannel unbuttoned. Of course he did. Nicholas wasn't himself if he didn't enjoy showing a little skin. Fuma felt his brain overheat whenever the shirt parted and he would get a flash of Nicholas' boxers above his sweatpants.
At least Fuma got through the first half of practice without too many fumbles. He stumbled into a corner with a towel around his neck, holding his phone to monitor like it was a lifeline. He tried not to let his eyes follow Nicholas.
Get it together, Fuma wanted to tell himself. But there was some part of his brain that was going haywire and screaming, How could he look so perfect in your clothes?
"Fuma-kun," Fuma's eyes snapped up to see the object of his tortured thoughts right there. Nicholas' hair was sweat damp, matted to his forehead slightly as he held out water bottle for Fuma. Fuma's eyes traitorously dropped to his exposed collarbones, the skin flushed red with hea—
"Thank you," Fuma took the water bottle, immediately chugging half of it. The water was ice cold. Nicholas must've gone digging in the mini fridge.
Nicholas nodded before lifting a corner of the flannel to wipe at the sweat on his chin. The action gave Fuma a direct view of his toned stomach, unfairly lean waist, and his damn branded boxers.
Fuma almost choked. Keyword here was almost.
He managed to swallow the water with a slight cough as he cursed out whoever decided to make wearing boxers like that a trend because it seriously almost killed him. Nicholas didn't seem to notice anything amiss, instead crouching to swipe the bottle from Fuma's hands. He brought it to his own lips with a smile before walking off.
"Does that count as an indirect kiss?" Fuma almost jumped out of his skin at the words. He turned to see Yuma sitting not too far away. From this close the younger had probably seen absolutely everything.
"That's not…"
"Uhuh," Yuma said, gleefully. "So you're telling me you didn't just ogle Nico's bare waist like a starved man? You're no better than Lunés." Fuma felt the flush hit him full force, and he threw his towel at Yuma. Yuma dodged with a laugh before Kei was clapping again for their break to end.
Somehow Fuma managed to make it to the end of practice almost unscathed. He did mess up the footwork more than he usually would have and even Kei had sent him a questioning glance when that happened. But at least Nicholas hadn't noticed anything amiss.
On the way home, he was blessedly sat next to Harua, who was engaged in conversation with Taki. Nicholas sat in the middle seat with Euijoo. From Fuma's vantage point he couldn't see much other than Nicholas' nape and a flash of side profile when he turned to talk to Euijoo.
And of course, the offending flannel. Fuma stared at it long and hard. When did Nicholas even get that? Fuma swore that he had just washed the flannel a week ago and that it should've been folded neatly in his closet.
And even more than that: why?
The question plagued Fuma more than anything else. If Nicholas was doing it to get some sort of reaction, then Fuma would understand. But there had been nothing. None of the glances he would throw, none of the checking Fuma's expression, and especially none of the flaunting.
Maybe it had been a genuine honest mistake, and their laundry had gotten mixed up by some divine mistake. But there was a feeling in Fuma's stomach that told him this was more than a simple mistake.
That gut feeling wouldn't leave him alone even in the dorms, which must've been why he found himself standing outside of Nicholas' room. The door was slightly ajar and he could hear shuffling beyond it like Nicholas was cleaning up. Or changing. Or something.
Fuma pushed the door open quietly and Nicholas' figure came into view. The goddamn flannel was still on him. Fuma didn't know whether to be relieved or upset about it. He let himself look, for a moment. At Nicholas rearranging whatever it was on his dresser, humming softly. The gentle lamplight illuminated the way Fuma's clothes dwarfed his figure despite the younger's muscular build.
Before Fuma could lose his nerve, he closed the door behind him. The soft click made Nicholas' shoulders jump to his ears. The younger turned, eyes wide before he found Fuma. His eyes flashed with knowing and understanding the second he sees him.
"Oh. Fuma-kun," Nicholas turned to face him. "What brings you here?" Candid as ever, like the wide collar of Fuma's flannel wasn't exposing more collarbone and chest than was probably appropriate for Fuma's mind.
Fuma did not feel candid. He felt the opposite of that, patience stretched so thin that he could snap at any moment.
"Is that my flannel?" Fuma blurted out. It was ungraceful. He could've probably dressed it up a little bit more, added a bit of preamble to soften the blow of the question and ease into it. Instead he tripped into the question like a cartoon character on a banana peel.
For a moment it looked like Nicholas was hesitating. But just as Fuma was about to get antsy, Nicholas exhaled, "It is. Are you…mad? That I wore your clothes without asking?" Fuma didn't know which part to address first. The admission felt like the initial drop of a rollercoaster and the follow up questions the twists and turns that were inevitable obstacles to the end.
"What? No, I'm not…not mad," Fuma swore that Nicholas' shoulders relaxed a fraction at that. He took the opportunity to get a little closer, the space between them shrinking to one meter. "I'm just…confused." There were more words he could've used. Confused, concerned, and going absolutely out of his mind.
"I just wanted to see what you'd do," Nicholas said and there was this look on his face like he was playing coy. He leaned in and this is familiar. The look in Nicholas' eyes all but begged for a reaction. Only this time, Fuma's flannel slips a little further, exposing the line of Nicholas' shoulder. "Are you going to do something about it?"
The words jostle the little bit of self control that Fuma had over his thoughts. He felt himself take the steps forward before he could blink. Nicholas moved with him, stepping backward until his knees hit the bed. Nicholas fell onto the mattress without a sound, eyes pinned on Fuma like if he looked away he'd miss something important.
His chest rose and fell under the fabric of Fuma's shirt and Fuma doesn't register that he was reaching for him until Nicholas' heat soaked skin slotted against his palm. For a second, Fuma hesitated. He couldn't just—
Nicholas' tongue darted out to wet his lip. Pink and shiny.
Compulsion shot through him like a bullet.
He grabbed at Nicholas' chin, holding him in place as Fuma leaned down to do what he'd been thinking of all along.
Their lips crash against each other, Fuma's forward motion and Nicholas' eagerness resulting in a collision that was entirely avoidable. Fuma didn't care, the pain ebbing away into a cave of carnal want. It was lips and tongue and teeth, and Nicholas, Nicholas, Nicholas— Everything was soaked in desperation, like now that they finally had permission to touch that they couldn't stop. It was messy in a way that Fuma had no desire to fix.
Fuma pressed Nicholas downward and Nicholas went with the pressure, ceding under Fuma's touch like he always did. He planted a knee between Nicholas' legs which earned him a small squeak. It was entirely too cute for the situation and the fondness in his chest collided with the instinct to do more.
Nicholas' lips were softer than Fuma ever imagined, and he tasted like sweat and the vanilla lip balm that he always wore. He could get addicted to the taste of it. Fuma tilted his head, running his tongue over Nicholas' bottom lip to taste more as Nicholas groaned. The sound made Fuma's brain light up with unfiltered pleasure.
One of Nicholas' hands finally fisted into the collar of his shirt, keeping him close as Fuma slipped his tongue inside of Nicholas' mouth. Nicholas let out this small noise when their tongues met and Fuma felt a bit insane, his grip on the younger's chin tightening. He wanted nothing more than to hear what else made Nicholas tick. What other noises he could make if Fuma pressed hard enough.
Fuma's own lungs protested and he knew this lightheadedness wasn't just a reaction from the kiss. He pulled away reluctantly, giving Nicholas' bottom lip one last lick before putting some space between them. Nicholas refused to let him go, his hand still tight on Fuma's shirt. But even from this angle, he could see him perfectly.
Nicholas with his hair a mess and eyes still closed, soft pants falling from his lips as he tried to regain his bearings. His other hand was fisted into the sheets, lashes fluttering but never opening. His lips looked slightly red, more swollen than usual. A dark mix of fascination and alarm hit Fuma at once that all this was because of him.
Nicholas' lips tug into a smile— Fuma would know because he was still watching, "I should've done this sooner if I had known— ah—"
"So it was on purpose," Fuma's own voice sounds a little ruined. Nicholas finally opened his eyes and he looked a little desperate as he nodded. He squirmed when Fuma moved his hand to the part of the flannel, slipping seamlessly under the fabric and over his skin.
"I just…want you to look at me," Nicholas said, voice wobbly and biting at his lip to hold in a sound. "You've been…distant."
Fuma soothed a hand over his hip, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel that way. I'm sorry Nico. But I'm…I'm looking at you. Always. If that's okay." It's a bit clumsy and all too tender for what Fuma liked. But it was worth it for the way Nicholas looked at him.
Nicholas's arms looped around his neck and Fuma was being dragged in for another kiss. This time it's softer, Fuma could feel the slight tremble of Nicholas' lips as they slid against his. It was equally as mind numbing as earlier to Fuma, mostly because it was Nicholas he was kissing. He'd been waiting for this for so long after all.
Nicholas ran warm. Fuma knew but feeling the heat of his skin under his palm was different. Fuma tried not to dwell on how perfect Nicholas' waist felt when he held it, nor the way Nicholas' body arched against his like he couldn't get close enough.
Nicholas pulled away a little, head turning to breathe and Fuma let the greed consume him. He ran his lips over the curve of his jaw, listening for the way his breath hitched when he kissed at certain spots just to memorize it. Nicholas' hand was in his hair, holding him there.
"W-Wait, Fuma-kun," Nicholas shivered as Fuma pressed a few chaste kisses against his neck. "Hyung, p-please—"
"Yeah?" Fuma asked, breathless a little at Nicholas' choice of words. He moved aside so he wasn't crushing the younger before he could speak.
There was something hesitant in Nicholas' gaze as he spoke, "This isnt just like…a physical thing, right? I dont do so well with casual."
"You have no idea," Fuma dragged his hand higher on purpose. "How much worse I probably am with casual." His palm landed naturally over Nicholas' heart. He could feel it thundering under his fingertips and Fuma was sure his own heart was doing the same.
Nicholas cursed, the sound startling Fuma a little, "Stop being so hot, I'm trying to confess to you." That puts a smile on Fuma's face as he moves his hand away.
"You drive me crazy, Fuma," Nicholas said, a dopey smile on his face. This look was familiar, an unadulterated form of happiness that Fuma liked to see on him. "I want you to be mine."
Fuma couldn't help but want to tease, "Just that?"
But then Nicholas shook his head, "I want to hold your hand and kiss you and take you out to dates too. I want…everything with you."
"So honest," Fuma muttered out. His heart ached from the way Nicholas made him feel. Fuma felt clumsy in comparison, all the words leaving him in a rush when he looked Nicholas in the eyes. Still, he wanted to try to convey that, somehow, "I'd like that. Doing everything with you. I like you a lot, Nico."
A soft laugh left Nicholas' lips, "So cute." Fuma didn't understand where Nicholas was coming from. In his eyes the cutest person in the room was right under him. The emotion overwhelmed him so much that he leaned back over him, pressing a kiss to Nicholas' lips.
"We'll have to tell Euijoo and everyone tomorrow," Fuma said as he pulled away. "About us dating."
Nicholas groaned in annoyance, throwing his head back against the bed, "Don't ruin the mood by bringing up Juju right now."
"Have you forgotten that I'm the sub-leader of this group," Fuma said in the mock-stern voice he liked to use. He almost forgot that Nicholas' hand was still resting against his nape until he uses the leverage to pull Fuma closer. Fuma stopped him a few centimeters short of kissing him.
"I haven't. I know we have a job, but fuck—" Nicholas was squirming again, trying to get him to budge. "Just— You have to kiss me again. I've waited for so long, hyung."
"Bossy as ever," Fuma tutted but he couldn't disagree with Nicholas' idea.
That was exactly why he leaned back in, letting the younger pull him into an eager kiss. Nicholas' leg immediately wrapped around his waist, heel digging into his lower back like he wanted to be closer. Fuma let it happen, feeling his body light up as it slotted against Nicholas' own.
Fuma let his hand cup Nicholas' face, controlling the angle a little as their lips grew slick against each other once again. And when Nicholas' tongue darted out to swipe at Fuma's lip he couldn't help but tighten his grip. It made Nicholas gasp and Fuma replied to the sound with fervor. Every single thing was going straight to the pit of his stomach and Fuma wondered if it was even possible to be this turned on after a few kisses.
Fuma shifted his weight and this time he felt Nicholas go rigid. Nicholas' mouth hung open for a moment, unmoving. Fuma pulled back instantly, his worry and confusion melting when he realized just where his thigh was pressing. Fuma unconsciously flexed and Nicholas whimpered right then and there. The sound stole all of Fuma's air and now that he was paying attention he could feel Nicholas' hard-on against him with full clarity.
"Does it feel good?" Fuma found himself asking, feeling foreign in his own body because the person he'd been in love with this whole time is hard against his thigh. It isn't supposed to be romantic but in a twisted way Fuma found that it was. Nicholas doesn't audibly answer but his hips kick forward in a pitiful grind. "Do you want me to—"
Nicholas wrapped his arms around Fuma's shoulders, using his weight to pull Fuma back down, "Just keep…kissing me please." Nicholas' voice sounded breathy and Fuma couldn't deny him when he asked so sweetly.
Their lips met in desperation this time, Nicholas' teeth sharp as he bit down on Fuma's lip. The sting sent something hot into Fuma's stomach as Nicholas' hips start grinding up in earnest. Fuma doesn't know what to do when another garbled moan falls out of Nicholas' mouth and into his own.
Nicholas' jaw went slack and Fuma pulled back a little to take in his face. There's a furrow in his brow that Fuma had come to associate with pain and yet he knew that what he felt was the opposite. His mouth was open, the shiny pink of it so enticing as he panted. Fuma wanted nothing more than to imprint the sight of him into the back of his eyelids.
And then Fuma's eyes snagged on Nicholas' chest. The damn flannel again.
Fuma leaned down, careful to keep his thigh in place as he pressed a few kisses to Nicholas' jaw and neck before reaching his destination. He licked a broad stripe across Nicholas' collarbones. They had teased him enough this whole entire time, so Fuma didn't waste time before nipping at them. He kept it light, mostly because leaving a mark would get Nicholas in trouble.
Nicholas' hand tightened in his hair, urging him on. The slight sting of his hair getting pulled makes him let out a grunt and he pressed his teeth a little bit firmer into Nicholas' skin. That made Nicholas hold on tighter and Fuma decided that he could allow himself one bite. He laved over the junction of Nicholas' shoulder before biting down. Hard.
Nicholas' body locked up, a loud whine leaving his lips just as Fuma pulled away. Fuma caught the way his eyes were scrunched shut, no sound leaving his lips as his hips stilled. Nicholas crashed their lips together one more time, his hand finally loosening its grip on Fuma's nape and his leg falling away and onto the bed with a soft thump.
It took a second for Fuma to register what just happened.
"Did you—" Nicholas managed to nod a little to Fuma's words, one hand now thrown over his eyes. "Because I—" Nicholas' hand shot out, covering Fuma's mouth with a little glare. Shut up. It was a clear message if Fuma had ever seen one.
Fuma couldn't contain his grin at having reduced Nicholas to this. His hair was matted to his forehead, panting like he'd run a marathon. There was a flush running down to his chest and disappearing under his collar. Fuma found that he was starting to like the color red and pink on Nicholas even more than he already did.
Fuma gently moved to the side, careful of his legs and mindful of the rest of Nicholas. Nicholas blinked up at him a little and Fuma tilted his head in question. Nicholas shook his head, continuing to watch his face.
"Stop staring," Fuma said, pushing at Nicholas' cheek with his finger. Nicholas' eyes drifted lower instead, down to his neck, and down further to the seat of his pants. Predictably, his hand moved toward Fuma's hardness and Fuma caught it. "It's okay. I'll be fine."
Nicholas pouted, "But hyung—"
"Seriously, not today," Fuma said, though a fondness was filling his chest at Nicholas' eagerness to help. "I'll let you help next time. Tonight I was satisfied with helping you." And, Fuma's brain whispered, he had more than enough material to think of when he got in the shower.
Nicholas grumbled a little bit, "Fine, fine. This is what I get for dating someone so responsible. Ugh." The word 'dating' made Fuma's smile widen. His jaw was starting to hurt from smiling so much. Or maybe it was from the intense make out session he just had.
"Now you need to shower and get to sleep," Fuma said, sitting up. Nicholas held out a hand and he tugged the younger up with him. Nicholas wobbled a little, still sightly boneless and he leaned into Fuma heavily.
"Are you gonna come in with me?" Nicholas asked like it was the most natural thing in the world. Fuma choked on his breath almost immediately.
"You're crazy," Fuma blurted out, feeling the flush settle against his cheeks again. "Of course not, I…"
"Tch, fine," Nicholas groaned before moving to stand. "You better be here by the time I'm done cleaning up. Or else I'll come looking for you." Nicholas did a cute little 'I'm watching you' sign before finally slipping out of the room.
Fuma went to follow. He wasn't about to make Nicholas wait for him. There was just one thing Fuma miscalculated. There was a gasp as he exited the room. Fuma froze for a second. He brought his practice bag in front of him as he turned only to see Kei and Yuma there. It just had to be these two.
"Oh you guys definitely made out," Yuma said with a grin. Meanwhile Kei's jaw was open so wide that it looked like it hurt.
"None of your business," Fuma said, brushing past the both of them. He managed to duck into his room to grab his sleeping clothes but the two were still waiting for him when he got out.
Kei had this serious look on his face, "Fuma. As the eldest it technically is my business to—"
"Okay, we're dating now. Happy?" Fuma interrupted. Kei's jaw was back on the ground. Yuma had this wide grin on his face like he was enjoying the show.
Kei sputtered, "When did…How did you—"
"That's all that I'm giving you right now," Fuma said, bee-lining for the bathroom. The lock to the bathroom turned with a click and Fuma immediately shed everything to shower. The encounter with them two had thankfully calmed down Fuma's raging boner and he was in and out of the shower in fifteen minutes.
When he made his way to Nicholas' room, he found that the younger wasn't there yet. Fuma thought he should make himself comfortable amidst Nicholas' plushies and pillows. Nicholas entered minutes later, stopping by the door with a smile. His hair was wet. So that's what took him so long.
Nicholas sat down on his bed, still beaming, "You're quick."
"You told me to be," Fuma said before nodding at Nicholas' hair. "Are you going to dry it?"
"Too lazy," Nicholas said, raising his towel to rub at the still dripping strands. Then he turned to Fuma with a twinkle in his eyes, "Will you do it for me?"
"I thought you didn't like people touching your hair."
That was another Nicholas-behavior that Fuma had catalogued. He didn't like getting his hair touched by anyone. He only made exceptions for the hair-and-makeup team. Any of the members faced immediate retribution in the form of a swift elbow or a loud yell. Fuma himself never really tried touching Nicholas' hair, but he had always found it curious. Interesting, even.
"Well, you're not 'people'," Nicholas huffed, opening his drawer and pulling out his hair dryer. "And plus it's only this time."
Fuma gingerly took the hairdryer in hand, "Really?"
Nicholas waved the hair dryer around, "If you keep stalling the offer's gonna expire." Fuma didn't need to be told twice. He plugged it into a socket as Nicholas moved to sit on the ground with one of his cushions. The dryer whirred to life as Fuma stared down at Nicholas' hair.
He aimed the nozzle at his hand first, testing the heat before moving it to Nicholas' head. The younger was leaning against his leg. His shoulder was pressed between Fuma's legs, hand fiddling with the hem of Fuma's shorts as he methodically moved the hair dryer back and forth.
After a minute, Fuma got the courage to sink his fingers against Nicholas' hair. It was…wet. Obviously. And Nicholas stilled. But he didn't say anything, so Fuma kept going. He tried to be gentle as he started carding his fingers through Nicholas' hair.
Maybe his nerves were showing because Nicholas lifted his head to meet his eyes, "Keep going, hyung." And out of everything they had done tonight, maybe this was what pierced Fuma's heart the most.
Nicholas trusted him. Maybe he didn't understand what exactly this trust meant, but he was still given it. Fuma understood that with perfect clarity. Nicholas wasn't just trusting him with his hair but also with something vulnerable to him.
It dawned on him now that this trust included handing Fuma his tender heart. Fuma knew first hand just how vast Nicholas' heart was, overflowing with so much love for his family, his members, and their fans. It spilled over into his passions, the way he danced with zeal and coordinated outfits for himself like it was life-or-death.
To be entrusted with something like this; to have Nicholas strip back any and all armor that he usually donned to be so bright and entrust his heart to Fuma's unprepared hands… Fuma didn't know if he deserved it, really. But what he did know was that he would protect Nicholas' smile with all that he had. If Nicholas wanted to trust him with his heart, then Fuma would do his utmost to make him the happiest and brightest he could be.
Fuma dragged his hand through Nicholas' hair more firmly and the younger sighed in contentment as he pillowed his cheek against Fuma's knee. Fuma muttered out an occasional 'sorry' when he held the dryer too close and Nicholas hummed when Fuma gently untangled his hair.
After a few more minutes, Nicholas' hair was mostly dry. He almost wished that the moment lasted longer. Nicholas' dark strands glistened in the lamplight. They felt soft against his hands and Fuma was reluctant to lift his hand away.
When he did, Nicholas turned his head with a frown. Fuma apologetically smiled, "We're done." Nicholas clambered up on the bed as Fuma tucked the hair dryer away. Fuma was no hair stylist, but even then Nicholas hardly needed it when he looked beautiful every which way. Even with the hair falling into his eyes. Especially because of it, Fuma thought.
"Thank you, hyung," Nicholas murmured, voice low and tinged with sleep. "Let's sleep?" The invitation was far more than Fuma was expecting. His surprise must've shown on his face because Nicholas rolled his eyes, pushing him back into his plushies.
"You thought I'd kick you out?" Nicholas huffed, eyes still half-lidded from sleepiness. "You're so silly." Fuma would've protested a little if Nicholas didn't immediately lie down next to him. He threw the blanket over them both, snuggling in close. He didn't even give Fuma a choice, not that Fuma minded.
"Nico?" Nicholas hummed, lips pressed somewhere against Fuma's shoulder and collar. "Thank you for trusting me."
Nicholas muttered something incoherent before shifting, "Thank you for always taking care of me. Love you." And with that absolute bombshell of a statement, Nicholas must drift off to sleep because his breathing smooths out. Fuma felt almost jealous that he was able to sleep easily after dropping something like that.
As an idol he heard so many confessions of love toward him from so many different types of people. But none would stay with him as closely as this one would. Nicholas' half-mumbled version, voice barely awake as he said something that sounded so easy for him to say. Fuma tightened his grip on the younger slightly. The words burrowed into Fuma's heart and into his memory where it replayed over and over until it slowly lulled him to sleep.
And when he woke up tomorrow to Nicholas still asleep, he would probably be unable to resist taking a photo. He'd excuse it as something about it being their first day dating. Then when Nicholas woke up hours later, he would probably tease Fuma about the day before, tugging down his shirt to show off the slight imprint of teeth Fuma left behind. And then maybe they would tell everyone over breakfast, and Euijoo would choke on his juice as Yuma finally whooped and cheered. Kei would get all teary and start up a speech about friendship and love that only half of them would pay attention to.
Nicholas would smile brightly at him, holding his hand for everyone to see. And cheesily enough, Fuma knew that as long as they were together that everything would be alright. That from now on, they could exist not only as their own but also as something new, together. That Fuma would get all the attention, the dates, and the kisses he had once dreamed off. That in the end, Nicholas saw him just as Fuma saw Nicholas. And that would be more than enough.