Chapter 2

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"Please, Hao?"

"No."

"But Hao—"

"No."

"Please, Haohao? Hao-ge? Gege?"

"Oh, fuck no. Absolutely not."

Hao whips around, so fast that Ricky ends up barging right into him in the middle of the sidewalk. After recovering, Ricky doesn't move away, instead looking right up into Hao's eyes and pouting.

Hao deadpans him a stare. "Don't even try. I'm not Gyuvin."

Immediately, Ricky's face relaxes, and he takes a step back. "But this was your idea! Besides, who else would I fake-date?"

"Gyuvin," says Hao immediately.

Ricky's brows furrow atop his forehead. "Qubing? Why would I fake-date Qubing?"

"You think he won't agree?" Hao snaps, taking a step forward and looking down at Ricky. Ricky blinks, confusion painted into his delicate features. "I'll tell you right now he will agree in a heartbeat. You won't even have to argue with him to get what you want, like you have to do with me."

"So you're saying you will end up agreeing, basically," says Ricky.

Hao clicks his tongue and reaches out to flick Ricky's nose. "Is that the only thing you got from all of that? Really?"

"Hmm," says Ricky. He jumps closer and grabs onto Hao's shoulders, whirling him around and pushing him to walk straight ahead. "Why don't we eat out for dinner today? My treat. You can order anything you want, no budget."

And. Well.

"Fine," says Hao. "Only if we go to that new noodle place down the street."

So they go to the new noodle place down the street, and Hao orders four appetizers and three bowls of lo mein. Ricky orders a bowl for himself, but his is considerably smaller and he eats much more slowly. Hao doesn't pay much mind to him, slurping away and licking his chopsticks clean after every bite.

"What if," Ricky starts after swallowing a mouthful of fried egg, "I treat you to dinner once a week."

Hao glances up at him. "Continue."

Ricky purses his lips, eyes narrowing. "Twice a week."

"Three times and you have a deal."

"Three times with a budget on two of them."

"One."

Ricky slumps over the table, and Hao knows he's won.

"After all," he says matter-of-factly, pointing his red-stained chopsticks up at Ricky's face, "this isn't just any typical favor you're asking of me. You're asking me to fake-date you. In front of Gyuvin."

"What's wrong with Qubing?" Ricky asks, twisting his lips into a frown.

Everything, Hao thinks. Everything is wrong with Qubing. He almost wants to scoff, but he stops himself. "Nothing. Nothing is wrong with Qubing. Qubing is the most perfect human being on the planet. Whatever."

"Oh," says Ricky, "speaking of Qubing, you can't tell him."

A pause. "Excuse me?"

"I'm serious!" says Ricky. He leans over the table, eyes glinting under the dim lighting of the restaurant. "You can't tell him."

"And why the hell not?"

"Because," says Ricky, and then he stops. His face does a...thing. A weird thing. It twists and scrunches up and his ears burn red. Hao watches, completely unamused, and waits. "Okay. Well. I'm going to tell you a secret."

"Go on."

"I'm trying," says Ricky. He takes a breath. And then another. And then another. "Um. So like. It's like this, um—"

"Spit it out, Ricky."

"I think I like Qubing," Ricky blurts out. "Like. Like as more than a friend. Like that kind of like."

Hao stares at him.

"You can't tell anyone!" Ricky quickly goes on. He throws his hands in front of his chest and rapidly shakes them. "And you absolutely cannot tell Qubing! I know that the two of you are really close, but I'm begging you, Hao, Hao-ge, Gege—"

"Hold on," says Hao, raising his hand, palm faced toward Ricky. "I'm confused. You said you were going to tell me a secret. What's the secret?"

Ricky blinks. "What? I—"

"First of all," says Hao, voice not wavering in the slightest, "I don't know what gave you the impression that Gyuvin and I are close, but we're not." He closes his eyes and heaves a sigh, wondering belatedly why they didn't bother ordering any alcohol. "Secondly, stop calling me those names."

Ricky frowns. "But I thought they were cute."

"Thirdly," says Hao, ignoring this, "I think it's really funny how you think I didn't know that you're in love with Gyuvin."

Ricky's cheeks burn the color of blood. "In love with—I'm not—Hao—"

"Also," says Hao, "I still don't get it. How does this have anything to do with us not telling Gyuvin?"

"Can you please at least pretend like you're surprised," Ricky groans, burying his flushed face into his hands and rapidly shaking his head. "This is humiliating for me. Do you realize how hard it was for me to tell you that?"

"Was it?" Hao drawls. "That's cute. Why can't we tell Gyuvin?"

"Because I like him!" Ricky exclaims. "And he doesn't. Like me. Like that."

Oh fucking hell.

"I need a drink," Hao mutters. "Stop talking. You're not allowed to say anything more on this subject till I get a drink. You're paying, right? Excellent. I'm getting two. No, don't look at me like that. You don't get one. The last time you got drunk I ended up with your puke all over my jeans."

After Hao successfully gets his drinks, he swirls the tip of his finger over the rim of one of the glasses and gestures for Ricky to continue.

Ricky breaks his longing stare-off with the beer and says, "As I was saying, Qubing doesn't have romantic feelings for me. All of this can be, um, practice."

"Practice," Hao repeats. "You know, this is why I told you to just fake-date Gyuvin. You're in love with him. Give yourself a taste of the forbidden fruit."

"A taste of the— no," says Ricky. "I don't think that euphemism works in this particular context."

"That's a big word. Proud of you."

"Thank you," says Ricky. "But, anyways, my point is that you can't tell Qubing about this. Who knows what he'll say if he finds out?"

Well, it doesn't really matter to Hao whether or not Gyuvin finds out. He, after all, loses in both cases. If Gyuvin doesn't know, Hao will die on an account of dating Ricky. If Gyuvin does know, Hao will still die on an account of dating Ricky. Gyuvin will murder him either way, so. It doesn't really matter.

"Whatever," he says, watching as Ricky's face sparks with a mixture of joy and relief. "Whatever. Fine. I won't tell your Qubing. Promise."

And then Hao grabs his drink and chugs it in one go. Fucking hell.

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