GO-GETTER! | gyuricky

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Ricky is sure that Gyuvin had the mind to drink the hangover cure when he woke up, but he could never be too sure. That's why he decided to wake up early in the morning to make him some hangover soup—he'd borrowed the decade-old recipe from Hao, whose grandmother owned a soup shop in China.

Though he was not hungover, he wanted to taste the soup very badly. He was seriously considering downing five bottles of vodka just to get the same warm feeling that he imagined the soup would give off.

Anyhow, other than thoughts of the soup, Ricky's mind was clouded with memories of what happened last night between him and Gyuvin. He probably stared at himself (particularly at his lips) for an extremely long time after he got home from the party, trying desperately to figure out what Gyuvin's motives were.

They say drunk words are sober thoughts, but what's the analysis of drunk actions? That kiss could've meant anything, and it irked Ricky that he didn't have the heart to fess up to Gyuvin and ask what it meant.

He hoped that as the guy sat over the soup and slowly recovered from his definite hangover, they'd be able to talk a bit. Ricky did hope that he forgot everything that happened the night prior, but some part of him wished that he remembered at least something too. He needed solidarity—some confirmation of both his and Gyuvin's true feelings.

"Ah, shit," he hissed as some of the soup burned his hand accidentally. He was getting lost in thought, as one does when their best friend kisses them out of the blue.

With a shake of his head, Ricky put a generous amount of the soup into a bowl and placed it on the island counter. The real task would be waking Gyuvin up, though, because the guy was either an extremely light sleeper or a death-mime.

To his surprise, Ricky looked up and was face-to-face with a very tired-looking Gyuvin. He assumed that the guy had gotten a pretty rough night of sleep and didn't bother him further, choosing to wait for him to indulge in the soup. He went to the sink to start washing some of the dishes he'd used to make the soup.

"No 'good morning'?" Gyuvin questioned. Ricky stopped scrubbing the dish he was currently washing.

"Good morning," he spoke softly, hoping Gyuvin didn't take it to heart. He heard the younger male snort and continued working, hoping that it was a snort of delight as much as it could be one of disbelief.

After a couple of minutes of silence and the exchange of bated breaths, Ricky set down the last dish on the rack and dried his hands with a paper towel. Not knowing what move to make next, he turned and leaned on the counter, reaching for his phone before he was interrupted by Gyuvin's expected inquiry.

"I take it the party was fun. You left me to go back," the Bambi speculated, stirring the soup with his spoon aimlessly. Ricky's head snapped up at his assumption.

"What? That's not what happened," he responded sternly, looking at Gyuvin with furrowed brows.

"It is, though." Gyuvin dropped his spoon, letting the clink resonate as it bounced off the fine china. He crossed his arms on the counter, snuggling into his hoodie. "You brought me home and left me alone."

"Is that how you take it?"

"That's not just how I take it, that's what happened." Gyuvin corrected the blonde, staring at the counter as he couldn't find it in him to look the guy in the eye. "What reason would you have to leave me drunk anyway?" he chuckled dryly.

Ricky bit back what he wanted to say. Whether it was for better or for worse, he refused to be the first to test the waters. He knew that Gyuvin would react in some dramatic way and he didn't need to bombard him with such information so early in the day.