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At three a.m. on a Thursday, Jaemin tries to break down Donghyuck’s door.
Before Donghyuck can even finish pulling his shirt back over his head, Jaemin’s already inside the living room. The only dead giveaway that it’s Jaemin and not an opportunistic serial killer getting weirdly comfortable on his couch is the pair of My Melody pajama pants hanging off his hips.
A shrill scream dies out in Donghyuck’s throat at the sight. “What the fuck? How the fuck did you get in?”
Jaemin throws his arm over his eyes in a swoon, oblivious to Donghyuck’s plight. “Jeno gave me a spare, remember?”
“Oh my god.” He rubs harshly at his chest, trying to regulate his frazzled nervous system. “Why are you even here? Jeno’s still at Chenle’s house.”
“I know. I’m not here for Jeno, I’m here for you.”
Donghyuck blinks. “If you’re gonna kill me, can we like, reschedule to the weekend? I have rehearsal tomorrow.”
“No, Hyuck,” Jaemin groans. He sits up and pulls his knees into his chest. “This is serious. Something happened. I need to talk to you.”
Truthfully, Jaemin looks miserable. The insane look in his eyes is a little more pronounced than usual, made far worse by deep purple eye bags. His sweatshirt has a massive hole in the underarm, and he’s only wearing one sock, like he threw on the first things in sight in his rush to get here.
“Okay, let’s talk,” Donghyuck says slowly. “Do you want hot chocolate?” Jaemin nods, lips jutting forward in a cute pout. “So. What’s wrong?”
He takes his time responding—it must be really serious, then. The sounds of Donghyuck measuring out milk and poking around the cabinets for marshmallows fill the silence of his and Jeno’s apartment.
Jaemin is quiet when he finally says, “I think I’m in love with Renjun.”
Donghyuck’s heart drops. He must have misheard him over the whir of the microwave. “Come again?”
“I said, I think I’m in love with—”
“That’s what I thought you said,” Donghyuck shakes his head. “Like, for real, or is this some kind of joke?”
“I don’t know, maybe? I think it’s real, but—fuck.” Jaemin drags a hand over his face. “I’m freaking out. I don’t know what to do.”
“Wait, wait, wait. Just…start from the beginning. Why do you think that?”
Jaemin swallows, once again unsure.
“So you know how I asked you to do the vocals for my composition project but you were busy this week? Well, I ended up asking Renjun to fill in, so we met up at one of the studios today. We were there all night and it was so much fun—” he starts to ramble, like every sentence is being forcibly extracted from his chest. There’s a faraway look in his eyes that only breaks so he can blink up at Donghyuck as he approaches with a steaming mug in hand. “Oh, thank you. Okay, wait. Where was I? Oh, yeah—the song. So we were working on the lyrics, and it was going really well, and everything was coming together, and then we started recording, but like, when Renjun sings, it’s like…” Jaemin shivers. “I felt something, Donghyuck.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah.”
Donghyuck plops down next to him on the couch. “Okay, I believe you, but let’s actually talk about this. Are you sure you weren’t just tired?”
“I mean, I am, but there’s no way I hallucinated getting butterflies over Renjun. It was too visceral.” Jaemin frowns into his mug. “He just looked so pretty and sweet and I…ugh. I couldn’t even look at him by the time we left.”
“Well, you just said you’ve been up all night in close proximity with him. I think it’s possible that your brain could just be getting confused, right?” Jaemin tilts his head in contemplation. “He’s also dating Mark, so it’s not like he was giving you any signals. Besides, he’s not even your type.”
That was the wrong thing to say, if the way Jaemin’s voice squeaks on his next words is any indication. “How would you know that? I don’t even know what my type is! What if it is Renjun?” He moves to bury his head in his hands, but remembers that he’s holding a mug and sets it neatly down on a coaster first. “Oh my god. I don’t want to compete with Mark.”
“Okay, that’s so not the point. Sorry, I shouldn’t have even brought it up,” Donghyuck says, trying to pry Jaemin’s arms away from his face. But Jaemin resists, and he’s a lot stronger than Donghyuck, so it’s a struggle that lasts a few long minutes. When he finally manages, Jaemin is pouting again. Donghyuck succumbs to his urge to pat his cheek. He’s kind of cute when he’s being crazy. “Look, Jaemin, I really don’t think you’re in love with Renjun. You guys were just there alone, and it was late, and you’ve been stressed about your project. When you wake up tomorrow, you’ll realize this was all just some weird—” Donghyuck gestures wildly, “—fluke.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right. I think I’m just sleep deprived.”
“Probably. Let’s take a few deep breaths together, okay?”
“Okay.”
Donghyuck tries to lead with an exaggerated inhale, but Jaemin stays still like he can’t quite compute directions right now, the insane look in his eye now glazed over into something not entirely here. That leaves Donghyuck no choice but to grab Jaemin by the shoulders until he’s taking deep breaths and comes back into his body again.
“There. That better?”
“Yeah,” Jaemin exhales. He takes another slow sip of his hot chocolate. When he speaks again, it’s in that calm lilt that Donghyuck finds comforting. “Definitely better. I just—I’ve always had a hard time bottling things up. Because if I wake up tomorrow and this is still real, it’s gonna have to come out of me somehow, whether I like it or not.”
“So, what, you’re gonna jerk off to the thought of him?” Donghyuck wrinkles his nose. “I guess that doesn’t really hurt anyone…”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Jaemin rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling for the first time all night. “I just have to find some way to express my feelings. Or, like, do something cathartic so I can move on, otherwise I’ll get stress hives.” He turns gravely serious. “Should I go bald?”
Donghyuck opens his mouth, then closes it. “Let’s maybe wait and see how you feel tomorrow. We can think of something cathartic if it gets to that point. You should probably sleep on this.”
“Okay, yeah,” he says. A pause in the conversation turns a sleepy Jaemin uncharacteristically shy, curling into himself. Definitely really cute. This time, Donghyuck links his hands in his lap to keep from straightening out Jaemin’s hair, unkempt from all of his agitated tugging. “Could I…stay here? Maybe?”
“Of course you can stay. I wouldn’t kick you out on the streets while you’re having a crisis,” Donghyuck laughs. “You can take Jeno’s bed. I won’t tell.”
“Thanks,” Jaemin smiles with all his teeth. He seems to remember something and shoots up to face Donghyuck head-on. “Wait! How was your date tonight with…what’s his face? Tae…hyun? Taehoon? Tae—”
“Taehee,” Donghyuck corrects.
“Ah. Sorry.”
“It's whatever. The date was fine, I guess? He’s a little boring.” Donghyuck shrugs. “Actually, he kind of looks like you.”
“Huh,” Jaemin squints. “But I’m hotter and way more interesting, right?”
“Will it make you feel better if I say yes?”
He smirks something practiced and sleazy. “For sure.”
“Then okay,” Donghyuck acquiesces.
“Say the whole thing.”
“Nah.”
“Please,” Jaemin whines and bats his long eyelashes. “Pretty please. I need this, Donghyuckie. I’m so distraught. Only you can fix me.”
It takes a second, but Donghyuck begrudgingly decides he’ll indulge Jaemin this once; it’s the least he can do.
“Ugh, fine,” he groans. And then he wraps himself around Jaemin’s side. “Oh Jaeminnie, you’re just so hot, and funny, and interesting…” Donghyuck murmurs, trailing his fingers lightly up his broad chest, “Let me take your mind off Renjun. How does that sound, hmm?”
Jaemin is supposed to laugh and shove him off—that’s usually how these interactions go. But instead, he leans in, so close, so sudden. Close enough that Donghyuck gets a whiff of bergamot and pear lingering on his skin. Close enough that the tips of their noses brush, and then Donghyuck is the one jumping back like he’s been burned.
“Dude!”
“My bad, that was kind of working on me,” Jaemin grins shamelessly.
Donghyuck swats at him, face feeling hot. “You’re a whore.”
“Says the guy who abandoned me tonight for my less attractive lookalike. When you think about it, this is actually all your fault,” Jaemin grumbles, indignant, but his lips are quirked. “Fucking Taehee. I hope it was worth it.”
Donghyuck crosses his arms. “I’ll kick you out.”
Jaemin starts groveling again, and Donghyuck decides it’s probably time for bed. They have a nine a.m. tomorrow, after all. He decides to be a good friend to Jeno and grabs the spare sheets and comforter from the hall closet, helps Jaemin into the room when he dozes off on the couch and is too exhausted to move.
His eyes have slipped shut by the time Donghyuck wrestles the blanket over his body. “Night, Duckie,” he mumbles.
Donghyuck smiles despite himself. “Goodnight, Jaem.”
In the morning, they rush over to Jaemin’s apartment in West Harlem and back to campus just in time for music theory. Somehow, running on only a few hours of sleep, Jaemin still manages to answer every question thrown at them with ease. All that jazz piano is paying off, Donghyuck guesses, but it doesn’t make it any less annoying.
Jaemin drags him to a fancy café down the street from the music school afterwards. Donghyuck tries not to fall asleep in his hard metal seat while they wait for their drinks, the mellow alternative music settling the two of them into a quiet lull.
When Donghyuck gets back from the counter, he nearly drops both coffees at the sight of Renjun and Mark crowding either side of Jaemin, his face twisted up in an uncomfortable smile. Renjun’s head rests on Jaemin’s shoulder while Mark has their arms linked, and if Donghyuck didn’t know any better, he’d think they were trying to sweet-talk Jaemin into being their third.
“Yo, Donghyuck! You’re here, too?” Mark gets up to clasp their hands and pull him into a side hug.
“Yeah, dude. We just got out of class,” Donghyuck says, shooting a worried look at Jaemin as he plops down across from the three of them. Their fingers brush when he slides Jaemin’s drink over. “What are you lovebirds up to?”
“I wanted a snack before studio,” Renjun says, reaching across the table to give Mark a bite of his spinach feta danish.
He offers it to Jaemin next, blinking at him expectantly. For just a second too long, Jaemin stares at the danish like it’s going to bite him back before he remembers himself. The grin Renjun gives him in return is sickeningly sweet and completely oblivious.
“Oh, Jaem!” Mark exclaims with his mouth full. “Junnie was telling me about the song you guys were working on last night. How’s it looking?”
Panic flashes in Jaemin’s eyes, and then he blurts out, “I deleted the file.”
“What?” Renjun sits up suddenly, chair rocking violently in place.
“Bro, seriously?” Mark gapes.
“Did I say…?” Jaemin sounds just as startled, and then he’s flashing all of his teeth, lips pulled into a terrifying imitation of amusement. “Oh my god, no! I didn’t delete our file. I deleted some other file. Ha, that’d be crazy right? What a hilarious mix-up. It’s safe and sound on my, um, hard drive.”
Donghyuck watches all of this with his mouth hanging open. Maybe Jaemin is a lost cause after all.
Renjun furrows his eyebrows. “Okay…”
“Jaemin, dude, are you good? You’ve been acting kinda wonky since we got here—“
“—He’s only wonky ‘cause we had an early morning study session before theory today,” Donghyuck jumps in. Jaemin looks grateful for the lifeline. “This guy needs his coffee to function, amiright?” He jabs his thumb in Jaemin’s direction.
“Eugh, sounds rough,” Mark says, apparently convinced. He claps Jaemin on the back so hard that he coughs. “Get some rest, bud.”
“Yeah, don’t work yourself too hard. The song’s great,” Renjun reassures, but he’s eyeing Jaemin like he can tell something’s up. He stands and runs a hand through two-toned, brown and blonde hair. “We should probably get going. Mark has a meeting soon. Send me the final version when you get a chance, okay?” Jaemin nods weakly. “Bye, Minnie. See you later, Hyuck.”
“Bye guys,” Donghyuck waves them off. As soon as the door shuts behind them, he gives Jaemin a bewildered look. “What the fuck was that? Jeez, Jaemin, we need to work on your lying skills.”
Jaemin puts his head in his hands and groans. His coffee sits there untouched. “Was it really that bad?”
“I’ve never seen you act so crazy,” Donghyuck shakes his head in awe. “It’s kind of cute.”
Jaemin peeks through his fingers. “Okay, I don’t have time to flirt with you, Donghyuck.”
“I’m sorry, you’re just like, really terrible at this—”
“Donghyuck!”
“Sorry, sorry,” he winces. “Okay, so you might actually be in love with him. I mean, that was a little much, even for you.”
“Oh my god,” Jaemin groans again, more guttural this time. “This is fucking me up so bad. I’ve never malfunctioned like that before! What am I supposed to do?”
Donghyuck wraps his fingers around Jaemin’s wrist, giving it a soft squeeze. “I’m not sure if there’s anything you can do. I know it kinda sucks. But if this is real, it’ll pass eventually. Just give it some time.” Jaemin takes a sullen sip of his drink in lieu of a response. Donghyuck’s heart pangs, the tiniest bit. He hopes this is all just a fluke. “I think I know what’ll help clear your head a little. You don’t have class on Fridays, right?”
“No,” Jaemin mumbles into his cup.
“Perfect. Meet me at my apartment tomorrow at noon.”
Jeno lets Jaemin in five minutes to noon, only back from Chenle’s place to grab some more clothes before the weekend. He looks curiously between Jaemin, dressed in an oversized cardigan and slacks, and Donghyuck, wearing his favorite brown leather jacket and a pair of baggy jeans. “Is this a date?”
“No,” Donghyuck scowls. “I’m helping Jaemin soul search in the city.”
Jaemin laughs, loud and bright. “Is that what we’re calling it?”
“You wanna tell him the full story? Be my guest.”
“Nope, I’m good.” Jaemin nods solemnly, turning to Jeno. “I desperately need his help.”
Jeno hums, disbelieving but too deep in a Chenle-induced stupor to really care. “Cool. Have fun, I think.”
“You too. Tell Lele I said hi,” Donghyuck smirks. Jeno rolls his eyes and disappears back into his room, thankfully unassuming of the unauthorized use of his bed. Good to know his and Jaemin’s efforts paid off yesterday.
“So, what are we doing today? Why’d you ask me to get dressed up?”
“Well for one, dressing nice always makes me feel better. And two, we’re hitting up Brooklyn and Queens,” Donghyuck beams. “I think the fresh air will help you out. And the distance. It’ll be good to get out of the neighborhood for a bit.”
Jaemin returns his smile. “That sounds fun. Let’s go!”
They’ll take the A train to the High St Station, their first stop in DUMBO. It takes about an hour. Jaemin offers up an earbud to Donghyuck, and they alternate listening to pop and R&B and the occasional musical number as the city whizzes above and past them.
“I kinda forgot this was a tourist spot,” Jaemin says, looking around at the throngs of people posing in front of the Manhattan Bridge rising between the buildings of Washington St. The November air is crisp, winding swiftly through the neighborhood.
“You’ve been here, right?” Donghyuck asks, tucking his hands in his pockets while they wait for the perfect photo spot they scouted out to become a little less crowded.
“It’s been a while. I always forget how huge the city is outside of campus.”
“Yeah, it’s so easy to get caught up in a bubble at school,” Donghyuck says. The trees down by the park rustle gently, leaves cascading to the ground in heaps of vivid yellow and orange and red. “There’s a whole world out here. So much more to do and see than hole up in the practice rooms all day.”
Jaemin hums, appreciative. “I need to start actually living.”
“Well, today’s a start, I hope,” Donghyuck beams. He pushes Jaemin forward when the group of undergrad girls finally walks off. “Get over there. Let me take some pictures of you.”
Jaemin lets Donghyuck take as many photos as he wants, even handing over his precious digital camera until it’s Donghyuck’s turn to pose. They’re kind of hogging the spot, but Donghyuck can’t bring himself to care with the image of Jaemin’s blinding smile burned into the back of his eyelids.
“This one’s my favorite,” Jaemin says some twenty minutes later, clicking over to a picture of Donghyuck. He’s leaning against a brick wall and looking off to the side. Effortless, cool, and just the right amount off-guard, like he just happened upon a famous bridge but doesn’t really give a shit that it’s there—at least that’s how Jaemin explains it later that night. “You look hot and mysterious.”
“It’s all thanks to you,” Donghyuck says, fighting off a blush. “Off to the next spot!”
They stroll by Pebble Beach and linger on the Fulton Ferry Landing overlooking the East River, shards of sunlight glistening on the water’s surface as it rushes by. They grab Thai food from a stall for lunch, and Donghyuck insists on eating only after finding the perfect bench with the perfect view, so it’s up through Brooklyn Heights and past endless rows of brownstones until they settle on a spot off Pierrepont Playground, Manhattan sprawling wide before them against a cloudless, pure blue sky.
Jaemin tells Donghyuck horror stories from his undergrad at NYU: chlamydia ripping through the piano department, his gay freshman year friend group blowing up after everyone slept with each other, when Jisung page-turned for him during a recital and accidentally pulled the sheet music off the stand within the first minute of a Chopin etude.
Donghyuck laughs so hard his stomach cramps, and he realizes how much fun it is to just talk with Jaemin like this. He’s almost grateful for Renjun, if he’s the reason that Donghyuck gets to see a side of Jaemin he hadn’t fully realized was there.
Their next stop is in Flushing for a fall-themed pop-up market at a boba shop that Donghyuck found online last night. They chat with the local vendors with kitschy trinkets and handmade goods on display, Donghyuck sipping on his taro milk tea while Jaemin sucks down a lychee slushie.
Jaemin buys a pricey cream-colored knit scarf and immediately wraps it around his neck. Donghyuck finds a Shinchan graphic tee that’s a few sizes too big, but he buys it anyway. Jaemin leads them to an arcade he used to frequent in high school, and they spend way too much time and money on the claw machines.
By a random stroke of luck, at the last machine and on what Donghyuck swore was his final try, a giant Pikachu somehow gets caught in the claw’s delicate grasp and falls right into the box.
“Fuck yeah!” Jaemin yells loud enough to pierce through the clashing and clanging of the other arcade games. He picks Donghyuck up and spins him around, and Donghyuck feels dizzy under the full force of his enthusiasm, his firm grip. Jaemin doesn’t step back completely, either, clutching Pikachu close between them. “We’re sharing custody, by the way. This was a joint effort.”
“Obviously,” Donghyuck says, ears burning. He busies himself with running a loving hand over Pikachu’s ears. “He deserves to have a father in his life.”
“Glad you agree,” Jaemin says. He insists on taking a picture of Donghyuck and their son in front of the machine before they leave. Donghyuck presses his cheek to Pikachu’s, all of his poor plushie siblings staring at them longingly from inside their glass cage. “So cute,” he says like it’s nothing, linking their arms as they head off to the next place.
Donghyuck takes them to the New World Mall because there’s a Uyghur food stall that Mark’s been recommending to them for the past year. He wants to try everything, so they get beef samsa, lamb kabobs, and fried rice noodles. Jaemin taps his card before Donghyuck can even dig his own out of his pocket, and as they crowd around a tiny table, he has the fleeting thought that all of this kind of feels like a date.
An attractive man laughing at all of Donghyuck’s jokes like they’re the funniest he’s ever heard, paying for his food, letting him have the last kabob because they were his favorite. It’s only a little bit disappointing that this is meant to be a distraction. He’s having fun, at least, and it seems that Jaemin is too, which is all that really matters.
On the train ride back, Jaemin leans his head on Donghyuck’s shoulder. Donghyuck looks down at the curve of his eyelashes where they brush against his cheekbones, the straight line of his nose, the pale pink of his mouth. Something unwelcome twists in his gut.
It’ll pass eventually, he thinks to himself, and resolves to stare out of the window until they get to Manhattan.
Jaemin offers to walk Donghyuck home first. A proper chill has settled over the city; Donghyuck buries his face in the collar of his jacket as they wait at a crosswalk. There’s a flash of white and then Jaemin is draping his new scarf around him.
“Aren’t you going to be cold?” Donghyuck blinks dumbly. Their height difference feels more pronounced now, sleek black boots giving Jaemin an additional inch over him. Dark hair falls over his eyes as he carefully loops the ends of the scarf together, snug and cozy.
“No. I’m the warmest I’ve ever been,” Jaemin says, the tip of his nose cherry red all the while. Donghyuck isn’t sure what to make of it.
“If you say so,” he squints. “Thank you.”
They walk in silence until they reach the building’s front doors. There’s another prolonged quiet, tinted with reluctance. Eventually, Jaemin breaks it first to say, “Thanks for distracting me today. You’re a really good friend.”
“Yeah, of course,” Donghyuck says, a little breathless. From the cold, maybe. Or more likely the small smile playing on Jaemin’s lips, staring at Donghyuck like there’s a chance none of this is about Renjun at all. “Oh! Your scarf.”
Jaemin’s hand lands on his wrist before he can take it off. “It's nice on you. Just give it back to me next time. I’m sure we’ll see each other very soon.”
“Right, okay,” Donghyuck nods. He hands over Pikachu, and it’s Jaemin’s turn to be confused, big brown eyes soft and rounded. So casually handsome that it hurts. “Call it a fair trade. Keep him warm tonight.”
“Will do,” Jaemin grins, and just stands there.
“Bye, Jaemin,” he says, before he can lose composure.
“Goodnight, Donghyuck.”
The low rumble of Jaemin’s voice echoes in his ears until he’s in bed an hour later, scrolling through his phone. There’s a new Instagram story from Jaemin, a collage of all the pictures from today. Smack dab in the middle is the photo of Donghyuck with the Pikachu plushie, accompanied by a series of multi-colored heart emojis. He stares at it, unsure if he should be feeling ecstatic or disappointed or a mix of both.
He texts Jaemin.
donghyuck
posting me on your story to make renjun jealous?
jaemin
no
but now that you mention it…
donghyuck
.
jaemin
just kidding
i had so much fun today
we should do this again sometime
donghyuck
for sure
hopefully next time you’re not in love with renjun
jaemin
hmm yeah
chances are high since you’ve been so helpful
i really appreciate it donghyuck
donghyuck
happy to help anytime
make sure to take care of pikachu ok?
jaemin
donghyuck
WTF
why are you naked
and what does this have to do with pikachu
if you’re jerking off please at least move our son to a different room first
jaemin
oh my bad i just realized chu’s not even in the pic
donghyuck
i can’t stand you.
jaemin
it’s called skin to skin contact okay
we miss you
donghyuck
yeah whatever
goodnight jaemin
jaemin
jaemin loved an image
goodnight cutie
Donghyuck doesn’t see Jaemin for the rest of the weekend, but they text about random things like Pikachu and Jaemin’s cats, the new protein shake recipe Jaemin’s trying out, Donghyuck’s rewatch of Twenty-Five Twenty-One and how much he’s crying this time around. He finds himself smiling like an idiot and checking his phone more often than not—it feels new, somehow, even though Jaemin’s been his friend for two years, and for the first time in his life, Donghyuck can’t wait for Monday to roll around so he can see Jaemin between classes.
Monday afternoon, he’s in a practice room running through a jazz standard before his weekly vocal lesson when the door swings open, and in steps Jaemin.
“Hi,” Donghyuck says, perking up involuntarily. Jaemin’s wearing a pink sweater and jeans, backpack hanging off one shoulder, the kind of guy Donghyuck would’ve been head over heels for in undergrad.
“Hey. Are you busy?”
“No,” he lies. Practice can wait; hopefully, his professor cuts him some slack just this once. “What’s up?”
Jaemin scoots onto the piano bench next to him. “It’s Renjun again.”
“Oh.” Donghyuck tries not to let his disappointment show. He shouldn’t be surprised, and yet. “What happened this time?”
“I just saw him in the performance library. We were alone and I got really nervous,” Jaemin says, eyes scanning Donghyuck’s face like he’s gauging his reaction. “I feel like he could see right through me.”
“I’m sure you’re just overthinking,” Donghyuck offers.
“I don’t know. My heart feels weird when I’m around him,” Jaemin complains, shoulders brushing as he presses in closer, resolving to plead. His frown is almost exaggerated; Donghyuck gets distracted by the plush shape of his bottom lip. “Help me? Please? I want this to be over.”
“Fine,” he blurts. He’s not even sure what he’s agreeing to. “I’ll…come up with something. Come by my place when you’re done with class.”
“Okay. I’m counting on you.” Jaemin tucks a dark strand behind his ear, and suddenly, Donghyuck is struck with an idea that’s sure to end this once and for all.
“Good,” he grins, “because I know exactly what’ll fix you.”
Donghyuck looks in the mirror. A beautiful girl with two-toned, brown and blonde hair stares back at him.
For some unknown reason, Chenle had this wig lying in a miscellaneous box deep within the recesses of his bed. For some unknown reason, he agreed to let Donghyuck borrow it, no questions asked.
An hour later, Donghyuck no longer resembles himself—he’s a cute girl that looks near enough to Renjun that it’s a little uncanny, especially when he mimics the death glare that Renjun wears like a badge of honor. He finds a black cashmere sweater that’s almost an exact copy of one of Renjun’s favorites, and then the look is complete.
Jaemin has no idea what’s about to hit him.
“What the actual fuck,” is all he says when Donghyuck answers the doorbell.
“Hi, Jaemin,” Donghyuck replies in his best imitation of Renjun’s light timbre.
Jaemin gives him a baffled look, frozen in place. “Why are you dressed like Renjun?”
He passes over a note that says I’m pretending to be Renjun for your sake so just go with it.
Jaemin barks out a disbelieving laugh. “Seriously, Donghyuck, there’s no way this is gonna work.”
Donghyuck prepared for this. He hands over another note: Yes it will. It’s called aversion therapy and I saw it in a TV show. TRUST ME.
He rubs at his neck before finally shrugging like he’s at his wits’ end. Clearly, Donghyuck is too. “Okay, sure, whatever.”
Donghyuck gets back into character and scowls. “Why are you standing there like an idiot? Come inside or I’m shutting the door.”
“Jeez, sorry,” Jaemin huffs. He lingers in the living room, unsure, before settling on the couch. Donghyuck plops down right next to him, arms crossed.
“So why are you here?” Donghyuck asks impatiently.
Jaemin raises his eyebrows. The last note lands in his lap. Tell Renjun how you feel!!
He clears his throat, takes a deep breath, and says, with full sincerity, “Um, hi, Renjun. It’s good to see you. You look very pretty today.”
“Oh my god,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes. The shock on Jaemin’s face is really tickling him. “Please don’t say what I think you’re about to say.”
“Well, I’ve been thinking about how much I enjoy spending time with you, and I—”
“I have a boyfriend. You know him.”
Jaemin tries again, and it’s a valiant effort. “I know that, but I just wanted to tell you that I really—”
“Hard pass. Don’t you feel pathetic pining over someone who’s clearly taken?” Donghyuck asks with as much vitriol as he can muster.
Something flashes across Jaemin’s face; maybe Donghyuck has taken all of this a little too far.
But then Jaemin’s leaning all the way in like he did that first night, drawn closer like he can’t help himself. His eyes are dark, roused, fixated on Donghyuck’s mouth in earnest. Donghyuck forgets that he’s supposed to be Renjun. Forgets everything with Jaemin in such close proximity, itching to give in to temptation and—Donghyuck shoves him away, blood rushing in his ears like he’s barely escaped with his life.
“What are you doing, Jaem?” he nearly whispers.
“Sorry,” Jaemin smirks, gaze searing. Any longer and Donghyuck might wither under it. “I think I like it when you’re mean to me.”
“Fuck,” he tries to run a stressed hand through his hair but only finds wig. “Renjun’s mean to everyone, you know that’s how he shows love. Where do we go from—”
“No, I meant you.”
Donghyuck short-circuits.
“…Huh?”
Jaemin laughs, twirling a finger around a blonde strand of hair near Donghyuck’s ear. “I can’t believe you found this stupid wig and did all this for me.”
There’s static where Donghyuck’s brain should be supplying a response. Something flirty, a little bold, maybe. He says instead: “It was, um. Underneath Chenle’s bed.”
Jaemin smirks like he’s enjoying having shocked him dumb. “You’re so cute, Donghyuck. I should’ve been paying attention to you.”
Donghyuck blanches and snaps out of it, but his heart betrays him by stuttering in his ribcage. “You jerk. Did you even like Renjun?”
“I don’t think so. I realized I was over it later that day,” Jaemin says, dropping his hand to Donghyuck’s neck, thumb tracing the line of his jaw. “I’m pretty sure I was just, like, really sleep deprived. I saw demons after you left me in Jeno’s room.”
“Okay, what—”
“—Anyway, the point is…I really want to kiss you right now. Thoughts?” Jaemin tilts his head and flashes his teeth, a snake wrapped around its prey.
“You’re such a whore,” Donghyuck scoffs.
Jaemin has the gall to lick his lips; Donghyuck pretends he isn’t completely enthralled by it. “Keep going…”
“And I think you have deep-rooted psychological issues—”
“Mmm.”
“—And I want full custody of Pikachu with child support,” he exhales. Jaemin has swayed his way back into Donghyuck’s space, their faces just an inch apart. His eyes twinkle with mirth and something that makes Donghyuck’s stomach flutter. He can practically taste the expensive coconut lip balm shimmering on Jaemin’s wet mouth. He might as well see how it compares to the real thing. “And lastly…I really want you to kiss me right now.”
“Good,” Jaemin says, and then his tongue is slipping into Donghyuck’s mouth, fervent and eager to please. He pushes Donghyuck down onto the couch with a hand on the back of his neck, climbing over him and slotting his leg between Donghyuck’s thighs. There’s coconut flavoring all over Donghyuck’s tongue, pear and bergamot saturating his nostrils—Jaemin all over him, all around him, in every sense.
They kiss until Donghyuck is gasping for air. But Jaemin is completely unfazed, save for his mussed hair and swollen lips, diving back in as soon as Donghyuck gives him the signal like he can’t get enough. His hand drags underneath cashmere and across Donghyuck’s ribs. He arches into Jaemin’s touch, whimpering into Jaemin’s mouth when his fingers sweep over his nipples.
“So sensitive,” Jaemin pulls away just enough to say. He presses his thigh to Donghyuck’s crotch, and Donghyuck hisses. “You’re so fucking hot.”
Donghyuck tightens his fist in Jaemin’s hair. “Even with this dumb wig on?”
“Yeah,” Jaemin says. He leans in once more to suck on Donghyuck’s bottom lip, slow but firm. “You’re hot all the time.”
Donghyuck tries to hide his face in the couch cushions, but Jaemin chases after him with a laugh, trailing wet kisses up his neck and biting at his earlobe, until he has no choice but to face the handsome man trying to eat him.
“You’re okay, I guess.”
“Just okay?” Jaemin frowns. Donghyuck lets himself squeeze Jaemin’s pout between his fingers, giggling at the way his mouth flattens into an uneven line.
“Taehee’s better.”
He growls, somehow. “I knew you were hung up on him.”
Donghyuck cackles at that, but Jaemin grinds down and it devolves into a weak croak. He pants against Jaemin’s neck when he toys with Donghyuck’s nipple and ruts his hips all at the same time, hot want spreading to every inch of Donghyuck’s body, lighting up every nerve ending.
“Wait, Jaemin—ah,” he moans at the sudden sting of teeth sinking into his throat, realizing how much he wants the bruise. Jaemin’s pupils are blown wide, dazed and consumed as he waits for Donghyuck to tell him what he wants. “I wanna blow you.”
He licks his lips again and nods, and in less than a minute, Donghyuck is on his knees, staring at Jaemin’s leaking tip, with Jaemin’s hands resting atop Donghyuck’s wig, ready to guide his mouth onto his cock.
“Here I go,” Donghyuck says.
Jaemin stifles a laugh. “Thanks for the warning.”
“Just being courteous,” he grumbles, and then swallows him down completely without hesitation. Jaemin gasps and tangles his fingers in the wig, overzealous, accidentally dislodging it in the process. Donghyuck lets it fall off, too busy letting Jaemin fuck into his mouth to care.
He stares down at Donghyuck, low groans spilling out of his mouth, losing composure, losing all control. Donghyuck loves him like this. Pretty, flushed, pulled apart.
“So good, oh my god,” Jaemin says. “Keep going. Just like that, baby.”
Donghyuck is obedient, his own dick straining in his jeans at the sight of Jaemin getting off on his tongue alone. He flutters his eyelashes and Jaemin takes it as a sign to push himself in further. Tears pool at the corner of Donghyuck’s eyes, but it feels good to be needed like this.
“Donghyuck,” Jaemin murmurs, tucking a sweaty strand of Donghyuck’s real hair behind his ear. “Duckie, I’m gonna come. Fuck—”
He doesn’t pull off, and Jaemin, observant as ever, knows exactly what it is that Donghyuck wants. He spills heat down Donghyuck’s throat seconds later, and somehow, that’s the moment when Donghyuck realizes how much he likes Jaemin, willing to swallow tacky, salty cum and be kissed afterwards. Somehow, it’s not so bad.
“C’mere,” Jaemin says, pulling Donghyuck back up and onto his bare lap. “Let me see you. Need to touch you.”
“I like your enthusiasm, but Jeno will kill us both if we get anything on the couch,” Donghyuck mumbles against Jaemin’s lips. “We should go to my room.”
He hoists Donghyuck up and he yelps, squeezing his legs around Jaemin’s middle and holding on for dear life until he’s laid gently across his bed. Jaemin helps him get undressed, taking his time peppering kisses across the moles on Donghyuck’s chest, his hips, his thighs.
He’s been desperate for release since Jaemin kissed him, seemingly forever ago. But Jaemin makes him feel like this isn’t some quick fuck, a heat-of-the-moment thing that’ll fizzle out once they both finish. His touch is gentle, lingering, pressing fingertips into the dimples on Donghyuck’s back like he’s trying to memorize how they feel. His eyes rove Donghyuck’s body with wonder, lips twitching when he notices the blush tinting Donghyuck’s cheeks.
“Gorgeous. And I bet you taste nice, too,” Jaemin says, breath ghosting over Donghyuck’s hole. It makes him shudder. “Can I…?”
Donghyuck nods shyly. “I won’t last very long.”
“That’s okay, baby,” Jaemin teases. “I just want to make it good for you.”
The nickname would be enough to send Donghyuck over the edge if he lets himself feel the weight of it. But Jaemin’s tongue is a much better prospect—when his mouth finally circles his rim, Donghyuck’s hips buck up so violently that Jaemin grips his thighs just to hold him in place.
It feels heavenly, how he slurps and sucks and stamps the outline of his hands into Donghyuck’s skin. Spurred by his breathy whines, Jaemin spreads Donghyuck wide and licks even deeper.
“Holy fuck, Jaem—that feels so—” Donghyuck keens as Jaemin focuses on stroking his tongue over his prostate, and that’s all he needs before cum streaks across his stomach and the sheets. He’s really glad they aren’t still on the couch.
Jaemin drops his head onto Donghyuck’s lap, and they both lie there, heaving quiet breaths.
Jaemin’s first to break the silence: “I figured out my type.” Lips brush against Donghyuck’s inner thigh. “It’s you.”
It’s a good thing that Jaemin can’t see his face from here. Donghyuck’s heart is still pounding, coming down from the rush. A sweet warmth starts to bloom in its place.
“Are you trying to tell me something?”
“Yeah, I’m trying to tell you how I feel,” Jaemin says, crawling up in all his naked glory to hover over him once again. Ruddy cheeks, kiss-bitten lips, a shade of tenderness in his big brown eyes. Donghyuck might be head over heels. “You’re not gonna reject me again, are you?”
“That was Renjun, not me.”
“Right. How could I forget?”
Donghyuck just shrugs like he doesn’t know. “Go on.”
Jaemin laughs, and the sound makes him want to melt. He plays with Donghyuck’s hair. “I like you. I’ve always thought you were cute, but the last few days made me realize how much I wanna be around you.”
“I like you back,” Donghyuck whispers. He angles his head up for a kiss, slow and perfect. “You’re just my type. I like how crazy you get. Keeps me on my toes.”
“Mm, you too. We should try the wig thing again sometime,” Jaemin smirks. “Just maybe one that’s not Chenle’s.”
“Good idea.”
He collapses on top of Donghuck, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “Can we lay here for a bit? I’ll clean you up in the shower, promise.”
Donghyuck pulls him closer to his chest, resting his cheek against Jaemin’s forehead.
“Sold.”
A week later, Donghyuck is in the kitchen of Jaemin’s apartment, scrolling on his phone after taking his daily allergy pill. He’s able to pet the cats for more than a few minutes at a time now, which is good because Luke is obsessed with him. Right now, he meows at Donghyuck’s shower-fresh legs, hoping he’ll sneak him a treat behind his dad’s back, even though Donghyuck has already folded twice today.
There’s an Instagram story from Jaemin from last night: Donghyuck and Pikachu at noraebang, the lyrics to SHINee’s “View” flashing across the screen. Yet another hard launch—the third one since the wig incident.
Donghyuck’s heart flutters pathetically, and it almost turns into a scream when he hears the front door slam.
“Jaemin!” Chenle bellows, heavy footsteps making their way down the hall. “Are you and Donghyuck a thing? I’ve been seeing your Instagram stories and—”
Chenle turns the corner and comes to a sudden stop, Jeno trailing close behind. He stares at Donghyuck, taking in Jaemin’s giant t-shirt hanging off his shoulders, Jaemin’s My Melody headband pushing back his curly hair, Jaemin’s cat curling up at his feet. The Shinchan shorts he’s wearing are obscured by Jaemin’s shirt, which probably doesn’t help.
“What the fuck?”
“Hey guys,” Donghyuck scratches his neck. “How’d you get in?”
“I have a spare. Duh,” Chenle says.
“When did everyone get spares to each other’s apartments and why did no one tell me?”
“Baby, what’s all that—oh, hi guys.” Jaemin is shirtless except for a matching pair of Shinchan shorts, which they bought together to make their relationship official.
“I told you they were dating,” Jeno smirks.
A huge, cat-like grin grows on Chenle’s face. “Wowww, how did this happen? And when?” He gasps. “Is this what you needed the wig for? Ew!”
Jaemin and Donghyuck exchange a guilty look. He’s not exactly wrong.
“Let’s just say that someone in our friend group brought us together,” Jaemin says placatingly, snaking an arm around Donghyuck’s waist.
“Aw, was it me?” Chenle blinks, ecstatic. “You know, I’ve kind of been rooting for you guys for a while now. Just ask Jeno.”
“It’s true,” Jeno confirms. His arm is also around Chenle, stuck to his side like an obedient puppy. The four of them make for a sweet sight.
Donghyuck raises his eyebrows, glancing up at Jaemin for confirmation. He gives him a small smile and a cute nod. “You know what, it was you, Chenle. Thanks for getting me a hot boyfriend.”
“I’m happy I could help,” Chenle beams.
“Thanks, Lele, seriously,” Jaemin says before pressing his nose into Donghyuck’s hair and planting a kiss on his temple. “I’m really lucky.”