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Jisung never really understood what love was. He’s heard the word thrown around in passing but with different meanings depending on the context. There’s love for tangible things like Donghyuck loving chocolate ice cream and Renjun loving his red bike.
Then there’s the love you act upon on instinct- like when people love to do certain things even if they won’t openly admit it. Chenle loves to tease Jisung when he fails to do things like capture a firefly in a jar and his parents love to pretend like he can't hear them argue from their bedroom down the hall at night.
“Is everything ok?” he’d ask them at the breakfast table in the morning. They’d exchange a look, a mix of shock that fades into denial, then brush it off like it was nothing.
“Of course everything is ok,” his mother smoothly gives her rehearsed answer. “Why wouldn't they be?”
Jisung frowns. “But you were arguing last night.”
“Your father and I were just having a grown up discussion.”
“You both sounded angry though,” he pushes. “You'd tell me right? If something was wrong?”
“There’s nothing you need to worry about,” his dad interjects. “You’re eleven years old. Just let the grownups handle everything.”
And just like that he’s cut off from the conversation. Jisung huffs his cheeks in silent frustration but eats his syrup-soaked waffles without further pestering.
It was just the way things were. He’d voice out a concern with his parents or ask his friends a question like ‘where do you think babies come from?’ and he’d get shut down or made fun of.
“You really don't know?” Chenle laughs. “Everyone knows that.”
Jisung drops his shoulders and looks away with mild embarrassment. “I don't,” he mumbles softly.
“Of course you wouldn’t. You’re the baby on the block.” Donghyuck coos at him, pinching his cheeks.
Jisung scoffs, pushing his hands away. “Knock it off.”
“Don't sweat it, Jisung. One day, you’ll be grown up like us.” Renjun says with a cocky smirk.
‘Yeah right,’ Jisung thinks with a roll of his eyes. Donghyuck and Renjun are only thirteen and Chenle is about to turn twelve. They were all middle schoolers, too! As if one or two years would really make that big of a difference. Jisung doubts they had as much experience as they claimed to have.
But the way he’s treated like a child instead of an equal by his friends and his family makes him believe that he’s the only one in the world who doesn't understand the basic things in life- the most basic being what love is.
Maybe he will never know what it's like to love and be loved.
It's easy to imagine what it would be like though. All he has to do is look at his fantasy being lived out by the boy who lives across the street.
Jaemin Na is everything Jisung hopes to be when he's older. At seventeen years old, he holds the reputation of being the most sought after person in their neighborhood. He has bright brown eyes that peak beneath flowy, blonde waves and a wide smile that charms everyone around him.
Every Saturday night, he comes home after another date with one of his many admirers. It never seemed to result in anything serious though, since he’d never go on a date with someone more than once. But it didn’t matter because the next weekend there’d be a new suitor at his door to accept the challenge of trying to sweep the unattainable Jaemin Na off his feet.
All it takes is careful observation from Jisung’s part to learn more about Jaemin. He knows that Jaemin has a seemingly great relationship with his parents, his dad in particular. After church, instead of running off with friends like most teens would on a Sunday afternoon, Jaemin would always have lunch with his parents. Then they’d engage in some family activity like mini golf or going to the movies and in the evening they’d have a cozy dinner at home.
Jisung is willing to bet a million dollars that Jaemin has never had to hear his parents have ‘grown up discussions’. They probably just talked things out as a family because he was respected and never treated like a dumb kid. His friends only ever laughed with him but not at him because Jaemin was appreciated and most importantly- loved.
Jisung wanted that life.
At night, when it was past Jisung’s bedtime, he’d sit by his window and observe Jaemin in his own room across the street. He always applied his favorite lotion before putting on his favorite striped, navy blue pajamas and lighting his favorite scented candle. Then he’d dance along to his favorite record while he picks out his outfit for the next day.
Once the last track ended, he’d blow out his candle and tangle himself in his white satin sheets before drifting off into a deep sleep. Then Jisung would follow the same routine because to him, there was no one cooler than Jaemin; he wanted to grow up to be just like him. Maybe then he would know what it was like to love and be loved.
Jisung is slumped against the backseat, eyes fixed on the roof of the car as he listens to his mother hum along to a song playing on the radio while she reapplies her lipstick. They are currently at the train station waiting for his father to arrive. He’s been away for the weekend on an important work trip with his colleagues.
Jisung vaguely recalls his dad mentioning something about a promotion if this trip went well, but his mom didn’t exactly elaborate the details when he asked. It's not like a kid like him would understand, or so she implied.
The sound of screeching tires makes Jisung sit up and peer out the window. He brightens up when he sees it’s Jaemin, leisurely stepping out of the driver’s seat of his dad's car and lighting up a cigarette.
“Goodness, someone needs to take away that boy's license,” his mother mutters disapprovingly.
“But that's how he always drives,” Jisung points out.
His mother raises a brow at this. “And how would you know that?”
“I’ve seen him when he drives himself to school sometimes,” he explains. “I’ve heard that he can drive from home to school in less than ten minutes! That's how he gets perfect attendance.”
His mother hums her acknowledgment in an unimpressed tone but holds back any insults lingering on the tip of her tongue, never wanting to break her guise of a proper lady.
“As important as it is to get to school on time, it is not safe to drive so recklessly.” She makes eye contact with her son in the rear view mirror as she adjusts a few stray pieces of hair into place. “Promise me when you start driving that you’ll be responsible?”
Jisung drops back down into his seat with a bored sigh, and reluctantly agrees. “Yes Mom. I will.”
“That's my boy.” His mother grins proudly, both satisfied with his answer and her overall appearance. ”Now come. Your father is about to arrive at the platform.”
Once he’s outside, Jisung peeks over to where Jaemin had parked. At hearing the announcement of the train’s arrival, the blonde crushes his cigarette under his shoe and shoves gum into his mouth before moving forward.
From the sidelines, Jisung watches as Jaemin runs into his dad's embrace and is greeted with a proud smile. It's a Sunday- which means they will head home and resume their usual routine of family time. His mother is probably still preparing their dinner at home.
Jisung catches sight of his own father walking towards him and his mother. He stands up a little straighter, expecting a warm welcome as well. What he gets is a mere pat on the head and a call to hurry into the car.
“Congratulations dear,” Jisung hears his mother say as he slips on his seatbelt in the back. “I knew you’d get it,” she pressed a kiss to her husband’s cheek.
“Thank you,” he basks in his wife’s acclaim. “Lord knows we need all the help we can get if we’re gonna be adding more members to this family.”
“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves,” she laughs weakly. “Who knows how long it’ll be until it happens.”
“It’s not too late, is it?” his father asks in a hushed tone, as if the question will be unheard to Jisung’s ears at said volume. “Are you still ovula-”
“No,” she cuts him off, lips tight. “Yesterday was my last day.”
A heavy silence fills the cramped space of their car as they drive home. Jisung starts mentally preparing himself for the harsh words his parents will exchange once they get home. He’ll brush his teeth and tuck himself into bed, burying his head underneath his pillows just praying for the day that he will be able to come home and have a peaceful family dinner like Jaemin.
The bowling alley is one of the local hotspots. Every kid in town goes there, and in summer, it's the perfect place to have fun with friends and escape the summer heat for a while.
Jisung’s standing in his lane, pointing the ball in the direction he wants it to go. He pulls back and just as he’s about to release the bowling ball, Chenle jumps out from behind him and yells in his ear. The sudden action makes him jump, and the ball ends up going into the next lane instead.
“Man, I have never seen anyone screw up like that,” Chenle doubles over in laughter. “Does that even count as a score?”
“I think a negative zero works,'' Donghyuck teases as he writes it into the scoreboard.
“My turn!” Renjun calls as Jisung dejectedly slumps back into his seat. He didn't even really want to bowl today anyway. The only reason he’s here is because his mom dropped him and his friends off while she went shopping with their moms.
“Hey look. Your crush is here,” Donghyuck nudges him with his elbow.
Jisung instantly looks over by the entrance and sees Jaemin walking in with his usual confident demeanor- dressed in light blue jeans and a pink shirt with the first few buttons undone, a beaming smile, and surrounded by friends. It’s like his existence alone demanded attention, and judging by the number of people who were instantly captivated by his entrance, it seems they are more than willing to give it to him.
“My mom says he’s been on a date with every girl in his grade so now he’s going through all the boys.”
Jisung redirects his attention to Renjun with eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”
“It means he goes on dates with boys, too.”
The younger boy blinks. Sure, he’s seen boys showing up at Jaemin’s house on Saturdays but he always assumed they were older brothers of whatever girl was his date for the night…
“You can do that?!” he asks, genuinely surprised.
“Of course you can.” Chenle butts in. “Boys can date boys and girls can date girls.”
“My mom says it's some new trend that's going on or something,” Renjun adds. “All the people in the big city are doing it. “
Boys dating boys and girls dating girls. Yet another aspect of love Jisung didn't know about.
“Why do you care anyways?” Donghyuck pesters. “Are you trying to get a date with Jaemin?”
“What? No!” Jisung exclaims, shaking his head in denial. “I just think he’s really cool!”
“You’re not cool enough to go on a date with him anyways,” Chenle ridicules. “You’re not even cool enough to be friends with him.”
“That's not true!” Jisung shoots back defensively. “I can totally be his friend!”
“Oh yeah?” Donghyuck raises his brow in a challenge. “Why don't you go over and talk to him?” He points towards the service counter where Jaemin is currently waiting.
Jisung gulps, but the mocking tone of his friends have dented his pride so he stands up with a sudden rush of adrenaline. “Fine! I will!”
He can feel his friends' eyes watching him intently and that alone motivates him to walk a little bit faster towards Jaemin. The closer he gets though, the more nervous he feels and his confident stride falters.
Instead of introducing himself like he planned in his mind, he slips behind the older boy as if he’s there to just wait in line and does what he does best: he watches, but this time up close.
Jaemin is repeatedly ringing the bell on the counter for service to get bowling shoes when a young worker appears. “Hey dollface,” they greet.
It’s not the usual guy who Jisung always sees. This guy has dark brown hair that’s slicked back and a strong jawline that could be intimidating, but his eyes scrunch up with a mix of mystery and mischief. “If I wanted a busted bell, I’d do it myself,” they taunt, but not in the way his friends taunt him. The worker’s voice is deep but playful in a way that makes one feel like they are in on the joke.
Jaemin looks down at where the worker has placed a hand over his on the bell and raises an eyebrow. “And who are you exactly?” he asks, slightly intrigued.
“The solution to all your problems?” The worker answers cheekily, but Jaemin shoots him an unamused look. “Ok,” he caves after a few seconds with a charmed laugh. “The name’s Jeno.”
“Well, Jeno,” Jaemin brightly repeats. “You mind giving me my hand back?”
“Depends,” Jeno peers at the blonde with a sly glint in his eyes. “You think you can control yourself and not break my bell?”
“Only if you promise to control yourself when I go to play with my friends and start bending over to grab a ball,” Jaemin shoots back.
Jeno is momentarily stunned by the witty comeback but lets out a big laugh when he notices Jaemin’s smug grin. “I promise I’ll stay in my lane,” he removes his hand. “So what can I do for a beauty like you?”
“There are lots of things you can do for me.” Jaemin plays along with the other’s banter because damn, Jeno is actually really handsome and it’s been a while since he’s found himself even mildly interested in anyone.
Jeno places his elbows on the counter and leans forward. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” Jaemin mimics the other's position without breaking eye contact. “For starters, you can get me my shoes. Size 9 in white with the pink laces,” he sweetly requests while batting his long lashes.
Jeno flashes a captivated smile before looking over for the shoes. “Looks like someone already took those,” he informs.
“But Jaehyun always saves those shoes for me,” Jaemin pouts.
“Sorry, dollface. Jaehyun isn't here anymore. He graduated and moved close to his college.”
Jaemin lets out an exaggerated sigh. “So now I just gotta take what I can get?”
“Look on the bright side. At least you got me now,” Jeno reassures. He steps away briefly before placing white size 9 shoes but with blue laces on the counter. “This good enough for you?”
“Nothing is good enough for me.” Jaemin claims, but he reaches for the shoes anyways.
Jeno momentarily ogles the other’s frame with interest as he’s tying up his laces. “Too good for everything and everyone, huh princess?”
“My name isn't princess,” the blonde corrects, ignoring the question as he stands up straight. “It's Jaemin.”
“Jaemin,” Jeno repeats with a satisfied grin. “Enjoy your game. I’ll be over here not looking at you bend over.”
Jaemin rolls his eyes but the flush from his face gives away his endearment. Jisung idly stands by and watches as Jaemin saunters over to his own group of friends. Then he averts his gaze back to Jeno and finds that the older boy has yet to look away from Jaemin- his eyes full of wonder and intrigue.
Jisung had never met Jeno, had never even seen him before today but he decided that if he’s someone who can make Jaemin smile, then that made him a good person in his books.
“Can I help you, kid?” Jeno’s voice breaks through his thoughts. When their eyes meet, Jisung panics at the sudden eye contact and immediately rushes away.
“What the hell was that?” Renjun cackles when Jisung takes a seat back in their lane.
“I told you he wasn't cool enough,” Chenle laughs. “He couldn't even say hi! He just stood there like an idiot listening to Jaemin talk to the new guy.”
“Shut up!” Jisung whines. “I don't see any of you guys trying to talk to Jaemin!”
“That’s different. You're still a kid. You still need to prove you’re cool,” Donghyuck explains. “We, on the other hand, are not kids anymore so we have nothing to prove.”
“Your logic is stupid.” Jisung deadpans. “It's not like you’re old enough to drive or something.”
“Whatever!” Renjun cuts in. “Can we just get back to our game?”
But as they keep playing, Jisung can’t stop getting distracted by Jaemin and his friends. He notices how the blonde keeps sneaking glances towards the service counter and whenever he meets eyes with Jeno, the worker would wink and he’d look away with a blush.
It wasn’t unusual for Jaemin to be desired, but it was the first time Jisung had seen Jaemin react so positively to the attention. Jisung thinks about Jaemin and Jeno’s interaction, both verbal and nonverbal, and he wonders if having that sort of instant connection with someone was a common occurrence.
Jisung’s thoughts are once again disrupted by a sudden announcement being made over the sound system.
“Jaemin Na to the service counter.”
It’s Jeno’s voice who makes the announcement, so when Jisung looks over, he expects to see Jeno behind the counter with his playful grin. Instead, he sees the older boy with serious eyes and a deep frown. There are two police officers nearby solemnly speaking with Jaemin and that’s the last thing he sees before Jaemin’s shoulders visibly drop and he’s escorted out.
Jisung always believed that if one of his parents died, that he would also die. It's how he came to be, according to his mom; they prayed, they kissed and then they breathed him into life. So it only made sense that if one of them suddenly stopped breathing, that he would also stop breathing.
But that wasn't the case with Jaemin.
His dad was dead but Jaemin still managed to look his best and present himself with dignity in front of all the neighbors, family friends and work colleagues that came by to give their condolences. The day of the burial, the house was packed and anyone else would have been overwhelmed by all the sudden attention but Jaemin handled the occasion with grace.
Jisung didn’t think he would be able to look as composed as Jaemin did standing beside his mother as people practically lined up for hugs and repetitive words of comfort, his own mother included.
Hours had gone by but people didn't seem to want to leave them alone. It was truly suffocating, and Jisung decided he just wasn’t strong like Jaemin when he eventually snuck away and sat out on the sidewalk to catch some air.
So when he spots Jaemin suddenly rushing out of the house, his eyes widen in shock. “I apologize!” he blurts out.
Jaemin startles and turns around abruptly. “What?”
“I a-apologize,” Jisung stutters as he lifts himself up off the pavement. “I mean. I'm sorry! About your dad. I’m sorry.”
Jaemin blankly stares down at Jisung before shaking his head with disdain. “Thanks kid, but I really don't have time for this. Just leave me alone ok?” he says before he turns away to continue making his way down the road.
Jisung notices the pair of bowling shoes in Jaemin’s hands. “I didn't know you could bowl this late!” he comments.
Jaemin freezes mid-step and sighs with resignation, turning back to come closer to Jisung. “Who are you, exactly?”
Jisung doesn’t answer right away, too busy struggling to not let the disappointment show in his face. They’ve lived in the same neighborhood his whole life. They go to the same church. Their dads worked in the same office. Their families have even had dinner together once! Has Jaemin really never noticed him before? Was he that forgettable?
“Your name?” Jaemin pushes.
“Jisung!” he responds once his mind catches up with what is happening. “Jisung Park. I live right across the street from you.”
“Right. Sorry,” Jaemin apologizes wryly. “You’ve gotten taller.”
Jisung instantly perks up. So he’s not invisible! Jaemin recognizes him! “My mom says I’m probably going through a growth spurt. I’ve already grown an inch just this summer!”
“That sounds about right,” Jaemin agrees absentmindedly, clearly distracted by scanning over their surroundings for any bystanders. Once he’s sure that no one else is around, he slowly leans closer towards Jisung’s ear. “Could you keep a secret if I asked you to?”
“Me?” Jisung points to himself. “Sure!”
“Ok,” Jaemin moves back to look the younger boy directly in the eye. “Listen, Park. If anyone asks, you never saw me leave tonight. It's really important, ok?”
“I can do that. I promise!” Jisung emphasizes by holding out his pinky. Jaemin softly chuckles at the gesture but indulges the younger by intertwining their pinkies in a promise.
Once more, Jaemin turns to leave but there’s one thing that Jisung really wants to know and he’s afraid that if he doesn’t ask now then he’ll never get another chance.
“Jaemin!” he calls out.
The older boy cringes at the high volume his name has just been yelled at, but he decides to humor the kid, so he looks over his shoulder and raises an eyebrow in amusement. “What’s up, Park?”
“Is it true that boys can love boys and girls can love girls?”
He softens at the kid with lanky limbs looking up at him through a shaggy, slightly overgrown bowl cut. “You can love anyone as long as they’re worth it,” he answers earnestly and it seems Jisung is satisfied with his answer as his innocent eyes light up.
The squeak of the front door echoes as Jaemin enters the seemingly empty bowling alley. The memory of being here just a few days ago and getting the worst news of his life weighs heavy in his chest. It’s like he’s entered a ghost town without the screams of restless children, the cussing from competitive teenagers and the nagging of exhausted parents.
When he rings the service bell, the sound ripples in waves throughout the vast space. Jaemin is disappointed when there isn’t a handsome worker who pops up and lures him in with his entrancing eye smile.
Just as he’s about to head out, he notices there’s someone laying on their back and repairing one of the lanes at the far end. Without thinking, his feet carry him to the source with renewed vigor.
“Hey you,” he greets softly.
“We’re closed,” Jeno replies without looking up. The disinterest and lack of recognition in his voice makes Jaemin doubtful. Had he misinterpreted Jeno’s playful banter as flirting? Maybe he was the only one who felt the attraction. Maybe he just didn’t leave as big of an impression on him as Jeno did to him.
“I just wanted to bring these back.” The blonde continues.
Jeno puts down his tools and hoists himself up with his forearms to look up at the person speaking to him. His expression freezes when he sees Jaemin standing there, holding a pair of bowling shoes.
Jeno’s unsure on how to react. The last time he saw Jaemin, he had to witness the moment his heart shattered at the news of his father’s passing. It was such a drastic change from their initial meeting- all dazzling smiles and sparkling eyes.
It was the pretty face, tapered waist and long legs that caught Jeno’s eye, but it was the witty comebacks and confident way Jaemin carried himself that had him hooked. He itched to chase that feeling, to possibly fuel the spark between them into something neither of them had ever felt before.
But Jaemin’s heart was hurting- his wound freshly opened and seeping through tear-glistened eyes and shaky hands. Jeno is unfamiliar with how to handle a person in this state of vulnerability, but it’s obvious that it isn’t exactly appropriate to act on his feelings given the circumstances. He just doesn’t know what to do or what to say.
“So... how much do I owe you?” Jaemin awkwardly shifts in place, unsure on how to read Jeno’s silence.
“Oh. Um.” Jeno clears his throat, moving to fully sit up. “Don’t worry about it, dollface. No charge.”
“I can pay for it, ya know.” Jaemin stubbornly retorts.
“I’m sure you can,” Jeno says softly. “But you’ve got enough worries on your mind. So let me take care of it.”
“I can pay you with something besides money,” Jaemin proposes, voice suddenly deeper. He steps in closer towards Jeno, dropping down right in front of him to meet him at eye level. Jeno’s gaze follows the delicate hand that begins to graze up his thigh.
“I’ve been told I’m pretty good with my mouth,” Jaemin continues, eyes dark and alluring. “Wanna find out if it's true?”
Jeno audibly gulps, fixated on the feeling of fingers caressing his inner thigh and the way Jaemin eagerly awaits his response through hooded eyes. His lips are so appealing, pink and wet, slightly parted, just waiting to be stretched open and filled with his-
“This is a bad idea,” Jeno shakes away his inappropriate thoughts, his conscience kicking in. It takes every ounce of self control left in his body to push Jaemin’s hand away. “We shouldn’t do this.”
“Why not?” Jaemin frowns, taken aback from the sudden rejection. “I know you’re into me and I think you’re hot. So what’s the problem?”
“The problem is that you’re hurting right now,” Jeno reasons. “You’re not in the right mindset for getting intimate.”
Jaemin’s expression hardens at the other’s words. “Fuck you,” he scoffs bitterly. “I should have known you’d be just like everyone else. Always trying to tell me what’s good for me as if I’m incapable of figuring it out on my own. I don’t need you or anyone else,” he stands, throwing the bowling shoes to the floor as he turns to leave.
“Wait!” Jeno scrambles up to his feet and runs over to grab onto Jaemin’s wrist to stop him. “Can’t we just talk or something?”
“Why would I wanna talk to you?!” Jaemin snaps back defensively.
“You know why.” Jeno’s eyes scan over the blonde’s attire. “You aren't exactly wearing party clothes.“
“You don't know what I wear to parties,” Jaemin fires back. Jeno’s strong grip keeps him rooted in place but he’s facing away from the latter, refusing to let his guard down completely. “For all you know, I always go to parties in a black suit.”
“You're right. I don't know,” Jeno relents, letting go of Jaemin’s arm and watching it drop lifelessly to his side. “So why did you come here?”
“I told you. I came to bring back the shoes. I sorta walked out with them,” Jaemin explains himself but his composure dissolves a little more with every word and suddenly he feels tears steadily streaming down his face. “I have nowhere else to go,” he confesses with a broken voice.
Jeno gently maneuvers Jaemin’s body so they’re standing face to face, but Jaemin’s eyes are stubbornly cast downward. “Look at me?” he requests to which Jaemin shakes his head in defiance.
But when he hears how caringly Jeno asks ‘Please?’ he slowly raises his head and lets their eyes connect. “I thought you didn’t want me,” he whispers between sniffles.
“It’s not that I don't want you. I just don’t want to take advantage of you.” Jeno raises his hand to hold the crying boy's face in his palm, carefully wiping away the stray tears with his thumb. “You deserve better than that.”
“So can I stay here with you?” Jaemin blinks hopefully.
“Of course you can,” Jeno smiles, crescent eyes and all. “I know exactly what you need to feel better.”
“Is this when you drop the whole gentleman act?” Jaemin asks jokingly. “Earn my trust then drag me into a storage closet and fuck my throat ‘til it’s raw?”
Jeno chuckles with amusement. “Sorry to ruin your fantasy dollface, but no. I’m not.” But his grin widens when he adds, “We can always do that another time though, if you’re up for it.”
It's then that Jaemin notices how different Jeno looks from this close up: tanned skin kissed with sunspots around his nose and cheeks, the mole right under his eye, slight stubble starting to appear around his jawline and dark brown hair now free of product falling over his eyes. He pushes it back a bit and gets a better view of the mischievous glint in the other’s eyes.
The realization of the other’s proposition hits him suddenly and he lightly pushes him away. “Shut up,” Jaemin jabs but his face and neck are visibly more red. “I don't have fantasies about you.”
“That's a shame really,” Jeno feigns disappointment. “Because you look really good in that suit.”
Jaemin lets out a weak laugh whilst rubbing away at the remaining dampness from his cheeks. “You’re lucky I think you’re hot or I would've kicked your ass for making a comment like that.”
“At least I made you stop crying,” Jeno beams in victory.
“Yeah... you did,” Jaemin’s voice softens as his laughter dies down. He’s slightly flustered by the smug look of accomplishment in Jeno’s demeanor so he clears his throat in an effort to regain his composure. “So what’s this thing that’s gonna make me feel better?”
“Oh that? Follow me,” Jeno holds out his hand. “But only if you trust me.”
Jaemin briefly contemplates Jeno’s words. This is someone he’s only met once before, but he can’t seem to resist the gravitational pulls towards this boy with soft brown eyes and good-natured smirks. As a result, he accepts the outstretched hand and allows their fingers to intertwine.
“Lead the way.”
They cross towards the other end of the alley, through a ‘staff only’ door and into a storage room of sorts. There’s a singular dim bulb lighting up the room, revealing a giant object hidden underneath a tarp. “It’s a recording booth,” Jeno clarifies as he removes said tarp and tosses it to the side. “It took over a month of messing around with it but I finally got it to work.”
“I thought you just started working here?”
“Officially yeah, but I've done odd jobs like this for the owner for a while now,” Jeno clarifies as he’s fumbling with an extension cord in search of an outlet.
Jaemin hums in understanding. “Then how come I’ve never seen you before?”
Jeno crouches, reaching behind the booth to connect to the power. “Probably because I only came by after hours.”
“You never come just to hang out with friends or something?”
“This is starting to feel like an interrogation,” Jeno jokingly berates as he stands back up and dusts off the sleeves of his denim jacket. “This isn’t really our scene. We prefer hanging by the pier.”
“That’s a shame,” Jaemin comments as he studies the booth with curiosity. “You could have met me a long time ago.”
Jeno carefully observes as Jaemin slides the door open and steps in, taking a seat on the bench inside. “You’re shameless, aren’t you?” he asks, leaning against the booth’s door frame with his arms crossed over his chest.
Jaemin flashes a cheeky smile up at him. “I like to think I’m confident.”
“Yeah? Then how about this?” Jeno challenges. “There’s a blank record inside. All you gotta do is hit the red button to record, then press stop when you’re done and boom- You’ve got a self-made record.”
“...You want me to sing?”
“No! You don’t have to sing.” Jeno laughs. “Just say whatever comes to mind.”
“Trying to get me to spill my secrets I see,” Jaemin teases. “Nice try but I’m not spilling my heart out to a stranger.”
Jeno tsks. “You always cry in front of strangers?”
“No,” Jaemin firmly denies. “You just caught me at a bad moment,” he mumbles lowly.
“So I guess I’m not a stranger,” Jeno grins in victory.
Jaemin adamantly crosses his arms. “Forget it. I'm not doing it.”
Jeno leans in, eyes narrowed in mock-suspicion. “What are you so afraid of?” he provokes. “I thought you said you were confident?”
Jaemin redirects his gaze to the microphone in front of him and straightens his posture. “So I just hit record?” he deflects. “Then what?”
Jeno grins, pleased at the outcome. “Start with introducing yourself. If you don’t know what else to say, just continue with something trivial like what you had for breakfast. The rest will naturally come to you.”
“Sounds easy enough.” Jaemin replies with faux casualty, though internally he’s hesitant. He doesn’t want to appear weak in front of the other, but he can’t exactly back down now.
“Good. I’ll be right out here if you need me,” Jeno assures before closing the booth door.
Every thought in Jaemin’s head suddenly jumps out from hiding and floats around in wild patterns like a shaken up snow globe. He tries to grasp at least one of them to lead with before letting out a deep breath and hitting the record button.
“Um. Hi. This is Jaemin Na. I’m seventeen years old. I start my senior year of high school in the fall. My favorite color is white. Umm…” he trails off, unsure of what else to add. “Today, I had leftover casserole for breakfast?”
Jeno signals for him to keep going but Jaemin groans with exasperation and opens the door. “I don’t want to do this. This is stupid!”
“But you’re doing great!” Jeno encourages.
“How is this gonna help me anyway?”
“It's good to let it all out,” Jeno explains. “And when you’re done, you won't be carrying those feelings on your shoulders anymore. Instead, they’ll be something tangible and easy to discard so you can make room for new feelings. Ya know, hopefully ones that won’t hurt you.”
The idea is foreign to Jaemin. He’s gotten so used to bottling everything in and forcing a smile to please everyone around him- his parents, his teachers, his priest, his friends.
Somehow Jaemin has established this reputation of being the golden boy who has everyone eating out of his hands. It led him to appear a bit stand-offish with impossibly high standards, but the truth is that Jaemin is afraid of truly letting anyone in- afraid that they’d be disappointed at seeing who he really is instead of the illusion he created of himself.
Jeno makes it feel so easy though. He didn’t have to keep hiding who he is because right from the start Jeno could see right past his facade. So Jaemin closes the booth and steadies his breathing as he lets his wild snow globe thoughts begin to peacefully settle in place before resuming the recording.
“My dad died from a heart attack this week,” he proceeds. “His funeral was today. We buried him in the cemetery right next to his parents just like he wanted. I wonder how long ago he planned all this, how long he knew his health wasn’t great. I think I’m okay with him not telling me about it though. Then I would've spent what little time we had left together just worrying about him...
“I’m tired of all the people who drop by to give condolences. I hate having people feeling sorry for me- especially the ones I don't know. Even the kid who lives across the street feels sorry for me,” Jaemin laments.
The image of shaggy haired Jisung pops up in his mind, how his face naturally scrunches up like a hamster and innocent brown eyes that look up at Jaemin expectantly like he has all the answers. “It’s not his fault, I guess. He’s just trying to be nice.” He pauses. It feels like it’s been forever since he was Jisung’s age and playing on the streets with his friends. “I kinda wish I could be that young and carefree again. Now I’m just filled with burdens.”
He looks over at where Jeno is standing and when the other gives him a comforting smile, he continues. “I met one of my dad's friends today. I had only seen him in pictures before but he and dad grew up together. He mentioned that when they were teens they would go out dancing all the time…
“I would have loved to see you dance, dad. But you spent so much time working and supporting me and mom. I wish you would have let loose every once in a while and had some fun. I hope me and mom were enough to make you a happy man. I'm gonna miss seeing you smile... Wherever you are, I hope you’re happy there too.”
And with that, Jaemin stops the recording and steps out with lighter shoulders.
Jaemin is reluctant to go back home, but he doesn’t refuse when Jeno offers to give him a ride. They don’t say anything along the way, Jeno allowing the other to reflect on the day’s events. Silence is always so much more prominent when the bystanders are gone and you’re left alone with your grievances, Jaemin realizes.
When they arrive at their destination, Jeno turns off the engine and steps out of the car. Like a true gentleman, he opens the door for Jaemin and escorts him to his front porch. It’s unnecessary since Jaemin is perfectly capable of handling himself, but he lets himself be cared for anyway.
Truthfully, the act of chivalry has Jaemin internally swooning, making it even more difficult to let go now that it was time for them to head their separate ways.
He turns to face Jeno, if only to keep him around a minute longer. “What should I do with this?” he holds up the record in his hand.
“Now you bury it,” Jeno instructs. “Ya know, like a time capsule. Then we’ll dig it up again in thirty years.”
“Have you ever made one of these?”
“Once. But it was a long time ago, after my dad split. It seemed like such a big deal back then but it's not so important anymore,” Jeno admits with a nonchalant shrug. “I mean just ‘cause it's your parents don't mean you gotta love them, right?”
Jaemin frowns. “I love my dad.”
A single glance over the house gives Jeno a general idea of what Jaemin’s life is like- a pretty boy with a stable home and caring, borderline overbearing parents. He’s got the friends, he’s got the looks, he’s got the charm; everything seems to be in Jaemin’s favor. There’s a slight twinge of envy, but ultimately Jeno feels that someone like Jaemin deserves everything he never had.
“You’re one of the lucky ones,” he concludes. Whether or not Jeno deserved to be included in Jaemin’s life, well, that was left out in the air.
”You should probably get back in there before you get into trouble.”
“Yeah I should,” Jaemin agrees but he remains rooted in place, wide eyes peering up at Jeno through delicate wisps of blonde fringe.
Jeno's eyes shift downwards towards Jaemin’s lips. He’s tempted to lean in, to feel them against his own but decides against it in fear of overstepping boundaries and settles for a tender kiss to his temple. “I guess I’ll see you in thirty years to dig up that time capsule.”
Jaemin gives a bashful bite to his lower lip and the action almost causes Jeno to lose his restraint so he respectfully steps back. “Goodnight,” he murmurs before turning to make his way back to his car.
“Wait!” Jaemin calls out before he gets too far. Jaemin strides over to him with urgents steps, record tossed aside onto the lawn and eyes gleaming with slight desperation before reaching around Jeno’s neck and pulling him in for a kiss. “Thank you,” he whispers between their lips. “For everything.“
Jeno presses their foreheads together, breathless but ultimately relieved. “My pleasure, dollface,” he exhales before diving in for another taste.
They stay that way for a while, with their arms wrapped around each other and chasing lips whenever one of them briefly pulls away to catch their breath. Jeno would love to stick around for the whole night and savor this moment, but when the porch light switches on, he’s reminded of why he can’t.
“Goodnight, princess.” He gives one more firm peck as a farewell before running off to his car, slipping into the driver’s seat and driving off.
Just then, Mrs. Na steps out to the front porch. “Jaemin?” she calls out. “Is that you?”
Jaemin shifts his gaze away from the road towards his mother. “I’m here, Mom,” he confirms.
With a relieved sigh, she runs out of the house and embraces her son. Jaemin allows his mother to smother him no matter how hard it is for him to breathe. For now, they comfort each other through their mutual grief.
From his peripheral vision, Jaemin notices Jisung peeking out the window of his house. He’s not sure how long the kid has been watching but, at that moment, he can’t really bring himself to care about the lack of privacy. Instead, he brings up a finger and presses it against his lips behind his mother’s back. Jisung crosses his heart before mimicking the motion- a sign of shared secrecy.
Donghyuck, Renjun, and Chenle are huddled around a random board game in Jisung’s living room when they hear the roar of cars coming down the street. The ruckus immediately piques their curiosity and they rush to open the window. There are three cars full of people with the tops down parked in front of Jaemin’s house, music blaring from the speakers.
“It's that guy from the bowling alley.” Renjun points out and sure enough, there’s Jeno stepping out of his car, giving a final look over his appearance in the side view mirror before walking over to ring Jaemin’s doorbell.
After about a minute, Mrs. Na comes out. “Greetings ma'am,” he starts. “Is Jaemin around?”
“He’s busy at the mome-” she starts to answer but is interrupted by Jaemin making a sudden appearance beside her. “Hey Jeno!” he greets excitedly, almost as if he’d been ready and waiting for Jeno’s arrival all day long.
Jeno’s face brightens at Jaemin’s presence. “Hey dollface. I just stopped by to see if you wanna go get a coke or something?”
“Yeah sure!” Jaemin accepts before pushing past his mother and pressing a kiss to Jeno’s cheek. Jisung notices that Jaemin is dressed in the clothes he had so meticulously chosen the night before going to bed: his favorite white button down shirt and light wash jeans.
“Jaemin,” Mrs. Na scowls. “You know this boy?”
“Sure Mom. He’s a...friend,” he answers offhandedly.
Mrs. Na eyes Jeno with distrust. “Jaemin. I don't want you leaving this house,” she orders.
“Don't worry Mom. I’ll be fine.” He assures, pressing a kiss to his mother’s forehead. “I need to get out for a bit. I can't breathe in this house.”
Mrs. Na surveys the scene of boys and girls laughing and smoking cigarettes in the remaining cars and her frown deepens. “Who are all these people?”
“I don't know Mom. Friends, I guess,” he waves off as he hooks onto the crook of Jeno’s arm. “Don’t wait up. I’ll be back late tonight!” he shouts back before his mother can object and hops into the passenger seat of Jeno’s car.
“Wow. Way to make an escape, “ Renjun snorts. “Disrupting the whole neighborhood just for a coke date.”
“I can already hear our moms gossiping about it,” Donghyuck mumbles.
The unfolding scene before him sparks wonder in Jisung's mind. He sees Jaemin giving Jeno a peck on the lips and the action fills Jisung with something he can’t exactly put into words. He doesn’t know if it's excitement or satisfaction or pride because while everyone is surprised by this sudden turn of events that seemed to appear out of the blue, Jisung’s the only one who knew before everyone else.
It gives Jisung hope to know that love isn’t some concept that’s far outside his reach and being lived by people miles or even worlds away. It exists right across the street and he’s honored to be able to witness it grow right before his eyes. In his heart, he’s rooting for Jaemin and Jeno to make it.
“Don't get too excited, Jisung. It's not like they are gonna invite you to go with them,” Chenle taunts. The rest of the boys snicker before heading back to play their game.
Jisung lingers by the window for a bit longer as the cars head down the street and the sound of their engines disappear. If someday he could join Jaemin and Jeno in their escape from the world, he truly wouldn’t mind.
Jeno and Jaemin sit across from each other with an order of oysters, french fries and the promised cokes between them. The rest of Jeno’s friends have all scattered around the pier leaving the couple alone for some quality time together. Jaemin can feel remnants of a cool breeze brush against his skin from the ocean nearby. It’s been years since he’s come to the boardwalk- the last time being on his twelfth birthday to play carnival games with his friends and ride the ferris wheel with his first crush.
The atmosphere is different now, being older and being here with someone like Jeno who’s so much more than just a schoolboy crush. They’re out in public, without any parents around, on a date at an outdoor restaurant he’s never been to before.
Today, Jaemin’s doing lots of things he’s never done before- like actively going against his mother’s wishes and doing what he wants for a change. It's not like he can help it though. It's been a whole three days since he’s last seen or spoken to Jeno and nothing was gonna stop him from spending time with him.
“Alright. Here we go,” Jaemin reaches out for an oyster and pours a bit of hot sauce on top of it.
“Come on. Pour a little more.” Jeno urges.
“Fine,” Jaemin complies and adds several more dashes of hot sauce before tilting his head back and slurping up the oyster.
“There ya go, princess,” Jeno praises. “A little spice is good for stress.”
“So is this.” Jaemin lifts up the bottle of tequila wrapped in a paper bag to his lips and takes a heavy chug. The alcohol and hot sauce burn down his throat but he welcomes the slight discomfort. It's the first thing he’s felt in a while beside loneliness and yearning.
The sight of Jeno right in front of him looking so handsome in his white t-shirt and leather jacket is all Jaemin has been aching for the past few days. “Come here you,” he beckons the other with his finger. Jeno gladly leans in and gets lost in the sensation of exploring the depths of each other’s mouths.
“Damn,” Jeno gasps, slightly dazed when the blonde pulls away. “Here I thought you were a church boy.”
“Who said I wasn't?” Jaemin chuckles darkly.
“Could have fooled me,” Jeno counteracts. “Thought it was a sin or something to be kissing boys.”
“We’re progressive.” Jaemin shrugs. “At least my dad never said anything whenever I went on a date with a guy.”
Jeno raises his eyebrow. “I'm sensing there's a catch.”
“Well,” Jaemin looks down at the bottle in his hand. “I don't think my parents cared if I dated boys so long as I didn't fall in love with them. Ya know, as long as I end up with the wife and kids in the end then it doesn’t matter.”
“Is that why your mom looked at me like I was some hoodlum coming in to corrupt you?”
“Well it didn't help that you showed up with a whole gang behind you!” Jaemin playfully smacks his shoulder.
Jeno winces, feigning an injury. “Ouch. And here I thought a princess like you would appreciate a grand entrance.”
“You’re such an asshole,” Jaemin rolls his eyes but they laugh in goodnature together anyway until it naturally dies down. They munch on a few french fries and take turns passing the tequila bottle until Jaemin breaks the silence.
“I was waiting for you, ya know, ” he admits softly.
Jeno grimaces. “I’m sorry. I figured I’d give you some time.”
Jaemin snorts bitterly. “That’s funny. All I have is time. It's like time stopped.” He takes another chug of tequila. “Just... being in that house all alone with my mom? It's so horrible! It’s horrible that people you love can just die like that. It's like he disappeared or something.”
“But just ‘cause they’re gone doesn't mean you gotta stop loving them right?” Jeno disputes. “I mean, you never know. You might see him again someday.”
“And how would that happen?” Jaemin asks incredulously.
“On the other side!” Jeno concludes. “Just gotta keep your options open, right?”
Jaemin blankly stares at Jeno for a minute before breaking out into a wide grin. “Spewing out bullshit just to try to make me feel better, huh?” he giggles. “I like that about you.”
“Glad I can help, dollface,” Jeno winks.
“Well then,” Jaemin slams the bottle of hot sauce in front of Jeno. “Your turn now.”
And their date continues seamlessly throughout the evening. They walk along the ocean shore with their joined hands swinging back and forth, shoes removed and dangling off their unoccupied hands. They talk for hours about everything and anything- from childhood stories to neighborhood gossip.
It's the most carefree Jaemin has ever felt in his life- bare feet digging into the sand as he playfully runs away and Jeno chases behind him, catching up quickly and sending them both tumbling to the ground. The buzz from the alcohol, the smell of cigarettes and cologne emanating from Jeno’s jacket that had been so graciously wrapped around Jaemin’s shoulders, and the goosebumps from even the faintest touch had him reeling in adrenaline.
Time definitely did seem to stop but this time it was in Jaemin’s favor- like there was nothing that could come between him and his feelings for a handsome boy named Jeno; not his overbearing parents, not his nosy classmates and neighbors, not even his own insecurities.
They joke and laugh together in between fleeting kisses and longing stares into each other’s eyes. How Jaemin managed to survive three whole days without going insane from the lack of Jeno’s presence was truly a mystery, he thought.
Being here, in his arms, without a single care in the world besides each other made the sorrow in Jaemin’s heart dissipate, leaving room for new feelings: like understanding, security, trust and love. There was no way Jaemin would let him go now, and with the way that Jeno’s eyes light up just by looking at him, he’s certain the feeling is mutual.
So once the sky darkens significantly and the crowds of people dwindle away, they head underneath the boardwalk. Jaemin pushes Jeno against one of the pillars and presses their bodies so close together it's as if he’s trying to fuse their cells into one being.
Tonight, there’s no rush; so they take their time languidly making out, Jeno cradling Jaemin’s face between his hands and Jaemin’s fingers softly playing with the hair on the nape of Jeno’s neck. It feels right- encrypting the taste of Jeno’s lips into his memory along with the feeling of Jeno’s hands as they move down to grip his waist, the sound of ocean waves crashing against the shore playing around them.
Jaemin has been on many dates before, but none of them have been like today. No one has made him feel the way Jeno does. When they pull apart, softly panting with swollen lips and glassy eyes, Jaemin realizes that in the moonlight reflecting against the water, Jeno is everything he’s ever wished for.
“I think we’ve got a problem,” Jaemin whispers huskily.
Jeno gulps. “Yeah?”
“I don't think my mom is gonna be happy to see who I fell in love with in the end.”
Jeno feels his heart rate accelerate at the implication. “Who would that be?”
Jaemin doesn't answer with words. Instead, he steps back, shrugging off Jeno’s leather jacket from his shoulders before beginning to undo the buttons of his shirt. Jeno's eyes follow the motion carefully, and as more skin is revealed, the more eager he is to feel it beneath his fingertips. Jaemin discards the garment onto the sand before crowding back into Jeno’s personal space.
Their lips meet once more, and Jaemin groans when he feels Jeno’s solid hands firmly clutch his bare waist. His own hands sneak under Jeno’s t-shirt and he hums in appreciation when he feels the hard muscle underneath.
“Take this off,” Jaemin pleads, tugging at the hem of his shirt. They detach themselves briefly for Jeno to hastily remove the t-shirt before they glue themselves back to each other. What starts as a lazy makeout gradually escalates into something with a bit more urgency- heavy breaths, hungry tongues and greedy fingertips tracing each other's bodies. The idea of exploring each other from the inside out is new and exciting.
When Jaemin suddenly pulls back, Jeno is ready to complain from the loss, but then his brain short circuits as Jaemin gracefully drops to his knees right before him.
“Wait,” Jeno grabs at the hands that are trying to reach for his zipper in a brief moment of clarity. “Are you sure about this?”
Jaemin looks up at him with determined eyes. “This isn’t exactly my first time if that’s what you’re worried about,” he assures as his hands work to unclasp his belt buckle and undo the button. “I know what I want, Jeno. I want you to have me.” As his fingers grab hold of the zipper, he pauses and blinks up at Jeno. “Can I have you too, Jeno?”
“Yeah,” Jeno swallows, throat suddenly dry. “I’m all yours, dollface.”
With permission to continue, Jaemin finally tugs the other’s jeans down to his knees. He licks his lips, eyes transfixed on the bulge snug beneath black briefs. With just the slightest bit of pressure, his fingertips delicately brush over the material and the action makes Jeno’s body shudder, a wet patch starting to form at the front. Jaemin flashes a smug grin at the other’s reaction.
There’s this great sense of desire and agony laced in Jeno’s irises and having his undivided attention gives Jaemin another surge of confidence. He pulls down Jeno’s underwear and hungrily eyes the healthy erection in his face. Wrapping his fingers around it, he gives a few experimental pumps, finding himself pleased with its girth.
“Shit,” Jeno mutters from the sudden touch. “Jaemin.”
“Yes?” Jaemin tilts his head to the side, feigning innocence, as if he wasn't currently participating in such a vulgar act out in the open where anyone could come by and see them at any minute.
Jeno looks down at him with hooded eyes. “You look good, dollface.”
“Yeah?” Jaemins leans in closer and gives a lick to the tip. “You taste good.”
“Fuck,” Jeno’s hand instinctively grabs onto the back of Jaemin’s head, fingers digging into tufts of blonde hair. “You’re trying to drive me crazy, huh?”
Jaemin has the audacity to fucking giggle at how quickly Jeno succumbs to his touch. “We haven’t even started yet, babe.”
Jeno places his free hand under Jaemin’s chin and guides his face upward to look him in the eye. “Then what are you waiting for? You’ve mentioned you’re good at this. Show me how good you really are.”
The hunger laced in Jeno’s eyes is enough to make Jaemin eager to please so he leans forward, spitting on his cock and stroking up and down as it quickly fills up to full hardness. He gives the head a gentle suck before steadily taking in more in his mouth.
Above him, Jeno breathes heavily and the grip in Jaemin’s hair tightens. The feeling of Jaemin’s warm, wet mouth and the image of Jaemin with hollowed cheeks bobbing his head up and down his dick is the most beautiful sight Jeno’s ever witnessed. This is nowhere near his first time either, but never has he felt so overwhelmed by someone before. If he died right now, with the sexiest boy he’s ever seen nearly choking on his dick, he wouldn’t mind at all.
“Shit, shit hold on.” He suddenly pushes Jaemin away. “You’re gonna make me come.”
Jaemin looks up at him, nuzzling his cheek against his shaft as he bats his pretty long lashes. “But I want you to come,” he pouts.
“Trust me. I won’t have trouble with that. Just not yet.” Jeno pulls Jaemin up from the sand and gives him a quick peck. “You’re okay with us getting even closer, right?”
“Of course,” Jaemin’s eyes sparkle with excitement. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“We did have a lot to drink today,” Jeno reasons with slight concern.
Jaemin sighs dreamily, arms lacing around Jeno’s waist. “Who would’ve thought you’d be such a gentleman.”
“I try,” Jeno grins wryly.
“I love that about you,” Jaemin mouths against his neck “Always looking out for me. Makes me feel safe.”
“You d-deserve it,” Jeno’s breath hitches slightly as Jaemin nips away at his jawline, playfully taking a bite right under his ear. “You should always feel safe.”
“I feel the safest when I'm with you,” he looks Jeno directly in the eye. “So have your way with me.”
“Ok princess,” Jeno answers softly. “Anything you want.” They share a sloppy kiss, tongues dancing against each other until Jeno’s hands grab at Jaemin's sides and presses their hips snug against each other. The action makes them groan into each other's mouths. The friction of the denim against Jeno’s bare cock feels amazing but he craves to feel more, to see more.
Jeno quickly slides his pants the rest of the way down and kicks them aside before switching the positions so that Jaemin is against the pillar and Jeno’s chest is pressed against his back. Jaemin turns his head to the side, beckoning for Jeno’s lips. He indulges the younger boy as his hand reaches around to unbutton his jeans. Slowly, his lips migrate from plush pink lips to the back of his neck and down his spine, lowering himself as he pulls down the remainder of Jaemin’s clothing to his ankles.
“Come on,” Jaemin quickly steps out of them and kicks them away. “Don’t make me wait.”
It isn’t Jeno’s intention to leave the boy squirming with impatience but he can’t help but be mesmerized by the sight of Jaemin completely bare right before him, presenting himself with legs slightly spread apart, so ready and eager.
“You are so beautiful,” Jeno says as he kisses his way up Jaemin’s long legs, the dimples on his lower back, between his shoulder blades and back to his neck. “The most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen,” he mutters against his ear, wrapping an arm around his chest, his thumb grazing ever so slightly over a hardened nipple.
“Then touch me,” Jaemin whines. His whole body jerks when Jeno’s hand wraps around his dick, precum oozing out the tip.
“Look at you,” he chuckles with amusement. “So fucking sensitive.”
Jaemin throws his head back against Jeno’s shoulder. “I love your hands,” he admits unabashedly. “Wanna feel them in me.”
“Yeah?” Jeno’s eyes darken. “Then open up for me.” He brings his hand to Jaemin’s lips and he laps up the fingers in his mouth, coating them with copious amounts of saliva until Jeno pulls away and brings it over to his puckered hole. Jaemin tenses briefly at the intrusion but gradually he feels himself go pliant as he adjusts between one finger, two fingers, three fingers then four…
Jaemin wantonly moans, restlessness seeping through his skin. “Please. Please. Just put it in me,” he begs shamelessly.
“Anything for you, princess,” Jeno says hoarsely. He presses a firm kiss to his lips before pulling out his fingers and stepping back.
Jaemin’s panting heavily, body buzzing with anticipation and eagerness. The sudden lack of body heat makes him turn to look at Jeno, desperate for what’s to come. His eyes are glued to Jeno’s sculpted body as he picks up his pants and searches through the pockets. Jaemin is ready to make a fuss for having to wait, but then he notices Jeno pulling out a condom and the realization of what's about to ensue makes his cock twitch with renewed interest.
“Turn around and get on your knees. ” Jeno orders as he rolls the condom on himself. “Get me wet.”
Jaemin obeys, turning to face Jeno before kneeling and slicking up the rubber clad cock with his mouth. The action makes Jeno groan deep in his throat. His arousal makes him greedy, unable to wait any longer. “That’s enough. Come up here, princess.”
Jaemin scrambles up to his feet and lets himself get pinned, back against the pillar. “Finally gonna fuck me?” He asks between dirty kisses.
“Yeah,” Jeno replies hoarsely. “Just like in your fantasies,” he smirks.
Jaemin laughs breathily. “Just shut up and do it before I change my mind.”
The buildup has lead to this moment and he’s expecting it, yet somehow Jaemin’s still taken by surprise when he feels the tip of Jeno’s cock breach his hole. He gasps, going into sensory overload at the feeling of finally being stretched and filled.
Suddenly he regrets losing his virginity last year. If he had known that he’d meet someone like Jeno, he would have gladly saved himself for this very moment. It's too late for regrets though, so instead he focuses on the feeling of Jeno’s big hands firmly holding him from under his thighs, legs wrapped around his trim waist and the sound of Jeno’s heavy grunts by his ear as he slams into his thin frame over and over and over again.
“Fuck, Jaemin,” Jeno growls from deep in his chest. “You’re so tight.”
“I know,” he hiccups. “Need you to stretch me out baby. Make me loose, make me yours- fuck!” Jaemin lewdly cries out, eyes rolling back as Jeno thrusts increase in speed, riled up by Jaemin’s filthy mouth. He hangs around Jeno’s neck, fingers digging into his muscular back. Jeno’s hips falter when he feels the blonde clench around his shaft and he hastily reaches to stroke him in time with his thrusts in a desperate attempt to bring them both over the edge.
Neither of them are sure as to who finishes first but they both momentarily black out from the euphoria. When they come back down to earth, Jaemin keens from the over-stimulation as Jeno pulls out, legs giving out and collapsing onto the sand. In an instant they are back in each other’s arms, kisses full of satisfaction and eyes full of love and promise.
After that night, Jeno and Jaemin become inseparable. Jisung saw them everywhere together. At the bowling alley, Jaemin would hang around all day waiting for Jeno during his breaks until the end of his shift. Sometimes, Jeno and his friends would hang out at Jaemin’s house whenever his mom wasn't around. That didn't sit too well with the neighbors who were used to a more quiet environment.
Rumors started circulating around the neighborhood- that Jeno was a gang leader and he and his friends were juvenile delinquents in and out of jail. But Jisung didn't believe any of it nor did he care. He wanted them to be around forever. He was happy to just be a spectator of two people so madly in love.
His favorite moments were when Jeno would bring Jaemin back home late at night. They would park right in front, Jeno stepping out first and going around to the passenger side to open the door for Jaemin and walk him to his front porch. And then it was just them- Jeno and Jaemin kissing under the moonlight and Jisung perched by his bedroom window observing with innocent curiosity and fascination. Every now and then, Jaemin would spot him and they’d repeat the same action: a finger to the lips and their secret, which wasn’t much a secret anymore, was safe.
Jisung sat on his front doorstep with a cherry popsicle in hand. His mom had invited fellow housewives over for a ladies’ lunch while their husbands were all at work. If Jisung had woken up earlier, he would have been able to join his friends to go bike riding but he stayed up really late last night, attentively observing as Jaemin begrudgingly bid Jeno goodbye.
The memory of it seeped into his dreams where he was the one happy and in love. There wasn’t a face to his future partner yet, but it felt real all the same. It felt so real, in fact, that when he woke up, he couldn’t ignore the emptiness in his heart and the stray tear that fell out of his eye when those dreams simply drifted away into the clouds. It made it all the more difficult to get out of bed.
That brings him to the present, being the only child in a house full of his friends’ mothers. Jisung’s presence wasn’t really needed but he lingered nearby listening to their conversation out of sheer boredom.
“Well, did you try doing a handstand right after?” he hears Renjun’s mom, Mrs. Huang, ask.
“I don't think that's how it works,“ Jisung’s mom, Mrs. Park, sighs in defeat. “Maybe I'm just not ready to have another baby.”
“Don’t blame yourself sweetheart,” consoles Mrs. Lee, Donghyuck’s mother. “Maybe it's his plumbing that needs work, if you know what I mean.”
Just then, a familiar car comes racing through their street at high velocity capturing Jisung’s attention. As expected, it's Jeno stepping out of the vehicle and within seconds Jaemin is running out the house and jumping straight into his arms.
“If his jeans get any tighter, he’s gonna have to get them surgically removed,” Chenle’s mom, Mrs. Zhong, judges as the ladies also witness the scene through the window.
“Why don’t they just lay on the grass and get it over with?” Mrs. Huang remarks as they see Jaemin hanging off Jeno, hands pulling at his shirt in a rough manner.
“It’s just a phase, isn't it?” Mrs. Park suggests.
“Whatever it is he’s going through, I just hope my boy doesn’t catch it,” Mrs. Huang retorts.
Mrs. Lee on the other hand, lets out a dreamy sigh. “Don't you remember being young and in love like that?”
Mrs. Park blankly stares at the young couple in a passionate kiss. “Seems like forever ago,” she mumbles.
“Back seat of his Buick,” Mrs. Zhong recalls. “Radio playing in the background. Two beers in and smoke smoke smoke. “
“That was your first kiss?” Mrs. Huang guessed.
“You’re close,” Mrs Zhong grins mischievously. The housewives let out a scandalized shriek as they playfully smack her shoulder. Eventually their attention deviates from the young couple and back towards their forgotten card game.
Jisung, however, remains seated on the front porch unable to look away. He’s so transfixed that he doesn’t even notice his friends pulling up to his house and tossing their bikes on the front lawn.
“I bet they’re doing it.” Donghyuck comments as they all now observe the couple making out against the hood of Jeno’s car.
“Definitely,” Renjun agrees.
Jisung frowns, visibly confused. “Doing what?”
“Doing it,” Donghyuck repeats with emphasis. “Ya know. Banging. Screwing. Fucking. Sex.”
“Forget it,” Chenle snides. “He’s too young to understand.”
“No, I'm not,” Jisung argues back defensively. ”I know just as much as you do!”
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
“My parents do it on top of their heads!”
“No stupid,” Renjun snorted. “They lay down on the bed and the guy has to get on top of the girl. That’s how they have a baby.”
“Then what about when it's two guys doing it, huh?” Jisung snaps back. “Who goes on top then?”
Chenle gives a mischievous smirk. “Why don't you go over there and ask Jaemin? I’m sure he knows.”
“Yeah,” Donghyuck plays along. “Go ask him. Since you’re best friends and all.”
“I never said that,” Jisung denies. “And I’m not asking him anything.”
“Come on,” Chenle provokes. “Don't be such a baby.”
Jisungs instinctively steps back when he sees Chenle coming closer. “I’m not going over to ask him!” he shouts.
Chenle grabs his arms in an attempt to drag Jisung across the street, the sheer force of it causing him to drop his half eaten popsicle on the ground. Panic begins to set in and he does everything in his power to fight Chenle off but to no avail. Renjun and Donghyuck stand by laughing on the sidelines, clearly enjoying the struggle between the two younger boys.
Realizing that he can’t break free from the other’s grasp, Jisung resorts to his last shot at self defense. He raises his leg and swings as hard as he can towards Chenle’s crotch.
“Man, you knocked him out!” Renjun exclaims, mildly impressed as they watch Chenle doubled over on the ground, groaning in pain. Donghyuck even gives Jisung a high-five, filling him with a surge of pride, but it all melts away the second their mothers step out the house. Mrs. Park looks down at her son with a stern look on her face that tells him ‘Just wait until your father gets home.’
Sure enough, when his father arrives home from work in the evening, the three of them are gathered in the living room to presumably discuss Jisung’s punishment.
Mr. Park exhales heavily in frustration, pacing back and forth in an attempt to gather some patience. “I'm asking you one more time, Jisung. What happened with you and Chenle that made you start fighting?”
“We weren’t fighting,” he denies. “We were just messing around.”
“Really? Because that’s not what the Zhongs told me when they called earlier at work today.”
“Well. Maybe we argued a little bit,” Jisung sank deeper into the couch cushion under his father’s scrutinizing gaze. “But that's only because he was teasing me!”
“That doesn’t make it ok to hit someone, Jisung,” Mrs. Park calmly chastises beside him.
“I’m sorry,” he lowers his head. “It was an accident. I didn’t mean to.”
“I want you to go over to the Zhongs house tomorrow morning and apologize to him in person,” Mr. Park decides. “No son of mine is gonna have a reputation for being rude.”
“But that's not fair!” Jisung huffs in frustration. “Shouldn’t I get an apology too? He was making fun of me!”
“Perhaps. But you were the one who put his hands on him.”
“He grabbed me first!” He turns to his mother with pleading eyes. “It was self defense, I swear!”
His father, on the other hand, crosses his arms with finality. “I don't want to hear it, Jisung. You will go there and you will apologize.”
“M-maybe we should hear him out,” Mrs. Park interjects, softening at her son’s sincere defense. “He said it was an accident after all.”
Mr. Park indignantly looks down at his wife, rubbing his temples in irritation. “Don't start this again, dear,” he says calmly though his demeanor is clearly displeased. “You and I are supposed to be on the same team. It doesn’t help if you don't back me up with these decisions right in front of the boy.”
“Maybe you’re just too hard on him,” she retaliates. “You never listen to anyone but yourself.”
“Do you have a problem with how I’m running things around here?” his voice begins to raise. “Because last time I checked, I'm the one who’s paying all the bills and the mortgage for this house. Is it wrong that all I ask in return is for my wife’s support?!”
“That’s not all you ask for!” Mrs. Park rises from the couch, crossing her arms in defiance. “Maybe if you would just -“
“It was about sex!” Jisung blurts out as loud as he can in an attempt to stop the argument beginning to ensue.
Instantly his parents come to a halt in their dispute, both turning to give Jisung their full attention. “What did you just say?” Mr. Park asks in mild disbelief.
Jisung straightens up and looks up at his father. “The boys were saying that Jeno and Jaemin are doing it. Like banging. Screwing. Fucking. Having sex,” he echoes his friend’s words from earlier that day. “Then Chenle wanted me to go over and ask Jaemin who goes on top when it’s two guys doing it. I didn't want to, but he was forcing me!”
“That's enough,” Mr. Park dismisses. “This is not an appropriate conversation to have at your age.”
“Well who else am I gonna talk to about sex if you guys never even wanna bring it up?” Jisung asks. “Everyone else seems to know everything. I'm the only one who’s clueless!”
“Sweetie, are you actually curious about those kinds of things?” His mother asks carefully.
“I don't know,” Jisung shrugs, looking down at his lap as he mindlessly plays with a loose thread from his shorts. “I just hate being the only one left out.”
“All of this because of Jaemin and that boy he insists on dating,” Mr. Park sneers with disapproval. “Those two are setting a bad example around here.”
“No they’re not!” Jisung opposes. “They’re just in love!”
“You think that’s love?” His father jeers with disgust. “That's just Jaemin making bad decisions in response to his father passing.”
“But-“
“Enough!” Mrs. Park steps in between them. “It’s getting late. How about we all get ready for bed and we’ll talk tomorrow?” she bargains.
It's not a surprise to Jisung that his parents choose to just sweep everything under the rug. Still, he finds some comfort in his mother adjusting his bedsheets as he settles against his pillow. It’s not something she does often nowadays, so this detail holds more meaning- a small gesture to show her son she’s there for him even when she’s unable to defend him in face of his father.
“Mom,” he gets her attention as she drapes a blanket over him. “Do you and Dad love each other?”
Mrs. Park gives a tired smile, tucking the blanket snugly against his sides. “Of course we do.”
“Then how come I never see you guys kiss like Jaemin and Jeno?”
“Well…” she muses. “We used to. But things change over time.”
“How come?”
“We just got a little older is all,” she explains. “We have more burdens now. Like paying for the house and the cars and-“
“And me?” Jisung voices faintly.
“Oh sweetheart. You are most certainly not a burden,” she coos, gently stroking her son’s cheek. “Having you as my child is the greatest blessing I’ve ever received. For your father too.”
“So why are you and Dad trying to have another baby again?” Jisung questions. “Because you love each other?”
“Well...” she hesitates. “There are lots of reasons. But you don't need to worry about that. Just know that whatever happens, we love you very much.”
Things change after that day, and not for the better. Jaemin’s mom reached her limit and forbade Jaemin from seeing Jeno anymore. Despite this, Jeno drives to Jaemin’s house everyday in an attempt to bargain with Mrs. Na for a chance to at least talk to Jaemin but she doesn’t budge.
“It may seem like the end of the world right now, but it’s for your own good,” she insists. “You’ll understand once your mind is clear from this infatuation.” But her words don’t remedy Jaemin’s heart that breaks a little more each time he has to hopelessly watch from his bedroom window as a disheartened Jeno drives off without him.
Jisung feels the weight of the world resting on his guilty conscience. He feels responsible for Jaemin and Jeno’s separation. He feels responsible for the arguments between his parents which have now become a nightly occurrence. He feels uncomfortable in his own skin, hating the way his arms are too long and lanky and how his shaggy mess of brown hair annoyingly falls into his small eyes. He feels inadequate compared to his friends.
And as if he doesn't feel bad enough, Jisung is not only forced to apologize to Chenle, but is required to go to his birthday party as well.
Jisung tugs at his tie uncomfortably tucked beneath the collar of his button down shirt as he’s being led into Chenle’s basement to join the rest of the kids that have already arrived. He would have been more nervous at the prospect that this was his first boy-girl party without parents lingering around if he weren’t so annoyed by the fact that he was probably the youngest kid here, making him an easy target for people to pick on.
Most of the guests are classmates from their middle school. Jisung is technically now one of them, though he doesn’t start his first year until the fall. A lot of the kids here are his future peers, but he doesn’t really find the energy to try and get to know them just yet. Some of them he vaguely recognizes, like Donghyuck’s basketball teammate Yangyang, and Sungchan, who was Chenle’s science fair partner last semester. Renjun is by the punch bowl with Shotaro and Chenle’s cousin Hendery as they chat with Yeri and Wendy from their English class.
It wasn’t until this very moment that Jisung realized just how many friends Chenle now had outside their small circle. His birthday party last year was definitely not to this scale. That subtle wave of insecurity begins to resurface, suddenly making Jisung feel out of place at his own friend’s house despite having been here many times before.
“How about we play a game?” Jisung hears someone ask over the crowd.
“Sure,” Chenle agrees. “What should we play?”
“How about spin the bottle?” suggests one of the girls- Joy, he thinks, with a mischievous tone. Immediately all the guests excitedly voice their agreement, arranging themselves in a circle and grabbing an empty coke bottle for the middle.
Jisung, however, is frozen in place. He was not mentally prepared for this at all.
“What’s the matter?” Donghyuck nudges his shoulder. “You scared or something?”
“Is he even old enough to play?” Yangyang asks.
“Maybe you should sit this one since this is for mature people only,” Chenle teasingly suggests.
“Oh shut up. You’re not even that much older than him anyway,” another girl, Seulgi, tells him off. She turns to Jisung with a sweet smile. “Come on, cutie. You can sit next to me.”
Jisung squirms from his spot in the circle, his heart threatening to beat right out of his chest each time someone takes their turn. Everyone else seems so calm at the idea of kissing a random person in the room though, so he tries to regulate his heart rate with deep breaths.
“Don’t fret too much, hun,” Seulgi whispers beside him. “When it’s your turn, just count to five in your head and then it's all over.”
Jisung offers her a meek smile. He knows she’s just trying to comfort him, but that was easier said than done. Seulgi had probably already had her first kiss before. He most certainly didn’t expect to have his first kiss wearing a tie with his shirt tucked in and a party hat on his head in a basement with over ten other people watching him.
“Your turn, Jisung!” Renjun announces.
Now all expectant eyes are on Jisung, so he scoots closer to the middle and puts his hand on the bottle. With a heavy exhale, he spins the bottle, immediately squeezing his eyes shut as he waits for the sound of the bottle turning against the wooden floor to stop. Once it does, he slowly opens them and glances towards the direction in which the bottle points. At seeing who is chosen, his heart sinks to the pit of his stomach.
“Would ya look at that! It's the birthday boy’s dream come true,” Donghyuck snickers.
“Shut up. No it’s not,” Chenle snarls at him.
“Um, I can just spin again?” Jisung offers timidly.
“No way!” Joy interjects. “The bottle landed on Chenle so that’s who you have to kiss.”
“It's part of the rules,” Wendy agrees.
Chenle dramatically groans, visibly making an effort to look as annoyed as possible by the turn of events. “Fine. Let’s get this over with,” he scoots in closer to Jisung in the middle. The kids around them start cheering them on in encouragement. Jisung can practically feel his face turning red from all the attention.
“Close your eyes. I’ll lead,” Chenle says softly to him. Jisung finds no reason to refuse, so he closes his eyes and slightly puckers his lips in expectation.
“Open your mouth so I can tongue you,” Chenle requests and again, there’s no real reason to refuse so he does just that. He can hear his blood stream roaring through his ears from the sensation of Chenle’s body heat getting closer to him. All at once, he feels something wet and almost slimy slip into his mouth. Is this...is this what it feels like to have someone’s tongue in his mouth? It didn’t feel like the right size, and with the sounds of giggling increasing around him…
Jisung’s eyes shoot wide open, spitting out whatever is in his mouth- a frog, he realizes in horror. He springs up from the ground, ripping off the party hat from his head and running up the stairs and out the door, ignoring Chenle’s parents' looks of confusion as he sprints all the way back home.
Jaemin is lying beside his mother on the living room couch as they silently watch a movie, same as they have every night. She claims it's to establish some bonding time. He thinks it's to make it easier to keep an eye on him. Either way, this mundane routine has him feeling trapped, eyes repeatedly darting over to the window.
“What if I go to the convenience store and get us some popcorn?” he suggests.
“That's a great idea,” his mother agrees, getting up to grab her purse. “I’ll go with you.”
Jaemin groans in frustration, throwing his head back against the couch. “You can't keep doing this, Mom. You can't just keep me here like some prisoner.”
“You’re not a prisoner Jaemin. You’re simply grounded,” Mrs. Na states matter-of-factly.
Jaemin scoffs. “What for? Because I fell in love with Jeno?”
“Because of your reckless behavior,” she corrects. “Breaking curfew, neglecting your chores, even missing church,” Mrs. Na scowls. “You were never this away until that delinquent came along.”
Jaemin glares daggers at his mother. “That ‘delinquent’ is my boyfriend and I love him.”
Mrs. Na tiredly sighs, tossing her purse on the coffee table, and dropping down next to her son. She reaches for one of his hands, gently caressing his knuckles with her thumb. “Listen to me, Jaemin,” she begins, voice serious. “Your father and I never questioned your choices when it came to your dating life because we trust you to make good decisions. We appreciate the fact that you’ve always been so open with us which is why we’ve never opposed you going on dates with other boys.”
“Then why are you so adamant on me not seeing Jeno?“ he genuinely asks. “He makes me happier than I’ve ever felt in my whole life. Don’t you want that for me?”
“Of course I want you to be happy!” she instantly agrees. “But you have to think of the future, Jaemin. Someone like Jeno could never give you what you want.”
Jaemin frowns. “Do you even know what I want?”
“I know you want to make your father happy,” Mrs. Na confidently claims. “And you know very well he wouldn’t approve of this boy.”
“That’s a low blow,” he snatches his hand out of his mother’s grasp. “You can't just bring up Dad whenever you want to make me feel guilty. You know I love him!”
“I’m not saying this for my own benefit. I say this because it's the truth and you know it!” Her voice begins to escalate. “You want to date boys? Fine. Get it out of your system. But we know what's best for you. That's why we want you to meet a nice girl and eventually settle down!” She looks her son directly in the eye, voice lowered with warning. “A boy can never give you a family.”
Jaemin’s breathing becomes labored, pent up anger finally bursting through the seams of the carefully constructed facade he’s built over the years. “What good is a family if they won't love you unconditionally?” Jaemin tightens his jaw. “You only love me when I'm playing the part of a perfect son who bends to your every command and I’m sick of it!”
His entire life, Jaemin admired his mother for being the loving backbone to their family through her patience, and being the perfect supportive companion to his father. For as long as he can remember, he has been told that he is the splitting image of his mother: bright brown eyes, the same slope of her nose, the blonde waves cascading down her back, the natural charm and the captivating smile.
At this moment though, he can hardly recognize the woman in front of him: the furrowed brows of disappointment, her condescending tone and her deceiving touch. This isn’t the mother he grew up with.
“I’m outta here,” he announces, turning towards the front door, grabbing a jacket from the coat rack on his way out.
“Don't you dare think of leaving,” his mother follows after him.
“Watch me!” he explicitly defies. He is so ready to tell her off, to run off into the night and find refuge in Jeno, someone who loves him for who he truly is. But the sound of someone violently coughing makes him stop dead in his tracks, derailing his surge of rebellion.
“What’s going on?” His mother catches on, now beside him.
Jaemin squints. “It's the kid who lives across the street. I think he’s puking or something,” He turns to his mother. “I'm gonna go make sure he’s ok. I’m allowed to do that at least, right?”
“Don’t get fresh with me, boy,” she angrily points her finger at him. “You may check on the boy. But I expect you to come right back home afterwards. Got it?”
“Whatever.”Jaemin mutters, before running across the street to find Jisung who is spitting out grotesquely onto his front lawn. “You okay there, Park?” he carefully asks.
“I hate him.” Jisung growls, chest heaving as he coughs. “I hate him, I hate him, I hate him, I hate him,” he repeats like a mantra.
“Oh. One of those, huh?” Jaemin acknowledges sympathetically. He reaches for Jisung’s arm, pulling him up off the grass. “Come on. Let's get you cleaned up.”
“I mean it. I really hate him. He put a frog in my mouth!” Jisung exclaims with disdain. “I never want to see him again!”
“Oh, to be young again,” Jaemin muses out loud as they enter Jisung’s house and navigate towards the bathroom. “Ya know, boys do this sort of thing when they don't know how to tell someone they like them.”
“Yeah, right,” Jisung mumbles around a mouthful of toothpaste. The grip on his toothbrush is tighter than necessary as he scrubs every inch of his mouth.
Behind him, Jaemin is casually leaning against the door, watching with perceptive eyes and a humored smirk. “When they like you, they gotta do something to drive you crazy. In their minds, it's the only way to get your attention.”
Jisung spits into the sink before turning to look at Jaemin incredulously. “You don’t know Chenle like I do,” he disputes, pushing past the older boy. “He's more the type who would rather rub my face in dirt than kiss it.”
“Don't be so sure,” he follows Jisung’s lead to the kitchen. “When I was your age, a boy named Yuta put a rat down my shirt.”
“Gross!” Jisung wrinkles his nose in disgust. “Did it bite you?”
“No. The rat was dead. But then six months later, Yuta gave me my first kiss.” Jaemin laughs, dampening a paper towel under the sink. “Sit here. You missed a few spots.”
Jisung hops onto the kitchen island, legs swinging back and forth as he lets Jaemin wipe off some remaining toothpaste from his face and dirt from his hands. “I’d rather kiss the dead rat than kiss Chenle,” he mutters dejectedly.
“That’s what we all say at first,” Jaemin says knowingly. It felt like just yesterday when he was Jisung’s age, mentally plotting a million different ways to kill Yuta as payback for all the anguish he put him through: the dead rat down his shirt, the bubble gum in his hair, the worms snuck into his sandwich. That first kiss changed him though, made him realize things he’d never understood before.
“It's ok, ya know.” Jaemin says, suddenly seriously.
“Huh?”
“A boy liking you,” Jaemin clarifies. “If you liked him back, then that’d be perfectly okay.”
Jisung innocently tilts his head to the side, mind racing with all kinds of scenarios. Can he picture himself liking Chenle? Loving Chenle? Can he picture himself loving anyone? It’s hard to say. He knows it’s something he would like someday, but with who? That’s all up in the air.
“I thought I was gonna have my first kiss tonight,” he sadly recalls. “It didn’t even matter if the bottle landed on a boy or girl. I was willing to try it either way.”
Jaemin feels his heart clench, understanding how Jisung visibly mopes, head drooping, staring intently at his dirty dress shoes. Jisung’s deflated stance was far too familiar, mirroring his own from years ago.
“Sorry you had a shitty night.” Jaemin searches through the fridge, pulling out a carton of chocolate milk. “A cutie like you doesn’t deserve a frog in his mouth,” he adds, offering the milk as an incentive to smile.
“Thanks,” Jisung blushes, accepting the drink. He removes the plastic wrapping from the straw with his teeth, puncturing a hole at the top and taking a sip. “I’m sorry you can’t see Jeno anymore,” he mumbles around the straw.
Jaemin gives him a tired grin, hand reaching out to ruffle the younger boy’s mop of hair. “Thanks, Park.”
The sound of the phone ringing breaks up the atmosphere and Jisung’s expression drops exponentially. “Oh no. That's probably Chenle’s parents,” he panics. “I'm not going back there. You can't make me!”
“Ok! Relax!” Jaemin grabs his shoulders, shaking some sense into him. “No one is making you go back!”
“I’ll have to! I'm not allowed to stay at home by myself at night!” Jisung explains with dismay. ”Unless… someone is here to watch me?” he blinks up at Jaemin expectantly.
“Oh uh. I’m not sure about that, Park,” Jaemin hesitates. “My mom is expecting me home any minute.”
“Then call her and tell you’re taking care of me ‘cause I'm sick or something,” Jisung proposes. “She can’t get mad at you for that!”
“Then what? I stay here until your parents get here?” Jaemin shakes his head. “You're nice and everything but I’m not really the babysitting type.”
Jisung visibly deflates. Just the thought of having to go back to the party and face all those kids, especially Chenle, made him queasy. He racks his mind up for any ideas to avoid that situation at all costs. It’s not like Jaemin is itching to go back home with his mom anyway. And there is one person he knows he’d love to see…
“You can tell your mom we’ll be here at my house but we don't actually have to be here.” he pointedly suggests.
Jaemin furrows his brows in confusion. “What are you trying to say?”
“We can go see Jeno!” Jisung brightly reveals. “Your mom won’t be breathing down your back if she thinks you’re with me.”
“What about your parents?” Jaemin crosses his arm, noticeably unconvinced by the idea.
“My parents went out to the city to see some boring play with my aunt and uncle so they won’t be back until really late. You just gotta call Chenle’s parents and let them know you’re with me so they don’t tell my parents. It’s perfect!”
Jaemin silently contemplates Jisung’s plan. He really does want to see Jeno more than anything else, even if he has to bring a kid along with him. It seems like ages have gone by since he’s felt his touch and the yearning in soul was beginning to feel unbearable.
“...How are we supposed to get there, though?”
Jisung hops off the counter, snatching a pair of keys off the hook by the back door before dragging Jaemin behind him. “You can drive, right?” He asks as he guides the older boy through a side door towards the garage. He flicks the light switch, revealing the final puzzle piece to his grand scheme. “We can take my mom’s car!”
Jaemin peers over at Jisung’s look of accomplishment, truly dumbfounded. “Who taught you to be this sneaky, huh?”
“No one. I don’t usually do things like this but you helped me, so now I wanna help you.” Jisung admits honestly. ”This is the only way I know how.”
“Well, in that case,” Jaemin’s eyes ignited with mischief, “Go upstairs and change into something more comfortable. We got a long night ahead of us.”
Not even in his wildest dreams did Jisung think he would find himself in a situation like this- sitting in the front seat of his mother’s car wearing Jaemin’s leather jacket, which is actually Jeno’s jacket, with Jaemin behind the wheel as they escape into the night. He’s seen Jaemin and Jeno drive off into the darkness towards their own adventures away from the world many times. But tonight?
It’s finally Jisung’s turn.
“I like your bracelet,“ Jisung points to the leather strap around Jaemin’s wrist.
“Jeno gave it to me at the end of our first date,” he recounts, fingers fiddling with the lit cigarette in his hand. “He’s had it since he was a kid.”
“Wow,” Jisung whistles, impressed. “Jeno must really love you if he gave you something so important to him.”
“He does,” Jaemin dreamily exhales. “He says he’s been with a lot of people before me but none of them ever felt right. I'm the only one.”
“And you believe him?”
“Of course,” Jaemin answers with confidence. “I can see it in his eyes. I can tell nobody ever really loved him before me. I knew it the moment we met that we’d be together forever.”
“But who told you?”
“Nobody tells you,” Jaemin giggles. “You just feel it. It's like being on fire and your body is burning from the inside out. And your heart beats so fast it feels like it's gonna burst,” he brings his cigarette to his lips, breathing in before releasing a cloud of smoke around them. He crossly apologizes when Jisung starts coughing, opening his window to let the smoke air out.
“You can’t focus on anything or anyone else around but them because when it comes to love, it's addicting and nothing else matters in the world,” he proceeds, tossing his cigarette out the window. “Love is the greatest feeling in the world if you find the right person to share it with. And I have. Jeno is my person to love.”
“I knew it!” Jisung gleefully exclaims. “Love sounds great. I wish I’d been in love a thousand times by now!”
Jaemin laughs airily, wind blowing through his hair, foot heavy on the gas pedal and thoroughly amused by the enthusiastic kid beside him. “Don't rush it, Park. Just know that when your time comes, you’ll know.”
Jaemin hops out the car, eyes thoroughly scanning the pier. He had tried calling Jeno earlier but he wasn’t at the bowling alley and his roommate said that he hadn’t seen him at home in a few days so this is naturally the only other place he could possibly be.
It takes several minutes of scouring over the area but when he spots a familiar head of brown hair and broad shoulders hunched over a table playing a game of chess, the adrenaline kicks in. “Jeno!” He calls out, completely unapologetic at interrupting the game as he rushes towards him.
“Jaemin?” Jeno’s eyes widened in disbelief. He jumps out of his seat, ignoring the way his opponent complains due to his sudden departure. “What the hell are you doing here?!” He welcomes the boy in his arms, latching onto each other with utter relief. They had been apart for a full week now and never had Jaemin lips tasted as good as they did at that moment.
“I just had to come see you, Jeno. Didn’t you miss me?”
“Of course I missed you,” he confesses between kisses. “God, I was ready to just bust down your door! We can't have her keep doing this to us.”
“Believe me, baby, I hate it too but you know how it is. Now that my dad isn't here she’s just so scared and lonely. I just know she might do something really crazy and snap if I don’t listen to her.”
“I know, I know..” Jeno mutters against his lips. “I just can’t believe you’re actually here right now.”
“Me neither,” Jaemin shudders at the feeling of Jeno’s mouth hotly trailing down his neck. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
“Yeah?“ Jeno lightly bites at his pulse point. “I thought about you too, dollface. Thought about you in my arms, how good you look pressed down against my sheets.” He presses their hips together, the subtle stiffness between his legs becoming apparent. “How about we go to my car, hmm? Fuck you silly in the backseat?”
Jaemin loops his arms around Jeno’s neck, looking up at him with doe eyes and jutted lips. “Here I thought I was more than just a good time in bed,” he pouts.
“You are,” Jeno affirms, Jaemin’s face between his hands, foreheads pressed together and sincere eyes boring into the other’s soul. “You’re bold and smart and funny and brave and just… you’re everything to me.”
“Now that’s what I like to hear,” Jaemin giggles, pressing a chaste kiss to the other’s lips. “God, you’re such a sap.”
“Maybe. But you love me for it,” Jeno beams.
“Yeah. I do love you,” Jaemin whispers as he brings their lips back together because lord knows that his only means of survival is being surrounded by Jeno’s comforting scent and addicting taste.
“My offer for the backseat still stands,” Jeno reminds the other when they separate, eyes blown wide with needy desperation.
Jaemin chuckles at the enthusiasm, gently pushing back Jeno’s hair away from his eyes. “Not that I wouldn’t love to get wrecked by you tonight but I’ve got a bit of a situation on my hands.”
Jeno searches the other’s expression for any indication that he’s joking, but finds nothing but brown eyes silently begging for forgiveness. “...How exactly did you get out of the house tonight?” he belatedly asks.
“You won’t believe who our hero of the night is,” Jaemin laughs airily, grabbing Jeno’s hand and pulling him down the pier. He retells the events prior to arriving as they walk over to Jisung’s mom’s car. Once near, Jaemin taps on the window three times consecutively. Recognizing the signal, Jisung peaks out from the blanket he was hiding under and steps out of the car.
“You ok?” Jaemin checks in.
“I’m great!” Jisung bounces with excitement. He skips directly in front of Jeno with an extended hand. “Hi! I'm Jisung. I kissed a frog today.”
Jeno chokes out a laugh at the other’s whimsical introduction. “Hi. I’m Jeno, your biggest fan,“ he grabs the smaller hand in a firm handshake. “Can I interest you in a milkshake?”
Oh, Jisung is very interested in having a milkshake past his bedtime. In fact, Jisung is interested in over half the items on the menu. Jeno didn’t seem bothered at all whenever he ordered more honey bbq wings or requested a refill for his chocolate milkshake, so Jisung stuffs himself with no restraint. The way Jeno greeted the owner with familiarity must mean he’s got some connections. It would explain how they were allowed inside this rowdy dive bar in the first place, huddled into a booth in the back, all under the age of twenty-one.
“You got it all wrong, Jeno,” Jisung frantically clarifies with a mouthful of cheese fries. “The neighbors don’t all hate you. Donghyuck and Chenle’s moms think you’re like a James Dean type: good looking but misunderstood. People just think that Jaemin is young and going through a phase is all.”
“Oh yeah?” Jaemin slurs, slightly tipsy after chugging down his third beer. “Well, you tell them that Romeo and Juliet- weren’t they thirteen or some shit like that?” he turns to Jeno.
“No, no, no,” Jeno wraps an arm around Jaemin, pulling him in closer to his chest. “What you gotta tell them is to mind their own business,” he points at Jisung. “Especially your old man,” he grumbles under his breath as he lights up.
Upon hearing this, Jisung visibly pales. “My dad?” he croaks. “What he do?”
“It's nothing, Jisung,” Jaemin dismisses, snatching the freshly lit cigarette between Jeno’s lips to his own. “Don’t worry about it.”
Jisung frowns, disheartened. “Please don’t do that.”
“Do what?” Jaemin mumbles around the cigarette.
“Don’t brush me off like I’m some dumb kid,” he scowls. “Tell me what my Dad did. I can take it.”
“I’m sorry, Park. I don’t think you’re dumb at all,” Jaemin apologizes, passing the cigarette back to Jeno. “Your dad just said some stuff to my mom about me being a bad example to the kids in the neighborhood. It’s no big deal, really. I mean, it's not like I care about what everyone thinks.”
The words are supposed to ease Jisung’s worries, but the underlying guilt he’s felt the past week comes back full force. He didn’t know his fight with Chenle had indirectly caused the sudden separation between Jeno and Jaemin. When did his dad even go talk to Mrs. Na? Was it that same night? If only he had-
“Forget about all that, Park,” Jaemin cuts through his thoughts. “Finish your food so we can go have some real fun, yeah?” he suggests with a dangerous glint to his eyes. And just like that, Jisung obeys, as if nothing was ever wrong in the first place.
Jisung didn’t think that places like this actually existed outside the movies. He was familiar with the boardwalk during the day, full of families running around between restaurants and arcades. There were always kids tossing chunks of bread to feed the seagulls and vendors selling everything from sunglasses to snow cones.
Underneath the boardwalk at night, however, was a completely different story. It was scattered with strangers, all young with a sort of agitation vibrating through their bones as they gathered around the bonfire, smoking cigarette after cigarette and passing around liquor bottles. There were couples of all kinds making out: boys with boys, girls with girls, boys and girls alike. It was most definitely not a place for kids or families.
Jeno said there was nothing to be afraid of but Jisung was scared.
“Relax, Park. No one is gonna hurt you. Jeno here will protect us.” Jaemin drapes himself across Jeno’s back, swaying to a nonexistent song playing only in his mind.
This must be what they usually do when they disappear, Jisung realizes. Everyone here greeted them by name when they arrived, and Jaemin had effortlessly blended into the crowd, so obviously familiar with this scene as he allowed himself to let loose. Jeno never strays too far away, always keeping a watchful eye over the other, making sure Jaemin doesn’t overdo it with the beer and catching him if he stumbles.
“How are all these people out so late?” Jisung wonders out loud. “Aren’t they afraid of getting in trouble with their parents?”
“Not all of us got what you have,” Jeno discloses. “Some parents are too hard on them and some parents just stopped giving a damn. Shoot, some of them just disappear.”
“Oh,” Jisung utters sadly. He can't even begin to imagine what it's like to wake up and find yourself alone. His parents may argue and disregard his opinion but at least they were a constant in his life. But if they suddenly disappeared from his life, would Jisung feel the need to act out? Maybe he throw out everything he thought he knew and chase after this feeling of belonging somewhere, against society’s judgements. Maybe he would become one of them.
“Is that why you’re all here?” he asks Jeno. “To be with each other?”
“Something like that,” Jeno grunts, adjusting Jaemin’s weight on his back.
“Mmm baby. You’re so strong,” Jaemin seductively purrs into his ear. “Just want you to throw me down and have your way with me.”
Jisung’s face reddened at the crewd words coming out of Jaemin’s mouth. Jeno notices this, and decides to take pity on the poor kid. “Grab a few water bottles from that cooler, will ya? I know something else fun we can do.”
Jisung sits on the hood of Jeno’s car parked directly on the sand of a more secluded part of the beach, pleasantly watching Jeno and Jaemin pressed together, dancing underneath a full moon. This scene is also like the movies, though Jisung enjoys this one a lot more than the one under the boardwalk. Here, he can breathe clearly and observe the couple with unhinged admiration and no distractions.
It's just the three of them on the beach accompanied by the gentle waves that crash against the shore and the music blasting from the car. He rests his back on the hood and gazes up at the stars. Jisung has never been in love but at that moment he thinks he understands Jaemin when he says that love is like burning from the inside out. He loves his new friends Jeno and Jaemin.
“Jisung,” he hears someone call.
He sits up, slightly startled to see Jeno in front of him with an outstretched hand. “What?” he blinks in bewilderment.
“You wanna dance?”
“Me?” He points to himself in disbelief. “What about Jaemin?” he turns to peer over at Jaemin who is fixing his hair in the side view mirror. Jaemin catches him looking and laughs.
“Go ahead. I don't mind letting you borrow Jeno for a bit. My feet need a break anyway.”
“Come on,” Jeno encourages. “It’ll be fun.”
Jisung hesitates before deciding to accept the offer and allows himself to be pulled away to the sand. The blue light of the moon reflects off of Jeno’s handsome features, looking down at him with kind eyes and a reassuring smile. Jisung gulps. He can see why Jaemin has fallen so hard for someone like him.
“There’s nothing to be nervous about,” Jeno calmly assures.
“It's just,” Jisung’s voice breaks, giving away his nerves. “I've never danced with a boy before.”
“You don't say?” Jeno smirks playfully.
“I haven't really danced with anyone,” Jisung begins to ramble. “Except this one time when I was seven and my mom forced me to dance with Ningning from down the street at some wedding. I accidentally stepped on her foot and she cried. She moved away after that. My mom says it was because her dad got a new job but I secretly think it's because she still hated me. I don’t blame her. I mean-“
“Jisung. Breathe,” Jeno cuts him off, laughter bubbling up in his chest. “You don’t have to dance if you don’t want to.”
“No!” Jisung immediately protests when he notices Jeno begin to step back. “I mean. Yes. I want to dance,” he shyly admits.
“Great,” Jeno smiles wide. “Here,” he directs Jisung’s left hand to rest on his shoulder and the other intertwined with his own. Jeno carefully places his right hand against Jisung’s waist. “This okay?” he asks, to which the other nods. “Alright. Now just follow my lead.”
They begin to sway side to side to a slow song playing on the radio. Love songs aren’t unfamiliar to Jisung given how often he hears his mother singing along to many of them during the day while she prepares dinner or folds the laundry. The lyrics to this song in particular are all about a man who falls head over heels for a woman upon first sight. It reminds him of how easily Jaemin and Jeno got along when they first met at the bowling alley, and how Jaemin told him that from that moment, he was certain that they were meant for each other.
Jisung wondered if anyone would feel about him the way Jeno and Jaemin felt about each other.
Suddenly he feels himself lose his balance on an uneven patch of sand, fumbling slightly, but Jeno is there to catch him. “It's ok,” Jeno firmly grasps his forearms. “Don’t overthink it. Just follow the music.”
And soon enough they fall into a steady rhythm, the song moving in time with the beat of Jisung’s heart. His nerves have dissipated into the salty air, settling into the calm flow of his blood running through his veins. This must be what inner peace feels like.
“You’re a fast learner,” Jeno notes. “A total natural.”
“I don't know about that,” Jisung mumbles bashfully.
“I mean it! You’re gonna be a hot commodity when you start going to school dances.”
“I don't think I’d be brave enough to actually ask someone to go with me,” Jeno admits, face pressing against the other’s chest to hide his flushed appearance. “Besides. I doubt anyone will ask me. Chenle says my head is too big for anyone to like me.”
Jeno chuckles. “Sounds to me Iike he’s just afraid of the competition.”
They continue to slow dance as another song begins, even successfully doing a couple spins. Jeno notices that Jisung’s grin widens, visibly enjoying himself. It’s nice to see the kid up close, bundled up in an oversized leather jacket that he vaguely recognizes as his own and openly having fun instead of hiding away in the shadows. Jisung’s quite insightful for someone his age but the way his mind wanders leaves Jeno wondering what exactly goes through the kid’s mind.
“You mind telling me something?”
“Sure,” Jisung looks up at him. ”What is it?”
“Why are you so interested in me and Jaemin?” He asks with genuine curiosity. “Watching us through your window, helping him sneak out to see me tonight... Why do you do it?”
“It’s because I believe in you guys,” Jisung explains. “I’ve never known what it’s like to be loved, but by watching you guys, I think I'm starting to get it.”
On hearing this, Jeno frowns. “But you are loved, Jisung,” he points out. “You’ve got your friends and your family.”
“Friends don’t make fun of you or slip frogs into your mouth. And my family doesn’t care what I think or how I feel,” Jisung sulks. “I’m just a dumb kid to everyone.”
“Well, that’s not what I think,” Jeno decides. “You're a bright kid. Makes me wish I had a younger brother like you.”
Jisung blushes at the compliment, looking back down at their feet, unable to look Jeno in the eye.
“Hope you don't mind but I was getting kinda lonely,” Jaemin cuts in. He embraces Jeno from behind and Jeno turns his head to look at the blonde over his shoulder. They exchange a look of mutual adulation, leaning in to share a gentle kiss.
“You can have him back,” Jisung lets go of the other’s hands, reluctantly putting himself back into his place: a measly audience member looking from the outside in.
“I have an idea,” Jeno proposes after noticing the other’s fallen expression. “One more fun thing you can do to always remember this night.”
And that's how Jisung found himself in a recording booth, starting with venting his frustrations to re-telling the story of the best night of his life. Jaemin promises they’ll bury their records in a time capsule and open them up together in thirty years.
Shaggy brown hair pops out the hastily worn pajama top, stray flyaways all in disarray. “I’ve got it all figured out,” Jisung recounts animatedly as Jaemin smooths down his hair back into place. “You guys could run away together! To Hawaii or Tahiti or the Carribean. I've got lots of maps that can help!”
“Get in bed already, would you?” Jaemin chastises playfully. “I think all the excitement has gone to your head.” He pulls the covers over Jisung, gently patting them down as he reaches to turn off the lamp. At noticing a familiar bottle of lotion on the bedside table, he pauses. “That's the same brand I use,” he points out.
“Oh, um. My mom got me that,” Jisung looks away, embarrassed.
“Yeah?” Jaemin raises a brow skeptically, nodding over at the record player in the corner. “Did your mom also get you my favorite album?”
“My mom just has good taste.” Jisung shrugs with feigned nonchalance.
“She’s got good taste in curtains too. Look just like mine. “Jaemin walks over to the window, taking a peek through the blinds. “You’ve got a good view of my bedroom from here.”
“I swear I’ve never seen you naked!” Jisung sits up, panicked. “I just. I think you’re really cool,” he admits faintly.
“I figured as much,” Jaemin chuckles. He aimlessly continues to look around the room, deep in thought as he studies the family pictures on Jisung’s dresser.
“Hey, Jaemin?”
“Yeah?” he idly acknowledges, eyes still glued to the family portraits.
“What people say about Jeno being a gang leader and having been in jail... Is any of that true?”
Jaemin turns to see Jisung anxiously fiddling with the edge of his blanket. “Not at all,” he responds, taking a seat by the foot of the bed. “He’s just... made a few wrong turns is all.”
“Does that make you a right turn?”
“I’d hope so. I'm all he’s got really. His friends come and go and he’s got a step brother who lives on the west coast but for the most part, he’s on his own,“ Jaemin divulges solemnly. “If Jeno had died before he ever met me, he would have never been loved by anyone. You need someone to love you to keep your spirit alive after you die.”
“Oh,” Jisung stills, letting this new bit of information sink in. “...Do you think my baby brother’s spirit is alive?”
Jaemin frowns, taken aback by the sudden revelation. “You have a brother?”
“I did. But he had trouble breathing or something,” Jisung reveals. “They say he never cried or anything. I didn't get to meet him. My parents didn't even let me go to the funeral.”
Jaemin vaguely remembers his parents mentioning Mrs. Park being pregnant more than a year ago. He had even helped his mother pick out a gift for her to take the baby shower. But at the time, Jaemin had been so wrapped up in his own world, selfishly indulging himself in drinking at house parties and casual sex to escape his overbearing parents’ expectations, he barely even noticed how the Parks weren’t at church for over three months, or how when they returned it was still only three instead of a family of four.
Losing a member of the family is never easy as he’s come to know. Jaemin can’t even imagine feeling like Jisung, never getting a proper chance to say goodbye to his own brother, an opportunity that Jisung would have appreciated whilst Jaemin just carelessly threw it away by pretending to be sick on the day of the funeral to sneak out to a party instead. He’s ashamed for not noticing, for not being there for Jisung sooner.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” He moves up the bed to sit beside him, cradling the kid in his arms with remorse. “I’m certain your brother’s spirit is alive. You’ve got more than enough love to keep the whole world spinning.”
“You mean that?” Jisung asks softly, voice muffled against Jaemin’s chest.
“Definitely. You're a good kid. The best there is. That's why you’re my friend.”
Jisung smiles so wide his cheeks feel like they might burst. He is actually friends with Jaemin Na! Tightening his grip on Jaemin’s shirt, Jisung allows himself to bask in this moment of feeling respected, understood and noticed for the first time in his life. Even if Jaemin never talked to him again after tonight, he was satisfied with being able to experience this feeling just this once. Just this night.
Upon hearing Jisung’s parents pull up into the driveway, Jaemin releases his hold on Jisung. “That’s my cue to leave,” he says as he turns off the lamp by the bed. “And remember. Not a word to anyone about tonight. Got it?”
“I won’t say a word!” Jisung vows, eyes sparkling through the dark with promise.
The moment Jisung wakes up the next morning, he’s met with this eerie feeling of surreal memories, like he’s been teleported back home after being away in an alternate universe. He’s almost convinced that everything that happened the night before was all a dream, until he spots the leather jacket hanging on the chair by his desk.
All at once, he’s filled with giddiness as he jumps out the bed and rushes to the bathroom to shower and get ready for the day. Riding this wave of adrenaline, Jisung slips on his sneakers, grabbing his self-made record and the leather jacket before heading out across the street to knock on Jaemin’s door.
“Hey, Park,” Jaemin greets him kindly though he’s still in pajamas and his hair is slightly disheveled. His voice is scratchy, like he had just woken up despite it being almost noon. “What can I do for ya?”
“I brought your jacket,” he holds out the garment towards the other.
“Thanks,” Jaemin accepts it in his hands. He notices the way Jisung is fidgeting in place, clearly holding something else behind him but hesitant to speak. “Anything else?” he asks humorously.
“Um. I was thinking maybe we could bury our records today?” Jisung nervously asks, revealing the record from behind his back.
“I’m sorry. I don’t think today’s a good day,” Jaemin replies apologetically.
“Oh,” Jisung pouts, shoulders dropping.
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Jaemin quickly adds at noticing the other’s discouragement. “I woke up a bit nauseous is all.” He takes a quick glance into the house for any sign of his mother before stepping out the front door and quietly closing it behind him. “I'm still a bit hungover from last night.“ he explains in a hushed tone.
“Oh. Right.” Jisung puts a hand over his own stomach, feeling the uneasiness from the disappointment stir up. “I think I’m hungover too.”
“I’m sure you are,” Jaemin rolls his eyes playfully.
Jisung lingers around awkwardly, knowing there was no reason to stay but still unwilling to leave. “Well... I hope you feel better. Drink lots of ginger ale,” he grins weakly before turning to walk away.
“Jisung, wait,” he hears Jaemin call out to him. He spins instantly on his feet, skipping back to the front porch right in front of Jaemin. “Yes?” he blinks hopefully.
“You wouldn’t mind doing me a favor, would you?”
“Sure!” Jisung perks up. “What do you need?”
Jaemin leans in closer, voice barely above a whisper in case of his mother eavesdropping nearby. “I need you to tell Jeno that I'm sick today, but tomorrow at midnight, I promise to meet him at our usual spot. I’d tell him myself but I'm not allowed to use the phone.”
Jisung thinks it over briefly. He remembers his mother explicitly telling his father to keep the phone line clear as she was awaiting a phone call from her doctor, so asking for Jeno’s phone number was out of the question. It was a Saturday though, so Jeno was probably at work at the bowling alley. He just needed to find a way to get there...
“Ok,” he agrees willingly. “I’ll do it. You can count on me!”
“No doubt about that,” Jaemin smiles, charmed by the kid’s honest desire to help him out. Part of him felt guilty for requesting yet another favor from Jisung, while the other part of him was simply grateful for knowing that someone was on his side and rooting for his happiness. “Park,” he calls out once more as Jisung makes his way down the front steps. He turns, eyes wide with anticipation, ready to take in Jaemin’s words like they were the law.
“Here,” he tosses the leather jacket back to Jisung, “Keep it.”
Jisung’s hands clumsily fumble to catch the jacket without dropping the record on the ground. “Really?” his eyes light up.
“Think of it as a thank you gift,” Jaemin winks. “It looks way better on you anyway.”
“Didn’t you say that you never wanted to bowl again?” Mr. Park recalls as they enter the bowling alley.
“I’ve been practicing!”
“You practiced bowling?” his dad asks, slightly suspicious.
“Yeah,” Jisung laughs, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “In my room. I used my action figures as bowling pins and everything.”
“Well, alright,” Mr. Park fondly shakes his head at his son. He reaches into his wallet and pulls out a few bills. “How about you go to the concession stand and order whatever snacks you want while I wait in line for the shoes?”
“No!” Jisung blurts, promptly clearing his throat to compose himself from the sudden outburst when his father gives him a cross look from the unexpected setback. “I mean. No. I just wanna stay here with you,” he innocently blinks up at him as they take their place in line. The closer they get to the service counter, the easier it is for Jisung to spot Jeno at his usual place behind the register, charming the customers with his trademark eye smile and flattering comments.
Memories from last night resurface- Jeno carrying a staggering Jaemin to his mom’s car, driving him and Jisung back home while his friend followed behind in Jeno’s car so Jaemin wouldn’t be driving under the influence no matter how much he insisted he had sobered up.
The way he gently wiped away at the tears streaming down Jaemin’s face as they kissed goodbye with promises to never be apart for so long ever again. The feeling of Jeno holding Jisung in a tight embrace, thanking him from the bottom of his heart for bringing him and Jaemin back together again.
Knowing he was appreciated for his help made Jisung all the more determined to continue with the task at hand.
“Jisung! Hey!” Jeno enthusiastically greets him with instant recognition. This makes Mr. Park grimaced, putting a protective arm around Jisung and pulling him closer to his side. “Size 11 and a size 5.” He coldly requests, slamming his money on the counter.
“Of course. Just a moment,” Jeno retreats to the shelves briefly before presenting their shoes on the counter. “Enjoy your game,” he says in as best a friendly tone as he can.
Jisung huffs his cheeks in frustration as his dad drags him away and towards one of the lanes. Clearly he didn’t really think this through. All he needed was one minute alone with Jeno and away from his dad to pass on Jaemin’s message. He looks down at the bowling shoes and immediately conjures up a plan.
“I don't think these are the right shoes for me,” Jisung speaks up.
“What? Of course they are. You're a size 5,” his father insists.
“But they’re not the right color.”
“Don't be ridiculous. It doesn't matter what color they are so long as they fit.”
“Yes it does!” Jisung stubbornly protests. “Red shoes make me sick! Remember when I used to get a bloody nose all the time? It was because of red shoes!”
“Alright, fine!” his father relents without much resistance. “Just come back quickly.”
Jisung beams in victory and immediately dashes over to the service counter. “Jaemin is sick!” he announces, unceremoniously smacking both hands on the counter.
Jeno, as well as the customer he was currently helping, startle at the sudden intrusion. Jeno gives an apologetic smile to the lady juggling four kids, handing over their shoes before turning to give Jisung his attention. “You’re gonna scare off all my customers, kid,” he jokingly scolds.
“Sorry,“ Jisung sheepishly apologizes, retracting his hands from the counter. “Jaemin just really wanted me to tell you that he can’t make it tonight because he’s sick.”
Jeno’s expression instantly morphs from playfulness to concern. “Is he alright?”
“He just woke up feeling nauseous. Said something about still being hung from last night?”
Jeno stifles a laugh from the younger boy’s choice of words. “You mean hungover,” he corrects. “I had a feeling this would happen.”
“He promises to see you tomorrow though!” Jisung adds excitedly. “Midnight at your usual spot. He’ll meet you there.”
Jeno folds his arms against his chest, looking down at the kid with bemusement. “Did you really come all the way to the bowling alley -with your dad of all people- just to tell me this?”
“Well, yeah,” Jisung says like it was obvious. “It was the only way.”
Jeno shakes his head in mild disbelief. “You're something else, kid,” he remarks. “Come here,” he unfolds his arms to pull Jisung behind the counter and into a warm hug. “Now go back to your dad before he blows his top,” he ruffles his mop top before shooing him away from the counter.
Jisung gleefully skips over back to the lane with his father, feet lighter and mood visibly improved at being able to accomplish his mission. He starts humming along to a song playing from the jukebox- a tune he recognizes as one of the songs he danced along to with Jeno last night- as he slips on his bowling shoes, blissfully unaware of the disapproving glare from his father.
“I thought red shoes make you sick?”
Jisung stills, belatedly realizing he forgot to switch his shoes. “Um. I-It's actually blue shoes that make me sick,” he stammers. “My mistake.”
“I see,” Mr. Park idly replies, eyes narrowed at Jeno before looking down at his son. “How do you know him so well?”
Jisung gulps, preening under his father’s intense gaze. “Just. Ya know. From getting shoes.”
“Well, I don't want you around him anymore,” he orders sternly. “No son of mine is hanging around that punk.”
“He’s not a punk,” Jisung defends. “He’s really nice and polite and smart! Jaemin told me he’s even gonna study to be an electrician!”
Mr. Park scoffs. “Jaemin doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
“Yes, he does!” Jisung argues back. “They’re still in love. I know it!”
“You think Jaemin knows about love? He is only seventeen. He’s bound to come to his senses sooner or later.”
“So?! Romeo and Juliet met when they were thirteen!”
“That’s a made up story,” Mr. Park dismisses.
“Then what about you and mom or Donghyuck’s parents, huh?” Jisung counteracts. “You all met in high school and you’re still married!”
“That's different, Jisung. A man and a woman can get married but two boys can't.”
“Well, why not?” Jisung asks, eyes beginning to glisten. ”They’re just as in love as any other couple out there!“
“Listen to me, son.” His father crouches to look him in the eye, hand placed on his shoulder. “All I'm trying to tell you is that I want you to be more careful with who you talk to. If you hang around their kind too much, you might start thinking like they do.”
At this, Jisung erupts, forcefully shoving away at the heavy hand on his shoulder. “Maybe you’re the one who should be careful!!”
“Jisung. Calm down. You’re causing a scene.” Mr. Park pleads between his teeth as people around them start to look their way.
“No! It's all your fault! Why did you have to stop them?!”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“Why do you have to make everyone's life miserable? What did they ever do to you?” Jisung continues to explode, his ears deaf to his father’s voice. “You’re the one who doesn't know anything about love! You just know how to make it go away!”
Jeno carefully watches the whole scene unfold, Jisung running off towards the exit and his dad left behind with a stunned expression. Responsibility weighs heavy on his shoulders, so he hops over the counter and out the door, rushing after the kid with tear-stained eyes and naive faith. “Jisung!” he calls out.
At hearing the familiar voice, Jisung halts, slowly turning around to look at Jeno with red eyes and quivering lips. “Jesus, kid. Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Jeno asks as soon as he catches up to him.
“Away from that monster,” Jisung hiccups.
“Hey, now,“ Jeno crouches down, pulling out a handkerchief from his back pocket to carefully wipe away the snot running from Jisung’s nose. “Your dad isn’t exactly my favorite person either but you really shouldn’t talk about him like that.”
“Why not?!” Jisung croaks. “He thinks he knows everything! He came between you and Jaemin! And he’s always treating me like a dumb kid who doesn't know anything!”
“I know you’re not dumb, but there’s still a lot about life that you need to learn,” Jeno tries to rationalize. “Like maybe you shouldn’t sell your dad short. I mean, at least he’s still around, right? That must count for something.”
“I doubt he’ll be around for much longer,” Jisung sadly confesses between sniffles, trying his best to keep his tears at bay.
“Why do you say that?”
“They argue all the time. My dad gets mad at every single little thing I do and if Mom tries to defend me, he gets mad at her even more! He’s working longer hours at the office now but my mom isn't exactly super excited when he comes home,” Jisung’s voice cracks, another influx of tears threatening to spill over. “Whenever Jaemin sees you, he runs straight into your arms and you’re both so happy and always kissing and holding each other. It's not like that with Mom and Dad. I don't remember them ever being like that.”
“Hey there. Don’t cry, alright? I’m right here,” Jeno consoles, reaching out to cradle the boy in his arms, hands soothingly rubbing his back to get him to relax. “I know it seems bad right now, but things will get better. I know it. Your parents may not be like me and Jaemin, but they have something we don’t. And that’s you,” he squeezes just a bit tighter to emphasize his point. “Things are different when kids are involved. Everything they go through, even all the bad stuff, is all for you. And because they love you, it’s worth it. Love is always worth fighting for.”
“If they love me so much then why are they so desperate to have another baby, huh?” Jisung questions, resentment muffled against Jeno’s shoulder.
“I...don’t know,” Jeno answers truthfully. “Just know that your parents could have ten other kids, but none of them will ever be like you,” he pulls back, poking the tip of Jisung’s nose. “You’re the best kid out there.”
Jisung breathes out a weak laugh, tips of his ears warming up. “Jaemin said the same thing.”
“And he’s never wrong,” Jeno beams. “Makes me wish I was a kid like you.”
“I hate being a kid,” Jisung bemoans. “I wish I was grown up already like you are.”
“Being grown up isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Trust me.” Jeno takes a quick glance back at the alley entrance and notices Mr. Park standing there, hawk eyes carefully watching over them. As much as he’d like to watch over the kid and care for his well-being, Jeno knows the consequences would be detrimental in the long run and he’d never want to purposely endanger Jisung’s home life. “How about this?” he negotiates. “You can be mad at your dad all you want but at least let him take you home.”
“Do I have to?” Jisung sulks. “Can't I just stay here with you?”
“I think we’ve ticked off your old man enough today. Plus I still gotta work for a few more hours.'' Jeno straightens up, placing both his hands on Jisung’s shoulders. “Promise me something alright? Go home with your dad so I know you’re safe. Lock yourself in your room if you want but just don't go running around the streets by yourself. Got it?”
Jisung sticks out his pinky and they seal their promise.
“What’s going on?” Mrs. Park asks with concern as she eyes Jisung stomping his way up the stairs and her husband heading straight to the kitchen.
“Your son is acting up. That’s what going on,” he angrily snaps as he pulls out a bottle of whiskey from the freezer.
“Our son,” she corrects as she trails behind him. “Did something happen at the bowling alley?”
“All I did was warn him about hanging around people like Jaemin and that hooligan he’s so crazy about, ” Mr. Park rambles as he searches the coverts for a shot glass. “The only reason I spoke with Mrs. Na about Jaemin’s situation is because I know it's what her husband would have wanted. Is that so wrong?”
“Of course not,” Mrs. Park stands behind him, massaging his shoulders to help alleviate some of the tension. “You’re just looking out for them the same way you look out for us.”
“You know what he said to me?” he implores as he pours himself a hefty shot. “He started shouting some nonsense about how I don't know anything about love! Can you believe that?”
He raises the glass to his lips, but at noting his wife’s silence and the way her arms fall from his shoulders, he pauses, putting the glass back against the counter and turning around. Mrs. Park stands with her arms wrapped around herself, eyes turned away from him. “Did you hear what I said?” he frowns.
“Yes, I did,” she affirms. “And maybe...maybe he’s not wrong,” she answers truthfully but timidly.
His frown deepens. “What do you mean by that?”
“Maybe you don't know about love,” she asserts herself, looking up to meet her husband’s gaze. ”Did you ever stop to think that maybe I don't want to have another baby? Maybe it's too soon. I mean, it’s only been a year since we lost him!” she clamors, voice edged with built up resentment and sorrow. “Or maybe I just can't get pregnant! Even the doctor told me today there’s a good chance I won’t naturally conceive again! But you keep putting all this pressure on me and I don't know if I can do it anymore!”
Upstairs, Jisung sits by the stairwell and overhears his mother’s sobbing and his father’s futile attempts at consoling her until it becomes too much to bear and locks himself in his room just like he had promised Jeno. He lays under the covers, pillow pressed over his head as he desperately tries to convince himself that Jeno is right. If love truly is worth fighting for and his parents really love him, then everything will be alright. He can only hope so.
‘When did everything get so complicated?’ Jaemin wonders as he listens to the laughter of the neighborhood children all playing in the street right outside his window. Just a few years ago, he was one of them- spending his summers playing baseball in the street, riding bikes around the block and sitting on the edge of the sidewalk with his friends eating ice cream. It’s hard to pinpoint when the shift from innocent kid to conflicted young adult happens, but now that he’s living it, he can’t seem to escape it no matter what choices he makes.
Jaemin thinks of the visit from the priest that morning, only faintly recalling his lecture on what true love is really meant to be like: a happy union between a man and a woman. It’s almost funny how he naively believed that he grew up in an environment that claimed to love everyone with open arms, but still drilled these ancient ideologies like they were the only right way to live life.
Jaemin thinks of the photo albums that he and his mother flipped through together after lunch- pictures that carried all the good memories he holds dearly of their family: his first birthday party, the time he won first place at the school’s spelling bee in fifth grade, the first time he sat behind the wheel to get his first driving lesson, the first time he went to the prom. His parents were present through all of it, always cheering him on and ready to help him navigate towards the next stage of his life. His father especially, without fail, treated him with respect and affection- always found reasons to be proud of Jaemin even when he couldn’t find them himself.
Amidst the praise and adulation, though, came the pressure of having to follow in his father’s footsteps and live the life that they had mapped out for him- the pressure to remain a golden child for everyone to marvel at like he was some trophy to display on their living room shelf.
Jaemin thinks of what his dad would really think of Jeno, of how he would react if they ever met. He’d like to believe that they’d get along, that his father would see how happy Jeno makes him and welcome him into the family with open arms.
Deep down, though, Jaemin knows those fantasies are a futile attempt at avoiding the truth. Judging by his mother’s reaction, there’s no doubt that his father would share her exact sentiment. The thought of being frowned upon by his father breaks his heart more than he realized was possible.
And then there’s Jeno, who’s always at the forefront of his thoughts. Jeno- the man he fell in love with at first sight, who quietly allows Jaemin to fall apart when grief overwhelms him, and knows him so well from the inside out that he can confidently mend the pieces of his heart back together again.
There isn’t a doubt in Jaemin’s mind that he will feel this way about Jeno for the rest of his life. But what guarantee was there that Jeno would be able to do the same for him? What if, somewhere down the line, Jeno found someone better or simply gets bored and effortlessly walks out of his life?
Jaemin desperately wants to believe that all they’ll ever need to survive is each other, but is he really willing to choose the love of a man he's known for a few weeks over his family who he’s loved his whole life? They’ve always been there for him. They’ve always had his best interest at heart. And what if they were actually right about Jeno being nothing but a phase? Could he really be happier with a wife and kids of his own?
Jaemin’s torn between the love he has for his family and his love for Jeno.
For now, though, it’s easier to find refuge in Jeno’s strong arms and warm smile than to tolerate the suffocation he feels at home, the tension between him and his mother and the disconnect from every lecture given by his priest.
So maybe everyone else thought Jaemin had moved on- that he had finally come to his senses and forgotten about Jeno. While part of him continued to love his parents and wanted to appease them, a greater part of him wouldn’t allow himself to give up what he had built with Jeno. So every night at midnight, no matter how tired he felt or how heavy the rain poured down, Jaemin would sneak out of the house to go be with Jeno because love is worth fighting for. No one else but he and Jeno had to know.
Except, of course, Jisung, who continues to watch over him like a guardian angel.
“Fuck,” Jeno grits through his teeth as Jaemin grinds his hips in small circles on his lap. “So good. Always so fucking good.”
“I know,” Jaemin smirks down at him, hands pressed onto Jeno’s firm chest as leverage. With strained legs, he slowly lifts himself up before sinking back down on the throbbing cock inside him. “God,” he throws his head back, basking in the feeling of being stretched to his limit. “You’re so deep in me, baby. Can’t get enough of it.”
The image of Jeno splayed out underneath him, the prominent lines of his abs contracting each time their hips meet, emitting the most delicious, deep groans spurs him on. Jaemin rides him with vigor, reveling in the slick slide of the pulsating thickness disappearing in and out of him and the impending bruises being formed from Jeno’s solid hold around his waist.
The blunt head of his cock teases over Jaemin’s prostate, and he tries and tries to find the right angle to make himself see stars until he can’t anymore, elbows locking as his energy drains. “Please, help me,” Jaemin begs so prettily. “I need you.”
Jeno’s grip migrates from his waist to his ass, hands spreading the cheeks apart while he anchors his feet on the mattress. The sudden force of Jeno’s thrusts throw Jaemin off balance, dropping down against his chest as his body gets thoroughly abused by his boyfriend’s pistoning hips.
Labored breathing and erratic movements indicate Jeno’s incoming release so Jaemin clenches around his shaft to stimulate him even further. But even in this primal state of intense pleasure, Jeno is a gentleman who refuses to selfishly chase after his own means without fully satisfying his partner first, so he rolls them over, wrapping Jaemin’s legs around his waist and pinning Jaemin’s wrists on either side of his head, leaning down to bite down on a hardened nipple.
Jaemin mewls at the action, eyes rolling back from being manhandled, mind swimming as every nerve in his body is buzzing with oversensitivity. The ruthless momentum of Jeno’s cock plunging so far into his body, the resounding slapping of sweat slick skin drowning out the noise of the TV still playing in the living room, and the possessive growl Jeno spews as he bites down on his collarbone are more than enough to propel Jaemin into another universe. He chokes on his own spit, back arching up off the mattress as he blissfully empties out between their stomachs. It’s like he’s ascending amidst the planets, feeling floaty and so thoroughly elated, but the weight of Jeno’s solid body keeps him rooted on earth, bringing his focus back to the task at hand.
“Come on, baby. Fill me up,” he urges, hot breath brushing against Jeno’s lips, losing the feeling in his fingers from Jeno’s tight clutch around his wrists. They meet in a sloppy mess of tongues dancing around each other rather than a proper kiss, but it’s okay because Jaemin likes it messy, relishes in the taste of ashy mint and drool running down his chin. “Wanna feel your cum leaking out of me for days.”
Jaemin likes it even more when he can witness the exact moment Jeno’s face contorts from determined and overzealous to overwhelmed and finally sated. It’s the way the veins of his arms bulge from the immense strength put into holding himself up, the guttural moan that rips through throat as he spills deep into the tight vice of Jaemin’s warmth, and the way his hips stutter out of his control that does it for him. It satisfies him to no end to know that only he can render Jeno to this state of complete euphoria. He doesn’t even mind getting the breath knocked out of him when Jeno finally collapses right on top of him, utterly spent.
“Holy shit,” Jeno mutters, settling his head against Jaemin’s chest as he tries to catch his breath. “You’re unbelievable.”
Jaemin chuckles breathlessly, numb fingers combing through the matted mess of damp hair from the other’s forehead. “You were alright, I guess,” he playfully taunts.
“Just alright?” Jeno huffs indignantly, looking up with mild offense. He’s fully aware that the other is messing with him, riling him up in ways only he’s capable of doing yet he willingly allows himself to fall right into his trap, acting on his competitive nature to prove this claim false.
Jeno shifts his weight to the side onto his forearm, the other hand reaching down to pull out as agonizingly slow as possible. Jaemin hisses from the sensation, slight ache steadily creeping through his limp body. Despite it being his request, he still blushes when he takes a peak at the mess pooling out of him, the cool air greeting his gaping hole. But he doesn't have time to miss the feeling of being filled as Jeno swiftly inserts two fingers inside him, pushing the cum back in.
“Your body tells me otherwise,” Jeno smirks up at him when Jaemin lets out a pathetic whimper from the sudden intrusion.
“Stop,” he weakly bats away at the hand inside him, preening from the overstimulation. “Too much.”
Jeno’s expression softens, instantly entranced by the big wet eyes glistening against the dim light of the lamp perched on his bedside table, blonde hair splayed out like a halo against his pillowcase and red swollen lips parted and panting. “Whatever you say, princess,” he complies, removing his fingers and moving up to press a gentle kiss on his damp forehead. He reaches for a discarded shirt on the ground beside the bed and wipes them both down before pulling a blanket over them and finding purchase beside Jaemin’s frame.
They lay on their sides, facing each other as Jaemin silently admires Jeno’s chiseled features up close. The other is as equally bewitched, eyes colored pink with love and Jaemin swallows, feeling more exposed now than he was just moments ago writhing underneath him.
“We could have been born thousands of miles apart. Spoken different languages. Never even met,” Jaemin muses out loud. “I could’ve ended up marrying a girl from church, given my mom the grandkids she’s always wanted.”
“What’s this all about?” Jeno glowers, displeased with the image being conjured up in his mind. “You trying to break up or something?”
“No! Of course not. I would never do that to you,” Jaemin assures, scooting in even closer to kiss away the worried frown. “Nothing else matters, right Jeno? Not our family, not our friends... Nothing but us?”
“You got that right, dollface.” Jeno concurs whole-heartedly. “Nothing else matters but you and me.”
Jaemin allows himself to melt under Jeno’s touch, at the way he tucks his hair behind his ear, the warmth of his hand nestled against the side of his face as they lose themselves in languid kisses. “Why do I always wanna be near you?” Jeno questions out loud, more to himself than at Jaemin. “Something about being this close to you... I just wanna be like this all the time. Here, with you looking so beautiful in my bed.”
“Me too,” Jaemin grins bashfully as he presses his face further into the pillow, suddenly shy. “I love being in your bed.”
“I mean it, Jaemin. I can't stand not being with you.” Jeno admits in earnest. “You gotta tell your mom that we’re still seeing each other.”
At this, Jaemin's face falls. “What’s wrong with the way things are now?” he asks, panicked. “As long as I follow what my mom says and keep up my studies with the priest then she won’t suspect anything anymore and I still get to see you. Everyone’s happy this way.”
“Are you happy? Because I’m not,” Jeno moves to sit up straight, blanket pooling around his waist as rubs at his temples in frustration. “Sneaking around for a few hours at a time just for you to run back there and pretend to live your life like we aren’t a thing? It’s not enough for me, dollface. I want you here by my side all the time!”
“I want that too Jeno, but I can’t.” Jaemin tears up against the pillow. “I can’t do it.”
“What’s it gonna take, huh? Do I gotta put on a pretty dress and a wig? Change my name and hope she doesn't recognize me?” he furiously questions. “This is such bullshit, Jaemin!”
“You think I don’t know that?” Jaemin says. “I just know that if I tell her about us still being together then I’ll lose what’s left of my family and I’m not ready for that.”
“Are you ready to lose me?” Jeno asks, voice threatening low.
“No! I don’t want to lose you either!” Jaemin chokes between sobs. “I’m just so scared, ok?! I mean, what if everything goes wrong?”
“What’s there to be scared of?” Jeno hovers over him, gently stroking down the blonde strands of hair disheveled from rubbing against the cotton pillowcase. “It’s not like we’re kids anymore. If she doesn’t accept you the way you are, then fuck it. I’m here to rescue you. We can go live a life of our own far away from here. Run off to Mexico and live off margaritas or something. Just the two of us.”
“But what... what if everything changes?” Jaemin looks up at him, wet eyes drowning with doubt. “I mean, people just stop loving each other all the time. What if you just stop loving me or find someone better? Then what happens?”
“Don’t even joke about that,” Jeno rebuts sternly. “I’d never do anything like that. It’s physically impossible for me to not be in love with you.”
Jaemin rolls over to face the opposite direction, a blanket snug over his body as if to protect himself from the outside world. “That’s what you say now,” he says between sniffs. “But then you’ll just end up breaking up with me in a few years.”
Jeno climbs out the bed, pulling on his underwear before crossing over to Jaemin’s side of the bed, kneeling on the ground in front of him, right in his line of vision. “What do I gotta do to make you believe me, huh?” he pleads. “I have nothing else to offer you but my word. I’m never gonna let you go, ya hear me? Never.”
“How are you so certain, Jeno?” He asks one more time. “How can you possibly know that we’ll be together forever?”
“You just gotta have faith, dollface,” Jeno declares. “I won’t ever give up on us.”
Jaemin searches the other’s face for any sign of uncertainty, of deceit or reluctance, but is met with nothing but sincerity seeping through soft eyes begging for his consensus.
“I believe you,” he mutters softly. “Just give me a little more time, ok? I’ll tell her. I promise.”
And because Jeno would do anything to appease this boy, he agrees.
Sunday night dinners haven’t had that same sense of comfort since his dad passed away. Tonight, however, the atmosphere is more uneasy than usual. Instead of forced small talk, there’s nothing but the sound of silverware briefly scraping against porcelain plates. The shift in ambience was nearly deafening as the growing tension filled the air around them, making it difficult for Jaemin to not want to curl in on himself.
His mother had been acting strange all day after having a private talk with their priest at the end of his sermon at church. This looming feeling of uncertainty weighed heavy on his conscience, fear seeping through his pores and rendering him immobile. The suspense has been building up, finally boiling over to this moment as she slides a pamphlet across the table in front of him, her expression forlorn but certain.
“Boarding school?” Jaemin asks incredulously, bewildered.
“Believe me, Jaemin. This isn't an easy decision for me to make, but I fear that there are too many distractions here. At this school, you’ll be able to straighten up your priorities and focus on your future.”
“I’m not distracted!” he argues. “What’s wrong with my school now? The teachers all love me. My grades are top notch. My friends are all here! I’m doing just fine!”
“You’re not distracted?” Mrs. Na narrows her eyes. “Well, I checked your room last night.”
Jaemin instantly stiffens, looking directly at his mother sitting up straight in her seat with perfect posture, the food on her plate untouched.
“I checked it the night before, too and the night before that. Every night for the past two weeks actually. But you were never there.” she recounts. “I may be getting older, Jaemin, but I’m not stupid. We both know who you're with every night.”
“I can’t believe this,” Jaemin mutters, stunned. “You hate the idea of me being with Jeno so much that you'd rather just get rid of me? Send me to some Christian boarding school to forget him?”
“Please don’t make this harder than it has to be,” she sighs, visibly drained. “Father Kim is taking care of all the preparations. You just need to start packing. You leave on Tuesday.”
“Just like that? You’re making me leave against my will with no concern over what I want?”
“Jaemin Na!” she bursts, no longer able to keep up with her dignified facade. “You are seventeen years old and as long as you are under my care you will do as I say! You are going to this school and that’s final!”
“This isn't fair, Mom!“ Jaemin cries. “Dad would never let you do this to me!”
“You think your father would sit back and let you throw your life away for some hoodlum?! You need to wake up, Jaemin!”
“No,” he whispers with dread. “I need to talk to him. I need him,” he mutters to himself as he gets up from the table and heads for the phone.
“No you don’t,” Mrs. Na follows after him, yanking the phone out of his hands. “You don’t need him.”
“I can't just disappear, Mom! It's not fair to him!”
“You wanna talk about fair?” His mother asks. “You think it's fair that your dad is dead? You think it's fair I've lost my husband and now I'm losing my only child?”
“You don't have to lose me,” Jaemin says between sobs. “We can still be together as a family. Just let me be in love with Jeno and everything will be fine!”
“Don't you get it?! You will never be happy with someone like him! You can't get married. You can't have children. People will look at you with disgust and judge you for your lifestyle. You would never be happy living like that!”
“Let them judge me! I don’t care. I take dick up the ass and I love it!”
Jaemin’s face whips to the side, hearing the piercing sound of his mother’s slap before he feels it stinging on his cheek. “How dare you say such vulgar things in my house,” she sneers. “This is why you need to go. You need to get rid of these filthy desires and cleanse your mind. You are not in love.”
“How can you even say that?”
“Because you're seventeen,” she emphasizes. “This is all a phase! You think you’ll be happy being with a high school dropout who works at a bowling alley for the rest of your life?!“
“You can't judge him like that. Jeno has plans for the future and I'm in those plans!”
“Jaemin, please,” his mother pleads. “You are young and beautiful and smart. You’ve got so much potential for the future. Don't you want to at least try and see what you’re truly capable of?”
Jaemin shakes his head, inching away from the woman he doesn’t recognize anymore. “I won’t go. I won’t let him go,” he whispers. “I have to go see him,” he says as he attempts to head for the front door.
“No!” Mrs. Na grabs at his arm to prevent him from running out, pinning him against the wall. “Don’t forget that you’re still considered a minor. If you go back to that boy then I’ll call the police and have him behind bars so fast it’ll make your head spin.”
“You can’t do that,” Jaemin croaks.
“I can and I will,” she threatens. “So let’s make this easy. You pack your bags and go to this new school like a good son and I won’t call the police.”
“...Ok,” Jaemin stops fighting against his mother’s hold on him, giving in with defeat. “I’ll go.”
She searches his face for further resistance before letting go. “I know I seem like the bad guy right now, but believe me- you’ll be thanking me in the future,” she says.
Jaemin remains silent, flinching when his mother tries to envelop him in her arms. Mrs. Na sighs, her heart breaking as her son cowers in her presence. “If you really loved each other, you’d let him go,” she says softly. “And If he really loved you, then he wouldn’t try to hold you back. He’d be happy to see you at your best. Don't you deserve that?”
The sound of thunder awakes Jisung from his slumber. He catches sight of the lightning reflecting from outside accompanied by the sound of raindrops slamming against his window sill. He tries falling back to sleep, wrapping the blanket around him tighter and adjusting his position but a blinking light from outside keeps getting in his eyes. Tiredly, he drags himself out of bed and looks through the window to find the source. He doesn’t expect to find Jaemin purchased by his own bedroom window from across the street, flashlight in hand and repeatedly turning it on and off as a signal.
Jaemin motions for Jisung to meet him outside, and suddenly he’s wide awake, nodding in acknowledgement. He tip-toes as quiet as he can without making the wooden floors creak past his parents’ room and down the stairs, grabbing his raincoat from the coat rack and slipping into his rainboots before sneaking out the front door. Jaemin is already outside waiting for him with an umbrella over his head.
“What's going on?”
“My mom found out about me sneaking out to see Jeno so she’s sending me away for a while,” he cuts to the chase. “I need you to give this to him. It's really important that he gets this so don’t punk out on me, ok?”
“I would never,” Jisung assures. “You can count on me. I promise.” He takes the letter from Jaemin’s hands and tucks it into his jacket to prevent it from getting wet.
“Thank you, Park. You have no idea how much this means to me,” Jaemin pulls him into a hug with his unoccupied arm. “Take care, alright? Get back inside before you get sick.”
Jisung wants to nag back at Jaemin as he stands there barefoot with his pajama bottoms rolled up and no jacket to keep him warm, but he holds the protest on his tongue, instead just squeezing him a little tighter as a goodbye.
Jisung always imagined that the day when Jaemin loaded the trunk with his bags and buckled up in the front seat, it would be in Jeno’s car with Jeno in the driver's seat as they snuck off together to never be seen again. Sometimes in those made up scenarios, Jisung’s bag would also be in the trunk as he was strapped in the backseat ready to embark on a new life with his friends.
But that Tuesday night, Jisung watched from his window as a defeated looking Jaemin slouched beside his mother in the passenger seat to be taken far away from everything and everyone he knew and loved. It hurt to know that when he looked out the window, Jaemin would no longer be there dancing to his favorite record in his bedroom, or giving Jisung a knowing wink as he snuck off to go see Jeno for the night.
Renjun’s mom claimed to hear that Jaemin was moving away to live with some relatives in another state. Chenle’s mom said that she heard Jaemin finally came to his senses and moved to be with a new girlfriend. Renjun and Donghyuck swore on their graves that they saw Jaemin making out with some blonde chick the night before he left.
But Jaemin’s letter said that he was going to a new school to try and live up to his full potential like his mom wanted him to. He said that he loved Jeno more than he’s ever loved anyone in the world- even more than his own father.
Their time together was something he would cherish in his heart for the rest of his life and give him strength to push through all the rough times ahead. Jaemin let him know that he was okay, but warned Jeno to stay away for his safety. Maybe it was best for them to be apart for now. They were so young- they had all the time in the world before having to settle down. And if their love was meant to be then they would find each other again.
Jisung was sure that their love was real. He believed that their love could overcome anything! He had never had so much faith in anything before in his life. Jeno and Jaemin are meant to be and maybe he was the one that was meant to bring them back together again.
So the next morning, he took a shower and dressed in his favorite jeans and tshirt, carefully tucking the letter in his pocket before heading over to Donghyuck’s house to catch a ride with him and his mom to the bowling alley. “Mom! I’m going out! I’ll be back soon!” he shouted. He was half way out the door but paused when he heard a familiar voice coming from the living room- his voice, telling the story of one of the best nights of his life…
“No!” he yelled, racing towards the living room. “That's my record! You can’t listen to that!”
“Jisung, please,” his mother pleaded but Jisung wouldn’t have it, yanking out the record from the record player and ready to throw a tantrum.
“No no no! How could you go through my things like that?! I can't believe this!” He started pacing back and forth, panic ensuing within him. “I can’t deal with this right now. I have to get out of here!”
“Hold it right there, young man,” his father pulled him back from his shoulders and pushed him onto the couch. “You’re not going anywhere for a long time.”
Jeno stared at his glass of coke, mindlessly swirling the ice around with his straw. It had been almost a week since Jaemin just stopped showing up at his place and it was driving him crazy trying to figure out why. Everything seemed to be going so well for them. He thought they were on the same page. But when he resorted to calling Jaemin at home, his mother would answer and inform him that Jaemin no longer wished to see or speak to him.
Usually Jeno wouldn’t take Mrs. Na’s words as fact, but after the talk he and Jaemin had the last time they were together and the way he voiced his apprehensions, it was hard not to be plagued with doubts of his own. What had changed that Jaemin decided to just leave him hanging like this? Was he simply using him as a means to cope with the loss of his father? Was he just a pawn in his quest to rebel against his mother? It didn’t make any sense in Jeno’s mind. He needed answers, but even his only hope to contact Jaemin, Jisung, seemed to disappear off the face of the earth.
“What’s the matter?” asked Johnny, his friend and roommate. “Did you guys have a fight or something?”
Jeno sighs for the upteenth time. “I don’t even know.”
“Don’t sweat it, Jen. Have a drink,” Johnny says as he pushes one of his beer bottles towards Jeno. “I’m sure you’ll see him again.”
“I don’t want to just see him,” Jeno sulks. “I need to talk to him. I need him to know that I...that I….” his voice trails off.
“Don’t tell me you really fell for this guy,” Johnny starts to laugh but it slowly fades away when he notices the forlorn expression on his friend’s face. “Oh. You’re serious about him, huh?”
“More serious than I’ve ever been about anyone.”
“Well, you know what we gotta do right?” Johnny grins devilishly. “Let’s rally up the boys and drive down there! Go bust down his front door. Shatter the windows if you have to! But don’t take no for an answer,” he tosses a couple bills on the table for the waitress, before standing up.
“I don’t think this is such a good idea.”
“Sure it is!” Johnny says as he starts waving over some of their friends scattered around the bar to their table. “Now get up off your ass. Let’s go get your man!”
Jeno wasn’t entirely convinced by this makeshift plan, but at this point he was so desperate to talk to Jaemin that he was willing to do anything. His grip on the steering wheel was tight, knuckles turning white and foot pressed all the way down on the accelerator as he drove down the path that he had memorized like the back of his hand. The neighborhood felt more quiet than usual, making the sound of their engines seem louder to his ears, but Jeno didn’t care. He was ready to fight for Jaemin, motivated solely by love.
From his seat, he can see Mrs. Na appear behind the screen door, arms crossed and ready to battle. Jeno takes a deep breath before stepping out the car and making his way over to the porch steps.
“What are you doing here?” Mrs Na scowls.
“Please,” he starts, as level headed as he can muster. “I just wanna talk to your son.”
“Well, he’s not here,” she responds coldly. “Now go away and leave us alone.”
“I don't want to cause any trouble, Mrs Na,” he says slowly, taking a few more steps forward. “Please. Just let me speak with Jaemin this once and then I’ll get out of your way for good.”
She scoffs. “You were trouble the moment you walked into my son’s life.”
Jeno looks up and notices the window to Jaemin’s bedroom is opened, curtains flowing against the wind. Just the idea that Jaemin was so close, right on the other side of that window made something inside him snap. “Jaemin! Jaemin, it’s me!” he starts to call out almost hysterically. “I’m here for you, dollface!”
“What don't you understand? He’s not here!” she repeats with spite. “Now get off my property this instant!”
“I’m sorry but I can't do that. I need your son. Jaemin! Jaemin!!” He continues to call out in desperation.
“If you don’t get off my property, I’ll call the police!”
Her threats fell deaf to his ears though. Even as Mrs. Na comes out of her house and physically shoves him backwards, the only thing his mind is set on is getting to talk to Jaemin. All he needed was an explanation as to why he left him. He just needed to know he was okay.
Seeing the front door wide open with no one in the way, Jeno runs for it, ignoring the angry protests from Mrs. Na and from the bystanders that have trickled out of their own homes to watch this scene unfold. He runs up the stairs two steps at a time and goes straight to Jaemin’s room. At opening the door however, he sees nothing but an empty bed. There are no clothes hanging in the closet. There is no candle lit by the nightstand. All the drawers of his dresser have been emptied out.
Jeno is living his greatest nightmare. Jaemin was simply gone- plucked right out of his life and there was no way to get him back. His body feels numb as he steps out to the front yard, heartbeat hitting his ribcage so loudly that he doesn’t hear Johnny shouting out at him to make a run for it. His mind is slow to react to the chaos that has ensued around him- his friends fighting against the men of the neighborhood that have rushed out of their homes to fight in defense of Mrs. Na.
Across the street is Jisung by his front lawn being held back by his mother. “Jeno!! Run!!” he yells out to him, but before he gets a chance to move, he feels someone tackle him to the ground.
Above him is Mr. Park in a fit of rage with his hands curled into fists and punching him over and over again until he feels blood beginning to gush out his nose and bruises being formed all around his body. But Jeno feels so defeated and hopeless at the realization that Jaemin is gone that he doesn't even try to fight back. Instead, he lays there limp as he gets beaten straight to the ground until the sound of sirens are heard in the distance. Johnny manages to shove Mr. Park away from Jeno long enough to drag him into their car and they swiftly make their escape before the fuzz arrives.
“Jisung,” Mrs. Park calls. “Please come out.”
“No!” Jisung refuses yet again from inside his locked bedroom. “I don’t want to talk to any of you ever again!”
“Please understand, Jisung,” she says from the other side of the door. “You know that Mrs. Na doesn’t have her husband anymore. Your father was just trying to look out for her. All the neighbors were.”
“Why are you always defending him?” Jisung asks with irritation. “Jeno never even touched her. Dad just needed an excuse to beat him up. He’s hated him from the start!”
“He still committed a crime by entering her house without permission,” she tries to reason.
“Is it such a crime that he wanted to talk to the boy he loves?” Jisung asks, voice partially muffled by the stuffed animal hugged tightly against his chest. The bear was a gift given to him from his late grandmother the day he was born. He’d forgotten about it as he got older, thought he outgrew it, but right at this moment, he finds that it continues to serve its purpose of providing comfort when he needs it most. “Maybe it's illegal for them to get married but it's not illegal for them to talk.”
“Their love can’t happen, Jisung,” she says. “It's better for both of them.”
“So it’s not okay for two people who very clearly love each other to be together but it’s ok for you and Dad to be together when all you do is fight?”
There’s no verbal response that follows after, but when Jisung hears the faint sniffling and quiet footsteps of his mother retreating down the hall, he jumps out of his bed, grumbling under his breath as he pushes aside the bookshelf barricading the door. He shuffles over to his parents’ bedroom, swallowing down his shame as he slowly opens the door to find his mother sitting on the bed with tears in her eyes. “Mom?” he calls softly.
“Oh!” She springs up from the bed, wiping away the dampness from her cheeks and fixing up the skirt of her a-line dress. Her eyes are full of sadness but she forces a smile on her face. “Good! You came out of your room!”
Jisung takes a few timid steps into the room, shoulders weighed down with guilt. “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“Nonsense,” she moves forward to wrap him up her arms. “It’s not your fault, baby. I’m just a little emotional.”
“But I hurt your feelings,” Jisung frowns. “That’s not ok.”
“You also apologized on your own which shows me you’re growing up well.” Mrs. Park looks down at her son, gently brushing aside the hair from his face. “I know it’s hard to understand right now, but a mother’s love for her child has no bounds. You’re my little miracle, Jisung, and I’m always grateful to have you. I will never hold anything against you.”
“What about Dad?” he asks softly. “Do you hold anything against him?”
“Sometimes,” she answers after thinking it over momentarily. “But we’re working on it. It’s just gonna take a while is all.”
“I hold everything against him,” Jisung admits. “Even more after what he did to Jeno.”
Mrs. Park lets out a deep sigh before guiding her son to sit next to her on the bed. “Do you know where Jaemin is right now?”
“He’s going to a new school.”
“True...but that’s not all,” she solemnly reveals, taking his hand into her own. “This new school...specializes in people of his kind. They’re trained to help him get rid of his sinful desires.”
Jisung’s face pales. “So they’re forcing him not to love Jeno anymore?”
“Not just Jeno,” she adds. “Any boy.”
“That’s so cruel! Why would they do that to him?”
“Like I said- a mother will do anything for her child. Mrs. Na just believes this is the best way to help Jaemin live a happy life in the future. And if it means having to sacrifice living together, then so be it. In the end it will hopefully be worth it.”
Jisung thinks of Jeno and Jaemin first meeting at the bowling alley, Jeno and Jaemin slow dancing on the beach, Jeno and Jaemin kissing under the moonlight on Jaemin’s front porch. He thinks of what Jaemin said about knowing he and Jeno would be together forever. He thinks of Jeno comforting Jaemin at the end of that night and promising they will never be apart ever again. There is no way Jaemin willingly agreed to go to this new school!
Maybe Jisung’s mother is right- he doesn’t understand the love a mother can have for her child because if this is how Mrs. Na shows her love to Jaemin then he didn’t want it at all. Jaemin was happy now and she just ripped his livelihood right out of his grasp and tossed him out like his feelings were a waste.
“What would you do?“
“What?”
“If I fell in love with a boy- just like Jaemin. Would you let me be happy or would you force me to be the way that you want me to be?”
“You’re my son,” she reiterates. “I’ll always root for your happiness.”
“What about Dad? What do you think he’d do?”
Mrs. Park offers him a sad smile. “You're his son too.”
The morning after, when Jisung comes down the stairs to get breakfast, he finds his father stretching out the kinks in his neck, groggy and stiff from spending the night sleeping on the couch. Their eyes meet and Jisung manages to catch sight of the bruise blossoming on his left cheek and the dried patch of blood on his torn lip. The tired look in his eyes lets Jisung know that he isn’t in the mood for questions or arguing so he continues his trek to the kitchen.
Usually his mom would have breakfast ready and spread out on the table, but this morning he finds the kitchen empty so he pours himself a bowl of his favorite chocolate cereal.
It’s strange.
Jisung knows for sure that he didn’t hear any fighting between his parents once he went to bed. He remembers his mother going to tend to his father’s injuries- bandaging his split knuckles, icing his swollen cheek- but silence stretched throughout the remainder of the night in their home. Jisung isn’t sure what he prefers: the yelling or this uneasy calmness.
What he does know is that he doesn’t want to be around when the storm finally hits. So later that night, he waits until his parents fall asleep to make his escape. He slips out the back door, backpack stuffed with a change of clothes, a bottle of Jaemin’s favorite lotion and, for good measure, his stuffed bear.
Dear Mom and Dad,
Sorry things haven’t been working out. You don’t need to worry about me anymore. I’ll be fine. I hope everything is better with the next baby that comes along.
-Jisung
Being under the boardwalk isn’t as scary as he once thought. This time around, Jisung doesn’t feel like he’s stepped into a movie he isn’t allowed to watch. On the contrary- he feels more authenticity in between these strangers that aren’t so strange than he does from his neighborhood of gossiping adults and teasing children.
They welcome him into their circle around the campfire and spare him a blanket to keep him warm from the cool ocean breeze. They even offer him a drink, but after experiencing the bitter taste of beer in his mouth for the first time, Jisung decides he could live with never having to drink again.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Jisung turns around to find Jeno standing there, face furrowed in both surprise and minor irritation. “You should be at home.”
Jisung clambers his way out of the circle, and pulls Jeno aside. “I knew you’d show up eventually,” he beams, disregarding the other’s words.
“Why are you here?”
“Because,” he reaches into his jacket, pulling out the letter safely tucked inside, “Jaemin left this for you.”
Jeno's eyes widen a bit from momentary shock that quickly washes away to relief. He takes the letter from Jisung’s hand and reads it carefully, but as he reaches the end, his eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Why is this sentence cut off in the middle? Where’s the rest of the letter?”
“I ate it,” Jisung grins proudly.
Jeno looks at him, dumbstruck. “What?!”
“I memorized it and then I ate it.”
“Jesus Jisung, why would you do that?!”
“Because I know that if I just gave you the whole letter then you'd go find Jaemin on your own. But I wanna see him too! I wanna talk to him.”
“No deal, kid,” Jeno shakes his head. “Just tell where he is so I can go.”
“But you need me!” Jisung exclaims. “Do you think you’re gonna be able to get in where he is? They won't let you! I, on the other hand, actually have a chance!”
Jeno sighs, rubbing at his temples from the migraine that’s threatening to surface. “Do you even realize what you’re asking me? I'm eighteen. If I get caught with you in the car that's considered kidnapping. I’d get charged and tried as an adult!”
“Then we won’t get caught!” Jisung answers like it was the simplest thing in the world. “Look. I have it all mapped out. Jaemin’s school is only about 200 miles one way. That’s about three to four hours of driving- even less if you drive fast. We can get there and back in less than a day!”
“Once I find Jaemin, we’re not turning back,” Jeno warns him. “How are you gonna get back home?”
“I’ll just take a bus or something,” he waves off. “And if anybody asks I’ll just say I hid behind the library.”
And maybe Jeno should be more wary about going through with Jisung’s plan, but when it comes to Jaemin, Jeno acts solely on passion and is more than willing to throw all rationality out the window. So he makes a quick stop by his apartment and packs up his clothes, bidding Johnny goodbye before hopping back into the car and driving them off into the night.
Once Jeno starts pouring out his heart, he can’t seem to stop. Jaemin is the only other person who’s ever made him feel like it was safe to do so, but there’s something about Jisung’s genuine interest and eagerness to listen that makes it easy to open up.
He shares the story of the day his dad walked him out on him and his mom and never came back. It seemed to happen out of the blue: one day they were playing catch in the park and the next day he was gone. He never even left a message, a note- something to let Jeno know that it wasn't his fault.
Jeno talks about his mom, how she had been a bright and cheerful woman but had her essence drained from disloyal men. His dad leaving broke her spirit, making her so desperate to replace that feeling of belonging to someone that she married the first man who came along that gave her any sort of attention.
But when his stepfather left her for another woman, his mom fell apart entirely and ended up in a psychiatric home. Sometimes Jeno feels bad for her, but then he remembers how his mother had just tossed him aside in favor of running into the arms of a stranger. If she didn’t care about him, he didn’t have to care about her.
The only good thing that came out of that arrangement was getting to meet his step brother Doyoung. He was five years older than Jeno and lived with his own mother on the other side of town at the time so they didn’t really see much of each other, but their mutual distaste over that man bonded them. Even after all these years, despite living on opposite sides of the country, they kept in touch just enough to make sure that they were alive and well.
But even Doyoung and his concerns weren’t enough to stop him from acting out. He’d been in all kinds of trouble because he had nothing to lose; he was incapable of really caring about anything and anyone. Friends came in and out of his life like a revolving door and when he felt that undeniable itch for something new he’d just get up and move on to a new place to stay.
And then he met Jaemin and suddenly everything changed.
“I didn’t know it was even possible for me to love someone, but for the first time ever, I feel like I have something worth fighting for. I want Jaemin and I to live out our lives together until the very end. If he’s by my side, then anything is possible.”
“So he is right,” Jisung mumbles under his breath.
“What was that?”
“Jaemin,” he says, this time louder, “he’s a right turn in your life.”
Jeno grins. “The best turn around of my life.”
“Well?” Jeno asks as Jisung climbs back into the front seat.
“No luck,” he pouts. “The front desk said they don’t take any visitors except on Fridays from 12-7pm and I have to come with an adult.”
Jeno drops his head against the steering wheel and groans. “I knew this was going too well.”
“Don’t give up yet. We just got here!” Jisung takes a look over their surroundings and notices two boys lingering by the fence inside the school grounds. “I’ll go talk to those guys over there. Maybe they can help.”
“Wait. Don’t do that!” Jeno sits up, alarmed. “What if they rat on you?”
“Relax. Nothing will go wrong,” he glances back at the fence. “Look! They’re waving us over!”
“You go,” Jeno says as he puts the key in the ignition. “I’ll keep the car running in case we need a quick getaway.”
“Fine by me,” he laughs as he gets back out of the car and heads over to the fence. “Hi! I’m Jisung,” he greets.
“Hey there. I’m Mark,” says the shorter of the two. “This is Jungwoo,” he points to the taller boy with feathery blonde hair that falls into his eyes.
“I noticed you earlier by the front desk,” Jungwoo says. “You looking for someone?”
“Yes!” he answers right away. “Jaemin Na. You know him?”
“I do,” Mark says. “He lives in the room right across from mine.”
Jisung perks up at this revelation. “Is he nearby? Can you call him over?”
“He’s been in his room sick,” Mark reveals. “But we can sneak you in no problem. You just gotta be quick.”
“I’ll be quick! I promise!”
“But first,” Jungwoo interjects. “We need something in return.”
“Yeah sure,” Jisung agrees instantly. “Anything. Just name it.”
“You mind getting us some cigarettes?”
“I don’t smoke,” he frowns, but then quickly brightens up when he remembers who he came with. “Hold on one second. I’ll be right back!” He dashes over to Jeno’s car and begins to dig through the glove compartment.
“What are you doing?” Jeno asks as he watches Jisung pulling out leftover napkins and candy wrappers.
“I need cigarettes,” he idly replies as he continues his search.
“First it was beer and now cigarettes. Maybe your dad is right; we’re definitely a bad influence on you,” Jeno jokes.
Jisung groans when he empties out the compartment but is met with nothing. “I’m serious! I need them so they’ll take me to Jaemin!”
“Alright, alright! No need to panic,” Jeno mutters as he reaches into the little storage compartment by his car door and pulls out two unopened packs. “Here. Knock yourself out.”
Jisung mutters a million thank you’s before he grabs the packs and runs back to Mark and Jungwoo. “I got it!” he announces with a sense of accomplishment.
“Great,” Jungwoo grins appreciatively. “Meet us further down near the bushes by the corner. There’s a small gap under the fence. We’ll pull you in.”
Jisung goes to where he was instructed and sure enough there’s a gap that he can snugly slip through. Mark pulls him in, and keeps Jisung hidden in the bush until Jungwoo gives him the signal that it's safe to cross the yard.
“The dorm monitors like doing random searches during the day so we gotta be fast,” Jungwoo lowly warns as he ushers them into the building. They rush up the stairs with Jungwoo ahead of them by a significant amount just in case they run into a school official and can give them enough warning to run back down.
“What if another student catches us?” Jisung whispers to Mark who’s keeping on anyone behind them.
“People sneak in and out all the time. No one will say anything,” he assures.
When they reach the third floor, Jisung and Mark wait by the door while Jungwoo enters and scopes the hallways for any monitors. Once he deems the coast is clear, he waves for them to come in and they head down towards the end of the corridor.
“This is Jaemin’s room,” Mark points. “I’ll stay out here and stand guard. Jungwoo will keep his eyes out in case any monitors show up.”
“Which can be any minute now so make it fast,” Jungwoo adds.
Jisung nods in acknowledgement before facing the door. He takes a deep breath before knocking. This is it. This is what they drove for all night.
“Park? What are you doing here?!” Jaemin whispers harshly as he pulls the boy inside the room.
“Mark said you were sick,” he avoids the question as he takes a seat on Jaemin’s bed. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah...it was just a cold,” Jaemin answers warily. He looks at Jisung in disbelief- like he can't fully process the image that a part of his life back home has collided with his new life at the center. “Park, this is insane,” he begins to pace back and forth. “How did you even get here?”
“We drove all night to see you!”
“We?” Jaemin freezes and turns to look Jisung in the eye. “What do you mean by ‘we’?”
“Me and Jeno! Who else would it be?” Jisung informs excitedly. “He wants to see you tonight at midnight at the diner down the road. Can you get there?”
“I...” Jaemin shakes his head. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?” Jisung frowns. “He came here to get you!”
“I don’t-” Jaemin starts, but is interrupted by Mark opening the door. “They’re about to start room checks. Time to go.”
Jisung stands up from the bed and turns back to look at Jaemin. “Midnight. Tonight. I’ll tell Jeno you’ll be there?”
“I can’t make any promises, Park. I don’t even know how I'd get there.”
“Figure that out later! Right now we really gotta go,” Mark urges.
“Wait! I almost forgot!” Jisung halts in his step, pulls out a bottle of lotion from his jacket and tosses it to Jaemin. “For you. It’s your favorite.”
“Hurry up, guys!” Jungwoo calls out to them, so Mark grabs Jisung by the wrist and pulls him out. They bolt towards another side entrance and back outside to the bushes.
“Thanks for your help, guys,” Jisung beams at them as he hands over the cigarettes.
“Anything for our fellow homos,” Jungwoo winks as he stashes the cigarettes into his jacket.
“Don’t worry about Jaemin. We’ll help him sneak out,” Mark helpfully adds before they bid farewell and help Jisung back out under the fence.
Jeno perks up when he spots Jisung running back to the car. “So what’s the deal?”
“I got in! I saw him,” Jisung answers, a bit out of breath from the exertion. “He’s doing good. He says he’s not sick anymore.”
“He was sick?” Jeno asks, worried.
“It was just a cold, but he’s better now,” Jisung said hurriedly after taking a big gulp of water.
“Is that it? Did he say something else?” Jeno asks, face falling slightly with disappointment.
“Well,” Jisung clears his throat, eyes glued to the water bottle in his hands. “He was really surprised that we got here. He said he misses you and can’t wait to see you,” he lies, not wanting to bring down the other’s mood.
It seems Jeno didn’t notice though, because he breaks out into a satisfied smile and ruffles Jisung’s hair. “Good job, kid.”
At midnight, Jeno sits alone at a table by the corner of the fairly empty 24-hour diner and waits. He had said he was certain that Jaemin would show up, but Jisung could tell that Jeno was scared.
He was scared too.
Jeno’s fiddling with the handle of his coffee mug when he hears that familiar voice.
“Hey you.”
Jeno looks up and a wave of relief washes over him. He starts to get up, but Jaemin pulls out the chair opposite of him on his own accord, so they both settle down in their respective seats.
“You want me to get you a coffee or something?” he offers.
“No, it’s okay.” Jaemin politely declines, clearing the hoarseness from his throat due to the lack of usage the past couple of days. ”I’m sorry,” he starts. “Everything happened really fast. I tried to get to you, Jeno.”
“It’s ok,” Jeno says softly. “That doesn’t matter anymore.”
“I really tried…” Jaemin’s voice fades off, eyes downcast.
Jeno leans against his elbows on the table, taking a deep breath to gather up his courage. This is the moment he’s been looking forward to, the reason he and Jisung drove hours to get here. It’s now or never.
“Jaemin,” he begins. “I’m leaving tonight and I want you to come with me. Right now. It’s our perfect chance.” But Jaemin’s eyes remained glued to the checkered print tablecloth, unwilling to look Jeno in the eye. The hope in Jeno dissipates when he sees the blonde give no reaction. “What’s wrong? You don’t love me anymore?”
“I just…”Jaemin’s voice breaks, tears starting to trickle down his face.
Everyone in his life is so keen on guiding him towards what they think he needs for a fulfilling future, drilling him with beliefs dating from centuries ago. It’s always been so easy to let himself be molded into whatever his family wanted, his priest wanted, even what his friends wanted. But then he met Jeno, who twisted his mind in the opposite direction, defying everything he thought he believed in.
Being away from everything and everyone has given Jaemin time to think, to really consider what it is that he wants to do with his life.
“What are you expecting from me, Jeno? To go to Mexico with you and get drunk off margaritas? I can’t do that. That’s not reality.”
Jeno tenses. “I’m not asking you to do that,” he says seriously. “I just want us to be together.”
Jaemin pulls out a napkin from the dispenser, wiping his nose as he stabilizes his emotions and forces the rational part of his brain to kick in. “We don’t have any money or a place to stay. We need money for gas and food and to pay rent and bills.”
“I can handle it,” Jeno insists. “I’ll fix cars or wash windows or clean toilets if I have to. I’ve managed to take care of myself since I was thirteen years old. If I can make that work then there’s no doubt in my mind that I can take care of both of us. You won’t even have to lift a finger!”
“I can’t do that to you,” Jaemin sighs. “We’d just end up resenting each other in the end. We won’t make it.”
Jeno grimaces from the other’s negativity. “I drove all the way up here for you to turn me down. The least you could do is look at me.”
Jaemin sneaks a peak at the other and upon seeing the visible heartbreak in Jeno’s eyes, his tears threaten to blur his vision once more. “It’s my whole life, Jeno. That’s what you're asking for.”
Jeno smiles sadly. “I guess I am.”
Jaemin shakes his head. “I can’t handle all this,” he whispers. “I never said I was this tough.”
Jeno closes his eyes and tries to compose himself. The feeling of rejection overwhelms him, but it doesn’t outweigh the need to make sure that Jaemin doesn’t keep living in pain.
“If you don’t want to leave with me, that’s fine. I know you can find someone better than me no problem. But please,” he pleads, ''Jaemin, I beg you. Don’t let those Christian school robots brainwash you. The real you is more than enough. There’s nothing wrong with you. Your heart is full of love and you deserve to share it with whoever you desire, whether it's with a man or woman. I just...I want you to be happy.”
Jeno pulls out a small velvet box from his jacket and slides it across the table towards Jaemin. “This was my grandmother’s wedding ring. You can pawn it for cash if you want. I won’t need it anyway. I mean, who are we kidding? It's not like I can actually marry you, right?” He offers a grim smile. “Use the money to break out of that hell hole and live your life however you wish to do so. You deserve it.”
With that, Jeno gets up out of his chair and presses a tender kiss to the top of Jaemin’s head. “Take care, dollface,” he whispers before walking out of the diner.
Jaemin opens the box and upon seeing the beautiful diamond ring inside, he allows the sobs to rip out of his chest.
“You said you could love anyone as long as they were worth it.”
Jaemin startles at the voice and wipes his eyes to get a clear look of Jisung who climbs out of his hiding spot in one of the booths nearby. “Once you love someone, nothing else matters, right?” he adds with a crestfallen expression.
“Park. You don’t understand. I-”
“We could run away together!” He cuts in, suddenly antsy. “Take a freight across the country or drive all the way to South America! It’ll be just the three of us! Like that night! No one would know where we were and-”
“No!” Jaemin interrupts his rant. “No! Stop! You got it all twisted up! Watching over me and following me around like I’m some goddamn princess- wearing my lotion, listening to my records, hanging onto my every word like I have all the answers. I’m just this guy who lived across the street from you and now I don't anymore!” He stands up and places his hands on Jisung’s shoulders. “You have to go home, Park.”
“But… I don’t belong there,” Jisung utters wistfully.
“You have a family,” Jaemin stresses. “You can’t just leave them like that. ‘Cause if you do then it would just kill them, Park. It would kill them to lose you.”
“Jisung,“ Jeno calls him by the diner entrance. “Come on, kid. You got a bus to catch.”
Jisung looks over at Jeno then up at Jaemin with tears in his eyes. “It’s ok,” Jaemin comforts, wrapping him up into a warm hug. “Everything will be ok.”
“I love you,” Jisung mutters into Jaemin’s chest.
“I love you, too,” he whispers, placing a kiss on top of his head before he carefully pulls away with a somber smile on his face. “Be good, alright?”
“I promise.” Jisung jumps back into his arms, giving one final squeeze before he reluctantly lets go and goes over to Jeno.
Jisung’s feet feel heavier than bricks on their trek to the bus station just a few blocks over. Leaving Jaemin behind and possibly never getting a chance to see him again wounds him, but Jeno grabs hold of his hand and gives him a reassuring squeeze. “It’s hard for me to walk away too, kid, but we did the best we could do.”
“I don’t understand,” Jisung frowns. “Aren’t you sad, too?”
“It hurts more than you can imagine, but I care about his happiness more than my own. If he can’t live a happy life with me, then he deserves to find it on his own some other way.”
“What about you, though?” Jisung wonders. “Are you gonna be happy?”
“Probably not,” Jeno answers honestly.
Jisung doesn’t ask anymore questions, choosing to remain silent as Jeno purchases his bus ticket and escorts him to his terminal. Jisung’s mind is screaming out at him, trying to understand how Jeno could be so calm about this. He and Jaemin were so in love and it seemed like nothing could ever tear them apart. Jisung believed in them with every inch of his soul but the bond between them that seemed so strong was more fragile than he realized, breaking down at the slightest brush with reality.
Jisung was now even more confused about love than ever before.
“Don’t beat yourself up, kid,” Jeno speaks up. “We gave it our best shot.”
Jisung looks up at the bus that’s supposed to be taking him home, then back at Jeno. “What are the chances that you’d let me go with you instead?”
“I’d say zero to none,” Jeno playfully ruffles up the other’s hair. “As much as I love having you around, it just wouldn’t be right to keep you away from your home.”
“Where are you gonna go?”
“I’m not sure yet, but I’ll figure it out,” he shrugs. “i’ll send you a post card or something to let you know I’m ok.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.” Jeno holds out his pinky but Jisung wraps his arms around him instead to bid him farewell before boarding the bus. It’s unsurprisingly almost empty at this time, the only other people on board an elderly couple that sit near the front, so Jisung decides to sit all the way in the back.
He places his backpack on the seat beside him and turns around to look out the back window as the bus slowly begins to depart. He sees Jeno standing there under a street lamp, waiting until the bus is out of sight in an effort to make sure Jisung leaves safely.
Jisung feels defeated, an overwhelming sense of failure weighing heavy on his shoulders when he realizes that he didn’t accomplish his goal of getting his friend back together again. It hurts him to see Jeno standing there all on his own, completely empty handed…
But then Jisung notices a familiar silhouette appear from the shadows and taps Jeno on the shoulder. When Jeno turns, he is immediately stunned to find Jaemin standing there with big doe eyes glistening with hope under the street lights. Nothing can compare with the solace of Jaemin jumping back into his arms with a change of heart, smothering him with kisses and begging for his forgiveness. But to Jeno nothing else matters because they are together and that’s all he wants for the rest of his life.
Jisung feels tempted to run off the bus or maybe call out to them through the window to say goodbye and wish them luck but decides against it. It was enough for him to see Jeno and Jaemin together again one last time.
The air was damp and the front lawn was kissed in morning dew. It had only been a day since Jisung left, but for some reason his home feels unfamiliar, like he’s walking on this street for the very first time. He was afraid of what would be waiting there for him behind those doors, if he was heading straight into the storm he so desperately wanted to avoid. With fearful steps and a stuffed bear pressed right against his stammering chest, he walks up to the only place he’s ever known to be home.
“Jisung?” he hears his mother’s voice before he sees her rushing out the front door. “Jisung!” She runs to embrace her son with alleviated tears. “My baby. I’m so glad you’re back! Are you ok? Are you hurt? Have you had anything to eat?” she fusses over him.
“Yeah,” he croaks, tears of his own starting to pool in around his ducts. “I’m ok, Mom.”
“Honey! Come outside! Jisung is here!” She calls out.
Jisung freezes when he sees his father’s frame standing by the doorway. He was certain he was a dead man. He expected wrath, lectures, and punishments waiting for him. Maybe he’d be grounded until he turned thirty or never be allowed to have desserts ever again. What he doesn’t expect is the tears that well up in his fathers eye’s before he rushes over to pick him up and hold him in his arms, muttering all kinds of apologies and regrets.
And for the first time in his life, Jisung feels safe and heard being nestled between his parents on the living room couch as they talk things out like a family. By pushing aside his judgments, Jisung learns that love had the power to motivate people to change and to forgive. His father can learn to listen to others and his mother can learn to speak up instead of holding in all her burdens. They can learn to respect Jisung’s opinions.
And as for Jisung?
He can learn to treasure the people he has in his life. They may not be perfect, but he loves his parents and he loves his friends and appreciates them for being the constant in his life that makes him feel like he has a home to come back to.
Jisung can also learn to appreciate who he is. He will always love Jaemin, will always carry a sense of admiration for the older boy who lived across the street, but Jisung is his own person and didn’t have to mold himself after anyone else. Being himself is enough and, hopefully one day, he’ll grow to love himself completely.
And one day, when the time comes and the right person comes along, he’ll learn what it's like to be in love.
For the first time in his life, Jisung can truly believe what Jeno and Jaemin had been telling him all along: that he is- and always has been- loved.
These were all things he was only beginning to understand.
Eventually, word got around that Jaemin had run away. Mrs. Lee swore she saw him in the big city with an older man. Mrs. Huang said that Jaemin had moved to Mexico and joined a brothel. Mrs. Zhong said that she heard Jaemin had knocked up a girl and they moved out to Texas.
But Jisung received a letter addressed from Atlanta. Jeno and Jaemin said they were doing alright so far and that they were heading out west to California to live with Doyoung for a bit until they got up on their own feet. They let Jisung know how much they loved and missed him and truly appreciated his effort in believing in their happiness. And in the end, they made Jisung promise that he would still bury his record and not dig it up for thirty years.
So on the day before going back to school, Jisung is out in the woods shoveling the last bit of dirt over his little time capsule. He can’t wait until he’s older and able to look back fondly at these memories. Hopefully by then he’s got a better understanding of how the world around him works. Maybe Jeno and Jaemin can be right there with him to reminisce together.
The sound of twigs snapping startles Jisung and he instinctively raises his shovel in the air, ready to attack any incoming threat. “I come in peace,” Chenle laughs as he shifts through the branches to get closer.
“Oh,” Jisung puts his guard down, lowering the shovel. “It’s just you.”
“I brought popsicles,” Chenle says once he’s close enough. “Want one?”
“Sure,” he brightens up, suddenly realizing how warm his body feels from the late summer heat. He eyes both popsicles presented to him and grabs the red one before settling down on the ground. “Thanks.”
“I knew you’d pick that one,” Chenle giggles as he takes a seat beside him.
“How?”
“Because cherry is your favorite flavor,” he says matter-a-factly.
Jisung feels his cheeks heat up, but he blames it on the exertion from digging in the dirt and not from the fact Chenle has noticed such a minor detail about him.
“Where’s Donghyuck and Renjun?” he changes the topic.
“They went bike riding, I think.”
“And you didn’t go?”
“Didn’t feel like it,” Chenle shrugs.
They sit in comfortable silence, watching as the sun starts going down and the fireflies emerge from their hiding. At one point, Jisung really did think that he hated Chenle and never wanted to speak to him ever again. But sitting here side by side with their defenses disarmed and no one else around to shift the narrative for them, he remembers how much he actually enjoys Chenle’s company.
“I heard you ran away.”
“Yeah. I did.”
“For two whole days?”
“Only one day really.”
“That’s cool of you.”
Jisung blinks, completely surprised. Chenle has never once called him cool in his life. “Thanks.”
“Are you excited for your first year of middle school?”
“Not really,” Jisung wrinkles his nose, displeased at the thought. “I hear they give a lot more homework.”
“Yeah, but at least we’ll be in the same school together again,” Chenle nudges his shoulder. “I can show you around, if you want. Even save you a seat at our lunch table.”
Jisung looks over at Chenle and smiles, moved by the gesture. “That’d be nice. Thanks.”
At this point, the sun has disappeared completely and their view is speckled with fireflies dancing around them. Jisung feels melancholic about summer break coming to an end: no more days riding bikes, or playing tag in the street or going to the bowling alley. And maybe he was still nervous at the prospect of starting a new school and meeting new people and following a new curriculum, but at least he knows he’s got a support system in his friend. He’s ready to face whatever the fall has in store for him.
“There’s lots of fun things to look forward to in middle school,” Chenle continues the conversation from before. “At the end of every month, for example, there’s a school dance.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” he pauses, almost like he’s trying to gather some courage. “Maybe...we could go together sometime,” he timidly suggests. “If you want.”
“Maybe.” Jisung answers idly, as he leans forward with eyes focused on the firefly right in front of him and swiftly catches it in his hands.
(This summer has been filled with adventures Jisung never thought he’d experience and created memories that still feel like a fever dream.)
“You finally got it!” Chenle cheers.
(But Jisung learned some things that summer. Things he would never forget.)
“Yeah,” he grins, taking a peak at the beam of light in his hands. “I guess I did.”