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Artificial sunlight never feels as good as the real thing.
Then again, anything artificial will always be hollow and subpar in comparison to what it’s trying to mimic.
For Jeno, artificial sunshine is the worst of them all, because whenever he closes his eyes he can still feel the warm sun on his skin as he lay in the sands of the tropical planet Caldus. Back then there were no worries, and he could relax until the sun began to kiss the horizon with the man he loved in his arms.
Now though, that memory is so distant that the artificial sunlight in his bedroom is like poking an open wound, and Jeno is beyond in need of healing.
After forcing himself up from his bed and downing a shot of Quick-Go, Jeno makes the usual morning walk from his station's apartment block to the main hub. The skyway looks out onto the barron moon they inhabit, stars still shining and moon rocks still gathering moon dust. It’s a typical rotational turn, and his watch tells him it would be an Earth Tuesday.
Jeno takes the elevator down a few floors to his assigned level. The nice robotic lady tells him he’s arrived at the Specialist Level, and the badge on his blazer blinks blue as he steps out of the brightly lit metal box.
The quiet hum of the elevator is overpowered by the bustle of people trying to get from one place to another. Agents yell into their wrist comms before disappearing into thin air, dark sunglasses hiding dead eyes of people far removed from the rest of the universe. When you don’t ascribe to the laws of time you’re plagued to a rather lonely existence, because you’re always needed elsewhere to solve the time taker’s problems.
Today’s problem for Jeno to fix is a mystery, because it’s his first week back on the job after being forced to take leave for an injury sustained on a mission. As he walks through the stark white hallways, the agents and aliens he passes all give him surprised looks that seep through the cover of even the darkest lenses. Everyone’s surprised to see him, and honestly, he’s surprised he’s back too.
After his cover being blown on Caldus, Jeno was lucky that the blast to his face only grazed the side of his head, singeing his hair and unfortunately taking the eye in that side of his skull. Thanks to modern technology, he’s had it replaced with a robotic one that functions even better than a real eye, giving him real time diagnostics of his surroundings and weather updates. But he’s grateful for the sunglasses to hide his silvery eye that doesn’t match his other brown one, because it’s just another reminder to people of what happened, and Jeno just wants to lay low.
As he enters the ops room the blinding fluorescents are replaced with glowing floor lights, the large screen in the front of the room displaying different files and locations and agent assignments. Jeno stops at the top of the staircase to search the screen for his name, but he doesn’t see it, and his eyes roll in realization that he’s being forced to talk to his higher up before he can get his work for the week. They probably want to make sure he’s all there before they throw him back in the field, but he’s had enough mental evaluations to make a man never want to even think about feeling another emotion ever again.
Accepting his defeat, he takes the stairs down to the bottom where the head Timeline Specialist sits in his office with impossibly dark tinted windows. Jeno only knows he’s in there because the light outside his door is green, so he knocks, waits a moment, and then lets himself in.
Inside the office it’s dimly lit like the ops room, and the head Timeline Specialist, or as Jeno knows him more casually, Johnny, sits at his desk with his three computer screens all displaying different things. His blazer is crumpled on the back of his chair, and his tie is loosened around his neck. Typically one would assume their boss is stressed in such a state, but Johnny just doesn’t really care.
“Oh Jeno, good, you’re here,” Johnny says as he spins in his chair, clasping his hands together in front of him with a smile. “I was hoping you’d get the message.”
Jeno snorts out a laugh at that, shaking his head good-naturedly as he pulls his glasses off. Johnny is a good boss, if not a little bit of a jackass. “Oh you mean the message where I had no choice but to ask you about my assignment?” Jeno retorts with a raised brow, a smile softening his own features.
Johnny spins back in his chair, grabbing a holo pad from off his desk before standing to face Jeno more directly. Jeno takes a step closer, reaching out for the holopad, but Johnny pulls it out of reach before he can get his hands on it. “Not yet,” he says with a flash of uncertainty in his eyes, and immediately Jeno gets suspicious. “I didn’t put your assignment up for everyone to see because it’s a bit… confidential, but there’s nobody else I could have on the job but you.”
Jeno narrows his eyes, holding his hand out to silently ask for Johnny to give him the holopad, and eventually the older man concedes. Jeno snatches it away, waving his comm watch over the screen to transfer the data to him before tapping the device on. Immediately a file pops up, projecting in a perfect little hologram of place last seen, most recent crimes committed, and possible leads. What’s missing is a name and a picture, and Jeno shoots his gaze back up to meet Johnny’s eyes.
“Stopping the earth’s first moon landing, destroying the second sun on Mobus, kidnapping the princess of Elemar? Who the hell is this guy?” The crimes themselves are ridiculous, stuff easily stopped and prevented by time agents, mostly just annoying and meant to cause a ruckus. Jeno can’t think of anyone who’d have a reason to bother the time agents, less so with such juvenile things.
Johnny chews on his bottom lip in thought, bringing his hand up to scratch at his jaw as he looks down at the holopad and back up to Jeno’s confused expression. Jeno isn’t stupid, he can sense when someone is stalling, so he hands the holopad back to Johnny in complete silence, not giving him any room to change the subject as he waits.
Johnny just sighs in defeat, setting the holopad back down on his desk, keeping his back to Jeno. The silence only goes on for a few more moments, before Johnny finally gives in. “I know the story you gave the debrief bots was bullshit, and I think I’m the only one that does.” Johnny looks over his shoulder slightly, Jeno only able to see his shadowed profile in the dimly lit room. It feels a little too much like those old Earth mystery movies that Jeno sometimes watches in his room. However what he doesn’t anticipate is for the theatrics to continue on after that, and the next words out of Johnny’s mouth nearly knock him on his ass.
“After what happened… while you were healing and we were all cleaning up the aftermath,” Johnny turns around finally, facing Jeno with a determined expression. “Na went rogue, and he’s been committing timeline crimes to get our attention. Get your attention, I’m guessing. Doyoung doesn’t know it’s him, and he also doesn’t know what happened between you two and I plan to keep it that way.”
Jeno startles as if Johnny had slapped him, bile rising in his throat at the mere mention of the forbidden name. He isn’t sure what he’s even supposed to say to that, because as far as he knew, everyone just thought Na fucked up his mission and Jeno got put on leave. After Jeno woke up in the hospital the first thing he asked was Where’s Jaemin? and he was simply told that he’d disappeared. At the time Jeno felt betrayed, hurt beyond belief and missing his fucking eye. Jaemin sold him out and then bailed, didn’t even bother to come back to see if he was okay, and somehow that hurt worst of all.
“I know, I know,” Johnny says with his best attempt at a soothing voice, holding his hands up as if Jeno were holding a blaster to his chest. “But you’re the only one who can do this. Everyone else has it out for Na for what they think he did—”
“And you think I don’t?” Jeno snaps, immediately regretting it and slumping his shoulders in a silent apology. “If you know so much then you would know that he left me to die back there. I don’t exactly have fuzzy feelings for the guy.”
Johnny reaches a hand up to scratch at the back of his neck, eyes darting around the room to avoid Jeno’s stare. “Yeah, well…” he trails off, shrugging slightly with the most guilty expression Jeno has ever seen.
“Yeah, well, what? ” Jeno presses through gritted teeth, already feeling uneasy just from talking about Jaemin, and he doesn’t like being strung along further.
“Before he disappeared he came to me. Was all freaked out that he got you hurt but said he had to bail or else it’d make things worse for you. He didn’t tell me the specifics, he was mostly just frantic, and when I told him he’d probably be put on probation and the two of you held on trial for corruption and… inter-relations, he got up and bolted. I haven’t seen him since.”
Jeno’s jaw tightens uncomfortably, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as he tries to keep from blowing up. He knows this isn’t Johnny’s fault, that Jaemin confided in him because he’s someone they both trust, and now Johnny seems to still be looking out for him. The idea is insane and quite frankly fucked up that Jeno should have to find the man who almost ended his career, and his life, but if what Johnny says is even remotely true then… Jeno knows less than he thought.
“Jeno, please. If I send someone else after him then they’ll bring him back and he’ll be arrested. They won’t let him stand trial at this point, and even if they did I’m pretty sure ‘I wanted my boyfriend back’ isn’t gonna excuse him of his crimes.” Johnny laughs at his own joke, but upon seeing Jeno’s complete lack of amusement, snaps his mouth shut. “Look, you don’t have to. I understand if you really just want him to waste away in a cryo-cell, but I asked you before going to headquarters because I know you don’t want that.” He gives Jeno an expectant look, and this time it’s Jeno who can’t hold his gaze, and suddenly the metal floor becomes very interesting.
Jeno let’s them linger in silence for a bit, as if to convey that he’s trying to make up his mind, but he already knows what he’s going to do.
If he goes after Jaemin himself, Jaemin will stop whatever he’s doing, Jeno will get to knock him on his ass, and then he can tell Jaemin he never wants to see him again and to disappear for good. It seems like a solid plan, and Jeno is so convinced by it that he is even able to lie to himself about his true intentions.
“Okay,” he says as he lifts his head, giving Johnny a single nod before slipping his glasses back on. “I’ll find him, but don’t expect anything. I’ll decide what happens to him.”
Johnny tries and fails to hide the way his features turn up in the most relieved and excited grin. Jeno thinks he looks like a kid on Christmas, and he kind of wants to hit him too.
“Everything I know about him I put in that holopad, and I’m going to destroy it as soon as you leave.” Johnny plops back into his luxurious desk chair, mimicking the position he was in when Jeno first entered the room, and gives Jeno the same gratified expression. “And thank you,” he adds, “for doing this. I know it’s not easy but… I think it’s the right thing to do.”
Jeno scoffs, because Jaemin and doing the right thing are not exactly synonymous, but he knows what Johnny means.
If there’s any chance that Jaemin is even a little bit innocent in this, that it was all a big misunderstanding, then he deserves to at least be given a chance to explain himself.
And a good, solid punch to his perfect fucking face.
★彡
3 Rotations, Approximately 5 Earth Days, Later
As much as Jeno is grateful to be on a planet that actually properly orbits it’s sun, what he isn’t grateful for is the fact that it’s a fucking arctic planet.
Planet Gelum, known for its beautiful auroras and crystallized capital city and resilient organic life forms, but also for being negative bajillion degrees all year round.
Okay, that’s an exaggeration, but it’s cold enough to freeze your snot before it even leaves your nose, and Jeno has to laugh at the irony that the last time he saw Jaemin they were bathed in a tropical sun surrounded by lush greenery.
That is, if Jaemin’s even here.
Jeno has checked into his hotel, and sits in his gorgeous room with white marble walls and crystal floors that shimmer like the rest of the buildings in the city. His bed is all fluffy and white, matching the fur color of the natives that were the sole inhabitants of the planet before the No’Rin settled here, bringing their advanced technology and ability to mine the planet's natural mineral deposits that just so happened to be an indestructible, iridescent crystal. Gelum is beautiful, even if it is freezing all the time, and Jeno almost mourns the nice time he could’ve had here if not for his mission.
Right, he thinks to himself. The mission.
Jeno has a contact he’s supposed to meet for dinner, apparently the guy saw Jaemin enter the planet, and has yet to see him again. Jeno’s been having him monitor flight logs for unusual things, but nothing has jumped out at him, so it’s likely that Jaemin still hides here. If not in the city, then perhaps out in the caves where some of the yeti-like natives still linger, happy to keep to themselves and their families.
It’s a lot to think about, and though Jeno feels like he should be overwhelmed with such a large task for his first week back on the job, something about it feels very natural. Perhaps Jeno’s love of his job is enough to make this bearable, or perhaps the prospect of seeing Jaemin again is smoothing out the edges more than he’d like to admit. He thinks it should make him nervous, but mostly he just wants answers, and he wants Jaemin gone for good so he can move on.
Jeno spends the rest of his evening in his room, reading over the different case files for the mysterious Timeline Jinx as he is oh-so-affectionately known as by headquarters. He thinks it’s a bit funny that they don’t know it’s Jaemin, and that Johnny is the only one who does. Jaemin is extremely good at being hidden, and proved as such when he hid with Jeno on Caldus. He was there for his own mission on the other side of the planet, but he and Jeno had a place to stay that met in the middle, both there for long haul assignments that required close monitoring to make sure the planet’s timeline didn’t lead them to a world war. Jaemin was responsible for one kingdom and Jeno for the other, but working together on missions unless assigned is strictly forbidden.
Even more forbidden? Fornication. And he and Jaemin had passed the casual sex stage months prior, both knowing the layout of each other’s apartments in the dark as if they’d imprinted maps in their minds. On Caldus they went straight to being fucking domestic partners, and Jeno wants to smack himself for being so careless. At the time it seemed harmless. He was… happy, and he thought he made Jaemin happy, and that was enough for him. If only it’d been enough for Jaemin.
When dinner rolls around Jeno decides to wear civilian clothes, figuring his work suit to be a bit too obvious for what he’s doing there. He wears a pair of casual black slacks and a loose black button down that he tucks in at the front, leaving the top of his chest exposed to show his decorative chains. The outfit is finished off with a pair of temperature controlled boots and a winter coat to match, as well as a blaster stealthily hidden in his pant leg, just in case.
The restaurant they meet at is inside a massive igloo, and honestly Jeno wishes he were joking. Thankfully the insulation and advanced tech keep the inside temps from freezing his chains to his skin, but it’s definitely brisk.
He waits at his table for a few moments, fidgeting with the frost on his glass of water until it drips down his fingers and the water finds its way to his wrist. He wipes off the stray drops with his napkin, holding his wrist up to inspect his sleeve to see if it’s still wet, when a figure slides into the chair opposite of him, unannounced.
Jeno lifts his gaze from his sleeve, peering across the table to see who has joined him, only for his eyes to land on an unfamiliar expanse of golden, shimmery skin. His contact is from a race of people called the Chrysos, who live on a forest planet and glimmer in the sun. Their skin is often equated to that of liquid gold, but Jeno doesn’t think it looks so dramatic, just like they’ve been rubbed down with glittery body oil. Though one of his acquaintances, a fellow agent named Donghyuck, is half Chrysos, and his skin doesn’t coruscate nearly as much as the man before him.
“Mr. Lee?” The man asks with a smile, pulling his leather gloves off and shucking his furry coat to let it hang on the back of his chair. Upon further inspection, Jeno notices he’s quite well dressed, wearing a silk shirt and golden jewelry to match his skin.
Jeno finally finds the sense to drop his arm, letting it rest against the table as he returns the man's smile, though he can’t deny that his is probably a bit more awkward. Jeno doesn’t smile much to people that aren’t, well, Johnny or Jaemin. “Yes, and you’re Luca, I assume?”
The man nods his head and goes straight for his glass of water, bringing it to his lips in a curious sip. When the water hits his tongue his eyes immediately light up, and Jeno gives him a peculiar look at the display. When Luca sets his glass down, he casually pulls a small, see-through piece of glass with a metal border from his lap, sliding it across to Jeno as he flashes him another winning smile. A holopad. “I’d always heard that this place laces their water with flavor enhancers, make your mouth all tingly, and they were definitely right about that,” he says with a light laugh, leaning back in his chair as he crosses his arms against his chest, his gaze shifting from the holopad to Jeno. “Don’t look so serious, agent. Take it, read it, do with it what you will.”
The words aren’t exactly comforting ones, but still Jeno grabs the holopad, swiping his wrist comm over it to transfer the data for later, before tapping it to project its contents.
A gasp threatens to escape him when the first thing that pops up is a blurry image, one of a man in a long black coat with silky black hair to match who appears to be looking over his shoulder as he dashes away somewhere. Despite the dark sunglasses with all too familiar red lenses hiding his face, Jeno knows exactly who it is, and suddenly the bustling restaurant around him goes incredibly silent, save for the ringing in his ears.
Jaemin .
The name swims in his brain and takes residence once again as if it owns the place, and Jeno feeds its ego as he swipes through the holopod, examining the other blurry shots and the small notes that Jeno assumes Luca added himself. One of them is just the word “mountains?” circled in red, and Jeno looks up at his companion for an explanation.
“Mountains?” he asks, setting the holopad down to allow the hologram to project straight up for them both to see. “What do the mountains have to do with this?”
Luca leans forward and rests his elbows on the table, clasping his hands together before resting his chin atop his knuckles. “I suspect that if your reprobate has decided to reside here for the time being, it is because he knows he is being watched. The No’Rin have made this place very advanced, yes, but that means that there is little in the way of privacy. I believe if he is still here he has taken residence in the mountains, where the native Virnix live.”
Jeno glances down at the holopad once again, swiping a hand over it to turn it off before looking back up at Luca. What he says makes sense, but without much to go off of Jeno isn’t sure he can just grab a day pack and venture out into the snowy mountains. There are creatures and unsteady land he knows nothing about, and he’s almost positive he’d freeze to death before finding Jaemin. There is always the prospect of a guide, but then he risks compromising himself more than he already has with Luca, and he knows damn well the alien will not want to accompany him.
“Any idea where exactly? Or any inclination at all of the direction he went or if he picked a specific tribe?” Jeno knows likely that the answer to all of those questions is no, that Jaemin is smart enough to have covered his tracks and could be orchestrating this whole thing as a wild goose chase while he takes the first shuttle off this fucking icicle.
But no, Jeno reminds himself of what Johnny said.
Jaemin is doing all of this to grab his attention, lure him in for… whatever reason. Yes, Jeno is likely a pawn in all of this, but he knows that Jaemin will make him work for his rewards, that this will not be an easy task. Still, he can’t stop the small rise of hope he gets when Luca’s features light up as if he knows something Jeno doesn’t and finds it amusing. Jeno narrows his eyes, silently requesting for Luca to go on, and the man has the audacity to chuckle.
“He didn’t exactly leave a trail. Your criminal is smart, leaving hints where he wants you to find them and making himself completely invisible when he needs to. However, the day you contacted me that you were coming, I saw him again.”
Jeno straightens up immediately, leaning in to make sure he’s hearing him correctly. “You saw him… yesterday?” The thought is nearly unbearable, and Jeno almost wants to reach over and throttle Luca to tell him to get on with it, but he holds himself back. Patience is a virtue, and all that.
“Yes. At first I thought nothing of it. I snapped a picture, took my notes, and went back to my hotel. However, when looking back at what I took, I realized that this was not a chance sighting.” Luca waves his hand over the holopad again, scrolling through the list of information before making it to the bottom. There, another slightly blurry picture of Jaemin stares back at Jeno, but this time he can see that Jaemin stands directly under the setting sun, his head haloed by it’s dimming light.
“Following the path of the setting sun?” Jeno thinks aloud, admittedly a bit distracted by the way Jaemin is so clearly positioned for Luca to take the picture, and a reluctant smile turns up the corners of Jeno’s mouth. That bastard .
“Perhaps. I asked around and it is Virnix custom to hold all important ceremonies at sundown. Weddings, funerals, coming of age, things like that. Apparently things as simple as telling your partner about your day or having your dessert for the night should be done at sundown. It’s symbolic to them of cleansing, ridding yourself of the things you don’t want from the day and taking with you the things you want to keep into the next. I am not sure of the relation, but,” Luca gives him a light shrug, clearly unsure of how these things connect, but at his words a dizzying memory comes to Jeno.
Back on the moon where the time agents live, there is no real sundown or sunrise. The buildings simulate that by gradually dimming the master lights during their day cycle’s equivalent to sundown. It was always during this time that they would meet, because everyone was hurrying to their apartments or finishing up last minute tasks and nobody would suspect why they would be wandering where they shouldn’t be. Jeno glances back at the picture of Jaemin with his head shadowed by the glowing sunlight, and his chest aches so suddenly and so intensely he feels as if his heart is going to leap out of his ribcage.
This definitely is a clue. Jeno will need to follow the setting sun, and at the end of it, hopefully he’ll find Jaemin.
The dinner finishes casually enough, he and Luca engaging in easy small talk as they enjoy their meals. By the time Jeno leaves the air has already begun to drop to it’s evening temperatures, even if the sun is still peeking over the horizon behind his hotel.
He makes his way into the lobby, thankful for the heated air that immediately begins to melt the frost on his hairline, though it does make him feel a bit as if he’s sweating. No matter, he thinks, because he could use a nice shower once he gets to his room, and the mere thought of hot running water already has him relaxing as he takes the elevator up to his floor.
Once the elevator dings to signal he’s arrived, Jeno steps out into the hall, a plush white rug cushioning his boots before they clank on to the crystalline floors. His room is at the very end of the hall where a window overlooking the city sits, and Jeno notices that the glow from the sunset is illuminating everything around him so that it sparkles and reflects rainbows on the walls.
He’s overcome with another memory as he approaches the window, passing his room to look out at the city before him. Everything is so bright, so picturesque and luminescent, and soon it will be bathed in a freezing darkness that can only be overcome with artificial city lights.
Back then, before he lost Jaemin and his eye and his world fell apart, there was no artificial light that ever broke through the misery of the neverending darkness on that moon. No bedside lamp or chandelier or flickering faux candle ever seemed to make him feel warm and illuminated.
And that’s how he fell in love with Jaemin.
Jaemin seemed to practically glow with the light he held inside of him. The moon was cold and the station sterile, but Jaemin was a meteor, reckless and blazing and impossible to look away from. The day he came to the company, another lost soul, raised in the boarding schools on the outskirts of the galaxy where kids without families went, Jeno was already magnetizing to him. He was assigned to show Jaemin around since they were the same age. Jeno was in his last leg of training whereas Jaemin was just about to start with two other new recruits. Many nights they stayed up just talking, enjoying each other's company and the stories they had to tell. They became close friends, the only real friend Jeno had ever had, and somewhere along the way the like turned to love and the love turned into… this.
He was an escape, a safe place, home , and Jeno hasn’t felt warm since he left.
Forcing himself away from the window, Jeno turns back to his room, swiping his watch over the handle before pushing inside. Immediately he slips his coat off, already getting too warm in the comfortable heating, and kicks his boots off in the entrance.
Jeno heaves out a sigh, of relief or distress, he can’t tell. All he knows is he’s had a less than enthusiastic day and he would like to relax before his inevitably worse one tomorrow. However, just as he’s about to cross the threshold from the entryway to the living room, he pauses. Taking a few steps back, his brow furrows as he feels an uncomfortable shiver snake its way up his spine. For a moment he thinks he forgot to turn the heating in his room on, but quickly realizes that the shudder isn’t from the cold.
Silently, careful not to give away the fact that he knows there is someone in his room, he reaches for the blaster in his pant leg, pulling it from its holster around his calf before standing up straight once again. Jeno then makes his way into the living room, looking around him in a complete circle at his surroundings. The kitchenette area has no place to hide, and the couches are a juvenile cover, so whoever has decided to bother him must be in the bedroom.
Jeno gets into a defensive position, holding his blaster up and ready to fire as he slowly makes his way to the open french doors of his room. He keeps his back taught, though the same shiver overtakes him once again, and his confidence quickly dissipates, crumbling at the seams until he’s nothing resembling the agent with years of experience under his belt.
Jeno’s hands tremble around his blaster while stepping into the bedroom and scanning every corner he can, even if his vision is beginning to swim. But the more he searches, the more he sees absolutely nothing, and for a moment he’s worried he’s lost his mind.
He pauses and stands at the end of the bed, dropping his blaster onto the mattress with a huff before relaxing his arms at his sides in defeat. Maybe he really has gone insane, but just as he’s about to curse himself for being paranoid, the doors behind him click shut, and Jeno spins on his heels to see him.
There are a lot of things Jeno had planned to say to Jaemin when he saw him again. A lot of rude, profane, gut wrenching, horrible things. Now though, as the man stands before him, only a few feet away and dressed in a tan duster that makes him look as if he’s some luxurious planet hopper, Jeno has no words to grace his ears with.
Jaemin must take this as an invitation, because the longer the silence drones on, the more relaxed he appears, and he begins to step further into the room—closer to Jeno.
Jeno can hardly believe what he’s seeing, and once again considers insanity, his chest heaving with breaths he can hardly get out. This isn’t real, it’s impossible and reckless and more likely a dream than any sort of twisted reality.
But then Jaemin is right in front of him, close enough that Jeno can see the bags under his eyes, and the little indents on his nose where his sunglasses would have sat. He looks the same, but horribly different, and Jeno can’t stop the surge of hurt that rips through him.
Jaemin left him, abandoned him on a foriegn planet with a life threatening injury and didn’t even stop at the hospital to ask if he was okay. Sometimes Jeno was worried he dreamed him, only to wake up and see the sheen of his metal eye in the mirror, a glaring reminder that he was real. Now, all he can see in front of him is a memory of loss, and it eats Jeno from the inside out.
Jaemin opens his mouth as if to speak, but Jeno never gives him the chance, grabbing onto the front of his wrinkled white shirt with his left hand—
And brings his right hand up into a fist, connecting it with Jaemin’s face in a sickening crack.
★彡
Well, Jaemin thinks, that definitely could have gone worse.
He pulls the wet towel from his brow, grimacing at the bright red stain that contrasts the clean white as Jeno paces in front of him like an agitated cat. After he punched Jaemin hard enough to break skin, he immediately helped him up and sat him on the bed, silently grabbing a rag and soaking it in cold water before bringing it back to him wordlessly. Of course Jaemin was hesitant to take the offer, but he knew if he didn’t then it would just make Jeno more upset.
Now they sit, or rather, Jaemin sits on the edge of the mattress with his feet planted on the floor as Jeno finds any possible way to keep from speaking to him. There were a lot of ways he was expecting this meeting to go, and was about to just let things take their course for Jeno to find him out in the mountain caves with the Virnix, but decided that he couldn’t wait any longer. He had Jeno in his grasp, easily and knowingly falling into his traps, and he couldn’t just sit around and wait for him. He’d been waiting enough, giving Jeno space and time to heal, even if his own heart is hollow from where the man used to occupy it so perfectly.
However, now that he’s here he seems to have blown Jeno into hysterics, and though Jaemin is transfixed by his broad shoulders and messy hair and perfect, grumpy face, he decides to remain still. Jeno hasn’t kicked him out, hasn’t completely kicked his ass, and hasn’t called in reinforcements to have Jaemin arrested. He’ll take the black eye, if that means there’s any hope of Jeno hearing him out.
As if he can hear his thoughts, Jeno stops his mindless laps, standing on the rug where Jaemin’s feet are planted, and Jaemin’s gaze immediately shoots up to meet the stare of the man before him.
Jeno looks… pissed, hurt, annoyed, and Jaemin isn’t sure which emotion to run with. He stands with his arms crossed against his chest, muscles pulling even at the loose sleeves of his shirt, and his feet stanced to keep him steady. Jaemin wishes more than anything that this was easy, that he could pull Jeno down onto the bed and have him once again, but those days are long over, and the Jeno before him clearly wants an answer.
“Are you okay?” His gruff voice breaks the silence, and Jaemin nearly startles at the sound of it. The concern in his words doesn’t match the way his nostrils practically flare while looking down at him, but he supposes this is confusing for Jeno, too. “Not that you didn’t deserve it, but I still feel a little bad for breaking skin.”
This makes Jaemin snort out a laugh against his will, bringing the cloth away to see the red stain still growing. “Don’t feel bad, I did definitely deserve it.”
“I only said I felt a little bad,” Jeno is quick to retort, his features softening just the slightest. If Jaemin were any more delirious he would have sworn he saw a smile threaten to turn up the corners of Jeno’s mouth, but just as quickly as it comes it’s gone.
“Look, Jeno—”
“What are you doing here, Jaemin?” Jeno interrupts him, never seeming to want to let Jaemin get a word in. Oh well, so be it, Jaemin is used to any and all of Jeno’s moods. “I thought the point was to play your game?”
Ah, well.
Jaemin dabs his head a few more times before pulling the rag away, folding it in on itself only to set it on the nightstand. He looks up at Jeno with a blank expression, trying not to seem eager or hopeful or in any way upset. When he speaks he wants Jeno to hear him, not analyze him, but Jeno is an agent through and through, and he’ll try to decipher Jaemin’s words before they even escape his lips.
“I didn’t want to play a game with you,” he says matter of factly, leaning back on his hands on the bed in an attempt to seem casual, even if his heart is threatening to beat out of his chest. “You figured out what I was doing, you came after me to stop me, I didn’t see any reason to drag this out.” It’s a crude half-truth, lacking all the parts where Jaemin felt like he was going to jump out of his own skin if he didn’t see Jeno immediately.
Jeno affords him an accusatory look, one that reeks of distrust, or incredulity, Jaemin isn’t sure. Either way it’s not exactly a look he can work worth, so he tries to lower his defenses, and hopes that will in turn make Jeno less on edge.
“We need to have a real conversation. I know I have a lot to explain for myself, so why don’t we just sit on the couch for a bit and talk, hm?” He tries and admittedly fails to keep his usual, sly tone out of his voice. Jaemin often wishes he weren’t such a slimy dude, that he could achieve things without coercion and batting his eyes, but alas it works for him. Even on Jeno. Impenetrable, serious, respectable, wonderful Jeno.
“Okay,” Jeno mutters through gritted teeth, dropping his arms to his sides. “I’ll make some tea.”
And then he leaves, not even affording Jaemin another look as he disappears into the other side of the hotel room. Jaemin gets up and follows, not wanting to waste any time he has with Jeno, and steps out into the living space.
He can see Jeno at the kitchenette, filling the electric kettle with water before setting it on its glass stand. Colorful lights reflect through the water as it begins to heat up, and Jeno hovers over it with a death grip on the counter. Even from where Jaemin stands, he can see how taught his shoulders are, how tense his legs are just to keep him upright. Jaemin can’t deny that he feels horrible, that every scar on his body that Jeno probably had surgically taken away was from his mistakes, but he’s ready to explain himself to Jeno. He’s ready to make his peace and leave him for good, even if his smile will haunt him through every sleepless night until the day he dies.
Jaemin makes himself as comfortable as he can be on the couch, slipping his coat off and letting it rest on the back cushions. In no time at all, Jeno is returning to his side with two mugs of steaming tea that he sets on the coffee table, eyes unable to meet Jaemin’s gaze as he does.
Then, albeit reluctantly, Jeno plops down on the cushion next to him, all frayed edges and scowls. Back then, when Jeno was in a scowly mood, Jaemin would kiss his palms and trail his mouth up his arms until he was at his neck. They always joked that Jeno could never be mad with his skin between Jaemin’s teeth.
“Okay, talk.”
Jeno’s voice pulls him from his thoughts, bringing him back to reality as he glances at the tea on the table. The steam rising into the air is grounding, and Jaemin pushes all non-constructive thoughts away in favor of focusing on the matter at hand. He definitely has a lot to explain.
Jaemin intakes a breath, more to warn Jeno that he’s about to speak than for himself, and clasps his hands together on his lap. “I’m not sure where you want me to start…” He murmurs softly, trailing off as he chances a look over at Jeno next to him, only to see his gaze trained on the useless mugs of tea. Admittedly Jaemin had lots of things to say, groveling apologies and well-detailed accounts of what happened the day it all went wrong, but as he sits in front of Jeno to actually verbalize them, they seem terribly vain. Everything he wants to say is just in a feeble attempt to get Jeno to forgive him, and he isn’t here to be selfish, he’s here to make amends.
Jeno scoffs dryly next to him, his features scrunching as if he’s being poked by a needle in his side. “It’s convenient that even after dragging me around by neck, nearly getting me killed, abandoning me after the fact, and then coming back and interfering with my job so you can finally say your peace, that you now expect me to find the words for you,” he bites out with all the bitterness of a scorned man, and Jaemin tries not to flinch at the harshness of it, even as Jeno shoots his burning gaze in his direction.
When their eyes meet, Jaemin wants to look away, but that would be cowardly and he’s already proven that he can be as such. Jeno is hurting, and he was supposed to make it better, not make it worse.
“You’re right,” he begins quietly, hands wringing themselves in his lap nervously. “Honestly there is a lot I want to say to you, but now that I’m here it just seems so… hollow.” Jaemin swallows the lump in his throat, his eyes desperately searching Jeno’s for any sign of receptiveness. From this close he can see the glimmer of his implant, and Jaemin can’t help the way he focuses on it to try and remain present. “First, I’m really sorry, Jeno. What I did… it was inexcusable, completely stupid and impulsive. At the time it seemed like the right thing to do—”
“Right thing to do? Right thing to do? ” Jeno’s voice sounds as if he’s just been told that he woke up with two heads, complete and utter disbelief painting his beautifully pained features. “You fucking left me,” he shouts, turning to better face Jaemin as he breaks out in a fit of anger. “You left me on that planet to die by myself and you never came back! Right thing to do? Seriously?”
Jaemin grimaces at his words, shrinking in on himself even as he tries to hold his ground. Cowering and crying would be horribly manipulative, so he just takes the jabs, because lord knows he deserves them.
“I know it looked that way, but I promise I didn’t intend to leave you behind, Jeno.” Even as he says them, the words feel subpar, not nearly enough and more of a jab in an open wound than a healing touch. But still, he trudges on. “Headquarters had already heard that our position was compromised. When you got shot they were closing in, and if I didn’t leave they would have known we were together and we would have been arrested or exiled. I didn’t care what happened to me, I didn’t care if I became a fugitive, but I didn’t want to ruin your life too just because I was selfish enough to love—”
Jaemin snaps his mouth shut, tearing his eyes away from Jeno to look down at his lap. He doesn’t need to bring that up, doesn’t need to mention feelings long since forced down and bottled up in a steel trap. It’s not helpful to Jeno, and it’s not good for him.
“Bottom line,” he chokes out in barely a whisper, the memory of that day still fresh in his mind as if it were happening on a screen right before him.
Jaemin was terrified that Jeno wouldn’t make it, and didn’t leave until he saw him being taken away in a med-pod. Even then, Jaemin followed him to the hospital, and hovered amidst the other tense families of patients while hidden in civilian clothes. He found his way to Jeno’s med charts, finding that he was stable and alive, and that was enough for him.
“I didn’t abandon you because I wanted to, I didn’t leave you to save my own ass, and I know that doesn’t fix anything or change the fact that I hurt you, but I never meant for any of it to happen. I did what I thought was right, and even then I was bad at doing it because I couldn’t stay away. I followed you to the hospital and didn’t leave until I could make sure you were alright. It was stupid, and I’m lucky I didn’t get caught, but I just… couldn’t live with myself if I knew I was the reason you didn’t make it. I wouldn’t have been able to allow myself to breathe at all.”
When Jaemin’s done speaking, the only sound that fills the room is the ringing in his ears. His senses have strategically blocked Jeno out, and even as he keeps his gaze away, he can barely notice the indent of his weight on the couch, or the sound of his soft breathing. All Jaemin can focus on is his own heart beating in his chest, and it’s enough to have him lightheaded.
A few more minutes pass in this deafening silence, and for a moment Jaemin is worried that Jeno won’t say anything at all, that he’ll just sit there until Jaemin takes the hint to leave. He won’t blame him if that is the case, but a part of him is naively hopeful that he’ll say something , anything, if not to allow Jaemin to hear his voice one last time.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jaemin can see Jeno reaching for his mug, bringing it to his lips before taking a contemplative sip. All at once his senses flood back to him at the gentle slurping sound, and Jaemin can’t stop himself from looking over at Jeno once again. If this is to be the last time they see each other, then he will absorb every last detail that he can, because he was foolish enough not to last time.
When he’s done taking his sip, Jeno sets his mug back down on the coffee table with a gentle thud, and still he says nothing.
Jaemin deflates in defeat, taking one last look at the delicate mole beneath his eye, and the perfect angle of his nose that matches the sharp angles of his jaw. Jeno is all sculpted edges and refined lines, and Jaemin is the jagged rock that threatens his integrity. He knows when he’s overstayed his welcome, and reaches behind himself for his coat.
“Well, thank you for allowing me to speak,” he says with a small bow of his head, crumpling his coat up in his arms before standing from the couch. “It’s a long trek back to the mountains so I better go—”
Jaemin is stopped by something grabbing his wrist, and he looks down to see Jeno’s hand wrapped around it. The touch freezes him in place, stunning him like a ray gun on full blast, and Jeno holds him steady as he stands to face him.
“You’re not walking out in the snow while it’s dark,” he says definitively, using his voice that Jaemin knows means there’s no room for argument. “You’ll sleep on the couch, and I’ll… think on this. I still have to decide what is to be done with you.”
Ah, right. Jaemin is still a fugitive who’s been committing very illegal acts to get Jeno’s attention, and he’s pretty sure “I wanted my boyfriend back” isn’t going to fly in a courtroom. This is exactly what Jaemin wanted to avoid, because space councils are not forgiving, less so are trials of time agents, and Jaemin hopes that even if he is taken down, that Jeno is the one with the boot on his neck. He’s ready to face his consequences, because Jeno is safe, and that’s all that matters.
“Okay,” he finally replies with a single nod, mourning the loss of Jeno’s touch as he takes a tentative step back.
Jeno looks down at the couch, then back up at Jaemin, and for once he can’t tell what could possibly be going through his head. His usually hard features are softened into, well, nothing, and this time it’s Jeno who gives him blank stares. “I’ll get you some clothes and some blankets,” he says with a small bow of his head before turning back towards the bedroom, leaving Jaemin stunned in his wake.
Something in Jaemin tells him that this is a bad idea, but that voice is so measly and small in comparison to the relief that settles deep in the ache in his bones that longs to be near Jeno for just a little bit longer. If he wakes up handcuffed and stuffed in the back of a police shuttle, then at least it will be with Jeno’s shirt still clinging to his skin.
★彡
Jeno tries to sleep.
Really, truly he does.
But it never seems to come.
He sits up in his bed, frustrated with his own mind for not affording him any peace, but he knows he can hardly be blamed. Every miniscule touch Jaemin left on his skin, from their fingers brushing to Jeno’s hand around his wrist and their knees knocking on the couch, burns him from the inside out. Jeno feels as if he’s been rubbed down with Cryllian fire leaves, and he expects to look down at his bare chest to see festering, reddened welts.
But no, his skin is free from markings that he wasn’t already aware he had. Scars that he asked the hospital not to bother removing. At the time he claimed he didn’t want to waste medical credits for useless cosmetics, but much like his silver eye, he keeps them as reminders. Reminders of his life before, reminders of the messes he’s been in, and most of all, reminders of the man who sleeps in the next room over.
Jeno wants to scream, to tear his hair out and punch through walls and kick snow rabbits until he’s taken into custody himself. The horrible, debilitating reminder that Jaemin is so close yet still out of reach makes him nearly sick, beside himself with unfiltered indignation. Jaemin is the one who fucked up, Jaemin is the one who left, Jaemin this, Jaemin that. He knows, rationally that this is all Jaemin’s fault and he should be furious with him, so why does he feel so fucking cheated for not getting to touch him? To hold him.
Love is a hell of a drug, and Jeno fears he is an insatiable, deranged addict to pills carved with setting suns.
He doesn’t think as he pulls himself out of bed, doesn’t bother rationalizing with his brain as his feet patter against the cold, crystal floor. The night is dark, the hotel room even darker, and Jeno carries the weight of the planet's gravity on his shoulders as he pulls the french doors open, only to reveal an equally as awake Jaemin on the other side.
Jaemin stands in the middle of the living room, Jeno’s t-shirt hanging off his frame and a mug of something steaming on the coffee table. His eyes are blown wide as if startled, and Jeno is sure he looks like a mad man, but fuck if he cares.
They stare, the tension tugging on them like a taut rubber band ready to snap. Jeno nearly hesitates, nearly backs away and closes the door with a muttered apology, but he forces those thoughts away. If he goes back to his bed he’ll die, he just knows he will. No rhyme or reason as to why, but he knows he won’t survive.
“Jeno?” Jaemin asks softly, concern lacing his voice and visible on his features despite the only light coming from the city outside. “Are you okay?”
Artificial lights.
Jeno is so fucking sick of artificial lights. He hates the way they constantly buzz and never warm a room and are always too white or too yellow. He hates the promising glow of neon that hides dirty secrets, and he despises the crude attempt at a sunrise on his gods forsaken moon.
Jeno hates, and Jeno loves.
In one moment Jeno is staring at Jaemin from the doorway, and in the next he’s crossing the distance between them with the steps of a desperate man.
And this time when his hands curl in the fabric of Jaemin’s shirt, it’s to pull him into a kiss that he makes sure will bruise worse than his fist.
Immediately, like a big bang strong enough to wipe out all of humankind, Jeno feels his once dormant body come alive at the taste of Jaemin on his tongue. His movements are desperate, starved and depraved, and he doesn’t dare hold himself back as Jaemin relinquishes all control to him.
He can feel Jaemin’s hands thread through his hair, can feel his warm breath and taste the remnants of mint toothpaste as his own hands grip onto his waist brutally. Jeno wants to consume him, and swallows every pant and whimper that escapes the younger's mouth as they kiss like men possessed.
Jeno captures Jaemin’s bottom lip between his teeth, tugging on it to elicit a pleased moan from Jaemin’s throat, and that makes Jeno’s sanity somehow waver even more. Having Jaemin, feeling Jaemin, kissing Jaemin, it’s all too much and not nearly enough. The feel of their bodies pressed together doesn’t satiate Jeno’s need to destroy, to rip Jaemin open and tear at his flesh until they can reconnect at the seams.
Without hesitation, Jeno reaches down to grip onto the back of Jaemin’s thighs, hoisting him up easily from the ground so his legs wrap around his waist. Jaemin yelps in surprise, but is easily silenced with another greedy kiss as Jeno ceremoniously carries him back into the bedroom.
Admittedly, there’s a small, mumbled voice in Jeno’s head that’s telling him this is a bad idea, but the sound of Jaemin’s gasp as he’s tossed onto the bed silences the stupid fucking voice. Jeno doesn’t care what this means, he doesn’t care what happens to him, because he’s already died a million deaths in those lonely hospital beds, waiting for a Jaemin who he thought would never return. Now that he’s here, he’s not letting him go.
“Off,” he pants as he crawls onto the bed, tugging at the t-shirt that Jaemin easily helps him lift up and over his head. Jeno tosses the measly fabric somewhere in the dark room behind him, not sparing it a second thought as his hands splay against Jaemin’s bare chest, eager just to feel him. While trailing his hands down to bracket Jaemin’s ribs, his thumb catches the younger’s nipple, coaxing a small whimper from his mouth.
Jaemin still reacts as he always did, still melts in Jeno’s palms as if he were invariably meant to live in his grasp. Jeno gets high off of it, feeling an almost forgotten sense of euphoria as he dips down to nip at Jaemin’s jaw, tongue poking out to taste the salty skin of his neck and running against the spot just below his ear he knows is sensitive. Jaemin’s hands find their way back in Jeno’s hair, and Jeno lets him tug and pull as his kisses trail to the valley of his sternum, a beautiful, empty canvas for him to paint in shades of desperate longing.
But first, he must take Jaemin apart bit by bit, have him floating in the skies so that only Jeno can bring him back down. Jeno knows Jaemin’s body as if it were his own, remembers nights spent just feeling each other, as if creating maps to find their way home. He remembers taking Jaemin against his shower wall, bending him over the kitchen table, letting him ride him until neither of them had any strength to move a muscle. Jeno remembers everything, and can hardly believe he’s being allowed to relive all those memories again.
Unwilling to exercise patience, Jeno closes his lips over Jaemin’s right nipple, using his left hand to tease the other one, rolling the hardened bud between his fingertips. At the joint sensations, Jaemin arches into Jeno’s mouth, a startled gasp escaping him that sounds like the sweetest song Jeno has ever heard.
“Gods, I missed you,” he murmurs against Jaemin’s chest, lightly tugging at his nipple with his teeth before trailing his curious mouth lower. Jeno kisses his stomach and licks between the ridges of his taut abdomen, hands sliding down his sides until his fingers find the waistband of the sleeping pants he let Jaemin wear. Everything is eager, every movement frantic, but still Jeno pauses to spare a glance up at Jaemin before going any further. “Tell me you want this,” he says breathlessly, placing another mindless kiss to his hip bone as he waits for a reply. “Tell me you want me , or stop me now, because I swear I am never letting you go again, Jaemin.”
It takes Jaemin a moment to gather his wits, especially with the way Jeno’s hands squeeze his clothed thighs and his lips aimlessly brush against the smooth expanse of skin above where his pants end. The younger intakes a stuttering breath, hands slipping from Jeno’s hair to lay at his sides and prop himself up on his elbows. Jeno nips at the skin just above his happy trail, and Jaemin’s body jolts involuntary as he captures his own bottom lip between his teeth to stifle the moan Jeno knows was wanting to escape.
Even in the dim light from the open windows Jeno can see Jaemin perfectly, or maybe it’s just his memory of his features filling in the blanks, but either way he doesn’t miss the familiar spark in his eye that Jeno knows is just for him. He is fire and brimstone, eternal flames that envelop Jeno and swallow him whole, and Jeno is finally beginning to feel warm again.
“Yes,” Jaemin says weakly, his voice barely an exhale of breath. “Please, Jeno, I need you. All of you. Forever.”
And that's enough for him.
Jeno feels his skin crawl with need, his hands starved and soul aching for satisfaction. With new found permission he tugs Jaemin’s pants down roughly, dragging his briefs along with them until they’re being thrown off the bed with his shirt. Finally, Jaemin lay before him in his purest form, all tanned skin and pliant flesh and Jeno’s for the taking.
“In the drawer,” he starts as he drops down to his stomach between Jaemin’s legs, hands gripping his thighs to pull them apart before pressing light kisses to the inside of his knee. “Free lube,” Jeno finally finishes with a dazed grin, watching in satisfaction as Jaemin immediately reaches over into the nightstand, rummaging around for a bit before retrieving the little silver packet. Jaemin drops it onto the bed before falling back into the pillows once again, his eyes fluttering shut as Jeno begins trailing kisses up his inner thigh.
Despite the merely teasing touches, Jaemin’s lips part in a gasp when Jeno sucks a mark into the milky flesh, teeth scraping over salty skin until he can taste the threat of copper on his tongue. Jaemin mewls at the sensation, hands fisting into the sheets just to have something to hold on to.
But still, Jeno needs more. He needs to take and take until Jaemin has nothing left to give, and when he glances up to see Jaemin’s cock hard and leaking onto his abdomen, he realizes his next target.
Without warning, Jeno takes Jaemin’s cock in his hand, relishing in the small cry that punches from Jaemin’s chest as he closes his lips around the tip, tongue swirling to lap up the beads of precum that threaten to go to waste. Jaemin tastes just like he remembered, and Jeno hums around him as he begins to slowly bob his head.
Jaemin’s hands find their way to Jeno’s hair once again, knees shaking with every flick of Jeno’s wrist on the parts of his length he isn’t taking into his mouth. When Jeno looks up at him through his lashes, he groans softly at the sight of his blissed out expression, head tilted back in a silent moan as Jeno takes him deeper, letting the tip of his cock brush the back of his throat and making him gag.
After a few languid drags of his tongue, Jeno slowly pulls off with a quiet pop to take a breath, using his leftover spit to pump Jaemin’s cock slowly, teasingly, wanting to drag this out until he simply can’t take it anymore. With his free hand he reaches up and grabs the lube from next to Jaemin’s hip, bringing the foil to his lips before tearing it open with his teeth. Immediately the sticky substance begins dripping from the opening, and Jeno brings it up to drip down Jaemin’s balls and against his entrance, not even caring that some is finding its way to the comforter below.
“Jen—Jeno—” Jaemin gasps out as the cold lube creates a lewd sensation on his ass, his cock and thighs already feeling sticky and messy, but Jeno likes him that way. He likes when Jaemin is at his most vulnerable for him, when he trusts him to take control and make him feel good. That same trust has never left, and Jeno feels the gratification of it coursing through his veins as he drops the emptied lube packet, only to bring his hand up to spread the lube against Jaemin’s puckered ring of muscle. “ Fuck —oh, Gods—” His words are sharp, pitched and breathy to let Jeno know he’s doing a good job.
With one last flick of his wrist, Jeno releases Jaemin’s cock, ignoring his whine of protest in favor of using his hands to pry Jaemin’s thighs further apart. At this point the lube is everywhere, and Jeno knows they’ll need a shower after this anyways, so he intends to let it get messy.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Jaem,” he muses almost abenstmindedly as one of his hands comes down between his legs once again. Calloused and curious fingertips rub at Jaemin’s entrance, and Jeno watches as his body twitches and jolts against his will at every electrifying sensation.
He starts with one finger, letting it slowly slip in and allowing ample time for Jaemin to get accustomed to the intrusion. Immediately Jeno can tell that Jaemin is tight , not having been stretched in awhile, and Jeno can only hope that he or Jaemin were the last people to do it. This sight is for him only, the way Jaemin’s dark hair splays out against the pure, white pillows, the slight gleam of sweat on Jaemin’s brow and down the valley of his chest from just a little bit of touching. As he begins pumping his finger slowly, crooking it in just the way he knows Jaemin likes and earning him a steady stream of whimpers and quiet pleas, he knows that Jaemin is the only one for him, and the only one he’ll ever feel this way for.
Spurred on by desperation and Jaemin’s quivering, restless body, Jeno continues to stretch him out with starved impatience. Eventually one finger turns to two, and two turns to three, until Jaemin is a crying mess beneath him, begging him for more.
“Please— ah —please, Jeno. Need—need you to fuck me. Please,” Jaemin cries out, his words cut off with small moans as Jeno presses teasingly against the bundle of nerves that have made Jaemin completely unable to sit still. His thighs have long since clamped around Jeno’s forearm, trying but failing to get him to stop his ministrations, and Jeno is addicted to the sight of beautifully broken elegance before him.
In front of others, Jaemin is biting and fearsome and unafraid, but to Jeno, he’s vulnerable and willing and oh so happy to please. He’s untamed fire, streaks of light across the night sky, and Jeno wouldn’t have him any other way.
“Okay, okay, shhh,” Jeno murmurs soothingly, placing a calming hand against Jaemin’s chest before slowly beginning to slip his fingers out. Jaemin whimpers at the sensation, and Jeno can’t tear his eyes away, even while pushing his own pants down and kicking them off the bed, as his hole now flutters around nothing, glistening and pink and just for him. “Condom?” He asks as he carefully parts Jaemin’s legs to allow him room to drape himself over his pliant body, settling himself between Jaemin’s thighs as he holds himself up with hands planted on either side of Jaemin’s head.
At the question, Jaemin shakes his head, arms wrapping around Jeno’s neck to keep him in place, even as he squirms with need below him. “No. Nobody since you. Only you.” The words are muttered and barely coherent, but Jeno hears him, and Gods does he love the sound of it. “Please,” Jaemin begs again, voice whiny and sounding on the verge of more delirious tears.
Jeno props himself up on one hand, using his other to gently push Jaemin’s sweaty bangs from his face before leaning down to capture his pink lips in a kiss, this one less desperate than the others. This time, Jeno savors his taste, imprints to memory the bow of his lips and the sheen of spit that is shared between them. He lets all of his anger and fear and burning need swell up and fizzle out in this kiss, because Jaemin is here, and he’s his, and Jeno won’t let him leave again.
As their lips move together in a familiar dance of push and pull, Jeno reaches down between them to line his cock up with Jaemin’s entrance, letting it slide against his skin to slick it up with whatever lube remains as he doesn’t quite have the strength of will to rummage for another packet, and Jaemin keens at the feeling of Jeno so close yet so far. His body arches slightly, searching for Jeno’s warmth to press closer against him in a silent invitation, and Jeno positions himself properly once again.
“Tell me if you need me to stop, okay? Don’t hurt yourself for me,” Jeno says as he places soothing kisses to Jaemin’s cheeks and against his jaw and chastly on his lips, all in hopes of distracting him even a little bit. When Jaemin gives him a nod of understanding, he attaches his lips to the sensitive spot on Jaemin’s neck, sucking a bruising mark to the soft skin as he begins pushing into him slowly.
Jeno groans deep in his chest as the head of his cock slips in with ease, Jaemin moaning eagerly beneath him as his fingers press desperately into Jeno’s shoulders, sure to leave marks that will follow him for days. Jaemin is so tight and warm and Jeno thinks he might really lose his mind from the euphoria of having such a perfect man entangled with his body. With every inch he slowly pushes in, every bruising bite and dazed nuzzle of skin against skin, Jeno feels those torn pieces from their mistakes finally mending themselves. Nothing in this universe or the next matters as much as Jaemin, and nothing can ever equate to the image of Jaemin’s head being thrown back in bliss when Jeno’s hips meet plush thighs, and his body stills with a sudden rush of pleasure.
“Okay?” He asks, albeit breathlessly, and all Jaemin can do is nod. The younger’s hands tangle in Jeno’s hair to tug and pull as he adjusts to the intrusion, but Jeno can see on his slack-jawed expression that Jaemin feels just as good as he does.
After a few moments, when Jaemin finally stops squirming, Jeno pulls out a bit to test the waters, only to push himself back in in a shallow thrust. Jaemin gasps at the feeling, his head nodding eagerly to encourage Jeno to do it again, so he does.
Jeno finds a slow rhythm at first, pulling out only to thrust languidly back in and punch surprised moans from Jaemin’s chest, but as his speed begins to pick up, the endless stream of noises exchanged between them is like a composed symphony of mindless want.
With the arm that isn’t holding himself up, Jeno grips onto Jaemin’s thigh and lifts his leg a bit, maneuvering their bodies in just the way he wants before beginning to thrust at a slightly quicker pace. He knows he’s found the right angle when his time Jaemin practically screams .
“Fuck fuck fuck— there —” Jaemin chokes out on a groan, his nails digging into Jeno’s back and marking him with addictingly stinging scratches as Jeno continues to fuck into that same spot, hitting Jaemin’s prostate every time and rendering him incoherent.
The tension in Jeno’s body shifts, a familiar swirling sensation building in his gut as he loses himself in Jaemin’s body. When he looks down at his work, Jaemin’s body quivering and glistening in sweat as the force of Jeno’s thrusts moves him up and down the bed below him, he can’t help the way the pleasure seeps into every bone in his body. Jaemin feels so perfect around him, as if they were designed by a cluster of lonely stars just for each other, and as Jaemin’s moans become pitched and stuttering, he knows that Jaemin is close too.
“You’re so beautiful, baby. So perfect, hm?” The praises fall like liquid gravity from Jeno’s lips, his mind focused only on the curve of Jaemin’s frame, his chest heaving and sticking to his own from the thin layer of exertion coating their skins. Nothing feels too much anymore, but just right, and Jeno reaches up to take Jaemin’s hands in his, interlocking their fingers before pinning them to the bed. “You’re gonna come like this, okay? Can you do that for me?” Jeno accentuates his request by thrusting into that same bundle of nerves, sending Jaemin into a fit of yes ’s and please ’s, all slithering down Jeno’s spine and settling in the pit of his stomach.
He fucks him harder, deeper, putting every last ounce of regret and pain into the movement of his hips, building the tension in his body until it becomes unbearable. Jaemin is the sun and the stars and fires in the ocean and volcanic eruptions. Jaemin is his home, a place for his nerve endings to settle and heal their frayed edges. If he must live in a cave in the snowy mountains with nothing but Jaemin to keep him warm, so be it. He welcomes the challenges they’ll face, because they’ll face them together, and Jeno will always have the feeling of Jaemin’s body against his own to get him through the night.
“Gonna come, gonna come— please , Jeno.”
The sound of his name falling from Jaemin’s lips is the last little push he needs, the blinding heat swooping through him and overtaking his senses as his thrusts become erratic. Jaemin seizes beneath him, body locking up in a violent shudder as Jeno feels hot, sticky cum coating their stomachs, matching the feeling of Jaemin clenching impossibly tighter around him.
At this, Jeno erupts into a moan, his body coming alive and stars exploding behind his eyes as he comes inside of Jaemin, milking the pleasure between them as his thrusts slow to a gentle grind, the crashing high slowly fading to a gentle thrum that courses from one body to the next.
When Jeno’s movements stop, he leans down and captures Jaemin in a lazy kiss, content just to feel his warmth and the thundering of his heartbeat in his ears. Every tense muscle is now relaxed, basically jelly, and Jeno can’t help the pleased grin that forms on his features against Jaemin’s lips.
Jaemin giggles beneath him, disentangling their hands so he can play in Jeno’s sweaty hair instead as he pulls back to look at him. “What's so funny?” he asks teasingly, chest still heaving while he catches his breath. Jeno thinks he looks like what the people on Earth refer to as heaven, a picture of divine safety and warmth and love.
“Nothing’s funny, baby,” he hums contentedly, one of his hands lightly running up and down the length of Jaemin’s side just for the need to feel him. Jeno can’t recall a time in his life he’s ever felt so relieved, or satiated down to the electronic fibers that have fused with the synapses in his brain. Jaemin has fused to him similarly, settled deep in his heart and carved his name on the rungs of Jeno’s rib cage. “I’m just happy,” he finally finishes, and the way Jaemin’s face illuminates with those simple words is enough to power a city skyscraper.
“I’m happy too, so happy. And sticky.”
The pair erupt into a fit of laughter, pure and mindless giggles buzzing between them when Jaemin gasps suddenly.
“Oh, Gods—you’re still inside of me,” Jaemin mutters as his body stills, trying not to squirm too much from the feeling of Jeno’s cock still nestled deep inside him. This, however, just makes Jeno laugh again, head tilted back in elation, and Jaemin smacks his chest playfully in protest. “Don’t fucking laugh, you’re gonna kill me.”
Despite his words, Jaemin can’t help but laugh along with Jeno, and the darkness of the room is replaced with sounds of joy echoing off it’s crystal walls.
If Jeno ever thought he could send Jaemin away, he was a bigger fool than he realized, because Jeno’s heart never beat like it’s wanted to be alive until he met the man below him. Now that he’s back his heart sputters and awakens in his chest, and Jeno refuses to make it suffer for so long ever again.
★彡
Some time after round two and a handsy shower, Jaemin gets up in the middle of the night to use the restroom. Leaving Jeno with a kiss on his cheek to reassure even his sleeping yet always alert brain that he’ll be back.
After relieving himself and pressing the little button to flush the toilet, he eyes himself carefully in the mirror as he washes his hands, and admires the different shades of purple and red and pink that grace his skin. On his chest there’s faint bite marks, his neck more bruised than it is tanned skin, and his shoulders are riddled with scratches from when he took Jeno into his mouth. And though it looks as if he’s been mauled, all he can feel is a familiar sense of belonging that he hasn’t felt since he was laying in the sands of Caldus, draped over Jeno’s chest in the setting sun.
When he returns to the bedroom he sees the faint blue glow that signals the beginning of morning, so Jaemin takes the time to close all the blinds before crawling back into the warm bed. Immediately Jeno’s arms are around him, pulling him closer until he’s practically on top of him, and Jaemin feels a kiss being placed on the crown of his head.
“I missed you,” Jeno murmurs groggily, voice roughened by sleep, and well, their previous activities.
Jaemin can’t help but chuckle sleepily at the sentiment, placing a kiss on Jeno's chest in return. “I was only gone for a minute,” he whispers back into the darkness of the room. Though, as much as he wants to tease Jeno for being silly, he knows all too well the feeling of losing something you love.
“A minute too long,” Jeno mumbles as he’s carried back into sleep, his breathing evening out once again as Jaemin traces patterns against his smooth stomach.
Jaemin feels a sense of peace overcome him, even as time bleeds into a new day and the consequences of his actions loom overhead. He knows that no matter what happens to him, or to Jeno, that they have each other, that they left all their demons and wrong doings behind and carry with them the endless possibilities that lay before them.
“I love you,” he says into the darkness, knowing that Jeno is already gone to the world, but that’s okay. It’s more than just a proclamation to Jeno, but to himself, that he loved and lost and now can love again, and they have all the time in the world to figure it out this time.
Jeno stirs a bit in his sleep, wrapping his arms tighter around Jaemin and tucking him under his chin, his breath leaving him in a deep exhale. Jaemin giggles to himself as he snuggles closer into Jeno’s embrace, and finally allows himself to try and get lost in the quiet of the room.
“I love you too.”
It’s soft, almost non-existent, but it’s there.
And Jaemin doesn’t think it will ever get better than this.