Chapter Text
The sun has long since set, and the night is just a few degrees beyond freezing.
As the two boys sit together, the scene becomes something familiar and warm. How many times have Ricky and Gyuvin sat on this very bench in Ricky’s backyard, talking about everything and nothing? How many times has Gyuvin laughed so hard at one of Ricky’s jokes, he nearly falls onto the grass?
When they’re together like this, Ricky can almost pretend time is still.
“Are you cold?” Gyuvin asks, adjusting the way his cloak falls over Ricky’s shoulders.
Ricky shakes his head, letting Gyuvin fidget with the cloak anyway. “I know this is unfair of me to ask, but must you leave? You were already absent so often for your first year of university, and now you are really leaving home,” he whispers, the lantern beside his lap flickering meagerly as the candle grows ever shorter, casting dancing shadows across both of their faces. Gyuvin’s eyes currently hold no mirth, but the candle gives his gaze the sparkle that Ricky sees everywhere he goes, even in sleep.
Gyuvin swallows and Ricky tries not to follow the line of his throat. “You know I do not want to. But my family…”
“I know, I know. You cannot refuse them.” Ricky finds it funny, almost cruel, how nobody can refuse anyone who resides within the Kim household, the band of brothers much too likable. Zhang Hao practically fell in love with Hanbin within mere days, and there is no-one in the world who could ever say no to Yujin. Taerae is a talented gem, adored by everyone. As for Gyuvin, there is not a single soul who does not love him. Ricky included.
Gyuvin’s eyes are wide, his smile small and pained. He squeezes Ricky’s fingers gently and Ricky cannot help but wish he would hold onto them tighter. “What are you thinking about, Ricky-yah?”
“You,” Ricky answers, a shot of bravery entering his veins. “I know I cannot ask you to stay, but I hope you know that I wish you could.”
“I, as well.” Gyuvin smiles wider, his grip on their hands turning into iron. “Not a day will pass where I will not think of you, believe me.”
“I suppose I will have to,” Ricky replies. His heart, as traitorous as it is, beats heavily in the silence of midnight, and he wonders if Gyuvin can hear it.
“I shall only be gone for around a year and a half’s time, you know.” Gyuvin breathes around a rock lodged between his lungs. “Eighteen months will go by quickly, will they not? Studying abroad will only make me a more cultured person. I will have more to talk to you about.”
“I suppose that is true.” Even a fortnight is too long without you, Ricky thinks. “You must write to me often,” he says instead, the bravery from earlier gone.
“As if you have to tell me. I will be writing to you every day.” Gyuvin bows his head, his lips ever so close to Ricky’s, and he says, “When I come back, I will give you only the finest things from my studies and travels.”
“Hmm, well, that is what I deserve, considering you will be missing my twenty-first birthday,” Ricky says with a huff, trying to tease but making them both frown more.
“The only birthday of yours I will ever miss, believe me,” Gyuvin whispers, his words landing softly across Ricky’s cupid’s bow, their faces still close but never close enough.
Ricky wishes he was brave enough to break the distance between them. He only grasps onto Gyuvin’s fingers tighter until they both turn white-knuckled, until he feels Gyuvin’s nails dig into his palm. “I shall hold you to such a promise.”
“I would hope you do.”
They spend a good handful of hours sitting there, saying goodbye without ever uttering it, holding each other 's hands even when every candle goes out and the early morning birds begin to call.
“Are you not tired?” Ricky asks, once the sun begins to rise. They’re almost out of time now.
“I will sleep on the way there,” Gyuvin says with a deep breath, taking in the way Ricky smells like strawberries and vanilla, alongside a hint of rich earth and something vaguely salty-sweet. Ricky’s scent has always been a comfort to Gyuvin. He only wishes he could bring a bottle of it out to sea with him.
“Dream of me,” Ricky teases.
Gyuvin is much too serious when he says, “I will.”
Yujin sniffles as they watch Gyuvin’s carriage grow smaller and smaller. “Despite his annoying personality, I really will miss him.”
Ricky leans closer to Yujin with a small laugh, resting his hand on Yujin’s shoulder blades. “Did you tell your dear brother how much he would be missed?”
“I told him to buy me trinkets that remind him of me,” Yujin says. “And I gave him my favorite set of playing cards.”
“I see. Is it because you hope he finds other people to play with?”
Yujin gives another wet, snot-stuffed sniff. “I know I should say yes, but I wish the opposite.”
Ricky laughs. He doesn’t need to say anything in agreement. Yujin is so incredibly endearing and reminiscent of Hanbin and Gyuvin, he sometimes forgets they don’t all share the same exact parents and last name. It reminds him of himself and Zhang Hao. True family.
“I like the gift you left him, by the way,” Yujin says, long after Gyuvin’s carriage disappeared into the distance, the both of them still standing there. Hanbin and Zhang Hao are talking to Taerae, Matthew, and Jiwoong a few meters away, keeping an eye on the two of them.
Ricky turns to glance at Yujin, eyebrows raised. “You did?”
Yujin nods, earnest, looking slightly embarrassed by his own enthusiasm. “Your painting skills are truly magical, I mean it. Thank you for choosing to use them for a portrait of our family.”
Ricky thinks of how much time he’d spent on Gyuvin’s smile. “Of course,” he says, voice faint. He wants to tease Yujin but decides to let the kid go. “It was the least I could do to show my appreciation.”
Yujin hums in agreement. What he does not say is that he knows Gyuvin wants Ricky to be a part of the Kim household, too — some things are told in confidence between brothers, and some things Gyuvin needs to figure out for himself first.
Ricky’s face crinkles into something slightly fond and mostly exhausted, as it often does after he turned twenty-one nearly a year ago, dealing with every expectation placed on him since.
“Ge,” Ricky says, trying not to sound too disgusted, “I really do not find this to be necessary.”
Zhang Hao only hums as he pats down Ricky’s sleeves, eyeing the patterns of velvet that span across sheer white fabric with a gaze that can only be described as motherly-critical. He clicks his tongue. “You might not find this necessary, but I do. With these new outfits, Queen Haechan will have no choice but to name you the rose of the season.”
“And what if I do not want to be the rose of the season…?” Ricky mutters, his eye catching Zhang Hao’s for a split second. He bites his cheek.
Zhang Hao sighs. “Ricky-yah, listen to me. Even if you went to the debutante ball wearing hand-me-down outfits from who-knows-where, you would still be the prettiest omega in the entire room. These do not make much of a difference.”
“I believe your opinion is a bit biased regarding my looks, and even if it were not, I doubt it,” Ricky says, vitriol dripping in his tone. He tries not to imagine the way people would whisper about him and fails, frowning until a snippet of dark brown hair, smiling eyes, and a toothy grin flashes between his thoughts, traitorous and parasitic.
“My opinion about your beauty and natural charms is simply fact,” Zhang Hao says with a good-natured smile, but Ricky can tell his patience is beginning to wear thin. “If we were less fortunate, you would be wearing my old outfits, or we would have to find a cheaper store. Luckily, we have the lovely Tomorrow's Together Boutique and I have the money to fund you. You will be sure to shine.”
Ricky clears his throat. “I am more than grateful for our fortune, ge, however,” and he lets out a huff, “I do not wish to stand there and be gawked at like I am a piece of meat by all the bachelors, especially not the alphas, and even more so, the judgemental mamas. I feel like a bug, eager to be squashed at any moment. It is even worse, considering I am the brother of a Duchess, and everyone will be looking my way regardless.”
Zhang Hao’s eyes turn sad and soft, which is almost worse than what they were doing earlier. He grazes the underside of Ricky’s chin with his knuckle with another sigh. “I know, Ricky-yah. I am sorry it has to be this way. You know I am, do you not?”
Ricky indulges himself with a few moments of silent staring, then a hesitant nod. He knows that as an omega, Zhang Hao has had to go through the same thing he did: a life of choices that were not entirely his own, of preparing oneself to marry into a family to ensure success. Despite all the academic and social achievements beneath Zhang Hao’s belt, his brother was still underestimated because of his secondary sex.
“There is no need for apologies. It is not as though the way society works is your fault, anyway. Nor did you ask to fall in love with a Duke, or to be named the rose of the season by the Queen.”
“While all of that may be true, I still wish I could protect you.” Zhang Hao’s stare melts into something wistful.
Ricky turns away to look at the mirror. He doesn’t have an answer to that. He turns his attention to the silk and velvet details of his outfit and how they shine in the light, accentuating the glitter of his eyeshadow and jewelry, and as much as he hates standing here and spending money on more outfits he positively does not need, he can’t deny the fact that he looks… nice.
Yeonjun, one of the dressmakers, comes towards them, a smile on his face as he takes in the way Ricky watches his reflection. His eyes focus on the fabric before meeting Ricky’s in the mirror. “Are you quite content with this one?”
“Very much,” Ricky says, at the same time Zhang Hao says, “Absolutely.”
“You five always do the finest work,” Zhang Hao cheers, letting his hand rest on Yeonjun’s shoulder for a few fluttering seconds. Their happy scents fill the room, and Ricky lets himself have an internal snicker at the thought of meeting Hanbin later — he’ll no doubt pout about Zhang Hao smelling like another alpha.
Yeonjun practically beams and does a small bow. “You flatter me and my mates too much, my Grace.”
“Take my words and my money with confidence, Yeonjun. And how many times have I told you to just call me by my name?”
“I am afraid I cannot do that, my Grace, at least not with other people around,” Yeonjun says, garnering a playful eye roll from Zhang Hao. Turning, Yeonjun nods at Ricky, gesturing at the outfit with a wave of his hand, “Lord Shen, I am more than honored that you find our services satisfying. Thank you once again for choosing to work with us.”
“Of course. Thank you for all of your effort,” Ricky says with a nod of his own, a pang of something ugly curdling in his chest. He’ll never get used to people older than him addressing him formally; it’s never felt right and it never will.
Yeonjun shoots him and Zhang Hao another award-winning smile. “The next time your family comes in, I will be sure to grant you a discount.”
“Many thanks,” Zhang Hao says, a sparkle in his eye that makes him look younger, if only for a moment.
Ricky wonders if he’ll ever be able to be as sociable as his brother, if people will ever love to be around him the way they flock to Zhang Hao. He’s never been one to try and blend in with society all too much, but Zhang Hao does more than that. Zhang Hao has learned how to play society like his prized violin, his manicured fingers and glossy smile shining symbols of carefully-practiced power and precision.
Ricky sighs as he changes back into the clothes he was wearing before, another pang entering his chest, another flash of a wide grin and rosy cheeks worming its way back into his head. Society never mattered much when Gyuvin was by his side.
“You seem distant lately,” Zhang Hao comments on the carriage ride home.
Ricky tears his gaze away from the window, where the streets and people all blend into the same colored blurs. “Really?”
A nod. Zhang Hao’s mouth twists into something awkward. “If you wish to talk about anything, you know I am here for you, right?”
Ricky lets out a small sigh, smoothing down the lapels of his suit despite them already being flat. “I know, ge.” He thinks about the stack of letters in the uppermost drawer of his dresser, wrapped in linen and tied with a strand of silk. He thinks about summers running around in fields of flowers, of gentle fingers tucking a rose behind his ear. Being called beautiful only mattered when it came out of one person’s mouth.
Zhang Hao taps Ricky’s knee, startling him. “Do you wish to visit Felix’s bakery?”
The fact that Zhang Hao has always remembered Felix’s bakery is Ricky’s favorite remains unspoken, but appreciated. Ricky straightens up, placing his hand on Zhang Hao’s with a smile. “Let us see what this week’s specials are. Perhaps we can get Ollie and Yujin something.”
“Always thinking of those naughty kids,” Zhang Hao says with a laugh.
Ricky manages a genuine laugh. “You are the one who has always taken care of them. Besides, Ollie is our little brother; it is our job to spoil him, is it not?”
“It very much is my fault for spoiling them, and our duty to do so. Today, then?”
“Today.”
Zhang Hao knocks against the carriage wall until it slows and then stops, opening the door and peeking his head out.
“Qingshan-jie, if you could please change course and go towards Lord Lee Felix’s bakery instead, that would be wonderful,” Zhang Hao says, settling back into his seat moments later, his hands smoothing the wrinkles of his pants. The driver, a beta whose name is Qingshan, has been with them for years, one of their late mother’s old friends.
Ricky knows Qingshan’s favorite from the bakery by now, and he supposes that in small ways, he is still surrounded and comforted by familiarity. At least the way Qingshan always has her long hair tied up in a bun will never change, nor will the way she treats Ricky like her own son, especially after his mother died.
Once they arrive at the bakery, he promises to get a bag of red bean buns just for her.
Qingshan dips her head, “You have always been kind to me, Ricky-gongzi.”
His chest warms at the honorific; he’s always glad to hear it from people within their family and house, any titles or nicknames they give him fitting comfortably in their native language. “It is the least I can do.”
She smiles.
“Ready?” Zhang Hao asks, gesturing towards the open door.
Ricky takes in the honey scent of sugar and bread, finding that perhaps today won’t be such a bad day after all
“Thank you for the new clothes,” Ricky says over dinner, placing a dumpling and slice of beef into Zhang Hao’s bowl of rice, “and for taking me to the bakery. I appreciate all of your gestures, but I promise I am alright.”
“I trust you,” Zhang Hao says, plopping the dumpling back into Ricky’s bowl, “but you must know I am simply just worried about you.”
“I am… nervous, is all. Being out in society is going to be exhausting, and I am not quite looking forward to it, as you all know.” Ricky glances outside, at how the dusk has already settled in. “There are only hours left before I go to mee the queen, and four days left until the debutante ball. When my clothes for the ball arrive tomorrow, it will all feel much too real.”
Ollie places another dumpling into Ricky’s bowl, earning him a side-eye from one brother and a satisfied smirk from the other. “Ricky-ge, no matter what,” Ollie says with a determined fist on the table, “you will have us by your side. When I am out in society in a few years, I will be sure to help you.”
Zhang Hao gives Ollie's shoulder a light smack. “You talk as though your brother will not be able to find a suitable match by the time I let you out into society. Do you have no faith?”
“Ow,” Ollie pouts, sticking his tongue out at Zhang Hao. “I mean, I was just saying…”
“Uh huh.”
Ollie pouts more. “Also, I’m a beta, so after my first year as a debutante, I will have the choice to be a bachelor instead. You and Ricky-ge were not so lucky.”
Ricky shakes his head, “Silly Ollie, you must stop worrying. But I do appreciate the sentiment.” He ruffles Ollie’s hair, laughing when he sees Ollie’s pout turn into a grin. “Let us see what happens, alright?”
“Alright, alright.” Ollie sinks further down into his seat, but he’s still smiling. Ricky lets out a huff.
Truly, no matter what, he’ll have his family.
Ricky glances at Zhang Hao from across the table and knows just how much his brother has had to sacrifice for them. Hanbin has his own estate just a few kilometers away, and yet Zhang Hao tries his best to spend as much time with them instead of joining Hanbin at their would-be home. Managing an estate befits someone as princely as his brother.
If Ricky were to chase away every possible suitor, would it really be so bad? He could spend his time here, right here, sitting next to his family, watching Ollie grow up day after day.
One day, his mind ever so carefully reminds him, Ollie will have to leave this house, too. Where will you end up, then?
He glances down at his rice and wonders if being a spinster would really be that awful. He doesn’t even want to entertain the idea of something else.
Ricky has gotten into the habit of sitting by his window, gazing outside at the Kim’s house just across the street. Despite having the last name, Gyuvin doesn’t reside there anymore — not after his stepmother whisked him away into the wonders of the Sung Estate. But before Hanbin’s lovely mother came and swept up the Kims, there was Gyuvin and Taerae. There was Gyuvin’s bright smile, only a block away. There was also an ugly divorce brewing behind those closed doors, a battle that both of the Kim children had to bear some kind of witness to.
When Ricky closes his eyes, he can imagine a younger him and Gyuvin running along the asphalt, holding hands in the front yard as they laughed beneath the afternoon sun. He can picture them sitting on the bench in Ricky’s back yard, surrounded by flowers and animals in the spring and summer, spindling tree branches and snow during the rest of the year.
Worries like parents and presenting and finding a spouse disappeared when they were together. They had no real pressures or expectations yet. It changed when Gyuvin presented as an alpha and Ricky an omega just a few months afterwards. It changed more when Gyuvin said his step-mama wanted him to leave, as Taerae, now married, could stay at their old estate and manage everything with his mates. The idea of Gyuvin no longer being a rock’s throw away tilted Ricky’s entire world.
How carefree and happy they used to be.
Ricky can only hope that Ollie and Yujin and the rest of the children of the ton get to experience such naive joy before their debut — he is nearing his nineteenth birthday and already feels so, so old.
His mind brings him back to the stack of letters he has tucked away in the dresser. It has only been one week since Gyuvin’s last letter and three days since Ricky sent his reply, but here he sits, all alone at the window, gazing outside like a wistful widow. Here he sits, staring at a bedroom just across from his, waiting for a light to appear behind the glass when he knows it never will.
Taerae, Matthew, and Jiwoong never step foot into Gyuvin’s old room, a fact that Ricky knows from both Taerae and Gyuvin saying so. Taerae, ever fond of his siblings, doesn’t touch them because he wants them to stay the same for when they visit. Ricky hopes that when Gyuvin comes back from his time abroad, they will be able to step foot into his old bedroom room together — no doubt there is still a stain on the wall from the time Gyuvin had accidentally spilled his tea from laughing too hard.
Regardless, Ricky will keep waiting. Gyuvin usually replies rather fast; perhaps his letter will arrive in time for the ball, serving as some kind of comfort as Ricky dives into a sea of dressed-up sharks.
(Not for the first time, Ricky falls asleep on his window seat. Also not for the first time, Zhang Hao sneaks in later to carefully place a blanket over him, making sure the curtains are drawn so when the sun rises, the light won’t wake him up.)
“Are you enjoying the view, my lord?”
Gyuvin glances away from the sunset to smile at his driver, letting out a yawn as he stretches and gives the dirt road a little kick. “Seojoon, you must call me by my name one of these days. You have been with my family for ages.”
Seojoon’s wrinkled face is kind as he jests. “Ah, but I am not that old, am I?”
“No,” Gyuvin laughs, “in fact, if I had to guess, I would say you look not even thirty.”
“My hair is white as snow, and still, you flatter me.”
“As do you,” Gyuvin says, looking back out at the open countryside. “And to answer your question, I do enjoy the view. I could never grow tired of it.”
The stretches of wheatfields before him glow due to the sunset, torturously reminding him of how Ricky’s lime-bleached hair would turn into a brilliant shade of gold and amber beneath the afternoon sun. If he closes his eyes, he can almost hear a laugh, familiar and breathy; he can almost reach out and touch a mole on a pale cheek.
He opens his eyes to catch the last bits of the sun disappearing behind the horizon and adds, voice turning soft, “But I have much more beautiful things to see once I am home.”
Ricky won’t say it out loud, but he enjoys the weekly meetings he has at the Kim household, even if the one person he wishes was here isn’t. Despite Gyuvin’s absence being a constant ache between his ribs, he sits down with Taerae and Zhang Hao, (and occasionally, Jiwoong and Matthew), beyond grateful for his friends.
“So, how are you feeling?” Taerae asks, pouring Ricky another cup of tea, his form beyond perfect — Ricky doesn’t believe he’s ever seen Taerae spill a single drop before.
“Like I want to throw up,” Ricky answers honestly and easily, smiling when his response pulls a laugh out of Taerae and a fond eye roll from Zhang Hao.
“Throw up?” Taerae repeats.
“He has been playing sad songs on the guitar or the piano for weeks on end.” Zhang Hao puts his cup down on the table, and Taerae dutifully leans forward to fill it as well. He sighs as he nudges Ricky, “You are so dramatic.”
“He gets it from you,” Taerae says, gasping when Zhang Hao slaps his wrist. Even then, he manages not to spill any tea.
“Taerae-hyung is absolutely right, you know.” Ricky hides his smile behind his cup, blowing on it gently before taking a small sip.
“Yes, yes. You inherited all of my bad traits,” Zhang Hao crosses his legs, “and none of my good ones.”
“Yah!”
“Ha.”
“Ugh.” Ricky folds his arms. “One thing for sure is that I did not inherit my drawing ability from you.”
“Hey!”
“See what I mean? Dramatic,” Taerae sing-songs, gesturing at them both.
Ricky just laughs. He drops his arms to sip his tea and doesn’t say anything, because what can he say? It’s true.
“You know,” Taerae says a good chunk of minutes later, already on their second pot of tea, “sometimes it takes more than one season out to find a good match. If I had stuck with the match my parents wanted me to have in my first season, I would have never found love within Jiwoong or Matthew. It helps that as a beta, I got to be a bachelor in my second season, but still.”
“Well, it also must be noted that most people are not lucky enough to have two people chase after them,” Zhang Hao says, nudging Taerae with a cheeky grin. “It has only happened a few times in our country.”
Ricky nods in agreement, thinking back to how the Queen had clapped at the pure theatrics when Taerae asked him to bless not one, but two of his marriages. “You were truly a special case, hyung.”
“You mean I was an extraordinary case, my dear. Queen Haechan said so himself.” Taerae leans back in his chair, his eyes teetering off towards the wall, where many paintings of him, Matthew, and Jiwoong proudly hang. “But you understand what I mean, do you not?”
“...I do.”
“Besides, need I remind you your brother is Duchess Zhang? You have no reason to really worry about finances. Furthermore, I genuinely believe that one should try to marry for love, if the circumstances are given to them. I especially believe this for you, Ricky-yah. You have the privilege to have some choice in these matters. See that you make proper use of it.”
“Spoken like a true rationalizer,” Zhang Hao teases, but his smile turns a bit more serious when he looks at Ricky. “Taerae is right, you know. You do not have to worry about finding a match for the sake of supporting us, so please focus on what you feel. But do keep your manners when telling bachelors to leave you alone, please.”
Ricky lets out a sigh. “I will try my best.” What he does not say is that he is, in fact, waiting for a season when a certain someone will be back.
Zhang Hao rests his hand on Ricky’s arm, gentle and steady. “I have the utmost faith in you.”
The next few days go by in a whirlwind as Ricky tries on dress after suit after corset, more than grateful for his family’s wealth, but grimacing as he watches how easily Zhang Hao spends parts of their fortune on his clothes. He’d be more excited if he didn’t know what they were for.
“They have to be eye-catching!” Zhang Hao had said.
But Ricky really does not want to catch any eyes. Not those of the crazed mamas, the uninteresting and sometimes downright horrid bachelors, and especially not those of the Queen’s. Ricky knows how to defend himself, how to wield a fan in a way that is deadly, the pressure points he can jab with an elbow or a hairpin to render someone useless, and while these tactics might work on a greasy alpha, it won’t on Queen Haechan or the rest of society.
Truly, Ricky dreads the days before the Queen’s ball when the debutantes have to be presented before His Majesty the Queen, but he knows that it’s inevitable. He might as well not worry so much about something he cannot change.
Despite handfuls of both dread and excitement, Ricky does have to admit that he looks… something close to beautiful. He has jewelry and other accessories galore, and one particular outfit makes him look like — dare he say — someone worthy of it, someone noble, what with the pearl and lace details and flowing fabric.
During one of his last fittings, Yeonjun and Soobin tried their best to reassure him, their smiles and eyes genuine even as they fretted over one stitch to another. Ricky cannot imagine ever working such a high-stress, high-demand job.
“We will make you even finer outfits for next season, should you not find anyone this time,” Soobin promises, smoothing down one of Ricky’s sleeves. “Although, I have no doubt that people will be fawning over you.”
Ricky struggles to not make a face at the thought of people fawning over him. Eugh.
Yeonjun nods resolutely as he scribbles down something in his notes, nodding again when Soobin points at a ribbon detail on Ricky’s waist and says they need to change the length. Yeonjun meets Ricky’s eye with a smile. “I can assure you, someone with your lovely face and stature will look wondrous in a multitude of styles.”
“Beomgyu and Kai already have ideas for what to design for you next season,” Soobin adds with a dimpled smile. Something about his earnestness does serve to make the ache in Ricky’s chest feel a bit better. “Taehyun and Yeonjun, too. I, of course, watch over everything.” He says this with a teasing smile, laughing when Yeonjun elbows his side.
“And how did the two of you meet?” Ricky asks, interest piqued. “I only know of Beomgyu’s side of things, and they told me about how they first met Kai and Taehyun, but kept you two a secret.” Ricky knows the five of them are all mated together as a bonded pack. He sees the love they have for each other and can’t help but wish for a love like that.
“Why am I not surprised Beomgyu has told you already? They have always been the chattiest,” Soobin laughs. “As for me and Yeonjun-hyung…”
“It was definitely a love match,” Yeonjun says easily, making an obnoxious kissy face at Soobin that somehow doesn’t detract his good looks.
Soobin rolls his eyes, but his cheeks and ears are quickly turned bright pink. “I was only fifteen when we first met. Before Yeonjun-hyungie, I’d only met Kai before, and I met the other two later on. Let me tell you…”
And Ricky lets himself absorb their happy story, his heart aching once again when he wishes he could have their very same tale. Perhaps, with the right person, it can come true.
On the very same day, Ricky checks his mail immediately upon returning home. He feels inspired by Yeonjun and Soobin’s love story with each other and their other mates, but when he sifts through the letters, there is no beige envelope with the slanted and loopy handwriting he is so familiar with. Only a newsletter and some letters here and there for Zhang Hao, nothing of importance to him.
Selfishly, Ricky becomes frustrated. Gyuvin’s letters to him have always been somewhat of a lifeline, and now more than ever, he needs one.
As he walks up to his door with the mail tucked beneath his arm, he sighs and only hopes for Gyuvin’s letter to come soon.
“Ricky-ge?”
The charcoal in Ricky’s hand stills. He looks up from his sketchbook. “Yes?”
“Are you nervous?” Ollie asks from across the table, poking at his mooncake.
Tomorrow, Ricky will meet Queen Haechan, forced under his scrutinizing gaze. And then there is the matter of only having four days until the debutante ball. Ricky pauses, unsure if he should tell the full truth or lie, so that his little brother could be a bit more reassured for when the time of his debut came. But he knows that honesty is the best policy, and embellishing the situation wouldn’t be a great way to protect anyone he cares about.
“I’m terrified,” he says, putting down the charcoal and the sketchbook before meeting Ollie’s eye and trying to smile. “However, this is a part of life, is it not? Especially for an omega like me. I don’t want to attract attention, but I am the brother of Duchess Zhang, the rose of his own season, and the brother-in-law of Duke Sung, someone who we all know has captured the attention of the ton. No doubt there will be people after me for that status alone.” Ricky lets out a sigh, “And, dear Ollie, no doubt there will be people after you for those reasons when you first debut, too.”
“I see…” Ollie pouts as he makes a face, one that Ricky knows means he wants to say something, but then he shakes his head and leans over the table. “You know, let us forget about that for now. All I really want is for you to find a love match,” Ollie says with all the fierceness of an emperor, taking a hearty bite from his mooncake.
Ricky thinks of kind brown eyes and a boy with a scent of sunshine and mangoes. “I should hope I can find one, too,” he says, trying to will his voice to not crack. “Luckily for us, because we are related to a Duchess, neither money nor title are our greatest concerns. We have an extraordinary privilege. A love match is a real possibility.”
Ollie’s eyes widen, a sparkle forming in them. “So you can focus on love? Or, I mean, we can?”
“Yes, dear brother. We can.”
Ollie’s smile is wide, and for a few seconds, Ricky feels relief flood his senses. Maybe he doesn’t have to be so anxious. Taerae was right, after all: he really doesn’t need to worry about the finances and finding a match that is more practical than anything else. But what happens if a family that’s perfect on paper wants him? Would he be able to turn them down? Should he?
A smaller part of him wonders what would happen should he be crowned the rose of the season. If he somehow gets Queen Haechan’s attention, and he sets up a match for him, he is done for. Although defying the Queen successfully has happened. In the case of Taerae surprising everyone and needing to plead his case of marrying both Jiwoong and Matthew to the Queen, nothing is set in stone. Queen Haechan is kind but also unpredictable, and the last thing Ricky wants is to be on his bad side.
But there’s no point in worrying so much. Ricky tries to shake away these thoughts and focus on Ollie’s laugh instead. Once Ricky is married — hopefully during some other season — he knows he won’t get as many chances to be around his family; he needs to make sure he takes the opportunity to be around them as much as possible. Especially Ollie.
If I could protect you forever, Ricky thinks, ruffling Ollie’s fluffy hair, I would.
By the time Gyuvin makes it back home, it’s well beyond midnight. The first thing he does after stepping out of his carriage and thanking Seojoon for his hard work on such a long journey is stretch, feeling his spine straighten and crack in relief after both sitting and riding for hours — Seojoon has long since given up trying to persuade Gyuvin to not take over the reins, as he has always had a stubborn streak which could rival anyone.
The second thing Gyuvin does is look across the road at the Zhang-Shen household, his eyes traveling upwards to glance at a window. There is no faint glow inside, and the curtains are drawn. He recounts all the times he’s been in this very spot, waving back to a certain boy with a mole beneath his eye and a smile he’s dreamed of.
Seojoon clears his throat. “Do you wish to see Lord Shen, my lord?”
Gyuvin shakes his head slowly. “I do, but I would most prefer if my arrival were to be a surprise for him. He does not yet know I am here. Nobody except for my immediate family, of course.”
Seojoon nods, tipping his hat. “Of course, my lord. I will be sure not to say anything to anyone and keep the rest of the staff quiet. Have a good night.”
Gyuvin dips his chin and bids Seojoon farewell, watching as he holds the reins and goes down the road towards where they keep their horses and carriages. Once Seojoon is but a dot in the distance, Gyuvin goes back to glancing at Ricky’s window.
“Sweet dreams, Ricky-yah,” he says underneath his breath, letting himself stare for a few moments more before turning around and walking up, up, up.
If there is one thing he wants to know, it’s if Ricky has dreamt of him during their time apart. He supposes that soon enough, he might get the chance to ask.
“Gyuvin!” Taerae sings as soon as Gyuvin steps foot through the door, coming over and pinching both of Gyuvin’s cheeks. “My, how you have grown. Where did all of your baby fat go?”
Gyuvin feels his face turn red, and not just from the pinching. “You are so embarrassing,” he whispers, then immediately pulls Taerae in for a hug. Breathing in Taerae’s familiar jasmine-honey scent, the relief Gyuvin feels is immense, and a heavy weight on his shoulders lifts once he feels his brother’s arms tighten around him.
Jiwoong and Matthew hurry over, matching smiles in tow.
“We missed you!” Matthew cheers, grabbing Gyuvin in for a bear hug, his pine-citrus scent filling the air. Gyuvin feels his spine crack a few more times.
“I missed you too, my dearest brother-in-law. A year and then some is far too much time away from here,” Gyuvin says, laying on his formalities as much as possible to watch Matthew, Taerae, and Jiwoong laugh.
Matthew pulls back and ruffles Gyuvin’s hair thoroughly. “I see you have grown taller, but your humor is that of an twenty-one year old’s. Do not think me swayed by your honeyed words.”
“It is not yet April, hyung. I have many months before my twenty-second birthday. I suppose then, my humor might become mature.” Gyuvin plasters on a faux-serious expression.
Matthew and Taerae give him an unimpressed look before laughing.
Jiwoong takes the slight dip in chaos as a chance to to step in, smiling wide at Gyuvin and giving him a hug of his own, engulfing Gyuvin in his lavender-cedarwood scent. “Even when you are nineteen or thirty, you will still be a little baby in our eyes.”
Gyuvin snorts in Jiwoong’s ear. “That is only because you are all so ancient. Especially you, Jiwoong-hyung. I do not know why Taerae-hyung chose a man so wrinkly and decrepit.”
Jiwoong steps away with a smirk as Taerae and Matthew flitter to his side, the three of them an especially mischievous unit hell bent on causing their younger siblings grief as much as possible due to not seeing them as often. Jiwoong looks at his left, then right, then back at Gyuvin. “If I am so wrinkly, how did I manage to land myselves two fine husbands? Your brother has good taste, I believe.”
Taerae laughs before smacking Jiwoong’s arm. “Your tongue is much too gilded, Jiwoong-ah.”
Matthew sticks his own tongue out at Gyuvin. “Stop making fun of our age and questioning your brother’s choices, and start helping us with the meal we prepared for your welcome. It is only fair, considering we all had to wake up before dawn to greet you.”
“Of course, of course. You three are coming with me tomorrow to see mama, Hanbin-hyung, and Yujinnie, right? Yujinnie wrote to me of the fun you have had during my absence. I also have gifts I wish to give all of you at once, tomorrow.”
“We have had some fun together, but the family gatherings are not the same without you,” Taerae smiles. Gyuvin reaches forward to squeeze Taerae’s arm in thanks.
“Gifts?” Matthew’s eyes light up. “Out of Hanbin, Yujin, and you, you might be the most generous brother.”
Gyuvin laughs. “Who is the sweet talker now?”
“We will leave tomorrow after lunch. We would not miss it,” Jiwoong says easily, looking at everyone with fondness in his eyes.
Gyuvin nods, then takes off his shoes and places his coat on the stand beside the door — smiling once he sees three other coats hanging off of it. He walks further inside and lets himself be poked and prodded at by his three older brothers, feeling like he truly is home.
(But, of course, there is still someone he knows he has yet to see. Needs to see.)
Ricky is sitting on his favorite bench at the park, one which oversees the lake right at its center. He has a small pouch of sesame seeds, and he knows from the ducks gathered near him that he’s been throwing out a good amount of handfuls.
He continues feeding them, laughing when a particularly feisty duck keeps trying to fend off his hungry brethren, when he’s hit with the scent of fresh mangoes and morning sunshine.
This is when he knows he’s dreaming.
“Ricky-yah,” calls a soft voice, teasing and singsongy.
Ricky turns and smiles at the person next to him on the bench, pretending it does not eat away at him. He’ll let himself indulge in his dreams. “Gyuvin-ah, Kim Gyuvin-ah. Do you want some seeds?”
“Of course I do!” Gyuvin laughs and outstretches his hand. Ricky carefully pours half the contents of his pouch into his open palm, smiling wider when Gyuvin says it tickles.
Ricky watches as Gyuvin spreads out the seeds in front of them, cooing when one duck isn’t as fast as the others and making sure to throw out a bit more so it can have its share. It is typical of him, so typical, and Ricky hates his dream for being so realistic.
“I miss you so much,” Ricky says, breathing in the air and wishing he could smell mango forever.
Gyuvin’s laugh is honey to his ears, his eyes sparkling and crinkled at the corners as he faces Ricky properly. “Miss me?”
Ricky nods. “You write about how much you miss me, about how you saw a cat on the street that reminded me of you, or how the strawberries in Japan taste, or how you want homemade Korean food, or how you wish I could be with you to witness whatever funny or beautiful thing you see. Do you not know how much it hurts? Do you yearn?”
Gyuvin throws the rest of the seeds in his hand before reaching for Ricky’s face. “Ahh, my loveliest Ricky.” He says something, but the words are lost to Ricky’s ears, and all Ricky can do is stare at Gyuvin’s lips. The dream morphs into something else, then something else, until it all swirls into darkness, and Ricky is left with a dreamless sleep.
When he wakes up, he swears he still smells mangoes. A single tear falls from his eye and lands onto his pillow.
Ricky prepares a new letter to send later.
Gyuvin,
I hope you’re doing well.
Lately I’ve been thinking about how we first met. Your family was so kind to ours after we moved to Seoul. I will forever remember how you so easily gave me food when I mentioned being hungry.
I think you helped save me. Not from anything particularly dangerous or bad. But without you, I would never feel like I belong here.
He keeps writing until the letter becomes less of a letter and more of a diary entry. Ricky sighs and rolls it up, placing it to the side of his desk for him to review later.
“Are you excited for your debutante presentation?” Ollie asks on the day of, at breakfast. He’s ever so curious and eager.
Ricky tries to swallow down the congee in his mouth, lest he throw it up everywhere out of a mix of disgust and nerves. “Somewhat,” he says, going for an answer that’s not entirely a lie.
“It must be scary,” Ollie says, glancing at Zhang Hao. “At least you’ll have Hao-ge with you when you walk up to meet the Queen. Hanbin-hyung and I shall be on the sidelines, cheering you on.”
Ricky nods, because that is a small comfort.
“Ge, you said Queen Haechan was really nice.”
Zhang Hao nods. “He is. But he is still the Queen, and we must not forget that, no matter how kind he may be.”
Ricky taps on the table with his chopsticks, unsure of how to respond.
Ollie simply smiles as he serves himself another spoonful of mapo tofu. “I know he is making great strides in omega rights. That certainly is wonderful.”
Ricky feels both of his brothers’ gazes on him. “Right,” he says, picking up his glass of water to avoid speaking more.
He isn’t fooling anyone, he knows.
Right before they leave the door to travel to Queen Haechan’s primary palace, Ollie gives Ricky a piece of sour candy and a hug. Ricky wants so badly to spin around, run inside, and lock himself in his bedroom.
“I am confident the Queen will take notice of you,” Ollie says with a wry smirk, “even if it is not what you want. Take this to eat on the road there.”
Ricky feels itchy in the strict, formal court dress. His all-white, floor-length evening skirt and pants, just-too-tight corset, long white opera gloves, and feathered headpiece all make his skin crawl. His late mother’s fan is in his hand, which is offering him a little reprieve. But at the sight of his younger brother’s faith and humor, he smiles and forgets it all for just a moment. “Thank you, Ollie. I appreciate it.”
Zhang Hao smiles at them both. “Are we ready?”
Ricky nods, feeling the feathers on his head bounce with the motion. How ridiculous.
Ollie reaches over and opens their front door, revealing Hanbin stepping out of the carriage. What great timing.
“Good morning everyone!” Hanbin waves at them with a whisker-dimpled smile, holding the carriage door open with the other hand.
Ricky watches as Zhang Hao’s face completely lights up.
“Good morning to you,” Zhang Hao says, walking down their doorsteps and into Hanbin’s open arms. Ricky looks away when they kiss, partially because ew, and also because the sight makes something in his stomach twist.
“Come on now, you two,” Hanbin says after a moment, “We really must not be late. Do not let our driver wait, much less the Queen himself.”
Ricky unwraps the candy and pops it into his mouth, giving Ollie a wink before turning around to face his fate. He hands Ollie the wrapper, who shoves it deep into his pocket. This manages to make Ricky laugh for the first time in at least twelve hours.
The strawberry flavor and the action of letting the candy dissolve on his tongue serves to sooth him as he, Ollie, Zhang Hao, and Hanbin get into the carriage, the door closing and the horses galloping their way down the path. The world around them moves much too quickly for Ricky to fully comprehend. In more ways than one.
He can’t believe that in just a couple of hours, he will have officially made his debut.
Gyuvin, he thinks, staring out the window and fidgeting with his gloves, if only you were here.
“I feel like a sardine,” Ricky whispers in Mandarin to Zhang Hao once they’re in the middle of the long line to the throne room, unable to keep himself from making comments for any longer.
“It is rather sweaty,” Zhang Hao whispers back.
Ricky decides to put his handheld fan to use by furiously fanning at himself and Zhang Hao, rather than just gripping onto it and fidgeting with its spine. He knows that at the end of the day, he still cannot mess this up. If he were to purposefully sabotage his introduction to Queen Haechan so as to not catch any positive attention, it would reflect badly on Zhang Hao and Hanbin as well.
“Are you feeling the pressure?” Zhang Hao asks, as if reading Ricky’s mind.
Ricky nods, stepping forward as the rest of the line makes a step forward. There are only five debutantes in front of him now.
“Just be yourself, Quanrui.” Zhang Hao rests his hand lightly on Ricky’s elbow. “It will all be over in a matter of moments. Do not fear.”
Ricky tries to smile. “I remember when we came back home after your presentation, and you were so nervous and excited to be named rose of the season, you threw up your lunch.”
“Exactly,” Zhang Hao says with a murmured laugh. “Do not feel as though you need to be perfect, do not lock your emotions and personality away. We will simply go up to the Queen, curtsy, and afterwards, you can throw up or yell as much as you would like. We would not blame you.”
Ricky reaches for Zhang Hao’s arm and gives it a light squeeze. He hates all of this, but he’s glad that he’s not alone. “Thank you. For everything.”
“Of course,” Zhang Hao smiles, soft, and Ricky momentarily feels all the gravity in his chest shift.
The gravity is back in full force now.
“Omega Shen Quanrui,” the announcer says with a polished Korean accent, the Mandarin slightly tilted in the corners, “presented by his brother, the Right Honorable, the Duchess Zhang Hao of Sung Estate.”
“It’s time,” Zhang Hao says in a quiet breath, and the doors before them open.
A slight flow of air hits Ricky in the face. He blinks and spots Queen Haechan already looking back at him from his place on the golden throne, looking every bit as regal as Ricky remembers from the few times he’s managed to encounter him. Queen Haechan has chocolate brown hair that falls just past his chin in styled waves, his dark eyes revealing nothing other than neutral observation, his mouth a simple rouge line. His clothes are no doubt made of quality fabric, a coat that flares at the end with feathered trim and golden embroidery truly the very centerpiece of the room, even with golden furniture and hundreds of people surrounding the path.
Taking a deep breath, Ricky steps forward on the carpet, holding eye contact with the Queen as he paints what he hopes is a polite smile on his face, instead of an expression which reflects whatever he truly feels. He’s beyond grateful for Zhang Hao’s presence at his side, and the knowledge that Ollie and Hanbin are watching him from somewhere in the crowd.
Just walk, he tells himself, one foot in front of the other.
Once he and Zhang Hao are just the right distance away from the Queen, he bends his body into the royal curtsy, and stares at the carpeted steps.
He breathes. In, out.
He stares.
Then he hears movement. That feathered trim appears in Ricky’s eyesight, and Ricky feels a bead of sweat travel from the back of his neck, all the way around and down his chest.
“Rise, my dear.”
Ricky rises.
Haechan smiles, small but genuine as he says, “Not bad.” His eyes are kind as they bore into Ricky’s, crinkled from his smile. “What a unique hair color, as well.”
Ricky smiles back, though he feels his lips wavering from the tremendous effort. He’s so nervous he really could throw up right now.
Haechan lets his gaze linger for half a beat before turning back around and going up the steps to his throne.
Ricky feels his heart sink.
The last time Queen Haechan recognized a debutante like this, they were named the rose.
“So?” Ollie asks as they get back into the carriage. “How was it?”
Ricky thinks of dark eyes and golden embroidery. He looks at Zhang Hao, then Hanbin, then Ollie. “He said, ‘Rise, my dear,’ and then he looked at my face and said, ‘Not bad.’ And he called my hair color unique.”
“Woah,” Ollie laughs. “That’s so good! I could not hear what the Queen was saying because me and Hanbin were standing a bit too far away, but I really did not expect him to make such a comment.”
“Me neither,” Ricky says, playing with a strand of hair by his ear.
“Most impressive,” Hanbin says, patting Ricky’s knee in comfort. “I recall the Queen not stepping down from his throne for any other debutante.”
“I know something similar happened during Hao-ge’s debut,” Ricky says, trying to change the topic a little. He doesn’t want to think about the implications of today any longer.
“Ah, yes,” Zhang Hao says with a nod, ever so graciously allowing the subject to change. “The Queen tilted my head upwards with his hand. His gloves were very soft, as I believe I have mentioned before.”
“I wonder how expensive they are,” Ollie says with a furrowed brow.
Fuck, Ricky thinks, gripping his fan so hard, his knuckles turn white. Maybe he should’ve left his own gloves on.
He glances at Zhang Hao again. The weight and poise on his brother’s shoulders.
Could I really be the rose of the season? Like you were?
Ricky swallows around a rock in his throat, wishing the corset he had on could turn into ashes. Why is Gyuvin not home? Why does Ricky feel like a mouse in a corner? Is he overthinking this?
Follow your heart, comes to Ricky’s mind, a phrase everyone close to him has said.
The trees by the window pass by in blurs of emerald and various floral shades. It’s springtime, after all, and as Ricky watches the scenery go by, the laughter of his family surrounding him, he thinks maybe it won’t be so bad. As long as he remembers what he truly wants.