Archive of Our Own

Euijoo should have known that moving into an old, slightly decrepit rooftop apartment in the back streets of Hyehwa could have led him to moving in with a ghost, but he really didn't think about it. It's rare enough after all, and he's lived in plenty of older places while growing up that weren't haunted, so he thought he was safe. It didn't even cross his mind.

Which is why, of course, he moves in with a ghost.

He doesn’t notice at first. The apartment is decent enough, functional, small but it has some nice outdoors space, and it’s private. He has a view, if only because the apartment building is at the top of a steep hill, and the neighborhood is mostly quiet. It’s a good deal, overall, and Euijoo is too busy basking in having his own space for the first time in his life to notice that he is not, in fact, alone at all.

Then there’s the doors. They creak open when Euijoo is sure he’s closed them, when there’s no windows open and no movement in the rest of the apartment. They just move by themselves, usually too slow to be anything but deliberate. That’s when Euijoo starts to take notice, because never living with a ghost before doesn’t mean he isn’t well aware of them and what they like to do.

But he doesn’t say anything until the footsteps.

“Okay, I’ve not said anything until now, but can we please not track dirt all over the apartment for no reason? Where do you even get it, are you trampling through my tomato plants?” Euijoo asks the living-room at large, mop in hand. He wouldn’t mind the footsteps if they were just noise, or even just water. But the dirt is frustrating, because it’s not like his roommate is cleaning up after themselves.

“You don’t have tomato plants,” comes the response a moment later. It’s never impossible that ghosts will find ways to speak, but it still makes Euijoo jump, especially because his ghost turns on the radio to form the sentence, crackly static in between stilted words, all of them using a different voice.

“Of course I’d find myself haunted by a smartass,” Euijoo grumbles back, but there’s a faint smile on his lips. “Can we just keep the dirt to a minimum, please? Also, what’s your name? I’m Euijoo.”

The radio crackles to life once more. Euijoo puts the mop away while he waits.

“I’m Nico.”

;;;;;

There was this ghost that lived in Euijoo’s grandma’s neighbour’s house. It was a mischievous one, the kind that’d sound like children laughing in the breeze and that’d turn on the tv in the middle of the night just for fun. Euijoo liked it, because it liked to make the wind pick up around him when he was playing in the yard, and it uncovered old toys for him.

Then there was the one that lived in the staircase of the goshiwon Euijoo lived in when he was in college. She actually took shape, sometimes, in the reflection of the windows between floors. She was pretty, but she looked sad. Euijoo installed a windchime on the landing between the 3rd and 4th floors of the building, and she’d make it twinkle gently whenever she saw him.

Somehow, Euijoo often found himself meeting ghosts. All kinds, but generally they've been nice to him. It's like he attracts them, like he's broadcasting safe vibes and they feel like they can just exist around him without being judged, or banished.

He thinks that’s why he’s never been scared of them. He was introduced to a real one early on in life, learned quickly that they were harmless. That sometimes they were just lonely. That they just wanted a friend.

;;;;;

Some ghosts make for bad roommates; the ones that make for great movies and stories, Euijoo thinks. The angry ones, or the ones with a little too much of a tether to the human world. They're a little too dangerous for a normal, day to day life, and Euijoo is glad that Nico isn't like that.

He's not trying to constantly possess Euijoo, or chase him out of their shared space. He just… Wants to be acknowledged. On his own terms, that is.
The ghost can be extremely elusive if he feels like it, reminding Euijoo of a cat. Sometimes it's like he wants to be where Euijoo is but left alone at the same time. Sometimes he has his own version of the zoomies, knocking over cups and using Euijoo's laptop to laugh and tease Euijoo.

After the radio thing, Euijoo quickly got Nico to use sounds coming from YouTube and tiktok instead. Better quality, easier to understand. They're having full on conversations after a few weeks. Like real roommates.

Euijoo sometimes even forgets that Nico doesn't have a body.

;;;;;

“We should have ground rules.”

“Like what?” Nico asks, the voice he's picked for the moment sounding old and weathered. It makes Euijoo chuckle.

“Like you can't watch me when I'm in the bathroom,” he states. “You can't open doors in the middle of the night. And you have to stop tracking dirt or water into the apartment.”

“I promise I'll never creep on you, Euijoo-yah. Can I have some rules too?”

Euijoo snaps on his wash dishing gloves, nodding. “Yeah, of course. Technically we're roommates, so it's only fair.”

“Alright. You have to air out the apartment at least once a week. And like, if you bring someone over, can you let me know?”

“How am I supposed to do that? Do you have a kkt you still have access to or something?”

“No, it got closed a few months ago. I was thinking you could use a private server in discord, I could see that as long as it's open on your laptop. Or I guess you could open a new kkt for me?”

Euijoo shrugs as he keeps washing the dishes, the water noise making him speak louder. “Yeah, either works. Who would have thought that the Internet would be so useful for ghosts too?”

“I have no idea how they did it before computers. It makes things so much easier to communicate.”

“I think before, they just haunted places.”

“Ugh, I'd hate that. I'm an extrovert, you know?”

Euijoo laughs. “Yeah, would never have guessed that one, Nico.”

;;;;;

“Not yet,” Nico says as Euijoo starts to try and slide his spatula under the jeon bubbling in the pan. Euijoo frowns, insisting.

“What do you mean not yet!”

“Let it cook a tiny bit more,” Nico continues. Lately he's found about vocaloid libraries on the Internet, giving him a new and improved range of tones and emotions. “Now, now you can flip it!”

Euijoo does. The pancake sticks a bit, but it's perfectly cooked on the underside and he manages to flip it almost perfectly. He crows in triumph, Nico laughing from the smart home device Euijoo installed for this exact purpose.

“I wish I could taste it,” Nico says softly after they've quietened down, and Euijoo knows all of his feelings can't be conveyed through their system, but he feels like he can hear the wistful tone.

“Me too,” Euijoo replies, smiling sadly at the room at large. There's nothing to be done for it, apart from letting Nico possess him, which they both know is too much of a slippery slope.

“Enjoy it for the both of us, Euijoo-yah,” Nico says with a happier tone. Euijoo feels a gentle gust of hair through his hair, making Euijoo's heart feel warm.

;;;;;

Euijoo has another roommate that doesn't pay rent, and this one costs him a little more, in churus and kibble, because Euijoo is not going to let a cat starve on his roof. The cat is a calico, with cute squinty eyes and a very friendly nature. Euijoo meets him sunbathing on the low table he has set outside, the cat's tail flicking from time to time as he asks in the sunshine.

Euijoo coos at the cat, but leaves him be.

;;;;;

“I wish you were real,” Euijoo whispers to the empty room, horizontal in bed and feeling like the air around him is ten degrees colder than it should be for spring. It’s not like Nico isn’t real, but he’s dead. Stuck in a place between worlds and unable to get away. Maybe he’s like these ghosts in the movies, the ones that have so much will and strength, they get to come back to life. Not that Euijoo doesn’t know that it’s almost impossible.

But Nico hasn't made himself known for days.

The apartment isn't very big, barely more than a studio, so maybe Nico gets bored in between these cramped walls. Maybe he can haunt other places, that he likes better. Euijoo sighs, rolling over to his back and running a hand over his face.

It's silly, to miss a ghost.

;;;;;

Nico comes back. And of course, he comes back in the most obnoxious way possible, scaring the living shit out of Euijoo when he wipes the bathroom mirror after a shower and Nico appears, blurry and pale, in the reflection, just behind Euijoo.

Euijoo jumps a foot in the air, his towel falling to the floor in a heap as Nico's electronic laughter resonates in the room. Euijoo scrambles for his towel, wrapping it around his hips before frowning at the mirror. Nico is grinning, looking just a little hazy, but holding on well enough that Euijoo can make up most of his features for the first time.

“You've been gone a while,” he says softly, fingers clamped around the sink. He can't look away from Nico; it's the first time that he's made himself appear quite so obviously, usually just a flash of a face in a window, or in the back of a spoon.

He's beautiful. Whichever way he passed, he doesn't retain any trace of it, looking youthful and bright eyed when he looks back at Euijoo. Sharp features, pouty lips, tousled dark hair that falls messily over his forehead. They look about the same age.

“I had some things to look after,” Nico says, sounding apologetic. “My sister needed me.”

“Ah,” Euijoo replies, because what can he say to that. He can't blame Nico for wanting to be with his family in whatever way he can. He wonders why he's not haunting his family home.

“She got married,” Nico continues, his expression turning wistful. His features blur a little, before he reaches up, ghostly hand hovering above Euijoo's head. “But I missed you.”

Euijoo smiles, his own hand moving towards Nico's. His fingers pass through Nico's, the cold sensation making his stomach churn with how much he wishes he could touch warm skin instead.

“Yeah. I missed you too.”

;;;;;

Nico can be a brat sometimes. Euijoo can give back just as bad. They argue about anything and everything they can argue about, from the way Euijoo does the dishes to whether or not it’s healthy to have the fan on at night. They fight about Euijoo’s fashion, about the state of the world, about the dramas they watch together. Nico is full of opinions and he’s never afraid to speak them out loud, even when Euijoo has most definitely not asked, and Euijoo is stubborn to a fault.

It’s a game they play. They rile each other up, until silence becomes the thing that answers them, when one of them wins the argument. But they always meet each other again in the middle. They’re very different; Nico can’t seem to be able to wrap his head around the parts of Euijoo that are harsher, stricter with himself, demanding more of himself at all times. He’s free-spirited in ways that Euijoo finds admirable, wondering about all the things Nico must have done and tried when he was alive, just because he wasn’t afraid to.

Having Nico around makes Euijoo want to be braver. He signs up for evening Japanese classes and shares his progress with Nico once he starts. Nico teaches him random Mandarin whenever he’s in the mood. Euijoo corrects his Korean, always kind and patient with it.

It takes no time at all for Nico to carve himself a space in Euijoo’s life and in his heart, and that’s the scariest part of it all.

;;;;;

“I know it might be inappropriate to ask, but… Would you tell me how you passed?” Euijoo asks one evening. Nico feels restless in the air around Euijoo, fluttering the curtains and making the doors rattle on their hinges. But the question makes the constant shifting stop.

“Car crash,” Nico replies after a little while. “I was in a cab. It was a drunk driver.”

Euijoo didn’t know Nico when he was alive, and giving him condolences now feels empty, and yet there’s nothing else he can think of saying, too many questions under the layer of righteous fury that takes over as soon as Nico says the words. Euijoo’s not one to wish harm on people, but he hopes this drunk driver is in a worse shape than Nico is.

“I’m sorry,” he ends up saying out loud, even though it rings hollow. “How old were you?”

“23,” Nico says in English, using the ‘twenty’ from Taylor Swift’s 22. The 3 sounds robotic afterwards, and it would sound comical if it wasn’t so fucking tragic that he died so young. Euijoo inhales through his nose, sounding like a sniffle, and Nico chuckles. “Hey, don’t cry for me.”

“‘M not,” Euijoo replies. He easily could. “It’s just not fair.”

He runs his sleeve under his nose, straightening up as he looks at nothing in particular around the room. “But you know that already. Sorry, I’m being all soggy about this like I’m the one that should be comforted.”

Nico snorts. Not for the first time, Euijoo wishes he could hear his real voice. “Did you just call yourself soggy?”

“Yeah, like. Floppy and a bit pathetic and falling apart. Like soggy bread.”

There’s silence for a little while, Euijoo pouting at nothing in particular, his gaze fixed on a stack of books he really needs to sort through and put away. Then there’s laughter, twinkling and bright, playing like so many music notes in the air. It’s like seeing soap bubbles reflect rainbows through the room.

“Ah, Byun Euijoo, you’re cute. I wish we’d met when I was alive.”

Euijoo echoes the sentiment.

;;;;;

It's not like Euijoo doesn't have any friends. He was actually pretty popular in high school and in college, and he's kept in touch with a number of people. But adult life is lonely, and Euijoo isn’t exactly the best at reaching out first, so it’s something he’s used to.

So it’s a surprise to see Fuma on his doorstep. They used to be close, but growing up is what it is; you drift apart. Fuma and Yudai started dating and moved out to Incheon, and while it’s not far in the grand scheme–not nearly as far as Japan, where Yuma moved back to–it’s enough that they don’t see each other in person that often.

“Oh, hyung! What are you doing here?” Euijoo asks as he opens the door to Fuma and immediately pulling it open wider to let him in. “You didn’t call.”

Fuma grins, stepping in to pull Euijoo into a quick hug. The two of them have never been into the kind of skinship Yudai loves, but it’s been a while, and Euijoo leans into the hug easily. It’s good to see him. It's good to feel a real human, no matter how guilty Euijoo feels about thinking that.

“I had a work meeting in town, and it ended early so I thought I’d stop by. Hope I’m not getting in the way!”

“No, not at all,” Euijoo replies with a smile of his own. “It’s lucky actually, it’s the winter break for another week, so I’ve been at home just doing some planning.”

Euijoo teaches 4 to 6 years old kids at the local kindergarten. It’s only a fifteen minute walk from home, even if he does have a hill at each end of it, and it’s the most fulfilling job he’s ever thought he could do. He molds minds and helps children build dreams and grow, little by little. It makes him feel alive, even if there are more days than not where he comes home with snot, vomit, glue, or paint in his hair.

“How are the kids?”

“Wild as ever. How's Yudai-hyung?”

Fuma chuckles. “Just the same. He's started taking Taekwondo classes, that's his latest thing. He asked me to relay that you need to come for dinner very soon.”

Euijoo takes out two beers from the fridge, handing Fuma one. The cold breeze of Nico passing through ruffles through Euijoo's hair, making him smile. Fuma shivers. He remembers when Fuma and Yudai lived right next door to a cemetery, in the first apartment they moved in together. Fuma has to be used to this.

“Oh,” he looks around, raising an eyebrow. “Was that–?”

Euijoo laughs gently and nods. “Yeah. You know how I seem to attract them, but I think he was here first. We're friendly.”

Music starts playing from his laptop. It's in English and it sounds old-timey, so Euijoo doesn't recognise it, but he knows it's Nico saying hello. Fuma smiles.

“He's a romantic,” he says, and there is no reason for Euijoo's ears to turn red, but they do anyway.

“He's a menace, is what he is. With too much time on his hands.”

The song abruptly switches, to the Jaws song, the one when the shark approaches. It makes Fuma laugh, even if Euijoo bunches a little. He's not surprised to feel a wash of cold over him again. And yet he smiles anyway.

“Yudai will be glad to know you've made a friend,” Fuma says softly, clapping Euijoo on the shoulder. “I am too.”

Some people are judgmental. How can you be friends with a ghost, with someone with no body or voice? Someone who isn't even real? But ghosts, especially the ones like Nico, are still self-aware, are still fully in control of their mind, they still have will and goals. Ghosts have personalities and wishes and pet peeves and desires. There's no reason they couldn't be considered real.

Nico is more real than many of the breathing, living humans that Euijoo has to deal with on a daily basis.

“Will you stay for dinner, hyung?”

Fuma tips his bottle towards Euijoo. “Would be my pleasure.”

;;;;;

On a particularly sunny Sunday afternoon, the cat that likes to sleep on Euijoo’s outdoor table jumps in through the window, and steps right up to Euijoo, walking all over his Japanese homework.

“It's me,” Nico says through the laptop's speakers, as the cat curls up on Euijoo's lap.

“It's you?“

The cat turns his gaze onto Euijoo, rubbing his face against Euijoo's arm. It almost looks like he's smiling, eyes closing slowly. A show of trust from cats.

“The cat. He's letting me in for a bit. His name is Chubs, by the way.”

Euijoo blinks, eyes meeting the cat's on his lap. Of course, ghosts can possess people and animals, this isn't news to Euijoo, but he's surprised that Nico went through the effort. As far as Euijoo knows, possession is the most draining power a ghost can exercise, and many of them are unable to do it at all. The fact that Nico would be that kind of powerful makes Euijoo proud, for some reason.

“Why?”

“Oh, I think he had one of these big kitten bellies when he was tiny so his owners called him that,” Nico replies as he starts making biscuits in Euijoo's bare thigh, where his shorts have ridden up. Euijoo feels his ears warm.

“No, I mean why are you possessing the cat?” he asks, and Nico tilts Chubs’ head to look at him.

“I wanted to be close to you,” he says, paws still kneading. It's so honest it freezes Euijoo in place, tensing without meaning to. He looks into the cat's eyes, which are a deep brown instead of their usual gold. Nico's eye colour.

The feeling that rushes through Euijoo's chest cannot be described. To have Nico do this just to be near him in a more tangible way is a gift so precious and so fleeting it brings tears to his eyes.

“Oh, Nico,” he murmurs, finally managing to lift a hand and bringing it towards the top of Chubsnico's head. His fingers are trembling when he grazes the fur between Chubsnico's ears. It's so soft. “I think that might be the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me.”

It’s not an easy thing to admit for Euijoo, who keeps things close to his chest and knows it. But Nico has been nothing but open and honest and earnest with him from the moment they met, chipping away at Euijoo’s poorly built walls little by little. Euijoo might never understand why, why him, why now, why Nico picked this apartment and this boy, but he is so thankful, and Nico deserves to know.

“I’m so glad we’ve met,” Euijoo says, still lightly petting between Chubsnico’s ears.

Chubsnico gets that expression on his face that looks like he's smiling again, and he shifts to stand on his back paws, front paws against Euijoo's shoulder. He leans in, rubbing their cheeks together as he purrs softly. Euijoo tentatively wraps his hands around Chubsnico's little body, feeling the rumble.

“I don't know how long he'll let me stay,” Nico says softly. “But he's a good kitty.”

“You're a good ghost,” Euijoo replies, petting down along Chubsnico's spine, feeling the knots underneath his fingers. Wishing they were bigger, a human's. Wishing he could hold Nico in his arms like this.

He'll take what he can get, though. And if that's a purring cat pressing his cold nose in Euijoo's neck, well. It's a lot better than nothing.

;;;;;

Euijoo plants tomatoes. The windchime by his door twinkles in the breeze as Euijoo sinks his hands into cool soil, letting it ground him. He’s watched a few Youtube tutorials, just to make sure he does this right even though he doesn’t have all the equipment necessary. Maybe he should pitch a gardening class at school. Teach the kids about the ecosystem and the environment and get them to play in the dirt. A win-win for everyone involved, surely.

Euijoo wants to keep something alive. Sure, he keeps kids alive every day, and he wants nothing more than to help them thrive, but there's something so tangible in getting your hands dirty and seeing the results. In watering the fruits of your labour, up to the point where you can harvest something to eat.

He's never had much of a green thumb. But he often thinks back of that day when he met Nico, in the summer, dust bunnies in the air of the apartment, and that makes Euijoo want to plant tomatoes. And he's going to keep them alive.

;;;;;

If you told Euijoo a few months ago that he’d find himself eating dinner with a ghost regularly, he’d have laughed at you. First of all, ghosts don’t eat, duh, and also, why would he ever do that?

But that was before Nico. Now he sits here at his tiny folding table with the bulgogi leftovers from dinner at his parents’ the night before, and the chair across from him is pulled back like there’s someone there, sitting. He doesn’t know if Nico isn’t floating about, but it’s like they both like to pretend, as they chat.

“How are your parents?”

“They’re well. My mom asked me again if I’m dating. It’s getting kind of awkward.”

“Why?”

Euijoo flushes, looking down at his chopsticks as he gathers some rice. He can’t tell Nico it’s because he’s got a crush on him, because he’s harbouring some sort of hope that somehow Nico feels the same and maybe they can work this out. Which is crazy, but it’s not like it never happens. Some couples stay together after death. Some couples meet like this. It’s rare, but it happens sometimes.

But that’s neither here nor there, because Euijoo has no idea if his feelings are reciprocated, and now he feels like he’s backed himself into a corner. So he switches the target.

“Did you have a girlfriend? Or a boyfriend? A partner?”

“Subtle,” Nico chuckles. “I didn’t. Not when I died, anyway. I dated around quite a bit, but never really seriously. Didn’t care about their gender to be honest, it was just about whether we clicked or not. Vibes, you know?”

Euijoo snorts, because of course Nico would be a guy that relies on vibes for his dating life. Everything Euijoo has been gathering about him painted this image of a free spirited, happy go lucky kind of guy that still managed to exude cool. Not only does Euijoo fully regret not getting to meet him before he passed, but he’s also a little jealous. Of Nico, but also of the people he dated.

“Well, you were young. You didn’t have to date with intent.”

“What about you?” Euijoo feels a brush of cool air against the back of his neck. It’s almost like a caress, fingers ghosting along his skin. He bites his lip, trying to ignore the goosebumps on his forearms.

“I dated. Not really had the time since I started working. My mom really wants me to, and she wants me to date with the intention to marry, but it’s awkward, because I haven’t told my parents I’m not straight. Sure, I could meet a woman that I want to be serious with, but…”

He trails off, busying himself with a piece of beef. His mom’s cooking really is the best.

“But?” Nico prompts, gentle but curious.

Euijoo takes a breath, before he bites the bullet. What has he got to lose? At worst they’ll be awkward for a while. Maybe Nico will leave, which would suck, but it would help Euijoo move on if Nico doesn’t care about him like that.

“But I like you,” he says finally, forcing himself to not mumble.

There’s stillness around him, and Euijoo’s heart sinks for a moment, before he feels another cold touch, this time against his cheek. Somehow, it feels tender, and Euijoo swallows hard, looking in the direction the touch came from. Focused, like he could make out Nico’s shape if he tries hard enough.

“I like you too,” Nico replies after a while, the voice he’s picked deep and soft, rumbling through Euijoo and making him shiver. “If I was alive, I’d be dating you with intent.”

That makes Euijoo chuckle, a little watery noise that’s like a pressure valve giving inside him. He pushes some meat around his bowl, letting the relief buoy him. “I kinda feel like we’re already dating. And I like that.”

“It does. But now we know that we’re on the same page. Now finish your food before it gets cold.”

Euijoo eats with renewed vigor, unable to keep his smile at bay.

;;;;;

Euijoo’s eyes flutter open, lips parting on an exhale that fogs up in the air in front of him. He shivers, burying further into his duvet. Did he wake up because the heating stopped working? No, he’s not actually that cold. It’s just his lips. He purses them as he closes his eyes again, sighing softly. The sun isn’t up, it has to be early, he doesn’t have to be up and get ready for work for another few hours at least.

His breath fogs out again. Euijoo frowns.

His lips are cold, his breath is cold. It’s not a normal kind of cold, either, it’s the unnatural kind that Euijoo has only ever felt when he’s grazed his fingers against Nico.

“Nico?” he asks, not opening his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” comes the soft reply, the cold sensation moving to Euijoo’s forehead, along his temples, ghostly fingertips against his skin. It feels nice, and Euijoo relaxes into it. “I know I shouldn’t do this.”

“What? Touch me?”

“I have to focus so hard for you to feel it,” Nico says, but he doesn’t stop. Euijoo desperately wants to be able to see Nico, to be able to tell where he is, to be able to look into his eyes. It makes him feel so utterly awake all of a sudden, the unfairness of it all cresting over him like a tidal wave. It's a bitter, angry feeling twisting him up inside, and he reaches out, his hand meeting cold for a split second. Euijoo wonders if that's what grief feels like, if you can feel grief for someone you didn't know.

“Were you kissing me?” he asks, his voice trembling a little.

“No, it's just my fingers,” Nico replies, sounding plaintive. He's gotten so good at using the voice samples from the laptop Euijoo always keeps on for him. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

Euijoo should say no. He should laugh it off, because it's insane, wanting to be kissed by a ghost in the middle of the night, even if they’re dating. Because Euijoo didn’t even think that the dating could be physical in any logical way, and he was fine with that. That’s what you get for dating a ghost, surely.

But to be honest, he feels a little insane these days, missing Nico any second they're not around each other. Euijoo should say no, but he doesn't.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, a barely there word that hangs in the air like Nico is holding on to it.

The next brush of cold is even gentler than before. It's brief, an icy balm over Euijoo's mouth for a split second, and then it's gone. Euijoo swallows down a sob as Nico's presence dissipates, the air around Euijoo easing into something warmer. It might have been too much energy.

Euijoo is in love with a ghost.

;;;;;

When Euijoo gets home after work one late Tuesday evening, this is what he does in order: let his work bag drop to the floor, toe off his battered converses, and finally bend down to check his scraped knee, the material of his work pants torn. He’s bleeding sluggishly, and there’s gravel in the wound, which makes him grimace. Well, better clean this up.

“What the fuck happened?” Nico’s voice rings through the apartment, alarmed, as Euijoo hobbles gingerly to the bathroom. He strips his trousers off, belt clanging against the linoleum floor, and sits on his plastic stool in the bathroom after grabbing his first aid kit.

“Ah, I was distracted, and someone pushed me. It’s fine, it’s just a scrape.”

“Someone pushed you? Just like that? Did they at least apologise?”

Euijoo starts sighing, only to cut it off by clenching his jaw as he disinfects his knee, the skin raw. It’s all hot and throbbing, but nothing Euijoo can’t get over.

“Sometimes when I walk down busy streets, I feel like a ghost, myself. I try to not take too much space, but sometimes it’s like I’m invisible.”

Nico growls. As in, Euijoo is pretty sure he went and found an actual dog growling and used that sound, and it actually makes Euijoo huff out a laugh.

“That’s not okay,” he ends up saying, and Euijoo finally looks up from his knee, smiling ruefully.

“No, it’s not. And most days, when something like this happens, I’ll speak up. But I had this parents-teacher evening tonight and it was draining, in every way. I just wanted to be home, not another fight.”

It’s like the tension in the air dissipates, as if Nico was holding on to it with his ghostly fingers, and Euijoo’s words made him release it. Euijoo feels cold against his knee, soothing.

“Did the parents-teacher thing go okay?”

Another sigh. Euijoo leans back against the wall, enjoying Nico’s cold touch for a while. “It did, mostly. But I have to be on, you know? I have to be pleasant, and professional, and a good educator, even when the parents are being dicks. That’s why I wanted to go home quickly. When I'm with you, I don't feel like I have to put on a face. I don't have to pretend.”

He goes back to the first aid kit, digging through to find a bandaid big enough to cover the wound.

“I like meeting people, I’m not shy, but I'm still mostly introverted, so my social battery can only take so much. But here, with you, it's just me.”

Nico is quiet for a while, long enough that Euijoo starts to wonder if he had to go all of a sudden. But then the cold, soothing sensation is back across his knee.

“Well let me tell you, Byun Euijoo. I think that you, without mask or pretenses, are amazing.”

Music starts playing from the speakers in the living-room, music that Euijoo doesn’t recognise. It swells with feeling, in that old-fashioned way that makes Euijoo grin, leaning back against the wall again. When the singing starts, it’s in Mandarin.

“Thank you, Nico-yah,” he murmurs, his fingers hovering just above the chilly phantom tingle of Nico’s touch.

;;;;;

Euijoo meets Harua in a coffee shop, one of the generic chains that have about a million locations across Seoul, because it feels safe for both of them to be somewhere busy and near a subway stop, just in case one of them wants to bolt. It was Nico’s idea, because of course it was Nico’s idea. Harua was his best friend, and he’d thought that maybe he’d want to know that Nico was still around.

It could also give Euijoo a chance to learn about Nico from somewhere that had known him. The thought was both exciting and excruciating, because Euijoo would never know Nico that way.

Explaining the situation to Harua was awkward, but in the end he’d accepted to meet. And here they were now, iced americanos sweating on the grainy wood of the table, tucked in a corner of a busy Twosome Place in Gangnam.

The awkwardness of meeting someone for the first time under strange circumstances melted away quickly, as Euijoo talked about Nico’s antics around the house; the two of them quickly falling into easy conversation. Harua’s nice, with a sharp wit and no spared words for his best friend, in a way that is still full of love. It’s obvious Harua misses Nico deeply, the undertones of his anecdotes full of longing for something that’s now gone.

Midway through their second coffee, Harua shows Euijoo a video of Nico performing at a talent show, the video grainy and a little blurry on his phone, but Nico shines so brightly front row and center of his dance crew, dropping into b-boying, that it catches Euijoo’s breath.

“He was the kind of guy to make heads turn when he walked into a room, huh?” he asks softly, eyes fixated on the Nico on screen.

“Oh, yeah. And he knew it, too. But he was never arrogant about it. Or very rarely. He was a brat 90% of the time, but somehow he managed to make it an endearing trait rather than an annoying one,” Harua replies, making Euijoo grin. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

Euijoo chuckles, before miming zipping his lips. “Promise I won’t, although I have to say, I don’t think he’s changed much.”

Harua rolls his eyes, fondly. “Of course he wouldn’t.”

“Hey, do you think you could send me some of these videos and photos? If it’s okay? It’s just… nice. To see him so alive.”

“Yeah, of course,” Harua replies with no hesitancy, smiling at Euijoo. He’s cute; Euijoo is not surprised that most of the pictures Harua’s shown him have Nico bear hugging him in some shape or form.

“Was he into physical touch?” Euijoo finds himself asking without thinking, blushing immediately after the words leave him. Oh, he didn’t mean for that to escape him. Harua raises an eyebrow in his direction, and Euijoo curls his hands around his glass so as to not try to hide his face or something. “I just wonder because he’s–I don’t know your experience with ghosts, but some of them are strong enough to like. Make their presence felt, and he does that a lot. It’s a cold sensation where he touches you.”

“He only got really touchy with people he was really comfortable with. Or people he was into romantically.” Harua pauses, smirking a little. “So whichever one you fit in.”

The way Harua looks at him is telling Euijoo he knows exactly which category Euijoo falls into, even if Euijoo himself kinda wants to be in both. Hopes to be in both. He toys with his straw for a moment, finding himself smiling back at Harua, until both of them are chuckling.

The atmosphere is comfortable, if a little loaded with grief. That’s what makes Euijoo ask his next question, because he might have just met Harua, but he already knows if he can help him, Euijoo wants to.

“Do you want to come see him?”

After a startled second, Harua smiles, but it's sad. “I appreciate the offer, and maybe someday I will take you up on it, but… I don't think I should. I don't think I'm ready. I worry that if I get to see him now, I will become dependent on it. It wouldn't help either of us.”

The answer is raw, jagged in the way Harua delivers it, like he’s trying not to tear up, and that makes Euijoo think he’s going to cry. He nods quickly in answer, because he gets it. It’s not like Euijoo himself isn’t addicted to Nico’s presence in his life now, he can’t imagine how bad it would be if he’d known him when he was alive.

“I get it,” Euijoo manages to answer once he’s swallowed down the burning in his eyes. “For what it’s worth, the invitation is there, if you ever want to take me up on it.”

Harua nods. “Thank you. Let’s keep in touch, okay? You can update me on how he’s doing.”

Euijoo grins. “I’d like that.”

They keep talking for a while longer, before they finally part ways but not before Harua turns back to Euijoo by the coffee shop door, pulling a beanie down on his bright red hair.

“Tell him I miss him, okay? But he can't come visit me. Not yet.”

Euijoo's heart squeezes painfully, but he nods softly. “I'll tell him.”

;;;;;

The school year starts back up, and with it, Euijoo’s routine settles back into what it used to be. Up early, dressed in clothes that are slightly too old for him, he spends many hours with his class before coming back home exhausted enough that he barely has the strength to make dinner. Half the time he orders in, when Nico starts scolding him for not looking after himself well enough. Autumn settles in the city, and while Euijoo’s tomato plants have been thriving, they start struggling with the cold that comes in. Euijoo still tries his best, preparing them for the winter to come so they can be strong in the summer once more.

Some evenings Chubs lets Nico take over, and they spend a few hours curled up together, Chubsnico purring loudly against Euijoo’s chest or shoulder like a personal massager. Other nights they watch tv together, Nico keeping his presence known with a cold press against Euijoo’s arm or thigh, when they’re not running commentary through the whole show. Sometimes they just chat, bickering and teasing each other in between sharing more about themselves, slowly peeling layers off of each other until Euijoo feels like Nico has to know him better than most people.

More often than not, Nico sends Euijoo to sleep with one of these ghostly kisses Euijoo has gotten used to, the ones he wishes he could respond to. He can never kiss him back properly, but Euijoo always sends a flying kiss up to the ceiling in answer. It’s silly, but Nico keeps on saying he’s keeping them, and that’s enough for Euijoo to keep doing it.

;;;;;

“Why are you even doing this, Euijoo-yah? Why do you stay here with me when you could be out there, dating real people? People that are alive?”

Nico doesn't sound angry. He sounds concerned, if anything. Worried that Euijoo is wasting his time when he could be hitting the apps or the bars, when he could be doing anything else. Which makes Euijoo want to cry, because there's nothing he wants more than just be here with Nico, but he also completely get the question. He isn't offended by it, or angry. It's just so utterly, deeply fucking sad.

“Do you think I'm pathetic?”

“What? No, Juju, that's not at all why I asked!”

“I know. I think I'm pathetic. I'm clinging to you because you… I care about you so much, but I know it's hopeless. I just don't want anyone else, even if you're not alive. It's dumb to say but like. My needs are met when I'm with you, why would I go anywhere?”

There's a whisper of cold against Euijoo's cheek, and it makes his eyes flutter shut, swaying into it a little. He's grown into loving the cold sensation that accompanies Nico touching him, in his own way.

“What about your physical needs?” Nico asks. Euijoo can't help the whine that escapes him, embarrassment rising up in his chest at the same rate as a flush spread over his cheeks. He hides his face in his hands, ignoring the way Nico chuckles.

“I don't think I have any right to be jealous if you were hooking up,” Nico adds, and Euijoo has no idea how he's managed to find voice samples that sound bittersweet, but he does. Or maybe Euijoo is projecting, because that's what he wants to hear.

He drops his hands and opens his eyes. It's hard to have a serious conversation with someone you can't see, but Nico deserves it.

“Okay, yeah, of course I get horny, but… If I'm honest, the idea of going out to hook up with someone is the least appealing thing ever. I'm at work ten hours a day, and even on weekends I'm preparing for the next week. I don't have the energy to try and impress someone just for a dick appointment, especially because, well. They won't be you.”

The pause here is filled by Nico making his own plaintive noise, like Euijoo admitting this is hurting him. But ever since Euijoo got to see pictures and videos of Nico alive and free and laughing and dancing, he's known he was even more screwed than he already was.

Nico alive was even more gorgeous than the Nico he sees in mirrors and windows sometimes. He was bright, catching Euijoo's eyes in every picture, every video.

“If I was to bring someone home, would you possess them?” Euijoo asks, not entirely serious about it. But maybe a little.

“That'd be entirely unethical,” Nico replies, but he sounds regretful. Euijoo chuckles, the sound devoid of any humour, as he runs a hand over his face. “It would be morally wrong on many levels, Euijoo-yah. But trust me, I wish I could.”

“This is the most ridiculous conversation I've ever had,” Euijoo says, laughing again, this time actually amused, because it feels completely surreal. “Anyway I'm… Look, if it happens and I meet someone, I promise I'll see it through. But as it is, I'm pretty fine with my own hand and thoughts of you.”

He blushes again, just as Nico makes a strangled noise. “Oh,” he says after a moment, the voice he's picked deeper than the usual one. Euijoo swallows hard, eyes darting around the room. “Maybe we can work with that.”

“Yeah?” Euijoo doesn't try to be too hopeful, but he's relieved that Nico isn't trying to push him into a stranger's arms anymore. He doesn't want anyone else, but he knows it's a dangerous line to step over. “How?”

“You'll have to wait and find out, Juju.”

;;;;;

Euijoo sometimes wonders if Nico would ever turn into a vengeful ghost. What would be the triggers? He’s so strong, able to do more than any other ghost Euijoo has ever been around. If he turned evil, he could do so much damage, but Euijoo can’t even imagine what would turn Nico into such a presence.

Vengeful ghosts usually start out that way. The trauma of their lives turn them dark and twisted and needing to take revenge on those who hurt them, or just on anyone. Euijoo’s glad he never encountered one, but they tend to be a lot rarer than movies and tv shows would make you believe, which is for the best, considering there isn’t yet solid, permanent ways to banish such ghosts. They have unfinished business, and that tethers them to the mortal realm until their soul can finally rest.

What is Nico’s unfinished business? Euijoo doesn’t know, and he’s never asked, because he’s afraid of the answer. He’s worried it’s something that can be easily done, and Nico is either not doing it because he wants to stay here with Euijoo, or he’s working on it, and he’ll be gone soon. Neither are appealing to Euijoo; he doesn’t want Nico to be stuck here just because of the feelings they’ve developed for each other, but he also doesn’t want Nico to just up and disappear one day. He has no idea how he’ll handle that, the day it comes.

He does hope that Nico will say goodbye, though.

;;;;;

Nico’s way of ‘working with that’ comes with a phone call as Euijoo is settling into bed. The caller ID is blank, which is weird, but Euijoo’s curiosity is piqued. If it’s a spam call he’ll just hang up immediately.

“Hello?”

”Hey, it’s Nico,” is the immediate answer. Nico’s voice of choice is the one he uses the most, a pleasant to the ears deep and rumbly one that makes Euijoo’s eyes flutter shut. ”I wanted to try something new.”

“A goodnight call?”

Nico hums on the other end, making Euijoo grin.

”Remember when we talked about sex, and you said you were fine with your own hand and thoughts of me? I thought we could play pretend. Long-distance boyfriends.”

Euijoo inhales, a shot of heat bursting in his lower belly. “Oh, so this is a booty call?”

”I got worked up watching you build Ikea furniture earlier. It was hot.”

Euijoo laughs, because that’s sort of ridiculous and at the same time such a Nico thing to say and feel. Who gets horny watching someone assemble a Billy bookshelf?

“So, what are you wearing?” he asks just to make Nico laugh, a little giddy when it works.

”Just my boxers. I got too warm just thinking about you.”

It’s corny, and yet it still makes Euijoo bite his lip, his mind flipping through the different videos he’s seen of Nico, including the one where he and his friends were playing by the pool one summer. He’d been golden and well-built, in that way where you get muscles because you play a lot of sports rather than spend time in the gym. It’s easy for Euijoo to imagine him now.

“What were you thinking about?”

Nico hums again, taking his time with his answer. ”When you were building your bookshelf earlier, your forearms muscles kept on tensing, and it made me wonder if they’d do that when you put your hands on me.”

Euijoo swallows down a curse, pursing his lips as images flood his brain, of his hands all over Nico’s chest, down his thighs, over his knees. He closes his eyes, wishing that there was a way for him to see Nico naked. Did he ever send nudes to anyone? That’d be a weird thing to ask an ex.

Euijoo shakes the thoughts away before he gets distracted.

”And you kept on biting your lips, they got so red and even more plump than usual… I wanted to be the one to do it. Bite your lips swollen, make them throb. I’d straddle you while we kiss, too, so I could grind down on you a little. Get you as worked up as I feel.”

Well, Nico sure knows how to paint a picture. Euijoo feels the arousal course through his veins, pooling in his groin and giving him a semi in record time, just imagining himself touching Nico, kissing him until both their lips were swollen.

Another stray thought crosses his mind, and he blinks his eyes open, darting around the dark room.

“You’re not watching me, are you? It’s cheating if you’re watching me,” Euijoo pants into the phone, keeping his hand still at the edge of the blanket that’s thrown over his body.

Nico laughs. ”I’m not watching you. I’m being very good. Is there something you don’t want me to see, Euijoo-yah?”

Euijoo’s hand slips under the blanket and past the waistband of his shorts. He grazes the underside of his cock with his palm, not quite taking himself in hand just yet. He’s not making this a race to the finish.

“No, I wish you could see how you made me hard in .2 seconds, but it’s not fair if I don’t get to see you, too.” He hisses at the sensation of his own fingers lightly circling the tip of his cock, eyes rolling to the back of his head. “But if you’re wondering, I’m definitely worked up. And if you were here with me, I’d made such good use of my swollen lips, Nico-yah.”

Nico grunts into the mic, and Euijoo has a spare brain cell to wonder where does he even find all of these sounds.

”Yeah?” he asks, voice gone even deeper. ”What would you do?”

Euijoo gives up on teasing himself. He wraps his hand fully around himself, completely immersed in the moment. Right now, his boyfriend isn’t a ghost, but just far away, just as yearning as Euijoo himself is, horny and needy.

“I’d start with your nipples,” Euijoo replies, his cheeks burning. He’s not used to saying these things out loud, but he’s pushing through. “Suck on them, one after the other. Feel them all hard against my tongue. Then I’d wander down. I’d take my time, taste all of you, before getting my mouth on your dick. I’m not an expert, though, so I hope you like it a little sloppy.”

Nico doesn’t try to swallow down the curse that follows. “Fuck, Euijoo… I just know you’d look so beautiful like that. Gorgeous and debauched. You’d make me come so fast, I don’t even care that it’d be embarrassing.”

Once again Euijoo is struck with how much he wishes he could hear Nico’s actual voice, all affected and wanting. He’s glad Nico is not pulling out some unnatural moaning sounds from some porn movie, because it would get Euijoo in his own head. He has no doubt Nico is into this, even if he’s not able to pant down the phone the way Euijoo is.

”Are you touching yourself?”

“Yeah,” Euijoo replies breathlessly. “Are you?”

He doesn’t even know if it’s something Nico can do, if it’s something he wants to do. He doesn’t have a corporeal form, is his horniness all immaterial?

Euijoo pushes his underwear down to his thighs. He’ll believe that Nico is getting something out of this, even if it’s not physical. He has to.

”I don’t… need to. But I’m right here with you. I wish I could be the one touching you. Properly. There’s so much I would do to you, you have no idea. I’d ride you into next week, Euijoo-yah. I’d let you fuck my face. Mark me up with all sorts of bruises I couldn’t explain. I want you so bad.”

The arousal mixes with terrible longing, but Nico’s words hit their mark, and Euijoo arches off the bed with a moan, hand stripping his cock faster and faster as he gets closer by the second. It’s the image of Nico sitting on his dick, rolling his hips, head thrown back in ecstasy that will be his undoing, he just knows it.

”Fuck, you sound so good. Would you moan my name, Euijoo-yah? Let me hear how good I make you feel?”

Euijoo shivers, tightening the ring of his fingers just under the head of his cock to stave off an orgasm for a few seconds longer. He wants to give Nico everything. The world on a fucking platter. His whole body and soul. Anything he asks.

“Nico-yah,” he breathes out in another moan, louder this time. “I’m thinking about you riding me,” he admits, brain fully gone offline. He’s just going on pure sensation.

Nico chuckles, low and deep. ”You’re thinking about how well I’d take your cock, huh? It might be a tight fit at first because I know you’re big, baby, but I’m no quitter. I’d ride you until you’re coming inside me, feel you all up in my guts. Fuck–”

The moment Nico seems to lose his words, Euijoo loses it. He comes into his hand, kicking the blanket off of him with an errant foot and barely saving it. Euijoo chokes on a groan, curling in bed as his muscles twitch, pleasure flooding his system. “Oh fuck, Nico,” he breathes down the phone, shivering through his orgasm. He’s not even able to touch the fact that Nico called him baby, which is completely new.

”You sound so good, Euijoo,” Nico replies, and Euijoo barely registers the words at first, floating for a little while as he rides the high of coming the hardest he might ever have in his life. He doesn’t try to speed up the process of coming back to reality, and Nico stays quiet for a while longer, just humming down the line like a warm presence.

”You doing okay?” he asks after a while, when Euijoo’s breathing has returned to something more normal, and he’s finally able to uncurl from the fetal position to grab the tissues on his bedside table and give himself a cursory clean up. He laughs, almost in disbelief.

“Am I? I don’t know if my legs still work.”

Nico laughs along. ”Mission accomplished. We can work with that, right?”

Euijoo takes a breath through his nose, giving himself a second before he asks the question gnawing at his now-online-again brain. “Was it–was it good for you? Or did you just do this for me?”

”Technically, I can’t have a physical orgasm. But that was like… tantric sex for me. So yeah. Yeah, it was good for me. It was incredible.”

Euijoo flushes, pleased beyond belief. He shrugs his underwear back on, tossing the balled-up tissues down the side of the bed. He’ll deal with it tomorrow.

“Then we can definitely work with this, Nico-yah,” he says with a laugh. “Baby, huh?”

”Did you like it? Spur of the moment.”

“Is there a Mandarin word you’d use instead?”

”Want me to call you baobei?”

He changes the voice for the baobei, switching to a Mandarin speaker. Euijoo smiles, flipping his blanket back over his middle. In a moment like this, caught in the post-orgasm and pre-sleep chemicals in his brain, Euijoo doesn’t care anymore if he sounds silly or cheesy. It might not be something he usually says when fully awake and sober, but he’ll bask in the intimacy they’ve wrapped around themselves for a while longer, and stop being scared of consequences for things that are inconsequential.

“I think that sounds lovely, jagiya.”

;;;;;

Some days are harder than others. When Euijoo comes home covered in snot and paint, and all he wants is to have Nico’s fingers scrubbing through his hair in the shower. Or the days where his mom calls and afterwards Euijoo feels just off of his own skin because he can’t tell her about Nico, he can’t introduce him to her. It’s moments like that; usually more emotional ones than anything else, because when it comes to the physical side of things, while Euijoo wishes he could touch Nico, he’s not unsatisfied.

It’s when he wants a hug, or when he wants to be able to look into Nico’s eyes when they’re talking. When he wants them to share a bowl of popcorn and have their buttery fingers touch when they both reach for some at the same time. It’s when he wants something tangible, and he’s reminded in door creaks or passing, unnatural breezes, that his boyfriend is a ghost.

There are some cases of ghosts coming back. When it wasn’t their time, or when they’ve pushed past all the natural boundaries of the world to bring themselves back in living, breathing bodies. But it’s so rare that Euijoo can’t really think about it, dare himself to hope. He doesn’t bring it up to Nico, either. What good would it do, when the possibility of it happening is so slim? It’s not like Euijoo can do anything to help; it’s well known that you just don’t bring people back to life. It never works, and only leaves you more heartbroken in the wake of the consequences.

Grief is a funny thing. It comes at you in all sorts of ways, when you least expect it. When Euijoo wonders if he should even be allowed to feel grief when it comes to Nico, it still slams into him like a physical blow, cutting off the oxygen to his lungs. The fact that he’ll never get to see Nico breathe. That he’ll never hear his actual laugh, not passed through someone else’s voice. He’s met him at the most serendipitous time of his life, but that’s only for Euijoo. For Nico, it was already too late.

Euijoo wonders if Nico ever feels the same. If he has this kind of regret, about the two of them never being able to meet quite in the middle. Maybe he thinks there’s no point in dwelling on what can and can’t be. Maybe he’s satisfied with the way things are between them, the two of them making the most of what they’ve been given. Or maybe he moves around with his own grief at all times, and he manages to keep it hidden away from Euijoo.

It’s not often that Nico appears upset, or sad. He told Euijoo before that he doesn’t want to waste their time together with unhappiness and unpleasantness, even if Euijoo insisted that these things are just human nature, and he wants to know Nico through and through, not just the happy parts. But it’s hard, when their time is already stolen as it is. Euijoo doesn’t want to be sad when they’re together, either.

It just builds up the grief. And when Nico disappears for a few days, Euijoo lets it out. Whether it’s through anger, or sadness, or just bursts of productivity, he tries to let it out as best he can, so that it doesn’t affect their relationship when Nico comes back, appearing in the bathroom mirror like an angel on Euijoo’s devious shoulder. They’ll share a smile, a spark in their eyes, a ghostly touch.

It’s a new normal for Euijoo, one that he’s learning to appreciate, a little more every day.

;;;;;

Nico disappears for a while longer than usual, and Euijoo tries not to worry. It’s hard not to. Especially when a while longer turns to a whole month, and Euijoo starts to think maybe he hallucinated the last six months. Maybe none of it had been real.

He breaks down one night, scared and worried and missing Nico. Euijoo cries quietly, hiding his tears into the tomato plushie he’s found at the farmers’ market once and couldn’t resist buying, the one Nico teased him and cooed about in equal measures. He calls out for Nico, wishing he would just be back, be here, no matter how immaterial he may be. None of this has ever been fair, but the uncertainty of Nico’s absence burns more painfully than anything else.

He's not sure what to do, what recourse he has. He has no way of getting in touch with Nico, of checking in on him. He can only wait, anxiety ridden and unable to focus on anything else than the oppressive silence when he's home.

If Nico’s gone for good, he didn’t say goodbye, which is the reason why Euijoo clings onto hope, day after day, refusing to believe Nico would have just left him. He’ll come back, he has to.

;;;;;

It’s a random Saturday afternoon, nondescript for Euijoo who has started to feel like colours have been dulled since Nico’s left, when his doorbell goes. He’s startled by it, remembering that the last time someone visited was months ago. He’s been living like a hermit.

Still, Euijoo shuffles over to open the door, not caring that there are bags under his eyes only half-hidden by his glasses, and that the collar of his shirt has been stretched out, making it shapeless.

He doesn’t know the person on his doorstep, and yet he gasps as soon as their eyes meet, because his first thought is Nico. Which isn’t possible, shouldn’t be possible, can’t be possible, and yet. This guy is a dirty blonde, which is not a colour Euijoo has ever seen on Nico, but. His face. Those eyes, that smile, those nice teeth, that sharp nose. Euijoo inhales sharply again, but the air doesn't seem to reach his lungs.

“N–Nico?” Euijoo grips the door, needing something solid against him.

“Hi, Euijoo-yah,” Nico replies. His smile is hesitant. “I figure this is a shock. I’m sorry I disappeared for a while, but as you can see, I was… busy. Becoming a real boy again.”

“Wait, but. Wait, that makes no sense,” Euijoo stammers, hand reaching out for Nico and then stopping just short. “How do I know it's you?”

“You love to eat bananas while standing right there,” Nico says, pointing to the side of the window just beyond Euijoo. “You take your bottle of honey with you and you pour some on each bite. Once you did it shirtless and dripped some on your chest and I made a joke about waxing, but really all I was thinking about was licking it off of you.”

Euijoo, still breathless, stands there unblinking, taking it all in. Is this really Nico? It’s the same features as the ones he’s seen in pictures, only maybe a little bit older, a little bit softer. Euijoo’s heart thunders in his chest, beating a bruise against his ribcage as hope bursts through him like so many flowers blooming.

“When you were at work I'd spend hours listening to voices and sounds throughout the Internet to find the voices that were the closest to mine, so you could almost hear me as I am. I'd also find new songs to add to the playlist you'd put on at the weekend, when you curl up in your chair to read. We bickered every day, because I love to rile you up with stupid stuff and you'd always get huffy about it. You're a Virgo and I'm a Cancer. The doorcode is my birthday–”

Euijoo shakes himself out of his trance, holding a hand up. “Okay, okay, okay, but like… Nico, how?”

Nico grimaces. They're still in Euijoo's doorway, but he's still not sure how to move. He’d been so certain it could never be, he can’t wrap his mind around the fact that apparently, through sheer stubbornness, Nico made it happen.

“It's not a very pleasant story to tell, but basically, I made a pact with someone. I ran a few errands for him, finished his business, and he let me… Take over.”

“Possession?”

“Not quite. More permanent than that, and he's… Vacated the premises. It’s more like reincarnation. Which is why I look more like me. Euijoo-yah. It's me.”

It’s him. It’s Nico. With a body that Euijoo can touch, and a heartbeat he can hear, and breaths that are warm. Nico is alive.

Euijoo passes out.

;;;;;

He comes to on his bed, with Nico hovering above him, looking worried. Euijoo immediately sits up, pressing a hand to his forehead when he gets dizzy.

“Wow, wow, take it easy! You might have knocked your head.”

“I’m okay, I think,” Euijoo replies, eyes finding Nico’s after he puts his glasses back on, wanting to be sure he sees him clearly. “How long was I out?”

“Just a couple of minutes. Do you need water?”

Euijoo opens his mouth, closes it. He looks at Nico, how close he is, radiating heat instead of cold, his brain refusing to fully come to terms with what he’s seeing. Nico is alive. Nico is alive.

Instead of answering Nico’s question, Euijoo asks his own.

“You didn't do this for me, right?”

Nico kneels down in front of Euijoo, looking up at him. His eyes are so bright, and so many things are swirling in them. Euijoo wants to dive in and never have to come up for air.

“I've been researching for months how to do this. I wanted it for myself. Do you know why I was still hanging around and I was so strong that I could touch you regularly, and yap all the time, and leave to go visit my sister? It was because I had so much unfinished business it was like the whole universe was rejecting the fact that I died. So I decided not to be dead anymore. I have too much to live for. You are one of the many reasons.”

It will take a while for Euijoo to process this. But the fact of the matter is, Nico is here, and he’s alive. Euijoo has missed him so much, but now he gets to touch him. He reaches out, grabbing one of Nico’s hands with both of his, taking in the warmth of his skin when he presses Nico’s fingers against his own heated cheek. Nico surges up, and Euijoo sways into him, forehead to forehead. He’s sure he’ll cry at some point soon, but right now he just breathes Nico in.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I had to leave for a while. It all happened really fast, and I didn’t have much time to prepare. I should have left you a message, I’m sorry.”

Euijoo’s breath stutters as he smiles, shaking his head. “It’s okay. It’s okay, you’re here now. I’m so happy you’re here.”

Nico lets out a soft chuckle. “Yeah? Am I still allowed to be your roommate, even though I take up a lot more space now?”

“If you leave again I’ll be the one to find you and haunt you.”

Nico laughs again, letting Euijoo’s hands wander over him, like he needs to make sure. But he’s solid, he’s here in Euijoo’s space, and Euijoo isn’t kidding when he says he doesn’t want Nico anywhere else. Nico’s eyes are closed, an open, happy smile on his face. Euijoo has to wonder how it feels for him.

“You’re so beautiful,” Euijoo whispers, too awed to be able to raise his voice any more.

The way they fall into a kiss is natural, the tipping point of a series of events. Euijoo slides off the bed right into Nico’s lap, arms wrapping around his neck as Nico holds onto his hips, fingers thick and warm even through Euijoo’s shirt. It’s a kiss that makes Euijoo brand new, reborn after weeks of wandering like a ghostly version of himself. He drags a hand down to press against Nico’s heart, just to feel the way it kicks up faster as they deepen the kiss, as Nico groans and Euijoo is all ears to hear it this time. His glasses go askew as they press closer to each other.

He pulls away to take another look at Nico’s face, trying to commit it to memory, before he quickly removes his glasses and tosses them on the bed, leaning back in to kiss Nico again, even deeper, pouring all of his feelings into it. Nico holds on to Euijoo like he’s afraid of letting go, kissing back with the same intensity, the same depth of feelings that make Euijoo feel like he could soar up and reach the sun.

Nico is home, and their life together can truly, finally, start.