Communication is Their Kink

by indifferentyoongi

Summary:

Donghyuck and Chenle would have had great advice for this whole situation, probably. Chenle was so pragmatic, and Donghyuck was most likely to have had a friend of an ex-boyfriend’s friend who was in a poly relationship with his college professor or something ludicrous. And meeting Mark felt like the solution to finally breaking through the mental block he had for sharing this situation with his friends. They’d have all the same questions about Mark as he had. It’d be so much easier to get their perspectives if Renjun was armed with the full picture.

He wanted Mark in frame.

And Jaemin wanted Mark’s girlfriend to be there, too.

| | |

Or, Renjun goes on a date with beautiful, successful Jaemin, only to learn he’s poly and in a committed relationship with Mark Lee. He chooses to keep seeing him, getting to know Mark, Mark’s girlfriend, and the life they’ve built together, one that Renjun never expected to want so strongly to be apart of.

Notes:

As is always the case, I know nothing about anything.

Happy reading, friends~

Congratulations, the email read. You’ve been selected as our Featured Artist for August! We were inspired by your work, and we’d love to showcase your pieces across our socials all throughout the month of August. All we ask is that you continue to showcase products from the “Don’t Skip a Meal” lifestyle line, and we’ll be sure to meet your rate sheet. Our social media manager and business manager will be following up shortly. Congratulations again, Renjun! We’re so excited to be collaborating with such a talented artist.

That had been almost a year ago now. Everything was taken care of digitally, with Renjun emailing over his designs, getting paid through direct deposit, and ultimately living off that brand-endorsement paycheck for the five months it took for him to set up his very own online shop. He couldn’t sell the pieces with Don’t Skip a Meal’s licensed products, but he used the same style and aesthetic—bright and soft and busy with the comforts of everyday life—to brand the prints and stationary he could barely keep stocked in the studio office he rented downtown to prepare and ship orders out of. 

His parents, fortunately, were not so traditional to disown their only son for being a double whammy of gay and a self-employed artist at the age of 27. Maybe him being single is where they really drew the line.

After a long call with his mom where she smoothly transitioned from praising him for a successful restock of his shop to suggesting he might now be stable enough in his career to consider dating again, he re-downloaded the dating app which his phone helpfully offloaded once he graduated art school. Something about matching online, enduring the terrible flirting, and hoping the guy wasn’t a weirdo in person felt so…juvenile. By the time Renjun came to terms with being a freelancer who had to sell himself and swallow the ensuing rejection—rather than being the salaried graphic designer to a major company as he once dreamed in high school—he simply had no energy left for dating games.

But yeah, maybe his mom was right. His life was different now. He had two whole bedrooms in his apartment, a savings account with a positive balance. A car that he’d pay off before he was thirty. So he chose the cutest pictures Donghyuck had taken of him over the last year while swallowing down the embarrassing implication that he considered himself desirable and wanted other people to find him desirable, too. Filling out the questionnaire that the app used to generate each user’s bio was slightly less mortifying. No, he wasn’t religious. Yes, he was a college graduate. Unsure was the most honest way to describe his interest in someday becoming a parent.

The whole ordeal was done in less than thirty minutes, and Renjun managed to even feel insecure about that. Should he care more? Spend an hour filtering and face tuning his pictures? Send drafts of his profile to his best friend for notes? 

“Whatever,” he ultimately decided. Pushing “publish” on the stupid profile, Renjun shoved his phone under his pillow for his morning-self to deal with. 

| | | 

It actually took more than one morning—a whole month’s worth, in fact—for Renjun to match with someone he even kind of liked. And then the date itself was boring, awkward, overpriced.

“Your standards are way too high,” Jisung concluded.

Renjun drove straight from the restaurant he was underdressed for to the apartment Jisung shared with Chenle downtown. 

“You wouldn’t understand,” Renjun returned. He flopped onto the couch cushion which didn’t have the ramen stain Chenle never let Jisung live down. “You don’t put yourself out there enough to even fathom how demoralizing it is to invest in someone only for them to not even have a good friend vibe. Work acquaintances at best. If I was desperate.”

The guy didn’t technically exhibit any of Renjun’s non-negotiables: being mean to the waitstaff, distrustful of the arts, or overly invested in mbti or blood type analysis. He was simply in the startup world, absorbed in finances and technology. Renjun probably should have seen the bland date coming, but their chats online had been fine enough. He’d sent Renjun cat memes and therefore Renjun had no choice but to give it a chance.

Jisung joined him on the couch, sitting squarely atop the stain, probably on principle. Renjun endured both Jisung and Chenle recounting the fight they had over whether they should finance a new couch after the great poop-hands incident of 2019. Really, it was a miracle they were not just still roommates, but friends. 

“Hey, I’m working on it.” Jisung fiddled with his fingers. “My therapist suggested I could make a profile and then not do anything with it for as long as it takes to feel comfortable.”

“And you don’t have to go on apps at all,” Chenle chimed in from the kitchen, where he was making Renjun a cup of tea. “You meet plenty of people through dance, and you have social butterflies as best friends. You’re bound to meet someone eventually.”

Jisung nodded, smiled a little smile at his hands.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to make you feel like shit because of your anxiety. I’m—I didn’t mean it like that, I promise.” As if Renjun hadn’t put his foot in his mouth enough while on his date. When he’d told the milquetoast that he was an only child, Renjun had felt the need to add that he wasn’t a serial killer. Like that was everyone’s first only-child thought.

“No, I know what you mean. You’re the one who has actually been in a long-term relationship before, so it makes sense that you’d know what feels right and what doesn’t.”

Jisung was being generous. Renjun dated his high school boyfriend for the first year and a half of college. They tried their best to make the long-distance thing work, but Jun was just as much of a socializer as Renjun was, and when they both wanted to live the college experience to the fullest, they let each other go. That was the first and last time Renjun dated seriously. Everything since then was casual hook ups and unresolved situationships. 

“Don’t worry, though, if I do find someone who doesn’t immediately give me the ick, you and Chenle will be the ultimate test. I won’t like them if they don’t click with you both.”

“Be careful, they might fall in love with me instead.” Chenle flashed a smile full of teeth, and Renjun knew that even if he was kidding, it was totally possible. Smart as hell and more down to earth than anyone Renjun had ever met, Chenle was a total catch. 

His tea-making was perfect, too, as if his face wasn’t enough. Renjun felt his whole body go warm as he took the first sip from the porcelain cup Chenle handed him. 

This is what he wanted a date to feel like. Afternoon tea with his best friends on a sunny day, with the windows open. With kissing, or whatever. 

But then Jisung was spilling his own cup of tea on the couch, and Chenle was yelling, and Renjun was laughing so unexpectedly he almost choked.

Maybe not exactly like this, then. But something close.

| | |

He was sketching a new print idea when his phone pinged. Renjun didn’t pay it any mind at first. He was even prone to locking his phone in a desk drawer to stay on task while he worked, but his cousin’s kid was getting her first check-up at the pediatrician this afternoon, so he made sure to have the volume up and within reach. Once the trunk of the tree house he was working on was mostly drafted, Renjun checked his notifications.

“Ah, I think I remember him…” he mumbled to himself, clicking on the profile of the person who messaged him through the dating app. The night before, he’d carelessly swiped to tire himself out after two glasses of wine with his friend, Yangyang. If nothing else, it was a way to pass the time when he was bored. 

Oh, this was the guy with the teeth. Like Chenle, but…rounder?…this Jaemin guy’s smile was blinding, a pretty complement to the light brown hair in his profile picture. Renjun didn’t remember going through his other pictures or looking through his bio in any kind of detail. There were several shots of his cats, and at least two pictures that could have come straight out of a magazine. What in the world this person was doing matching with Renjun, he had no idea.

over/under on this being a catfish? Renjun asked Jisung, sending him screenshots of Jaemin’s profile before deciding how to respond to the message he hadn’t yet properly read.

They were the same age, both animal lovers, gay, frequent travelers, college grads. If Chenle had made this guy up to troll Renjun specifically, he wouldn’t exactly be surprised. 

isn’t that the creator of Don’t Skip a Meal?
my company did a promotional video for him a few years ago

???
HUH??????

That didn’t make sense. The odds were astronomical. No way was it possible for anyone involved in a company Renjun was commissioned for to then end up in his DMs, much less the founder. Jisung had to be mistaken.

why didn’t you mention this when i got the artist of the month thing?

some random job i did years before wasn’t relevant to you getting that huge exposure, come on. i literally didn’t even think about it
but i definitely remember him. i think he had more creative input back then because the brand was smaller.
he was on set to arrange everything we were dancing around
honestly, it didn’t make much sense to have a dance crew distracting from the home decor or whatever so he might suck at his job lol
but wait what did he say o.0

idk i’m too afraid to open the messages
park jisung are you SURE ?????

yes i wouldn’t forget those teeth !!!!!!

that probably means i shouldn’t respond, right? conflict of interest or something?

i mean i’m not a lawyer but you’re not under contract and it’s not like he was your teacher or something. you’ve never met the guy. how is that a conflict of interest?

i don’t know

look at his dms or i’m calling chenle and donghyuck in here and telling them everything

YOU WOULDNT DARE

i would and you know how much they like to act like relationship therapists just because they’ve been dating for all of two months

okay stand down satan.
brb i will report back

The tremor in Renjun’s hand became hyperbole when he opened his DMs to find that what Na Jaemin actually sent to him was simply “hi ^-^” and then a minute later, as if he had contemplated what to say next: “Renjun-ssi, nice to meet you~”.

Renjun sighed, dropped his heavy head to the adjustable standing desk he spent way too much money on. 

can report he’s just some guy

Jisung laughed at the screenshot Renjun sent him, and Renjun couldn’t help but to laugh, too. Honestly, what had he been expecting? For Jaemin to send his own art back to him and accuse him of being a stalker or something? 

The intoxicating thing about worry was the euphoria of realizing you were wrong, and that everything was okay. It was that visceral relief which resulted in Renjun responding more casually and more swiftly than perhaps he normally would have. He was also just some guy, after all, and this particular guy was hot, so he sent back an equally normal greeting before vowing himself to focus on work for the remainder of the afternoon.

| | |

“Is it a red flag if he wants to meet so soon?” Renjun asked Yangyang. The overpriced salad that he’d thought about all morning in anticipation of their weekly lunch date remained mostly untouched in front of him. Yangyang, unbothered, replied around half-chewed noodles and chicken.

“Not necessarily.” Even though Renjun and Yangyang were the same age, it felt like Yangyang had some foreign experience of growing up in the age of online dating which Renjun mostly avoided. While Renjun was at parties with the artsy queer kids in college, Yangyang was fighting for his sex life in their university’s engineering program. So he trusted his friend’s perspective, felt prepared to soak up any guidance Yangyang could provide. “It could kind of go either way. Meet up quickly because hooking up is all he’s interested in or meet up quickly because he knows people can be totally different in person than they are over text and there’s no point in wasting his time.”

Renjun nodded. The latter was his exact experience so far. 

“I mean,” Yangyang sat down his chopsticks sagely. “Is it really a problem if he just wants to fuck you if he looks like…that?”

“I mean,” Renjun parroted, but more quietly, given the few other occupied tables around their favorite restaurant. “I’m not above fucking on the first date, no, if we were both feeling it. And as long as he isn’t a creep.”

“So what’s the worst that can happen? You’re not into him and you leave? The horror!”

“Shut up,” Renjun whined. He was having this conversation with Yangyang instead of one of their other friends with the vast knowledge that he’d earn the least amount of teasing. If even Yangyang was calling him irrational, he probably was in fact overthinking it. 

Yangyang was eating again. Renjun pushed a chunk of lettuce around on his plate, still deep in thought.

“For what it’s worth. I don’t get creep vibes based on what we’ve talked about so far.” 

“Neither do I,” Yangyang confirmed, and Renjun breathed out slowly. That was a relief. 

Over the course of a week, Jaemin sent him five different pictures of his cats, two pictures of what he was eating for dinner, and a set of innocuous questions about Renjun’s interest in video games. Of which Renjun had very little. He wasn’t sure if admitting such was the right or wrong answer, but Jaemin sent him the fifth cat picture after he admitted he’d rather spend his free time hiking, so he figured he hadn’t completely lost the guy’s attention.

But he equally came away from their conversations with very little insight into what Jaemin’s interests might be. 

“Getting drinks with him is probably going to put me out of my misery,” Renjun concluded. 

Yangyang punched his fist into the air. “That’s the spirit! Your beautiful, big, creative brain is your strong suit, Renjun, but it’s also, like, your worst enemy. Instead of making up a bunch of shit, just go find out for yourself. Maybe that’s what Jaemin’s doing anyway, and you’ll be meeting him where he is. If he gets you out of your head, I’m a fan of him already.”

“Okay, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Renjun warned. “He could be a murderer.”

Little bits of onion flew across the table when Yangyang shoved his face into his hands too quickly. “That might be a new record for how quickly you went back to catastrophizing. Alright, here’s what we’re going to do.” 

Now Yangyang’s hands were on Renjun’s face, cupping his cheeks. His fingers were greasy, but Renjun held back his disgust, too enraptured in what wisdom Yangyang could impart on him.

“I’m going to come to that bar he wants to meet up at like forty-five minutes into your date—“

“Yangyang, no, that’s so embarrassing!”

“—and I’ll pretend to bump into you, and if you introduce me to Jaemin, your date, I’ll say hello and then go back home. If you ask me what I’m doing tonight and offer for me to join y’all, I’ll sit down and run interference to get you out of there.” 

Renjun paused, his protestations swallowed back down. “Wait, that’s kind of smart.”

Yangyang smiled smugly. Why did all of his friends have at least triple the number of teeth he had, Renjun wondered unhelpfully. “I know. I’m a genius.”

“Maybe I should ask Donghyuck instead…”

“Don’t you dare! I was made for this.” Yangyang pushed out his chest, raised his shoulders closer to his ears. “I’ll protect you, Huang Renjun.” 

Huang Renjun wasn’t sure if he felt truly comforted or doomed, but he confirmed with Jaemin before he paid for their lunch, as thanks to Yangyang for listening to all of his worries, that he could meet up this Saturday at 8pm. 

Jaemin replied with a (✿＾◡＾)۶🍸🌟🍺٩(˘◡˘ ), and Renjun spent every night until Saturday wondering which of them was meant to be the one with the flower in his hair.

| | |

The thing about going entire years between going on dates is that it’s possible to forget what potential-romantic-interest-appropriate-attire is. Renjun wasn’t one to default to sweats just because he didn’t work a regular office job, either. If he was leaving his apartment, it was very likely for Renjun to plan an outfit that he felt good in. Something fitted. Relatively expensive. Something neat. That unrelenting habit was probably a result of growing up in the country, with little more than a couple of pennies to rub together. His parents were never going to let him leave the house reflecting that, so they dressed him in smart slacks and ties, even when he was in primary school. It was a pride thing, he’d picked up later in life.

So it wasn’t as if Renjun didn’t have dressy clothes. Of course he did. But when his everyday attire was already sleek, what did it mean to dress for a date? Was dressing down actually more appropriate? Casual, not too needy. Just-some-guy coded?

And he was determined to figure this out on his own. He’d talked every single one of his friend’s ears off since this whole stupid app thing started, and he knew they were all sick of it. It’d be different if he was bringing them sordid tales of hot hookups and terrible pickup lines, but he was in fact just bringing them a spiral of doubt over how he could tell Jaemin that he’d once worked for his company. Apparently, no one thought that was as big of a deal as he did. They were the insane ones, Renjun thought. 

Thus, while Renjun knew for a fact that Donghyuck would be the one to tell him what to wear, since he was a literal stylist for a living (one of those artsy queer guys Renjun met at a college party. A flirtatious fashion major who showed up looking like sex on legs), he refused to face time him. Donghyuck was probably still working anyway, because it was an entire four hours before he had to be at the bar, and Renjun was sat on his bed, staring at his closet, lost.

Impulsively, Renjun grabbed his phone.

what are you wearing???

Jaemin wasn’t a friend. This was a perfectly fine loophole for the self-imposed rules Renjun decided to abide by.

you know, i didn’t strike you as a sexter-before-the-first-date kind of guy

“Oh fuck,” Renjun groaned into the silence of his apartment. 

NO YOU ARE RIGHT
I MEANT TONIGHT
😰
i don’t know what to wear to the bar…

ㅋㅋㅋ i figured that’s what you meant
don’t worry
cutie
ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ why is this so funny
i’m so excited to meet you for real

For all the things Renjun was known to doubt, Jaemin’s sincerity for some reason was not among them. He smiled, unconsciously, down at his phone, fingers hovering above the keyboard, wanting to be as fun and funny as Jaemin seemed to be.

me too, but i’ll forever live in your phone if i can’t decide on an outfit 😔

wear something you’re comfortable in
i don’t want you to feel like i have some expectation of what you’ll look like or something
just excited to be able to talk in person
you could wear a sack and i’d be disappointed i didn’t think of that first

Renjun was typing a reply, but another message from Jaemin came in before he could hit send:

seriously, don’t stress. put on what you’d wear if you were hanging out with your friends tonight. i want to be your friend regardless of anything else anyway

That was surprisingly comforting, Renjun realized, when he unclenched his legs from some stress-induced pretzel position he’d gotten himself into. 

i can do that
and if you judge me for my outfit then you’re really judging my friends who set the bar for our entire group. it’ll be all their fault instead.

exactly
though i seriously won’t judge, i promise
but exactly

After sending Jaemin what Renjun hoped was an appropriate number of emojis to convey his appreciation, Renjun tried using his imagination for good instead of evil: if he was going out with the guys at a bar tonight, with the knowledge that there could be someone hot at the bar he might want to flirt with, he’d probably wear a pair of jeans that hugged his ass and a weighty sweater which laid right below his belt line. Donghyuck scolded him early in their friendship about wearing oversized clothes which made him appear even shorter than he was. Renjun didn’t really care that much about his height, so Donghyuck probably manifested a complex, but when someone who looked as good as Donghyuck did all the time tells you something about your fashion choices, you tend to listen. 

Jisung gifted him the sweater he pulled over a crisp white undershirt and layered with three staggered necklaces. Its tan color made his skin tone look nice, Renjun thought, though he wouldn’t voice that to anyone who could accuse him of being cringey and vain. Once he’d parted his hair just so and put on his favorite cologne, Renjun called Yangyang to ensure they were in agreement about when he’d arrive at the bar and exactly what the cues would be for Renjun to need rescuing. 

The whole thing was still pretty embarrassing, but inexplicably, Renjun did feel less anxious knowing that there was an escape plan. None of their other friends were let in on the scheme, mostly because Renjun didn’t trust them not to overreact, but Renjun did text Jisung once he got off the phone to suggest he talk to his therapist about potential escape plans if he were to try going on a date. Jisung thanked him, and Renjun thanked him in return, for trusting him to understand Jisung’s heart, and for understanding Renjun, too. The insecurity of a stranger potentially not getting him—his sense of humor, his sarcasm, how he shows he cares or is upset—rendered Renjun grateful to the friends in his life who need not any explanation, not at this point, at least.

have fun tonight , Jisung replied. don’t worry too much, okay?

i’ll try

And he did try, for the entire duration of the ride to the bar, to calm his racing heart. Before opening the door to find the table that Jaemin already texted him to say that he’d found, Renjun took a deep breath. He wiped his hands on his jeans, self conscious that Jaemin would be able to feel the uncertainty through his palms, and turned his phone on silent. Without any additional excuses to stay lingering on the street in the cool breeze of the night, Renjun headed inside. 

Between college and the following years where everyone in his life tried adjusting to the horrors of full time jobs, Renjun was no stranger to run down bars and cheap beer. This place wasn’t that. But it also wasn’t as if Renjun felt himself to be underdressed. There was an eclectic collection of pictures, frames, and license plates along the walls, and the bathrooms which Renjun passed on his way to a collection of tables had no gender label on them. The door read “whoever the fuck you are, go pee.” 

When Renjun found where Jaemin was sitting, he was smiling. Relieved. 

“Hi!” Jaemin greeted as he stood and pulled Renjun into a friendly hug.

They exchanged quick pleasantries before heading together to the bartender. Jaemin insisted on paying, and Renjun only agreed if he could pick up the tab next time. The suggestive eyebrow tilt that Jaemin sent him made Renjun more nervous than anything they’d ever exchanged over text message. 

Na Jaemin in person was a lot. His smile was beautiful, yes, but it was maybe his voice which Renjun was most immediately struck by. Deep but naturally playful. If he’d seen Jaemin in the wild, there’s no way Renjun would have assumed he was almost thirty. Vibrant was maybe the best word to describe the effect.

“I’ve never been here before,” Renjun confessed once they were settled back at the table with their drinks. “It’s cool in here.” 

“I’m happy you like it.” Jaemin clinked their glasses together. “And that you drink. I’m more of a ‘let’s get a drink’ kind of guy than a ‘let’s meet for coffee’ kind of guy, even though I like coffee and hate the taste of alcohol.” 

Renjun noticed that Jaemin ordered some kind of pink cocktail, while Renjun ordered a beer. “Is it the vibe?” he wondered vaguely, unable to really explain what he meant, but Jaemin seemed to catch on.

“It must be. I’d rather be surrounded by people who are letting loose than people with headphones on, in Zoom meetings, trying to get work done. I have to do enough of that with my job, so when I just want to relax with good company, I prefer a change of pace.” 

The mention of Jaemin’s job turns Renjun’s stomach. It makes sense for him to ask what Jaemin does for a living, but he doesn’t want to lie and pretend that he doesn’t already know. So Renjun takes a stalling gulp of his beer and fesses up.

“I’m not surprised you’re so thoughtful about design. Don’t Skip A Meal’s products really do create an inviting atmosphere when so much home decor especially these days is beige and boring.”

There was that eyebrow tilt again, but this time in surprise.

“Did you Google me, Huang Renjun?”

Renjun laughed in a way that he hoped sounded casual. “No, but that would have been the smart thing to do. I’m surprised you didn’t Google me now that you mention it.”

He took another sip of his beer, trying to slow down the word vomit of his explanation.

“I actually worked with your brand last year as a featured artist, but I didn’t know that you were involved with the company until we matched last week. My friend Jisung saw your picture and told me.”

“Ah, so I’m not so famous and magnetic to have just anyone automatically know who I am and want to date me?” Jaemin dramatically tossed his head back in despair, and Renjun laughed once more, unable to stop himself from delighting in the way Jaemin bent the mood to his desire.

“You’re not weirded out?” He asked, just to be sure.

“Why would I be? If anything, I’m embarrassed that I didn’t recognize your name.”

Renjun waved his hands in genuine dramatics. “No, no, I didn’t expect that at all. And I didn’t recognize yours either, so I think we’re even.”

“I don’t want us to talk about work too much, so I’m going to avoid pulling out the company socials and looking for your posts, but please know that’s what I’ll do the second I get home tonight.”

Jaemin didn’t even know what Renjun’s art was like, had no way of knowing if he’d be impressed, but Renjun bloomed beneath the implied praise nonetheless.

“If you don’t want us to talk about work, what do you want us to talk about?” Renjun inquired, hoping to sound flirtatious, maybe. Jaemin’s easygoing smile faltered, and so too did Renjun’s confidence. 

“There’s something I’m worried you’ll be weirded out by, too,” Jaemin replied. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Jaemin brought his hands from around his cocktail to his lap. He leaned back from their table, steeling himself. “I’m actually in a committed relationship.”

Unable to be so schooled in his own reaction, Renjun narrowed his eyes across the table. The most immediate emotion he identified was anger: “Why am I here, then? What did you think I’d say when you told me you’re cheating on your boyfriend?”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jaemin pleaded. “That’s not—that’s not what I’m saying. Why am I always so bad at explaining this? Hear me out—.”

"What, are you saying you’re still committed to your tragically late lover and anyone who enters your life will inevitably need to compete with someone they’ve never and can never meet?"

Jaemin’s eyes got impossibly huge upon hearing Renjun’s incessantly overactive imagination in the flesh. “Why the hell is that the first thing that came into your head?”

“What else am I supposed to think, Jaemin?! Why wouldn’t you tell me about this before I came all the way here?” Darting his eyes around the bar to check if he was part of some elaborate prank, Renjun asked: “Are you insane?” 

“People always have a lot of questions, so I wanted to make sure we could talk about it face-to-face.”

Renjun winced. “Yeah, I bet. I have a million and one questions, the first of which is how many plural-people you’ve had to have this conversation with.”

“It’s not like I’ve kept count—“ Renjun must have looked murderous, because Jaemin hurried to get the rest of his explanation out. “But listen, my boyfriend and I are poly, and we both date other people even though we live together and have never broken up regardless of how many other partners either one of us has had.”

No thoughts of validity or morality entered Renjun’s head. He did, however, feel deceived. He took a breath but squared his shoulders. “Okay, well, did the app we’re on not ask you about that to make your profile? Couldn’t you have added that to your bio manually? Like, there’s no way waiting until right now to tell me that makes the most sense to you or your boyfriend, right?” 

“Ha.” Jaemin rolled his eyes. Such disdain didn’t suit his pretty face. “There are so many weirdos on the internet, Renjun. We were of course super upfront at first, but Mark and I couldn’t sift through the threesome offers to figure out who might actually be interested in dating one of us. More than a handful of guys even pretended for months to be into me, only to dump me when they realized they had no chance at sleeping with both of us. I’ve had way more success by telling someone I like that I’m poly, and then seeing where that goes.” 

That gave Renjun some pause. “So it’s not just a physical thing for you? Or for your boyfriend?” 

“See, I told you people have a lot of questions,” Jaemin declared, eager to clarify anything Renjun wanted to know. “No, Mark’s bi and usually dates girls. I have no interest in sleeping with them, obviously, and we’ve never dated the same guy at the same time either. That’s not really our thing. We like having a separate relationship from whoever else we’re seeing.”

“And do you date more than two people at a time?” 

“I’m not against it fundamentally,” Jaemin replied, shrugging, “but I don’t think I’d be able to maintain more than two relationships at a time. Mark’s the same.”

Renjun went quiet then, processing. Jaemin patiently waited. 

“Remember when you said you didn’t want us to just talk about work?” he finally asked, and when Jaemin nodded, Renjun continued: “I don’t want to just talk about this either. I feel like I’m interrogating you, and I didn’t expect for that to be how this would go. I know that being poly isn’t the only thing to learn about you, and I’d imagine you don’t just want to know about my past relationships or sexuality, so, if it’s okay with you, I propose we get back to normal first date shit. I care more about how you got your cats and your hobbies than any of the rest of this.”

“You mean that?” Jaemin sounded doubtful. “You can ask as many questions as you want, if it helps you to feel more comfortable.”

“I just told you what would make me most comfortable. I’m serious.”

“Okay…well, if you don’t want us to talk about being poly, what do you want to talk about?” 

Despite everything that made Renjun unsure about if or how anything with Jaemin would proceed, Jaemin allowing him the control of their conversation felt sweet, and caring. In the back of Renjun’s mind, he imagined that someone who needed more than one partner to feel fulfilled could be egotistical and self-centered. Jaemin didn’t strike him that way at all, and as Renjun listened to Jaemin talk about his close relationships to his family, his pets, and his friends, the more confident Renjun felt to relax and have fun tonight. 

He laughed at Jaemin’s vivid descriptions of raising three kittens at once, was in the middle of explaining that he grew up without any siblings but many female cousins, when Renjun felt a tap on his shoulder. 

“Hey, Renjun, how are you?”

Of course. Yangyang. With the anticipation of telling Jaemin about the featured artist thing and then the totally unexpected poly reveal, Renjun forgot all about his escape plan.

This was his choice: end it right here and leave with Yangyang, block Jaemin on the app, move on to someone who was hopefully monogamous. Forget this night ever happened. 

“Hey, Yangyang,” Renjun said in his best attempt at sounding natural. “Jaemin, this is one of my best friends from college. Yangyang, this is Na Jaemin, my date.”

Jaemin beamed, and so did Yangyang. And Renjun sat there amongst all the teeth, itching for his friend to disappear.

| | | 

By the night’s end, Renjun had no fewer than five text messages demanding to know how it went. Renjun responded similarly to his friends and his mom: Jaemin was charming and beautiful, and they’d all probably like him as much as Renjun did. He didn’t offer up anything else. Really, it was Jaemin’s business anyway, and clearly people knowing he was poly had led to poor experiences in the past. Renjun didn’t want to be the cause of that, directly or indirectly. He was also terrified of their judgment of him , too. 

When Renjun’s Uber pulled up, Jaemin hugged him once more, kissed him sweetly on the cheek, and asked that Renjun text him when he got home. There was no pressure nor a definite way forward. Jaemin was probably going to let Renjun decide their next step, if he had to guess. 

And that in itself made him want to keep talking to Jaemin. 

back in my cat-less apartment, safe and sound

i want you to meet the babies, if you ever end up wanting to come over

just based off what you’ve told me, i’d love to draw them, tbh

wait omg i almost forgot to look up your feature PAUSE I AM BUSY FOR THE NEXT HOUR TO TWO HOURS

ITS NOT THAT SERIOUS

its your job firstly and secondly you used your amazing talent to bring my products to life of course it’s that serious 😭

😳😳😳

Renjun distracted himself by washing up and changing into soft pajamas. Jisung reminded him to drink some water, and even though Renjun didn’t even down enough beer to really warrant the Uber, he dutifully sent along pictures of his full and then empty cup.

By the time he’d lit three different candles around his bedroom and settled under the blankets, his phone pinged, not with a text or a picture, but with a voice note. 

“I don’t know why I didn’t expect for someone as cute and bright as you to create something that feels so lovely, but I’m genuinely taken aback by how well you executed what basically amounted to advertising.”

Jaemin’s voice was much rougher at this time of night. Renjun could hear what felt like a smile around each syllable. He didn’t have the opportunity to quiet the butterflies in his belly to respond before a second notification came through.

“I know you’d probably be batting my hand away if we were laying beside each other right now…wait is it lame that im already in bed…actually nevermind you better be getting ready to sleep Huang Renjun, it’s late.”

It felt like Jaemin was getting to a point there, but he must have lost the plot. In the time it took for a third note to come through, the image of Jaemin laying next to a faceless guy named Mark settled over Renjun. Sharing a bed, a home, a life with someone else, all while Renjun was here alone. The contrast felt like knives against his rib cage. Wasn’t the purpose of a relationship to fill each other’s cup? 

“What I meant to say is that I know you’d hate for me to have done it but I did look at your website and maybe I did buy one of every item because they were all so cute okay bye.”

Sure enough, upon inspection of his Shopify dashboard, Renjun confirmed that an order of over thirty items from the same customer came in tonight. 

i have to package those myself, you know

save the paper. bring them to me on our next date?

smooth

im not hearing any protests 👂

no, you are not

| | | 

In a stroke of genius, Renjun suggested that the next time they meet up, Mark should be there, too. 

See, ever since Jaemin sent the voice note from bed, this Mark person remained a haunting ghost to all of their other conversations. If Jaemin asked Renjun how his work day was going, Renjun wondered if he texted Mark that first. When Renjun face timed Jaemin so he could better understand the advice Jaemin had for getting the cookies he wanted to make for Chenle absolutely perfect, he spent the entire call looking behind Jaemin’s head. Embarrassingly, Renjun felt preoccupied by wondering if Mark looked like him. Or not like him at all. If Jaemin had a type. Or if Renjun could give him something he couldn’t get with Mark. 

Donghyuck and Chenle would have had great advice for this whole situation, probably. Chenle was so pragmatic, and Donghyuck was most likely to have had a friend of an ex-boyfriend’s friend who was in a poly relationship with his college professor or something ludicrous. And meeting Mark felt like the solution to finally breaking through the mental block he had for sharing this situation with his friends. They’d have all the same questions about Mark as he had. It’d be so much easier to get their perspectives if Renjun was armed with the full picture.

He wanted Mark in frame.

And Jaemin wanted Mark’s girlfriend to be there, too. 

He explained that they could all go out for karaoke with some of their close friends. A group hangout felt fast under typical conditions. In this case, Renjun was going to be meeting his situationship’s friends, boyfriend, and boyfriend’s girlfriend, all at once. All while being unable to prepare or debrief with his own friends. The torture was self-inflicted; Renjun felt the pain all the same.

our closest friends would be there. just a couple of people who know us and our lifestyles. jeno and jungwoo already told me they wanted to meet you. and xiaoting, mark’s partner, is at our house all the time. it might be a great opportunity to pick her brain. it’s the first time she’s dated someone who is poly, too.

Renjun scrolled up several pages of their text messages to confirm that Jaemin had never once sent a text that long all at once. He clearly wanted Renjun to feel welcomed. 

this will technically be our second date, so i get to pay

>:|
fine but i get to pick you up and drive you there

fine but i get to have a few drinks to calm my nerves around all these new people

of course, cutie
and we can bail at any time

An escape route. Renjun’s new best friend. 

| | |

Renjun was not immune, he discovered, to a hot guy waiting outside of his apartment while looking like five cheesy romcom tropes combined. Jaemin picked him up in a casually devastating outfit—blue jeans and an open button down over a solid white shirt. The swooping feeling in his gut as Jaemin looked up from his phone and beamed at the sight of Renjun joining him across the parking lot was humiliating. 

Jaemin’s sedan smelled like blueberries. He sang along cutely to the pop music playing on the radio. If Renjun wasn’t heading to his impending doom, he would have wanted to slow this part down to half speed. As it was, he wanted to put himself out of this misery by fast forwarding to the part where he finally knew what Mark was like. 

Jeno and Jungwoo didn’t really worry him too much. Jaemin described Jeno as introverted and sweet to a fault. That sounded so much like Jisung that Renjun felt drawn to him, even if only hypothetically. Jungwoo seemed like a mood maker, not unlike Donghyuck or Chenle, so Renjun figured he could handle that. Besides the horrors Renjun conjured up on his own, Mark remained a mystery. It would have been stranger if Jaemin had talked constantly about his boyfriend around the guy he was dating, but the unknown turned out to be the worst part.

Who he met first was the one person he’d given no thought to at all.

“Xiaoting, you look stunning tonight,” Jaemin complimented when the only other person in their noraebang room was tall, with pretty light pink hair. Xiaoting wore a knit dress which showcased her killer legs, and the big, round eyes which landed on Jaemin and Renjun were unfairly expressive. 

Xiaoting scoffed playfully and shoved at Jaemin’s shoulder. 

“You must be Renjun?” 

Renjun forgot to return Xiaoting’s polite bow because it had not occurred to him until this moment that Xiaoting was not a Korean name. He’d been too distracted by the English name, Mark, but Xiaoting’s Korean was tinted with a similar accent to his own.

”You’re Chinese, too?” he asked in Mandarin. 

”Yes, yes! Jaemin mentioned that he was seeing a Chinese artist, so I’ve been excited to meet you,” Xiaoting replied. “Thank goodness I can speak comfortably with you around.”

Renjun blushed. Was Jaemin “seeing” him? Was he a “Chinese artist”? Did Jaemin talk about him often? He wasn’t forced to formulate a dignified response. Someone was entering their room from behind where Renjun stood. 

“Jaemin, they’re going to leave us out now.”

An arm snuck around Xiaoting’s waist. A beer was passed into her hands. 

“Renjun, this is Mark,” Jaemin was saying through the static of Renjun’s mind.

Mark waved a tiny wave, and then bowed, and then stuck his hand out to shake Renjun’s. Returning three introductions rolled into one didn’t come naturally to Renjun. He felt clumsy, knew his hands were clammy. Nonplussed, Mark smiled at him with kind eyes. 

"Hey, man, it’s so good to finally meet you.”

Renjun’s insecurities had painted an image of Mark that looked vaguely like himself, but better. He’d be shorter but jacked. Pretty with a smaller nose. More stylish. Eloquent. On the contrary, the guy who stood before him sipping from his beer was all angles. He had high cheekbones, a pointed chin and nose. Almost Jaemin’s height, he wore a hat backwards. His jeans were baggy. 

“Thanks for having me,” Renjun managed, as a hand hugging his waist squeezed gently. Jaemin was snug against him and beaming. He looked proud. Tonight being a nightmare for Renjun mattered a little less if Jaemin wanted him to be amongst his favorite people. Meeting his loved ones so soon should be a compliment, so Renjun tried to put on a brave face. He knew how to have fun. He could survive this. 

Jeno and Jungwoo’s arrival helped. Jungwoo was energetic and flirtatious with them all. It was impossible to not loosen up when you had a guy that pretty singing a sexy pop song while shaking his ass in your face. Jeno was super nice, albeit quiet. When Renjun overheard Jeno talking to Mark about some e-sports tournament while Xiaoting was picking the next song, he turned to Jaemin, who hadn’t yet left his side for even a moment. 

“I’ve been thinking about something,” he started.

“Dangerous,” Jaemin quipped, and Renjun rolled his eyes. 

“Why did you ask me when we first started talking if I played video games?”

Xiaoting’s song started, causing Jaemin to lean in and whisper his answer close to Renjun’s ear: “I get the immediate ick from gamer dude bros. Jeno is maybe the only person I know who spends literally all his free time playing games and somehow isn’t a total asshole.”

As Renjun turned to whisper his reply, he watched Jaemin’s mouth, shiny with lip gloss, turn in concert. “So you’ve been dodging threesome chasers and bigoted gamers? Braver than the US Marines.”

“I know.” Jaemin laughed into Renjun’s ear, causing Renjun to use all his energy to focus on what Jaemin was continuing to say, rather than getting distracted by the goosebumps blooming across his arms and back. “Maybe I had to endure all the gross ones to finally find you.”

Hiding his face behind his beer bottle, Renjun pressed the cool glass to his flushed cheeks. Jaemin wasn’t having any of that. He pulled the bottle away from Renjun’s face and moved his hand to Renjun’s cheek instead. 

Jaemin looked at him head-on now. Renjun watched his lips to make sure he wasn’t going to miss a word of what Jaemin wanted to say in the chaos of this room. “If I haven’t made it abundantly clear yet, I really fucking like you.”

The love song Xiaoting belted out hit a crescendo exactly as Jaemin leaned in. Jaemin kissing him felt so much like a dream. Not a night terror as he expected, but also not his reality. In the in-between of this dreamscape, Jungwoo was whistling, and when Renjun pulled back from the softest lips he’d ever kissed, he saw Mark leaning over to smile at them both.

| | |

“Night cap at our place?” Mark suggested when their final hour was up. “Free booze. Jaemin made some ridiculously good bread yesterday, too.”

Jungwoo had an early gym date and Jeno’s introvert timer was up, which left the two couples. 

“I told Youngeun I’d be home by midnight,” Xiaoting revealed, to Jaemin’s hyperbolic pout. She promised to join them next time, and Renjun sincerely hoped that she did. She’d been nothing but sweet the entire night. He could imagine them being friends outside of the context of Renjun dating her boyfriend’s boyfriend. 

Once he realized Mark was kissing Xiaoting goodbye, Renjun spun on his heel. Jaemin sensed his discomfort quickly. 

“I can take you home,” he offered, but Renjun was shaking his head. 

“No, I’m okay to hang out a bit longer,” Renjun assured. Despite the knee-jerk reaction to Mark’s PDA in front of Jaemin, as if they hadn’t kissed hours earlier right in front of Mark, he was feeling incredibly light. The burden of the unknown was now lifted. “If that’s okay?”

Jaemin pulled Renjun into a hug unexpectedly. The fluff of his jacket muffled Jaemin’s happy noises. Renjun would be an idiot to leave him now. 

So he didn’t. 

| | |

I’m never bringing him to my apartment , Renjun vowed when they pulled up to Mark and Jaemin’s house. It was huge, for his standards at least. Two floors, an open layout across the kitchen and living room. A beautiful garden in the back. Renjun had to remind himself, for the millionth time, that these weren’t two bachelors who roomed together out of convenience. Mark and Jaemin had a life together. And for some reason he was now a part of it. 

Mark poured him a glass of expensive wine and Jaemin put on reruns of a drama Renjun remembered his grandma watching when he was a kid. After petting each of Jaemin’s cats approximately a million times, he settled into the cushions of a large sectional couch which took up most of the space in their modern living room. When Jaemin joined him, he gently pulled Renjun’s legs into his lap. While they’d spent the majority of every day since their first date texting and face timing, the contrast in how business-like their meeting at the bar had been with how affectionate Jaemin turned out to be felt a bit dizzying. 

“What do you do for work?” Renjun asked Mark as he handed Jaemin his own glass of wine.

“Oh, I was going to head up,” Mark replied, and Renjun tilted his head, confused. 

“You up for hanging out longer, or do you just want to relax,” Jaemin asked, squeezing Renjun’s knee.

“Are those mutually exclusive? I thought we’d relax by hanging out? Mark, sit down.”

The eye contact which passed between the couple communicated an entire conversation which Renjun didn’t understand. 

“Okay…” Mark seemed to decide. He sat down in a recliner across from where Renjun sipped from his wine. “I record guides for an entertainment company.”

“That’s not totally accurate,” Jaemin offered. “He’s kind of an ace. Helps with the song writing, and then when he records the guide, he helps the team to decide what the song should really sound like. He’s involved in the whole process.”

“Whoa, that’s really cool.”

Mark grinned, but shook his head a bit, humble. “There are far worse jobs in the industry, so I feel lucky”

“So you’re both creatives,” Renjun realized. During one of their before-bed face times earlier in the week, Jaemin had shared how he ended up with his brand at such a relatively young age. It started as a project in college. In a marketing class, Jaemin had to create a character that could be branded for multiple products. He came up with a personal cheerleader, of sorts, who reminded the consumer to get plenty of sleep, never skip a meal, and relax. With some support from his professor, his design actually became the official mascot of the university’s counseling office. Fast forward five years, and he was able to sell a line of recognizable products throughout Seoul, with plenty of room to grow. 

“And so are you,” Jaemin replied.

“Jaemin told me that you worked with his line last year. He showed me every post like five separate times.”

“Ah, that’s embarrassing.” Renjun said. “I was actually really nervous for Jaemin to know that. I thought he’d assume I was a stalker or something.”

“Oh, are you not?” Jaemin joked.

“Shut up.”

“It’s a bit fated, isn’t it?” Mark mused. “What are the odds you’d get the Artist Feature, not know who the owner of the brand is, and then match with him a year later. That’s so random.”

“And you’re both dating Chinese people living in Korea,” Renjun added. “Am I being typecast here? Wait,” he turned to Jaemin, “do you only date foreigners? Mark’s Canadian.”

“You think I have that much of a type? Artistic, non-Korean, male-identifying?”

“That’s only three things,” Mark noticed, which made Jaemin laugh. 

“Okay, what’s your type, then? Name three things.”

Renjun thought about that for a moment. “I haven’t dated that many people, honestly. I don’t know that there’s similarities between them. Kind, funny, active?”

“Active how?” Jaemin wondered.

“I like to do stuff,” Renjun explained. “My work life is solitary, so when I want to have fun, I usually go out. If I dated someone who was a home-body even more than I am, I think that’d be hard. Mark, what about you?”

“Hmmm.” Mark contemplated while adjusting himself in the recliner so Lucy could curl up on the foot rest. “I can fall for someone really easily, I’ve been attracted to all kinds of people, so my type is probably like ‘is cool’”

“Is that why you…” Renjun trailed off, having no idea how to phrase this.

“—are poly?” Mark finished.

“Yeah, I mean, I didn’t know if, if it was like you’re easily attracted to all kinds of people so monogamy doesn’t work for you, or something. If you don’t want to talk about this though, I totally understand—“

“No, no,” Jaemin answered. “I’m happy you’re more comfortable to talk about it now.” That bar date came back into view once more. Perhaps his initial avoidance was just as much a red flag to them as being overly curious. “Mark’s actually pretty religious and comes from a very traditional family.”

“Yeah, and I always assumed I’d grow up, get a job, get married, have a bunch of kids. The usual.”

“What changed for you, then?”

“I don’t know that I’m very good at explaining it, but, I just….feel a lot? I rarely have casual friendships, it’s always been intense and all-consuming. You know that thing that usually happens when you’re young and in school, like you start dating and then suddenly you don’t hang out with your friend group anymore, and you’re just totally wrapped up in your girlfriend?”

Renjun nodded. He was more likely to be the friend who got ghosted than the one to have the all-consuming romance, but he understood the situation all the same.

“That never applied to me. But it wasn’t like I was great at balancing things, either, I just wanted it all, everything from everyone, and I wanted to be everything to everyone, too. This is making me seem really selfish, isn’t it?”

“Please, you’re like the least selfish person I know,” Jaemin said, and Renjun didn’t doubt it. “You just…thrive on emotional connection.”

“I know Jaemin told me he doesn’t date more than two people at a time. Do you, Mark, if intense relationships come so easy for you?”

“The closest I’ve come is to try to date casually, without commitment. In college, especially, I wanted to do well academically, and my family expected me to, so I avoided getting into anything serious. I was going on dates with a bunch of people I felt really connected to.”

“Fucking them, too, I’m sure,” Jaemin added. 

The almost-empty glass of wine was hitting Renjun. He laughed a bit too loud, covered his mouth with his hand before asking: “Weren’t you there? Did you not meet in school?”

“No, we went to different universities. A year or two after I graduated, Jaemin commissioned a writer I work with for a jingle. We met through work.”

“Ahhh, I gotcha.” 

“You’re so cute,” Jaemin said, out of nowhere. He leaned up to kiss Renjun, and Renjun kissed back. When he opened his eyes again, a second cat was sitting with Mark. 

“When did it move from a bunch of casual flings to multiple relationships,” Renjun got back to asking. Now that he had a taste of the context, he wanted to know everything. 

“With Jaemin, actually. He made it basically impossible to keep it casual.”

“Hey, what does that mean—“

“—it’s not a bad thing!”

“I think I know what you mean,” Renjun added. Jaemin whipped his head from Mark to Renjun. 

“Now what does that mean?”

“It’s also not a bad thing!“

“You’re just…you’re you, Na Jaemin. Accept that it’s super easy to fall in love with you.”

“You know, it means a little less coming from someone who falls in love with every other person he meets.”

“Don’t make me sound like a freak!” Mark protested. “Renjun, it’s not like that, I promise. To answer your original question, when I met Jaemin, I was so drawn to him even though I didn't understand him very well for a long time. I knew that I wanted him in my life, regardless of anything else. We had a talk one night—it was pretty much like this one—where we were talking about our past relationships, and I told him what it’d felt like to have all these emotional attachments all the time. He suggested that I look up polyamory without pushing it any further or asking me anything else about it. It took me what, like two days,” Mark asked Jaemin, who nodded, “for me to come back to him and ask how he knew about it because this was brand new freaking information to me.”

“A bit sheltered, our Markie.”

A cacophony of meowing sounded throughout the living room as Mark shut the recliner and walked over to the couch. Renjun hadn’t noticed before, but he was barefoot, having quickly changed into basketball shorts and a plain black t-shirt when they’d arrived. He looked comfortable, at home. “Let me refill your wine glasses while Jaemin tells you why he knew so much.”

Renjun smiled gratefully at their makeshift bartender. He rested his cheek against the cushion of the couch to hear Jaemin’s side of the story. It was late, and another glass of wine was likely to push him close to sleep, but he wanted to know more. To know it all.

“It’s not that scandalous,” Jaemin explained. “I had a friend in college who started dating a married couple. A lot of our other friends were pretty judgmental about the whole thing, but I don’t know. Even then, I thought that people can live whatever lives they want to live. I’m not religious at all, so the idea of family tradition doesn’t mean anything to me. If everyone’s happy, of age, consensually participating, who cares?” 

“Took me a bit longer to let go of the guilt over the nuclear family, wife-and-kids thing,” Mark admitted as he passed back the full wine glasses. A line of cats, like ducklings following their mother, circled around his feet and dutifully jumped up onto the recliner, a seat which must never belong solely to just Mark. “My parents don’t know that I’m dating a guy, and they doubly don’t know I’m dating more than one person.”

“Whoa,” Renjun let out, without thinking better of it. Being closeted wasn’t a new concept to him, of course, but he was sitting in Mark and Jaemin’s house, where they’ve made a loving home. A parent who wouldn’t be proud of their son being successful, in love, and happy just shouldn’t have had kids, he felt strongly. Not that he said any of that. 

“Anyway,” Jaemin redirected. “I find out my friend is dating a married couple and then I get drunk and make out with him, because I like the idea that I can, even though he’s in a relationship. It was…attractive to me in a forbidden-fruit kind of way.”

“Wait, this is kind of scandalous, actually.”

“That’s what I’m saying.” Mark wiggled his eyebrows, and Renjun laughed. “It gets better.”

Renjun mimed eating popcorn. Then, Jaemin mimed taking some out of his pretend-bowl and throwing it at both Renjun and Mark.

“I might have impulsively asked if the married couple were interested in a fourth.”

Renjun sucked in a breath. Scandalous indeed. “Didn’t you say that’s exactly what you didn’t like for people to do to you?!”

“I didn’t know any better at the time!”

“He was horny and confused,” Mark noted sagely. “Now he’s horny and confident. I’m not sure which is more dangerous.”

“Shut up.” Jaemin sounded sincerely embarrassed. “In the end, only the wife was into me. At one point I thought, ‘if I didn’t know I could be into this, maybe I’m into girls and I didn’t know it,’ but that was obviously not the case. My friend did take me to our university’s poly club, though, and that helped me to think through my past relationships. I was always the one to break it off, to say I wasn’t able to commit. I don’t think that was ever exactly the problem. I felt strangled, or suffocated, or something. When in more than one relationship I feel so much calmer, more like myself. It’s hard to explain.”

“No, I appreciate you telling me.” Renjun intertwined his fingers with Jaemin’s. “You, too,” he added, looking over at Mark. “You just met me tonight and you’ve already shared so much with me. Thank you both for trusting me. I mean it.”

“We haven’t scared you away?” Jaemin asked. 

That could have been an outcome, if Renjun imagined this exact conversation even just a month ago, with two people who weren’t Mark and Jaemin. But here and now, as he was living it, Renjun felt warm, and not just from the wine.

“Not even kind of,” he readily confirmed. “So much so, I’m going to be that asshole to ask if I can crash here tonight. I don’t trust uber drivers after midnight.”

“That doesn’t make you an asshole,” Mark replied, laughing a little. They were so comfortable hosting, from the fancy wine glasses, to the guest room with a queen sized bed and private bathroom, that Renjun washed up once more thinking about Mark’s parents never getting to experience how lovely of a life he had. Yet Renjun was let in. It felt backwards, and perhaps because of the mixture of beer and wine throughout the night, he opened the door back out to the bedroom feeling unjustly sad. 

The sight of Jaemin sitting on the guest bed brought Renjun back to reality.

“Just wanted to make sure you were good. Can I get you anything else? I put a clean water bottle full of ice water on the nightstand in case you get thirsty throughout the night.”

“Thank you, Jaemin. You’ve been so lovely all night. I can’t ask for anymore.”

Jaemin made grabby hands for Renjun to stand in between his spread legs. “You’re extra sweet when you’re drunk,” he observed. 

“I’m not, I’m telling the truth.” 

“I believe you, I believe you.” He hugged Renjun around the middle, buried the side of his face into Renjun’s stomach. “I’m so happy you got to meet everyone. I felt happy, happy, happy all night. All because of you.”

While carding his hand through Jaemin’s hair, Renjun told him that he hadn’t done anything at all. 

“Nonsense,” Jaemin replied. “Thank you for being you.”

At that, Renjun lifted Jaemin’s chin and leaned down to kiss him, a silent reciprocation. Unlike at karaoke, Renjun could focus on the way Jaemin smelled, how he sounded. One more sip of wine and he would have climbed into Jaemin’s lap, then and there. Even more, Jaemin assured him that the only reason he was going upstairs was because they’d both been drinking. 

So Jaemin theatrically tucked him into bed, ignoring all Renjun’s protests that this much tucking would mean he’d die of heat stroke. 

“Sleep well, Renjun.”

And surprisingly he did, or he could, even while knowing that Mark and Jaemin were resting right above him.

| | |

The house was quiet when Renjun woke up with an undeniable wine headache. He gulped down the ice water Jaemin had left him, brushed his teeth and washed his face, and gingerly left the guest bedroom. He might not have been able to immediately spot that anyone else was up if it weren’t for the cats sitting before a sliding glass door in the kitchen. They appeared to be waiting, impatiently, for Mark to come back inside.

After checking that Jaemin wasn’t in the living room, Renjun fought the persistent cuteness of the cats to squeeze himself through the door and into the cool morning air. Mark sat on one of four patio chairs lining their porch, with a guitar in his lap.

“Good morning,” Renjun greeted groggily. 

“Hey, morning,” Mark replied, running his hands through his bed head. “Jaemin went out to get stuff for breakfast, but he should be back soon. He wanted to make sure you had lemon for your water.”

"Oh, he didn’t have to do that—"

“Jaem likes taking care of people,” Mark explained. “It makes him happy. Just let him be.”

Renjun wasn’t going to argue with Jaemin’s literal life partner, so he redirected with a nod toward Mark’s lap: “What are you working on?” 

Mark set the guitar aside, though Renjun hadn’t asked him to. “Nothing in particular. Playing helps me to chill out on the weekends. Hey, by the way, you were, like, really good last night. Jaemin didn’t tell me you could sing.”

“Ah.” Renjun rubbed at the back of his neck, shy. “I took choir in school, but I don’t seriously practice or anything. Wait—I just realized you didn’t ever go last night, what the hell?”

Mark laughed at Renjun’s offense. “Would you have taken the mic away from Kim Jungwoo?”

“Sing for me,” Renjun insisted. He grabbed the neck of Mark’s discarded guitar and handed it back to its owner. “Please,” he added, belatedly. 

But no immediate song filled the back garden. Mark was looking at him curiously. Renjun didn’t know him well enough to follow what he searched for, but he tried smiling with his eyes, to communicate the same kindness Renjun felt from Mark the previous night upon their first meeting. 

“Okay,” Mark mumbled, mostly to himself. The melody sounding from his guitar felt familiar to Renjun. When Mark began to sing, he could place an English song that Donghyuck frequently listened to on long car rides to Jisung’s parents’ house. 

Hearing it from Mark was different; his voice was deeper, and all the syllables sounded just right, compared to the way he’d heard Donghyuck sing it. He closed his eyes as he reached for a note at the top of his range, and Renjun felt like he could look without feeling embarrassed. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen a person look so relaxed. The lyrics were about falling in love, Renjun was pretty sure of it, and Mark smiled as the tempo got faster.

Renjun closed his own eyes, then, not willing to steal any more glances than he’d already been granted. Without thinking better of it, he began to sing along to the last chorus. His own range was a bit higher, so he tried to harmonize. Though he undoubtedly sounded out of practice, Renjun hung in there until the last note. 

When he opened his eyes, Mark was looking at him once more. 

Renjun didn’t get a chance to thank him properly; Jaemin was sliding open the glass door and kissing him good morning.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you got up,” Jaemin said. “I really wanted to make you something delicious for breakfast, but we were out of eggs.” He swept his fingers through Renjun’s hair lovingly, placed his hand upon Renjun’s cheek. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Yeah, that bed is stupidly comfortable.” There must have been a mattress topper on it or something. Renjun felt like he’d slept on a cloud. He once more felt confident that Jaemin should never set foot in his apartment, with his measly full-sized, second-hand bed. “Do you have, like, a bed rule?” he thought to ask. 

“Kind of,” Jaemin replied, as Mark nodded. Sober in the light of day, they were both still open to answering any and all of his questions. “Only we sleep in our bed at home. If we have anyone else over, we sleep with them in the guest bedroom.”

On second thought, Renjun shouldn’t have asked that at all. Now he was picturing Mark and Xiaoting in the same place where he’d slept. In the flashes of these imagined memories, Mark was shirtless and kissing, kissing, kissing—

“I’m going to get started on breakfast, okay?”

“Can I help?” Renjun asked, blinking himself back to the present.

Jaemin beamed. “Aigoo~ Of course you can, cutie. Come on in, I’ll put my favorite apron on you.”

Renjun squeezed Mark’s knee before getting up. “Thank you for singing for me,” he almost whispered.

“Yeah, you, too.” 

Then Renjun headed inside.

| | |

Breakfast was more delicious than it had any right to be. Cooking was one of Jaemin’s main hobbies, and it showed in the care he took while making what could have otherwise been a simple dish.

Fully satiated, Renjun got up from the table to do the dishes. Jaemin and Mark beat him to it, however. They raced to the sink, turned around in sync, and all but barred Renjun from lifting a finger to help.

“Go get dressed,” Jaemin ordered. “We’ll handle this.”

With impressive foresight which Renjun lacked, Jaemin had thought to put his clothes in the washer before they went to bed. They were warm and soft now, fresh from the dryer. The scent of their laundry detergent was familiar; it reminded Renjun of Jaemin staying so securely beside him all of the previous evening. 

After making the bed and folding the pajamas they so kindly offered him, Renjun padded back out to the kitchen. 

Mark appeared to be washing while Jaemin dried. They stood, shoulder to shoulder, and Mark animatedly told a story that Renjun could gather was about Jungwoo and someone named Jaehyun. The dishes had to wait their turn as Mark’s hands kept leaving the sink to punctuate the funniest parts of his story. 

Renjun wished he had the context to laugh as much as Jaemin did. Or, he wondered, how Mark would describe him if he was telling Jungwoo and Jaehyun about last night. With Mark’s inflection, in his words, would Renjun seem this fun? This alive?

“Thank you a million times over for letting me stay,” Renjun said when Mark’s story appeared complete.

Jaemin turned from the sink, dried his hands and tossed the tea towel onto the counter. “You heading out?”

“Yeah, I probably should.”

Renjun might have pulled Jaemin into the living room, but Jaemin buried his face into Renjun’s neck right there. Over Jaemin’s shoulder, Renjun could see Mark turn towards them and grin. 

“It was really great to meet you,” Renjun said to him sincerely. “I didn’t fully know—this is all new to me, you know?” 

Mark nodded. So did Jaemin, against his collarbone. Having a conversation like this was ridiculous, but Jaemin didn’t move, and Mark didn’t seem bothered.

“But you made me feel so welcomed and comfortable. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s not always easy for me either,” Mark admitted. That got Jaemin’s attention. He lifted up, turned to Mark with his arm now around Renjun’s waist. “I’m always worried, even if only a little bit, that I’ll be what chases someone away from Jaemin.”

“That would never happen—”

“That’s ridiculous—”

Renjun and Jaemin talked over each other, both incredulous. 

“If anything, I like both of you more because of how much you like each other,” Renjun confessed. He felt Jaemin’s hand squeeze and relax. 

Mark looked shy. His eyes wandered down to the floor. “I’m happy to hear that.”

“Me, too,” Jaemin added quietly.

“Wait with me while I wait for the Uber?”

“Yeah, of course, let me grab a jacket.”

“I’ll see you later?” Renjun said to Mark before following Jaemin to the coat closet. 

“I hope so,” Mark replied. 

And Renjun hoped for that, too.

| | | 

Not even bothering to send a forewarning text message, Renjun jumped out of the Uber and into his own car to head straight to Jisung and Chenle’s place. He was right to assume Donghyuck would be there, but he didn’t love having to drag them out of Chenle’s bed, all cuddled up and whining about the intrusion even though it was already after noon. 

He gathered all his friends in the living room, with his phone propped up on a halli galli box and Yangyang on face time. 

“Why didn’t you respond to my eight texts asking if you were alive last night?” Jisung asked first. He looked worried, and Renjun did feel bad about that. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“No, no, I’m okay. I’m sorry for going ghost, I met a few of Jaemin’s friends last night, and then I ended up going to his house afterward. Stayed there over night.”

“Ohhhhhhh,” Chenle teased, with a shit-eating grin. Donghyuck was shuffling forward in his chair, wanting all the details.

“Was he good?” Yangyang asked from the phone. 

Renjun took a deep breath. “We didn’t fuck.” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Donghyuck deflate. “I—I met his boyfriend.”

Chaos ensued. 

Chenle’s “WHAT?!” was the loudest. Now Renjun understood how difficult it was for Jaemin to explain this to his dates. He had no idea how to ease into it.

Explaining that Jaemin and Mark were poly didn’t quiet the protests as he’d expected. His friends had many of the same concerns he’d had at first: why didn’t Jaemin tell him about this before they met? What if they’re just in it for the sex? 

“Hyung, he’s never going to choose you over his literal boyfriend,” Jisung said gently. “You’re going to end up heartbroken.

“It’s not about choice with them. They don’t want to be with just one person, like ever,” he insisted. 

A quiet settled over the room until Yangyang asked “Well, what do you want?” 

And that was the rub, wasn’t it? 

“That’s why I wanted to talk to all of you about it. I feel like I’m about to explode.”

“In a good way or a bad way?” Donghyuck wanted to know.

“In an overwhelmed way…”

As soon as he’d left Jaemin and Mark’s house, Renjun felt the weight of his everyday life settle back over him. The last twelve hours had felt insulated, as if he was living a different life. One where Mark brought him wine and Jaemin cooked him breakfast. The house, the conversation, the affection—he felt almost like a child, being that secure and cared for. It was a strange, strange sensation. 

The way he articulated his initial feeling was like this: “I like Jaemin, a lot, and he’s given me zero reason not to trust him. They seem to have a lot of boundaries with each other and their partners. I didn’t feel like I was a toy to him, or something.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” Jisung asked.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s good.” Renjun took a second to think about it, and his friends waited patiently. “Maybe the problem is that it feels too good to be true? I haven’t done anything to deserve all of this attention. He already has a boyfriend, someone he’s built an entire life with, but he wants me, too? Mark is incredible. Like, he’s hot and a musician but totally humble in a way that doesn’t feel insincere in the slightest, somehow. Why does Jaemin need me if he already has that? I don’t get it.”

He hadn’t even registered most of these thoughts while he was in their house, but now Renjun felt the anxiety crawling all over him. 

“Have you asked him that?” Chenle wondered. “What if you just asked him to explain it to you?”

“I hounded them with questions last night. I feel kind of bad interrogating him when I just want to have fun and go on dates and stuff.”

“And suck his dick,” Donghyuck added helpfully.

Renjun sighed. “Yeah.”

“Well, I think you’re selling yourself short,” Jisung concluded. Why shouldn’t he want you, too? Donghyuck hyung, if you wanted to date two people, would you choose Renjun hyung?”

Chenle whipped his head around. “Now that’s an interesting question.”

“I don’t think this is productive—”

“ABSOLUTELY” Donghyuck bellowed. He leapt across the room, throwing himself at Renjun who sat on the floor, in front of the coffee table. He made kissing sounds, lips pushed as far out from his face as they’d go.

“Get. Off. Of. Me,” Renjun demanded. Wrestling Donghyuck should have been harder. He was taller and more muscular than Renjun, but he always went limp whenever Renjun had to drag him around. Which was more often than you’d think.

Chenle helped to get Donghyuck back into his seat and then petted his hair, as if Donghyuck was the one who’d been wronged.

“Maybe getting your input was a bad idea,” Renjun started to say, breathless, but Yangyang declared that nonsense. 

“We know you better than anyone, our opinions are more important than whatever dumb insecurities your pretty little head comes up with.”

“Why don’t we meet Jaemin, too? You got to meet his friends—“

“—and his boyfriend ,” Chenle added.

“We could go to the arcade or something. Fun, low-stakes, no pressure for any of us.“

Jisung’s suggestion wasn’t a terrible one. There was this “adult” arcade in town, with the typical tokens, games, and ticket system, but everyone could drink. 

“Do you think—Mark and his girlfriend were there last night, and I think I’d want to invite them to hang out with us, too. Xiaoting’s Chinese, Chenle, she’s super cool. If—I’m afraid that Mark will become this cloud hanging over my head if I don’t keep reminding myself that he’s a variable in all this. I feel better when he’s there, weirdly enough.”

No one immediately replied. 

“If that’s what you want,” Yangyang said eventually.

Renjun nodded.

“Yeah, let’s do it.”

| | |

Coordinating the schedules of eight working adults was not an easy task. It ended up taking several weeks for them to all become available at once.

In the meantime, Renjun was developing a habit of calling or face timing Jaemin almost every night. He liked to hear about Jaemin’s day. Running a small business all by himself was much, much different from coordinating the designing, manufacturing, selling, and marketing of an entire brand. Jaemin did a lot of delegating to members of his team, but he had his hand in everything. 

Renjun was flattered when Jaemin texted him in the middle of the work day to ask his opinion on a product. 

“You have an artist’s eye,” he’d said, and Renjun blushed furiously alone in his studio. Before the call ended, Jaemin told him that if there weren’t a handful of ethical issues involved in contracting someone he was dating, he’d hire Renjun on the spot. 

It was probably a good thing to have some amount of separation between their work and private lives. If given the opportunity, Renjun would have let Jaemin absorb him completely. When they talked, he felt enveloped in Jaemin’s world of wonder: he was amused by cute things and cute people, not unlike Renjun was, and there was little difference between the way he doted on Luna, Lucy, and Luke, and the way he doted on Renjun. Yet it didn’t feel belittling at all. As the big-bang-weekend (as he’d deemed it in his head) approached, Renjun wondered if his friends would perceive it the same, or if they’d think Renjun was Jaemin’s pet project. Something to play with for a while and then let loose.

And he couldn’t help but worry about Mark in all this, too. 

i don’t want to overstep or anything
but i was wondering if you’d be able to tell me if mark and/or xiaoting get uncomfortable this weekend
i know my friends’ tells, and i know that you’d talk to me about it if there was something wrong with you
but i don’t know mark well enough, and im afraid I’ll miss something and he’ll be miserable without me realizing

first, you’re not overstepping at all and it’s really sweet for you to think about mark’s well-being
second i rlly doubt there’d be anything that could make mark miserable

maybe i just want him to like my friends and im afraid he’ll get the ick but i won’t know it? and i won’t be able to fix it in the moment?

i want to give you the confidence of knowing this isn’t mark’s first rodeo, but tbh, the other guys ive dated haven’t invited mark around much

oh

Renjun wasn’t accustomed to feeling so stopped in his tracks while talking to Jaemin. The flirting came natural; even his embarrassing stories were easy to tell. One night, Renjun laughed so hard he cried, just from one nonsensical thing Jaemin said about the potential benefits of doing a skincare routine on your dick. “Like a face mask,” Jaemin explained on speakerphone, and Renjun was relieved he didn’t live with roommates when he continued on: “but you put it on your dick for like thirty minutes before bed.”

The “moisturizing mask for your meat,” as Jaemin had sleepily deemed it, didn’t faze Renjun even kind of. 

But this left him absolutely out of sorts.

am i doing this wrong?
would you or mark or both prefer to keep everything more separate?

baby, no
we talked about it after you stayed over
and both agreed that spending time with you together is really nice
we might not be used to double dating all the time but we are expert communicators at this point
the only way this works is if we’re always checking in, adjusting boundaries, talking through how we’re feeling
one of the reasons we both feel so great with you is because you’re also really good at checking in
thats what you’re doing right now
and i rlly appreciate that
now trust me: you’re doing this completely right bc i like you and mark likes you and we both like your company

The swoosh in Renjun’s stomach led him to type more than just a simple thank you.

so you don’t hang out with them when xiaoting’s over?

not a ton. usual small talk but that’s really it. i don’t want to ever make her feel weird in our house
but again, that’s what felt right with her. with you, mark and i both agree that spending time all together is something we want to keep doing, in part because you keep wanting to do it, too

and you’ll tell me if that changes

absofuckinglutely

and you’ll keep me in the loop at the arcade if shit’s blowing up in my face and i don’t realize it?

yes 100%

okay

can the weekend be here alreaddyyyyyyy
i want to see you >:|

two more days

too many
bring a bag with you? stay over again?

And again and again, Renjun would, if Jaemin continued to ask.

| | | 

Things Renjun anticipated:

1. Chenle asking Jaemin to play the basketball game which counted how many baskets you made against your opponent in the thirty seconds allowed before demanding you were forced to add more tokens.
2. Xiaoting and Yangyang hitting it off immediately.
3. Jisung taking it easy, keeping close to Donghyuck and Renjun whenever he could.

Things Renjun did not for even a second consider:

1. Jaemin cutely shooting his baskets, shaking his ass more than perfecting his form. He had zero interest in matching Chenle’s competitive spirit, resulting in Chenle looking at him as if he had three heads.
2. Yangyang also spending a lot of time talking with Mark in English. Renjun knew Yangyang didn’t get much opportunity to keep practicing the English he learned at his international schooling growing up, not with their friend group. Mark looked, somehow, even more animated while chatting in his native language. Renjun found himself peeking over, watching his hands and eyes, without knowing what he was actually saying.
3. When Renjun and Donghyuck left Jisung to grab a round of shots for the group, Renjun returned to their table to see Jisung smiling sweetly at Jaemin. Everyone else was dispersed throughout the arcade playing or talking, but Jaemin must have come over when he saw Jisung was alone. Renjun knew Jisung well enough to sense when his social alarm bells were ringing out. He felt confident allowing them to get to know each other while he and Donghyuck passed around the liquid camaraderie.

From where Renjun stood with Chenle as he meticulously counted the number of tickets shoved into his pockets, he could see Donghyuck hand a shot to Mark, Xiaoting, and Yangyang. They talked near a row of claw machines that mostly remained abandoned compared to the other games on offer at the arcade. No one wanted to burn their overpriced tokens on a machine which was calibrated to be impossible to win. 

Donghyuck’s eyes shined while he leaned into Mark, undoubtedly teasing him for something that hopefully Mark didn’t take offense to. 

“Does it bother you at all?” Renjun asked Chenle, his eyes still on the scene at the machines. “If Donghyuck flirts with someone who’s poly?”

In Renjun’s world, being in a relationship afforded some amount of security, that a person would be less likely to cross a line than if they were single. In this context, that didn’t matter as much.

“Why would it?” Chenle answered. “I asked Jaemin some questions while we were playing skee ball—“

“—please tell me you didn’t give him the third degree—“

“—and I was impressed with how he described the whole arrangement. Him dating you is no different from me dating Donghyuck as far as fidelity goes. You expect him to be with you and Mark. He wouldn’t pursue someone else.”

“What if I changed my expectation?”

Chenle looked up from his tickets to see what might be hiding on his friend’s face.

“To what?”

“I don’t know.” And he really didn’t. Nothing felt as certain in his head as Jaemin made it, though. Once the norm of monogamy was stripped away, Renjun felt like anything could happen. There were no rules anymore, unless one of them made it so. If he was the one creating the boundaries, couldn’t he shift them, too? Couldn’t any of them? Mark, included?

“Ask Jaemin that, not me.”

“Okay.”

“You’re acting weird.” Chenle bumped his shoulder hard into Renjun’s. “Everyone’s cool. No icks to be found. Lighten up.”

Renjun nodded his head, convincing himself of it. “Okay.”

“I want greasy bar food,” Chenle told him. “Let’s order wings.”

The arrival of the chicken got everyone to the table at once. Renjun sat in the middle of one side, with Jaemin to his right and Jisung to his left. Mark and Xiaoting sat across from them, with the rest of their friends filling in the ends of each side. Now having warmed up to each other, the noise from their table rose above the yells of the winners and losers throughout the arcade.

Chenle and Mark bickered over their favorite basketball teams; Donghyuck and Xiaoting talked fashion. Jisung was telling Jaemin about the time he danced for a Don’t Skip a Meal commercial, and Jaemin’s eyes were huge with the realization that a second person in this group had a past entanglement with his brand. As Jaemin pulled up a video on his phone to see what Jisung’s dancing in the ad had looked like, Renjun offered for them to switch seats. 

Yangyang, now to his right, knocked his shoulder into Renjun’s much more lightly than Chenle had. 

“You hit the jackpot, dude.”

“Yeah?” 

“Two hot guys and they can both hold a conversation and have steady jobs? Not even Donghyuck scared Jaemin away, and I think he actively tried.”

Renjun ignored the ignorant implication that both Jaemin and Mark belonged to him. “Wait, I missed that. What did he do?”

“He might have propositioned Jaemin to be his sugar daddy, to see his reaction.”

Bolting upright, Renjun pointed his finger across the table. “Yah, Lee Donghyuck, are you crazy?”

Without looking up from Jaemin’s phone, Jisung was the one to reply by saying that of course Donghyuck was. They all knew that.

Yangyang yanked Renjun back to his seat, but Renjun sent one more glare across the table. It was Mark who caught his eye, not Donghyuck who’d already turned back to Xiaoting, uncaring. He tilted his head, and Yangyang was forcefully turning Renjun back to him.

“Jaemin didn’t even laugh it off, he gave Donghyuck, like, a proper lecture on why that was ridiculous,” Yangyang explained. “Donghyuck had his tail between his legs.”

Mark probably gave Donghyuck more of the reaction he thrived on , Renjun thought to himself. He’d seen Jungwoo tease Mark not unlike the way Donghyuck loved to push people’s buttons; Mark was gullible, in a way, but he never seemed to get angry if he was targeted by his friends, or in the case of Renjun’s friends, near-strangers. 

“I’m still going to beat his ass,” Renjun assured.

“Not tonight you won’t. Jisung told me you’re staying over with them again.”

“Snitch,” Renjun declared. How many more of his friends were going to betray him tonight?

“Don’t let Donghyuck win—he can’t be the only one getting it in tonight,” Yangyang said, winking, before getting up to refill his drink at the bar. 

Honestly, Renjun didn’t have the brain space to think about hooking up with Jaemin. Not when there was fried chicken to eat and dance-dance-revolution games to win. Well, he beat Chenle but Xiaoting did admittedly destroy him. She took her win streak to Yangyang, who wanted her to play some shooting game. 

And therefore, Renjun turned from the dance mat to find Mark and his earnest smile. 

“Wanna play?” 

“No, I’m not that good at rhythm games.”

Renjun pocketed the measly number of tickets he’d earned from losing. “Even though you’re a musician?”

“I think I just get too stressed or something. Wanna play pool?”

In an adjacent room to the main lobby were tables for pool and ping pong and a couple of run-down bowling lanes. This was one of those places which kind of failed at being the best arcade, the best bar, or the best rec center, but if you wanted to spend too much money to do all of it at once, you might as well come here. 

Less noisy and cooler, Renjun felt that he could breathe a bit better in here. 

“I’m not very good at stuff like this,” Renjun confessed as he grabbed a pool stick from a nearby wall display. He understood the basics, but he’d never been one to care long enough to actually try to get better. Not when he only encountered a pool table like twice a year, in situations just like this one.

“That’s okay,” Mark replied. He racked up the balls meticulously, clearly more practiced. “I’m mostly using this as an excuse to talk to you.”

“Oh, really?”

“You invited me here, but I’ve spent all night with your friends.” Renjun sent a shocked look across the table, and Mark sent a similar expression back. His mocking lost its full effect when Renjun could spot a slight smile at the corners of his mouth. “I racked, so you start.”

Renjun did not, in fact, do that. He cocked his hip against the wooden side of the table. “Have they not been entertaining you well enough?”

Mark bypassed his stalling efforts just the same. Renjun was being moved by the waist to the short end. Mark positioned him in front of the cue ball, used his hands at Renjun’s elbow and wrist to set him up to take the first shot. 

“Everybody’s been super cool,” he did in fact admit, once Renjun hit the cue ball with less force than was required to sink anything on his first turn. 

If Mark didn’t come in here caring about the game, it was difficult for Renjun to tell. He wasn’t exactly competitive like Chenle was. It felt more like earnestness. When Mark tried something—anything at all—he took it seriously. When that kind of energy was aimed towards him, Renjun felt erroneously special.

Mark was one of those people who made it look effortless, too. It was humiliating to have Mark carry a conversation and still be above average at this stupid game while Renjun had to wait until his turn was over before he could find words which made sense to come one after another. He protested the pacing of his next turn by taking an inordinate amount of time to chalk the tip of his stick.

“I was genuinely worried about that.”

“Jaemin told me you were being really sweet about the whole thing.”

“Ah.” He wondered how long it would take for Jaemin and Mark talking about him when he wasn’t around to feel normal and not embarrassing as hell. “I know they can be a lot…”

“Have you met Na Jaemin?” Mark replied. “He’s probably been on his best behavior so far with you, but trust me, he fits right in with these vibes. MIght be the weirdest one among them. I don’t think anything they could do would scare him away from you.”

Choosing to go ahead and take his turn, Renjun was able to think about that for a moment. He wanted the version of Jaemin who Mark got to see. A heat like jealousy swelled in him, and the cue ball missed touching a single other ball as it banged around the table. None the wiser, Mark snatched up the cue ball and walked around the table to get close to where his balls laid.

“Hey!” Renjun protested.

“That was a foul. I get to place wherever I want.”

If this was Donghyuck, he would have been swinging his pool stick at his head. Because he was with Mark instead, Renjun placed his palms together, equipped his puppy dog eyes. “I object.”

“And what does that mean,” Mark asked, laughing.

“Give me a chance to try again,” Renjun requested. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Don’t offer that to just anyone,” Mark warned. “In English sitcoms and movies, hustling someone at a pool hall is a thing. Play badly at first to get them to bet a bunch of money on the winner of the game, and then kick their asses. You’re too cute, you could trick anyone into giving you anything, when you look like that.”

“But I’m offering it to you ,” Renjun clarified. Pool was stupid. Mark wasn’t getting that he wanted his attention. “What do you want from me?” 

“That I could have right now? In here?”

No, honestly, that wasn’t what he was thinking at all. “What would you want if we were at home?” Renjun said instead. He held his breath, buzzing all over to hear what Mark would say.

Mark, on the other hand, didn’t entertain even a joking response. He gave up immediately, told Renjun that he’d “won.” Placing the cue ball in Renjun’s palm, Mark instructed him to put it wherever he wanted to. Renjun felt himself dragged backwards away from danger, against his will.

“You owe me a wish, then,” Renjun insisted, still caring little about the game in front of them. “Later. Tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.”

Mark nodded but didn’t say a word more. He stayed silent, as Renjun once again failed to even graze one of his balls. With a sigh that might have hinted at some exasperation, Mark walked around the table, leaned over Renjun’s back to get him into the right position. With his right hand, he held onto the pool stick behind where Renjun’s was. With his left, he forced Renjun’s fingers into a kind of stand that his stick could glide against, resulting in a more accurate aim. 

Mark was concentrating with more effort than Renjun was. He didn’t notice that Xiaoting was walking towards their pool table, and his steadfast motions to pull back and follow through with the shot were all that kept Renjun pinned to the table. 

“There you go!” Mark praised him for the sinking of two balls at once which he basically executed. Xiaoting clapped for them, and that’s what grabbed Mark’s attention.

“Having fun?” she asked. Renjun would describe it more like getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar, but Mark was saying something about the quality of the pool tables at bars which he didn’t really understand. 

Renjun suggested that they should play a game together, given how much he sucked. Mark tried defending his honor or some shit while Renjun began to corral the balls into the rack. 

“I’m not going to be any better,” Xiaoting revealed. 

Mark tucked her hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead. “I’ll show you.”

Renjun told them to have fun and got the hell out of there. At the bar, he saw Jaemin waiting for the bartender to make his next drink. He walked over, placed his arm around Jaemin’s waist, and kissed the back of his neck.

Jaemin turned, smiling so widely his cheeks, not quite as pink as his drink, became round and full. “I missed you.”

“What have you gotten up to?” Renjun asked while they walked back to their empty table to chat.

“Chenle’s wanted me to play every two-person game in this whole place, so I used Jisung as a shield. I kept asking him to play for me, and he’s so nice, he never said no.”

“Park Jisung, a saint.”

“I dutifully watched everything they played, though. Chenle’s scary good at all hand-eye coordination stuff. Jisung had him beat on more video-game kind of stuff.”

As someone who wasn’t good at either, Renjun didn’t have much to add. “Yeah?”

“Donghyuck’s good at sideline commentary.”

“Oh, I have no doubt,” Renjun replied. “I’m happy he wasn’t there to talk shit about how bad I am at pool.”

“Is that what you and Mark were doing? I wondered where you disappeared to.”

Renjun felt a pang of guilt. “Yeah, Mark didn’t know what he was getting himself into when he asked me to play. Xiaoting took over for me so now he can at least make out with his opponent, if nothing else.”

“Hm,” Jaemin hummed. “I doubt it. Not that into PDA.”

Renjun flashed back to Mark’s weight against his back. The warmth of Mark’s hands against his hands.

“While you’re an exhibitionist, Mr. first-kiss-in-front-of-your-friends.”

“Hey, I didn’t hear you complaining!”

“And I’m not going to complain about this either.”

Renjun kissed him in the middle of the bar, in the middle of the arcade, beside the crappy pool room. His friends were somewhere nearby, Mark somewhere farther. Jaemin’s tongue was in his mouth, and Renjun’s heart thumped, thumped, thumped to a winner’s melody of his own creation.

| | |

One more thing Renjun hadn’t anticipated: Xiaoting came back to the house with them. When all the cheap trinkets had been bought with their hoard of tickets, and Jaemin horrifyingly picked up the tab for the whole group, Renjun hopped into the back of Mark’s car with Jaemin. Mark and Xiaoting held hands on the center console as Mark drove them all home with one hand.

Renjun sensed a laundry list of questions at the tip of his tongue, but he had little time to steal Jaemin away to ask any of them. Via some cat parent telepathy, Mark and Jaemin both knew that something was awry no sooner had they walked through the door. Tiny bits of fluff scattered throughout the entryway revealed themselves as the first clue.

“Fuck,” Jaemin yelled from where he’d run upstairs to assess the supposed damage. “Mark, they tore into the new pillows, whyyyyyyy.”

“Oh no,” Mark groaned from where he was looking under the couch in the living room. “You two chat, we’ll clean this up before the babies swallow any more than they probably already have.”

“Need help?” Xiaoting asked, but Mark assured them that they could handle it. 

So Renjun and Xiaoting poured themselves some much needed water after the alcohol and salty food from the arcade, and sat at the kitchen table where Renjun ate breakfast the last time he was here. 

“ Thank you for inviting us tonight, ” Xiaoting started in mandarin. “ I haven’t been out with a big group like that since moving to Korea. ”

“ I’m happy you could come, ” Renjun replied sincerely. ”Yangyang told me to give you his number so you could get coffee sometime.”

“I’d love that. I should have your number, too. In case some…polycule emergency happens or something.”

Renjun breathed out a relaxing sigh. It was so much easier to cut through the tension of their situation when Xiaoting acknowledged it head-on. One of the many reasons he liked her. 

  “Jaemin mentioned early on that this was your first time dating someone who’s poly. Me, too,” Renjun told her. 

Xiaoting made a funny face at a banging sound from upstairs. In the living room, the cats who knew better than to confront their destruction upstairs scattered under the furniture in order to hide from the clattering. “It’s wild and yet…completely normal in a way, isn’t it?”

“That’s a good way to put it. When we’re alone or out with you two, it’s easy to forget they’re also dating each other. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or if I’m just deluding myself,” he admitted. It felt nice to air this out with someone who understood.

“I like that they respect us enough not to flaunt their connection to each other in front of our faces,” Xiaoting explained. He got that, but in a different way, Renjun felt inevitably left out, as if he was missing something he desperately wanted to witness for himself, if not be apart of. 

“Any advice?” Renjun rushed to ask before Mark and Jaemin made their way back downstairs. Xiaoting hummed as she took a long sip of water from her glass. 

“I’m not any more of an expert than you are—Mark and I have only been dating for a few months—but I guess, if Jaemin is anything like Mark, tell him what you want, or need, or don’t like, and he’ll listen. Dating him hasn’t convinced me that poly works for just anyone. It’s shown me that these two people are the best versions of themselves, separately and with each other, when they’re in this kind of arrangement. Also, I think what makes a typical relationship work is similar to what makes this work—communication, trust, respect. It’s just heightened.”

“And in a new context,” Renjun added. He hadn’t been able to articulate his thoughts anywhere as nicely as Xiaoting had. In some unhinged way, he wished he would have recorded her just then, so he could play back her musings for his friends. Everyone assured him before they left the arcade that tonight had assuaged their worries. Renjun still wondered, though, how long it’d take for one of them to ask him something he didn’t have an answer to. Not knowing, not being in control, not feeling secure—it all freaked him out immensely. 

“If I haven’t said it before—I’m happy Jaemin has you. Before, when it was just Mark who was dating outside of their relationship, Jaemin seemed so much more out of it than he is now. And including us has made Mark happy, too. You’re good for them,” Xiaoting said, and Renjun felt deep satisfaction to hear it. He was so wrapped up in the moving expectations of what might constitute wrongdoing, that he too easily brushed off when he received praise from even Jaemin. Coming from Xiaoting, the compliment was easier to internalize. She had no investment in him or his involvement with Jaemin: he had no choice but to believe her.

Not wishing to give away the content of their conversation as he heard Mark and Jaemin barrel back down the stairs, Renjun replied with a grateful smile. Xiaoting winked at him. Renjun tried not to laugh.

“Sorry for all of that,” Mark was the one to say. “They’re still young, and if they’re left alone for too long, they lash out.” While they were gone, Mark and Jaemin both changed into loungewear. Mark looked worn out, his sweat-soaked hair pushed back away from his face. Jaemin could have just come from the spa: he had on a fresh coat of lip oil, a headband with bunny ears. Renjun registered them both, in different ways, deliriously attractive in that moment. Maybe that’s what he should have asked Xiaoting, instead of the vague request for advice. Did she find Jaemin magnetic? Was she attracted to Mark’s life with Jaemin? 

“I’m going to cut some fruit so we can get something in our stomachs that isn’t fried. Renjun, want to help?” Jaemin asked. Renjun happily joined him at the fridge. Jaemin pulled out containers of blueberries, oranges, and apples. Renjun set about washing while Jaemin chopped and added the prepared fruit to a serving bowl. In the living room, he heard Mark tell Xiaoting what the carnage in their bedroom looked like. 

“Mark didn’t tell me she was staying over until we were about to leave the arcade,” Jaemin told him quietly as he rinsed off the knife and returned the leftover fruit to their containers. “I hope it’s okay. Like I said, we don’t usually go out together, so there’s not usually a traffic jam in the house like this.”

“Jaem, I’m good,” Renjun assured him. He popped a blueberry into his mouth. “As long as you’re okay, I mean.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s just…Want to come upstairs with me? If I do any more socializing tonight my head is going to explode.”

“Oh, is that? Is that okay?”

Jaemin grabbed a second, smaller bowl and scooped a serving of the fruit for them to take upstairs. 

“I asked Mark while we were cleaning up the pillow fluff, and he didn’t mind staying downstairs with Xiaoting while we take the bedroom.”

“Why would he be okay with that?” Renjun blurted out loud. He committed the bed rule to memory as soon as he’d heard it. He couldn’t imagine what a betrayal it could be to cross that particular line.

“I don’t know. No way I would have had the same answer if he asked me. But I trust that what he says is how he really feels.”

“Okay…” Renjun replied, anxious. He followed Jaemin into the living room to drop off the bigger bowl onto the coffee table anyway. They wished Mark and Xiaoting a goodnight, and Renjun stupidly looked back over his shoulder before turning to climb the stairs. Mark was watching them as Xiaoting grabbed the remote and began to flip through channels. Renjun wanted to have his own wish he could cash in at right this moment, to know what was going through Mark’s head to allow them into his bed.

He tried leaving his curiosity on the first floor. Because this was fucking huge (both the bedroom, which was bigger than his living room, and the fact that he was going to be alone with Jaemin for more than just a few minutes for the first time). 

If Renjun was tasked with choosing different parts of the bedroom and assigning them to Mark or Jaemin, like it was a sorting game for children, he thought he’d get a pretty good score. The duvet on the large bed was neatly folded down at the top of the mattress and tucked underneath on the sides; Jaemin’s doing, almost certainly. Around the tv which sat atop a wooden dresser were books, notebooks, video game cases: that had to be Mark. The tall cat tree in the corner belonged to their three kids. The Na Jaemin making himself comfortable on the edge of the bed, at least for tonight, was Renjun’s alone.

“This is cute,” Renjun said, standing in between Jaemin’s parted knees. The position was familiar; they’d arrange themselves just like this in the guest room, weeks ago. This time, he toyed with the bunny ears of Jaemin’s headband.

Jaemin tugged at Renjun’s thighs such that he’d tip forward onto him. Giving Renjun an out, he shifted Renjun beside him, rather than straddling his lap. “You’ve unlocked the true nighttime Jaemin experience.”

“Yeah?” Renjun asked, propping himself up on one elbow. Jaemin did the same. “What else should I expect?”

“Hmmmm…an annoying amount of cuddling.”

“Oh, of course.”

“Maybe some snoring.”

“You’re really not holding back,” Renjun replied, laughing happily.

“Pretending to watch tv while I really just want to be kissing you,” Jaemin added, and that was all Renjun needed to make his intentions clear. He lifted himself onto Jaemin’s thighs.

“Save your power bill,” Renjun whispered.

“Ride a cowboy,” Jaemin replied, and Renjun shushed whatever nonsense that was by kissing him.

He never wasn’t satisfied when Jaemin’s mouth was on his, but Renjun hadn’t yet been able to make out with him properly. Now, Jaemin’s hands were under his shirt, roaming up and down his sides and back. He could run his hands through Jaemin’s hair, knocking the headband aside. Alone, Renjun didn’t have to think about how indecent it might be to press his tongue fully, slowly, against Jaemin’s. He could feel spit at the corners of his mouth, a spark licking through his stomach as Jaemin squeezed his ass through the thin fabric of his sleepwear.

As eager as he was, it felt too good to just take their time. Renjun might have stayed like that—slowly, methodically grinding against Jaemin, separating from his mouth only to pant into his ear—if not for the distraction of Jaemin’s fingers. Renjun was all but squirming, couldn’t help it, when Jaemin prevented him from focusing on one sensation for long. He was rubbing at Renjun’s nipples, dipping beneath the sensitive skin at Renjun’s waistband, pressing the pads of his fingers into where he knew Renjun’s asshole to be. With impressive coordination, Jaemin didn’t stop kissing him, either. With each new whine he elicited from Renjun, Renjun could feel him smile against his mouth.

“You are so fucking sexy,” Jaemin praised, sounding winded for all of his efforts. 

“How can you even say that?” Renjun asked. He sat up to rest his weight against Jaemin’s thighs.

“Please let me touch you.” Jaemin was pleading, and who was Renjun to deny him this? He took Jaemin’s wrist, brought it first to his lips to leave light kisses at his pulse point, second to his waistband. At Jaemin’s sharp inhale, Renjun moved forward, back to his mouth, to taste his tongue as Jaemin slid his pants down below his ass and balls. Jaemin flipped them then so Renjun was on his back, his shirt messily hiked up, and his cock exposed. 

“Don’t hold back for even a second,” Jaemin told him between the trail of kisses he left from Renjun’s sternum to his navel. “Okay?”

Renjun nodded his head, dazed. With Jaemin’s mouth on him, he wasn’t capable of coherent thought. The effect only worsened, when Jaemin alternated between squeezing his balls and massaging his asshole, never slowing down the steady rhythm of his tongue as he flicked, flicked, flicked just under the head of Renjun’s cock on each stroke. 

“Jaem, I’m going to—“ He squeezed his eyes shut, hard, hoped Jaemin would pop off of him if he didn’t want his come down his throat, and let it all go. “Holy, fuckkkkkk.”

“Mmmmmm,” Jaemin hummed, licking up all the come that slipped down Renjun’s shaft. “I’ve been thinking about doing that since the first time I saw you.”

“I can’t believe you objectified me,” Renjun teased. He felt delirious now. Spent and satiated, a sensation that only sex ever provided. Jaemin came back up to lay beside him. He petted Renjun’s hair. Kissed him sweetly. 

His mouth broke into a shit-eating grin as he said, “Coming is part of the nighttime Jaemin experience, just so we’re clear.” 

“I’ll be sure to rate you highly on Naver,” Renjun quipped and he was grateful Jaemin didn’t try to joke back, because he needed to focus now on making Jaemin feel as good as he was feeling. “How do you like to come, baby?”

“As much as I want your mouth,” Jaemin answered. “I want to be able to kiss you.”

Renjun smiled at that. He liked kissing Jaemin, too. “Tell me if it’s too dry.”

Spitting into his palm, Renjun slipped his hand into Jaemin’s pajamas, squeezed around the weight of him as he licked past Jaemin’s soft lips. 

“Ahhhh,” Jaemin breathed out. 

It was incredibly intimate to stroke Jaemin’s cock while their faces remained connected, if not by their lips than by the tips of their noses, or at their sweat-soaked foreheads. Renjun inhaled every sound Jaemin made, tried his best to keep his full attention on the curve of Jaemin’s eyebrows, to know if he needed to adjust. 

When he could feel his palm dry out, he whispered a quick “I’ll be right back, I promise,” and slicked Jaemin’s cock back up by swallowing him down. Jaemin was bigger than he was; the stretch of Renjun’s lips around his shaft was delicious, made even better by Jaemin being unable to control a few deep thrusts into his mouth. Next time, he wanted to make Jaemin come just like this. He’d make sure of it. 

For tonight, though, Renjun gave Jaemin exactly what he asked for: when Jaemin warned him that he was close, Renjun tightened the circle of his fist, made sure to twist his wrist on every stroke, licked into every corner of Jaemin’s mouth.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Jaemin panted. Right before Renjun felt his come on his hand, he saw Jaemin roll his eyes into his head and then smile with pure bliss. 

Renjun moved his fingers down to Jaemin’s balls and then his hip and around to his ass, to touch him in less sensitive places. He wasn’t ready to separate himself from someone this beautiful just yet. Jaemin’s hands were free, though, so he brought Renjun in for a tight hug. They laid like that, with their legs entangled, for longer than might have been advised when Jaemin had come in his pants. 

Eventually Renjun convinced him that they should rinse off. Seeing Jaemin naked and wet made it so very hard to leave the warmth of the shower and change into fresh clothes. 

“I’m going to grab some water,” Renjun told Jaemin once he’d brushed his teeth and applied his moisturizer. In a way that could only feel normal coming from Jaemin, he suggested that they do a face mask together and actually watch some tv before they fell asleep. So Renjun left Jaemin to rifle through his skincare collection to decide on the perfect regimen for Renjun’s skin type and made his way back downstairs to the kitchen. 

Enough moonlight shone through from the window above the sink that Renjun knew at once that someone else was awake. At the sink, Mark had his back to him. He must have heard Renjun come down the stairs. Before Renjun could decide if he should turn right back around or not, Mark himself turned. With some kind of midnight snack in his hand, Mark startled. 

He mumbled with his mouth full, something that sounded like getting hungry and Jaemin being too good at making sweets. Renjun smiled politely, uncomfortable with the reminder that they weren’t alone, that he might have been any level of loud, that Mark might have heard them. Xiaoting, too. But then he equally realized he had no idea where anything was in the kitchen because Jaemin never allowed him to lift a finger. 

“Do you have a bottle or something I could take water upstairs in?” he asked Mark, who gobbled down the rest of his pastry and moved deftly between the cabinets, the freezer, and the sink. 

If Mark had handed him the bottle and given him a curt nod, Renjun would have gone back upstairs, and that would have been that. But he didn’t. So Renjun didn’t.

“Are you, uh,” Mark began to say, clearing his throat. He leaned back against the counter, crossed his arms over his chest. “comfortable upstairs?”

Renjun blinked twice, “Um, yeah, the bedroom is really lovely.”

“Good, good, that’s good.”

Not knowing what to say, but feeling unable to leave, Renjun rested his chin on the water bottle he held tightly in his hands. 

“You weren’t so bad at pool, by the way,” Mark blurted, and that made Renjun laugh. He tried to stay quiet, in case Xiaoting was already asleep.

“Why are you still thinking about that?” 

“I don’t know,” Mark answered honestly. “Just wanted you to know I had fun, playing with you.”

“Oh, um, thanks.” Renjun tried thinking of any other thing he could say, which wasn’t what he really wanted to know. When he arrived at a dead end, he just let it out: “How many rules would it be breaking if we hung out sometime? Like, just the two of us? I always feel like I’m—sneaking around, almost, when I’m with you, because everyone else has been with us. But I like you. Hanging out with you.”

Mark looked as if he was trying to hide a smile. “I don’t know, honestly, Renjun. I keep wanting to rewrite the rules, when it comes to you.”

All the air got knocked out of Renjun’s lungs. He could sense it, tonight with the bed, but to hear Mark say it. What the fuck was happening?

“I’ll let you talk to Jaemin about it,” he decided. “You can tell him I was the one who brought it up. But you two should talk.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right.” 

“Thank you,” Renjun said, “for the bottle.” Somehow, that snapped them both out of the intensity of the moment.

“No, I was just going to let you die of dehydration after getting your back blown out.”

“Oh my GOD,” Renjun complained, louder than he meant to. 

Then Jaemin was whispering his name from the top of the stairs, and the guest bed’s springs squeaked. 

“Go,” Mark encouraged as he tipped his chin towards the second floor. “He’s going to cling to you all night, so I’ll turn the air conditioning down a bit.”

Renjun thanked him, breathed out one long, steadying breath, and started back up the stairs.

| | |

He knew that Mark had that conversation with Jaemin once he got a text message from a number he didn’t have saved in his phone.

hey
i was thinking
would you want to come into the studio with me next week?
i’ll just be practicing on Wednesday, not working with the team
thought you might be interested in the setup

Markkkkk
hi ^^
that sounds awesome
i’d love to tag along
can’t wait~

Renjun wanted nothing more than to know right in that instant what Jaemin and Mark talked about, how they came to this conclusion that Renjun and Mark spending time alone wasn’t strange or inappropriate. But he decided to be patient. He wanted his time at the studio to be fun, relaxed, and he feared knowing any number of details would cause him to spiral into self doubt.

Having Mark pick him up at his downtown office felt too much, so he drove himself over to Mark’s work after he finished packing all the orders which had come through since yesterday. Mark was waiting outside of the high-rise building Renjun’s GPS told him housed the studio. He handed Renjun one of the two coffees he was holding. 

“Yo,” he greeted, in his casual beanie and joggers. For some reason, Renjun expected to see him in ‘work attire,’ different from how he’d seen Mark dressed every other time they’d met up. But even here, during regular business hours, Mark looked comfortable and casual. In that sense, Renjun felt like he knew Mark. The way he was with Renjun wasn’t that different from how he’d seen him with Jaemin or Xiaoting. While walking into the expensive recording studio which Mark worked in, however, Renjun realized that he really didn’t know Mark’s power level in the slightest. 

“So I sing in here,” Mark explained, gesturing into the small room adjacent to all of the fancy equipment Renjun was too afraid to touch, “and then the other guys are out here, listening and giving me feedback. I can do more than ten takes on just a single word so the producers can decide how they want it to sound in the final recording.”

“Whoa,” Renjun breathed out, impressed. “I’ve seen videos on YouTube of behind the scenes recording footage, but I’ve never really thought about how demos get made.”

Mark sat down in one of the many rolling chairs lined up at the dashboard of knobs and switches. Renjun gingerly sat in the chair next to his and inspected the dash carefully, as if he knew what he was looking at. “A lot of time the guide is even before the demo, too. I didn’t know everything that went into it before I started here.”

“Do you ever…wish you were the one in the final product?” Renjun wondered. “That your voice and artistry were on the radio? Jisung told me that you can dance, too, you told him about being in a dancing club in college. You could be an idol, easy.”

“I don’t know,” Mark replied. “This job satisfies my creativity. I can’t imagine myself as a ‘celebrity.’”

He laughed, but Renjun’s mind was already working a million miles a minute. If Donghyuck dressed Mark in designer, fitted clothes. If instead of watching Mark sing on the back porch of their house, Renjun watched him on a stage, under bright lights, while he waved a light stick from the crowd. It was totally possible.

“I wanted to be a writer,” Mark confessed into the silence of Renjun’s fantasy. 

“Really?” 

“I have a lot of chaos in my head,” he continued. “Writing helps me to process things.”

“I’d love to read it. Even if it’s something you wrote for fun, if I could peak into you…” Renjun trailed off, meaning to say something more normal.

“You’re seeing behind the curtain right now.” Mark gestured to the room. That was technically true. “Here—I’ll give you a full show. When I get in there,” he pointed to the recording booth, “press this button. I’ll tell you when I’m ready, and then hit this one.”

“Are you sure—“

“Yes, Renjun. Yes.”

Renjun nodded then, sat up straighter in his chair. Once Mark was inside the booth and speaking into the mic, he explained that his team was working on a verse which had two versions: one completely in Korean, and one where Mark added in some English  phrases. He was going to record both, and wanted Renjun’s feedback on which was better.

Mark alternating between melodic singing and what was almost a rapping flow enraptured Renjun. Perhaps because he just learned about Mark being a writer, he imagined this performance more like spoken poetry. A peak into Mark’s soul. No longer relaxing on his porch, Mark’s eyes were open, his entire upper body moving with the inflection he added to the syllables he most wanted to emphasize.

Renjun listened with rapt attention to the English version, too. The words weren’t familiar to him, but the rhythm of the revised verses was noticeably different to Renjun’s ear. 

“What does ‘mesmerizing’ mean?” Renjun asked, pressing down the speaker button when Mark finished.

“It’s like being…entranced by someone. They catch your eye, and you can’t help but to pay attention to them.”

“Mesmerizing…” Renjun said again, slowly, rolling the letters around until they sounded closer to what Mark sounded like. Yangyang always told him that his pronunciation was scary good for someone who never formally had to learn English growing up. “Was there chaos in your head when you wrote the English part of the lyrics?” Renjun added. He wondered if songwriting scratched the same itch in his brain as other types of writing could.

“Yeah,” Mark answered. Renjun was looking at him through a thick pane of glass, his responses through the speaker just a tiny bit delayed from when Renjun watched his mouth form the words. 

“Being ‘mesmerized’ so easily by people, that must be hard?” They weren’t talking about the quality of the music, even though that’s what Mark wanted. 

“This song, it’s about how dangerous it can be, to feel drawn to someone, when you know you shouldn’t.” 

“But you can,” Renjun insisted. “You can, at least, even if the average person can’t.” 

Mark didn’t seem able to stand still in front of the mic. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Sometimes, people are off limits.” 

No, they weren’t talking about the music at all. 

“I think you should keep the English lyrics,” Renjun told him resolutely. “You sing them like they’re yours.”

Mark nodded seriously, as if a producer was the one with that suggestion. “I might add even more,” Mark decided. “Might help me to process this feeling of wanting something I can’t have.”

Renjun’s finger hurt from holding down the speaker button for this long, but he kept talking. “I know you said it doesn’t bother you, but I can’t imagine someone else singing this song when it’s your story.”

“There’s a kind of safety in that, though. I can hide behind it.”

“Well, everytime I hear this on the radio, I’m going to think of you and you only,” Renjun revealed.

“You better,” Mark teased as he made his way back into the main part of the studio. Now that they were on the same side of the glass, a playful glint returned to Mark’s eyes. He fluctuated so beautifully between serious artist and a chill, funny guy Chenle could have met through basketball practice. “Want to go bother Jaemin at work?” 

Renjun’s eyes went wide. “Are we allowed to do that?”

“Hell yeah.” 

They both smiled. “Let’s go.”

| | | 

Jaemin’s headquarters was close enough that they could walk but far enough that Mark had time to vividly recall a time Jeno tripped on a sidewalk and cried all the way home thinking he’d broken his mother’s back. 

“I was trying not to laugh,” he said, “because I knew it probably hurt like shit and that’s what he was actually worried about, but it was honestly so funny.” 

“So Jeno was your friend before you met Jaemin?”

Mark nodded. “Jeno and Jungwoo, actually. Grew up with Jeno and met Jungwoo in college. Jaemin is such a fun-loving person to be around, but his job takes a lot out of him, socially, and he doesn’t have a lot of reserves to maintain friendships with people outside of, like, social media. He decompresses by himself, usually. Honestly, you’ve gotten him out a ton. You’ve given him an outlet he doesn’t usually have.”

Renjun tugged on Mark’s elbow to ensure they didn’t walk themselves into a lamppost. “It’s weird, it’s almost like that for me, but in an opposite way, because I do a lot of work from home, and it’s like you two have shown me what it’s like to feel good at home when there’s no work involved.”

Mark smiled at him. “That’s really cool. It feels the most alive at our place when you’re there.” 

Renjun’s skin tingled hearing that. He suddenly wished they were walking up a mountain, to a summit, where he could attribute this rush to the exertion; this hope to the view. But this was the middle of a city. Cars passed them by. Someone honked. Mark guided him into an office building where they rode the elevator to the fifth floor.

It was Renjun’s idea to hide behind Mark as they scooted themselves into Jaemin’s office. Luckily, Jaemin was distracted by his computer, wasn’t paying enough attention to notice two pairs of feet at his doorway. 

Mark had his arms behind his back, not suspicious in the slightest, and Renjun pressed his fingers into Mark’s palms. When Jaemin looked up from his computer, finally sensing them, Mark squeezed, and Renjun knew to jump out as a surprise. 

Confusion, shock, and elation danced across Jaemin’s face, all in quick succession. He hurried to come around his desk and, unexpected to both Mark and Renjun, hugged them at the same time. Renjun was sandwiched delightfully, squished out of his mind. 

“What are you guys doing here?” Jaemin asked in a cute whine. “I thought you wanted alone time.”

His phrasing made Renjun’s stomach swirl. 

Mark answered for them: “We had fun at the studio already.” And then he told Jaemin that he missed him, with a kiss to his temple. 

Jaemin stood there, beaming, with his boyfriend on his arm, and his partner asking detailed questions about his setup. Renjun got to see Jaemin’s insane looking work calendar, with projects planned out for the entire upcoming year. Wall hangings included the business’ first dollar and a collection of posters from the college wellness center where Jaemin’s brand first became popular. Embarrassingly, Renjun recognized that on a shelf opposite of his desk, in clear view while Jaemin worked, were the prints and stationary he’d bought from Renjun’s shop. If someone walked into this office, they’d assume Jaemin was proudly displaying his own products. But Jaemin was displaying his pride in Renjun instead. 

The affection he felt for Jaemin upon this realization was immense. It was daunting, almost, knowing that someone he liked was capable of this much adoration in every direction he turned. A person like Jaemin could easily be the one soaking it up, receiving all the praise, but he reflected it outward just the same, so that all who surrounded him felt the security of being seen and sensing wonder. 

Renjun watched as Jaemin and Mark flitted around the office, explaining this and that. He imagined them like revolving mirror balls, their vast capacity for love shining on each other, amplifying each other’s light, and gracefully reaching to warm him all over. 

It was blinding. Scorching.

“Hey, do you want to, to come to my place tonight?”

They both turned, but Jaemin was the one to answer: “Yes, cutie, I’d love to.”

“Mark, do you have plans with Xiaoting?”

His eyes darted between Renjun and Jaemin. “Um, not ever during the week, no.”

“Come to mine?”

“I—I don’t want to impose, and I stole you away this afternoon.”

“Trust what he says,” Jaemin suggested to Mark. “If he wants you to come, he means it.”

Could it always be as easy as Jaemin made it seem? Say what you mean. Don’t overthink it. Trust, trust, trust. 

“What do you want?” Mark turned to Jaemin fully. 

“I would never turn down an opportunity to be with my favorite people.”

And so they all trusted that to be true.

| | | 

When the adrenaline of a split-second decision settled, Renjun realized he needed to go home and clean, fast. Jaemin needed to get back to work after they bombarded his office for an hour anyway, and Mark agreed to run home and feed the cats so there’d be no more pillow destroying incidents once the routine-obsessed kitties figured out that their dads weren’t home at their usual Wednesday night time. 

That gave Renjun a couple of hours to get his shit together. Starting with the kitchen, he loaded the dishwasher, put away a stack of clothes that he kept moving around his room, and vacuumed the fuck out of the carpet. He got some dinner going, refusing to appear as if he lived like a college student in an overpriced apartment with an ever-revolving delivery bag on his stoop. 

He was putting a soccer match on the living room tv when a knock sounded at the door. He ran to the bathroom to check that he didn’t look haggard, took a deep breath, and let them in.

Renjun’s apartment wasn’t meant for three people, but he’d had his friends over often enough that Mark and Jaemin didn’t consume the space entirely. Around his coffee table they ate a Chinese dish Chenle insisted was always a crowd pleaser, while Jaemin caught them up on how the rest of his day transpired. Mark and Renjun had almost opposite eating styles: Mark gobbled up the food so quickly he sat back on his palms to provide running commentary on Jaemin’s coworkers whom he was obviously familiar with, while Renjun grabbed small bits of food from each bowl on the table, sometimes passing a bite to Jaemin. He was the last one to finish while also somehow eating the least.

The couple tried to once more demand that Renjun was barred from doing the dishes, but he pulled a ‘my house my rules’ move. Mark still offered to help, though, so Jaemin had to sit pretty on the couch while his partners cleaned up. 

Treating them was more important to Renjun than he knew before this night. He’d been so transfixed on the disparity in their incomes and dwellings that he hadn’t considered what it could feel like to invite two people he liked this much into his personal space. Mark and Jaemin were so much more real to him, sitting on his bed and listening to Renjun explain the importance of each of his many scented candles. It was too easy to feel that he was entering a different world while at their house; here, they made up all of his. 

“Wouldn’t it be crazy,” Renjun said, as Mark flipped through an old sketchbook filled with his designs, “if you wrote a story and then I illustrated it? And then Jaemin marketed it with like, a plushie or something?”

“I can see the headline now. ‘Throuple Business Moguls At It Again.’”

Jaemin was joking, and Renjun had been, too, but Renjun swallowed thickly even still.

“‘You might not agree with their lifestyle, but you cannot deny their talent, colon, throuple designers release latest product,’” Mark added. They laughed harder at that. 

“We’d be so hot and successful, wow.” Jaemin sounded impressed at their fictional selves.

“To be fair,” Mark replied. “We’re pretty hot and successful right now.”

Renjun thought back to Yangyang telling him that he’d hit the jackpot. With these two, he really had. 

“Speaking of that—“ Jaemin scooted to the edge of his bed, and Renjun rolled his desk chair closer to him. “Renjun, there’s going to be a release party for an album Mark worked on a few months ago, it’s in a couple weeks, if you want to come?”

“I told you I was going to ask him—“ Mark was saying, exasperated, and Jaemin waved him off, nagging that he was taking forever. “It’s not a formal thing. The label actually rented out a club so the artist’s friends and stuff could listen and party. Production team can invite whoever.”

“I’m really happy you want me there,” Renjun told him, and he was. So, so happy.

Jaemin grinned at them, and Mark told Renjun that he wouldn’t have it any other way. It was astonishing just how special Mark could make him feel, despite dating two people, maintaining friendships since high school, working with all kinds of wildly talented people. Renjun was in his life all of a couple months. How could one person’s heart, he wondered, be this open and accepting and kind?

Renjun looked down at his fingers while he fought off that familiar feeling that he just wasn’t worthy of this, of them both. In the background of his doubt, Jaemin and Mark discussed how drunk they could get at the party and it still be appropriate for a work event, and what they’d end up wearing. 

He tuned back in when he heard Mark say, “Renjun hasn’t seen you go full slut mode, be gentle with him.”

“Hey now, I can take it.” Renjun was only kind of offended at this presumed lack of control. “I can call that and raise it, even.” Having a stylist best friend had many benefits, and he planned to deploy Donghyuck in ways he hadn’t thus far. 

“Okay, poker boy,” Mark replied, with his eyebrows high up on his forehead. “We’ll look forward to it.”

“What about you, Mark Lee? Gonna see you in something that isn’t oversized?” Jaemin of course knew every detail of Mark’s body, but Renjun was in the dark. He honest to god salivated, thinking about Mark in something fitted. For the second time tonight, Renjun swallowed down his desire.

Mark appeared shy; now Jaemin was the one with the suggestive looks. He clapped his hands together, startling both Renjun and Mark.

“Oh, this is going to be so fun! I wish the party was tomorrow instead.”

“Unfortunately, we all have to work tomorrow. Like boring adults who have to make a living and not just be hot and shake ass,” Renjun said.

“A crime, truly.” Jaemin hoisting himself up off of Renjun’s bed signaled to all of them that Renjun’s visitors should probably head home. 

Hugging them both good night felt right, so Renjun did that, wrapping his arms around Mark first and Jaemin second. He tried to kiss Jaemin chastely, for Mark’s sake, but Jaemin must have felt deprived to have spent so much time with him today without much opportunity at all to unleash his physical affection. 

Jaemin made sure Renjun would remember the taste of him as he tried to fall asleep that night.

Renjun wished he could have only focused on that. However, a day full of so many firsts caused him to toss and turn for more than an hour after he laid down under a comforter which smelled like an intoxicating cocktail of Jaemin and Mark’s colognes. 

He eventually resorted to picking up his phone.

park jisung would you ever be part of a throuple
or a polycule more generally i guess

hyung i don’t know what those words even mean tbh

three people in a relationship, not just two

and you just date each other? no one else?

maybe
maybe not
but two people date you and you date both of them, and those two people also both date each other

sounds stressful
why would you ask me that when i don’t date even one single person

okay let me ask you a different question
do you think it’s possible to love two people at once?
Fully
no one feeling inadequate?

you know that jaemin can
are you wondering if you can

i just want to know what you think

i think anything is possible in this universe, hyung
humans make up social rules and act like they’re divine or natural or something but i think that’s hubris. love is real, but how you get there and who you give it to, i don’t think there are strict rights and wrongs
not when we’re a tiny speck in one galaxy, amongst billions of other galaxies
if there’s only one way to live and love amongst all this life in the world, i think that’s kind of sad, tbh
just don’t look up compilations of an American show called Sister Wives
lol

that’s kind of beautiful, jisungie
i hadn’t thought about it like that
thank you for sharing your huge, sexy brain with me

shut up
go to sleep
try not to overthink it

pot, kettle, black, etc.

GOOD NIGHT

ily

🙄

ily2

| | |

A bigger-than-usual shop update meant that Renjun was kept pretty busy over the following week. There was so much to prepare: product photos, listings, shipping costs, organizing materials, printing labels, posting on all his socials. Mark offered to come over to his studio and help him pack orders when his own work finished up early one day, and Renjun collapsed into his arms as soon as Mark walked through the door. 

They sat at a long work table, creating an assembly line, as Mark called out the items in each order, Renjun grabbed the items from his shelves, and Mark organized them into an appropriately-sized box. 

“You work too hard,” Renjun told Mark, while he worked to unwrap a fresh pack of prints he’d use to restock an empty bin on his shelf. “Stupid for you to be here when you could be relaxing.”

“Free time is intimidating,” Mark explained. “And besides, this is repetitive in a satisfying way. It’d be different if I was here songwriting after leaving my songwriting job.”

“Well, I appreciate it. Even if I think you torture yourself.”

The sound of crinkling plastic stopped, and Renjun looked over his shoulder to see Mark giving him a pointed look. “Being with you is not torture, Renjun.”

“Even if we were swimming with sharks in here?”

“Yo, that sounds kind of dope, honestly.” Mark got back to packing.

“See! You like torture! Masochist Mark Lee.”

Mark laughed loud and clear, and Renjun felt all the weight of this update dissipate from his shoulders. 

He walked on air for the rest of the evening, so much so that he seriously wondered if working alone affected him more than he realized. Having even just one person in his office, even if Mark hadn’t been helping at all, increased his mood tenfold. 

Renjun was about to ask Yangyang if they could facetime during the work day sometimes to help combat the loneliness when his phone lit up with a notification from Xiaoting. With the assumption that she perhaps wanted to know what he was wearing to the release party, he clicked on her name with a smile. 

The paragraph which appeared on his screen was much more than that.

Renjun, I wanted to let you know personally that I broke up with Mark last night. He’s always going to put other people before himself, especially if it’s a partner, so I fear he won’t ever act on his feelings if he feels like I’m in the way. I know he wouldn’t put it like that, but he knows that I told him from the get go that I wasn’t interested in being with someone who was splitting their time any more than he already was. Even that was hard for me to wrap my head around at first, I mean, I want to be his everything. Just like I can’t give him what he needs, he can’t give me what I need, either. He’s a great guy. If you’re different from me, hear him out when he finally comes to his senses. I think you’d be great together. All three of you. Don’t worry, though, I didn’t mention you at all when I ended things. I just told him I was looking for something else and wished him nothing but the best

give my number to yangyang, if you haven’t already ;)

Renjun processed several things at once: 

1. Xiaoting thought Mark was into him
2. Mark hypothetically being into him was a dealbreaker for Xiaoting and he therefore felt panicked that it could be a dealbreaker for Jaemin, too
3. Mark chose to hang out with him today even though he must feel heart broken

What the fuck. 

He was now armed with too much information. Couldn’t talk to Jaemin about it without implying he (Xiaoting) thought Mark liked him romantically which was mortifying. Wouldn’t dare bring it up to Mark when he hadn’t thought to mention his breakup just hours earlier. Xiaoting sent that text as if she was handing Mark over to him, but Renjun sat on his couch, staring down at his phone, wondering if she wanted him dead.

Under the guise of consulting Donghyuck about his outfit for the upcoming release party, he invited his friend to hang out at his apartment after he got off work that evening. Donghyuck was perhaps one foot into the apartment before Renjun word-vomited Xiaoting’s text at him.

“Holy shit,” was his first response. He grabbed Renjun’s elbows and moved them over to the couch. Sitting down was probably a good idea. “You’re actually so sexy and funny and cute for bagging two dudes at once after not dating a single person since your high school sweetheart?”

“THIS IS NOT HELPING.” 

Donghyuck put his hands up, feigning innocence. Renjun knew after this many years of friendship that he was actually incapable of not being annoying. He’d die if he didn’t piss him off at least once a day. In this case, Renjun would punch him square in the jaw if he said one more thing which wasn’t clear and cogent advice.

“Okay, firstly, do you believe her?”

“Um,” Renjun tried to see past his rage. “I don’t think she’s lying to me, like I do think she really believed she’s helping Mark to pursue me, but neither of us are Mark himself so imagine how mortifying it would be if I decided to date them both and he was never into it in the first place.”

That wasn’t even one of Renjun’s main concerns before right this second. Now he felt spikes of anxiety throughout his chest. Donghyuck must have noticed that his breathing changed; he reached for Renjun’s hand and squeezed it gently. 

“Don’t underestimate your ability to pick up on vibes. Up until today, you thought Mark was in a relationship—well, two—and you probably interpreted the way he acted around you as just friendly, or whatever. When you’re with him at the release party, you can see if you get different vibes knowing he’s one, single, and two, his ex-girlfriend specifically broke up with him because she thought he wanted to date you .”

“Actually,” Renjun started to say. He put his face in his hands before continuing—took a moment just to breathe. “He came to my office today.”

“Okay?”

“Xiaoting said they broke up yesterday.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t invite him? Ask him to come over?”

“No. He texted me and asked if I wanted some company, said he could help me pack orders.”

“Damn,” was Donghyuck’s insightful response.

“Yeah.” Renjun started to bite at the skin next to his fingernails. “And he didn’t mention the break up to me. Didn’t seem any different from his normal self at all. I feel like I’m losing my mind, why did he do that?”

“Maybe he’s not conscious of it. He felt lonely without her and sought you out.” Donghyuck paused for a moment to soak in what he’d just said. “That’s crazy, Renjun, I agree with Xiaoting, I think he likes you, considers you off limits, won’t make a move in any real way, but wants you so bad it’s embarrassing.”

Renjun didn’t have the energy to push him off the couch. On a different day, he would have.

“I don’t know what to do,” he confessed. 

“The release party is meant to celebrate Mark’s work on that album, right? Don’t do anything until after that, in case it blows up in your face.”

Renjun groaned. Chenle’s realism was rubbing off on Donghyuck in the worst ways.

“After the party, talk to Jaemin. Tell him what Xiaoting texted you, and ask his advice. Communication is their kink, I think he’ll appreciate you telling him, and he knows Mark better than you, so he’ll be able to tell you what to do, or what not to do.”

That sounded surprisingly sensible. So much so, Renjun felt kind of silly that his panicked brain couldn’t generate it on its own. 

“Okay, okay.” He repeated the mantra to himself a few times before feeling calm enough to drink some water and fill his lungs fully with the air which felt robbed from him over the past two hours. 

“Lay down for a bit and let me work my magic,” Donghyuck told him, and Renjun did.

So before Donghyuck left for the night, Renjun had a hybrid outfit picked out for the release party—a couple pieces from his closet and a few things Donghyuck brought with him; some smokey makeup Renjun could use as long as he promised to use one time use, disposable applicators to keep his makeup kit sanitized; and, because Donghyuck must have slipped into the kitchen once the come-down of Renjun’s anxiety attack lulled him into a quick nap, a hot bowl of soup to eat for dinner. 

His friend kissed him on the cheek, knowing that Renjun would only let him do that if he was this vulnerable, and assured him once more that it would be okay.

Renjun wanted nothing more than for Donghyuck to be right.

| | |

No experience he had of clubbing with his college friends could compare to what he walked into for the release party. He had to give his name to a bouncer at the door, who checked him off of some list of those who were invited. There was a legit VIP section, a long bar with more than one bartender. He had to specify what kind of liquor to put into his mixed drink instead of just automatically being given what was cheapest. 

The music was loud—the album playing on repeat—and the lights were low, with strobes of color circulating down on the dance floor. 

Renjun uber’d over, knowing he was going to be drinking, so he had to find Jaemin and Mark in the groups of people dancing and talking in every corner of the club. He felt confident, walking in long strides, his heeled boots clanking on the hardwood floor. Donghyuck put him in bell-bottom jeans which clung to his ass and thighs before flaring out well past his knees. His shirt was silky, a v-neck tucked into his jeans, with a long, pearled necklace repurposed as a belt. Renjun’s eyes popped, he knew they did. He’d layered light and dark gray eyeshadows before topping his lids with silver glitter. 

Shoving down that his head was still scrambled beyond belief, Renjun vowed that tonight, no one was going to see him sweat. He was going to dance and drink and have fun, and figure out everything else after.

It took him long enough to find Jaemin and Mark that he’d already downed half of his drink when his eyes landed on what he knew to be the back of Mark’s head, and what he was newly learning was Mark’s ass . Yes, he was wearing fitted clothes tonight. Unable to care about its impact on anyone trying to make their way through the crowd, Renjun stopped in his tracks, once he realized the full scene in front of him. 

Jaemin was facing Mark, with his back against one of the many rectangular pillars on the perimeter of the dance floor. His shirt was so low-cut that Renjun could see the clear shape of his pecs. Like a scene in a movie, Mark’s right arm supported his weight just above Jaemin’s head. He leaned into Jaemin’s face, talking and laughing. Renjun watched as Jaemin moved forward as if he was whispering into Mark’s ear. He cupped his hand to amplify the sound of his voice, but from this angle, Renjun could see what Jaemin was actually doing: concealing his mouth from onlookers as he kissed Mark from his ear, to his cheek, to his lips. Mark stepped in closer rather than leaning away, despite how much he despised PDA. Their bodies touched from their lips to their toes, and Renjun could see Mark’s tongue dip into Jaemin’s mouth. Never once had Renjun seen them like this together. He downed the rest of his drink, right there rooted in this one spot, and he handed off the glass to a member of the club staff who patrolled the floor with a serving tray. 

The alcohol burned through Renjun’s chest. He focused on that feeling—heat, warmth, desire—as he forced his feet to move toward them. 

Mark and Jaemin only just parted when Renjun slid up to them. He snaked his arm up Mark’s back, around Jaemin’s waist. 

“CUTIE,” Jaemin yelled. He pulled Renjun in between him and Mark in order to hug Renjun properly. 

No sooner was he easing back from that embrace was Mark spinning him so his back was to Jaemin. Mark hugged him, too, with his hands around Renjun’s waist. He whispered into Renjun’s ear, “Thank you for coming tonight.”

The gratitude was so clear in Mark’s voice Renjun almost felt the urge to cry. His senses were going to be assaulted for the entire night, between the music, the lights, the alcohol, his boyfriend, and his boyfriend. He had to keep it together, even if he was only hanging on by a thread, so Mark Lee had fun.

Jaemin suggested they go dance, and Renjun wasn’t going to miss that opportunity. 

If seeing Mark and Jaemin make out was overwhelming, seeing them grind against each other to the beat of a sensual song made him want to astral project. He imagined that they must have had some amount of confidence in the confidentiality capable of this guest list, to be dancing like that, in front of this many people. 

Renjun moved his body next to them for a while, his heart pumping wildly in the way only exerting yourself to loud music could. When the song changed to something faster, Jaemin grabbed him, twirled Renjun such that he felt Mark on his back, his hands on Renjun’s hips, with Jaemin right in front of him. Jaemin brought his hands to hold either side of Renjun’s neck, an anchor for the way he rolled his hips against Renjun’s body. For his part, Renjun did what felt natural. Reaching back with one arm, he hooked his hand around the back of Mark’s head to tangle his fingers in his hair. With the other, he held onto Jaemin’s bicep. 

That move was maybe his biggest mistake. Renjun’s weight shifted back against Mark’s chest; Jaemin stepped closer to ensure he lost no contact with Renjun’s body. Mark breathed heavy against Renjun’s ear. 

Minutes went by. Mark used his grip on Renjun’s waist to guide Renjun’s ass against him. Jaemin moved his hands from Renjun’s neck to his chin, to force his eyes onto Jaemin’s mouth. He didn’t even try to hide it this time. Uncaring, Jaemin brought their lips together. As soon as Renjun’s tongue glided along Jaemin’s, he felt Mark’s teeth on the shell of his ear. Scraping. 

The rhythm of their dancing faltered then. Renjun’s moves were erratic, grinding back into where he knew Mark’s dick to be, pulling Jaemin as close as humanly possible in order to get a handful of his ass in each palm. Closing his eyes, Renjun swore he could hear Jaemin kissing Mark above his head. The sounds of their lips and tongues made him so badly wish he could turn his head, watch closely. Slide his tongue into Mark’s mouth, too. 

It was the music cutting to a slow song which broke Renjun of the spell. 

He opened his eyes, dazed, to see Jaemin evaluating his reaction carefully. 

“I’m going to—I need some air,” he choked out. Both of their hands were off him immediately. 

Renjun stumbled out onto the sidewalk outside of the club. He gulped the cool night into his lungs, tried to think coherently for just one second. 

The one thought which broke into the alcohol haze of his mind: I want to fuck them both right this instant.

He turned on his heels, ready to march back inside and maybe blurt that out exactly, but Mark and Jaemin were coming out past the bouncer and joining him at the side of the building.

“Are you okay?” Mark asked first. “I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking, I think I’ve lost my fucking mind, I should have—“

Renjun caught him off by kissing him, square on the mouth. 

He heard Jaemin gasp at his right, so Renjun regretfully pulled back, just long enough to ask, “Are you okay with this?”

Jaemin nodded silently.

Mark was the one to grab Renjun’s jaw and pull him back into his mouth. In the way he bit at Renjun’s lips, lapped at his tongue, Mark’s hunger was evident. Xiaoting was right. Of course she was. Mark wanted him, clear as day. 

When they parted to breathe, none of them said a word. Mark brought the back of his hand to his lips, in shock. Renjun looked at Jaemin, terrified.

“We should talk about this,” Jaemin said eventually. That was the Jaemin he knew. Renjun felt his heart swell with relief. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Renjun repeated.

Mark still hadn’t said anything.

“I didn’t even ask you,” Renjun said, touching Mark’s cheek tenderly. In the distance, a car honked. “Are you okay with this? I can leave right now, and we can just talk tomorrow.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Mark replied, and Jaemin laughed. 

Renjun wasn’t as good as they were. He probably wouldn’t have left, even if Mark asked him to. 

Thank goodness he didn’t. 

| | |

Every part of Renjun’s body ached the next morning:

1. Mark had fucked him long and slow, and his cock was unfairly huge
2. The messy blowjob he gave Jaemin stretched the corners of his mouth
3. He was too close to 30 to get spit roasted after a night of dancing and not have his lower back feel as if it was going to dislodge itself from the rest of him

Waking up in Mark and Jaemin’s bed made him ache, too, but in a different way. He didn’t know it was possible to feel this happy. Jaemin’s leg hooked over his lip. Mark’s arm around his waist. This was bliss. Contentment. Love.

They did talk about it. After showering, eating breakfast, and moving to sit out on the porch. 

“Let me start,” Renjun insisted. “Here’s the only thing I really need to know: on our first date, Jaemin, you told me that you two don’t date the same person and it’s not really your thing. I don’t want you to try something like that if you don’t think it’ll work and we’ll all get hurt.”

“I told you that Mark has historically dated girls while we’ve been together. It wasn’t something we even had to think about,” Jaemin explained.

If this was going to work, Renjun had to adapt to the way they communicated with each other: “Now that you have to think about it, how do you feel?” 

Mark spoke next. “I’m worried that I’ll still feel a connection with someone else outside of this,” he gestured between the three of them, “and it’ll hurt you, Renjun.”

Renjun of course thought about Xiaoting’s text. That’s exactly what had just happened to him, though Mark didn’t know that Renjun knew that. He was so vulnerable, to talk to him about a heartbreak which must have felt fresh. Renjun felt compelled to get up, sit himself in Mark’s lap. He felt entitled to every part of Mark’s body, now. 

“I can’t say for sure how I’d feel,” he told Mark honestly. “All I can promise you is that the idea of either of you dating other people doesn’t make me anxious, as long as you’re still with me, and we go on dates, and have sex, and hang out on your couch. That’s what I expect. What you do outside of that, as long as you’re meeting my needs, I don’t really care about.”

Six months ago, Renjun would have never dreamed of having this conversation. Not even his troublesome imagination could have conjured this up. 

“Well, you can care about it,” Jaemin added. “Just like we have now, we can always renegotiate, at any time.”

Renjun thought about that. “So if we want something different from what we’re currently doing, we talk about it.” He looked at Mark. Wanted to make sure he heard that, didn’t want Mark to ever be in the same situation he had with Xiaoting, where he deprived himself of something that so clearly made him happy. 

And that was Renjun. Being with Renjun was what he wanted. Renjun still couldn’t believe it. 

Mark and Jaemin nodded. Renjun felt Mark squeeze him and kiss his cheek.

“Thank you,” Mark said. “For being you.”

Renjun remembered Jaemin saying the exact same thing to him, months ago. He looked over and saw the love in Jaemin’s eyes. Renjun made grabby hands at his boyfriend—one of his boyfriends. Jaemin grinned before coming over. Renjun didn’t really know what he’d actually been asking for, but what Jaemin did was pick him up.

Renjun yelled, wrapped his legs around Jaemin’s waist instinctively. 

“Let’s go back to bed,” Jaemin demanded. “Mark, grab the spare lube from the bathroom.”

“Yo, you’re going to break him,” Mark replied, but Renjun could see him turn into the bathroom.

“Jokes on you,” Jaemin yelled down as he impressively climbed the stairs with Renjun still in his arms. “I’m fucking you, Mark Lee. Renjun’s going to watch.”

“Holy shit,” Renjun breathed out. Jaemin squeezed his ass. “Jaemin afternoon time experience?”

“Jaemin and Mark post-becoming-official-with-the-same-hot-boyfriend morning-after spectacular.”

“Workshop that with your team,” Mark replied, coming into the bedroom, where Jaemin gently dropped Renjun onto the bed. 

“Come here and workshop that ass with my dick.”

Mark turned to him. “Renjun, I think we broke him?”

Renjun laughed with his whole body, full of so, so much love.

\\\

Notes:

this was really fun to work on, hehe. hope you enjoyed~

twitter, if you’d like to be mutuals