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Jaemin wasn’t expecting Huang Renjun to crash into his life.
Literally.
Or rather- he, crash into him.
And it wasn’t like he meant to, he didn’t wanna break the dude’s arm- which, Renjun had complained about Jaemin calling him “dude” because-
“I’m not just some ‘dude’, I’m Renjun, and you broke my fucking arm. You broke my arm with your stupid big sweaty body and your big stupid chest and- ”
Big. Stupid. Yada yada.
Jungwoo had been yelling in his ears about back heels and back passes and whatever he could think of, telling him all the things he was doing wrong and not the things he was ever doing right. Jaemin understands he guesses- they’re stressed with the upcoming loom of the final season and their last chance at glory. And it was the Captain’s last season with them after all. Which meant that Jungwoo choosing the next captain was inevitable and bound to happen soon… the man had already begun writing goodbye letters to the team. They still had four fucking months.
Jaemin figures he would just become an assistant coach after he graduated (the rest of the team thought so too) but he wasn’t going to bring it up and risk Jungwoo crying about the mention of graduation and then buying the whole team I'm-leaving-forever-so-I'm-pratically-dead-shots. Jaemin could only handle so much alcohol.
Mark had tried to reason with Jaemin in the locker room last week to explain that the Captain had been extra hawkeyed on him because Jaemin was his rumored pick.
As in, rumored pick for the next Captain.
"Bro, everyone knows that you're taking his place."
Jaemin could only scoff.
And Jaemin can’t handle that pressure. He thinks, anyway. He can’t even handle it when Donghyuck asks him to order his food for him whenever he’s too busy making out with Mark across every surface of their apartment. Contrary to popular belief and looks and whatever - he may’ve been social but he was also stressed. It was like those goats that faint when they get frightened. Of course, he didn’t faint when he collided with the poor dude- sorry, Renjun - whenever they crashed with a mess of arms and sticky skin. He just laughed at him. You know, like a standard asshole.
Jaemin had been stressed with Jungwoo’s complaints screeching into his ears underneath the baking sun. He was overheated and just barely running on the promise of the showers and food that Coach had picked up for them all. It was October for fucks sake and it was still sweltering. He could hear takeout calling his name. He was beginning to see shit like those people who get lost in the desert and swear there's a waterfall just a few steps away. He thinks he could see Jungwoo wearing a hot pink tutu.
Jaemin had been trying to perfect his scissor kick but Captain was yelling something about-
“Use a back pass you absolute wet blanket! Don’t you dare hurt yours- ”
He didn’t get to hear the rest of his insults because 1) Jaemin was apparently not paying attention to the fact that he was running out of bounds 2) he slammed into a body.
Jaemin had driven into the outsider so hard that the whoosh of air had been pushed out of him, taking any breath that he had in his lungs away, and the body beneath him made a sickening crunch as they landed several feet from the sidelines.
Underneath him, the small body was trying to wriggle free but made a wounded sound as an arm flopped over Jaemin’s head. Their legs were so tangled that Jaemin didn’t even think he could feel his own or know where his body even began. Several shouts from the field were ringing in his ears but they were muffled by the collision and distance. Jaemin looked down to see the blurry stranger’s face- which could only be described as disgusted.
“Watch where you’re going,” Jaemin groaned, face just above the stranger’s shoulder, shoved in the grass.
“Get your big stupid sweaty body off-” the boy tried to shove him off with a weak push but his face screwed up like he had tasted something bitter, “fuck ...ouch - move!”
Jaemin made a pained sound and tried to get his head to stop spinning so he wouldn’t throw up on him- or the precious grass. He managed to slur out a pitiful sentence.
“M’ tryin- I can’t see.”
“You can’t see? What do you mean you can’t see?”
Jaemin tried to speak again but his stomach lurched. “M’ dizzy…”
The boy scoffed and tried to roll over- he thinks- because he made an oof sound and Jaemin felt his body barely shift to the side. He may have been slim, but years of soccer and athletics had filled the cracks of his lanky body with lithe muscle. People often underestimated him on the field because of his appearance- but his teammates knew better. They always watched him dart across and knock the smug looks of people’s faces with bright smiles.
“Don’t you dare fucking throw up on me-” the boy tried to roll him off again but he huffed with annoyance, “-or I will...will...”
Jaemin’s vision had finally stopped whirling and attempting to offset his gravity because he was able to finally focus on the person beneath him, tangled up in his arms. And-
Oh.
He was pretty. Very pretty. It had to be the crash of the ground on his head whenever he fell that had him thinking that a boy was attractive- not that it really mattered. But, this was definitely a first for him.
“Don’t call me pretty when you’re the one who probably just broke my arm,” the boy lamented beneath him, his eyes teary with pain. Jaemin also noted that a flush was on his cheeks, running up his neck and ears. Maybe it was the heat from the unforgiving sun.
He said that out loud?
“Jaemin!”
Jaemin craned his neck behind him as best as he could to see a herd of boys running towards him, concern wrinkled in their brows. It was Chenle that had to carefully pry him and the boy apart with meticulous fingers.
He looked back down to the pretty boy who finally had an arm free. He was clutching his own wrist with a gentle hand and he was crying, face splotched with crimson. Jaemin almost threw up when his eyes trailed down and saw the awkward angle of a bone trying to break the skin on his forearm.
Chenle also made a sour face when their eyes met and Mark helped pull him up by the armpits, mindful not to make things worse. Their skin pulled apart with a ripping sound from the dried sweat that had them stuck together.
“Fuck, you’re bleeding dude are you okay?”
It took him a moment to realize that it was Jungwoo above him, patting down his bloody knee with his jersey. Whatever animosity he had for him on the field was gone and he was back to being Jaemin’s friend. He tried not to hold it against him- Jungwoo was kind, after all.
“I’m fine I’m just,” he shook his head trying to get his vision back to being clear, “still dizzy. I think I hit my head…”
Donghyuck, Jaemin’s best friend slash roommate, who had been watching them (Mark) practice, had run up to help and he was cradling the boy’s arm and looking at them helplessly. He didn’t do well in stressful situations either. They were quite a sight back at the dorm.
“Jungwoo, I think his arm is broken.”
Jungwoo glanced at the bone and quickly turned his face the other way- “Oh Jesus Christ, don't show me that.”
The boy looked at the Captain with incredulous eyes and his eyebrows raised impossibly high, his mouth twisted to the side in anger.
“Of course it looks awful,” he snapped, trying to pull his arm out of Donghyuck’s grasp but thought better of it when a sting of pain shot all the way down to his toes. Jaemin knows he shouldn’t laugh in a situation like this, whenever he himself was scraped up, but he couldn’t help but giggle. And it wasn't at the broken arm, his dizzy sight, or the herd of boys it took to pry them apart. It was just the ridiculousness of it all, really.
“What’s so fucking funny soccer man? I would say that maybe you hit your hard too hard and that’s why you’re acting stupid, but maybe you’re always like this.”
Mark snorted beside Jaemin and went back to tending to his wounds when Jaemin shot him a death glare. Even though he was the butt of the joke, everyone laughing at the boy’s retort, he couldn’t help but be amused as well. Maybe he was just good-natured like that.
“Unfortunately, Jaemin is always this dense,” Donghyuck replied warmly, helping him up. The boy dusted off his pants with his good hand and gave Donghyuck a small nod in thanks. Jungwoo helped Jaemin up as well, prodding and poking for injuries like a worried mother.
“Jaemin seems to be fine. What about you-?”
“Renjun,” he replied holding his arm close to his body, annoyed.
Renjun was a bit… glittery.
That was the word that seemed appropriate to describe what was before Jaemin’s eyes. The boy had a light sparkly shadow dusted over his eyelids and a single dangling butterfly earring. Jaemin wondered that if Renjun turned towards the sun, the butterfly would wink sunspots over him. Even the strange layer of glitter over his cheekbones gave off their own light. Jaemin liked it- liked glittery things.
Jaemin was surprised to see that his necklaces didn’t have butterflies on them, instead, they were just a matching chrome to his bracelets and anklets. The white button-up that Renjun was wearing was unbuttoned on top but Jaemin figures it was on purpose. He didn't have much fashion expertise. His taste landed between soccer uniform and sweatpants.
Jaemin looked down at his stained practice uniform and suddenly felt very sweaty and dirty- gross compared to the pretty Renjun. Even if he was stained too, his elegance and fashion still made him look runway and magazine ready. Jaemin wiped off his forehead which was covered in sticky humidity and straightened his shirt with an awkward cough.
“We need to get Renjun to a hospital,” Mark said coming up behind Donghyuck and grabbing Renjun’s free arm, “this doesn’t look good.”
Maybe it was the desire to take a break from Jungwoo’s pressure, to get out of the heat- the guilt of breaking his arm... or the way that Renjun sparkled under the sun. Either way, disregarding all of the reasons, Jaemin found himself volunteering.
“I’ll take him,” Jaemin interjected. He looked at Renjun who wasn’t crying anymore, but his tears were streaked and dry. “I’ll take him in my car. That way, you’ll only be out one person in practice. Have Jisung take my position, it’s about time he gets a chance off the bench.”
Jungwoo smiled. “Okay, Captain.”
“Don’t,” was all Jaemin said before turning back to Renjun. He was eyeing him warily, amber brushing down his body and back up.
“If that’s okay?” Jaemin added quickly.
Renjun paused. “Sure.”
Donghyuck raised an eyebrow, almost suspiciously, and Renjun did too like he was surprised that Jaemin even asked for permission. Donghyuck’s look was bordering on knowing something Jaemin didn’t. He waved it off and replaced Donghyuck’s position, taking Renjun’s elbow in his hands gently and guiding him away. His skin was soft.
He didn’t really know what he was thinking. Jaemin was a sociable person when it came down to it, always ready to meet new people and talk their ears off. But this time felt different. He couldn’t quite place the feeling that was stirring in his gut and pouring down his palms, lighting him up on the inside. Kind of like butterflies.
Chenle helped gather their backpacks and put them in the back in case they needed anything out of them. He was even kind enough to give Renjun his last Gatorade. Renjun nodded gratefully but still looked confused at everyone’s willingness to help him. It was silent as Chenle left them, the car humming to life the only noise as they started to back out of the parking lot. His head throbbed. Maybe he should get checked out too.
“Sorry I’m sweaty,” Jaemin said, flicking on his blinker. “And uh, sorry for breaking your arm.”
Renjun looked over at him. “Why are you apologizing for being sweaty?”
He didn’t even acknowledge his apology for the arm. Jaemin gestured to himself with the hand that wasn’t on the steering wheel.
“Because you’re dressed all nice and you smell really good- like strawberries. Here I am covered in sweat and grass.”
Renjun looked down at his outfit and snorted. “I’m also covered in grass if you didn’t notice.”
“Yeah, but you make it look good.”
He couldn’t look over at the boy because he had to keep his eyes on the road but he could feel his gaze burning into him, into the side of his face. It made him nervous. Why was he nervous?
“You like my outfit?” he replied finally, voice dubious.
Jaemin stole a quick glance at Renjun, who was looking at him with his delicate brows pushed together.
“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I? Just because I don’t dress in your style doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate the fashion.”
“Right,” the boy replied, slowly. Suspiciously.
“You don’t believe me?”
“Not many people take kindly to the way I dress, so no, not really.”
Jaemin made a pfft noise, lips blowing out air and he laughed. “What’s wrong with the way you dress?”
“Are you really that stupid?”
The soccer player stole another glance at Renjun, who was looking dead into his eyes. Jaemin had to turn back to look at the road before he crashed. The officer would have to ask what happened and he would have to admit that Renjun’s eyes were so stunning that he lost control of the car. Cheesy.
Renjun’s comment stung and he tried to shrug it off.
“Don’t know if you have a thing for calling me stupid but this is the second time today.”
Renjun didn’t look sorry but he did look away out the window in favor of ignoring him. Jaemin continued to break the awkward tension in the car because he's Jaemin.
“But no, I really don’t understand why people would care about the way you dress. Boys and girls can wear whatever they want, right?”
He kept looking out the window, acting like he found cars and dead grass more interesting than their conversation. But finally, he replied, voice a bit kinder.
“Yeah. You make it sound easy.”
“Well, I’m not saying it’s easy but I guess I don’t see why people care so much. It’s just pink socks and makeup. Didn’t know that the two could throw punches.”
Renjun laughed and then groaned at the pull of his arm. He held it back up to his stomach and winced at the sight of the bone trying to break the skin. Jaemin also avoided looking at the crime scene of the arm and focused on the pavement in front of him.
“They can’t but people can,” Renjun said after letting his pain fall back into numbness.
Jaemin looked over shocked. “People hit you-”
“-No,” Renjun cut in. “I’m just saying. People are rude though so I guess that’s why I don’t really believe you. Especially since you’re…” he paused, thinking, “you know.”
Jaemin frowned, making another right turn. “Um, no? What do you mean?”
“A boy.”
“And-?”
Renjun looked flustered, cheeks pink enough to match his socks and eyeshadow. Jaemin thought it was charming- even if he was possibly insulting him.
“Aren’t you a boy?” Jaemin asked, tilting his head.
“Yea.”
“So...?”
Renjun huffed impatiently as if it was obvious what he was getting to. “You’re a soccer player.”
Jaemin raised an eyebrow and made another turn, snorting. “What does that have to do with anything?”
Then Jaemin got it.
“Oh. So just because I’m an athlete I’m a douchebag?”
It was Renjun’s turn to roll his eyes. “I’m just saying that your typical dude doesn’t really take too kindly to people like me.”
“People like you,” Jaemin repeated.
“Yes.”
“You know,” Jaemin started, “my best friend is gay and his boyfriend is bi. They’re always fucking on every surface so I really don’t care. One time I walked in Donghyuck’s room without knocking and he was literally face down ass u-”
Renjun’s voice was sharp, a bit high in panic. “Okay, let’s not discuss this.”
“Why?”
Renjun used his free hand to straighten his seatbelt and Jaemin saw him shrug in his peripheral vision, shoulders coming up high.
“Because you just assumed that I was gay.”
Jaemin was thankful there was a stoplight because he finally got another chance to look over at him. Renjun was staring out the windshield and his arm was still cradled gently into his lap near the bottom of his stomach. His bracelets reflected off the setting sun.
“What - no? No, I didn’t?”
Renjun turned toward him. “Yes, you did! You just pulled the ‘my best friend is gay’ card.”
“Doesn’t mean that you are. I was saying that I’m not someone to judge for superficial things like that. Ya know, clothes, gender, sexuality,” he paused and tossed in, “...broken arms.”
That got a small smile out of Renjun, even if the tension had risen a bit. He quickly shoved the smile down and coughed, looking back out the windshield, focusing on the streetlights.
“Did you just hide your smile?”
“No, that would be ridiculous.”
“I think you did.”
“I didn’t.”
“You di-” a screeching honk startled them both and Jaemin looked up to see that the light had turned green and there were several angry cars behind them. He sheepishly pressed the gas and hoped they could see the apology on his face when they zoomed past him with murderous glares. Jaemin turned back to the road, having trouble pulling his eyes off Renjun, and continued
“I don’t care who or what you like.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Are you always this bitter?”
Renjun laughed again, but this time he cut it off before it could go on any longer and he looked betrayed at his own giggles
“Why do you do that?” Jaemin asked, risking another look at him.
“Do what?”
“Look mad at yourself when you laugh?”
"Are you always this fucking chatty?"
"Yes," Jaemin confirmed happily. "I could get worse."
"No, thank you."
Jaemin hums. "Well, if we had met at a party I could guarantee it would be much worse."
Renjun reaches forward with his good hand and switches on the radio, flicking and turning up the music. He didn’t seem to care that it was a stranger’s car that he was intruding on.
“Why are you ignoring me?”
“Because I don’t like you. Stop asking so many questions.”
“What-? Everyone likes me,” Jaemin objects, voice incredulous.
Renjun sounds smug. “So that’s your problem. I see.”
“That everyone likes me?”
“Or so you assume."
“Well, I like you enough for the both of us.”
The boy rolled his eyes and played with his necklaces, chrome and metal jingling softly in the car as he twisted them around his thumb. “Does that line work on everyone else?”
“Just pretty boys that I break the arm of.”
Renjun looked over at him sharply, face miffed and tight. “Didn’t know you made it a habit. You should work on that and your pickup lines.”
Jaemin laughs, turning into the hospital, making sure to drive carefully and avoid jostling Renjun’s arm. He didn’t stay in the waiting room but instead, opted to follow Renjun into the back to get his arm checked out. The boy had only grumbled a little when he found out that he wasn’t going to let him go alone, but other than that, it was the most that was said between them.
Jaemin didn’t mind the silent treatment Renjun was giving him- part of him understood. Also, with the way he was gripping the hospital bed with tightened knuckles, Jaemin didn’t think he was a fan of going to see a doctor. Of course, the doctor ruled in favor of a broken arm (with just one look at the bone tenting through the skin) and they got Renjun in a cast, a heavy white hanging over his arm.
Renjun looked disgusted.
“I hate this thing,” he said, finally breaking the silence once they were back in the car. He gestured to his thick cast and tossed a hand in the air, waving it in a crazy motion. “It already itches.”
Jaemin looked over at the blank cast and then at his glove box. He reaches across Renjun’s lap, hands brushing the tops of his knees, and pulled out a pink sharpie. For a moment, there was a hint of blush gracing the tops of the boy’s cheeks. Jaemin didn’t think much about it.
“I knew this would come in handy!”
“No way. You are not signing my cast!”
Jaemin pouts. “Why not?”
“Because- I said so.”
Jaemin rolles his eyes and uncaps the pen, smiling brightly, lips tugging up. Renjun pulled his casted arm away and pointed with his other finger.
“Get away, demon!”
“You’re so dramatic!”
Jaemin tried to reach for him but the boy was quick to hold his arm up out of the way. Renjun quickly rolled down the window and stuck the arm out. He was sure that if someone were to pass by the two of them would look absolutely ridiculous; Jaemin with a pink sharpie held high, uncapped, and Renjun with his broken arm holding it out of the window, legs flailing.
“Let me sign it,” he tried again.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Is that your favorite word?” Renjun taunted, keeping his arm at a safe distance.
“Whatever,” Jaemin grumbled, turning back to hold his wheel. “But when you start missing me and wishing that you had something to remind yourself, don’t call me crying. My cute little pink signature will not be there. I was even gonna draw some hearts for you.”
“I’m broken,” Renjun deadpanned.
Jaemin glared.
“Where do you live?”
“Like I’m telling you -”
“-Why are you always ready to fight? Not everyone is trying to fight you! You’re literally in my car with a broken arm, I’m not just gonna let you walk home.”
“Oh yeah,” Renjun said, a bit embarrassed, his ears tinting pink.
Luckily, Renjun only lived about 5 minutes away from where Jaemin’s apartment resided. Their buildings are eerily similar and probably built by the same contractor sucking the money out of upperclassmen college students. The rent was high but so worth not having an RA up their ass during every possible moment.
Renjun didn’t even wave goodbye but he shut the door gently. Jaemin had to open and close it again.
Jaemin really didn’t want to be creepy- but he couldn’t help but make note of where Renjun lived. For like, scientific purposes.
Right.
It wasn’t like he was gonna show up and stare into his window with his hands pressed to the glass proclaiming his undying love. That would be creepy. It was more of a mental note, in case he broke his arm again or... something. Or, if Renjun called him needing a shoulder to cry on. Which, Jaemin had just met the boy today but he already found himself laughing at the thought of Renjun even relying on someone.
Renjun’s number blinked at him and he felt numb looking at it. If he called Renjun, what would he even say?
Hey I know I broke your arm and just dropped you off like- ten minutes ago but did you know that I only live five minutes away from you? Isn’t that crazy? You’re also so pretty that I can’t stop thinking about you and it’s kinda freaking me out that I can’t get you out of my mind. But, like, I mean this in the best and least creepy stalker way possible. Did I mention that you make me wanna ramble? I’m not a rambler. Ma-
“-are you just gonna look at butterfly boy’s number for the rest of the semester or…?”
Jaemin looked up from his seat on the couch to a knowing Donghyuck and his boyfriend, Mark, smiling behind him.
The three were on the floor surrounded by various Halloween decorations, preparing for the massive upcoming party. Also, an ode to Jungwoo, as it was his last Halloween party with the team. Fake fangs strung across the couch, bright orange and deep black streamers wrapped around their legs, and other random body parts, matched with strung out pumpkin guts littering the carpet around them. Jaemin spits out a hairy fake spider that somehow ended up in his mouth.
“No, I’m just… remembering his number in case he sues me. I would hate to answer it and be responsible.”
It was silent.
“You’re acting kind of weird about him,” Donghyuck said with suspicion.
“I am? Define weird.”
“You’re stalling, Jaemin.”
Jaemin scoffed and scrolled on his phone absentmindedly hoping that it would make him look busy and not like he was having a crisis over some tiny demon.
“I would never. People who stall are avoiding something, and I, Jaemin, do not avoid things. They actually call me No-Avoider-Brave-Jaemin back home.”
“No, they don’t,” Donghyuck replied, lips pressed together thinly.
“They do.”
“They don’t.”
“Ye-”
“-what the fuck is wrong with you?” Donghyuck hissed, yanking the cellular device out of his hands. He tossed it to Mark who caught it with deft hands and a sly grin.
Jaemin groaned and got up, avoiding an eager Donghyuck trailing him. Mark took his seat on the couch, settling deep into the cushions, and watched the two bicker, amused at the sight. He pulled a fake pair of fangs out from underneath his ass and tossed them to the floor.
“Nothing is wrong!”
“Do you like him?” Donghyuck asked, leaning against the counter.
Jaemin pulled down a cup out of the cupboard and wrenched out the vodka next to it, flicking the cap off, refusing to answer. His roommate watched with an unimpressed glare.
“I’m taking that as a definite yes.”
“I’m not drunk enough for this conversation.”
Donghyuck sighed. “Listen, I know it’s scary to possibly like boy-”
“Donghyuck,” Jaemin huffed out, sliding the vodka out of the way. He turned to face him. “I’m not scared about liking boys. Or-” he paused, “-one boy. What I’m scared of is the boy himself.”
His best friend snorted. Mark cackled from the couch and made his way over, ruffling Donghyuck’s hair in the process and sliding his ass up on the counter. He probably thought it was time to intervene.
“You think Renjun is scary?” Mark questioned, head tilted.
“And you don’t? Everything I say is wrong and I swear he thinks that I’m stupid. So why would he even take me seriously? Oh God - guys, what if he makes fun of me for liking him?”
“Then I suppose he makes fun of you. And if that’s the case, I don’t think you would want to date someone like that anyway.”
“True,” Mark chides from his spot on the counter, taking a shot as well. He grimaces at the burn and slides the glass away. “Plus you’ve only known him for what-?” he glances down to his watch, “four hours, max?”
“It’s only been four hours?”
“And you’ve got it bad over him already.” Donghyuck added.
“Donghyuck,” Jaemin coos in a deceptively sweet voice, pinching his soft cheeks, “I’ll kill you where you stand.”
“I’m not scared of you, freak.”
Jaemin doesn’t believe in God, but right now he might just go to the chapel and fall to his knees in front of the giant, terrifying Jesus painting. The one where he is wearing the sandals and his arms are dripping with gold.
Because right in front of him in line for Starbucks is Renjun.
While God may have dropped the beautiful boy in front of Jaemin like a personal gift and incentive for conversation, it doesn’t mean that Jaemin was gonna do anything about it.
It just- like, made him a sudden Christian. Or something like that.
He can already hear Donghyuck and Mark screeching at him for being stupid. He could hear Donghyuck’s high pitched-
“What do you mean you didn’t talk to him? Are you fucking dense? Are you a goddamn tree stump? An idiot?”
And Mark’s low voice-
“Now, now, Donghyuck. He told us he was scared of Renjun. We don’t expect him to just face his fears suddenly, right? Wouldn’t that be ridiculous of us?”
Jaemin knows he’s being unrealistic. Especially since he is imagining an angel-devil-esque conversation between Donghyuck and Mark happening on his shoulders. Is this what Renjun is doing to him? The boy probably hasn’t given Jaemin any thought since he dropped him off at his apartment last night.
It’s hard to tell himself to be rational when Renjun is standing right in front of him in all of his beauty and fucking demonic energy. He wanted to dive behind the barista counter and beg them to just let him stay there forever. He could live off sandwiches and coffee. But, Renjun would definitely see Jaemin race past him and duck behind the counter, knocking off all the gift cards and seasonal cups.
Renjun has on his butterfly jewelry and his hair is a pretty fluffy blonde that he imagines is just as soft as it looks. His pants are white and flowy, cutting off just above his ankle, and a simple graphic tee tucked in. Jaemin figures that if he tried the combo, he would just look like someone’s old grandpa that tries to be hip. He prays to the God he now believes in that Renjun wouldn’t turn around and look at a, once again, sweaty Jaemin.
He really should’ve changed out of his grass-stained jersey and shorts but he was in desperate need of caffeine before he trekked back to his apartment to shower. Jaemin discreetly sniffed himself.
He looks up from his nose tucked in the armpit of his shirt to see Renjun looking at him with an eyebrow raised.
Fuck.
“Oh. Hey. Didn’t see ya there.”
“Hi,” Renjun replies, slowly.
“I was just- um. You know, checking. Myself…”
“Right.”
“For sweat. Because I just got out of practice.”
“I see that,” Renjun said, amusement tugging at the corner of his lips.
“That’s why I’m in my jersey. ‘Cause I play soccer. But of course, you know that because I broke your arm- which, hey! That was yesterday, right? Ha.”
Jaemin wanted to fucking shoot his foot off. He was just spluttering out nonsense and hoping that it all came together to form one cohesive cool conversation. Instead, it just created something for him to wake up in a cold sweat about years down the road.
Remember when you ran into Renjun at Starbucks the day after you broke his arm and he caught you sniffing your own fucking armpit? So then you acted like you couldn’t remember the day you broke his arm like it didn’t happen less than 24 hours ago?
Renjun glanced down at his cast. Then back up at Jaemin. “Yes, that was yesterday, Jaemin.”
“Oh sweet, you remember my name.”
“Couldn’t forget it,” he replied casually.
“You’re Renjun.”
“I am.”
The lull between them was silent and filled with a heavy tension that weighed down the room. Finally, Renjun spoke after Jaemin had stared at his own shoes for a few moments too long.
“Oh sweet, you remember my name.”
Jaemin smiled, uneasily. “Couldn’t forget it.”
This was his chance, right? Renjun was kind of being nice to him, a slight difference from the day before when his words were sharp. Maybe it was because Jaemin had just snapped his arm in two, but today he seemed almost amicable.
“Can I buy you a coffee? I’m really sorry for yesterday.”
“No, it’s fine. You’ve apologized enough, I think I have my apology quota filled for the next 10 years of my life.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Renjun turned back around and stepped up to the counter to order. Jaemin made a mental note of his coffee order, even if the boy would probably never run into him again. He’s pretty sure that this meeting was just a one time thing because he is certain that he would remember a boy like Renjun walking around on campus. This eased his mind a little bit.
Once Jaemin ordered his coffee he waited near the end of the counter but he made sure to give the boy some space.
Clearly, their whole ordeal was done as it was just an accident. It wasn’t like he owed him any type of friendship or time just because Jaemin had suddenly developed a crush on him. He pressed any form of rejection out of his mind and focused on getting his coffee and getting the hell out of there.
Renjun’s name was called and he stepped up to get his drink. Jaemin looked down at his phone to mindlessly scroll through Instagram but he felt a tiny tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Renjun behind him, his lip pulled in nervously behind his teeth.
“Hey.”
“Um, hi?”
Renjun huffed.
“Look, I’m gonna get straight to it because it’s bothering me and I hate being bothered by shit like this. I have way more important things to do.”
Jaemin paused, not sure where this was gonna go. “Okay?”
“I-” he stopped, searching for words, “-why are you being so fucking nice to me? Offering to buy me a coffee? Wanting to sign my cast and take me back to my apartment? Do you really feel that guilty?”
Jaemin wasn’t sure what to say.
“Renjun, I don’t mean this in a rude way but wouldn’t anyone do any of those things for someone after they were the one who broke the person’s arm? Like, maybe, I want to.”
“No. That’s the thing, they don’t do that for other people.”
“Jesus Christ, your friends and the people you encounter sound awful then.”
“I only have one friend,” Renjun snaps back.
“Let me be your second friend then,” he replied with a shrug, a bit too eager.
Didn’t he just tell himself that it was over?
Renjun shook his head in disbelief. Spluttering and tossing his hands up.
“There’s no way you’re just being nice to me like this. I’m sorry.”
“This is how most people are. Plus, you’re really pretty.”
“So that’s it. I see.” Renjun flushed and slung his bag over his shoulder, suddenly turning to leave. Before he could take a step further, Jaemin grabbed his shoulder, making sure not to grab the boy too hard. Just enough to stop him.
“Renjun. I treated you kindly after I broke your arm because that’s what humans do, and how humans should treat each other regardless of a fucking arm or not. You’re gorgeous, undoubtedly-” Jaemin didn’t miss the way Renjun blushed, holding his coffee closer to his body, “that’s the reason I offered to buy you a coffee. I should’ve explained that’s why I asked in the first place. Not because of your arm.”
Jaemin felt that his cheeks were flushed but he chose not to care. At least he was being honest, and like Renjun, he didn’t like when things were bothering him. He liked the boy too much to just have him thinking that Jaemin was being kind because he had some ulterior motive.
Renjun was silent as he stared at him, flicking his eyes to Jaemin’s dark ones and down to his hand that was on his shoulder.
“Do you-?” Jaemin took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts and footing. It felt like he was in the middle of a soccer game trying to convince the other team that he was worthy, that he could score in the last two seconds of the game if he was given an opening. He tried again.
“Do you wanna sit down and talk for a moment?”
Renjun glanced back towards the door and then back to him.
“Sure.”
Jaemin’s coffee was warm on his lips and he was grateful for the zing of caffeine that was coursing through his veins. Renjun and he made simple conversation, bordering on too polite, getting all the necessary information about each other.
Jaemin found that Renjun was a fashion major, focusing on photography and heading towards the publishing route. He had always wanted to create his own magazine. He also found out that he was a junior as well, both having spent the last three years of their life living and breathing their college campus. The two of them were consumed by assignments and extracurricular activities.
“You know, I don’t want a pity friend,” Renjun said suddenly, stirring his iced coffee around, looking very interested in the beverage.
“Who said I pitied you? I said I liked you. A very distinct difference if you ask me.”
“There doesn’t seem to be a big difference when you’re too focused on charming me out of my pants.”
“Is it working?”
“No. I don’t like you and you’re straight.”
Jaemin looked over at him incredulously and tossed his arms up, almost knocking his coffee off the table.
“What is it with people around here assuming everything?” He pointed a slim finger at the tiny Renjun who was now glaring at him. “You would be great friends with Donghyuck and Mark. You know, they had a whole week long fight before they got together because of this very reason. You should’ve seen it- both crying messes that had crushes on each other for over three years. Can you believe that-”
“-Jaemin,” Renjun interrupted.
“What?”
“You said your best friend was gay and that his boyfriend was bi in the car. You never mentioned yourself.”
He rolled his eyes and sipped his coffee. Jaemin leaned forward. “Did you not hear the part where I called you gorgeous and pretty? Or did you choose to forget that?”
“You’re too comfortable with being an asshole,” the boy shot back.
“Funny. I’m sure people would say the same thing about you. And besides, just because I’ve only liked girls in the past, which you, by the way, assumed I was straight-”
“It isn’t assuming if it was true at the moment--!”
“-doesn’t mean that I can’t like a boy now.”
The boy across from him was impassive and his lips were twisted into something akin to uncertainty.
“Maybe I’m…” Jaemin twirled his finger up in the air like he was looking for answers, as if he could find them in their little coffee shop, “Renjun-sexual?”
Renjun stared at him from across the tiny table, drink halfway up to his lips, mouth open. “You’re joking right?”
“No?”
“Renjun-sexual,” he repeated back to Jaemin, in disbelief.
“All I know is that I like everything about you. Ya know,” he shrugged. “Renjun’s eyes, Renjun’s lips, Renjun’s smile, Renjun’s legs, Renjun’s pretty hair- all of it. Renjun-sexual.”
Renjun’s glossy lips were still wide open and the pink shimmered in the low lighting of the shop. He looked back down to his drink and then suddenly sighed, running a lethargic hand through his hair.
“Jaemin, you’ve only known me for a fucking day.”
“Have you ever heard of finding someone attractive? Isn’t that how you know you like someone? Am I not allowed to think you’re hot?” Jaemin huffed out with equal frustration. “I’m not saying that you are obligated to like me back. I don’t know what type you usually get your rocks off to-” Renjun tossed his straw wrapper at him with indignation and a gasp- “but I just needed to get it out. I refuse to be in a three year eternal pining game like Donghyuck and Mark. No offense to them.”
“Offense is taken on their part,” he replied quickly.
“Shut up. Anyway, now that the cat is let out of the bag-”
“Who even says that?-”
“-I feel way better now.”
Jaemin leaned back into his chair, taking a big sip of his drink, placing it back down on the table gently, awaiting an answer from Renjun. Or, at least a statement.
“Well,” Renjun said slowly. “Thanks for telling me.” He eyed him warily, fingers pressed against the rim of his cup with anxiety and suspicion.
“Yeah, of course.”
Renjun was silent and he tugged his bottom lip between his teeth and looked up at Jaemin with wide eyes and his expression hard to read.
“You really like me? Or- think that I’m attractive?”
“Mhm.”
His eyes searched Jaemin’s and he tilted his head to the side. Jaemin tried not to smile at the action that reminded him too much of a puppy.
“So, Renjun, do you like Halloween parties?”
All Jaemin could think about was the party.
Sure, he had been to several thrown-together-drunk-bash-frats throughout his school years. The first party he ever went to had his heart pounding before the door, hands sweaty with his throat tight. It was just a party, just a stupid party, but he couldn’t help the nerves of going in with everyone’s eyes on him. Of course, he couldn’t tell this to Donghyuck, as he had to practically lie to the guy and tell him that nobody is ever nervous at parties just to get him to go to one once a month.
It had been a while since he had felt like this.
“It’s just a boy,” Donghyuck sang, sitting on the edge of the bathtub. His thumb flicked over his phone and the song changed into something jumpy- it made Jaemin even more trembly.
Jaemin was currently sitting in the sink, legs sprawled over the counter of his bathroom and slicking down the frizz in his hair. His elbows and knobby knees had already knocked over several cans of hairspray and hair products that were dangerously close to hot irons.
“I know it’s just a boy! But I have to look good.”
“You always look good.”
Jaemin narrowed his eyes and looked over at an unassuming Donghyuck, who was innocently sitting with his knee to his chin.
“You’ve only seen him on campus technically once. Why try to start looking good every day? It’s not like he’ll see you.”
“Not li- ” Jaemin spluttered, “not like he’ll see me? Are you insane? What if he does though? What then? He can’t see me sniffing my armpit again. Not again.” He mused his waves one more time- a piece of hair stood straight up.
“He saw you sniff your armpit? Why would you do that in front of him?”
“Doesn’t matter,” he replied quickly, dismissing it. “What matters is that I have to look my best all the time now. That means no more sweatpants-”
“Good luck-”
“-no more messy hair. I will always change my underwear daily, just in case. Do you have any mascara?”
“You know, Jaemin,” Donghyuck had a small smile, “Renjun accepted that you liked him, and your party invitation, with the way you look now.”
Jaemin paused.
He supposes that it’s true. But, it didn’t mean he didn’t feel like a slob compared to the beautiful glowing boy. His hair was always messy and wavy, never in place because he was constantly running his hand through it. Jungwoo had suggested that he invest in a headband during practice but Jaemin had settled with being partially blinded by his hair. He basically lived in his sweatpants and t-shirts at this point. It wasn’t to say that it didn’t look decent- but when Renjun was around him it made him feel… gross. Who even shows up at Starbucks dressed like that?
“I suppose.”
“You suppose? Jaemin, you’re hot.”
Jaemin whipped his head back over to Donghyuck. Katy Perry blasted from the speaker next to him on the counter. The boy put his hands up in a surrender gesture.
“It’s true! Do you know how many people want in your pants-?”
“What -”
“-A lot, Jaemin! A lot! Putting you in a room full of people is like dropping a prime roast beef protected by a string in a cage full of dinosaurs. Very hungry dinosaurs. You just walk around all hot and-” his voice pitched down to mock Jaemin, “‘Ohhh I’m so aloof and sexy with my messy black hair and brown eyes. Did I mention I play soccer? I’m naturally funny and people just fall over themselves to laugh at my jokes. Oh my, who dropped their pencil? Shall I go bend over in front of everyone'-”
“I don’t sound like that!”
Donghyuck put down his hands that were sprawled dramatically over his chest like a damsel and he scowled at Jaemin. “Not the point!” Donghyuck got up and stood behind him menacingly.
“You’re hot.”
“Stop.”
“Accept it.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
A voice interrupted them, abruptly pulling them out of their little fight. “It’s true. You’re hot.”
Donghyuck twirled around and tossed himself into his boyfriend’s arms, smiling brightly, face glowing. Jaemin felt the need to put on some damn sunglasses.
“Mark!” Donghyuck sang.
Mark gave a small pat to his head and then ruffled Jaemin’s hair, smiling at him too.
“Stop agreeing with Donghyuck just because he is your boyfriend. What happened to free thinkers?”
“Jaemin, you’re incredibly hot.”
Jaemin’s mouth dropped open, aghast. “First of all, don’t ever say incredibly like that ever again.”
“Why? Is it because I’m sexy?”
“No. Second of all, you have a boyfriend.”
Mark and Donghyuck both rolled their eyes. Donghyuck spoke on his behalf. “Doesn’t mean he suddenly can’t think people are attractive, moron.” Mark shrugged when Jaemin narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
“You’re not gonna ask me to be your third, are you?”
Mark wrinkled his nose and Jaemin had the decency to be offended.
Donghyuck snorted. “While I agree with everything you say, babe, I don’t think Jaemin will ever take our advice.”
“You’re right. I refuse to listen to a couple that pined over each other for an uncomfortable amount of years and then had a big falling out after they were left alone in a closet for less than seven minutes.”
Donghyuck smacked Jaemin’s shoulder and sniffed, holding any part of his dignity that he could.
“You’re gonna end up like that with Renjun if you don’t do something about it. Okay, you’re gonna take him to the party, and then what?”
“Love and respect him?”
Mark paused. “Well, yes, that was quite adorable and unexpected from you- but that wasn’t what Donghyuck meant.”
“Adorable? Mark, you wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid.”
Donghyuck shoved Jaemin.
“What I’m trying to say is what are you gonna do to show him that you want to be more than friends?”
“I wouldn’t even call us friends. That’s the issue.”
“Perfect!”
“No, Donghyuck, that is bad. I need to show him that I have pure intentions, that I like him, and that even if it doesn’t work out, I still want to be around him. If I go straight for the ‘date me’ then maybe he won’t even consider friendship if it doesn’t work out. I already told him that I want more from him and I’m scared that I already ruined it.” Jaemin was waving his arms around animatedly as he spilled his guts. He let his arms fall to his sides limply and he looked back to the mirror with disdain.
He got the urge to bash his head in. He went for mimicking it instead. Mark and Donghyuck watched with unimpressed looks lining their mouths as Jaemin gripped the sides of the mirror flopping his hair.
“Listen. I’m not saying go to the party and ask him to fuck out of nowhere- like somebody we know-” Donghyuck turned his head to glare at a sheepish Mark, “but go in with a mission. Go in with a game plan of what you want to happen, what you wish to happen, and how you’re going to accomplish that. Do you want to be more than friends? Be obvious. Be transparent. Show him that you’re a great guy who truly values his time and yours.”
Jaemin glared. “I feel like I’m on an episode of Dr. Phil. Except you’re the unlicensed psychologist giving out advice and trying to send me to the crazy farm. I don’t wanna go to the crazy farm.”
“The term ‘crazy farm’ is a little insensitive,” Donghyuck chides.
“Sorry, The Ranch.”
“I hope Renjun bails on you.”
There are two things Jaemin hates most in this cruel, dark world. One, chairs that don’t roll. Two, when Donghyuck is right.
Unfortunately for Jaemin, this happens often. Fortunately for his mental health and self-esteem, he doesn’t tell Donghyuck when his stupid words of wisdom turn out to be true. He just acts like the boy wasn’t right and never brings it up again, therefore leaving little Donghyuck out in the dark about his weirdly true predictions.
Donghyuck was right in the fact that Jaemin hadn’t seen Renjun on campus all week.
“You’ve only seen him on campus technically once. Why try to start looking good every day? It’s not like he’ll see you.”
“Not li-” Jaemin spluttered, “not like he’ll see me? Are you insane? What if he does though? What then? He can’t see me sniffing my armpit again. Not again.”
Still, Jaemin pulled on the jeans that Donghyuck said made his ass look good and he kept a hat on to tame his messy hair. And weirdly enough- he started getting more free things.
Well- he had always gotten them before, but the graciousness seemed to multiply by ten recently.
He wondered what that was about.
Currently, he was too worried about his upcoming exam to think about the barista who gave him a free pumpkin loaf. Possibly, she was just in the Halloween spirit. She was even kind enough to write a heart beside his name on his drink.
Jaemin found himself slumped against the couch. His legs were sprawled out across the linoleum along with his various highlighters and mess of papers. A stray textbook was out of reach and he was too lazy to grab it.
“I’m gonna fail.”
Jungwoo, Chenle, and Jisung ignored him. The three were too busy gluing on bright orange boas onto a large poster board that said Girls Get in Free! Ghouls don’t! BYOB(ody)! Apparently, it took three people just to glue something.
Idiots.
Mark was the only one who acknowledged him in his state of crisis and hysteria. “You say that every time and you do just fine.”
He went back to filling up fake fangs with bright red jello shots. Jaemin made a noise of distress and flopped on the floor. He now had a sideways view of Chenle and Jisung debating if they should capitalize the I in ‘in’.
Jisung held his glue gun up like a weapon. “Chenle, in is a preposition. You don’t capitalize prepositions in titles.”
“Who cares. It looks bad because it’s not aesthetically pleasing,” Chenle tossed back.
“This is how I know you get absolutely no pussy.”
Jungwoo chimes from his intense concentration of pouring out glitter- “I believe the term is bussy.”
“Okay, who taught Jungwoo that word?” Jisung said with a wrinkle of his mouth.
Jaemin rolled over and peered at the dust underneath the couch and tried to imagine himself running away and changing his name. It wouldn’t be hard, right? Who even needs a degree? Not Jaemin.
A slow poke on his shoulder made him turn on his back and stare up at the shitty lights of his apartment. Mark hovered over him, blocking the view of the ceiling.
“Good evening.”
“Leave me here to die.”
Mark frowned and then resorted to poking his cheek. Jaemin batted his hand away like an annoyed cat.
“Even if you do fail, you have the party afterward. Alcohol and Renjun will be the cure.”
Jaemin huffed. “When I finish my exam I’ll have exactly four hours between then and the party. Four hours to think about my failures and how I’ll probably end up homeless. I’ll spend two of those four hours crying in the shower.”
“And then two hours to think about how we’re going to impress Renjun,” Chenle announced from the other side of the room.
Jaemin sat up.
“We're?”
“Team effort,” Jungwoo replied. “We make great wingmen.”
“Absolutely not. I’d rather eat my entire own fist and then throw it back up only to eat it again before I have you idiots try to help.”
“I think he means it,” Jisung said, face grim.
“I do!”
“You haven’t even heard our game plan!” Chenle shouted with a pout.
Mark side-eyed Jaemin and shook his head. “It’s really bad. I’m with Jaemin on this one.”
“First, we shove Renjun down the stairs-”
“What the fuck is wrong with you? He already had a broken arm and you want to commit a crime? A murder?”
“Woah!” Chenle’s hands were in the air like he was getting arrested, “when did I say we were killing him? Are you insane?”
“I don’t know, maybe when you said you were pushing him down the fucking stairs?”
“Fine. We don’t push him down the stairs and into your arms, you ungrateful coward. But I don’t know how else to get you two together.”
Jaemin favored ignoring him and he dramatically tossed himself into Mark’s lap, smushing his face into his stomach.
“I’m so nervous,” Jaemin whispered into the material of Mark’s hoodie.
“It’s okay if you fail.”
“No- not the exam. About Renjun.”
Mark sighed and threaded his fingers through Jaemin’s hair and scratched his scalp with soft, pressing fingers.
“I know the feeling. When I liked Donghyuck it felt like I somehow got frozen in time every time I was around him. It was like someone pressed the pause button but made the world around me fast forward. You only feel like you’re running out of time. Sometimes things work out, sometimes they don’t. Despite it being paralyzing, isn’t it better to know something, than to know nothing at all?”
Jaemin groaned into Mark’s middle and kicked his feet, wrapping his arms around him even tighter.
“My brain is too fried to take that in. I figure that it would be enlightening for some.”
“Can you two stop with the heart-to-heart? It’s-” Jungwoo glanced down at his watch, “five o’clock.”
“Meaning?” Mark posed.
“That it’s too early for casual wisdom. I need at least seven shots and some bu-”
“No for real, who taught him that word?” Jisung replied, his voice hoarse.
“Aha!” Chenle lifted up the poster board, spilling orange and black glitter over the floor of Jaemin and Donghyuck’s apartment, his face triumphant. The sign had flashing battery powered lights lining the edges and a ghost with a dick in the corner.
“Why does the ghost have a dick bigger than his body?” Mark asked.
“I needed to see some representation,” Jisung replies.
“That is horrifying, Jisung. Where is Donghyuck? I need Donghyuck. I don’t think I can deal with this anymore.”
“Donghyuck would have said the same thing. You’re showing favorites,” Jaemin muffled out, face still stuffed in Mark’s stomach.
“Because Donghyuck is my favorite.”
Jaemin screamed into Mark’s hoodie and kicked his feet even harder. His downstairs neighbors probably wanted him dead.
“That’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever heard. I want a boyfriend.”
“I still can’t believe you’re so cool with suddenly liking boys.”
“You’re telling me. I don’t really care though.”
“You said your best friend was gay and that his boyfriend was bi in the car. You never mentioned yourself.”
He rolled his eyes and sipped his coffee. Jaemin leaned forward. “Did you not hear the part where I called you gorgeous and pretty? Or did you choose to forget that?”
“You’re too comfortable with being an asshole,” the boy shot back.
“Funny. I’m sure people would say the same thing about you. And besides, just because I’ve only liked girls in the past, which you, by the way, assumed I was straight-”
“It isn’t assuming if it was true at the moment--!”
“-doesn’t mean that I can’t like a boy now.”
And it’s true. It didn’t matter. Jaemin figures that a part of him should be scared of the new territory. That he should be questioning why he suddenly had this epiphany balls deep into college, but he found that he simply just… didn’t care.
So what? The only thing he was truly scared of was Renjun himself. The stupid pretty boy had been occupying his mind since they had met. Jaemin hadn’t even felt this way about his first girlfriend in high school. And, mind you, he couldn’t eat for days when they had split.
God.
Crushes were the worst.
Jaemin pulled himself out of Mark’s lap and blinked at the light with bleary eyes. His ankle knocked into a highlighter and crinkled up one of his papers. Oh, right. He had an exam tomorrow. Jaemin got up and tucked his textbooks into his arms and held his pens between his teeth.
“M’ gonna go study.”
“Good luck, lover boy,” Jisung called after him.
He made sure to flip them off with his free hand.
Jaemin definitely failed.
He had studied so fucking hard and he failed. He didn’t even need to bother checking his grade later, there wasn’t any doubt in his mind. Typically, he walked out in the manner of yeah I think I did pretty good and today he walked out thinking that Josh is a good name to start over with.
He was right about one thing, though- he was left with four hours to spare.
Jaemin could feel the October chill finally settling over campus and he’s grateful for the gray sky and cold breeze. It didn’t make him feel so alone, this was his favorite weather. Maybe the sky was sad for him too, deciding to cheer him up.
Instead of dragging his feet back to the dorm, Jaemin decided to go blow off some steam by heading to the fields. Nobody would be there right now anyway, he would get the whole field to run around on. He would be able to scream into the nets like a child.
Jaemin shrugged off his hoodie onto the steel bleachers and laced up his cleats as tight as possible. He opted for his team jacket. Jungwoo would chastise him about the tightness but he wasn’t here right now and Jaemin couldn’t find it in himself to honestly care.
Jaemin had always been a perfectionist. It was one of his most surprising traits, according to Donghyuck. And he supposes that it would seem like Jaemin wasn’t one for berating himself because he had made a mistake, but that was just how the cards fell in his case.
There wasn’t a specific reason for his perfectionist ways, but it had always been like this.
A few laps and stretches later, he pulled out the massive bin of extra balls and pulled them to the hub of the field. He was going to absolutely obliterate the domain. Every kick was with precision and he made himself run to collect every ball, even if he had the pit with all of the balls next to him. The burn of his calves and sweat beading down his back made him instantly feel ten times better. Another kick. And another.
He went through all the study guides possible, he went to the study groups, and he had done well on all of his exams before. He knew that ultimately the lucky streak had to end but why did it have to end on an exam he had truly tried for? When he had put his pencil on the paper, he had to read over every question so many times that he felt like his eyes were going to fall out of his head and plop onto the paper.
Seven question marks for answers later, he found himself here.
Another kick. Score.
It was just so - so, absurd. It was just a test. It wasn’t going to annihilate his grade. It was just going to kill his confidence. To Jaemin, one of the worst feelings in the world was realizing that he couldn’t be good at everything. Sure, perfection was something unattainable, for anyone, but it didn’t mean that he didn’t strive for it.
That he didn’t thrive off the accomplishment of it all.
He kicked the ball so hard he felt a sting run up his shin and he winced. Jaemin seized a ball from the bin and slammed it on the ground with as much force as conceivable. It rolled lamely off the turf and back towards him. He booted it one more time for good measure and he watched as it landed perfectly in the net.
Good. At least he still had soccer.
Jaemin flopped to the ground with exhaustion, not caring that he was in the middle of the field.
“Hey.”
Jaemin’s eyes flickered open to see Renjun above him, staring down with something foreign in his eyes. He couldn’t place it. What the fuck was he doing here.
Wait.
Renjun was here.
Jaemin was still in his complete state of distress and guilt devouring him up from the inside that all he could do was seal his eyes again and muster out a weak-
“Hey, Renjun.”
He kept his eyes pinched shut. Why was Renjun here of all places? He had been trying to find the boy on campus for over a week now, even going to the fucking library. He didn’t even know their library had a third floor. Also, they had free printing. Who knew? At least he didn’t have to flirt with the Student Government President to get free printing from their office anymore. Jordan would be so sad.
Why did Renjun have to see him like this?
“Are you… are you alright?”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t look alright.”
“Everything’s fine.”
“Really?” Renjun asked, voice unbelieving. “Because I saw you murder a family of soccer balls. They had children, Jaemin. Those poor things…”
Any other time, Jaemin would find this hilarious. Who knew Renjun could crack a joke? But still. He couldn’t find the laughter, it got lost in his throat somewhere.
A noise came from his left and he cracked open one eye to see Renjun sitting next to him with his legs crisscrossed.
“I really thought that one would make you laugh.”
“It was funny, don’t worry.”
“Mm. Couldn’t tell.”
“Yeah,” Jaemin said with a crack in his voice, “sorry about that.”
It was silent as he tried to pull himself together. He couldn’t cry in front of Renjun. That would be mortifying.
“Can I at least guess?”
“Guess what?”
Did Jaemin really look that pathetic– pathetic enough that Renjun was actually talking to him?
“Guess why you’re sad,” the boy replied. Jaemin stared at Renjun as he shrugged. “I’ve never seen you like this before.”
“You’ve only technically seen me twice.”
“Okay, Mr. Grumpy. Being an asshole is my job. I’m just saying that this doesn’t fit your personality, based on what I know about you.”
The sky rumbled with thunder and Jaemin ignored it. Maybe it would rain. He liked the rain.
“And what do you know about me?” Jaemin pressed, tossing an arm over his eyes. He huffed into the air and tossed his free arm over the middle of his stomach. His fingers accidentally brushed what felt like Renjun’s knee- the boy didn’t move his leg out of the way. His knuckles rested between the skin and holes of his jeans. He was warm.
“That you’re incredibly determined, accident prone, and easy to please. Also, you like to murder soccer balls in your free time.”
Renjun’s fingertips rested gently on Jaemin’s knuckles for a fleeting second. He thought for a moment that he had imagined it.
“Pretty accurate. I’m impressed. I didn’t know you paid that much attention to me.”
“Anyone who talks to you for five seconds would know this about you. You’re an open book.”
He snorted. Jaemin hummed and then recited-
“My face is so easy to read — my mother calls me her open book,” I frowned.
“On the contrary, I find you very difficult to read.”
“You must be a good reader then,” I replied.
“Usually.” He smiled widely.”
Renjun paused.
“Where’s that from?”
“Twilight,” Jaemin panned.
“So I’m Edward?” Renjun asked, his voice light.
“Yes. Because I’m so desirable you can’t even stand it.”
Renjun sighed.
“Joking,” Jaemin added.
“It’s fine. You do kinda look like Bella right now. Except that the meadow is really just the soccer field, and you’re sitting in a soccer field, not Washington.”
The sky rumbled again and the breeze ruffled Jaemin’s hair. He huffed and hauled himself up.
“Let’s go to Washington together. Start a new life.”
“M’ good, thanks.”
“You’re boring,” Jaemin tossed back, resting his head on his knee.
“Some would say that I was smart for not dropping out of college and running away with a boy to Washington because I compared him to Bella. Call me crazy though.”
Jaemin found himself smiling softly. He had yet to really look at Renjun. He zipped his eyes over the boy’s shoulder.
“Okay, let me guess.”
“It’s not- it’s not really a big deal. I think.”
“Anyway. Guess one. Someone died?”
“Um. No.”
“That ‘no’ sounded questionable.”
“Nobody died. I just wasn’t expecting you to jump into that one so quick.”
Renjun laughed. He fucking laughed and it was beautiful. Jaemin ignored the way his heart thudded into a different pace, how it thumped more transiently.
“Sorry. I had to get it out of the way.” Renjun cleared his throat and looked up at the sky. The clouds were thick and heavy, sagging against the sun that was shrouded deep within.
“Guess two. Your dog died?”
“Christ, do I really look that sad?”
“Guess three. Someone disappointed you.”
Jaemin took a deep breath and tried to will his tears away. He looked absolutely ridiculous right now. On the verge of tears just because he failed an exam.
Jaemin hung his head between his knees and telepathically told the grass to be grateful that his beautiful tears were watering it.
“I failed my mechanics of materials exam. Not as exciting as a death in my immediate family.”
“Ah.”
“Yeah,” he replied lamely. Renjun’s butterfly anklet reflected off the gray sky and Jaemin opted to stare at his pretty ankles instead of the saturated fake grass. That was more interesting anyway. He wondered if Renjun was wearing any more butterfly jewelry today. He would look- but he didn’t want him to see his face all puffy and red. Jaemin looked awful when he cried.
“Why didn’t you take college algebra to fill your math requirement like the rest of us?” Renjun pressed. “Don’t beat yourself up, honestly, I don’t think anyone besides mechanical engineering majors could pass that.”
“Hey, Renjun?” Jaemin replied, a small laugh in his voice. Despite the catastrophe, he found wit.
“Yes?” He could almost picture the prying look on the beautiful boy’s face.
“It is my major.”
It was hushed.
“You’re a what?”
“Yeah.”
“God. Maybe I’m the asshole.”
Jaemin ultimately laughed and watched his tears plunge to the ground. He squeezed his eyes shut.
“If it makes you feel any better, I failed my design midterm the other day. How do you fail at putting clothes on someone? The answer, of course, is to ‘lose focus on the pattern, what are you really trying to convey here? ’ Apparently. According to my professor.”
“I think your fashion is great.”
Renjun sighed. “Yeah.”
Suddenly, the boy flopped on his back. Jaemin kept his eyes trained forward and tried not to think of the warmth radiating off Renjun’s body. He just kept crying.
A gentle finger poked his side.
“Yeah?”
“You gonna come join me down here, Bella?”
Jaemin found himself laughing abruptly and he sniffed, wiping his tears on his arm.
“Can I be honest?” Jaemin replied, sniffling again.
“You always are. Painfully honest at times.”
“I don’t want you to see me crying. It’s really embarrassing. I look really red and puffy and my lips swell up. But, like, not in the sexy way. You can only see me when I look sexy.”
“I saw you sniff your armpit in line. I think you’re clear.”
“Hey -”
“-And you saw me cry.” Renjun lifted up his arm that was wrapped in a cast.
Wordlessly Jaemin flopped down next to him and Renjun turned his head towards him, eyes heavy.
“I said I didn’t want you looking at me. I look like I stuck a fork into an electric socket and the fork won.”
Jaemin bravely turned his head to see that Renjun was staring back at him. The pause was stagnant and Renjun’s eyes scanned Jaemin’s face, his brow furrowing. Suddenly-
“Wow, you weren’t kidding.”
Jaemin giggled, pressing his hands into his own face, covering both of his eyes. Something wet graced the tops of his hands and he opened his bleary eyes to see that it had begun to drizzle.
Renjun looked back to the sky, noticing too.
“We should probably leave,” he commented.
“Probably, but I like the rain. And I like being here with you.”
“That’s really gay,” Renjun sighed out.
“It’s true. You’re being really kind to me right now too. Usually, you’re a bit, um, abrasive.”
“I’m sorry for being so mean,” the boy says softly.
Jaemin turned his head back to him, only to see that Renjun was cradling his broken arm gently, his mouth downturned and fragile.
“Oh- Renjun, it’s no worries. I didn’t mean to make you sound lousy or anything.”
“It’s fine. It’s true. I’ve been really mean to you.”
Jaemin felt himself panic. “But, like, I don’t blame you. I think you were acting how someone should act when they break your arm. And I’m always saying really out of pocket stuff that might make you uncomfortable. That’s also my f-”
“-I don’t mind it.”
Jaemin stared at him. Renjun’s eyes were amber, even in the unforgiving dimness of the clouds and rain, he was still in embers. Jaemin felt like he had just curled up under the sun just by looking at him.
“The comments. I don’t mind them,” Renjun clarified.
“Oh.”
I don’t mind them.
“Yeah.”
“That’s kind of gay,” Jaemin responded.
It was Renjun’s turn to laugh. He grabbed his chest gingerly and his body quivered as he giggled, rain skating down his sleeves. The two looked foolish, wrapped up in their own universe as they were surrounded by fake turf and October rain. The cars passing by would probably say they were ridiculous, admonishing about how stupid college kids and Halloween traditions were. They would probably shake their heads and comment that their kid wouldn’t be up to shenanigans on an empty soccer field on such an evening.
The rain kept a steady stream as it twirled down the oaks on the sidelines, shaking their leaves in what could only be described as dreary laughter. Jaemin wanted to hold onto this moment forever and press it between the pages of a book. Even if it meant the preservation of his failure, at least he would have the rain, and at least he would have Renjun.
They were both soaked, precipitation sticking to their cold skin. He watched as the boy shivered. Jaemin sat up to shrug off his jacket and he let it fall on Renjun’s stomach wordlessly. He only looked at him wearily.
“You sure?”
“Mhm.”
For some reason, Jaemin couldn’t even look at Renjun while he slid on the sleeves of his jacket. It almost felt like he was interrupting something private. It made him flush.
Renjun sat up next to him and clicked his heels together, anklet still dangling.
“Are you still coming to the Halloween party tonight?”
“I said I would.”
Jaemin smiled. “Doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to bail. Did you know Donghyuck told me he hoped you would bail?”
“You were probably annoying him.”
“I was. Not the point.”
Renjun rolled his eyes. “I could bail, but I won’t. I already have my costume picked out too. It beats showing up to the fashion major parties. They’re always just a contest of who can create the most innovative outfit while looking hot.”
“You win every time, of course.”
Renjun smiled wryly. “Stop flirting. You’re bad at it.”
“Not until you give me a chance.”
He rolled his eyes. “Are you not embarrassed?” Renjun questioned with exasperation.
“Not really. What was it that Mark said to me as I cried in his lap?” Jaemin cleared his throat for dramatic effect, raising one finger in the air, “‘It was like someone pressed the pause button but made the world around me fast forward. You only feel like you’re running out of time. Sometimes things work out, sometimes they don’t. Despite it being paralyzing, isn’t it better to know something, than to know nothing at all?’ ”
Renjun snorted. “And how did you take that wisdom? He needs to charge for that.”
“I believe I told him that my brain was too fried but others would appreciate it. Jungwoo also said that he needed seven shots and something unbelievably inappropriate to really take in casual wisdom at five in the evening.”
Renjun made a face of disgust.
“You’re telling me,” Jaemin said in agreement. “That’s like my dad.”
“That’s kind of gross.”
“I don’t think Jungwoo is hot or anything. Just you.”
“Anyway. I think my costume is going to be a disappointment for some, I’m not really going for creative.”
Jaemin hummed and shrugged. “Everyone is gonna be too drunk to notice anyway. Hopefully I’ll be so plastered that I’ll think that I woke up in an alternate universe, one where Mark is a cowboy and Donghyuck is a horse. It’ll block out the trauma of seeing the two make out all night long.”
“What are you going as?”
“Dunno.”
Renjun gasped. “You don’t know?” He shielded his phone from the rain that was now just a light sprinkle- “you have two hours to find a costume!”
“I was gonna spend that two hours crying in the shower.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Renjun huffed and stood up. Jaemin made sure not to look at Renjun’s ass out of respect- for his own well-being. “Well unlike you, I gotta go get ready.”
“You want me to pick you up?”
“Nope. Jeno will take me.”
“Who’s Jeno?” Jaemin does remember that Renjun said he had one friend.
“My lover.”
Jaemin looked at him mortified.
“Kidding.”
Renjun turned to leave, Jaemin’s jacket still a home on his body, swallowing his arms and shoulders. But before he could get very far, Jaemin spoke.
“Hey.”
The boy turned around, sleeves fluttering in the wind, face kind. Jaemin licked his lips and shuffled uncomfortably.
“Why-” he cut himself off and tried again, “-why were you out in the soccer fields? I hadn’t… I hadn’t seen you anywhere else on campus. Not that I was looking or anything.”
Renjun looked up at the sky, sooty clouds making him look like the brightest paint splash. Even the fake green of the turf was dull compared to him.
“Honestly?”
“Yes.”
“No reason,” Renjun said smugly. He then turned on his heel and left Jaemin sitting in the middle of the field by himself.
“Sit still or so help me God I will stick this eyeliner up your ass.”
“It burns!”
Donghyuck’s knobby knee dug into his thigh and Jaemin tried not to wince. Donghyuck’s other leg was caged on the other side of him, his crotch dangerously close to his face. Jaemin couldn’t take him seriously with his fake horsetail sticking out of his pants, paired with a headband that had horse ears.
“Your dick is in my face.”
“Consider yourself blessed,” he retorted. Donghyuck’s finger tilted his chin up even higher, his head thrown all the way back. Donghyuck was trying to practically contort his neck all seven ways to heaven.
“I don’t think his head can go back anymore, love,” Mark commented from beside Jaemin, his cowboy hat tipped over his face. Donghyuck had sat Jaemin down on the edge of his bed, demanding let me give you eyeliner so good that the people will weep when they see you - and who was Jaemin to deny him? Mark’s arms were crossed behind his head as he watched Donghyuck and Jaemin argue over water lines and wings.
“I can’t believe I’m letting a horse do my makeup and watching a cowboy call his so-called horse love,” Jaemin complained, blowing air out of his nose in annoyance.
“If Jaemin would stop trying to bring his head back down there wouldn’t be an issue,” Donghyuck snarked. He tilted his head back again and used a q-tip to smudge out the edges of his liner. Jaemin watched in awe as Donghyuck pulled out black eyeshadow.
“Eyeshadow?”
“M’ gonna use it to soften the eyeliner and give you that-” Donghyuck detached his arms that were tossed over Jaemin’s shoulders and fluttered his hands- “smoldering look.”
“What if I don’t wanna smolder?”
“You do,” Mark and Donghyuck both responded. Donghyuck continued. “Regardless of smolders, I only need to do one more thing and it involves something beautiful.”
Jaemin raised an eyebrow in question and Donghyuck smiled, but in a terrifying manner.
“Why are you smiling like that? I hate that smile. Do you know what this is? Your I’m-Going-To-Ruin-Your-Life smile, which is the exact look you had when you replaced my conditioner with mayonnaise. No thanks.”
Donghyuck frowned and smacked the top of Jaemin’s head with his free hand. “Fortunately for you, this doesn’t involve the fact I had to wait four days for you to shower. You pig. This involves red glitter.”
Mark made a noise.
“Jaemin didn’t shower for four days?”
He pulled himself out of Donghyuck’s grasp to turn towards the clad cowboy- Donghyuck did a tsk and pulled him back around to face him.
“I was scared. Donghyuck had started a prank war and I was afraid to even use the bathroom. Do you know what it’s like seeing fake blood run through the toilet water when you flush, Mark? Do you? I thought I had hemorrhoids.”
They both ignored him. Donghyuck placed glitter on a flat brush and pretended to hold a gun to Jaemin’s head. He made a fake clicking noise and narrowed his eyes harrowingly.
“You’re going to sit still. This will determine your fate.”
“Does the devil really have smoked out eyeliner and red glitter in his corners?” Jaemin questioned, gripping Donghyuck’s wrist. Donghyuck ignored him and situated his head, fingers resting gently on his forehead to steady him. Donghyuck pulled away with a smile and made a flourishing motion.
“I present to you, sexy devil Jaemin.”
“I feel ridiculous.”
“You haven’t even seen yourself!” Donghyuck seemingly pulled a hand-held mirror out of nowhere and presented it to Jaemin, placing it in his palms. He rolled his eyes and brought it up to eye level and paused. Donghyuck took his silence for what it was worth and he crossed his arms, twisting his lips.
“I told you. I wouldn’t let you go out looking like an idiot.” He then grabbed a pair of devil ears on a headband and plopped them into Jaemin’s hair. He mused the mop of strands and twirled his fingers around a few awry waves. Donghyuck looked satisfied.
He flopped down on the bed next to Mark who suspiciously looked like he was sleeping. The two looked absurd in their cowboy and horse costumes. Donghyuck reached over Mark to grab a black shirt and he tossed it at Jaemin, smacking him in the face. He swore he saw the fabric of the shirt reflect a sparkle onto his skin. He looked back over to Donghyuck.
“What is this?”
Donghyuck smiled. He then turned to his boyfriend and flicked his cowboy hat, making the boy lift it off his face in question.
“I’m making Jaemin wear the shirt.”
“The shirt?” Mark looked over at Jaemin and then down to the material balled up in his hands. “Oh. The shirt.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Jaemin pressed. They both ignored him and got off the bed, gathering their things to leave. He watched as Mark pulled a bottle of vodka out from an oak drawer and stuffed it deep inside the tote bag Donghyuck had thrown over his shoulder.
“Just put it on,” Donghyuck replied, double-checking the bag, shuffling his hand around the contents and knocking the glass bottles around with a clink.
Jaemin shook the shirt out to get a better view and his mouth slipped open. There was barely any material. The shirt was the shade of midnight black, subtle sparkles bouncing off the dim lighting of the room. He couldn’t imagine how the champagne glitter of the shirt and his eyes would look underneath the glow of the party. Jaemin’s eyes trailed over the irony of the long sleeves paired with the entire bottom half of the shirt missing.
“I believe in the good of the people,” Donghyuck said leaning against the doorway. He gestured to the shirt and raised a brow, nodding to it. “And this is for the good of the people. Think of it as my act of democracy.”
“No, this is a monarchy. I didn’t agree to this.”
“Get over it,” Mark commented. He tipped his hat down and pulled on Donghyuck’s horsetail. He then tugged on Donghyuck’s arm and the two left in fits of giggles. Jaemin could hear the two giggling all the way down the hallway.
Jaemin was fucking cold.
“It’ll be warm in the party,” Jisung answered in response to Jaemin’s shivering outside. They watched as two girls dressed as hotdogs skipped up the stairs, their ketchup and mustard squiggles wiggling under the strobe lights attached to the house. Chenle sat up front in a rocking chair. He was dressed as a scarecrow and he was holding an empty plastic pumpkin to collect money from the men- sorry, ghouls, going inside.
Jisung’s cold fingers tickled Jaemin’s bare stomach and he scowled, knocking the hand of the beaming face of Jisung away. Jisung had come as a vampire- his fangs fitting his teeth awkwardly with a red cape billowing behind him. They came up to the steps, shoes crunching on the leaves, and stopped in front of Chenle who held the bucket in front of them. He looked at them expectantly.
“Money.”
They both looked at each other, and Jisung’s mouth dropped open. He glared. “We’re your friends!” Jisung protested. He tried to hop over Chenle’s leg blocking the entrance of the house but the boy whipped out a bat seemingly out of nowhere. He held it up toward the air and then lowered it to point at the two.
“Who the fuck gave you a bat?” Jaemin asked, stepping out of the way with Jisung.
“Read the sign,” was all that Chenle replied. His straw hat was now sideways from the minor scuffle.
“The sign that I helped you make!” Jisung added, pointing at the orange paint that was supposed to resemble a carrot on Chenle’s nose.
Chenle’s bat pointed to the ‘Ghouls’ in Girls Get in Free! Ghouls don’t! BYOB(ody)’ ! and he shrugged. Jisung made a sound of annoyance and reached forward to flick the hat off of Chenle’s head. The boy scrambled to pick it up and Jaemin watched with amusement as Jisung dashed quickly and hopped over his leg and into the party. Chenle popped back up from the ground and stared at Jaemin, his face blank.
“Are you going to pay? Or are you going to betray me too?”
Jaemin sighed and pulled out cash, too much for one person.
“I’m paying for Renjun and his friend that will be with him.”
Chenle looked at the money and then back up to Jaemin. It was weirdly quiet and then-
“Loser.”
Jaemin lunged forward to knock off Chenle’s hat just as Jisung had done before him, and he made sure to hit it off the porch. He watched smugly as it flipped over the railing and into the bushes beneath.
“Hey-! ”
Jaemin stepped into the party leaving him behind, immediately searching for alcohol. The nerves in the pit of his stomach had turned into butterflies. They rattled and knocked against his gut as they tried to set themselves free under the dim lights of the party. Somewhere in the background, Taylor Swift was blasting from a large set of speakers as it reverberated throughout the tiny house. A gaggle of girls and boys passed by him, waving, already teetering over from copious amounts of liquor. Jaemin glanced down at his long sleeves that were shimmering underneath the bronze.
Fuck, he was nervous.
Luckily, alcohol found him quickly as Jungwoo, Donghyuck, and Mark were pulling up beside him ready with shots. Donghyuck took one look at the thin press of Jaemin’s lips and handed him a shot. He tipped it back, taking it all, then he looked to see Jungwoo in front of him.
Jungwoo’s face was painted in black and white checkers, wearing a matching pattern on his body. He was shirtless save for a pair of tiny black shorts. Jaemin looked him up and down and tried to find his words.
“Um. A soccer ball?” Jungwoo said, his eyebrows raised and expectant. “Can’t you tell?”
“Sorry,” Jaemin replied with a charming smile, “your twelve-pack distracted me.”
Mark snorted from his left and knocked back a shot. “No need to suck up, Captain.”
Jaemin frowned and lightly shoved Mark, shaking his head. That was another thing he didn’t want to think about. Captain. The word had white hot steam erupting off it.
“Speaking of,” Jungwoo said with a grin, “nice crop top.”
Jaemin flushed and Donghyuck threw an arm over his shoulder, knocking his head of fluffy hair into his cheek. Donghyuck’s head rested on his.
“See! I told you it would look spectacular,” he gushed, wrapping his warm arms around Jaemin’s middle.
“I don’t have enough alcohol in me,” Jaemin groaned. Mark handed him another shot and he downed it in one go, relishing in the burn that slid down his throat and into the pit of butterflies in his stomach. Hopefully, it would drown them.
“Lover boy is coming tonight, right?” Jungwoo asked. Jaemin nodded and leaned up against the wall supporting the staircase and tried to keep his composure.
I hope. He thinks back to Renjun on the soccer field.
“And what do you know about me?” Jaemin pressed, tossing an arm over his eyes. He huffed into the air and tossed his free arm over the middle of his stomach. His fingers accidentally brushed what felt like Renjun’s knee- the boy didn’t move his leg out of the way. His knuckles rested between the skin and holes of his jeans. He was warm.
“That you’re incredibly determined, accident prone, and easy to please. Also, you like to murder soccer balls in your free time.”
Renjun’s fingertips rested gently on Jaemin’s knuckles for a fleeting second. He thought for a moment that he had imagined it.
“Pretty accurate. I’m impressed. I didn’t know you paid that much attention to me.”
“Anyone who talks to you for five seconds would know this about you. You’re an open book.”
Jaemin isn’t sure why he thinks about that moment specifically, but he shoves another shot down his throat and he shakes his head at the new one Mark presses into his hand. The night passes on casually, like any other party, and the music is beginning to get to his head. Typically, it was Jaemin tugging Donghyuck along to parties, begging him just to let go of himself for one night. Now, with Donghyuck pulling him to the dance floor and forcing him to let go of his own nerves, he feels like the roles had been reversed.
But, he’s having fun. Jungwoo is pressed up against them in their dance circle shaking his ass, Mark and Donghyuck are in their own little world, Chenle is making some weird flapping motion with Jisung’s cape, and Jaemin is in the middle of it all, taking in the night. He finally excuses himself from the group, wrenching himself free of the bodies and stepping around people tripping on acid, laying on the floor pointing to the ceiling. All Jaemin sees are water stains.
He doesn’t make it far in his search for water because he feels a delicate tap on his shoulder. Jaemin tries to ignore the eruption in his stomach at the possibility of who it could be; he turns to find Renjun.
There he is, in all of his beautiful glory. Or, shall he say, in his angelic glory? Because Renjun is dressed as a fucking angel. Jaemin’s eyes drop to Renjun’s ankles that have on his signature butterfly anklet and he and scans all the way up to the halo resting on top of his head. He’s got on a pair of white fishnets, a skirt to match that is hugging his waist and- oh. Renjun has a belly button piercing. Jaemin’s eyes rest a few beats too long on the jeweled butterfly dangling underneath his belly button.
Renjun also has on a crop top, silver sparkles dusting his lids. His cast is still the color of pristine ivory.
“Oh,” is all Jaemin can manage to stumble out dumbly. He opens his mouth again but quickly closes it when he meets Renjun’s eyes- who has one brow raised.
“We match,” Renjun mused- his voice pitches up high on the last syllable. Sounding almost… breathless.
“Ha,” is all Jaemin says, eyes dropping down to the boy’s stomach again. He also checks out his legs. The music around them pulsates along with the lights and Jaemin feels like he could fucking faint. His mouth feels dry and his fingers tingle at the thought of what they look like to the outside eye. Both dressed in their slutty versions of an angel and devil, glitter makeup- they could pass as a couple. Jaemin hopes that everyone thinks they are. He hopes that everyone looks at Renjun and realizes that they could never stand a chance.
Renjun snorts and rolls his eyes.
“You look nice,” Jaemin finally gets out. “Really nice.”
“So do you,” he replies. Renjun’s eyes drop down Jaemin’s body, much like he had done earlier, and rake up to the top to his devil ears. His eyes also flutter down to his stomach but he seemingly holds his composure more than Jaemin had. His face is impassive, unbothered.
“A crop top?”
“Wasn’t my idea,” Jaemin breathes out. “Donghyuck’s.”
Renjun shrugs, but he looks nervous. “It was a good choice. So was the red glitter and eyeliner.”
“Donghyuck- again.”
He has a fucking belly button piercing. He has a fucking belly button piercing. He has a fucking belly button piercing. He has a fucking belly button piercing.
“Hello-” Someone’s hand waves in front of his eyes and Jaemin watches the stranger’s bracelets glimmer. Renjun was saying something-
“What?” Jaemin blurts out, falling out of his daze. Standing in front of Jaemin is a slender beaming boy dressed as a scarecrow, just like Chenle. Renjun is grumbling, his lips turned into a frown and the boy waves his hand in front of Jaemin’s face again.
“You must be Jaemin… with the way you’re checking out Renjun shamelessly.”
Jaemin splutters on air and he scrambles to catch his breath and wits. Jaemin figures this must be Jeno because no way in hell Renjun would let some random boy toss his arm over the line of his shoulders.
“Jeno,” Renjun groans. He wriggles out of the boy’s grasp but he only wraps him back up again, nuzzling his head against his. Jaemin watches in fascination. Jeno seems to be the exact opposite of Renjun. He’s all loud bold kicks, his netting soft and worn. Renjun is sly serves and metal webbing. Jaemin’s fingers do the weird tingly thing again.
“Um. Yes, I’m Jaemin.”
“So formal, Jaemin,” Jeno says, but Jaemin can’t find it in himself to be offended because Jeno says it in such an earnest way. His eyes are kind and his smile gentle. “You were checking my friend out in a very obvious way but I’m sure he doesn’t mind. At least, he told me he doesn’t. Isn’t that right?”
Renjun says nothing but his eyes are frosty and even Jaemin gets scared for a moment. Jeno senses his friend’s displeasure and he makes an oops face, lips folding in on themselves and he takes a step away from the fuming angel.
“I sense I said something to displease you.”
“No, my dearest Jeno. That would be ridiculous, wouldn’t it? It is my utmost duty to cherish you as a friend,” Renjun replies deliberately, words ice. Jaemin isn’t sure what kind of 18th-century roleplay the two are dealing with as they duel it out with their fancy words, but he simply observes the two.
“Yes, cherish you must,” Jeno comments. “To forget your roots is to forget oneself.”
“To lose oneself would be punishable by death. Much like putting your words where they don’t belong, my beloved.”
Jeno smiles nervously.
“Are you an English major, Jeno?” Jaemin asks to break the glass forming between the two. Renjun looks stunned as if he forgot Jaemin was even there in the first place. Jeno laughs, this beautiful one really, and he shakes his head.
“No, m’ a photojournalism major.”
“They have those?” Jaemin blurts, not really thinking.
Jeno doesn’t take offense because he just giggles, his beautiful tinkling again, and then wraps his arm around Jaemin, now pulling him and Renjun on either side of his body. Jaemin avoids Renjun’s eyes, who is now closer to his face than he’s ever been since they had crashed into each other. Does Renjun have freckles? He could look, if he wanted. He felt Renjun’s eyes on him.
“Yes, my new friend Jaemin, we’re the ones who take pictures of you for the school paper.”
And Jaemin really feels like an asshole but the boy simply waves the look off his face and smiles warmly.
“We hide out on the sidelines and in the bleachers, don’t worry, you wouldn’t notice us anyway.”
Jaemin only nods sheepishly and it’s Jeno's turn to look embarrassed.
“So, I really did know who you were before you snapped our dearest Renjun’s arm in two, but I had to play it cool when meeting you. You know, for my reputation and all.”
Jaemin giggles and decides that he likes Jeno and he likes the alcohol that is finally waving through him, relaxing the muscles that had been tensed for over an hour now. It only took six shots to get Jaemin to fucking breathe.
Suddenly Chenle and Jungwoo are there, blowing whistles they got from god knows where, and they are pulling the three of them back into a dance circle. They seem to know Jeno- which embarrasses Jaemin to his core. Of course, he was the one who didn’t know their fucking photographer. Jungwoo is chanting Jeno’s name and Chenle is wrapping his arm around the boy, both plastered.
“I didn’t know you knew Renjun!” Jisung shouts to Jeno over the music and the people surrounding them in the circle. Jaemin blindly searches for Renjun’s face in their group- Donghyuck’s horsetail smacks him in the arm and Mark’s cowboy hat is brushing up against his neck. The rest of the boys are excitedly dancing all over each other, catching up with Jeno who isn’t drunk yet, but certainly fits in regardless of his sobriety.
Jaemin finally finds Renjun’s arm in the mess of bodies and he manages to squeeze in beside him, their stomachs and legs brushing each other. Jaemin ignores the thrill running through his veins and he gently holds the boy’s wrist in his hand. He feels the cool metal of the jewelry on the tips of his hot fingers. Jaemin says nothing as Renjun’s eyes meet his. They’re calm but yet- vehement.
Jaemin gently pulls on him as they leave the circle unnoticed, his front against the back of the boy as he guides him through the swarm of swaying and laughing multicolor costumes of people. They step over the people who are still tripping on acid on the floor, Renjun looks up at the ceiling as well. Jaemin still stands dangerously close behind him as he keeps his hold on the forearms of Renjun as they navigate through the house.
And the thing is, Jaemin doesn’t know what he’s doing as they step out into an enclosed screened-in back patio, clear out into the open air of the night. But, all he knows is that the house was suffocating. Renjun takes a deep breath of the Halloween dark around him and Jaemin thinks he looks captivating underneath the orange lights dangling from the ceiling and woven between the hanging plants around them. A mini strobe light that sits in the corner of the encasement splashes across his cheek.
“Jeno isn’t exactly someone I would see as your best friend. But I think it makes sense in its own way,” Jaemin comments as he sits on the porch swing. The music and shouts from inside are muffled through the heavy wood of the door. Renjun shrugs and sits next to Jaemin. Jaemin is trying to shove away the thoughts of oh my god our thighs are touching.
The enclosed patio let in the crickets chip from the night and it reminded Jaemin of the moments after a late game, after everyone had left and it was just him, the field goal, the stadium lights, and the sounds of cicadas.
“And why’s that?”
“He’s the complete opposite of you.”
And it really is the only way he knows how to describe it. His toes feel numb from the alcohol and he tries to focus on the creaky oak beneath their feet.
“Is Donghyuck not the opposite of you?”
“He thinks he is. You know what they say, though.”
Renjun scoffs. “Opposites do not attract.”
“The science part of my brain has to disagree,” Jaemin comments. He nudges Renjun’s ankle with his own and continues. “Did you know the original idea was from a French physicist named Charles Augustin de Coulomb? He had basically developed an experimental law that said like charges repel and opposites attract. Then, somehow over time, Coulomb's Law, which was meant solely to assist in The Theory of Magnetism, started being applied to romantic relationships.”
“And where is the proof in romantic relationships?” Renjun replies, crossing his arms.
“Right here.”
Even Jaemin knows it’s an awful pickup line, but had yet to remain embarrassed of his shamelessness with Renjun. Besides, he liked to see what the beautiful boy was going to respond with to his horrid angles of flirtation.
“I know we said you were Bella from Twilight but maybe you’re just insufferable Jacob.”
Jaemin rolls his eyes and he twists his body towards Renjun. He’s sitting there unimpressed, one leg tucked underneath the crook of his knee, halo still sitting on the fluff of hair on his head.
“Jacob does manage to kiss her though,” Jaemin says, smiling. It’s worth seeing Renjun look horrified and splutter over his words. If anything, it makes the warm feeling inside the pit of his stomach grow even more.
“After coercion!”
“Which,” Jaemin adds, “I would never. I would only kiss you if you wanted me to. Shameless flirting is as far as I’ll go- and you said you didn’t mind by the way.”
Renjun flushes and the rose in his cheeks are a stark contrast from the all-white theme he has going on for his costume.
“I did say that, didn’t I? Maybe I just felt bad because you were laying in the middle of a soccer field crying in the rain.”
“Odd.” That is all that Jaemin replies. His knuckles accidentally brush the back of Renjun’s neck that’s resting against the horizon of the cushioned back. He pulls his fingers away quickly. Renjun doesn’t say anything, nor does he move- Jaemin places his hand back in his lap. Even touching Renjun’s skin on accident made him sick to his stomach. Although, in the best way possible. If anything, the boy looks even more flushed.
“Sorry,” Jaemin says in a rush. He clears his throat. “Anyway, you were the one who stayed there with me, you know. If I am so unbearable and not-your-type I guess you could’ve left.”
“When did I say you weren’t my type?” Renjun shoots back. And- well. Jaemin feels hot even in the cool air that’s blowing through the trees and the wire of the screen. His stomach is flipping over itself and his palms feel clammy.
“Just my calculations,” Jaemin replies.
“If anything, I’m not your type,” Renjun says, delicate finger pointing at Jaemin.
“We’re not doing this again, are we? I don’t have a preference.”
“Well, I’m not your typical preference-”
Jaemin cuts him off.
“-What’s your type?”
Renjun pauses heavily and looks at Jaemin through sweeping lashes. “Mine?”
“Yes.”
“Um,” the boy’s eyes wander to the ceiling strewn with lights and back down to Jaemin’s, “boys?”
“No shit-” Renjun scowls at Jaemin’s words- “I mean, what about them specifically? What kind of boy are you usually attracted to?”
Renjun is strangely quiet. Jaemin watches as goosebumps rise on his arms and thighs- he shivers. Jaemin unfolds the blanket that’s resting behind them on the edge and he shakes it out. Renjun watches it all as Jaemin gently covers his legs. The quilt is a bit rough, as it is one used for outside, but it’s warm
“None.”
“Hm?”
“I don’t let myself like…” Renjun plays with his thumbs, “anyone?” It comes out as more of a question than an answer.
“Why?”
The boy snorts and adjusts the blanket over his knees. He simply shrugs and fiddles with the strings on the edges, picking at something invisible.
“Why would I? Why aren’t you dating anyone, Jaemin? You could have literally anybody and you’re single, flirting and inviting boys like me to Halloween parties.”
Jaemin has the decency to be mildly offended. Obviously, Renjun isn’t used to this. And, he doesn’t know Jaemin very well. But who could blame him?
“Well first, it’s not boys it’s just you that I invited.” Renjun blushes under Jaemin’s scrutiny. “And, I’m single because I want to be. Wanted to be. Not everyone is throwing themselves over me like you make it out to be. What’s so bad about me liking you?”
“Because it doesn't make sense!” Renjun’s voice is harsh against the muffled music and silence they’re sitting in. He’s breathing heavily and suddenly he’s turning his head the opposite way. Jaemin stares at the skin leading to the neck of his shirt and he has the urge to place a gentle kiss in the space.
“What doesn’t?” Jaemin asks, voice soft.
“You.” He turns back to Jaemin; his voice is cracking, but his face is composed. The only break he can see is the way Renjun’s lips are slightly trembling- his fingers too.
“Boys like you don’t like boys like me, Jaemin.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“It’s not. I’m everything their friends make fun of, and I always have been. I wear skirts, I like makeup, I love-” the timbre of his words are in a low hum- “fashion and boys and doing what I want.” He tugs on his lip with his pointer finger and thumb. Jaemin can see the inside where he’s bitten it raw.
“So?”
“So?” Renjun replies, incredulously.
“Anyone can like that stuff.”
Renjun laughs, but it isn’t the kind he usually does. It’s bitter and broken.
“No, Jaemin. Girls can like that stuff. Girls that have the privilege of being liked by boys like you, girls that are able to come to a Halloween party dressed like I am without getting made fun of. It’s different and you know it.”
Jaemin scoots closer and he grasps Renjun’s good wrist and cradles the crook of his broken arm in the other.
“I never said it was fair. I said that anyone can like that stuff, that it shouldn’t matter. But what I do know is that I like you. I don’t care that you wear eyestick-”
“-eyeshadow,” Renjun corrects-
“-and pretty skirts that make you look amazing, I don’t care that you dress better than me, and I don’t care that you love boys with your entire heart. The world has been unkind to you, but I can try my best to make up for it.”
Suddenly, Renjun’s lips are on his. It’s like Jaemin’s mind tossed itself off the edge of the earth and into the unknown chasms of the world because he doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know where to place his hands on the beautiful body of Renjun and he doesn’t know how to function as a human being.
Renjun is pulling away but Jaemin’s mind finally clicks and he’s tugging him as close as he can by the waist. His fingers are resting above the top of Renjun’s skirt and the skin is hot to the touch and so soft that Jaemin could mistake it for velvet. His lips are sticky with lipgloss but he doesn’t mind- he hopes that they will stick together forever by the glue of his lips. They kiss and Jaemin catches all of Renjun’s soft sighs and the drag of his bottom lip against his own.
“Sorry about that, I think I was in shock at first,” Jaemin breathes. The tip of Renjun’s nose is brushing his own and he simply just takes in a deep breath and nods once in response.
“Is this okay?” Jaemin asks to make sure. His thumb is running and dipping circles over the exposed skin and Renjun nods again.
“With your words, Renjun. I need to know.”
“Yeah,” he breathes. Shockingly, it’s Renjun again that goes in for the third swoop. His soft hands travel up his chest and find their home on the tops of his shoulders, fingertips reaching toward the base of his neck. Jaemin pulls him even closer, if that was possible, and kisses him deeper than before.
His mind is just playing and rewinding the name Renjun Renjun Renjun Renjun on repeat. It reminds him of the VCR he used to have in his room when he was younger. Pressing rewind and listening to the string of black film roll over the mechanical whirring of cogs just to restart. Sometimes, Jaemin would rewind a movie that wasn’t even finished just to hear the electrical hum.
“Are you okay?” It’s Renjun’s turn to ask. The iridescence of his eyeshadow is reflecting prettily in the light. Jaemin nods and smiles, pressing another soft kiss to his lips. “You’re not freaking out or anything?”
“The only thing I’m freaking out about is that I got a boner. So, don’t look.”
Renjun’s eyes immediately glance down and Jaemin crosses his legs and tugs the blanket over himself in a flurry.
“I said don’t look!”
Renjun’s arms are still around his shoulders and Jaemin’s are still wrapped around his middle. And, yes, Jaemin is very embarrassed, mortification rising on his cheeks- but at least he was honest, right?
“Oh. You weren’t joking.”
“I can’t help it. I didn’t expect you to kiss me and you’re like- really warm and soft. And so pretty.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Renjun panned. Jaemin frowned and let go of Renjun’s waist with one arm to trace his thumb over his cheekbone.
“Not trying to get anywhere.”
“So you don’t wanna have sex with me?”
Jaemin almost falls off the bench. This seems to get a genuine laugh out of Renjun, his amber eyes doing this thing that makes Jaemin feel like passing out. He shifts uncomfortably and wills himself to calm down. He wills his little friend in his pants to calm down too.
“I- I never said that,” Jaemin said, breathlessly. “I just meant that I don’t expect anything. Like- yeah. That. Sex. Because that would be really presumptuous of me. Did I use that word right? I don’t want you to think that I’m just in this for the sex. I didn’t come here tonight like ‘oh I’m gonna rock Renjun’s world’ because you could totally rock mine. I don’t know what you like. I don’t wanna assume.”
“Jaemin.”
“Yes?”
“You sound like you’re freaking out..”
“I’m not. This is just- new.”
Renjun raises an eyebrow. “Bad new or good new?”
“Good new. You’re really pretty.”
“You said that already.”
“M’-”
“Nervous?”
“Yeah.”
Renjun took hold of Jaemin’s hand and pressed it to his chest. He then dragged him by the wrist down to his belly button, the cool of the jewelry in between his digits. Jaemin took a deep breath as his pinky trailed beneath the piercing. While Jaemin’s eyes were trained on his hand disappearing beneath the blanket, Renjun’s eyes were flickering between Jaemin’s mouth and eyes.
The door swinging apart ripped them both from their moment- Jaemin had even forgotten that they were at a party. A tipsy Chenle and Jeno were stepping out into the cold, their breath forming clouds as they laughed. They both looked up to see Jaemin and Renjun, still joined together by their mess of limbs- Jaemin’s hand still on Renjun’s face, his other on his stomach.
“Oh. Hello,” Jeno said owlishly, stumbling slightly. The two looked silly in their scarecrow attire, both wearing the same mess of straw hats. Except, Jeno’s looked like it was still intact and hadn’t been knocked off his head and into a bush several times.
Renjun looked frightened and he began to pull himself out of Jaemin’s arms with a flurry but Jaemin held tight.
“It’s okay, promise,” he said only for Renjun to hear. Renjun swallowed apprehensively and stopped moving.
“You’re not embarrassed?” Renjun asked. His eyes were wide and his lip tucked between the bottom of his teeth. Jaemin tried to ignore the sting that went down his throat and into his bones.
“Never.”
“Didn’t know you two were out here.” Chenle scratched the back of his head and stumbled lightly. Jeno’s arm steadied him, pulling him close and he giggled. Chenle seemed to be charmed.
“I met another scarecrow tonight,” he slurred into Jeno’s shoulder, pointing at Renjun and Jaemin.
“I can see that,” Jaemin said with amusement.
“We match!” Chenle turned his finger back on himself and gestured between him and Jeno but his finger was pointing to the wrong side. Jeno deftly poised and stabilized Chenle’s finger in the right direction, his face beaming. Renjun looked between the two suspiciously.
“What were you two coming out here for?”
“-to make out”
“-to smoke.”
The two tipsy scarecrows looked at one another. They were quiet before breaking into a fit of giggles, hanging onto one another.
Jaemin and Renjun stared at the two, faces impassive and skeptical.
“Interesting reaction,” Renjun commented.
“Your face is an interesting reaction,” Jeno said, gripping Chenle’s finger that he had corrected to point at the two. They both swayed on their feet, stumbling again. “Not to mention, Jaemin’s hand’s basically up your skirt is an interesting reaction!”
“They were not up my skirt!”
“Yeah, and me and Chenle weren’t going out here to makeout.”
“But we were?” Chenle said, confusion lining his face, burrowing between his brow.
“Yes, darling, we were. I’m being sarcastic with Renjun.”
“Oh!” Chenle chirped happily.
Jaemin tried not to dwell on this new fact about Chenle. He felt a small poke on his stomach and he glanced over to see Renjun looking at him.
“Wanna go to my car?” Jaemin asked.
“Do I look that easy?”
“Stop being difficult.”
Renjun laughed that real laugh again and he tugged on Jaemin’s arm, leading him back inside the party. As they navigated and weaved through the crowd, Jaemin’s eyes met Mark and Donghyuck’s, who were waving at him from their dance circle. Renjun tugged on him again before he could wave back to the two smiling idiots.
If someone had told Jaemin that he would end up in the backseat of his car tonight, Renjun on his lap- he would probably pass out.
Because, Renjun’s skirt is riding up his thighs that are on either side of Jaemin and his lips are pressed against his, deep and messy. Jaemin doesn’t even know what to do with himself or with Renjun. He’s never exactly beeped his horn throughout this alley if you know what he means. It’s new and it’s foreign and it’s scary.
All he can focus on is Renjun’s arm around his neck and the weight of his ass on Jaemin’s hips. Jaemin’s hands are resting safely above his skirt, fingertips attached to the sliver of skin there. He lets fingers trail up his ribs and underneath the hem of Renjun’s shirt.
Jaemin doesn’t know what to do. He tells Renjun this with embarrassment crawling up his cheeks and down his neck.
“I- I dunno what… how to really do any of this,” Jaemin says between kisses on his neck. He waits and he lets himself smooth another kiss there.
“I figured.”
“Hey -”
“Don’t act surprised, idiot. I didn’t expect you to know what to do,” Renjun replies, pulling away. He still remains on his lap though, good arm on Jaemin’s sternum. “We don’t have to have sex tonight if you don’t want to.”
“No, I want to,” Jaemin says hurriedly, “I just don’t know… how.”
“Your cock goes up my ass. Or vice versa but I don’t think you’re exactly ready for that.”
“Renjun!”
“What?”
“I know that part. I live with Donghyuck.”
And he does. Donghyuck often went into excruciating detail about his sexscapades with his boyfriend, Mark, and Jaemin had to sit and listen. Donghyuck wasn’t exactly shy about what went down. But, Jaemin wasn’t going to lie necessarily- he always found the stories incredibly interesting. Often replying with “that’s possible? ” and “I can’t look at Mark the same tomorrow ”. He knows what happens with sex- he’s had it. He knows what happens with sex between boys- but it’s different now. This is Renjun and Donghyuck didn’t exactly describe how.
“I mean, I don’t know what happens in between. I’ve never even blown someone before. Oh, God. Renjun, what if I’m bad?”
Renjun is staring at Jaemin, annoyance lining his features, but he remains calm. Almost, like he expected Jaemin to be freaking out. But, Jaemin doesn’t feel like he’s bothersome. He’s already grown to know Renjun’s little quirks and he knows that he really isn’t necessarily annoyed- he’s charmed. Impatient, though.
“You don’t have to give me head,” Renjun replies.
“But it’s part of sex.”
“It doesn’t have to happen every time.”
“But I always give head!”
“Good for you and the women you’ve been with,” Renjun comments, “but I’m saying that you don’t have to. It’s your first time so let me do all the work.”
“Absolutely not.” Jaemin crosses his arms and he looks at Renjun with indignance. He has the urge to stick his tongue out- so he does. Renjun gasps and lightly smacks Jaemin’s arm with his hand that doesn’t have a cast on it.
“But what if I wanna suck you off, not because I feel obliged? I’ve wanted to since like, day one,” Jaemin whines. Renjun pauses with a blush splashing on his face and then he sighs.
“Don’t say stuff like that.”
“Like what? That I’ve wanted to su-” Renjun’s hand is pressed over Jaemin’s mouth and his face is blank.
“I get embarrassed when you say things like that.”
Jaemin licks Renjun’s hand and the boy pulls away in disgust. As if his mouth wasn’t just on his, face deep into each other.
“Sorry that you’re hot. I’ve had like six wet dreams about you,” Jaemin halts as Renjun makes an unintelligible, garbled sound, “do you want me to lie?”
“No! Just- God. You’re so…”
“So you haven’t thought about me while jerking it?” Jaemin presses.
Renjun tries to smack his arm again but Jaemin catches his wrist with his hand easily. Renjun readjusts himself in his lap and looks the other way, out of the car window and to the trees. His nose is in the air.
“I’m not answering that.”
Jaemin’s stomach does this weird flip and he feels himself shift in his jeans.
“So you have?”
“No comment.”
“You’re not Lady Gaga. Make a comment.”
“Go to hell.”
Jaemin points to his devil ears with a wide smile, teasingly. The boy plucks them off Jaemin’s head and tosses them behind him, probably landing somewhere in the front seat or the floor. They make a dull thud.
“I’m glad you think of me. This is good.”
“I never said I thought about you,” Renjun sniffs, poised.
“So what do you think about?”
Jaemin’s palms are now pressed against Renjun’s chest, underneath his shirt completely. Beneath his fingertips, he can feel his nipples brushing against the pads of his pointer and index. Renjun sucks in a gulp of air and his hips shift forward slightly. That’s when Jaemin can feel the outline of Renjun’s cock through his skirt. He swallows down his own moan and wills himself with patience.
“Nothing,” Renjun says, out of breath.
“Surely you think of something?”
“No,” Renjun whispers. “Thinking of you would be ridiculous.”
“Do you know what I think about?”
“Don’t,” he warns.
“Guess I’ll just show you,” Jaemin says to him and leans forward. Renjun follows Jaemin’s guidance in falling back between the front seats, his shoulders resting on either side of them against the backs. The tops of his knees are by Jaemin’s shoulders; feet flat against the seat on either side of Jaemin’s thighs. He runs his large hands up both of his legs. Renjun’s chest is falling up and down rapidly as Jaemin gently pulls one leg into his lap by his calf and lays his foot on his thigh.
The angel watches as he drops a slow kiss to his knee, mouth dragging over the skin. He trails a hand over the top of his thigh, fingers sliding up the bottom of his skirt.
“You know,” Renjun’s voice is shaky, “I thought you said you didn’t know what to do.”
“This is the easy part,” Jaemin retorts. “This is the part I know.” He sets his leg back into place and pulls his other one onto his lap- Renjun makes a sound.
“You don’t have to do that to the other one…”
“Wow, your previous fucks must have been boring.”
Renjun laughs but then he tucks his hand over his mouth in a scowl.
“Not funny.”
“What? I’m not trying to be,” Jaemin says with confusion, his eyebrows furrowed. Renjun pauses. “M’ just trying to make it good. Before I embarrass myself on your cock.”
“Christ.”
“No, just Jaemin.” Renjun goes to snark back a retort but he stops himself as Jaemin drops another kiss to his knee, darting his tongue out at the last second to flick flat against the cool skin. His lips lingered there a moment too long. When he pulls away he looks up to see Renjun watching him underneath full lashes and a slacked mouth. There is a heavy pause between the two and Renjun pushes himself up to meet Jaemin’s mouth.
The kiss is heavy and Jaemin has to stop himself from moaning into his mouth. Renjun curls his fists into the fabric of Jaemin’s top, gripping at the flesh of his chest, toned from years of playing soccer. Jaemin can feel his nails rake into his skin, no doubt leaving red marks behind until there’s a slight rip and they jolt back to look at the small hole torn in the translucent shirt. Jaemin looks up to meet Renjun’s eyes, which widened slightly in embarrassment.
“Fuck. Can I blow you now?” Jaemin asks, hands now all the way up Renjun’s skirt. He can feel the curve of Renjun’s ass and- “Wait.”
Renjun immediately stops his next attack on his lips and looks up at him, impatience setting into the corners of his mouth.
“Are you wearing panties?”
The boy has the decency to flush and he smiles nervously.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“I would. Fuck - Renjun.” Jaemin grips his waist and flips them around in the tiny space of the backseat. Renjun makes a strangled sound at the move and he watches with amazement as Jaemin slides down before him on the floor of the car. His heart is thudding so loud he can hear it in his ears- but he can’t turn back now. Jaemin’s palm falls flat beside Renjun’s hip and his free hand falls beneath Renjun’s belly button piercing.
He hears the boy inhale and Jaemin looks up at him through lashes and messy hair. Renjun watches as he presses a hot kiss beneath the dangling butterfly piece, his wet lips leaving a shining mark underneath the dull light of the moon.
“Do you like it?”
“Like what?” he snaps. Jaemin raises a brow.
“Sorry, m’ impatient,” Renjun breathes out, shifting his hips upward. Jaemin watches the motion with slow, thick movements and gulps.
“Like what I’m doing so far?”
Maybe it’s the way Jaemin is looking at him, pretty eyes that had Renjun melting from the get-go, or it’s the vulnerability in his timid voice that makes his voice gentle, and understanding.
“You’re doing great, Jaemin.”
“Kay,” Jaemin says softly. He noses back against Renjun’s stomach, his hot breath fanning against the open skin there, a tongue lugging across the flesh. He can feel Renjun’s hard-on against his chest, flat against him like a hot iron, reminding Jaemin that he was there.
Jaemin makes sure to place another kiss above his belly button. Nervously, he brings himself all the way back down to the edge of his skirt and playfully bites the muscle there. Renjun shrieks and tugs his leg out of the way but his hands are ready, and they hold him in place.
“You better not do that to my dick.”
“Luckily, I also know that.”
The boy shoots him a dirty look but it’s quickly replaced with a fluttering gasp as Jaemin’s fingers dance up his thighs, flipping up the end of his skirt. And, well, Jaemin’s never been this close to a dick that wasn’t his own before, even in the locker rooms where everyone left their modesty on the field. Jaemin was new to this but it only solidified what he was already sure of- he fucking liked Renjun an insane amount. He knew that sex would be different- and it did terrify him, but Jaemin had pushed it to the back of his mind. He was more worried about Renjun even liking him back.
Now, he’s faced with the real testament to his affections and Jaemin’s never been more okay with anything. His cock is straining uncomfortably against the lace edges of his underwear. Jaemin feels like passing out at the wet stain of precum that’s created drip marks against the translucent material.
This is so fucking hot. It’s the only way his pea brain can describe it at the moment and he wonders why Renjun hadn’t crashed into his life earlier. He’s sure that once his brain fog and horny shock clears he’ll find other ways to describe what it’s like to have the honor to see Huang Renjun dripping like this. Unlike the juvenile descriptors his mind is tossing at him with slamming hurls.
“Um,” Renjun says from above him.
“Fuck- sorry,” Jaemin musters out. He glances back down to his cock and feels himself strain against his own pants. Never mind that, though. Jaemin places his hands on Renjun’s hips and tugs him forward for better access. Without thinking, he grips the back of his knee and hooks it over his own shoulder, angling Renjun’s cock directly in his face. The butterfly anklet that dangles from Renjun’s ankles, jingles next to his ear.
Fuck.
“Even your dick is pretty.”
Renjun moans and Jaemin looks up in amusement.
“You’re stalling,” is all Renjun fires out. He looks embarrassed.
“You’re the one who almost came in your panties at being manhandled.”
“Don’t talk about me or my panties like that,” he sniffs. “Still, you’re stalling.”
“And you’re impatient. Aren’t you supposed to be teaching me right now?”
Renjun snorts and surprisingly slips an affectionate hand into the mess of Jaemin’s wavy hair and he scratches at the scalp. Jaemin leans into it.
“I could if you would fucking do something.”
“Hey! I kissed your cute little belly.”
“That’s the most horrific phrase you’ve ever said to me, please shut up.”
Jaemin rolled his eyes, focusing back on the task before him. Where did he even start? He tries to recall when he’s had girls go down on him but his mind just keeps flashing to the fantasy of Renjun being the one on his knees instead of his previous hookups.
He tentatively ghosts his breath over Renjun’s cock, a small surge of pride sitting in the bottom of his stomach when he sees him twitch. Jaemin looks up at Renjun for reassurance one last time before he dips down.
He’s mouthing at the material like he would do to anyone else before he gave them head. He clears his mind and tries to think of what he likes, not what others like. Slowly, but surely, it comes to him instinctively in waves. His fingers are pulling down the material of his panties, bearing an open mouth kiss on the head of his cock. Jaemin decides that he likes the taste and the heavy feeling of his head on the flat of his tongue. It’s salty, but ultimately Renjun.
Renjun exhales, his breath wavering and he tightens his grip on Jaemin’s hair, tugging.
“More,” Renjun says, gently.
“I like it when you’re bossy,” Jaemin teases, trying to ease his nerves by cracking jokes. Renjun’s unimpressed by it and digs the bottom of his foot into Jaemin’s back. But, Jaemin really does like it.
“What if m’ bad?”
“It’ll be good because it’s you,” Renjun replies.
“Yeah?”
“Mhm. Just take your time, okay? No rush.”
“You’re such a liar, Renjun. Anyone could tell that you’re practically wanting to shove my head down and get it over with.”
“Lucky for you, it’s not just anyone in here, it’s you. So get to it.”
“Ah, I knew your kindness wouldn’t last.”
Renjun pulls on Jaemin’s hair that’s twisted between his slender fingers and he gives a pull that was harsher than before. The sting from his scalp zings straight down to his cock and Jaemin accidentally lets a quiet moan slip out.
“You like when I’m mean to you anyway,” Renjun all but coos. Jaemin doesn’t deny it but he simply responds by taking Renjun in his mouth, unhinging his jaw to slide down. He doesn’t make it very far but he takes the praise in the form of Renjun gasping prettily, cock twitching in his mouth and against his tongue. He slides his right hand underneath where his mouth is reaching, fist curling around the base.
“Just-” Renjun whimpers, “like that, yeah. ” His head flops to the side and the hand that is woven between Jaemin’s strands falls to his shoulder and he squeezes him in a death grip. “Touch me like you touch yourself. That’s the best way.”
Jaemin moans in agreement and twists his hand the way he likes it, following Renjun’s orders. Jaemin’s way of getting himself off seems to be the answer because he’s clinging to the muscle of his shoulder with a vice grip and he has these pretty sounds falling from his mouth that makes Jaemin drip in the tightness of his own jeans.
Jaemin didn’t know he could be this turned on by giving head and felt his hips roll towards nothing, barely scraping against the bottom of the backseat.
He pulls back to drip spit over the top of Renjun’s cock, the two watching it disappear into Jaemin’s fist and he slides it along with the precum. Renjun hisses and his thighs tense at the sight. He has to admit- his do too.
Jaemin goes back down and this time he aims to go all the way, ignoring the embarrassment of the sounds coming from the wetness of his mouth and throat. Renjun’s hand curls around the back of Jaemin’s neck and he takes the encouragement, nose meeting the skin at the bottom.
“Oh - fuck, Jaemin. You’re so good, you make me feel s’ good,” he slurs out, gently brushing back Jaemin’s hair off his forehead. It’s a rare tender moment that makes the butterflies in his stomach heave themselves off the floor and into his throat. Jaemin feels strange- he feels like he’s floating.
“Wanna be good for you,” Jaemin replies, spit and drool lining his lips and dripping off onto his cock.
“You’re perfect, you’re doing so good,” he groans out. Jaemin tries to go back down, but Renjun’s hand stops him and gently pushes him back.
“Wait,” he’s breathing heavy and so is Jaemin, “I don’t wanna come. I wanna come with you inside me. Is that okay?”
Jaemin tries to find his voice but the words don’t come out so he just nods. Renjun leans forward to drag Jaemin up to him, their lips crashing together in a mess of teeth and precum. Renjun doesn’t seem to mind and he wiggles his hips, tugging down his own underwear. Jaemin helps, the image of his fingers dragging Renjun’s panties down his long legs is burning into his brain, playing on repeat.
“Jaemin?”
Jaemin looks up at him as he delicately slips the material off his ankle. He drops them to the side of his knees and tries not to look down at his cock again.
“Are you alright?”
Jaemin finds his voice. “Mhm.”
“Are you sure? You’re not talking my ear off.”
Jaemin laughs and Renjun’s tiny, but soft hands find their hold into his hair again, pulling him close. “I’m serious, we can stop any minute you want. You’re in control here.”
You’re in control here.
“Yes,” Jaemin breathes, “m’ just- I, I feel funny.”
“Bad funny or good funny?”
“Good. So good.”
“I’m gonna need more than that, Jaemin.” He does that rare tender forehead swipe of his hair again and Jaemin feels like melting into the seat. He gushes to Renjun in a flurry of words.
“You’re just- just amazing, Renjun. I was scared of being so clueless when it came to you, and I am, don’t get me wrong, but this- you, is easier than I thought. It’s fun being around you, being with you.”
Renjun has this strange look on his face and he nods, tucking Jaemin’s messy hair behind his ear. His fingers trace the cartilage there and he smiles up at him. Jaemin isn’t sure what to make of Renjun’s expression but he takes it as something positive, and he pulls himself back in the seat and brings Renjun back on top of his thighs. His skirt falls back into place.
“That’s nice, I’m glad you’re having fun,” he says gently.
“Are you having fun?” Jaemin asks.
Renjun cutely scowls and he surges forward to slide his hands into Jaemin’s lifting them above his head and to the back of the seat.
“Does it look like I’m having fun?”
“Right now? No. You have wrinkles on your forehead.”
“Please remind me of why I want you to fuck me.”
Jaemin opens his mouth to respond-
“Don’t,” Renjun warns. He kisses Jaemin one more time for good measure, both sighing into the kiss, their cocks separated by the material of his skirt and Jaemin’s tight jeans.
“Now for the scary part,” Jaemin comments, chest rising up and down. Renjun shrugs.
“You’ll do great, I’m here.”
“You have great confidence in your teaching ability.”
“No, in my riding skills.”
“Ha,” Jaemin musters out, feeling like his breath got punched out of him. He holds his composure and focuses on the fact that he can feel the heavy weight of Renjun’s cock leaking onto his jeans. Renjun glances down between them and then lets go of Jaemin’s hands to shimmy down Jaemin’s pants. Jaemin watches the way Renjun’s eyes fall over the bulge in Jaemin’s underwear but he glances away quickly- like he’s embarrassed to even look. He maintains eye contact with him as he finally slides the black material over the tops of his thighs.
Renjun finally looks down and sharply inhales. Jaemin looks at him in questioning but Renjun just pulls himself back to his lap, legs falling in place on either side of him again. Renjun distracts him with a slow heated kiss, his first wrapping around the base of Jaemin’s cock. He makes a strangled sound as Renjun drags his tightened hand over and up slowly, relishing in the squeezes and sighs falling out of his mouth. They both look down at the sight of Renjun’s small hand being dwarfed by Jaemin- both moaning quietly as Jaemin knocks his hand out of the way to pull Renjun out from underneath his skirt and bring their cocks together.
The image of Renjun’s skirt resting high on his thighs with his cock laying out in the open is enough to keep Jaemin satisfied for years.
The boy makes a sound that zips down to Jaemin’s cock and he spasms in his own hand. He thinks their cocks look nice together, he muses, enthralled by the sight before him. Renjun looks just as engrossed, mouth dropped open in silent groans, his lips bitten raw and crimson. His lipgloss is long gone. The boy whimpers into a hand that he’s placed over his own mouth.
“Jaemin-” he places his hand on his chest, “m’ gonna come if you keep doing that.”
They shift into place as Jaemin lets trembling fingers dance up Renjun’s sides, he slides up the hem of Renjun’s crop top above his nipples and presses a kiss to each of them. His moans fall into high whines as Jaemin licks a fat stripe over one, his other hand pinching the last nipple between his thumb and pointer.
“Jaemin,” Renjun blurts impatiently, “fuck me, please.”
He doesn’t have to be told twice. His nerves wrangle through his veins and he steadies himself, wrapping thick fingers and palms underneath Renjun’s thighs.
“Don’t I-?”
“Don’t you what?”
Jaemin coughs, a blush on his cheeks. He suddenly feels overheated again. He wasn’t exactly sure but didn’t Donghyuck mention this before?
“Like, finger you?”
Renjun laughs, his expression sweet. His eyes shift down to Jaemin’s cock that’s resting against his stomach, precum leaking down the rivulets and to the edge of his underwear. He suddenly felt shy under his watchful gaze, his amber eyes that burned holes into his whenever their eyes met.
“I already fingered myself, don’t worry about it.” he exhales out. Fuck. They’re really doing this.
“What if I wanted to?”
“Next time,” Renjun promises.
He might not have to worry about making sure Renjun is open, but there's also no lube and he’s pretty sure that’s an important detail. Jaemin licks up the length of his hand to wet his dick with before returning it to Renjun's leg.
He lifts himself up gently and Jaemin keeps his grip firm. He swears he can taste his thudding heart on his dry tongue and he doesn’t know where to focus his eyes. On Renjun’s face as he’s sinking down on him, or where their bodies meet, his head catching on the rim of Renjun’s hole that’s swallowing him.
And fuck. It feels so good that Jaemin is squeezing his eyes shut and his head is falling back against the seat, his grip tightening on the flesh of Renjun’s legs.
Sex was different with girls, he now realizes. He definitely enjoyed it, considering it one of his favorite things to do; their warm bodies that were curved and honey-like, always smelling of florals and baby powder, and their hair brushing Jaemin’s chest and cheeks in gentle tickles. Girls were amazing and Renjun was amazing and it was all amazing.
Sex with Renjun was different in the sense that it was one, a boy, two, just Renjun himself. His skin was cool to the touch, yet softer than any silk sheet Jaemin had the chance to rest upon. His soft hair and cool skin had smelled like it had been layered over a warm, woody base of vetiver, sandalwood, vanilla, amber, and patchouli. Everything that had made him, him.
Renjun’s face was broken into a blissful expression and he slid his hands into Jaemin’s, once more bringing them back to their previous position, leaving Jaemin’s hands above his head and against the seats of the car. He wiggled his fingers.
Jaemin gulped at the feeling of Renjun on top of him, the tightness of it all slightly overwhelming. Jaemin dared a glance at him, their eyes meeting in the middle. Renjun only gasped a little more at the slight shift of Jaemin’s hips.
“You feel s’ nice,” Jaemin sighed, throat constricted. His words came out as a whisper. Renjun nodded dumbly and squeezed Jaemin’s fingers so tight that he thought he was gonna break them.
“You look so fucking hot like this,” Renjun moaned out- Jaemin groaned, “With your hands above your head, with your stupid fucking crop top riding up. Your cock feels good too, I knew it would,” he slurred. Jaemin needily leaned forward for a kiss and Renjun granted him one, teeth biting his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood
Jaemin whimpered out a small God and let his tongue slowly fall into his mouth, curling up into him. Renjun rasped around him and slowly rose himself up off Jaemin- only to fall back down, bottoming out. The feeling of pleasure jolted them both and Jaemin had to clench his thighs and remind himself not to snap his hips up.
“You can fuck me now,” Renjun keened. “I like the stretch.”
Jaemin nodded and braced himself. He let his hands grasp the junction between Renjun’s ass and thighs, pulling them apart so he could stretch him even more. Renjun looked at him and whimpered- cutting his eyes back down to where they met. Oh fuck. He was really fucking him.
Jaemin pushed his hips up tentatively, soaking up Renjun’s dry sobs and moans that were filling the car. Jaemin wasn’t exactly quiet either, his breaths were shaky and his deep groans were drawn out in sweet resonances.
“Fuck me like you mean it,” Renjun snapped- but not really. He had that look on his face, the vulnerable one Jaemin had seen only a few times throughout the night.
“Fuck- okay, Yeah. Renjun.” He isn’t sure why he says his name but it tastes sweeter than anything he’s ever tasted and he snaps his hips up, shifting Renjun forward.
“Oh, God,” Renjun garbles out, “Jaemin, love, yes .”
Jaemin feels dizzy with praise and it only makes him more eager- he wants Renjun to feel so good. It’s all he ever wants. He’s fucking him forward again but this time it’s quicker, deeper, and Renjun is gasping into the silence of the car. The sounds are filthy enough that it has Jaemin’s face turning red but he continues on anyway. He secretly likes the sounds of him splitting the boy open.
“Baby,” Jaemin stutters out. Renjun makes an unintelligible sound and he’s suddenly surging forward to messily kiss him, momentarily startling Jaemin. He must favor the nickname.
Love.
His anklet is making a quiet tinkling sound from the jolts of Jaemin’s thrusts and he finds himself moaning in embarrassingly higher pitches. He watches as Renjun’s glorious thighs lift and fall back onto his own, flesh spreading out in a way that makes the ball in his stomach slam against his ribcage. Jaemin fucks him even harder.
“You sound wrecked,” Renjun manages, Jaemin’s cock pressing all the air out of him. He gets fucked forward again and he grips his hand even tighter.
“You don’t exactly sound bored either,” Jaemin snarks, hips stuttering from Renjun’s hole clenching around him. He’s so warm and full and he feels as if he could pass out.
“Trust me, m’ not. You’re doing so good, you’re fucking me so good-” he chants the rest, pressing his good hand on Jaemin’s stomach and lifting himself up in time with Jaemin’s thrusts. “Who knew you could fuck like this?” he gasps out.
Jaemin feels like crying. His stomach is coiling into a familiar heat and his words are snapping against his skin in hot ash and whatever other turn of phrase he could think of to describe the feeling of praise.
“Baby, m’ gonna-” he echos the nickname for Renjun again, pulling a sob out of him, “-might come soon, I think.”
“Just a little more, love,” Renjun reverbs back, “so close.”
Jaemin wills himself to hold on and his back is sliding against the seat from their erratic movements. He finds the new angle to send shocks down his spine and the fucks into Renjun with a slow, but strong thrust. Renjun makes a sound that Jaemin didn’t even know was humanly possible, a shriek bouncing off the glass.
“Oh-”
“Found it,” Jaemin gasps out. Renjun laughs, although it’s muffled and stuttered out by more groans and cries. Jaemin does it again and the boy squeezes his eyes shut, biting the bottom of his lip so hard that it goes white. Jaemin frees his hand from Renjun’s and slides it down his stomach, past the butterfly winking in the dim light of the moon, and over his cock. His fists closes over it and he fucks him again, pulling at the same time.
Renjun’s thighs are shaking around him and Jaemin’s amazed at the sight. Renjun could only be described in one word: beautiful.
“You’re staring,” Renjun snips, moaning once more. Jaemin only smiles and kisses him softly, despite the slam of his cock into Renjun’s quivering hole.
“You like it,” Jaemin whispers out. He says it in the same mocking tone and coo that Renjun had used before him not long ago.
“Jaemin, love-” his voice breaks, “gonna, yeah, fuck-”
His legs are trembling and his usually perfect hair is sticking to his forehead. Jaemin allows himself to slip his fingers through the soft bangs there and push them back; Renjun squeezes his eyes even tighter.
“You look so beautiful like this-” Jaemin slips out. Renjun halts, his stomach caving in, and he comes all over Jaemin’s hand and onto his stomach. His come lands on the edge of his shirt and the sight of it has Jaemin coming too, moaning so loud that his ears flush at his voice. Both of their chests are heaving, shaking underneath each other, and the waves of pleasure still hitting them like rocks at the shore. The tide slowly pulls them out and over.
“God,” Jaemin says, voice hoarse. He looks at Renjun’s skirt still hitched high, his cock softening and leaking come still. He stills as Jaemin pulls him forward gently, letting him rest on his chest, not quite ready to pull out.
“You okay?” Renjun says against his neck. Jaemin smugly notes that he’s just as breathless as he is, his voice even more cracked.
“I’m great. My legs are gonna be sore tomorrow.”
“Try your ass,” the boy retorts.
“Next time,” Jaemin says.
Renjun doesn't say anything. He’s quiet against him and he’s still. Jaemin isn’t sure what to make of this but he lets him sit in their silence, just taking in the deep breaths of his small voice, soaking up whatever time he could get with him. He lets his hand rest on the small of his back, rubbing circles into the exposed skin. The boy is still silent but he hasn’t pulled away.
Jaemin feels sticky and sweaty, exhausted even. But he doesn’t have the heart or energy to pull out yet, and Renjun is still stuck to him, his breaths now even and steady.
Jaemin tilts his head down towards him and fixes his hair back in place for him. Renjun doesn’t look him in the eye but Jaemin doesn’t mind as he helps clean him up. He gently pulls him back and pulls paper towels out from the floorboard to clean up the come between them. Renjun says nothing as he takes one from Jaemin’s hands and wipes down his stomach. He grasps his fingers and Jaemin watches and Renjun carefully cleans between the digits for him.
“Thanks,” Jaemin hums. He gives him a small kiss on the forehead and still- Renjun says nothing. He tries to ignore the pit in his stomach that’s settling into something alien.
“M’ gonna pull out, kay?”
Renjun finally musters out a small “kay” and Jaemin’s palms lift the bottoms of his thighs, wincing at the sore stretch. Renjun makes a sound as he pulls out, an embarrassing squelch and wet noise in the car. Immaturely, Jaemin laughs.
“Ew.”
For some reason, Renjun finds this funny and he finally giggles, face splitting into a rare smile that Jaemin quickly burns behind his eyelids. Renjun doesn’t have to know that Jaemin tries to capture every moment for himself. He’s selfish, in a way. His laugh dies off as he helps clean him there too, being extra careful. It’s silent as he dabs and presses kisses periodically to his fingertips and whatever area of skin he can reach.
The silence they sit in is comfortable. Jaemin is surprised that it feels so natural. Even with his other hookups, no matter how well he knew them, the quietness afterward was the worst part of fucking your casual friends. Twiddling their thumbs unsure of what to do next, he and Renjun didn’t seem to be that worried about their parting ways. Even if the boy was strangely spaced out. Finally, he was the one to speak.
“You said you were worried,” Renjun said, staring up at the ceiling of the car. Jaemin looked at the ceiling too. He looked pretty like this; cheeks flushed, hair messy, flecks of mascara stained underneath the corners of his eyes. While he loved the perfect angelic Renjun that was shown to the world, the mess he was right now was a silent reminder that he was human too.
“What?” Jaemin turned his head towards him but the boy continued his gaze up at nothing. He wasn’t so sure what was interesting about the roof of his vehicle.
“You said you were worried about being bad,” he scoffs.
“Was I any good?”
Renjun turns his head to meet Jaemin’s eyes and he’s looking at him like he’s stupid, like he just told him that Earth is flat.
“Christ. Yes, you were good, Jaemin.”
“Whew,” Jaemin exhales, “that’s nice because I did not know what I was doing.”
Renjun groans and throws his hands over his face, his cast a stark white in the dull light of the car.
They eventually plan to make their way into the party, but not before Renjun is fixing his makeup in the front seat of his car. He pulls the visor down for the mirror, the light illuminating his face. He makes a sound when he sees himself in the reflection and he twists to look at Jaemin who is laying on his back with his feet in the air. He’s pretending to walk on the ceiling.
“Why didn’t you tell me I looked like this?”
He stops his trailing on the roof- “like what?”
“My mascara! My lips!”
Jaemin glances at him up and down. “Oh, right. Sorry, I wasn’t exactly focused on if your makeup looked good.”
“You were just gonna let me walk in there like that? That’s basically putting a big red sign on my forehead saying I Just Fucked Jaemin.”
Jaemin furrowed his brows. “And that’s a bad thing because…?”
Renjun grumbles and fixes everything back into place. Jaemin watches as he shuffles his hair into his perfect part and he adjusts his halo, tapping it for good measure. He pulls lipgloss out of a tiny pocket in his skirt and reapplies that too.
“You’re really pretty.”
“You keep saying that,” Renjun says. He doesn’t miss the way his face turns red.
“You like it,” Jaemin teases. His voice falls back into the same tone that they had used earlier, an obvious call back to the words spoken between them when he was kissing beneath the jewelry from his belly, sucking marks into the skin there.
Renjun freezes from his lipgloss application and he turns back again. There’s a heavy scowl on his mouth and his perfect brows are pressed together in annoyance- and something else.
“Don’t you dare.”
“M’ kay,” Jaemin says in a sing-song voice. Renjun’s pale arm reaches out to smack his leg but he’s able to dodge it in time, leaving an angry angel glaring at him.
Arm Breaker Guy: I had fun :)
Jaemin’s thumb rests above the send button, Donghyuck hovering over his right shoulder, Mark on his left.
“Fuck, is the smiley face too much?”
“I think you fucking his brains out and then sending a smiley face is perfect,” Mark answers.
“Really?” Jaemin presses, voice hopeful.
“No.”
“Then what do I say?!” Jaemin cries, twisting around to face the two. “Nice fuck? Your ass was great? I could basically confess my love for you right now?”
Mark shakes his head. Donghyuck makes a sound and the three of them eagerly stare at his screen. “I’m at a loss here,” Donghyuck sighs. Jaemin erases the text and then types up-
Arm Breaker Guy: You down?
A smack hit Jaemin’s shoulder and Donghyuck looked at him with incredulous eyes, mouth dropped open.
“No sir!”
“What?”
“Asking him to fuck again is so uncalled for! You’re supposed to invite him to dinner or something,” Mark said waving his arms. “You don’t want him to think that he’s being used for sex.”
“What? No! I’m asking if he’s down for coffee again.”
Mark and Donghyuck paused, staring at him blankly.
“Then say coffee not ‘you down’, moron,” Donghyuck snapped. “Try to have some elegance and grace, rather than typing like a 15 year old boy who got laid for the first time.”
“But I did get laid for the first time. Well, with a boy. Which, was amazing. Renjun is so-”
“-So glad you had fun,” Mark deadpanned. “Fix the text.”
Jaemin huffed and erased it again, retyping-
Arm Breaker Guy: Wanna grab a coffee today? :)
“Okay, I think that looks fine,” Donghyuck commented. They were back over his shoulders, watching Jaemin’s thumb hesitate over the arrow. Mark nudged him for encouragement and Jaemin took a deep breath as he hit send. They all paused, waiting for the bubble of three dots to appear. Thirty seconds passed before-
“I think it was too much,” Jaemin cries dramatically, tossing his phone to the side. He threw himself back on the bed, lying face down. A small hand was at the bottom of his back and he could hear Donghyuck.
“Congratulations on having sex though!”
“Yeah,” Jaemin said miserably. He buried his face deeper into the pillows and blankets and groaned. Waiting was the hard part. It was the miserable part. Surely Renjun would reply soon as it wasn’t like they left on bad terms. Renjun had just rounded up Jeno and peeled him off a drunk, messy Chenle. He had offered to drive them both home but he had denied as he was sober.
So, Jaemin just waited. He didn’t have anything better to do. Although, when the next day rolled around and the boy still hadn’t responded, Jaemin felt the familiar burn in the bottom of his stomach.
The days passed achingly slow as Jaemin finished the rest of his midterms, burying himself in essays and research papers. He made sure to spend extra time on his labs, staying in past closing time just to quicken the pace. He cleaned his room daily and he spent hours practicing for the next game. It was easy.
Right?
“Any word from Renjun?” Jungwoo asks, passing him the ball with a quick side sweep. Jaemin caught it underneath his foot and kept it there. He focused his eyes on the net and tensed his muscles.
“Nope.” He then pitched it up with his toe and slammed it into the goal- it made a loud thud.
“You’re not upset?”
“Not even worried about it.” Jaemin found another stray ball and did the same to it, kicking it even harder than before. Jungwoo watched him wearily and said nothing as Jaemin buried himself deeper into practice.
His apartment was the same. Donghyuck had cautiously carried himself around Jaemin, making sure not to upset him or set him off. But, Donghyuck had enough after a whole week had passed.
“So…” Donghyuck trailed one night, sitting on top of the counter. He was dangling his legs as Jaemin was arranging onions on a plate to make a frowny face. He stared at it and then fixed the eyebrow of the onion frown again.
“Hmm?” Jaemin said. He went back to the boiling pot of water and dropped pasta in it- one by one.
“Is everything alright?”
Jaemin hesitated, only for a second. He dropped another piece into the pot and watched as the water rolled over it, engulfing it into a steaming doughy hunk. He meticulously separated the pieces with a fork.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You’re putting in pasta one by one, spent two hours folding your laundry perfectly yesterday, making a fucking sad face with the onions, and you haven’t cracked a joke in-” he looks down at his phone, “in seven days.”
Jaemin plops another pasta piece into the water.
“I wish my head was this piece of pasta.”
“Jaemin!”
“Donghyuck. I think Renjun ghosted me,” Jaemin blurts.
Donghyuck sighs, sitting in their silence. Jaemin had put on a random playlist of calming piano music and it played gently in their quiet. Donghyuck slid off the counter and brushed past the Jaemin to reach for the cabinet. He pulled out their trusty emergency vodka bottle. The alcohol only being whipped out and used for finals, breakups, and major events. Clearly, they were declaring a new category: being ghosted.
He held it up towards him in an ode, twisting it underneath the lights of their apartment to show off the glow, and then he slammed it on the counter. He shuffled out two shot glasses next to it.
Jaemin took the tiny glass gratefully and knocked it back.
“Cheers to being left on read.”
Donghyuck knocked his cup on his and downed his too.
“Cheers.”
It’s cool.
It’s totally cool.
“This sucks,” says Jaemin. His lab partner, Jessica, looks over at him before aiming her gaze at their lab. Her hair is askew into a messy bun and she has her tongue sticking out, concentrating on the task at hand. She glances back at him, similarly.
“What does?”
Jaemin made sure to correct his circuit, just trying to verify the stupid voltage divider equation. But it wasn’t making any sense- all of it maneuvering together in his mind into one garbled engineering mess. He wasn’t for sure if he was writing in English anymore. Jessica slanted her head and bent over to look at his paper. She made a face and then pointed to his equation sheet-
“You’re supposed to use Ohm’s law. Also, you didn’t even use equation numbering by center writing the equation in a separate line on your lab report.”
“Fuck.”
Jaemin unplugged the dual trace oscilloscope and tossed the cord over the table haphazardly. Jessica sighed at their lost data and watched as Jaemin put his head down on the smooth surface of the lab table. He moaned into it miserably. They were both three hours into their group lab, the clock winking back a mocking 8pm.
“Jessica.”
“Hm?”
“You ever been ghosted?”
Jessica laughs and takes off her lab goggles-
(Which- were not needed, but she had insisted on wearing them.
“What if our professor is watching us through the cameras?”
“Do you think Dr. Nolon is watching us at 8pm on a Monday night or if she’s watching reruns of Housewives ?”
Jessica paused.
“Reruns.”)
“That’s what you’re on about?”
Jaemin looks at her incredulously, twisting his body towards hers, face still smushed against the table. She’s peering at him over her invisible “judging” glasses (as Jaemin calls them) and she sets down her paper.
“Yes, that’s what I’m on about. I got ghosted. Like- ultra ghosted. I no longer exist in their mind ghosted.”
She hums and twists her pencil around her finger, looking up at the ceiling in thought. “I mean, yeah, I’ve ultra ghosted my current boyfriend, actually. But we worked it out.”
“Oh god, you’re sick.”
“Hello?”
Jaemin sits up and points his finger at her- she looks at the tip of his digit and then back up at him. “You’re a- a ghoster.”
“Jesus Christ, Jaemin.” She rolls her eyes, gets up, and then plugs the oscilloscope back in. Jessica plops back down and now it’s her turn to point a menacing finger his way. Jaemin scowls.
“Unplug this and you’re dead.”
“I already feel like it.”
She purses her lips and pats his head a few times. Jaemin only stares at the machine as it whirs and hums, and he only thinks about unplugging it once.
“Who was this mystery girl anyway?”
“Huang Renjun. A boy.”
“Oh,” she pauses, “well this is a new development.”
“Indeed.”
“Okay,” she states, twirling a stray strand of hair back into her bun. “So tell me, what happened?”
“Jessica this is confidential information. I’ll have to kill you if I tell.”
She ignores him. “Let me guess- you freaked. Total world disaster meltdown, I’m talking Dr. Nolan’s Housewives isn’t airing anymore meltdown.”
Jaemin gasps. “I did not freak. I was fine, completely fine actually. That’s the kicker.”
“So he was the one who freaked?”
And, Jaemin doesn’t really know. What would he have to freak out about? It wasn’t like Jaemin had then demanded that he and Renjun were official just because they fucked. Jaemin may be pressing, annoying, and shameless, but the choice was ultimately Renjun’s. So what was the deal?
“I guess.”
“How did you two even meet?”
Jaemin decides to fill her in of all his misfortune and obsession with the beautiful boy. Even going into achingly specific details about their adventure in the backseat of Jaemin’s car.
(“You know this is classified information, Jessica. I got ghosted and I don’t want the entire lab section of our course to know that I’m a fucking loser. Plus, just out of respect for Renjun. Look at me, I have morals. Aren’t you proud?”
“They already know you’re a loser.”)
“You know,” she jots down another number, her attention back to their lab. “When I ghosted my boyfriend, I was out of my mind with fear.”
Jaemin decides to be a good lab partner and he helps her keep their physical data track and he writes up their group report as she talks.
“I mean, there was this beautiful guy suddenly interested in me and wanting to be in a relationship? God. I felt like throwing up thinking about it.”
“What’s so bad about being in a relationship?”
She snorts. “Jaemin, in the years I have known you and been lab partners with you- against my will- I’ve never seen you, or heard you, talk about someone. You might wanna ask yourself that question.”
“First of all,” Jaemin glares, “you chose to be my lab partner-“
“-because nobody wanted to be yours.”
“-and that was my personal choice.”
She huffs and snaps her goggles back on (for no absolute reason) and crosses her arms. “Maybe it’s Renjun’s too. Maybe he doesn’t want a relationship, maybe he’s scared to death crying to his roommate about you right now, but you should just ask him. My boyfriend literally sent me an email.”
“Was it one of those creepy chainmail emails with a curse in it? Did he curse you?”
“No, he didn’t threaten to end my bloodline if I didn’t forward it to ten people. And, it charmed me.”
“That was what made you decide to give him a chance?”
Jessica lightly shoves him and Jaemin goes back to writing their report in silence. It’s comfortable with Jessica, even if she’s an asshole sometimes. But, so is Jaemin.
“Jaemin,” she began, peering over to him, “if you really think it’s worth it, reach out. I know I already said that but it’s the only way you’re ever going to get a possible response.”
“Again? It was already embarrassing enough that he ignored me the first time.”
“Give it one more go. After that, then forget about it. Three times would be too much.”
“This is the worst week of my life.”
She twists her lips. “Don’t you think you’re being a bit… dramatic?”
“How do I explain to you that I’m convinced that he’s the love of my life?”
Jessica just makes an impressed-esque whistle and turns back to her work with a tilt of her head and her eyes a bit wide.
“You’re like- for sure? For real?”
“Dead serious. Look at my face.”
She glances at a serious Jaemin, brows straight and lips pressed into a thin line. He points to his face and tilts his head back to match hers.
“Honestly? You just look constipated.”
“You’re worse than Donghyuck,” Jaemin says with a frown. Jessica only smiles and scribbles down more notes.
“I’m giving you approximately,” Donghyuck glances down to his phone, “six hours to get laid.”
Mark snorts from the driver’s seat and Jaemin whips around to face Donghyuck, whom he had banished to the backseat with his shouts of “shotgun!” effectively stealing the seat by his roommate's boyfriend.
“Take it back!”
“Have sex.”
“No! It’s not going to fix anything.”
“It might.”
Jaemin grabs the empty Wendy's bag and throws it at him, narrowly missing his head. Donghyuck just frowns and scowls at him, tucking in his coat dramatically. Mark sighs and turns up the music.
“The only people with us are going to be our friends. I don’t wanna sleep with any of them.”
“There could be somebody at the karaoke place,” Mark adds. “That guy who works the front desk is cute.” Jaemin presses his lips together and shakes his head.
“Never noticed him.”
“What about the girl who brings us the drinks?”
“Never noticed her either.”
Donghyuck makes a noise in the backseat and leans forward, situating himself on the console between the two. Jaemin looks over his shoulder to see Donghyuck’s face incredibly close to his. He bats him away but his efforts are null.
“You’re such a liar. Last time we went you wouldn’t stop flirting with her, we had to pry you from the microphone because you were singing Taylor Swift to her.”
“And you knew every word,” Mark hums inquisitively over Donghyuck’s shoulder. “It was impressive.”
“Everyone knows Taylor Swift. I bet Renjun knows Taylor Swift.”
The two boyfriends groaned in unison and Donghyuck fell back into the backseat, buckling himself back up. Jaemin looked around the car incredulously as they ignored him.
“What?” Jaemin crossed his arms over each other, sniffing to himself.
“You know what,” Mark hissed.
“Oh no. We are not doing this,” Jaemin says vehemently. “I had to listen to you two moan and piss your pants over each other for years. Fucking years. If you can’t deal with me going through my first heartbreak, then I’ll jump out of this car.”
The click of the doors being locked echoed through the vehicle and Jaemin looked to see that Mark had silently pressed the button after his statement. He looked over to him and shrugged.
“I believe that you would’ve jumped.”
“Wow,” is all Jaemin says. He goes back to the cross of his arms and kicks his ankles over each other. The scratch of his t-shirt underneath his hoodie irritates his skin and he leans forward to turn up the music even louder.
Donghyuck leans forward, again, and twists the knob of the car down, the music instantly quieting.
“Listen-”
“-oh here we go,” Jaemin complains. Donghyuck huffs and hits his shoulder. He squeezes his tiny body back between them again but this time, he faces him only, shifting his body and attention towards Jaemin.
“Tonight you’re going to have fun. I promise. We believe you, we can clearly see that no matter how much you joke about this whole Renjun situation, it actually hurts you in a way that you haven’t really discovered yet-”
Jaemin swallows down a foreign feeling and bites the nail of his thumb-
“-and it’s scary. I understand. We’re not really asking you to forget that any of this happened. You’re allowed to be sad, Jaemin. It fucking sucks feeling like that. We’re just asking that, just for tonight, you allow yourself to have a little fun.”
“In short, no more wallowing tonight. No matter how much your wallowing is justified.” Mark smiles brightly from the driver’s seat and he gives a stupid, cute, thumbs up. Jaemin feels himself smile and he just nods at Donghyuck.
It will be okay. He just needs to see Jisung make an idiot of himself, maybe see Jungwoo dance on a table while singing Replay by Shinee, watch Mark and Donghyuck giggle over each other, Chenle spill the drinks over his shirt, and have himself sing a lot of Taylor Swift to the pretty drink girl.
He thinks.
Luckily for Jaemin, he gets to see Jisung swan dive off the table. Unfortunately for Jisung, nobody catches him. It’s a sight that’s burned in his brain. Chenle does spill the drinks only five minutes in and Jungwoo has begun his Shinee tangent.
Jisung now has his bruised and knobby arms hanging over his shoulder, his head tucked into his neck. They’re all singing and doing renditions of Ring Ding Dong, and Mark suspiciously knows the entire choreography despite claiming that he doesn’t really “keep up” with Shinee.
They’re not even an hour in and several of them are already tipsy. Jaemin hasn’t touched his drink yet but it’s because he likes to pace himself. If he gets too drunk, he can’t sing- and that would be a total waste of his night. He likes to remember how many people he held down and sang Fearless to. He likes to see the dread and fear in their eyes as soon as the first note hits- as soon as he twirls around, holding the microphone like he was born to perform. Sometimes he considers bringing a blonde wig.
The drink lady, Tiffany, comes in again to serve them more alcohol but scampers away from Jaemin when she sees him, afraid of his wrath of dramatic singing.
“That’s a shame,” Jaemin comments watching Tiffany slip back into the lobby. Multicolor strobe lights are dancing across their faces and Donghyuck pulls him up from the couch, pulling him close.
“Here.”
Jaemin glances down to see a shot of vodka beneath his nose and an impatient Donghyuck peering from the glass.
“Shouldn’t you be encouraging me not to indulge in alcoholic behaviors?”
“We’re in college booooo, don’t be a drag.”
“This is textbook peer pressure behavior,” Jaemin scowls, taking the shot into his hand. Donghyuck just smiles and shrugs. They take a shot together and he wrinkles his nose at the taste. Mark swoops his freakishly long arms around the two and he finds a flash going off in his face. Jungwoo is the culprit, grinning behind his phone.
“I will say,” Mark begins shaking his sweaty bangs out of his face, “pressuring your friend to drink so he can forget the man of his dreams ghosting him is quite… morally questionable.”
“That’s such a big word for you!” Donghyuck says sarcastically. “I’m so proud of you babe! And besides, I’m only allowing Jaemin to do this once. Other than that, the alcohol will be removed from our premises.”
Mark scowls comically and squishes his boyfriend against his chest, nosing into his face annoyingly. Jaemin watches the two and feels like downing the whole fucking bottle at this point. He’ll pay Tiffany extra just to sneak it in.
And Jaemin, well, he is a man of his word.
Tiffany ends up not charging him for the whole bottle. The lobby is quiet, the only sounds being the muffled booming of the other karaoke rooms blasting their own music and cheers. She just smiles and shakes her head.
“You can have the bottle.”
Jaemin blinks owlishly and is taken aback.
“Um. Why?”
“You didn’t hold me hostage in the room and sing Taylor Swift to me. That’s like- not Jaemin. I was expecting you to throw yourself on the floor and spin around again. Maybe some air guitar at least.”
And, wow. Jaemin really was that miserable. Miserable enough that their drink lady just gave out whole fucking vodka bottles for free, based on the pure observation that Jaemin was a little piss baby over some boy.
“Thanks, Tiffany.”
She gives a bright smile and hands over the clear bottle, pressing it gently into his hands.
“Have fun.”
Jaemin slips back into the room and is met with cheers when they see what’s in his hands.
Jisung is standing on the couch, teetering dangerously on the soft cushions, pointing towards him. Chenle is behind the boy on the ground, worryingly watching Jisung shift dangerously close to the edge, possibly afraid of another swan dive to the cold, hard, floor.
“You bought a whole bottle? Christ, I won’t be able to move tomorrow.”
Donghyuck takes the treasure out of his hand and whistles. Jungwoo is peering over Jaemin’s shoulder and he has his arm wrapped around his middle.
“Maybe you should take it slow tonight…”
Jaemin doesn’t tell them that the bottle was a pity present. He just shrugs and tosses his phone onto the table in front of the couches and grabs an empty shot glass. There’s no telling who the empty shot belonged to, but Jaemin couldn’t find it in himself to honestly care.
“Always.”
Jungwoo eyes him apprehensively and shrugs too, pouring himself a drink. Donghyuck pulls Jaemin in again, mouth close to his ear. “Sungchan and Shotaro are coming tonight!”
“That’s fun,” Jaemin states back, stumbling in his arms a bit. His head is already fuzzy and the strobe lights aren’t helping his vision situation. The hoodie he’s wearing is currently making him sweat an uncomfortable amount, his wavy hair wild from shaky hands, sticking to his tan forehead.
“It is. Which is why you should definitely hook up with them.”
Jaemin chokes and whips around to face a swaying Donghyuck. He’s grinning and his shirt is also sticking to his sweaty skin.
“Are you crazy? No. For real. Are you fucking insane?”
“I’m just saying-”
“No-” Jaemin spins out of his grasp and stumbles back a bit. He shakes his head and goes to pour himself another drink. At this point, he’s lost count at the shot marker. Donghyuck follows him, teetering sideways and gripping the sleeve of his escaping arm. The rest are oblivious to the pair, as they’re all too busy throwing themselves into the night and song.
“Jaemin, come on.”
And, he hasn’t been this angry in a while. It’s just all the- all the assumptions, all of the carelessness of his friends. Sure, they were understanding, allowing him to sulk over some one night stand- but they acted as if Jaemin could just drink and fuck his way out of his misery. He supposes that was the issue, stuffing a bunch of people victim to hook-up culture and mind numbing mechanisms into one room.
He doesn’t hate them for it, not even a little bit. He understands that everyone has become indoctrinated to ignore their complications and find the unhealthiest way of taking an ungraceful fall- it’s what everyone else does, right? But Jaemin can’t find it in himself to fuck Renjun out of his mind. It’s not going to fix anything, it’s not going to magically throw the beautiful boy somewhere else. Jaemin knows himself, and he knows that his options that don’t involve developing some fucking addiction.
He doesn’t even understand why he’s feeling this way. He doesn’t understand that despite telling himself that he wasn’t going to drink his issues into the ground, he found his arm stuffed with a whole bottle of vodka and an impending spiral.
His mother always chided that Jaemin was born with a sensitive heart. That he always trod lightly in her garden of carnations, that he opened doors for anyone that came into his walkway, that Jaemin had held butterflies like they were Lepidoptera hope. He had always fallen in love with the first person who showed him kindness, any sort of attention that diverted from the normative treatment. Whether it be the kind baker girl who gave him extra icing on his lemon loaf, the girl from freshman orientation that smiled at him a little too brightly, the way his first girlfriend had stroked his hair and told him that he was beautiful.
Renjun didn’t owe him anything. Just because they had sex, doesn’t mean that Renjun had to date him. That he even had to like him back. Who even felt this way over someone that they hadn’t even known for a month? He curses the hopeless part of him.
“Why are you mad?”
“Forget about it,” Jaemin says. He plops down on the couch and ignores the way the room is spinning around the sun a thousand times.
“I can’t simply forget about it. We agreed to talk about when we’re mad at each other. You know, nobody goes to bed angry.”
“Communication is stupid.”
Donghyuck gives him a pointed look. Jaemin sighs and throws an arm over his eyes, nestling his nose into the crook of his elbow.
“Is it because I told you-”
“Yes.”
Donghyuck blinks.
“Well, okay,” he says slowly. “Glad we got that out of the way.”
“Indeed.”
They pause for a moment and he slinks away, probably into the arms of his amazing and wonderful boyfriend, Mark. Jaemin sits up to take even more shots and ignores the guilt that’s sitting in the bottom, waiting for him. It doesn’t take long before he’s simply drenched in regret, sweat, and too much alcohol. His feet flop over one another. The boys seemed to have gotten louder and they were cheering, throwing hands in the air, and Jaemin feels like rolling over and crying.
He feels miserable. He is miserable.
What would Renjun be like if he were here? Would he have his arm tossed over the horizons of his shoulders, head tucked into the crook of his neck, maybe one leg splayed over his? Would they laugh and point at the other boys, Renjun trailing one painted fingernail over his arms? Jaemin feels goosebumps rise on his skin at the mere thought of the boy even touching him again.
He imagines that Renjun would smell so nice- as he did last time. Well, whatever he smelled like when he was face deep into Jaemin, cock stuffed up him. Fuck.
Before he even knows what he’s doing, he’s pulling up Renjun’s name up in his phone and hitting the glowing green call button. The button that was just honestly begging to be pressed. Jaemin stumbles outside as he brings the phone to his ear and he slips down the brick wall, sitting in a drunk little heap.
Just as Jaemin thinks the call is going to end without an answer, the ringing stops, and a voice speaks on the other side.
“Jaemin?”
“Renjun,” Jaemin all but breathes out. “Oh. Wow- okay, you answered.”
“Are you drunk?”
“Maybe,” Jaemin says in a teasing voice. The line is silent and all he can hear is Renjun breathing softly on the other side. The moment feels heavy and Jaemin tries to lighten the mood.
“What have you been up t-”
“Why did you call me?”
The words feel sharp against his ribs and he swallows the feeling down, trying to pitch up his voice, anything to make himself feel better.
Jaemin’s words are soft, pliable in his mouth. “Why did you answer?”
This time it’s Renjun’s turn to be silent. The line feels empty and haunting and Jaemin is half tempted to hang up on him, to forget that he ever got the sick feeling to call.
“Because I wanted to.”
“How nice of you.”
“Stop being a smartass.”
“How about you make me?” Jaemin bites out. “Because last time you wanted to shut me up, you had a pretty effective method.”
“Don’t,” Renjun says, voice wavering.
“Did you miss me? You sound like you do,” Jaemin replies, ignoring the boy’s clear warning. He twirls his shoelace around his pointer finger as he speaks, world dizzying around him. He isn’t sure what’s coming out of his mouth anymore.
“No.”
“Sounds like a lie, Renjun. You did answer, after all.”
“I didn’t the first time. How drunk are you?”
“Drunk,” he answers shortly.
“I can tell. You’re not you.”
“You don’t even know me?” Jaemin says incredulously. Then he snorts. “Oh. Yeah, how could I forget about the blatant ghosting? Which, it’s okay by the way. Totally didn’t deserve an explanation or anything.”
It’s silent again and Jaemin begins to think that Renjun has hung up, but the steady drawl of the television in the background of his call shows him different.
“Where are you?” Renjun eventually asks.
“Karaoke.”
“Where are your friends?”
“Inside.”
The boy huffs. “Go inside. It’s cold.”
“I’m just gonna call an Uber and go home. Don’t worry about me. Totally cool. Totally not cold outside. I don’t need your stinky sympathy.”
“ Stinky sym -?” Renjun cuts himself off and then sighs- “don’t call an Uber.”
“Are you worried about me?” Jaemin teases again, voice turning up cutely.
“Yes, actually.”
“Well, you don’t get that privilege,” Jaemin sniffles. He kicks his heels together and tries to haul himself up off the ground. He stumbles and catches himself on the brick wall, scraping the calloused palms of his hands. “Oops.”
“Jaemin, sit down. I’ll be there in a second.”
“No! I don’t want your-”
“- stinky sympathy, I know. Don’t care. Just- God. Stay where you are.”
“Oh, now you care.”
“I always cared.”
“Liar,” Jaemin whispers. He hangs up the phone. He thought it would give him satisfaction but instead there’s a green ugly monster dragging itself up his ribs.
He pulls himself up again, cursing stupid beautiful Renjun, and goes back inside. He quickly finds his friends in their room and he shuffles in, tucking his face between Mark and Donghyuck. They’re talking amongst themselves, laughing in each other’s arms. They welcome him in their huddle and hold him close. They’re still talking when Jaemin interrupts their discussion.
“I’m so sad and I called Renjun.” He claps a hand over his mouth. He’s mystified by his drunken confession. He feels betrayed by his own brain.
“You what!” Donghyuck said, pulling back Jaemin’s face from his chest. He looks at him with an incredulous gaping mouth, eyes wide.
“And he’s on his way right now.” Another hand slap.
“Jaemin!”
“I know. Donghyuck, I know.”
Mark runs his fingers through the bangs of Jaemin’s hair affectionate and slow. He slightly crouches down to reach his level. His eyes are dark and steady.
“Why is he coming here?”
“Because I’m an idiot! And I’m so drunk I can’t even function. He sounded so- so - I don’t know. I miss him. I think he misses me. I dunno. You’re so warm Markie.” He falls face first into his chest and snuggles up to it.
Mark and Donghyuck exchange glances that are lost between Jaemin and they opt to ignore him, gently placing him down on the couch. His stomach is doing fucking gymnastics and he feels tempted to just say fuck it and bolt out the doors. He only makes it outside before his vertigo takes over his feet and he can only hold onto the doorway of the entrance. He can hear Shinee booming through the doors and he gulps to hold down the vomit that’s threatening to spill over. He’s not sure how much time passes.
A delicate voice interrupts his thoughts and he glances up to see Renjun standing by his car, the engine still running and thrumming in the chill of the air. He’s illuminated by the street lamps that almost look like halos over the soft mop of hair on his head and the sleeves of his hoodie swallow his hands whole. He looks like an angel. Especially with his white hair.
“Jaemin? Are you alright?”
Jaemin doesn’t say anything but Renjun steps forward and begins to reach for him- his faint hands stop short of his sleeve and he pulls back, thinking better of it.
“Let me drive you home, m’kay?”
“No thanks.”
“Jaemin.”
“Renjun,” Jaemin states haughtily.
Renjun’s keys jingle between his fingers as he impatiently crosses his arms. Embers of his dragon breath escape from his mouth and into the cold night air. It’s indigo, dark, and Jaemin feels at home just standing there outside out of the shitty karaoke shop.
“Why did you call?”
Jaemin laughs weakly and hiccups, sliding down the cool brick of the wall behind him. It once again scrapes his skin, but this time on his back. Renjun reaches forward to steady Jaemin but his fingers curl around nothing as he slides down onto the cold concrete.
“Because I missed you.”
The beautiful boy sucks in a deep breath and he turns his head away, the fly-aways of his hair spotlighted underneath the street lamps. Jaemin vividly remembers the feeling of Renjun’s hair between his fingers and he wonders that if enough time passes if he will forget the softness.
“You- you shouldn’t say things like that.”
“I don’t let myself like…” Renjun plays with his thumbs, “anyone?” It comes out as more of a question than an answer.
“Why?”
The boy snorts and adjusts the blanket over his knees. He simply shrugs and fiddles with the strings on the edges, picking at something invisible.
“Why would I? Why aren’t you dating anyone, Jaemin? You could have literally anybody and you’re single, flirting and inviting boys like me to Halloween parties.”
Jaemin has the decency to be mildly offended. Obviously, Renjun isn’t used to this. And, he doesn’t know Jaemin very well. But who could blame him?
“Well first, it’s not boys it’s just you that I invited.” Renjun blushes under Jaemin’s scrutiny. “And, I’m single because I want to be. Wanted to be. Not everyone is throwing themselves over me like you make it out to be. What’s so bad about me liking you?”
“Because it doesn't make sense!” Renjun’s voice is harsh against the muffled music and silence they’re sitting in. He’s breathing heavily and suddenly he’s turning his head the opposite way. Jaemin stares at the skin leading to the neck of his shirt and he has the urge to place a gentle kiss in the space.
“What doesn’t?” Jaemin asks, voice soft.
“You.” He turns back to Jaemin; his voice is cracking, but his face is composed. The only break he can see is the way Renjun’s lips are slightly trembling- his fingers too.
“Boys like you don’t like boys like me, Jaemin.”
“Because I don’t like boys like you?” he bites out, voice harsh, rehashing their previous conversation.
Renjun doesn’t say anything. Again. He’s still looking away, face turned towards the street and sidewalk beside them.
Jaemin continues. “Because boys like me aren’t allowed to like guys right? Because I can’t make my own decision who I want to fuck? On who I like?” He stands up and steadies himself on the wall. Renjun watches him impassively- but his bottom lip is tucked angrily between his teeth.
“Well good news! I can!” Jaemin waves his arms in the air. “You don’t have to like me back, you’re not fucking obligated to. Just because I was a pity fuck, doesn’t mean you owe me anything. But, what I can say is that I’m allowed to make my own choices.”
“A pity fuck?”
“Yes,” Jaemin says, voice straight and composed. “I keep thinking about it and it’s the only explanation. Maybe I came off too desperate-”
“You’re so fucking stupid.”
Jaemin stops talking and finally makes eye contact with Renjun. His face is crumpled in annoyance. The boy reaches forward and grasps the material of Jaemin’s hoodie sleeve and he tugs him towards the car.
“Excuse you!”
Renjun sighs with exasperation and tugs him even harder, avoiding contact with his skin, relying on the strength of the material. “Jesus Christ, Jaemin, just shut up.”
Jaemin is too shocked to protest and he watches him yank open his car door. They look at each other momentarily before Renjun is waving his good arm toward the interior of the car.
“You’re letting all the warm air out. Get in.”
“You’re so bossy,” Jaemin mutters.
“And you’re a giant baby!”
Renjun slams his door and he finds his mouth dropping open as the boy slips into the driver’s seat.
“That wasn’t very nice,” Jaemin pouts. “You should’ve just left me outside to be kidnapped so I wouldn’t have to be stuck in here with you .”
“They would bring you back. Trust me.”
“Wow.” Jaemin presses his lips together. “I’m assuming you’re taking me somewhere remote to murder me?”
“No.”
“Shame.”
“Stop being an asshole.”
“That’s my line.”
Renjun makes a strangled noise and he turns up the radio. He drowns out Jaemin’s protests and smacks away his hand when he tries to reach for the volume dial.
“No touching my radio.”
“Your music taste sucks ass.”
Renjun glances over at him and his face is impassive. Jaemin feels the pressure of his stare and protests to himself, looking out the window. The song that’s playing is connected to Renjun’s phone, going in and out as he receives messages. He wonders if it’s Jeno texting him.
The song is slow and dreamy and Jaemin feels his anger crumbling away in the dark of the car, the faint orange and red glow of the buttons in the car washing over his tan skin mellowly. The song was admittedly- pretty. It reminded him of them.
“You shouldn’t have come,” Jaemin eventually says. He doesn’t have the slightest idea where they’re going.
The boy’s clicking of the blinker flutters through the car and then he hums. He turns down the music and his fingers tap on the steering wheel a few times before he speaks.
“I shouldn’t have,” Renjun agrees. “But I did.”
“Why?”
Renjun shrugs. He looks good in sweats, he notes to himself. He briefly lets himself imagine the boy in his soccer sweats, jacket slung over his shoulder, hair messy from wandering fingers…
“Because I wanted to.”
“That’s what you said earlier. I don’t know what you mean by that,” Jaemin complains in the car. He turns to face him and he feels a sense of deja vu, akin to when they had ultimately crashed into each other during practice. Jaemin in the driver’s side, a crying Renjun in the passenger. Now, the roles feel reversed and Jaemin is the one with tears falling.
“I’m an idiot? I guess?”
“That’s not good enough. Why bother helping me when you don’t even wanna see me? When you don’t even wanna answer me?”
“I answered-”
“Not the first time. You left me out in the dark, I thought things were going-” Jaemin takes a deep breath to steady himself “-fine. I had hoped that maybe I would finally get to take you out like you deserve. I had wanted to ask you to Winter Formal.”
“Jaemin.”
“Stop saying my name!”
They’re both looking at each other, but Renjun is the one that is the most composed. Save for his chest rising rapidly, fingers dug tightly into the leather of the steering wheel.
He continued. “I called because I’m stupid- I admit that. I never claimed to be anything but that. I just wish you wouldn’t have answered.”
“That’s not fair,” Renjun complained. “You don’t get to be mad at me for answering your phone call. Sure, I could’ve just ignored it,” he shrugs, “but it was your action, your decision.”
“Just like it was your decision to ghost me?”
“Yes.”
“You could’ve at least told me that you weren’t interested in me anymore. We did fuck-” Renjun cringes- “so it’s just common courtesy. It would’ve been easier just to get on with my life.”
“Can we just drop it?” the boy begs, glancing over at Jaemin.
“Sure.”
He eyed him wearily, not really believing that Jaemin could give up a conversation that easily. The song flowed throughout the car. He hit his blinker again and took another turn. The sound of the chilled pavement cracking underneath the tires was beginning to get on his nerves. Of course, Renjun’s suspicions were right when the boy eventually opened his mouth-
“Actually, no-” Renjun groaned, “groan all you want, Renjun. But I don’t care. This isn’t fair. All I want is an explanation. Not your fucking hand in marriage or something- just to know why.”
The car stops and Jaemin looks up to see that they’re at Renjun’s apartment- not his. He had assumed that Renjun would probably take him back home.
“Why are we at your place? If you think we’re fucking again you’re wrong. I said next time I would bottom but now that you went and did all of this there’s no way your dick is going up my ass. I don’t want anything to do with you eve-”
“No, Jaemin. I didn’t take you here for that . I took you here because I can’t expect you to be able to take care of yourself. I don’t know when your friends are coming back and I refuse to call them and ask. I think I’m the last person they want to hear from.”
“My friends aren’t even mad at you,” Jaemin whispers. “I think- I think they’re more tired of me at this point.”
Renjun has this strange look on his face, illuminated by the lamps above them. Jaemin studies the way his cheek catches the shine, a burnished look on his skin, something so beautiful. He pauses for another moment and then gets out of the car. He watches as the boy rounds the front and comes to his side, opening his door. He places a soft looking hand out and Jaemin takes it gingerly. It feels scary, Renjun feels scary.
They make it up the stairs to his apartment safely, warm arm around his middle, fingers splayed across Jaemin’s ribs. He ignores it in favor of his mental sanity- and his poor, romantic heart.
It’s dark inside, save for a lamp emitting a soft orange glow. His apartment is well furnished for a college student, with actual framed photos hanging up. In Jaemin and Donghyuck’s apartment, they had nailed a singular shopping list to their wall because his handwriting had looked just like ‘the floating shopping list’ from Spongebob. They have like- plants, candles, and décor and shit.
Renjun’s hand in his distracts him from taking in the rest of the apartment and he is leading them to his room. Renjun’s room is even more surprising- it’s full of decoration. It’s the definition of an organized mess.
Several pieces of multicolored material are strung around the room, holographic and glitter catching the light of a bright white lava lamp. Two mannequins are stationed around the room, several pins sticking out of their body, garments of a burning red rubying the bodice. He has various magazine spreads framed in his room hung up on the walls. There are notes next to it, bright pink writing with critiques- Jaemin notes a very cute ‘too much pattern ew ’ in Renjun’s pretty writing. His bed is covered with pillows and sketchbooks.
“Well.”
Renjun is scurrying around him, picking up items off the floor. His ears are pink and he seems flustered. “Um, I wasn’t expecting company…” He trails off and then suddenly tosses a lime green dress over his shoulder and into an empty hamper.
“The Renjun is messy? Who would’ve known? I figured you would yell at me for stepping into your room. Odd.”
“I’m not messy. I’m just…” he looks around and hurls a multicolored pair of shorts over his shoulder with a meek smile “...busy.”
“Whatever,” Jaemin shrugs. He flops himself onto Renjun’s bed and he hears a protesting squeak and a shove at his shoulder. He’s honestly too drunk to care for an indignant Renjun squawking over him.
“You stupid oaf get off my bed! You’re on my sketches!”
Jaemin sighs and pulls himself up, sitting on the back of his calves. The boy snatches the pieces of paper that were underneath him and he puts them on his desk. He clears the bed by pushing off the clothes and then stares at him, hands on hips.
“You’re not sleeping in my bed.”
Jaemin maintains eye contact as he flops back down on his stomach, middle finger up. Renjun’s mouth drops open but he quickly smacks it shut, lips pressing into a thin line.
“You’re done.”
“I’ve never seen you without makeup,” Jaemin notes, amused. He opts to ignore his previous statement.
Renjun’s hands cup his own face and he pulls the hood up over his head. “Don’t be rude!”
“I didn’t say you looked bad?”
The boy glares at him and tightens his hoodie strings, nose scrunching up in a way that makes Jaemin’s stomach erupt into tiny little butterflies. Fuck .
“Why comment on it?”
“Because it was just new for me. You still look great. I mean- I can’t imagine you ever looking bad, but yeah. You look good.”
Renjun flushes and he turns away, tucking another piece of clothing into a drawer angrily. Jaemin watches as he flurries around the room tidying it up, ignoring the studious eyes.
“Renjun.”
“What.”
“I’m sorry.”
Jaemin isn’t sure why he’s apologizing. Maybe because a part of him feels bad for the way he treated Renjun in the car, or the way he broke his arm, or the way he just assumed that things would be fine between them- or it could’ve been the way he was drunk and colonizing his bed. His pillows are soft and silky between his fingers and he burrows his head in them. He repeats himself.
“I’m sorry, Renjun.”
He doesn’t say anything but he feels the tender touch of a palm on his back. His hand is resting there, waiting. Jaemin peeks from the pillow and turns his head to the side to see Renjun standing there, shifting uncomfortably, even if he was the one touching him.
“I’m gonna go get you some water and bread to sober you up. Just don’t go anywhere.”
“Where could I go?” Jaemin complains, gesturing weakly to the room around him. He scowls and turns to leave. Before he makes it out of the doorway he leans back in to say-
“You’re Jaemin. You would find a way.” Then he leaves.
The silent lull of the room is enough to have his eyes drooping, falling into a quiet doze. His limbs feel heavy like he’s swimming through sludge, and for a moment, he forgets where he is. He knows that he feels safe, though. The clinking of a glass being set down makes his eyes flutter open and Renjun is sitting next to him on the bed. He taps Jaemin’s forehead- tap tap - twice, for good measure. He’s holding a white plate with a singular piece of bread on it.
Jaemin wrinkles his nose at the soft mush. “Can you toast it?”
“Can I-” he raises his perfect brows- “toast your bread?”
“Yeah. My sister always toasts my bread for me.”
Renjun splutters. “No! I’m not gonna toast your bread!”
“Aw,” Jaemin mutters out. He then sits up, vision so blurry he feels like he just spent an hour on the tilt-a-whirl at the fair. Except, this time he isn’t throwing up in his mom’s purse. “Then I’m not eating it.”
“You’re going to eat it.”
“Mmm,” he pretends to ponder, looking up at the ceiling. He glances back down to meet his eyes. “No.”
Renjun slides off the bed with a huff, several grumbles, and he’s snatching the plate off the covers.
“Wait!” The boy turns around, expression unamused. “Where are you going?”
“To toast your fucking bread.”
“Oh,” Jaemin says, a bit flustered. “You didn’t have to do that.”
Renjun just stares.
“Did you forget the conversation we just had?”
“What conversation?”
“Are you gaslighting me?” Renjun sputters out.
“I’m drunk and this is hurting my head,” Jaemin whines. He drops back down to the pillows and soon Renjun is whirling out, coming back with more bread. This time, it’s a beautiful golden brown.
“Renjun, you’re a master chef. I have never seen bread this beautiful. I could make sweet, sweet, sweet love to it.”
He flushes and grabs his plate like he was personally victimized, like Jaemin had just offended his dignity, and he holds the plastic to his chest.
“I need you to get sober ASAP. You just proclaimed your sexual desire for my bread.”
“I can’t believe you knew I liked it toasted!” Jaemin says excitedly. “You’re the best! I knew I loved you for a reason.”
It’s silent and then-
Renjun is gently handing him the glass of water, nudging it in his face. His voice is hoarse.
“Drink.”
“M’ kay.”
“Thanks.”
Jaemin may be drunk but he can feel the awkward air around them, the heaviness of every word, sticky sap on his tongue and between his teeth. A deep part of him feels embarrassed and he has the urge to dive face first into the duvet. He isn’t sure why. He feels drunker than ever, alcohol was already making its way through his body, the innate tipsiness that came with downing too many shots too fast. But now, it’s hitting him full force. Like a sledgehammer to the temple.
“I’m so drunk,” Jaemin sighs out. “I think my toes have been stolen.”
They both glance down to his feet and he wiggles the sock around. “Look, Renjun,” he moans miserably, “they’re gone.”
“You still have toes.”
“Did you take them?”
“No.”
“Oh God,” Jaemin lurches forward and tosses the covers over the tops of his feet. “I bet Donghyuck took them. That bastard. I only trust you with my toes, Renjun.”
“How romantic,” he mused. Jaemin nods and flops down on his back. He tries to shuck out of his hoodie but his elbow keeps hitting his head and he feels hot all over, sweaty. Renjun watches him struggle before placing a hand on his stomach, bare skin meeting his palms.
“Let me help.”
“Oh! Renjun! You’re here,” he sings. He sits up and raises his arms, letting Renjun pull the thick, warm, material over his head. It’s over in a flash and the room that went dark is suddenly bright again- he makes eye contact with a scary mannequin.
“You need to get those people out of your room. They just watched you undress me.” Jaemin shivers.
Renjun looks to where Jaemin is glaring and he snorts- a small giggle escaping his pretty lips. He looks amused.
“I’ll make note of that.”
“I think you need to kill them,” Jaemin says, somberly. Renjun full on laughs this time. It’s such a tinkering sound that he gets the urge to record it and play it when he’s sad, when homework just feels like too much, when he’s drunk and doesn’t even remember his own name.
“And I think you need to go to bed.”
“Not until you kill them.”
Renjun eyes Jaemin and then the mannequins. He eventually gets up and turns the plastic bodies around, their faces to the wall, material swinging on their hips. He goes to the other side of the bed and turns the last one around too. While he’s up, he also flicks off the soft bronze glow of the lamp next to Jaemin. They’re left in the dark temporarily before his eyes adjust. Renjun has his curtains split open, the streetlamp outside casting shadows on the wall.
Jaemin nods, is satisfied, and noses into the pillow.
He comes back to the bed and sits crisscross next to him, mindlessly playing on his phone as Jaemin wills himself to sleep.
Although- there’s an odd panging in his chest. It’s a discomfort that shrivels up in a nasty manner, digging claws into his bones, unearthing him from the inside. It’s ringing in his ears, shrill taste on his tongue.
“Renjun?”
He glances down at him from his phone, blinking back at him.
“Did anyone-?” his mouth feels funny- “anyone hurt you?”
Renjun freezes. Jaemin has that bitter rumble in the soft part of his cheeks and he bites down hard enough to draw blood- he looks terrified for a split second. Renjun looks as if he’s mulling over his words, chewing them up delicately, readying to spit out.
He knows what Jaemin means. He knows the weight of Jaemin’s words and what they’re trying to piece together in the broken room.
“A long time ago.” His words are dull and muted. Jaemin feels like there’s a piece of glass separating them. Renjun on the other side, in crystal water up over his head; if he were to press his fingertips against the sheen, against the shift of Renjun’s, it would shatter.
Jaemin lazily overlooks the swing of Renjun’s butterfly earrings that flicker in the snowy light of the streetlamp outside. He swats away the urge to slide his head into his lap.
“What happened?” Jaemin whispers. His fingers are hesitant as they skate into his palm, watching his eyes flicker down to the pads of Jaemin’s fingers smoothed against his skin. It’s fragile.
“It’s kind of a depressing story,” he tries to joke. Renjun’s smile is wry and his shoulders are light.
“I’ll tell you a story, too.”
He chews on the inside of his cheek and he isn’t sure what enables him to make up his mind, but Renjun nods and sighs, leaning back against the headboard.
“Back in high school I-” his words falter and he starts over. “Back in high school my brother-” A brother? Jaemin didn’t even know he had a brother - “had a lot of friends.”
He nodded when he looked down at him, between their hands. A timid thumb rubs over the threaded bracelet on Jaemin’s wrist and his mouth is suddenly dry. Cotton sticking to his teeth.
“One of them, my brother’s best friend, was the closest to our family. I was really close to him too- dating him, before he married my sister.”
Jaemin’s throat closes up and he feels like he’s being strangled. His lips slightly part as Renjun continues the story, throating bobbing, thick spit.
“Renjun-”
“I still haven’t told my family, you know. I couldn’t ruin her wedding like that, I couldn’t be the burden again. Because Renjun is always the one making the ruckus, always the one who has the issue-” his words are soft and whispered, despite the abrasive nature of them, “I’m the child who was never satisfied. At her wedding-”
He breaks off into a laugh. Jaemin isn’t laughing.
“-he fucking asked to hook up. Just like the old times.”
“Renjun,” Jaemin tries again. He sits up, body wavering with alcohol still fresh on his breath, buzzing through his veins. He clutches onto the warmth of his arm, fingers tight against the flesh. “I wouldn’t ever. Fucking ever -”
“I know. You’re Jaemin.”
“Where could I go?” Jaemin complains, gesturing weakly to the room around him. He scowls and turns to leave. Before he makes it out of the doorway he leans back in to say-
“You’re Jaemin. You would find a way.”
“I am, Jaemin,” he confirms. And then, to his surprise, Renjun’s hand is suddenly resting against his cheek and his ringed fingers are splayed against the sides of his face, thumb underneath his jaw. His face burns in the dim of the room and he prays that he can’t see the way rose is splashing up his neck. .
Jaemin asks the million dollar question. “Do I remind you of him?”
“No. You just remind me of what I can’t have.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way. That’s,” Jaemin splutters. “Not even true! I’m all yours, all for you. Since the day I broke your arm with my ‘stupid big sweaty body’ and my ‘big stupid chest’” he echoes in Renjun’s words. The boy snorts.
“The very moment I met you, I liked you. I wanted you. I feel like I’ve told you this a million times, but I’ll repeat it every day if I have to. I like you. I want to do gross couple things with you.”
Renjun tries to pull his hand away but Jaemin tightens his grip and he clumsily shifts closer to him. They’re only inches apart, Jaemin could kiss him so easily- but that wasn’t what he was there for.
“I wanna hold hands when we walk to class, not caring who thinks what, or who says what. Sometimes I imagine us curled up on the couch, having a lazy movie day because we’re finished with all of our assignments and it’s the only way we know how to relax. I wanna go on car rides and let you choose the music, even if it’s god awful. I imagine making pizza rolls at 3am with you, setting off the fire alarm because I can’t figure out the air fryer. I wanna take care of you when you’re sick and be the one to help shampoo your hair- have you yell at me for using too much of the expensive stuff. I just wanna be with you. I’m well aware of how pathetic that makes me sound, how desperate I come off to others, how I’ve already made a life with you in my head, but when I’m with you I can’t find it in my heart to really care. Because you’re Renjun. Sometimes things work out, sometimes they don’t. Despite it being paralyzing, isn’t it better to know something, than to know nothing at all?”
Renjun’s staring at him; he is surveying him. His eyes are flickering everywhere on Jaemin’s body and he feels like he just stepped into a futuristic body scanner, barren and bold. Unapologetically, Jaemin. But, before he can regret his metaphoric world vomit, Jaemin actually, vomits.
Luckily he makes it to the bathroom, having made a mental note when he had stumbled into the apartment. Renjun is smoothing a shaky hand over Jaemin’s forehead as he miserably wraps himself around the toilet. This wasn’t exactly how he pictured his grand confession.
Jaemin rests his head on the crook of his elbow and takes a deep breath to ready himself for the next inevitable wave of puke. At this point, it was just mocking him. He opens his eyes in hopes of grounding himself when he lets out a terrifying, bounding, screech.
Renjun is catching his clumsy body and screeching with him too, legs sprawling against the tiled floor in fear. He’s clutching him tightly.
“What? Jaemin- what,” he’s looking around as Jaemin grips the toilet with tight hands. He points at the shower dramatically.
“There’s a fucking person in your shower!”
“Huh?” He quickly snaps his head in that direction- and pauses. “Oh.” He takes mercy on his drunkenness, lightly smacks his shoulder, and repeats. “Oh my fucking God. Jaemin, that’s a mannequin! Why would you scare me like that?”
“Why would I scare you like that? Why would you have a fucking person in your bathtub?”
“It’s not real.”
“Fuck,” Jaemin groans out, mirroring their previous argument. “I’m so drunk.”
Jaemin wakes up in an empty bed.
Sharp sunlight is breaking through the window behind him, scattering gold sunspots over the mysterious room. His clothes are different too. He’s in a soft shirt, cream colored sweats to pair and match. He feels strangely- clean. He sniffs his skin. He smells great. The signs of a shower are prevalent in his slightly damp hair.
Jaemin sits up in a bolt, whipping his head around his surroundings. There’s fucking mannequins surrounding the bed but they’re facing the opposite way.
What the fuck?
Before he can scream for help it all comes back to him in a crack, lightning against his brain, pulsing through his body.
Renjun is scurrying around him, picking up items off the floor. His ears are pink and he seems flustered. “Um, I wasn’t expecting company…” He trails off and then suddenly tosses a lime green dress over his shoulder and into an empty hamper.
“The Renjun is messy? Who would’ve known? I figured you would yell at me for stepping into your room. Odd.”
And
“I wanna hold hands when we walk to class, not caring who thinks what, or who says what. Sometimes I imagine us curled up on the couch, having a lazy movie day because we’re finished with all of our assignments and it’s the only way we know how to relax. I wanna go on car rides and let you choose the music, even if it’s god awful. I imagine making pizza rolls at 3am with you, setting off the fire alarm because I can’t figure out the air fryer. I wanna take care of you when you’re sick and be the one to help shampoo your hair- have you yell at me for using too much of the expensive stuff. I just wanna be with you. I’m well aware of how pathetic that makes me sound, how desperate I come off to others, how I’ve already made a life with you in my head, but when I’m with you I can’t find it in my heart to really care. Because you’re Renjun. Sometimes things work out, sometimes they don’t. Despite it being paralyzing, isn’t it better to know something, than to know nothing at all?”
Jaemin slaps a hand over his mouth and falls back into the covers. Tiny dust motes float around him in a flurry at the impact and he whispers to himself.
“Holy fucking shit.” He sits back up. “Oh my god. Oh no.”
“I’m assuming you’re awake?”
Jaemin screams. Renjun is in the doorway, leaning against the frame. He’s still in his sleep clothes too, two iced coffees in hand. He raises a brow at Jaemin’s face, the tan of his skin now a sickening shade of pale.
“Doyouhateme?” Jaemin breathes out in one singular hurried breath. His chest is heaving and he thinks about throwing himself out of the window.
“Would I buy you an iced coffee if I hated you?”
“Are you gaslighting me?”
Renjun splutters. “Huh?”
“Never mind. Ignore me. I think I’ve officially lost my fucking mind.”
Renjun makes a sound and he slowly tiptoes in, as if he’s afraid that Jaemin will go hopping and fumbling out like a baby deer in headlights. “I’m also assuming you remember last night?”
He flops on his side and digs his face into the pillow, pulling the duvet over his body. At least it’s warm. Light breaks over his face and Renjun is staring down at him, lips twisted into an unimpressed grimace. Jaemin peeks up at him, cracking an unsure smile.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” Renjun repeats back.
“Did I-” he falters, “I don’t remember showering, though. Did you-”
“Don’t worry,” Renjun says. “You tossed yourself in there. I pulled the curtain closed so you could have some privacy and I was just there to make sure you weren’t drowning when it got too quiet.”
Of course, Renjun didn’t look. Jaemin sighs with relief. What was he thinking?
“You have a remarkable Taylor Swift impersonation, though. You sang all of her top hits word for word, didn’t miss a single beat. Lightning on your feet.”
Jaemin whines and throws both hands over his face. Renjun is pressing something cold against his arm and he cranks open one eye to see him holding the coffee. He takes it gratefully, sitting back up, Renjun sitting at his feet. The sun is spilling bronze over his features and he finds it hard to look at the way he glows in the morning light.
“I’m sorry,” Jaemin says in their quiet grace. It’s comfortable as they sip their drinks, just taking in the day. It feels domestic, tangible- in a sense. If he could, he would snatch it out of the air and press it between pages.
“You keep apologizing. I’m not sure for what,” Renjun muses. “I think-” he sets his coffee between his thighs, “that I’m the one who needs to apologize to you.”
Jaemin goes to interrupt him, to tell him that all is forgiven. All is well.
“Just let me speak, okay? I wanna apologize for leaving you hanging like that. You’re right, it wasn’t just a simple hookup, that’s why you deserved an explanation. The story I told you last night… it’s true, and it’s something that’s changed the way I view relationships. The way I view…” he pauses, “people.” Renjun continues.
“That’s my issues, though. They shouldn’t be taken out on you, I’m working on it. I’m also sorry for the way I tried to dictate how you felt. Your feelings are your own and I should’ve been the first person to understand how it feels when everyone tells you that you don’t know what you’re thinking. You do, and I believe you.”
Jaemin’s placing his coffee on the nightstand next to him and he’s reaching forward to take Renjun’s too. His face is briefly morphed with confusion before it turns into something else- surprise. Jaemin’s yanking on his wrists pulling against him, taking him down in the covers, hips shifting against his. He’s hovering over Jaemin, eyes steady, yet wide.
“Go to Winter Formal with me.”
“Um.”
“Or, at least think about it. I know you’re working through some things, I’m not asking you to date me. Although,” Jaemin adds, “I wouldn’t mind if that was our end result. I won’t rush you, I’ll go as slow as you want. I’ll make it worth your while. Promise.”
Renjun’s breathless, hand gripping his shoulder.
“Okay,” he breathes out. “I’ll go.”
“Great,” Jaemin says with a smile. Then he’s rolling Renjun off him and sitting up. He takes his coffee back and also gives Renjun his. He takes a slow sip and leans against the headboard. Renjun is staring at him like he’s grown an antenna on his head. The whiplash startled him.
“What?”
“You- you weren’t gonna kiss me?”
“Nope,” Jaemin responds. “Not until we’re official. No offense, but I’m not gonna put myself through that.”
“No, yeah, okay,” Renjun says weakly, staring up at the ceiling. “I get that. I can do that.”
“Did you want me to kiss you?”
“Yeah,” Renjun replies, to Jaemin’s surprise. He quells the butterflies in his stomach and he nods, making an ah sound. Well. This is new. An honest Renjun will be the absolute death of him, he thinks.
“But-!” he quickly interjects, sitting up, hair catching the light. “Like, no rush. Just as you said. I don’t think we should do anything until… until we’re…yeah.”
“Right.”
“Right.”
The air feels heavy, but Jaemin notes that it doesn’t feel bad necessarily. It’s the kind of tension that makes his stomach tingle, the tips of his toes fold into themselves. He wants nothing more than to swallow Renjun whole between the sheets, just to press him into the pillow and give him everything and more. He wills himself to calm down. For a moment, he thinks Renjun feels it too because he’s unconsciously curling his fingers around the curve of his coffee repeatedly.
“Whatcha thinking about?”
“Nothing,” Renjun says, words rushing out too quickly. “What about you?”
“Nothing,” he echoes. “Absolutely nothing. Because that would be ridiculous, right?”
“Haha,” he laughs weakly in response. There wasn’t any humor in that.
Then suddenly
“I’ll date you-”
And
“Maybe I wouldn’t mind doing stuff- ”
Oh.
They’re both staring at each other. Renjun gulps and Jaemin presses a hand over his own chest, over his fumbling, thundering heart.
“You don’t have to date me. I know that you’re still going through a lot.”
“You’re not going to fix my own issues with myself. You’re not the problem, that was a mistake on my part, Jaemin. I’m sure that I like you- that I’ve also… liked you for a while. Since I first met you, too. Even if I wanted to simultaneously strangle you.”
“Hold on. Hold the fuck on.” Jaemin is looking at Renjun accusingly, a finger pointed in his direction. The boy lowers it with a scowl, claiming it’s not nice to point.
“I know you did not just say that you liked me the first time you met me too.”
Renjun blushes- it’s beautiful. “I did.”
“So I spent all that time thinking that I charmed you into liking me? But the entire time you had the hots for me ?”
“Why are you so shocked? I literally got in the car with you and let you drive me home.”
“Oh my God, Renjun, that’s normal to let people do! Is that how you really show you like someone?”
“No. I usually ignore them until it goes away. I do that with every crush.”
Jaemin blinks. “I’m gonna ignore you talking about your previous crushes.”
“You can’t be serious?”
“I can’t believe you looked at other boys before me-”
“Jaemin!”
“-not to mention, you wouldn’t even let me sign your cast!”
“You threatened to draw your name with a heart,” Renjun groaned miserably. “It would only be a reminder of the hot soccer boy who broke my arm.”
“So you have a thing for soccer boys?” Jaemin cooed out, going straight for Renjun’s heart and dignity.
“What? No?”
“Wait- don’t tell me. You had a crush on Mark didn’t you? Everyone has a crush on Mark.”
“Not really. I don’t wanna discuss this with you.”
“Who was the last person you thought was cute? On campus?”
Renjun thinks about it. “Maybe the guy who works at Starbucks? You know the one with-”
“-with the pink hair,” Jaemin moans out with anguish. “Everyone has a crush on him too. This is devastating. I don’t think I can go back. I’m gonna be sick.”
“Stop being so dramatic. I didn’t wanna date him! I just said I thought he was cute!” He’s shoving a playful Jaemin clutching his heart dramatically. Jaemin grips the wrist of his boyfriend and pulls him against him, underneath his arm. It should feel awkward- the change of their relationship in one night. With anyone else, it might’ve. But with him, never.
“So does this mean I can actually write on your cast now?”
Renjun grumbles. That’s enough of an answer for him and he’s rooting through the drawer of the nightstand in hopes of finding a marker. Instead, his fingers brush something. It feels velvet underneath the pads of his fingers and Jaemin glances down at his hand to see-
Renjun’s scrambling in the bed, tossing covers off his lap, and ripping his hand out of the crevice and off the foreign object.
“Um. I would rather you not go through there,” he laughs out nervously.
“Why?” He asks, amused. He turns to look at the drawer again, just to feed on his discomfort, but Renjun is tossing himself over his lap and slamming it shut, cheeks a deep pink.
“No reason,” he hums nonchalantly. Jaemin narrows his eyes.
“Renjun?”
The boy is still stretched across his lap, hand on the table to steady himself. Jaemin wills himself not to stare at the curve of his spine and the way it leads down to his ass.
“Yes?” he squeaks out.
“Was that a vibrator?”
Renjun falls limp in his lap and the top half of his arms are hanging over the edge of the bed. He has abandoned ship, mortification more apparent than anything else in the room. While Renjun was having a crisis, wailing out his embarrassment, Jaemin was still trying to be honorable and not shame his ancestors by looking at his ass that was on a very clear display.
“Why are you so nosy? Mind your own business. I’m breaking up with you.”
“I’m gonna take that as a yes.”
“My desk is covered in markers over there,” he groans into Jaemin’s thigh, “you could’ve gone anywhere else in this room.”
“The nightstand is the most common place, you know.”
“Which is exactly why you shouldn’t have opened it.”
Jaemin laughs and pulls Renjun up by the shoulders, it’s awkward at this angle, but he steadies him to face him.
“I can’t believe you have a vibrator. Can we use it? I wanna use it on you.”
Renjun’s stuttering, sputtering, crimson veining through his neck, and he’s covering his face with two pretty hands. His rings sparkle.
“I’m serious,” Jaemin adds. “I think it would be so fun. I could tie your hands up and-”
A palm is over his mouth. Jaemin blinks owlishly and Renjun is so flustered that his mouth is still flapping and flopping like a fish. He fights the urge to outright cackle-scream but instead, a small giggle escapes his mouth, blowing out against Renjun’s hand. He still looks like he’s seen a ghost.
“I want you to know that I want nothing more than to die right now.”
“Over a-”
“Don’t say it-”
Jaemin looks around comically and shifts his head down. He whispers. “Vibrator.”
“ Stop !”
“I’m gonna be completely honest right now. That’s really fucking hot. I am doing everything in my power not to think about you using it.”
“Ha,” Renjun breathes out, palm tightening and fingers gripping his face harder. The air is heavy with tension like it’s humid, and if Jaemin took a needle and stabbed it in the open, water would spray over them. He shifts his hips uncomfortably and Renjun swallows thickly.
Jaemin takes his wrist off his mouth and Renjun lets his hand fall limply between them. It lands on the top of Jaemin’s thigh. The daybreak is still pouring into the room; golden buckets dripping over the sheets, the curve of Renjun’s eyes, splicing open aurous bones.
His lips are soft, like always. He’s warm too. Jaemin feels like crawling up inside the sweater he’s wearing and making a home there, hoping to place his roots there forever.
“Like you,” Renjun mumbles out against his lips. “A lot.”
His words are honey against his ribs and he dips his finger in just to savor the taste. It’s so much sweeter coming from Renjun.
“Me too,” Jaemin says dumbly. Because it’s the only thing his brain can come up with. He’s not sure he can muster any other thought than Renjun. It’s a mantra, a record skipping on a needle, his father’s favorite scratched discs.
This time feels much different from Halloween night. Before their rushed stupor was desperation, wanton want underneath nails, words left unsaid, yet silently spoken into mouths.
No, this time, it was everything they have already said. Their unshared looks were verbalized and made into something tangible.
Jaemin presses Renjun face down into the pillows, pulling his thighs up at a slight angle. The view makes his cock twitch in his- Renjun’s - sweats. The skin of his waist was peeking underneath the risen hem of his shirt, ass swelling underneath.
“I thought you were gonna bottom next time,” Renjun teases into the material of the pillow.
He’s using his good hand to hold behind his back, tangled between Jaemin’s. Jaemin cages himself on either side of Renjun’s legs, face directly in line with his lower back. He kisses the small amount of skin showing. Renjun exhales in a shaky breath.
“I mean, I’m still down.”
Renjun laughs. “Are you prepped?”
“Like-” Jaemin hesitates, looking up. “Are you asking if I’ve fingered myself in advance?”
Renjun cackles breaking the air between them and Jaemin narrows his eyes, nipping his ass between his teeth. The boy yelps and swats him away- Jaemin keeps him face down.
“Sure.”
“Umm..” he trails. “Is this a trick question?”
“Well?”
“I have before. But I didn’t last night because I didn’t think I would get this far. Are you- did you finger yourself already? Like last time?”
Renjun shakes his head. “That means that you get to do it this time.”
Jaemin gulps.
Renjun giggles and Jaemin nuzzles back into his lower back, taking in the deep vanilla scent. He drops another wet kiss for good measure and the boy sighs gently, content.
“I’m not pressuring you, I want to right now, anyway. I was teasing. I don’t think I could top very well with one arm.”
“Oh. I was gonna be okay with it.”
“I know and I love you for that.”
As soon as it slips out, they both freeze. It’s silent except for the clicking of the ceiling fan above them and the birds outside. Renjun’s mistake rings through the air and Jaemin shoves down his laugh, but he fails.
“M’ sorry, I’m really not laughing at you. I’m laughing at this situation. I can’t see your face but I can imagine how it looks right now.”
“We’re not gonna talk about it,” Renjun clips shortly. Jaemin can’t help but giggle- he laughs so hard he’s dropping into the material of Renjun’s shirt and gripping the sheets. “Jaemin! It’s not funny I can’t believe I said that. I don’t want you to feel-!”
“It’s fine. I’m glad you’re so passionate about my willingness to try new things.”
“Not funny,” Renjun retorts against the pillow. Jaemin smiles and trails gentle lips up his spine, raising his shirt higher as he travels up. Eventually, he makes it up to the nape of his neck and the boy has goosebumps lining his skin.
Jaemin bites the side of his neck and Renjun jerks against him before muttering out an apology. Slowly, his lips are landing on his. The angle is weird but they make it work. Their languid kiss turns into something heated and soon their breaths are mingling together in hot hurried puffs. Renjun is twisted on his side, gripping the back of Jaemin’s neck with desperation.
“Can I eat you out?” Jaemin manages to sputter. His brain feels like it’s short-circuiting.
“Fuck-” Renjun moans out. “What happened to the guy who was scared to even kiss me?”
“He wants to eat your ass,” Jaemin replies. Renjun snorts and buries his head in the pillows, fixing his head between the crook of his elbow.
He sits back on the back of his calves and admires the view for a second, burning the image into the back of his lids. He doesn’t tell him, but he still feels like he did in the car, scared of foreign territory and uncharted waters. It’s still a terror that sinks into his teeth and settles between the callouses of his fingers. It’s Renjun, though. And with him, he feels okay.
He slips the waistband of his pants and underwear down. He can still see the wet marks of his kisses left behind on his spine, trailing all the way up. He glances down at Renjun’s ass on full display. His hands are tentative as they slide up the flesh, his mouth lowering to place an opened mouth kiss. Renjun lets out a quiet moan and Jaemin takes it as encouragement.
This would be similar to going down on a girl, right? He just needs to like… use his tongue properly?
“I can feel you thinking up there. You don’t h-”
“No. I want to, really bad. M’ just, unsure.”
Renjun hummed. “You said that last time and then proceeded to make me come so hard I thought I was gonna blackout.”
“Oh. I did, didn’t I?” Jaemin says shocked. He pauses momentarily and then cracks his hand down on Renjun’s ass cheek. The boy screeches- but then whimpers. Renjun goes to turn around but Jaemin shoves him deeper in the bed by the small of his back. He watches the red blossom in real time.
“What the fuck?” he groans out, but it’s muffled by the pillow
“I knew you’d like it.”
“You’re so-? One minute you’re nervous and then the next…”
“Call it part of my charm.”
Renjun huffs. “Anyway.”
“Anyway,” Jaemin confirms, pulling apart Renjun. He really did want this. Jaemin lets a drop of spit fall from his mouth and he watches as it lands- Renjun jolts again, scrambling to hold the sheets.
“Was that-” but his words are clipped short when Jaemin gets down on his elbows, circling his large hands around Renjun’s thighs, pulling him up to meet his lips. He places his tongue flat against his hole, dragging it as slow as he can. A high pitched whine is drawn from his throat and he pushes himself back up onto Jaemin’s mouth.
He takes that as a good sign and buries himself deeper, unhinging his jaw more, trying to swallow Renjun in whole. His hole is twitching against his lip as he pulls away before he dives back in. It’s a strange sensation but nonetheless, it’s hot and it’s making Jaemin’s hips dip down onto the bed for friction. With one hand he pulls his cheek apart even further, using his thumb to pry him open. His hot breath is fanning over Renjun, heat radiating off of him.
Jaemin takes the thumb he used, prodding gently at his hole, only testing the waters. Renjun is making noises that are sending lightning bolts straight to his cock and he tries to focus on the task at hand. He feels his cheeks hollow as he drops his jaw, even more, dragging his tongue and sucking the fluttering hole. He’s never heard Renjun sound like this before.
“Fuck- Jaemin, God, I knew,” he moans, rutting up against his tongue. His voice is cracking already, straining against his arm. Jaemin watches as spit rolls down. “I knew you would be so good. Of course, you are. Fuck you, Jesus.”
Jaemin laughs, pleased, and squeezes his thighs between his large palms. Renjun keeps blabbering, incoherent sentences breaking apart as Jaemin breaks him.
“You’re so good a- ah, everything. Ha, n-” his words die and his legs begin to shake and his good arm grips the forearm of Jaemin. “M’ gonna come. Please.”
“Do you want to?” Jaemin asks. He takes this opportunity to slide his thumb that had been prodding his hole gently, up to the knuckle. Renjun’s knees buckle and he grips him even tighter. “No, love, I wanna use m’ vibra-” he hiccups out, not even able to finish the rest of his sentence.
It was Jaemin’s turn to echo out a “fuck.”
He’s clambering in the sheets stretching to pull open the drawer and yank it out. It’s pretty- a shade of periwinkle that seems to just fit Renjun overall.
“It’s pretty, like you.”
“I can’t take you seriously when you’ve just been eating my ass.”
“Fair enough.”
Jaemin flips Renjun over and comes to lie down beside him. He’s holding the sex toy like it’s a trophy. Renjun looks unamused but still flustered from their previous activities. His usual perfect hair is messy and sticking to his forehead.
“Why are you holding it like that?”
Jaemin’s arm that’s holding it as a torch in the air comes down and he smiles. He gives a quick peck on Renjun’s cheek and the boy blushes, lightly slapping his chest. Jaemin looks down to see that he’s still hard. He’s dripping against the skin of his stomach, pooling. No wonder he was breathing so hard next to Jaemin.
“Show me how to use it.”
Renjun takes it out of his hand and presses a tiny button at the bottom. Immediately the periwinkle shifts into a blur and he makes an appreciative sound.
“Woah.”
Renjun laughs (he will never get used to hearing him laugh so wonderfully) and he grins before he clicks the button again, the toy buzzing even louder. Jaemin’s mouth drops open when he clicks it again- and again, and again, and finally again. The vibrator is shaking in Renjun’s hand. He holds it one more time and clicks off.
“Holy mother of Jesus. Renjun.”
He’s taking it out of Renjun’s hand and climbing over him, shifting his ass on the top of the boy's thighs.
“Hands above your head.” Renjun eyes him and slowly lifts his hands. “Oh yeah- please.”
He keeps his arms there obediently, hips wriggling underneath the meat of his thighs. Jaemin presses the vibrator several times, the highest speed now whirring in his hands, shaking between his fingers. Without any warning, he presses it to the head of Renjun’s cock.
Renjun’s hands are immediately flying down to ground himself but Jaemin smacks them away, pressing them back in place. He’s whimpering, cock lurching, more precome spurting out at the tip. Jaemin watches amused, enthralled, and aching in his sweats.
He can’t help but keep his eyes on Renjun’s face as he lets it rest against the ridge underneath the head of his dick. His face is screwing up, his pretty red mouth falling open, with skin flushing. It’s like the wet dreams that Jaemin’s cried over had come to life. He’s something straight out of a magazine.
“Jaemin, baby- fuck. Feels s’ good,” he all but whines out. His breath is stuttered moans and his head has flopped to the side- he watches as Renjun bites the skin of his own arm to muffle himself. Jaemin shifts off him, falling back on his calves. He takes the boy's legs and presses them up against his stomach, bending them at the knees. His hole is now on display and Jaemin’s mouth waters. He has to stop himself from sliding back down and eating Renjun out until he comes, the vibrator against his cock. He tells him this. Renjun just moans in response.
“Can I finger you now?”
Renjun wordlessly nods. His mouth falls open again when Jaemin readjusts the toy. He flips it back on the lowest setting. He doesn’t want him to come just yet, he hasn’t even fucked him. Fingering Renjun open isn’t as scary as he thought it was gonna be. It’s comfortable, breathless giggles spilling between the two when Jaemin’s fingers miss their mark, or when Renjun has to distract himself from the stretch. He whispers guidance to him, encouraging words.
“You’re doing so good, love,” Renjun praises. It shouldn’t be hot, but it is. He’s clumsy at first, but he soon gets the hang of it. He tells him what he likes, how many more he can take, and when to spit to make it go easier.
He makes a noise in the back of his throat when Jaemin curls his fingers, his hips raise up and when they fall back down he holds his wrist gently. “I think m’ good now.” Renjun’s shirt is still on, as well as Jaemin’s. They look kind of ridiculous but they can’t find it in themselves to care.
But now- Jaemin is nervous. His heart is thudding in his chest and he wonders if he can hear it from all the way underneath him. Sure, last time he was anxious too.
Renjun’s hand is suddenly on his and he’s squeezing his fingers. Even on the edge of coming, he’s still sensitive to Jaemin’s feelings, to his minute reactions. Maybe it was the curl of his mouth that gave him away.
“We’re boyfriends,” Jaemin says, a bit out of breath. It hits him like a train. It’s not a bad thing- not at all. It’s a great thing, a beautiful thing, something so vulnerable and real that it’s swimming in his heart. Renjun is his. He isn’t going to ghost him or leave Jaemin out in the dark.
“We are,” Renjun replies, laughing lightly.
“I’m about to fuck my boyfriend,” Jaemin punctuates. He adds heavy emphasis on the title, making sure that Renjun understands the weight of his words. His eyes gloss over and his lips fold in on themselves like he’s about to- to cry.
“Yeah,” he says, voice wavering. “Don’t make me cry you stupid fucking oaf.”
“You’re gonna make me cry,” Jaemin says praying his wet eyes away. “This is so gay.”
“It is,” Renjun says snippily. He bats away Jaemin’s hand from his own and presses the vibrator down back on his cock. His whimpers and whines distract Jaemin from the emotional breakdown that was just about to happen.
God. When did he get so sappy? He swore he was never going to be like Donghyuck and Mark. The disgustingly in love duo had set him off from PDA and affection for a while. He suddenly has a memory-
A sudden sound of cheers on their side of the field made them both jump, the girls beside them now standing up and waving their arms. It was Mark who had made the goal. Jungwoo ran past him, giving him that ‘nice-one-bro’ hand grasp, and Mark turned to search the bleachers for Donghyuck. He found his eyes quickly and Jaemin looked between the pair with incredulous eyes as Mark dropped a wink Donghyuck’s way.
Donghyuck gave him a meek thumbs up. Mark smiled, eyes crinkling up at the side, and he ran back out on the field.
“You two are sick. Absolutely fucking sick. Mark eats your ass once and suddenly you two are made for each other or whatever.”
“You’re just mad because you’re not getting your ass ate.”
Jaemin slapped the boy’s arm and gave him a rough shove. “That isn’t even true and you know it. I don’t like this new Donghyuck- maybe I should’ve developed a villainous plan that would’ve made this situation never possible.”
“You’re doing the thing where you get super defensive,” Donghyuck remarked in a sing-song voice, “just proving my point…”
“This is my villain arc. This is it,” Jaemin said with a sniff. He turned back around to watch the game, cheering with the crowd as Chenle pivoted across the grass, cutting a leg out to snatch the ball.
Jaemin finally gets the relief of pulling his sweats down but Renjun’s hands are there before his are. He looks up at him through lashes and takes his time tugging the waistband. When he’s free, Renjun leans forward to drag his tongue up his cock.
“Shit,” he hisses out. He wasn’t expecting that. He wasn’t expecting to see Renjun with his dick in his mouth, the swell of his red lips stretching over the tan skin. He looks beautiful like this. His eyes are watering and the amber shade of them are seemingly piercing holes through his own. Jaemin’s mouth drops open as he takes him in with one full swoop, nose meeting the skin. He runs his hand through the silk of Renjun’s and grips at the root.
The boy has his hands wrapped around Jaemin’s thighs and he uses it for leverage to keep the repetition of sucking him down all the way. He doesn’t even fucking gag or hesitate. Jaemin feels envious, yet grateful. He pulls off with a pop and falls back down into the mess of sheets.
“Always wanted to do that,” he comments. “I knew you would look so fucking hot like that.”
Jaemin feels himself blush and he falters.
“Are you blushing?” Renjun questions. The line of his mouth quirks up in amusement and he giggles.
“You giggle at my pain? Noted.”
“Get over it,” Renjun whispers, pulling Jaemin down to meet him. Their lips burrow in a hurried kiss, breaths quickened, cocks brushing together. Jaemin doesn’t need to be told twice and he lines himself up, slowly sinking into the heat of him. It feels just as good as it did the first time. It’s a sort of feeling that sends fireworks behind your lids, tingles down your toes.
“Wan’ it,” Renjun whimpers out. He shifts his hips up and Jaemin squeezes his eyes together tightly. A shock is rippling through him. The boy runs a hand through the mop of Jaemin’s hair and he tangles his fingers through the waves.
Jaemin’s hips snap up and Renjun makes this noise- a glorious noise.
“Found it,” Jaemin mirrors from the last time they fuck. Renjun snorts, although it sounds pathetic.
“I’m already so worked up right now don’t let it get to your head. A gust of wind could make me come.”
Jaemin scowls, playfully, and jerks Renjun’s legs up in the air, flopping around the top of his waist. His hips are now lifted off the bed. Jaemin presses his knees together and pushes his thighs down. Renjun garbles out an “oh” and Jaemin is slamming back in. The butterfly anklet that he always wears is tinkering in his ear as he fucks into him.
He’s right though, they’re both so worked up that Jaemin knows they don’t have long. Jaemin takes the forgotten vibrator and hands it to Renjun.
“Use this as I fuck you,” he says out of breath. It’s taking everything in him not to come. Renjun’s moaning so loud, body sliding over the bed so messily, that he can barely take it. He obediently brings it down to his cock, writhing against the added sensation. Jaemin’s own moans are slipping out as he tightens around him, the sound of their skin slapping together. He can see that the back of Renjun’s thighs are red from the impact. His handprint from earlier is still there, residing.
Last time the wet sound of their fucking was enough to fluster him (and in a way, it still does) but now he finds that it goads him on- that he finds it hot. Renjun’s moaning his name and babbling.
“Shitshitshitshit - fuck, M’ coming-” and “likeyousomuchthankyou ” and “best fuck of my life-” and Jaemin makes sure to watch Renjun fall apart. He wants to see and hear every inch of his face and broken throat as he comes. He does just that as Renjun suddenly goes silent, mouth dropped open silently, hips and legs shaking. His trembling wrist lets go of the vibrator and he’s gripping the bicep of Jaemin so hard that he’s sure that he’ll bruise.
The look on Renjun’s face is enough to send him over the edge. He comes too, a whine escaping between his teeth, a throaty, nasally, moan slipping off his tongue. His vision feels disoriented and the golden coil in his stomach is scorching as he orgasms deep inside Renjun.
It’s silent as they catch their breaths. The vibrator is still buzzing around in the sheets and Jaemin watches tiredly as Renjun fumbles around the blankets, slapping them to find the object. His fingers finally curl around it and he shuts it off, tossing it back to the side. The lull of the morning birds are finally gone and it’s just the sound of the world outside now. Cars whizz past in the street, the world still turning.
Jaemin had already pulled out, silently resting beside him as he stared at the ceiling lazily. He helped Renjun clean up, wiping away any mess that they had made in the bed. They even straightened the sheets and pulled clean new ones on. The linens smelled like citrus, a pleasant and reminiscent scent of him.
He had helped Jaemin find another pair of underwear and sweats- he even helped find a matching hoodie to pair with it. He claimed it was because he didn’t want Jaemin to mismatch, even if it was just them in the apartment; he figured it was because Renjun liked the way he looked in his clothes. Or that he liked dressing him. Either way.
Jaemin’s playing on his phone mindlessly. He answers all of his texts to his friends, assuring them that he’s alive, and that he and Renjun are okay.
Hyuckie: oh god y’all he’s dead
Markly: do you think he got kidnapped
Hyuckie: are u stupid Mark? they would bring him back
Jaemin is glaring at his phone, making sure to thumbs down everyone’s messages, and he sends them a quick picture of him in bed. He’s flipping them off. Renjun speaks next to him, a finger trailing up his stomach.
“Would now be a bad time to tell you that I wanna break up with you?” Renjun asks innocently.
“Not funny. Didn’t laugh. Zero out of ten.”
Renjun goes into a fit of laughter as Jaemin tackles him, peppering him with kisses. They fall between the clean sheets, the world theirs.
They have to stop letting Jisung and Chenle decorate.
Ridiculously giant cardboard snowflakes are dangling from the ceiling. Jaemin watches in amazement as they smack people in the face, leaving a white glitter trail in their wake. There were several winter themes surrounding the ballroom- peppermint walkways, multicolor Christmas lights dangling from ginormous red sashes that dripped in the entranceway, a tree so large that rivals most that he’s seen in his life in the corner...
He’s not sure why their university lets the team rent out the historic ballroom every year, but he supposes that he shouldn’t complain. It had been the tradition for over sixty years now. While the decorations were borderline hysterical- they somehow came together. He attributes that to Renjun and Jeno adding their own flourishing touches to it, artistic eyes garnering more taste.
Donghyuck is pouring alcohol into the punch when Jaemin and Renjun come up to him. He’s got on his best suit and he holds the vodka up in the air brightly, eyes crinkling up as he smiles.
“My favorite people!”
Renjun snorts and waves his hand modestly as Donghyuck hugs him like they hadn’t seen each other only an hour ago. To Jaemin’s dismay (not really) his best friend and boyfriend had become close. He wasn’t sure how, or why, the two most socially inept and rude people he’s ever met had become important people in his life. He thinks it’s best not to dwell on such matters.
What really matters is that he’s dancing with Renjun, hand in his, holding him close. The stupid cast was finally off. This was good news for them- sort of. Jaemin had his chance to bottom for the first time and Renjun took many liberties with his newfound freedom. His ass was sore for days. Fucking days. But it was good, Renjun was great, and they could now switch whenever. Plus, Renjun had eaten him out an hour after it had come off. There could be much worse things in life. It was so weird seeing him without the heavy white block on his arm. It was like- new Renjun lore unlocked.
“Don’t refer to my body parts as fucking lore, Jaemin!”
“Would you rather me call your new arm an ‘npc’?”
“What the fuck is an npc?” Renjun asks, furrowing his brows together. He’s got both of his feet up on the wall of Jaemin’s bedroom, back flat on the bed. He watches as he taps his toes together, phone that was scrolling through Instagram held mindlessly in one hand.
“Non-playable character. Like in gaming,” he replies spinning around in his desk chair. His homework sighed from beside him. It wasn’t going to solve itself.
“Wh-” Renjun looks at him upside down. “No. I would prefer that you didn’t. And my arm isn’t new!”
Some Mariah Carey Christmas song is playing through the speakers. It isn’t slow or romantic by any means, but they’re still slow dancing.
“It’s past Christmas,” Renjun mutters into his shoulder. His suit is crisp, a deep blue. It’s so dark that it looks like a shade of midnight. The satin shimmers magically underneath the lights and Jaemin appreciates it. He also appreciates the matching smoked-out eye he’s sporting. He thinks he looks absolutely beautiful.
“That’s what happens when you let Chenle and Jisung decorate,” Jaemin replies. He spins him out and reels him back in. Her high notes in the background and their uncharacteristically romantic moment make them both laugh underneath the frosty chandelier.
“Jeno and I tried to take it down but then Chenle threatened to break up with Jeno. Then rip his balls off. In that order”
“Chenle takes his duties very seriously,” Jaemin says somberly, teasing. “Also sounds like someone I know.”
“Says you, Captain.”
“Ha,” Jaemin replies, dry. Renjun thinks this is hilarious and he tugs on Jaemin’s hand, leading him towards Jungwoo.
“He’s emotional tonight,” Renjun says with amusement. The soccer player is drunk, arms tossed over Mark and Jeno, and he’s crying. Any other person it would be sad, but it’s Jungwoo, and he’s always been an emotional wreck. Now that he was passing down the torch, he was especially sentimental. He had sobbed into Jaemin’s arms about the new life ahead of him.
“Jungwoo,” Jaemin had said with exasperation. “You’re coming back as assistant coach next season! What on earth are you on about? What new life? You’re going to be living in the same apartment. Going to the same field every day. Hanging out with the same people.”
“Oh, Jaemin! You’re so wise. My baby. I’m so happy that you’re taking my- my place. Take care of my legacy, alright? Play in my honor. In my memory. Don’t let the team forget about me. You’ll do that, right, Nana?”
“Nana-!?”
Jaemin shook his head to clear the memory. “He’s just gonna cry in my arms again.”
“Let him!” Renjun scolded.
“He’s coming back next season-”
“Jaemin!”
A strong, muscled Jungwoo is suddenly in his arms. Mark and Jeno only shake their shoulders, as if they were saying what can you do about it? Renjun is eyeing him to make sure he isn’t rude and he sighs, letting himself wrap his arms around the Captain. He will always refer to him as Captain, no matter what. He supposes that it will… feel different without him on the field. Something might feel off for a while, but the idea of him cheering them on from the sidelines, practicing with them, yelling at them just like old times would be enough to fill the temporary hole in his heart.
His friends are laughing around him, champagne glitters of strobes, and kaleidoscopic hums are reverberating through the room. Donghyuck has his head resting on Mark’s shoulder, Chenle and Jeno are shoving strawberries in each other’s mouths with wide smiles, Jungwoo is still ranting on about his best plays, and Jisung is watching with a twist of his mouth.
A long time ago, Jaemin didn’t know where he was going to end up in life. All he really knew was soccer, class, and his friends. The future was some abstract concept that only loomed over his room, floating through time as he passed through mile markers of his own story. He still didn’t know what he was going to be- but, he didn’t know ten years ago either. Or the years before that as well. It’s a thinly veiled idea, a supernova of what if and it’s uncomfortable. All he really knows is that he loves the moments he gets to press between pages, staining them with inkblots of memory.
Donghyuck had once said-
“You love people with your all and you aren’t afraid of someone not returning the love. For fucks sake, you had literally greeted me with open arms and a blinding smile the first day we met. Jaemin, you’re the type of boy that girls and boys drew red hearts on their binders for, give up their entire summer just to catch the short attention span of your love- you’re a dream.”
And he isn’t sure about all of that. When he looks in the mirror he isn’t sure what he’s seeing back. Maybe the shell of his childhood, a cyborg waiting for metallic commands- or just human. But he takes Donghyuck’s word for it, he trusts the words coming from his best friend's mouth, and he believes every affirming phrase that comes from his boyfriend. Beautiful, enigma, sonic boom, startling Renjun.
When he tells Jaemin that everything will be alright, he gives credence to him. If things ever do fall apart, as life inevitably does sometimes, he will pick up the pieces himself.
“You okay?” Renjun asks on the way back, swinging their hands together. It’s cold and his boyfriend’s warm hands are like dragon embers against his skin.
“M’ just thinking.”
“About?”
“Everything. You know that my tiny pea brain can’t handle it.”
“Oh, God. That’s scary, don’t do that,” Renjun teases. Kind of. But it’s okay. It really, really, really is. He has so much life ahead of him, so much more to feel, and many more kisses to share with scared Renjun. He looks over at him
His flyaways are in a halo around his head from the snowy glaze of the street light above them, the wind is tapping against their ears, and the ground is wet. Renjun has this look on his face. He’s talking about how he wants Jaemin to help him take down the Christmas tree in his apartment, discussing how they need to line out their class schedule so they can have a gap in between to meet up and eat on campus- all the while, Jaemin is harnessing a foreign feeling in his chest.
One morning, while Renjun is curled up on the couch, reading his favorite book, Jaemin is watching him under a more scrutinized lens.
And, Jaemin has this strange feeling.
There’s a pull in his heart, a pluck of a string thrumming through his knees. It makes him feel feeble like he’s nothing but a space cadet helming through the stars, and as if he’s lost control of the steering panel before him. A daybreak fills his chest and Jaemin gingerly takes it out, bottling it in a jar. It’s fragile. It’s love.
It’s an amusing, fickle thing. He had foreseen a grandiose eureka moment, arrows numbing, and slipping bones together. Instead, it came in the form of a simple, sunny, early Sunday morning. The world didn’t stop spinning, gravity wasn’t shifted- nothing stopped. It was so… easy. Easy as leaning tired heads on shoulders, kicking a soccer ball, folding linens together, switching on the television, and singing with friends.
As if, love was always meant to be this familiar.