Ficorpio
Chapter 1
(Dual male leads: a gentle, secretly scheming top and a snack-obsessed, romantically oblivious bottom.)
A word of advice: if you have standards when it comes to food, do not go to college out of state. Do not. Otherwise, you’ll end up like me, spending every single day agonizing over what to eat.
I went to college out of state, and because the food culture was so different, I could not get used to the meals here at all.
Freshman Military Orientation was fine. I was exhausted, everything was unfamiliar, and there were enough new things to try that I managed. But once orientation ended and the novelty wore off, almost everything started tasting like cardboard.
Especially the dining hall. I have to call out the dining hall by name. Everything was greasy but somehow not properly seasoned, loaded with random add-ins, and one bite tasted like artificial flavoring.
The meat was dry, too. Tough and dry. In all my years of being alive, I had never eaten meat that bad.
Back then, I survived on one meal a day and a few cookies.
Sometimes I couldn’t even get one meal down.
Once, I made it halfway through lunch before I had to find somewhere to throw up.
I almost never cry, but that night I hid under my blanket and called my sister, sobbing so hard I could barely breathe. When the other roommates came back, they thought something terrible had happened to me. They all panicked and hovered around, completely lost on how to comfort me.
After they finally got the reason out of me, they were visibly relieved—and then immediately dragged me out on a massive food hunt.
In the end, all I managed to drink was one lemonade from a cheap tea place.
These were lessons written in blood and tears.
The next day, I sat in my chair thinking about what to eat for lunch. When I still couldn’t come up with an answer, I was already considering transferring schools.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I was going to starve to death away from home.
That was when Ethan Hayes appeared, carrying a homemade lunch.
“Nolan, want to try something I made? I like to think I’m a pretty decent cook.”
At the time, I didn’t have any expectations. I just didn’t want to waste his kindness.
Then I tasted it.
I changed my face, forgot my roots, and abandoned all principles.
I wiped my mouth, turned around, and hugged him on the spot. “Sugar Daddy! Thank you for saving my miserable life!”
He went along with it immediately. “There, there. Good boy.”
I asked where he had borrowed a kitchen.
In my head, I was already thinking that if it was convenient, I wouldn’t transfer. I’d just buy groceries and cook for myself.
“I didn’t borrow one,” he said. “I’m not planning to live on campus full-time. I bought an apartment off campus.”
Ah.
Rich people.
My mistake.
Looked like transferring was still on the table.
I drooped. “Then forget it.”
His heart was honestly too soft. When he saw how obvious my disappointment was, he offered to let me use it whenever I had time.
Chapter 2
But I didn’t know him that well back then, and I felt bad troubling him, so I refused.
The reason I suddenly changed my mind later was because he said living alone got lonely, and that he was willing to let me come over because he wanted company. It would make the place feel warmer.
I knew he was only finding an excuse for me.
But he was being so nice that if I kept refusing, I’d seem ungrateful.
From that day on, I started calling him my sugar daddy.
“Nolan Brooks.”
He was calling me.
“What?” I poked my head out from behind my bed curtain and looked at him.
“Come down and eat.”
“Okay.”
I answered, then clambered down from the bunk with great effort.
Ethan Hayes was now a thoroughly responsible father figure. What I ate, what I wore, when I slept, who I made friends with… he had opinions on all of it.
My own family didn’t worry about me this much.
“What are we eating?” My eyes locked straight onto the lunch container.
“Pulled chicken and stir-fried potatoes. I made them myself.”
Both were my favorites.
My sugar daddy was an excellent cook, but he didn’t cook often. Every time, I had to beg forever before he’d make something.
The first time I ate his cooking, I nearly cried from happiness.
His food tasted like home.
As always, I gave him a hug first to express my gratitude.
“Thanks, Campus Sugar Daddy. I love you even more now than I did last time. Mwah.”
“You little suck-up. You love my cooking, not me.” Ethan laughed and pinched my cheek.
I let him. It didn’t hurt, and besides, a person should respect their elders.
“What? No way. If I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t take a single bite no matter how good the food was.”
That clearly pleased him. He let go of my face and smiled. “Eat. Then go take a nap. You’ve got class this afternoon, right?”
“Yeah.”
Then something occurred to me. “Have you eaten yet? Want to stay and have some with me?”
Instead of answering, he just looked at me with that smile in his eyes and asked, “Do you want me to?”
I couldn’t explain what that moment felt like. The only thing I knew for sure was that I suddenly got weirdly self-conscious.
I almost said no.
But then I remembered something my sister had told me: if someone shows you affection, and they’re good to you, be honest about it. Say it clearly. Otherwise misunderstandings happen.
So I nodded.
He looked ridiculously happy and immediately ruffled my hair.
Now I was the unhappy one.
I slapped his hand away in annoyance.
Chapter 3
Ethan and I weren’t in the same major. Actually, none of my roommates were in the same major as me. I was studying history; they were all in finance.
My family was doing fine financially, definitely solid middle class, but compared to them?
Yeah. Not even close.
And I knew that very clearly because there was one particular walking money cannon in our dorm.
Every holiday counted as a holiday to Julian Mercer. Valentine’s Day, Halloween, Christmas, random made-up anniversaries—he’d celebrate all of them, and every single time he gave gifts that cost hundreds or thousands. If I accepted them, I had no idea how to return the favor. If I refused, he’d sulk and make a scene. At this point, holidays stressed me out.
“Noah~ I’m back. Did you miss me?”
Speak of the devil. Julian had returned.
“No.” I’d seen him this morning.
“Really?” He clutched his chest dramatically, like if I said no one more time, he’d collapse dead on the spot.
I nodded calmly, then picked out the strips of ginger Ethan had hidden among the stir-fried potatoes and dropped them into Julian’s bowl. “You put vegetables on my plate, you eat them yourself.”
He took a bite and couldn’t help laughing. “Noah, your eyes are terrifying. You can tell potatoes from ginger at a glance?”
I lifted my chin proudly. “Obviously.”
“Noah, how could you be so cruel to me? I’m going to throw a fit.” Julian stuck out his lower lip, clenched his fists at his sides, and even stomped a foot, looking deeply aggrieved.
I genuinely could not understand why there existed a man this theatrical.
And he wasn’t even gay.
But after years of exposure, I’d built up immunity.
“Go ahead,” I said, not even looking at him as I kept eating. “Just make sure you take it outside when I’m napping.”
Julian looked heartbroken. “You’re too much.”
Then the very next second, he grinned shamelessly at me. “Fine. Then as compensation, you’re sleeping with me tonight.”
I gave him a one-word answer.
“Get lost.”
“Then I’ll sleep with you tonight.”
How was that any different?
“Get lost!”
After getting rejected twice in a row, Julian’s whole face fell.
“So this is it,” he said mournfully. “You don’t love me anymore…”
“Sorry,” I said. “Never did.”
He looked like he was actually about to shatter.
…Okay.
Maybe I should throw him a bone.
“Ah,” I said, motioning for him to open his mouth.
Julian looked confused, but he did it.
I picked up a piece of chicken and tossed it into his mouth. “There. Be good, go entertain yourself, and tone down the performance.”