Work Text:
'Cause it's you and me and all of the people with nothing to do
Nothing to lose
And it's you and me and all of the people
And I don't know why, I can't keep my eyes off of you
It starts the night before he’s supposed to leave for Shanghai.
Renjun’s cooking him a farewell hotpot, and Jaemin’s fussing with his carry-on, making sure that he’s packed everything he needs - and so many things he doesn’t. It’s all a bit dramatic - he’ll only be gone for three days - but they’ve been together almost every day for years, so three days is almost a lifetime. Jisung gets it - he hasn’t seen Chenle for two days and everything feels off, like he’s suddenly shot up another metre and everything feels awkward and unbalanced.
So he lets Renjun quiz him on his Chinese (yes, please, thank you, excuse me where is the bathroom?), lets Jeno ruffle his hair and tell him not to stay up too late, and lets Jaemin bully him into packing a third power bank (just in case - because he doesn’t want to end up alone in a foreign country without the use of his phone does he?).
He sleepily watches Renjun and Jeno bicker about which movie they were going to see the next day, and he can’t help but smile. He might not have many friends, but this was better, this was family.One by one they head to bed, saying their goodbyes and squeezing Jisung in hugs so tight that he can barely breathe. They might love him, but there is a limit to their love, and getting up at 4am to send him off, is well beyond that.
Jaemin is the last to leave. He rests his hands on Jisung’s shoulders, and looks at him fondly. “Promise to take lots of pictures for me,” he says with a smile. “And take complete advantage of Chenle. Make him buy you things. Bleed him dry.”
Jisung grins. “I’ll try.”
Jaemin pulls him into a bone-crushing hug. “Why is it only you who gets to go to Shanghai?” he complains, breath hot against Jisung’s ear. “I want to go too.”
Jisung pauses. He’s never really thought about it. “Just lucky?” he suggests, as Jaemin finally releases him from his iron grip.
“Well, hopefully some of your luck will rub off on me,” Jaemin says, patting his cheek. “Now you should head to sleep as well. You’ve got an early start tomorrow.”
Jisung nods.
Jaemin yawns. “Good night Jisungie.”
“Night.”
As he sets his alarms, and settles on the couch (Jaemin had banned him from their room for the night) Jisung can’t stop thinking about what Jaemin had said. It was a throwaway comment, it meant nothing, and yet something about it had bothered him, stuck in his mind until he can’t believe he’d never questioned it before.
Why was he going? Why wasn’t anyone else? Why does he get to eat and play games in Shanghai, or cook with Chenle and call it work? All Jeno had been given was the honour of crunching celery in front of a microphone, yet somehow he and Chenle were special enough that SM decided to send them to another country together. He falls asleep with questions flitting through his mind, and the stomach churning feeling that he’s fixating on something that he should probably let alone.
* * *
He obsesses over it all through the two hour flight. But then when he sees Chenle waiting for him, bare-faced, fried hair sticking out in every direction, it all seems to drop away and he’s overtaken by pure excitement because he’s finally here, and he has two days with nothing planned except eating, and playing and seeing the sights of Shanghai with his best friend as tour guide.
Chenle tackles him into a hug, then pulls him gently towards a group of women, one of which Jisung recognises as Chenle’s mum. He bows deeply, suddenly shy.
Chenle’s mum smiles warmly at him. “Lele hasn’t stopped talking about you since we got back. He’s very excited you’re here,” she tells him in stilted Korean.
Jisung’s cheeks heat, and he’s not sure why. “I’m happy to be here,” he says.
“I’ve got so much planned for us,” Chenle tells him excitedly, his hands gripping Jisung’s waist as he guides him towards the exit. “I may have improved on our itinerary. I was a little bored without you here.”
“So you missed me?”
“Don’t push it,” Chenle says. “Mum is determined to fatten you up while you’re here, and everyone can’t wait to meet you, but that can wait. I thought you might want to go home first, take a shower, maybe a nap. Are you tired?” He gives Jisung an assessing look. “You look tired.”
Jisung smiles at Chenle’s fussing. “A shower sounds nice. But I’ll be ok without a nap. Don’t want to waste our time.”
“Don’t worry about that. The nap’s in the schedule already. I wanted to be safe - you’re unbearable when you’re tired.”
“Thanks a lot.”
Chenle shrugs. “I’m always honest.” He turns to his mum, says something in rapid Mandarin, and suddenly Jisung’s luggage appears beside them.
“Got everything?” Chenle asks him.
Jisung nods. He looks around. “Which one’s your car?”
“You’re standing right in front of it.”
Jisung blinks. “That’s not your car.” He turns to Chenle. “Is that your car?”
Chenle looks sheepish. “Technically not mineBut yes?”
“Ok, I knew you were rich but-” Jisung shakes his head in amazement. “This is on a whole other level.”
“You’re not going to be weird about it, are you?” Chenle asks hesitantly. “The money thing.”
“Only a little. I mean, your car has wings.”
Chenle rolls his eyes. “They’re doors you idiot.”
“Whatever. Can I sit in the front?”
*********
He doesn't get to sit in the front, but he can’t complain too much because Chenle’s grinning back at him, and there’s a swarm of butterflies in his stomach.
He’s more excited to be in Shanghai than he’d expected. Either that or Chenle’s happiness is infectious.
It takes a solid hour to drive to Chenle’s house in central Shanghai. As they get closer, the houses seem to grow in size, looming and impressive even from behind tall security gates.
Chenle’s house is set back from the street, bordered by lush trees that block it from view until suddenly they’re driving through the automated gates. Everything is green, and beautiful.
It takes them a full five minutes to walk up the driveway, which is four minutes longer than it takes Jisung to walk the entire length of his parent’s apartment. Twice.
Chenle herds him through the front door. He barely has a chance to greet Chenle’s aunt, before Chenle is dragging him through the house towards his bedroom. Jisung feels a little overwhelmed. Unlike the flashy car, everything about Chenle’s house is warm and understated. Still, it’s impossible to ignore the aura of wealth that surrounds everything.
It’s the kind of wealth that doesn’t need to shout to be felt.
Jisung can’t help but worry he’ll knock the ceramic vase off the side table, or track mud on the finely-knit carpet. He doesn’t have enough organs to sell off to cover the damage his magic hands could do in a place like this.
But then Chenle pulls him through a door to their left, and he’s in Chenle’s childhood bedroom, and just like at the airport, his worries somehow feel smaller and he can breathe easier, because Chenle’s bedroom is messy and comfortable, and he’s pretty sure that that’s his favourite hoodie balled up at the foot of the bed.
Chenle shuts the door behind them, and suddenly Jisung’s faced with a full size poster of NCT. He bites the inside of his cheek, trying not to laugh.
He doesn’t do a very good job of it, and his laughter escapes in an embarrassing snort. “Did you want me to sign that for you?”
Chenle rolls his eyes. “Sorry, but Park Jisung is my least favourite member of NCT. Now if you were Taeyong -”
“If I was Taeyong, I’d have a restraining order against you by now.”
Chenle whacks him on the arm. “Taeyong loves me.”
“Yeah, no idea why.”
“Because I’m cute and loveable,” Chenle says.
Jisung shakes his head, lips curling up in spite of himself. “You’re alright, I guess,” he admits.
“Coming from you that’s basically a compliment,” Chenle says, pushing Jisung towards the bed. “Now, sit and relax. And I’ll be right back with some fresh towels so that you can shower.”
Jisung nods. He slips his backpack off his shoulders, and watches Chenle leave the room. He flops back on Chenle’s bed, his head sinking into the pillow. Chenle’s bed is smaller than he’d expected, but the sheets are clean and it smells like Chenle. It’s a weird thing for him to notice, weirder still, the realisation that he likes the feeling of being surrounded by Chenle’s scent.
He’s too tired to dwell too hard on that. But Chenle is his best friend, and the smell reminds Jisung of Chenle’s hugs, of huddling together in the dorms gorging on snacks they’d stolen from Renjun’s ‘secret’ drawer. It’s comfort, it’s safety, it’s...
Jisung’s eyelids begin to droop.
* * *
Someone is shaking him gently. Jisung tries to shake them off. He’s so warm and so comfortable. He buries his head deeper into the pillow.
The shaking grows more insistent. Sharp fingers prod at his ribcage.
Jisung tries to pry his eyes open. They’re sticky with sleep, his eyelids feel swollen.
Finally he gets them open, and Chenle’s face fills up his whole field of view.
“Finally,” Chenle says, and he’s smiling. “Did you have a nice nap?”
Jisung drags himself upright. “How long was I asleep?” he croaks.
“A bit over an hour. You were out by the time I got back with the towels.”
Jisung lifts his arms over his head. The joints in his shoulders crack loudly as he stretches out his stiff muscles. “You should have woken me up,” he reproaches Chenle.
“But you looked so cute,” Chenle says. “And you obviously needed it.”
Something warm is bubbling in the pit of Jisung’s stomach.
“And I did not want to deal with grumpy sleep-deprived Jisung, who is a total nightmare.”
Jisung yawns. “As opposed to normal Jisung who is a delight?”
“Normal Jisung is more like only 70% nightmare.”
“Ah,” Jisung nods. “The ideal percentage of nightmare.”
Chenle shrugs. “Pretty much.” He stands up to grab a stack of fluffy towels from the chair in the corner, and dumps them unceremoniously in Jisung’s lap. “Bathroom is the first door to your right.”
******
The shower helps. He feels fresh and more alert, almost like himself. He finds Chenle back in his bedroom sprawled over his bed, airpods in, head swaying gently to music that is too quiet for Jisung to hear.
Still, Chenle’s head pops up as soon as Jisung enters the room.
“Took you long enough,” he complains.
“Plane grime,” Jisung explains.
Chenle snorts. “From your long and arduous two hour flight?”
“Exactly.”
Jisung presses his nose to his shoulder. “And now I smell like you.”
Chenle stares at Jisung, eyes unreadable. “You are so weird,” he finally says.
“I’m also hungry,” Jisung tells him.
“Then let’s go,” Chenle says. “Jaemin will kill me if I let you starve. I already have three messages on my phone asking if you’re ok. It’s like he doesn’t trust me.”
“Us,” Jisung corrects. “He doesn’t trust us.Together.”
“Well, that’s his problem,” Chenle says, shrugging on the denim jacket he pulls out of his closet. “We are responsible and capable.” He pushes Jisung towards the door. “Chenji in Shanghai. Let’s go!”
* * *
Shanghai is a lot like Seoul, just with a lot more people. Jisung had looked it up before the trip - almost 27 million, which was triple that of Seoul. The number makes his head spin.
Chenle takes him to one of his favourite restaurants. It’s packed and there’s a ten minute wait, so it looks promising.
The filming team trails behind them, switching on the cameras as soon as they’re seated. Jisung had been so fixated on Shanghai and Chenle that he’d almost forgotten that they were there to film content. That as much as it didn’t feel like it, this was work.
It feels almost intrusive when the cameras are once again trained on them. But then Chenle starts rambling about his nephew, about his new and improved itinerary, about how he can’t wait to destroy Jisung in the shooting game they were going to play the next day, and as quickly and intensely as his awareness of the cameras had flared, he forgets they’re there.
Chenle orders all his favourites, excitedly explaining to Jisung what each dish is. It’s way too much for just two people, but they’ll do their best. Halfway through, the filming crew decides they have enough footage of the two of them eating. They occupy their own booth, ordering a couple of dishes that Chenle recommends, leaving him and Chenle alone to finish off the rest of their food.
Chenle eats with his face close to the plate, shovelling food in as if his life depends on it. Jisung leans back in his seat and sighs contentedly.
“How is it?” Chenle asks him.
“Good. Really good.”
“Told you,” Chenle says smugly. “Shanghai restaurants are the best.” He points to a dish to the left of Jisung’s plate. Chenle had told him what it was, but there was so much food that it’s all jumbled in Jisung’s mind. All he knows is that it’s spicy and fragrant, with vegetables and meat that explodes with flavour. “You should take a photo and send it to Renjun,” Chenle tells him. “It’s his favourite, and he’s always complaining that they just don’t get it right in Korea. He’ll be so jealous.” Chenle’s eyes sparkle.
Suddenly it all comes flooding back to him. That weird uncertainty that he can’t place.
Jisung lays down his chopsticks.
Chenle looks up. “What’s wrong?”
“Why isn’t Renjun here?”
Chenle’s brow furrows. “Because it’s Chenji's This and That and not Ren-Chen-ji’s This and That?” he says slowly.
“That’s not what I mean.”
“What do you mean? Do you want Renjun to be here?”
“No,” Jisung says quickly. “Wait- that’s not what I mean. Don’t tell him I said that. Really, it’s not about Renjun at all.”
“Then what is it about?”
“I’m just confused.,”
“Can you get to the point Ji?”
Jisung sighs. He doesn’t know how to phrase it. Put it into words so that it makes sense anywhere outside his own brain.
“Why do I get to go to Shanghai with you?”
Chenle frowns. “Do you not want to be here?”
“That’s not it. You’re not getting it at all.”
“Well it’s not as though you’ve actually explained it to me,” Chenle points out. “We might be friends but I still can’t read your mind.”
“It’s just, yesterday, when I was saying goodbye to Jaemin, he said he was jealous, and he wished he was going with us, and it got me thinking, that it was weird that we couldn’t all come here as a group. It could have been like a mini NCT life.” It’s easier now that Jisung’s gotten started, but he still hasn’t gotten to the hard part - the thing that’s been bothering him, making his skin tingle with anxiety. He takes a deep breath, before continuing. “And then that got me thinking about how with everything we do, we get paired off just the two of us. Dream Vs Dream, Vlives, Chenji - all of it, just you and me every time.”
“And the point here is?” Chenle prompts.
Jisung huffs in frustration. “The point is why?”
“I thought you liked filming with me,” Chenle says. He sounds upset, and that was the last thing Jisung had wanted.
“I do,” Jisung says quickly. He hates to see Chenle sad. “Of course I do. It’s fun and it barely feels like work. But I just can’t help wondering what it is about us, that makes the company think that filming us is going to bring in the views. That’s the only reason they’re letting us do this.”
“People like watching us,” Chenle says.
“Yeah, but why?” Jisung presses on. “Renjun is more entertaining than us. Jeno is better looking. What’s so special about us? What do people see in us that thousands of fans around the world are eager to drop everything and watch us play with slime?”
There’s a strange look on Chenle’s face. “It’s not that deep, Jisung. People like us. That’s all. Maybe they’re drawn in by your magical poop hands. Now stop overthinking things and try the fried milk,” Chenle tells him, loading three pieces onto Jisung’s still-full plate. “It’s good right?”
Jisung’s not entirely convinced by Chenle’s explanation, but it’s clear that the conversation is over, so he just lets Chenle feed him until he’s full to bursting, and they leave the restaurant with Jisung feeling more like an overstuffed beach ball than a person. Still it seems to make Chenle happy and Jisung has the uncomfortable thought that he’d endure just about anything to keep the bright smile on Chenle’s face.
* * *
The rest of the day passes in a blur of sights and sounds. Chenle drags him to an amusement park. Jisung’s too afraid to go on any of the rides, just watches Chenle take on the worst ones, his heart in his throat as the carriages twist and plummet.
Jisung wishes he was brave like Chenle, but he isn’t. He’s afraid of birds, and dentists, loud sounds, and rides that could end in certain death. Chenle teases him, but doesn’t push, just encourages Jisung to try giving things a chance.
It’s a gorgeous day. The sun is out, and it’s so nice.
Being outside is nice, spending time with Chenle is nice, not being surrounded by three other teenage boys, and a horde of stylists and makeup artists, managers and videographers is nice. Everything about the day is
Everything feels almost perfect, except for the fact that ever since the restaurant Chenle seems off. Jisung wouldn’t have noticed if they didn’t know each other so well. Chenle talks and laughs, and acts just like usual, but there’s something a little distant about him, like he’s not all there.
It continues throughout dinner, and by the time it’s time to head to bed, Jisung’s body feels tight with worry.
Chenle sheds his jacket, and drops it over the back of an armchair by the door. “You should take the bed.”
Jisung’s eyebrows shoot up. There’s a thin rollout mattress set up on the floor, and he can’t imagine Chenle being comfortable there. “You’re going to sleep on that?”
Chenle shrugs. “I’ll survive.”
“Don’t you have like a million spare rooms in this place?”
“Yeah, there’s no way I’m leaving you in here alone so you can rummage through my childhood belongings,” Chenle says flatly. “And mum wants us to contain our mess to as few rooms as possible.”
Jisung startles at Chenle’s short tone. He frowns. “Are you mad at me?”
Chenle shakes his head. “Don’t be stupid.”
“Seems like you are,” Jisung says.
“I’m just tired.”
“You’re a terrible liar,” Jisung tells him. “Is this about before? Because it wasn’t supposed to sound like I was complaining about having to spend too much time with you. And obviously that’s not what I meant. You’re my favourite person and I’m always happy when we spend time together.”
“I know, Jisung,” Chenle huffs in frustration. “And really that’s not it. Like I said before, I’m just tired.”
It’s not the whole truth and Jisung knows it, but he has no choice but to drop it.
“Then at least take the bed then, you’re not going to sleep well down there.”
“And have mum murder me because I let our guest sleep on the floor?” Chenle scoffs. “I’d rather take my chances with the floor.”
“There’s enough room for both of us up here,” Jisung insists. His heart is pounding and he doesn’t know why - they’ve done this millions of times back in the dorms when Jisung had been too lazy or too tired to climb up to the top bunk.
Chenle’s body stills. “That’s a terrible idea.”
“Why? It’s not like we haven’t slept in the same bed before.”
“This is different,” Chenle says.
“How?”
“Well for one, you’ve shot up like half a metre and your gangly limbs are going to take up half the bed. And we’re older now, it means something else-”
Jisung rolls his eyes. “All it means is that I don’t want my stupid best friend to wake up in pain tomorrow morning. How are you going to beat me at laser tag if you can’t even walk?”
“Jisung.”
“No. If you don’t sleep in this bed, I will tell your mum that you made me sleep on the floor.”
Chenle sighs, deep enough that he seems to collapse in on himself. “You are such a brat,” he grumbles, but he flops down on the bed next to Jisung.
He must truly be exhausted because it doesn’t take long before Chenle is snoring gently next to him. Jisung’s not so lucky. His nap earlier had been a little too effective and now he’s too alert, too aware of Chenle’s breathing and the heat radiating off Chenle’s sleeping body.
Things get infinitely worse when Chenle rolls over in his sleep, one arm flopping across Jisung’s waist, face smushed against Jisung’s shoulder.
Jisung is suddenly hot, too hot. But he can’t move, he won't move, because he’s a good friend, and this was his idea anyway.
He can feel Chenle’s warm breath against his skin and it makes him feel strange - nervous and hiccupy. It’s not the first time he’s felt that way around Chenle, but it’s different here in Chenle’s childhood bed, with the lights dimmed and Chenle’s lips pressed to his shoulder.
It’s not a good feeling, or a bad one, just something he’s come to associate as a defining characteristic of their friendship. He can’t imagine anyone being around Chenle for any amount of time, and not feeling that strange mix of excitement and disorientation.
Usually Jisung was grateful for the lightness and buoyancy that Chenle’s presence ignited in him, but right now he’s trying to sleep and Chenle’s hair is tickling his nose, and Chenle’s fingers are gripping at his t-shirt, driving him to distraction.
Jisung brushes Chenle’s hair out of his eyes, lets his head sink back into the pillow. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes and tries not to think about anything but the darkness beneath his eyelids, asking it to claim him.
*****
He drifts off eventually, and all too soon he’s woken by Chenle’s sharp whisper.
“Jisung,” he whines. “You have to let go of me.”
“No,” Jisung mumbles, tightening his grip on Chenle. He’s still half asleep, but the sound of his own sleep roughened voice jolts him awake, and suddenly he’s mortified. He’s not sure why he said that, only deeply aware that he shouldn’t have. He jerks away from Chenle, almost rolling off the bed in his panic.
He can almost hear the eye roll in Chenle’s voice. “You’re such a child.”
Jisung’s tired and embarrassed, but he lets Chenle convince him to get out of bed, coaxing him out from beneath the sheets with promises of breakfast.
It’s their last day in Shanghai, bound back to Seoul on an evening flight. Jisung tries to give Chenle some space so that he can spend time with his family, but Chenle just tells him to stop being stupid. He feels a little out of place, but then Chenle’s grandmother pulls Jisung to sit by her, chattering at him in quick-fire Mandarin, while Chenle lets his aunts stroke his hair, and pat at his cheeks.
Jisung likes to pretend he knows Chinese - he hangs out with Renjun and Chenle who have spoken like ten words of Korean to one another, since they met 3 years ago. Sitting there listening to Chenle’s grandma, he’s sure they dumb things down for his benefit, slowing down the pace so that he doesn’t feel left out, because he understands about three words from Chenle’s grandmother’s speech (happy, stick-insect and umbrella - which when taken together make about as much sense as an NCT Dream acrostic poem).
Chenle’s grandmother seems lovely, but Jisung is relieved when Chenle finally extricates himself from the attentions of his aunts, and puts a hand on Jisung’s shoulder.
“Thank God you’re here,” Jisung breathes. “I was worried I was going to have to say something soon.”
Chenle looks down at him. “You would have been fine. You’re good at Chinese.”
Jisung shakes his head vehemently. “No, clearly I am not. I have no idea what we were talking about.”
“She says she likes you.” Chenle grins. He gestures for Jisung to get up. “Now it’s time to go. We’ve still got lots on the schedule.”
Chenle says something to his grandmother (and now Jisung is certain that him and Renjun are holding themselves back for him, because Chenle speaks so quickly Jisung can hardly tell where one word ends and the next begins,) who smiles widely at Jisung, takes his hand in both of hers, and squeezes.
Jisung lets Chenle lead him back to the bedroom, where they pack their bags, and load them into the car, in preparation for their departure. Chenle seems back to normal - maybe he was telling the truth and he was actually just tired the night before. Jisung doesn’t give it much thought, grateful to have his friend back. Whatever the weird distance was, he’d hated it.
Chenle and Jisung jump into Chenle’s family’s other car (it blows Jisung’s mind that they have several), and head off for another day of exploring.
Their last day in Shanghai might even be better than the previous one. Chenle buys him a ridiculously ugly souvenir keyring, decimates him in the shooting game, and then they stock up on Chenle’s favourite snacks to bring back to the rest of the members. All too soon, Chenle is hugging his family goodbye, and they’re thousands of feet in the air, back to Seoul and back to reality.
“So,” Chenle yawns. “What did you think of Shanghai?”
Jisung considers the question. “Well,” he starts slowly. “Our trip has left me both satisfied, and not satisfied.”
Chenle sighs. “Are you trying to make ‘vague’ and ‘nonsensical’ part of your brand? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means-” Jisung pauses, carefully choosing his words, but he doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before Chenle interrupts him.
“You’re going to say something pretentious aren’t you?”
He was.
Chenle knows him far too well.
He was going to say something about how two days wasn’t long enough to truly understand the city, to understand the place that had shaped Chenle and turned him into the person he was. How the night view of Shanghai made him feel both buoyant and mournful because he didn't know whether he’d ever have the chance to see them again. He was going to say a lot of things, but then he looks at Chenle’s fondly exasperated face, and none of that seems important.
He turns toward Chenle. “It means that I’m happy it was me.”
Chenle seems satisfied with Jisung’s response, the corner of his lips twitching as he lays his head against Jisung’s shoulder. “Wake me up when we land.”
* * *
When he gets back to the dorms, everything is chaos. Renjun goes straight for the bag of snacks, picking out his favourites and giving some to Jeno. Jaemin pulls him onto the couch and demands to see photos immediately. Jisung has almost forgotten how loud everyone was.
“Let him breathe,” Jeno says, taking the seat beside Jisung. Renjun balances on the arm rest beside him.
Jaemin dismisses him. “He’ll breathe when he’s dead.”
“Yeah, because that makes sense,” Jeno grumbles.
Jaemin grabs Jisung’s phone, presenting it for him to unlock before going straight to his camera roll.
He begins scrolling through the hundreds of photo’s Jisung had managed to take over the course of the two short days. “That one’s nice,” he comments. “But your photography technique needs work.”
Jisung tries not to roll his eyes.
Suddenly Jaemin stops scrolling, his face breaking into a smile. “Oooh,” he coos at the screen. “The fans are going to love this one. So cute. Our little Chenji.”
“It’s Jichen,” Jisung corrects automatically.
“Whatever,” Jaemin says, reaching over Jisung to pass the phone to Jeno. “The two of you are so cute. The managers knew exactly what they were doing when they put the two of you together.”
And just like that, it’s back. The strange sense that he’s missing something that everyone else seems to see.
Jisung tries to ignore Jaemin’s comment. He’s over this. He knows better than to let his mind linger on pointless things, dissecting things that didn’t need to be dissected. He gets to spend time with Chenle, that’s all that matters.
But he can’t help it. When he gets a thought in his head, he ruminates, like a cow chewing cud, over and over and over again. It’s a bad habit that he can’t seem to shake.
Despite how tired he is, he can’t get to sleep. He spends hours listening to Jaemin’s peaceful breathing before finally deciding he’s had enough. He climbs down from the top bunk, careful not to shake the bed, or make too much noise.
He pulls on his shoes, and a wrinkled hoodie, and takes the elevator to the ground floor. They’re not really supposed to wander around alone, but their managers like them and more often than not they turn a blind eye, letting him and the other members do what they like, with minimum supervision. (Sometimes he thinks that it’s mostly because no one wants to accompany Jeno to his early morning gym sessions).
He’s not sure where he’s going. It’s early enough that there aren’t many people about, but he pulls up his hood anyway, shielding his face from view. He wanders aimlessly for a couple of hours, music blasting through his headphones, until his feet hurt and he decides it’s time to go back. He stops off at a cafe to pick up coffee for Jaemin, lemon tea for Renjun and some kind of disgusting green tea and cream concoction for Jeno.
They’re all already awake by the time he gets back to the dorm.
“Where were you?” Jaemin demands, by way of greeting.
“Couldn’t sleep so I went for a walk,” Jisung says vaguely. He holds up the paper drinks tray. “I bought drinks.”
Jaemin’s eyes light up at the sight of the poisonous looking Americano that Jisung hands to him. “Are you ok?,” he asks, taking a sip. “Why couldn’t you sleep?”
“I don’t know,” Jisung says vaguely. “Probably the time difference?”
Renjun frowns. “It’s only an hour’s difference.”
“Lemon tea?” Jisung says hopefully, holding out Renjun’s drink to him. Renjun’s still frowning, but he accepts the drink, and doesn’t ask any more questions.
“You’re acting even weirder than usual,” Jeno says quietly. Jisung almost jumps. He hadn’t even noticed Jeno appearing at his side.
“Everything’s fine,” Jisung says quickly.
“That’s good to know, but I didn’t ask,” Jeno says, helping himself to the last drink from the tray. “But if there was something wrong, Jaemin’s always available, and more than happy to indulge your teenage angst.”
* * *
Jisung holds out as long as he can, but it’s 11pm and his mind refuses to quiet, so he gently pushes open the door to the bedroom.
Jisung clears his throat.
Jeno looks up from his phone. “Yeah? What is it? I’m kind of busy.”
“You’re playing games,” Jisung says. “Not exactly high priority.” He plonks down on the floor, stretching his long legs out in front of him, making himself comfortable. “I wanted to talk to you.”
Jeno shakes his head. “No, no. Didn’t I tell you Jaemin was available. Jaemin not Jeno. Very different. His room is next door. You would know, you live there.”
Jisung plucks a stray fibre from the sleeve of his jumper. “I think there’s something weird about me and Chenle,” he states.
Jeno’s eyebrows shoot up. “There’s so much weird stuff about the both of you. Where did you want to start?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what is it?”
“Well,” Jisung starts. “Lately I’ve been thinking.”
“That’s dangerous.”
Jisung ignores him. “I’ve been thinking about how everyone keeps putting me and Chenle together and I was wondering why that could be.”
“Don’t mistake this for interest, but is there a reason you were thinking about this? I thought you liked being paired with Chenle?”
“Jaemin brought it up. More than once. And then I realised he had a point. I know that you and Jaem end up together a lot, but you’ve had Renjun and us on JSMR, you were paired with Renjun on NCT Life, and you’ve done Vlives, all four of you. But with me and Chenle, it’s like we’re a package deal and I know there has to be a reason why that is. SM doesn’t do anything without a reason. Chenle says that it’s because people like watching us together. But why? What is our selling point?”
Jeno looks suddenly uncomfortable. “Jaemin is in his room, you know. Just next door like I said.”
Jisung glares at him.
Jeno raises his eyes to the ceiling. “What did I do to deserve this?” he mutters to himself. He takes a deep breath, and looks Jisung in the eye. “Ok,” he says. “Well, you know how being a successful idol isn’t just about singing and dancing? And how personality and group dynamics are also important?”
Jisung nods.
“That’s why it’s always just you and Chenle. The unique relationship there. You’re a popular grouping because people like how you play off one another, how you talk to each other. It’s obvious you care about each other, and people are drawn to that.”
“Wait,” Jisung frowns. “They like our friendship? That’s it?”
There’s a pained expression on Jeno’s face and he looks like he’s regretting every decision that’s brought him to this point. “Not exactly.”
“Then I’m not sure what you mean.”
Jeno’s eyes are wide. “Please don’t make me explain it.”
Jisung throws up his hands in confusion. He waits for Jeno to continue.
Jeno sighs again. “I did not sign up for this,” he says, voice flat with resignation. “Why couldn’t you just have gone to Jaemin?”
“Just say what you mean” Jisung demands. He’s getting tired of people being vague and evasive. All he wants is a straight answer.
“Fine,” Jeno huffs. “You were kind of right. But it’s not your friendship they like. I mean - I’m sure that’s part of it - but I said they like your relationship”
“Our relationship,” Jisung repeats.
Jeno gives him a meaningful look.
Suddenly it hits Jisung. “Oh.”
Jeno nods. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
“But that’s ridiculous,” Jisung says. “We’re not together.”
“That doesn’t really matter. It’s enough that the possibility of it is there.”
Jisung feels his cheeks flush. There is no possibility. “I can’t believe this. So they think I’m in love with Chenle.”
Jeno shrugs. “Don’t worry too much about it. You can’t control what fans think.”
“But,” Jisung sputters, his head reeling. “I’m not in love with him. We’re just friends.”
He’s not in love with Chenle. He’s never been in love with Chenle. They’re best friends. They’ve always been best friends. Nothing more. Sure, Chenle’s pretty. But that’s an objective judgement. They’re all pretty - it’s part of the job requirement. And yes, he likes the way Chenle smells, and his terrible laugh, and the buoyant feeling in his stomach when Chenle smiles at him. But that’s only because Chenle is his first friend, and his best friend - the best person. That’s all this is. It’s not love. It couldn't be love.
“It’s ok, Ji,” Jeno says calmly. “People get a kick out of seeing Mark and Haechan together, and Jaemin and I have our own share of fans. It’s not a big deal, because we know there’s nothing to it.”
Jisung doesn’t answer. His skin feels tight, like it’s suddenly two sizes too small.
Jisung’s silence is deafening. Clearly concerned by Jisung’s reaction, Jeno comes over, and crouches down in front of him. “But,” he says gently. “If there was something to it, that would be ok as well.”
Jisung suddenly feels like he can’t breathe, like there’s not enough air in the room and his lungs are about to burst. He feels lightheaded, almost doesn’t recognise his voice as he scrambles up from the floor and tells Jeno he has to go.
* * *
If he thought talking to Jeno was going to help, he was wrong. So incredibly wrong.
They’re all wrong. The fans are wrong. Jeno - he’s not sure what Jeno thinks, but he’s probably wrong too. Everyone was wrong. He wasn’t in love with Chenle. If he was in love with Chenle, he’d want to shower him with flowers, get matching couple outfits or something.
He doesn’t want any of that.
He just wants to curl up on the sofa, his hand tangled in Chenle’s hair, or smash a snowball into the back of Chenle’s neck, just to see his cheeks glow pink with the cold. He wants Chenle to laugh at his dumb jokes, and for Chenle to whisper his worries in Jisung’s ear.
Now he couldn’t even have that. He pointedly ignores Jeno’s looks of concern, does everything in his power to avoid ending up alone with him. Things are even worse with Chenle. He just about flees the room every time Chenle offers him as little as a high five. He can’t bear being next to Chenle when all that he can think about are his sweaty palms, and the sick twist of his stomach.
On the third day, after he only narrowly manages to escape being cornered by Jeno in the kitchen, he decides he’s had enough. After a tense dinner, he holes himself up in his room, determined to see what these clearly delusional fans were seeing between him and Chenle.
He settles on Jaemin’s bed, laptop perched on his knees. It takes him almost twenty minutes to work up the courage to open up the computer. Finally, he takes a deep breath, pulls up Google and, feeling like a complete idiot, begins to type.
He ignores the forums, gives wide berth to the fanfiction, and ends up on Youtube. Video wouldn’t lie. He’d see exactly what the fans saw when they looked at him and Chenle.
There are pages and pages of results. He picks one at random - it’s almost 15 minutes long, looks recent, and doesn’t have any unnecessary background music. It’s just him and Chenle being Jisung and Chenle.
Three minutes in, Jisung realises he’s made a mistake. Onscreen his face is soft, and he feels almost uncomfortable watching it, like he’s encroaching on a private moment that isn’t meant for anyone else. Which is ridiculous because that’s his face and he has every right to look at it as much as he wants.
The Jisung in front of him won’t stop touching Chenle - stroking his arm, fixing his hair. Why can’t he keep his hands to himself. He lights up every time Chenle compliments him. He’s obvious and embarrassing, and even just watching these moments, Jisung can recall the ghost of every feeling that’s so clear on his onscreen counterpart’s face.
He’s about to rewind to the part showing their Life Graph interview, where he tells Chenle he hopes he’ll always keep getting happier, and proudly pats the seat next to him after Chenle is done with his segment. He has that stupid look on his face the entire time.
Suddenly the door to his room bursts open.
“Alright, spill. What’s going on with you?”
Jisung jumps so hard he almost hits his head on the base of the top bunk. His laptop skids off his knees, and Jisung scrambles for it, slamming the lid shut, before anyone has a chance to see what he was watching.
Renjun stares at him in shock.
“Ok,” he says slowly. “Jeno was right. You are being weirder than usual. He asked me to come check on you. Everyone’s worried. Jaemin thinks that you don’t like his food, because you barely touched dinner. And I have about eighteen texts from Chenle whining about how you’re avoiding him. What’s going on with you?”
“Everything’s fine,” Jisung says quickly, for the second time in almost as many days. His fingers tighten their grip on the laptop.
Renjun doesn’t seem to believe him. “What were you looking at on your computer?” Renjun asks suspiciously.
“Porn,” Jisung blurts out. “Lots of porn.”
It’s the only think that comes to mind, and it’s better that Renjun thinks he’s just a horny teenage boy, than for him to know the real reason why Jisung’s clutching his laptop protectively to his chest.
“Porn,” Renjun repeats, an amused glint in his eyes that makes Jisung’s blood run cold. He’s seen that look before, and nothing good has ever come of it. “Let’s see then.”
“No!” Jisung hugs the laptop tighter. “It’s just a whole lot of nudity. A lot of sweating. Some grunting.” He’s babbling, his voice a full octave higher than usual.
“Come on, Jisungie,” Renjun coaxes. “No need to be so weird about it. It’s natural to be curious.”
“There were vegetables involved,” Jisung says weakly - a last ditch attempt to salvage his dignity. He knows it’s already too late. Renjun is coming toward him. He’s got that look in his eye, and Jisung knows he’s done for.
Renjun may be small, but he fights dirty and within minutes he has Jisung pinned with a casual chokehold, the laptop balanced on his knees, the video Jisung had been watching pulled up onscreen.
Jisung wants to disappear.
“Oh Jisungie,” Renjun says slowly. “So you’ve finally realised.”
Jisung wants to play dumb, give Renjun big, confused eyes, but he knows and Renjun knows, and Renjun knows he knows, and there isn’t any point in playing that game.
“I watched the videos,” Jisung says quietly. “There are so many of them.”
Renjun releases his from his grip, gently rubbing the back of Jisung’s neck. “I’m not surprised.
Jisung slumps forward, turning his head to look at Renjun. “I don’t look at him like that, do I?” he asks desperately.
Renjun laughs softly. “You watched the videos yourself. Would you ever believe me if I said no?”
“I can’t believe this,” Jisung says dejectedly. He feels like a complete idiot, for not noticing earlier. “I thought that I felt that way around him because he was my friend, but then Jaemin got into my head - Chenle and Jisung always together, everyone loves Chenji - and I started wondering why that was. And this-” he jabs a finger at the computer where onscreen Jisung is now softly caressing Chenle’s hand (does that boy have no shame??) “This is why. It’s because they think I’m in love with him.” He’s starting to sound hysterical. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. “And I’m not sure they’re entirely wrong.”
“Wait,” A chilling thought enters his mind, and Jisung feels the blood rush from his face. He turns to Renjun, whose expression is unusually sympathetic. “What about you? Did you know?” he demands. “Did everyone else know?”
Renjun shrugs. “There were signs. But I don’t think any of us knew for certain.”
Jisung waits, but Renjun doesn’t continue.
Jisung huffs in frustration. “What signs?”
Renjun sighs. “I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you didn’t talk to anyone for fours days after he moved out, or the fact that you have a photo of him as your lock screen.”
“Yuta has Mark as his background, and no one seems to suspect him to be harbouring a secret crush,” Jisung says defensively.
“Yuta has a dopey, meme photo of Mark. You have a selfie Chenle took with your phone as your lock screen. There’s a bit of a difference.”
“He looks pretty,” Jisung sulks.
“Exhibit C. You think he’s pretty,” Renjun points out smugly. Jisung kind of wants to hit him.
“So you all suspected that I had more-than-friendly feelings for Chenle, and yet no one thought it might be a good idea to tell me,” Jisung says bitterly. “Great friends you are.”
Renjun squeezes Jisung’s knee. “Well, I’m not trying to make you feel worse right now, but I don’t think any of us realised you were quite so stupid until a couple of days ago. We thought you knew.”
“Well I didn’t,” Jisung says.
There’s another worry blooming in his mind, and he’s almost too afraid to ask. But the stress of not knowing might just kill him, and if anyone knows the answer, it’d be Renjun.
“Do you think Chenle knows?” he asks, his voice small.
Renjun pauses, face turning thoughtful. “I don’t know.”
“He hasn’t said anything to you?”
“He wouldn’t do that to you Jisungie. If he knew you loved him and he didn’t feel the same way, he wouldn’t have said anything. He wouldn’t do anything to make things harder for you.”
Jisung nods. Renjun has a point. In all his panic, he’d forgotten that humiliating one-sided crush aside, Chenle was still his best friend and he wouldn’t do anything to embarrass Jisung - not about anything serious anyway.
“But really, I have no idea what Chenle knows or what he’s thinking,” Renjun continues. “He’s hard to read. He’s been in the spotlight since he was very young, and he knows how to hide things. He lets people see what he wants, and everything else is locked behind that big smile of his.” Renjun’s eyes twinkle. “That one you like so much.”
“Stop it,” Jisung sulks. “Don’t tease.”
Renjun pulls Jisung into his side, squeezing him tightly. “Someone has to. You need to loosen up. This is not that serious. You have a crush on Chenle. So what?”
“So what?” Jisung says blankly. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. How am I supposed to act around him?”
“The same way you always have,” Renjun says. “Nothing’s changed. Except now you know.”
“Maybe. But it feels like everything has changed,” Jisung sighs, toying with the hem of his jumper. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to tell him, or keep pretending everything’s still the same.”
Renjun rubs soothing circles against Jisung’s back. “You’ll figure it out, and things will work out one way or another. They always do,” he assures Jisung. “Either he feels the same and everything will fall into place, or he doesn’t and you’ll eventually get over it.”
“Like you with Haechan?”
Renjun smiles. “You noticed that, did you?”
“I’m not completely stupid.”
“We’ll just have to agree to disagree on that,” Renjun says. “But yeah, exactly like that. It was hard for a while, but I’m fine now, and I’m happy to have him as a friend.”
“I could probably be happy as Chenle’s friend,” Jisung says thoughtfully. It’s not the worst outcome.
“I don’t think he’d give you much of a choice. I think you’re kind of stuck with that one.”
Jisung face splits into a smile, and it’s the first genuine one that’s graced his face in days.
Renjun pretends to gag. “You’re so ridiculous,” he tells Jisung, but he’s smiling too. He gets up off the bed. “Now please text Chenle back, because if I get one more notification from him, my phone is going to combust. His sad WeChats are really bringing me down.”
“Ok,” Jisung nods. “I might just do that.”
Renjun gives him a stern look. “I’ll know if you don’t.”
“Goodnight, hyung.”
“Night, Jisung.”
As soon as the door clicks shut, Jisung pulls out his phone.
It’s less than two minutes before it pings with a reply.
* * *
It doesn’t take long for Jisung to accept that the way he feels about Chenle, had always been different to the way he feels about the rest of his friends. The thought of kissing Jaemin makes him want to retch, but when he imagines kissing Chenle, butterflies erupt in his stomach.
He can’t believe how quickly his feelings stop being something terrifying, and simply become part of him. It’s almost as though he’s always known, but he hadn’t been ready to deal with the complications that came with his developing feelings. But he’s ready now, and it’s a relief to be able to put a name to the feelings that had made him feel so unbalanced before.
So eventually things go back to normal. Mostly.
Everytime Chenle smiles his stomach drops, and it’s like he’s on one of those rollercoasters he’d refused to go on Shanghai. It feels exactly how Chenle had described them - somehow both terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.
Jisung lets himself feel it all - cherishes every flip of his stomach, every flush of his skin. He lets himself look at Chenle - really look. Those high cheekbones, full lips, his sharp little teeth.
He doesn’t worry about getting caught - he hadn’t been subtle before, he wasn’t about to start now.
Chenle doesn’t seem to mind. He still sticks close to Jisung, drags him to movies, takes him out to eat. Jisung even sits in on a video chat with Chenle’s grandma (apparently she’s taken a real liking to him). They sleep in the living room together every time Chenle stays over in the dorm, and bicker about stupid things.
Jisung is happy, and everything is perfect.
Almost.
There’s just one shadow on Jisung’s perfect happiness. He’s never deliberately hidden anything from Chenle, and it goes against everything inside him to keep something so momentous from his best friend. It feels so foreign to him to have this secret and not share it with Chenle. It’s eating him up inside, and Jisung’s not sure how much longer he can keep it up.
He doesn’t plan to tell Chenle.
But like with a lot of things in his life, it just kind of happens.
They’re on the couch, Chenle’s head in Jisung’s lap as he watches something on his phone. He’s invited himself to sleep over again. It’s been happening more often lately. Sometimes Jisung wonders why that might be, but he’s too happy about it to question it too much.
He brushes the hair from Chenle’s eyes.
Chenle looks up at him and smiles. “I’m so glad you’re back.”
Jisung cocks his head in confusion. “I haven’t been anywhere?”
Chenle shakes his head in exasperation. “Not literally. But things got weird for a while. You spent way too much time with Renjun, and there was something off between us. But being here like this, this is nice. So whatever it was, I’m happy you’re back to normal.
It slips out before he has a chance to stop it. “Not quite.”
Chenle frowns. “What does that mean?”
Jisung considers lying, but lying to Chenle feels impossible.
He pauses the song playing on his IPhone. Chenle looks at him, worry creasing his forehead.
“Chenle,” Jisung says slowly. “Have you ever thought that I might be in love with you?”
Chenle freezes. “What?” He pulls himself upright, staring at Jisung, mouth hanging open.
“Because I was told that I might be.”
“Who told you that?”
“Renjun, maybe Jeno - but he was really vague about it, thousands of people on the internet.”
Chenle looks up at him. “And what do you think about that?” His expression is unreadable.
Jisung shrugs. He’s trying for cool, nonchalant, but his heart is pounding. “At first I thought that they were all crazy, but then I realised that perhaps they might have a point. I didn’t know what to do about it, and that’s why everything got a bit messed up for a while.”
Chenle doesn’t say anything, just stares down at his hands. He’s gripping his phone tightly, his already pale knuckles turning bloodless.
Jisung’s not sure what kind of reaction he was expecting, but he was expecting some kind of reaction. He’s never seen Chenle so silent.
“Can you please say something?” Jisung says, nudging Chenle gently with his shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’m not expecting you to feel the same way. That’s not why I’m telling you. I just wanted you to know that the weirdness you mentioned had nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me.”
Chenle takes a breath. “Are you sure?” he says quietly.
It’s not what Jisung’s expecting. “What?”
“You say you think you’re in love with me, but are you sure about that?” Chenle’s words are steady, but there’s something raw and vulnerable in his tone, and he’s having trouble meeting Jisung’s eyes. “You can’t just say things like that if you’re not sure.”
Absentmindedly, Jisung reaches for Chenle’s hand. He tries not to feel hurt when Chenle’s hand jerks out of reach.
“I could not be more sure,” Jisung says earnestly. “It took me a while, but I know how I feel.”
Chenle’s breath shudders through him. “I’m scared to believe you,” he says. “You might change your mind.”
The words sting, but it isn’t enough to dampen the growing hope blooming in his chest, because Chenle’s fear means that what he feels for Chenle, might not be as one-sided as he’d thought.
“I won’t change my mind,” Jisung says firmly. “This isn’t something that I dreamed up out of nowhere. My feelings aren’t sudden, they were always there, I just finally have a name for what I feel. Is that so hard to believe?”
Chenle looks at him thoughtfully. “No, not really. But it’s terrifying to let myself believe it.”
Jisung blinks. “Why?”
“It would hurt so much if you suddenly realised you were wrong about how you felt about me,” Chenle says simply. “I just want you to be sure.”
“I am sure,” Jisung tells him. “What can I do to make you believe that?”
Chenle smiles softly, and pats Jisung’s cheek. “You don’t have to do anything. Just take a little time to figure things out.”
“I don’t need time,” Jisung grumbles.
“But I do,” Chenle says.
“Then I guess I can wait.”
Jisung hesitates. “You’re not going to disappear on me are you?”
Chenle snorts. “Not a chance.” He pauses, “But I think it might be good if we gave each other a little breathing room. You should spend some time with the others, just to make sure you’re not confusing your feelings.”
“I’m not,” Jisung sulks. “I already know I don’t want to kiss Jeno.”
Chenle’s mouth pops open in surprise. “You want to kiss me?”
“I thought that was obvious.”
The corner of Chenle’s mouth twitches. “Well that’s good to know.”
“Is that enough proof for you?”
Chenle grins. He moves to get up from the sofa. “I should probably go and sleep in Renjun’s room.”
Jisung pouts. “I don’t like that idea. You should stay here with me. I can sing you to sleep.”
“Main vocalist Jisung Park, always ready to show off,” he says fondly.
“Only for you.”
Chenle’s cheeks flush. “You are shameless.”
Jisung looks up, with pleading eyes. “Stay.”
Chenle sighs, but sinks back onto the sofa, cushions dipping under his weight. “This is a terrible idea,” he mutters to himself.
Jisung loves terrible ideas.
* * *
Nothing really changes after Jisung’s dramatic confession. He and Chenle still see each other all the time. It’s just that Chenle starts spending a lot more of his free time with Jeno, and Jisung follows Renjun around like a puppy. It feels a bit alien not to be attached to Chenle’s side, but Chenle had said he needed space, and Jisung respected him enough to give it.
He can’t even bring himself to be too upset about the whole thing. More than once, he catches Chenle staring at him from across the room, smiling shyly when he realises Jisung has noticed. He holds onto Jisung’s hand a little longer than necessary when they take their final bows onstage. They’re little things, but every day Chenle grows bolder and more confident, and Jisung knows he won’t have to wait for him much longer.
By the time the Dream Concert rolls around, Jisung’s on edge from the waiting. The red carpet is torture - Chenle looks so good in his collared black shirt and tailored suit. Standing next to him is an exercise in self control.
The stage is exhilarating. They perform Goand We Go Up and even after three years Jisung still can’t believe this is his job.
He feels like he’s floating, high off the cheers from the crowd, the energy pulsing inside his chest. His heart pounds as he follows Jaemin offstage, deliberately slowing his steps, letting the distance between them grow.
Chenle is behind him. Jisung stops suddenly, grabbing for Chenle’s hand, and pulling him behind an enormous speaker.
“What are you doing?” Chenle asks, brows knitted together in confusion.
He looks down at Chenle, sweaty and flushed from the stage. “You were amazing,” he breathes.
Chenle’s face clears. He grins. Jisung’s excitement is infectious. “So were you.”
“You were better,” Jisung protests, ignoring the warmth that’s pooling in his stomach at Chenle’s compliment.
“You might be right about that,” Chenle teases.
Jisung doesn’t have it in him to argue, because Chenle onstage, Chenle offstage, every version of him, had Jisung wrapped around his little finger. He can’t tear his eyes away.
Chenle looks up at him, grin wavering. “Stop looking at me like that,” he says softly.
“This is how I always look at you,” Jisung says. It might be the adrenalin from their performance, but he feels suddenly brave. “It’s not my fault you didn’t notice. Everyone else seemed to.”
Chenle looks down at his feet.
There isn’t much space between them to begin with, but Jisung takes an incremental step forward. He reaches for Chenle’s hand, and to his surprise, Chenle doesn’t pull away.
Jisung swallows hard. “Do you believe me now? That my feelings are real and aren’t going away anytime soon?”
“Yeah, I do,” Chenle says, looking up at him. “What about you - can you forgive me?”
Jisung frowns. “Forgive you for what?”
Chenle shrugs. “For not trusting that you knew how you felt. For being too afraid to believe that you felt the same way.”
“There’s nothing to forgive,” Jisung says firmly.
“Ok. If you’re sure.”
Jisung look down at their entwined hands, brings them up to his lips, and presses a gentle kiss against Chenle’s knuckles, before carefully untangling their fingers.
His hand cups Chenle’s jaw. Chenle’s lips tremble, and Jisung’s chest tightens with anticipation.
“You’re hesitating,” Chenle observes.
“I’m nervous,” Jisung admits.
“With me?” Chenle asks incredulously. “Unbelievable.” Chenle's eyes crinkle, and he pushes himself up on his toes, and captures Jisung’s lips with his. It’s clumsy and awkward - it’s the first time they’ve kissed, and Jisung doesn’t have much experience anyway. But it’s Chenle, and Jisung’s more than willing to keep trying until they get it right.
When he pulls away, Chenle brushes the hair off Jisung’s forehead and smiles. He looks so beautiful Jisung can’t help himself, he leans down, pressing another kiss to Chenle’s lips. It’s better this time, Chenle’s hands on his shoulders, his neck; his hands around Chenle’s waist, pulling him in as close as possible.
Jisung’s having trouble thinking clearly.
Suddenly Jaemin’s voice cuts through the brain fog. “Where have those two gotten to?” Jaemin complains. “They know we’re supposed to leave in fifteen!”
“Relax,” Jeno tells him in a soothing tone. “They can’t have disappeared.”
Jisung starts to pull away, but Chenle’s grip tightens.
Jisung looks down at him in confusion. “What are you doing? You heard Jaemin, it’s time to leave.”
Chenle’s eyes are twinkling. “Just another ten minutes.,” he tells Jisung, one hand resting against his chest. Jisung’s heart pounds steadily beneath his palm. “We’ve waited long enough. Now it’s their turn.”
Jisung’s lip twitches as Chenle pulls him in for another kiss.
It’s hard to argue with that.