Archive of Our Own

Sometimes, Donghyuck is wrong.

“Out of your league,” he says with a click of his tongue. “Don’t even think about it.”

But Jeno looks at the boy across the bar, and thinks about it.

It doesn’t help that Donghyuck has been crossing out all the possibilities Jeno has brought up, though most of them were because according to Donghyuck, it was Jeno who was out of their league. (“You don’t give yourself enough credit, dude, but you’re pretty hot,” he had assured him).  It stings Jeno’s ego that the boy in blue fits Donghyuck’s standards and overpasses Jeno’s league, because even though Jeno admits he’s the prettiest boy he has seen in a long while – especially at this bar – his pride isn’t going to let him give up so easily.

Jeno can’t disagree with Donghyuck, but it’s unfair that his friend discards the possibility of hitting on him just because he’s out of Jeno’s league. He might as well get rejected, but he can try.

“Is it because you want him for yourself?” Jeno shoots, slightly defensive.

Resting his lower back against the bar, Donghyuck smirks at him, “No.” It wouldn’t be the first time that Donghyuck dissuades him from pursuing a guy just because he had taken a liking to him, so Jeno’s accusation isn’t that offensive. Donghyuck catches his reticence and adds, “I mean, I’d tap that, but look at him.”

Jeno looks at him. He has stared at him for too long, but there’s a difference between drooling over a pretty boy and analyzing him. The boy is, if Jeno is allowed to be petulant, magnificent. Jeno can’t pinpoint what the striking factor that makes him stand out is, other than being physically breathtaking; there’s something else that draws Jeno in like a magnet, and just like a magnet, he might crash against him too hard and break in pieces.

His friends also went over Jeno’s radar, but one glance and Jeno realizes that if the boy is used to hanging out with men like that, he will indeed have no chance. One of them is threateningly tall, way too handsome to walk among humans, flawless tanned skin that Jeno can’t help but envy; the other friend is cute, with big, surprised eyes, and sports a smile that could earn him a good job as a toothpaste model.

Noticing how Jeno is evaluating them as well, Donghyuck lifts his drink to make a fake toast. And right then, when Jeno is at his lowest, Donghyuck speaks.

“His posture, back straight, shoulders relaxed, the distance between his feet as he stands – all perfect,” Donghyuck sing-songs, not looking at the boy anymore, just at Jeno and his reactions. “It shows that he has been brought up under very strict circumstances, maybe even overprotected. So does the way he smiles. He smiles the right amount, like he’s been taught to please, no loud laughs, no awkward, forced smiles even if he’s with his friends.”

Jeno stops breathing for a moment when the boy illustrates exactly what Donghyuck is describing: his friends burst into uncontrollable laughter, but his lips contort into a demure, commercial worthy smile. He still looks beautiful, though, or so Jeno thinks. There’s nothing insincere about his smile, and that’s what makes him spark brighter than his friends.

“Rich kid, too. That basic white tee is around six hundred bucks, and his shoes, damn, I’ve seen Chris Evans wear those to the Oscars,” Donghyuck continues. Jeno racks his eyes up and down to follow his descriptions, but he doesn’t have the knowledge to conclude that Donghyuck is telling the truth. The boy’s clothes seem to be a bit fancier than most people’s wardrobe, and for sure fancier than Jeno’s thrifty jacket and his older brother’s sneakers. “I can’t recognize the pants, but that’s a very nice ass.”

Jeno gapes at Donghyuck, reaching out to punch him in the arm for appreciating his boy’s ass. After calling dibs, that’s a very rude behavior.

“I can’t believe you remember Chris Evans’ shoes at the fucking Oscars,” Jeno scoffs.

It’s not the time to mock Donghyuck for his ridiculous knowledge in fashion, however. Jeno has a bigger problem, because if the boy is really wearing a shirt that costs more than what Jeno has in his bank account right now, he’ll be turned down without a doubt.

Jeno turns to Jaemin, who has been typing on his phone all this time, just to find out that he has finally raised his head – and worst of it all, he’s smiling. Jaemin isn’t drunk enough to be smiling at them with all his teeth, and Jeno immediately feels that he’s missing some vital information in this conversation.

“What do you think?” he prompts Jaemin, equally unsettled and serious.

Jaemin doesn’t respond. His gaze travels from his friends to the pretty boy, and then back to his friends at least three times before he decides that Jeno can’t be asking that question.

“Are you two serious?” he says instead, bursting into laughter.

His reaction is unexplainable, but Jeno thinks that maybe Jaemin already knows the boy. Maybe either Donghyuck or Jeno already hooked up with him and they don’t remember anything from that night. Jeno might not be the sort of guy that jumps into drunk sex so easily, but he admits that it has happened a few times. But god, Jeno is sure that if he had seen him before, he would remember him; and if it had been Donghyuck’s affair instead, Donghyuck would have taken a couple of pictures of him just to show off.

But really, Jeno wouldn’t forget such a pretty face. It’s biologically impossible for his gay brain.

“What’s the issue?” Jeno whines to Jaemin, trying to control himself when Donghyuck sends him a disgusted look.

Jaemin shakes his head, that annoying grin still present on his face like an omen of Jeno’s disgrace.

“You have got to be kidding me,” he repeats, clutching his side. He doesn’t seem disposed to answer Jeno’s question, either because he prefers to have fun at his expense or because he wants Jeno to fall on his own. “Go and hit on him, Jeno, I want to have a little fun tonight.”

Jeno glances at the boy again, sparkling eyes and elegant demeanor, and it’s either his heart or his dick that takes the decision. He has a bad hunch about this, but fear has never stopped him before.

Maybe it’s because Jeno knows how to play out of his league.

That’s the only explanation he has for this: his hands around the boy’s hips as he presses him against the door of his apartment, his tongue deep into his mouth, and the desperate caresses of the stranger’s fingers through his hair.

“Renjun, was it?” Jeno mutters against his lips, too impatient to properly detach from him.

Clearly uninterested in his question, and way more interested in Jeno’s mouth, Renjun just hums in affirmation. He pulls Jeno closer, moving his hips forwards to fit against him, and both of them meet in another rushed, clumsy kiss.

Jeno doesn’t know why he has accompanied Renjun all the way home. Until seconds ago, their flirting was minimal, with a taste of innocence on top – and calling it flirting was giving Jeno too much credit. When Jeno dared to approach Renjun at the bar, Renjun’s friends had laughed at his attempts without any shame, like Jeno was ridiculous for even giving it a try. That seemed to be a common opinion, apparently. Jeno had indeed felt quite ridiculous before Renjun’s repressed smile and the way he had shushed his friends so that they didn’t mock him, but the lack of a rejection had encouraged him to continue. It was like an adult indulging a kid’s attempt at playing to be a grown up.

Jeno had discovered that Renjun was interesting to talk to, so easy that it was scary – as if Renjun had spent his whole life mastering the art of conversing – and then there was no going back. That faint thread of curiosity between them was a trap, and it had clutched Jeno right away. Renjun was so elegant, slightly condescending, and Jeno couldn’t resist that.

His kisses, however, are anything but elegant. They’re still condescending, and Jeno melts into that sensation, into the certainty that he can make someone out of his league go this low for him. Deep inside, it’s about corrupting him. Renjun looks innocent in a peculiar way, an innocence that might not be real but that he can’t control, and tainting that is a privilege for Jeno. It doesn’t matter that neither Donghyuck nor Jaemin are going to believe this happened.

“Do you live alone?” Jeno mumbles upon noticing the silence in Renjun’s apartment.

That seems to be the key to make Renjun speak. He sighs, breaking away from the kiss, his head resting against the door. Jeno smiles at him as a reflex, because damn, Renjun is probably the prettiest boy he has ever kissed, and he carries an unattainable aura that intimidates Jeno in the best way. His swollen lips stand out even in the darkness of his hall.

“Yeah,” Renjun confirms. He gazes at Jeno’s lips, such an ephemeral glance that he’s not conscious of it. Jeno can’t miss it because all his attention is on Renjun, but when Renjun looks into his eyes again, Jeno tightens his arms around him. To his surprise, Renjun lets out a faint laugh and says, “I’m sorry, I don’t want to go that far.”

Jeno doesn’t understand him at first, but it becomes too evident once Renjun lifts his eyebrows at him. Jeno’s palms burn out of shame, and he sheepishly lets go, stepping back to give Renjun some space.

It makes sense that Renjun assumed that Jeno wants to sleep with him. First, because he does. But there are many other reasons. No regular twenty-year-old man would walk someone home voluntarily if they didn’t have a chance to get into their pants – not a stranger, at least. Romance is dead. Boys their age are disgusting, indecent and selfish. Jeno understands all that, but it was Renjun who kissed him at the door, who initiated this game without asking first. Jeno went with him with zero expectations, and a few kisses are much more than he expected tonight. Perhaps he’s the innocent one.

“That’s fine,” Jeno replies, a contented sigh escaping his lips. He doesn’t know why Renjun grins at him, maybe because he’s pleased with Jeno’s respect, but it’s such a relaxed, sincere smile that Jeno can’t help his mouth. It should be a little bit embarrassing, but Jeno immediately blurts out, “God, you’re gorgeous.”

Judging Renjun’s reaction – or lack of thereof – he knows that. He doesn’t thank Jeno for the compliment, but his grin widens.

“You’re not that bad yourself,” he observes with a playful once-over.

Renjun pushes him away, so slowly that Jeno doesn’t have the heart to feel rejected. Renjun’s hand lingers on his chest when he walks past him, and Jeno takes a moment before spinning on his heels to follow Renjun’s movements.

His breath catches in his throat at the sight of Renjun’s apartment, the huge space that extends beyond the hall. Given the size of the entrance alone, and the living room that follows, Donghyuck’s analysis of Renjun’s clothes was accurate. If Renjun lives alone and can afford this apartment, he’s either a rich kid or a drug dealer. The latter would explain why Renjun isn’t afraid of inviting a stranger into his home, but Jeno prays for the first option. He can manage a rich kid, at least for one night.

Jeno steps forward, making an effort not to check out Renjun’s ass and focusing on any other signal that should make him run away. But there isn’t any, just Renjun in his tight pants and that perfect, slanted smile that is like a punch to Jeno’s stomach.

“Do you want me to leave?” Jeno asks him, wary.

He should leave, anyway, if Renjun doesn’t intend to sleep with him. Maybe that’s the detail Renjun let out for him to get the hint. However, right when Jeno is about to answer himself and come up with some stupid excuse to go, Renjun fists the front of his shirt and pulls him across the apartment with him, his bright eyes fixed on Jeno’s lost expression.

“No,” Renjun chirps, way too entertained with Jeno’s confusion. Jeno supposes that this is what pretty boys like Renjun do. Play with other people. Send mixed signals. “It’s too late to walk alone outside. And wouldn’t I be rude if I kicked you out after you walked me home like a gentleman?”

The faint tone of mockery makes Jeno blush, but Renjun isn’t wrong. No one is a gentleman nowadays, and Renjun just wants to embarrass him for following him home like a thirsty dog. Jeno swears that he’s better than this, but contradicting Renjun’s insinuations would just be more humiliating.

“So what are we supposed to do?” Jeno asks, swallowing the lump in his throat.

Renjun’s fist pulses on his skin through the clothes. His gaze flickers up from his chest to Jeno again, a significant glint in his pupils that tells Jeno about everything he needs to know about Renjun. They’re two strangers, and when they were at the bar, Renjun was a complete mystery for him. He’s not that mysterious now; he feels, kisses and yearns for touch as well.

Judging his hidden fear and those exposed tints of desire, Jeno suspects that Renjun doesn’t do this often. He’s unfamiliar either with kissing boys or bringing them to his apartment.

“I liked what we were already doing,” Renjun confesses, heavily breathing as Jeno tries to get a hold on him again. It happens slowly, like they could scare each other, but Renjun welcomes him with a new attitude now that he has set the limits, that he can trust Jeno not to cross them. “If that’s enough for you.”

Jeno isn’t used to this either. One night stands are rarely up his alley, but once in a blue moon Jeno falls into it without remorse.

Usually, his style is a bit different. He likes walking people home. Going on a couple dates. Getting the approval of his friends to make sure that he’s not going out with a psychopath. Sleeping with someone is better when he actually likes their personality – that doesn’t mean he has to love them, it’s far from that. It’s a matter of being comfortable, of creating a good atmosphere, and adding all that to the fact he wants to get into someone’s pants because they’re pretty.

So maybe this once Jeno can allow himself this, a small risk with the potential to become a mistake. When he stares into Renjun’s eyes, he’s convinced that he can’t just hit and run, even if Renjun doesn’t expect him to be different from other boys. Jeno doesn’t consider his preferences special, but he loves that Renjun is a little bit special for him. A new spice, a new kind of guy that he hasn’t figured out yet.

A boy that is looking for affection, open to kisses but nothing else, and that Jeno is free to surrender to. The warning is latent, but curiosity tugs Jeno in, and so do Renjun’s lips, full and delicate against his. Jeno has never had such a pretty thing in his arms. It’s impossible to let go.

Jeno falls asleep and wakes up the same way: with his heart racing, in a blur, his body warning him that he’s not in a familiar place.

At his side, Renjun is warm and petite. Jeno doesn’t draw away from him even after he realizes that he has slept the whole night cuddling Renjun, though he doesn’t remember when they wrapped themselves around each other. It should be weird that he’s been so intimate with a stranger, but it’s not the first time, and Jeno isn’t going to become paranoid whether cuddling Renjun is more personal than fucking him. It can be, he knows that. But it doesn’t have to be.

The first thing Jeno notices is that Renjun is very silent, much more silent than the noise running inside Jeno’s head. All of him is subdued, calm, but as big and deep as an ocean. Jeno can’t dip his toes deep enough to touch the bottom, but the war going on in his head keeps him afloat.

The second thing Jeno grasps is that Renjun doesn’t do it on purpose – it’s just a natural extension of himself. It’s easy to tell as Renjun wakes up, lazily opening and closing his eyes a few times, barely moving. He pushes back into Jeno’s body warmth, but it isn’t until Jeno strokes his abdomen that Renjun seems to remember that he’s not alone.

“Morning,” Jeno mumbles, tentative. Renjun answers in such a faint, groggy voice that Jeno can’t make out if it’s an insult or a greeting, but judging how Renjun doesn’t roll away from him, it must be the latter. “Did I scare you?”

To Jeno’s surprise, Renjun scoffs at that, whipping his head to glance at him. And god, Renjun looks stunning even when he’s half asleep, a cute touch to the smirk on his lips. Jeno can’t help but think that it’s both unfair and a blessing, though for sure he feels a little bit blessed right now.

“Do you think you’re scary?” Renjun shoots back at him, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

Jeno watches every single one of Renjun’s reactions to test the waters, and jokes, “Not at all, but you look delicate.”

Renjun rolls his eyes. “Rude.”

It’s a relief that Renjun laughs, clearly defeated by Jeno’s comeback. He lies on his back, escaping from the cover of Jeno’s body, and sends him a not so serious glare.

Jeno doesn’t oppose any resistance, aware that Renjun is about to abandon him in bed. It’s also his cue to leave. Though it’s impossible to have a protocol for one night stands, especially now because he hasn’t had sex with Renjun, Jeno always leaves as soon as he wakes up. The first couple of times he made the mistake of sitting through a terribly awkward breakfast, and even if Renjun looks completely relaxed and unbothered, Jeno isn’t going to try his luck.

When Renjun disappears into the bathroom, Jeno puts his clothes on and tries to fix his hair in the mirror, which proves to be difficult without a brush. He makes sure that he has all his money and his phone, but as soon as he bends down over the bedside table, he startles at the sight of three phones.

Three phones. Jeno straightens up, blinking in case he’s just imagining things, but there’s something about this that doesn’t settle well with him.

It shouldn’t be weird. Renjun, especially if he’s loaded with money, is allowed to have two phones. But he’s just a twenty-year-old attending university and there’s no apparent reason why he would need two different phones, unless he had something in his life to hide, to separate.

Before Jeno’s mind can run through a thousand awful, dangerous possibilities, Renjun walks into the bedroom again, hair wet as he dries it with a towel. He’s already dressed up, just a simple pair of jeans and a white shirt tucked in, and he shoots Jeno an enchanting, blinding smile.

“You have two phones?” Jeno croaks out, trying to conceal his discomfort and pass it as a joke. Renjun is immutable, doesn’t seem to understand his question until Jeno adds, “What are you, some sort of secret agent investigating me?”

Renjun’s smile blooms into a grin.

“It was you who hit on me,” he reminds him, as if that frees him from suspicion. Renjun is right, however, because he hasn’t given Jeno any reasons to doubt him. It was Jeno who toyed with the limits of respect, who wanted to kick the first barrier off. Renjun dedicates him an amused look and pries, “Does that mean you’re hiding something worth investigating, Jeno?”

Jeno accepts defeat with a laugh, aware that Renjun is picking up on his tension. Renjun would be so disappointed to find out that he’s the most boring, most normal university student in the world. This little adventure is the most thrilling thing that has happened to him in months.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jeno chirps, pretending to zip his mouth with his fingers.

Even though Renjun doesn’t seem bothered by Jeno’s curiosity, he still strides to the bedside table and shoves one of the phones into his pocket. After that, Renjun turns around and tugs him closer for a kiss – and Jeno doesn’t want to be mistrustful, but it looks awfully like an attempt at distracting him.

But god, if it doesn’t work to distract Jeno. It’s a small, slow kiss, less rushed than last night’s kisses, and Jeno would be lying to himself if he said that Renjun, just for how much of a good kisser he is, isn’t out of his league.

When Renjun pulls back, his eyes glint at the embarrassing bliss on Jeno’s face. It takes Jeno a few seconds to compose himself, but as soon as it’s evident that Renjun isn’t going to kiss him again, Jeno feels drawn towards him. The corner of Renjun’s lips curl up in a repressed smile, and he moves away, ignoring Jeno in favor of fixing his bed.

Jeno is supposed to leave, he knows that. However, he also knows that making Renjun’s huge bed is the perfect excuse to stay for a few more minutes, so he skids to the other side of the bed with an elucidating smile. Renjun shamelessly rolls his eyes at him, reading his intentions, but he indulges Jeno regardless.

“You’re in university, right?” Jeno asks him, not knowing how to catch Renjun’s attention.

Renjun hums, eyes focused on the wrinkles of his sheets. “Right.”

“Do I have to force the words out of you?” Jeno protests. It’s inevitable for him to sound a bit childish, but if Renjun doesn’t help him to keep up the conversation, Jeno is going to embarrass himself for sure. It really proves that last night Renjun was in the mood for a chat, because it was much easier than now, when it’s Jeno carrying the whole weight of the conversation. “Tell me what you’re studying.”

Jeno’s demands don’t offend Renjun. If anything, they please him, judging the faint smirk that dances on his lips.

“Fine Arts,” he answers, like it’s obvious. Maybe it is. Jeno thinks it fits him. Risking the chance of being too cheesy, all of Renjun and his surroundings are crafted like a piece of art, either because Renjun wants it to be that way or because it’s natural for him. His apartment, his appearance, his words. Renjun studies him and says, “And you… let me guess.”

Jeno immediately tenses at the evaluating look that Renjun sends him. From head to toe, stopping on every detail of his clothes, his body, even his fingers. Jeno wonders if Renjun is just putting a show to intimidate him or he really has the skills to figure out half of his life just by observing him – after all, Jeno knows that Donghyuck, for example, is an ace at this.

“Something science related?” Renjun tries, arching his eyebrows in interest.

Resisting the urge to laugh, Jeno relaxes. He’s not an open book to Renjun, and that’s a relief. It would be a bit alarming if Jeno didn’t have the chance of hiding how interested he is in Renjun.

“Missed shot for like,” Jeno begins, unable to conceal his amusement. He failed math and chemistry so many times during high school that the thought of looking like a science-oriented person is a joke. “So much.”

That mistake doesn’t seem to affect Renjun’s pride, almost like he expects to be wrong. He tears his gaze away from Jeno, ushering him to focus on making the bed instead, and Jeno bites his lower lip to stop himself from pushing Renjun’s buttons.

“Linguistics,” Renjun decides then, not even glancing at him. The subtle smile on his lips betrays him, though, and Jeno feels a little bit too happy. “Just for the irony of how you speak.”

Jeno shouldn’t have laughed at him, or called victory so soon.

“Shit,” he curses under his breath, dragging a small laugh out of Renjun. It’s unavoidable for Jeno to flush red both at Renjun’s attack and at the fact that his first reaction has been to curse, so he simply admits, “Yeah, I’m studying English.”

Even though Renjun doesn’t comment on it, he’s very pleased with himself. Jeno racks his brain to find another topic, but all the questions that come to mind are too personal, and he doesn’t want to overwhelm Renjun.

Under the pretense that it’s now or never, Jeno has to surrender. If Renjun wants this to be the first and last time they see each other, Jeno isn’t going to kneel for him. They barely know each other, and Renjun must have his reasons to dismiss him like one would dismiss a nonsensical one-night stand.

That’s the reason Jeno keeps his mouth shut as Renjun leads him to the door, but he makes sure to scan Renjun’s apartment one last time. It’s indeed too empty, even if Renjun lives alone, too elegant, too clean. There’s nothing personal about it, no photos, no objects that can hint at Renjun’s hobbies, and Jeno can’t shake off the feeling that the more Renjun hides, the more Jeno wants to know.

Jeno’s curiosity goes beyond Renjun’s beauty and the glint in his dark eyes when they stand by the door and he looks up at Jeno. Renjun is pretty thin, but he looks strong. He’s polite, but not soft; he speaks and behaves like he doesn’t fear anyone, not even his own words. With that involuntary aura of power around him, Jeno could even call him dangerous.

At Jeno’s scrutiny, Renjun sends him a coy smile. “It was nice to meet you, Jeno,” he says, and though he doesn’t sound mean, it’s a clear goodbye.

Jeno doesn’t know why, but he’s stripped off any shame and self-respect. Renjun is basically kicking him out now, and he should comply and act like a decent person, but much to his dismay, it seems that his tongue doesn’t agree with his head.

“Aren’t you going to give me your number?” Jeno blurts out, heat expanding all over his body once the words are out.

It catches Renjun off guard, and that itself is an achievement. Renjun tilts his head, a shade of approval crossing his semblance, and gathers his previous composure in a few seconds.

He places one of his hands on his hip, the other on the door frame, and retorts, “The real one or the secret agent one?”

Deep within, Jeno purrs in pleasure at this exchange. Renjun is nice, but not stupid. He doesn’t appreciate that Jeno’s jokes were directed at hinting that he isn’t trustworthy, and that detail is enough for him to reject him.

Jeno doesn’t lament it, however. He’s better than pleading for a second chance with a pretty boy.

“Whichever you want,” Jeno answers in delight. It’s just a joke, he tells himself, and if Renjun doesn’t give him his number, Jeno will forget him in a couple of days. Or so he hopes. Renjun is good enough of a kisser to be remembered for a while. “I accept you with all your flaws.”

Renjun cackles at that, his playful façade crumbling down. Jeno responds with a smile, and right when he’s about to apologize and bid goodbye, Renjun leans closer and tiptoes.

They might have spent a couple of hours making out tonight, but Jeno is speechless when Renjun presses a kiss on his mouth. He instinctively cradles Renjun’s head to bring him closer, but that doesn’t scare Renjun, who latches his arms around him and molds his lips against Jeno’s.

It ends too fast, at least too fast for Jeno, and he can’t restrain the faint noise that he makes as Renjun draws back. His stability is nowhere to be found, his inside brimming with butterflies, and Renjun looks as breathless as him for a moment.

“In that case, you should accept this instead,” Renjun whispers, running a hand over Jeno’s chest. Jeno thinks he’s talking about the kiss, but then Renjun adds, “The same bar, at the same time, on Saturday.”

Jeno can’t process Renjun’s words. It takes him an embarrassing amount of time to understand that no, Renjun isn’t going to give him his number; and that on top of that, Renjun is trying to set some sort of date as if they’re living in the past century, no technology involved, just two boys arranging to meet up in person.

Jeno should suspect. But he has done enough of that; maybe Renjun is a romantic, maybe he doesn’t trust Jeno, or maybe this is a small test to see if Jeno’s interest is genuine or he just wants to add Renjun to an interminable list of boys to resort to on his phone.

“Are you serious?” Jeno utters, not quite believing that Renjun is going to pull this.

The smirk that adorns Renjun’s face is the biggest answer Jeno is going to receive.

“Maybe I am,” Renjun says, laughter in his tone. He shoves Jeno, far from harsh, but hard enough to make Jeno cross the door on his way out. Jeno watches him from outside the apartment, mouth open in shock, but Renjun just teases him, “Maybe I’m not.”

Before Jeno can protest that Renjun’s idea is insane, the door closes in his face.

It is insane.

That’s Jeno’s conclusion when he finishes telling the story, enclosed with Donghyuck, Jaemin and Mark in a study room, and his three friends stare at him with equally skeptical expressions.

It must be Jeno’s fault, that’s for sure, for not focusing on studying and showing any emotion akin to excitement over a boy. He has tried to suppress the hints of foolish hope in his tone, but it’s pretty much impossible – and pretty pathetic. Jeno is a bit grossed out at himself too. He hasn’t been this whipped since he met Doyoung in first year, and it’s sad that the only other person capable of yanking these feelings out of him is Renjun. A boy that he’s seen only once in his life.

“Do you realize all this doesn’t make any sense?” Donghyuck asks him, wary, as if he’s aware that being the first one to demolish Jeno’s fantasies is a big responsibility. “I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but that’s probably his way of dumping you.”

Jeno hadn’t even thought about that, not for a single second. Maybe because Renjun seemed honest and Jeno didn’t consider that Renjun could have been smart – or twisted – enough to come up with such a deceiving plan.

As a second resort, Jeno turns his head to look at Jaemin.

However, Jaemin grants him an awkward smile and claims, “I don’t believe you.”

That’s worse than Donghyuck assuming that Jeno isn’t good enough for Renjun to want him again, or calling him gullible for buying a guy’s excuses. Jaemin insinuating that Jeno is lying to them, to his friends, hurts.

Jeno might not have an interesting love life, but he’s not so desperate that he needs validation from unrealistic fantasies. Besides, he’s not a liar. What happened with Renjun is strange for him too, and that’s the reason he feels so lost and nervous at the same time. He’s in need of support, reassurance, not the opposite.

“Why?” Jeno croaks out, feeling worse by the second. He unconsciously scowls at Jaemin and spits, “Why would I lie?”

Jaemin sighs, just that, and interlaces his hands over the table.

“Are you sure you didn’t dream that shit up?” he insists, as if Jeno hasn’t already dismissed Mark asking if there was a chance Renjun had drugged him. He realizes that Jeno isn’t very appreciative of his question, and his shoulders slump in defeat. “Okay, let’s say I believe you made out with Renjun and spent the night at his apartment. But I don’t see the rest happening.”

Because that’s what normal people do, Jeno tells himself within, fuck and dump, not fuck and fall in love. But by that rule, Jeno should have done much more than kissing Renjun. Renjun would have never allowed him to walk him home. Renjun would have never kissed him and then abruptly decided that he didn’t want to sleep with Jeno.

Jeno allows himself a moment to think, to go over the events from that night. And it’s then when the flash of Jaemin’s smirk slips back into his mind. That clear air of superiority and the certainty that Jeno was going to go home with his hands empty even before he could try.

“You’re hiding something from me,” Jeno concludes, so sure of himself that he sends Jaemin and Donghyuck a glare. Mark merely looks at them in interest, like he’s watching a tennis game and he can’t follow the ball fast enough. “God, that night I could sense that you already knew Renjun, and you’re just proving my point now.”

It might be a crazy theory, and Jeno fears that he’s going to look like a lunatic for accusing his friend like this, but the result he gets is satisfying. Satisfying, and to his disgrace, alarming.

Jaemin pales so severely that Jeno wonders if his friend is about to pass out for a reason unrelated to their conversation. Even Donghyuck, who must not be as informed as Jeno supposed, shows some concern for him, curling his hand around Jaemin’s arm.

“I don’t know Renjun,” Jaemin croaks out.

And that’s how Jeno gets the confirmation, at last, that Jaemin knows Renjun. Jaemin might not be able to tell if Jeno is a liar or not, but damn, Jeno can. His judgment of character is impeccable, and his two years of friendship with Jaemin have trained him to distinguish if Jaemin is lying as a joke or lying because he’s scared.

In this case, it’s the latter.

“Then why do you think I’m lying?” Jeno reasons. “Only if you knew Renjun, you’d know that the idea doesn’t fit him otherwise that isn’t possible for whatever reason.”

This doesn’t happen often: Jaemin is smarter than him, and Jeno rarely gets the chance of disarming him so easily. But Jeno can’t feel all that smug, because he suspects that Jaemin wouldn’t be hiding anything from him if it was irrelevant.

He’s winning this battle, but the war is against Jeno.

In a dilemma, Jaemin makes pitiful eyes at Donghyuck, but Donghyuck shakes his head and says, “This is your problem, dude.”

“Listen,” Jaemin tries again, slumping on his chair. He observes his notes for a second, gaze unfocused, until he finds the right words to confront Jeno. “If he shows up at the bar again, then you should ask him why I know him.”

Jeno trusts Jaemin. Even now, with Jaemin obviously keeping important information for himself, Jeno can see in his expression that he doesn’t intend to hurt Jeno. The opposite, even. This is just an issue for Jeno; his friends can’t force him to forget about Renjun, to accept that Renjun has been cruel to him and given him false hope. First of all, because Jeno refuses to believe so. Secondly, because he swears that not everyone in this universe is such a bad person, and his friends should have more faith in human kind.

“This is so unfair,” Jeno mumbles, giving up on Jaemin.

There’s a shade of pity in Jaemin’s gaze, but he just shrugs and claims, “It’s not for me to say, especially if he doesn’t want to tell you.”

The fact that Jeno is disposed to discard the truth is humiliating. He’s curious about what he doesn’t know about Renjun, about why Jaemin is so reticent towards him and so sure that Jeno is going to get his hope crushed. But over that, like a thick layer of honey, lie Jeno’s wishes to kiss Renjun just once again, no matter what Renjun’s little secret is.

Jeno goes alone.

And to his shock, Renjun does the same.

There isn’t much integrity in Jeno’s decisions throughout the week, but once he spots Renjun in the bar, he’s unable to regret any of them.

He convinced Jaemin, Mark and Donghyuck that he wouldn’t come here tonight, even though they offered to accompany him. Jeno wasn’t a hundred percent sure that he would be brave enough to show up alone, but he was sure that if Renjun didn’t appear and his friends were with him, the blow would be harder to assimilate. He wouldn’t be able to avoid the dreaded I told you so, another defeat to the list of reasons why he was childishly unrealistic, and if he was about to feel like a fool, he preferred solitude to company.

But Renjun is there, standing by the bar and cheerfully chatting with one of the bartenders. The bar is quite empty today, since the usual customers are students and they’re in the middle of exam season, but Jeno appreciates the contrast in calmness compared to the first time. It’s easier for him to find Renjun, to not feel so lonely when he steps into the place, and it’s definitely easier to approach him without fear.

Every step towards Renjun is a new discovery for Jeno. Renjun hasn’t dressed up tonight, and if Donghyuck was here to judge him, Jeno is certain that he wouldn’t qualify him as out of Jeno’s league. Not because he doesn’t look good; far from that, Renjun looks as breathtaking as the first time, but in a different way. He’s wearing a simple blue jumper, a pair of jeans that don’t stick to the curve of his legs, and sneakers. On campus, no one would ever spare him a glance; other than because he’s gorgeous, he looks like any other student.

That’s because he is, Jeno reminds himself. His paranoia and Jaemin’s behavior are completely unjustified.

Before Jeno can reach the bar, the bartender catches his presence and to Jeno’s surprise, he knowingly smiles and forces Renjun to turn around. That’s all Jeno needs to reassure himself that this isn’t a coincidence, that Renjun is here because of him. Jeno doesn’t know the bartender, but Renjun must have talked about him and described him pretty well for the bartender to recognize him.

Nervousness sits at the pit of his stomach, but then he meets eyes with Renjun and he remembers why he’s doing this. Renjun’s expression shifts from confusion to relief, and one second later to happiness; the smile that expands on his face stabs through Jeno without mercy. Jeno wasn’t the only one who thought that he would be stood up, and that fear is still reflected in Renjun’s eyes, dissipating as the distance between them disappears.

“Jeno,” Renjun breathes out as a greeting. He slips off the chair to stand, and Jeno feels something brim in his chest, a strong emotion that he hasn’t felt in a long time. Renjun sets a hand over his arm, a distraction that can’t make Jeno’s attention move away from Renjun’s gaze, and then he whispers, “You came.”

Even over the underlying noise of the bar, Jeno distinguishes the awe in his voice. Renjun is surprised. He doesn’t have any reason to be. Even if it was Jeno who asked for his number, Renjun must have assumed that he was just fooling around, that he’d probably find another beautiful boy next weekend.

That’s understandable, but Jeno is oddly relieved that neither of them are that superficial.

“You did too,” Jeno points out.

He can’t believe that this boy is in front of him again. It’s a curious feeling, because Jeno perceives him in a different vibrant color tonight – Renjun is familiar to him now, either because Jeno has shared more than words with him or because the fact that Renjun is interested in him too unites them against the world.

“You really accepted my weird invitation,” Renjun retorts. He lowers his head, laughing at Jeno as he realizes that yes, he got them into this odd, unexplainable situation. It’s impossible not to laugh along, because Renjun’s laughter is contagious and Jeno agrees with him: it was a weird invitation, and he’s weird for accepting it. “I think both of us might be a bit crazy.”

Jeno scrunches his nose at Renjun and replies, “I hope it’s the good kind of crazy.”

Renjun’s eyes are overwhelming when they fix on Jeno again, but given his placid expression, he appreciates Jeno’s words.

Even if the bar isn’t the perfect place to have a conversation, they decide to stay for a while. Neither Renjun or he drink alcohol, too immersed in each other to waste it by getting drunk; Jeno listens to Renjun like their time is gold, and Renjun doesn’t stay far behind. It overwhelms Jeno a few times, since he’s not used to being in the spotlight, since he doesn’t feel like he’s an interesting person. It’s amazing that Renjun just watches him with his black pupils and smiles at Jeno’s jokes like he’s the funniest person in the universe, very entertained.

Unlike him, Renjun turns into an excited child once he has to speak about his major. Jeno is reticent to ask at first, since most students don’t want to discuss responsibilities, but it proves to be a good route to see the most honest side of Renjun. He forgets that Jeno isn’t his friend, that they don’t know much about each other, so he gushes about his projects and even ends up complaining about one of his classmates.

Jeno drowns in his words, and when Renjun starts asking him personal questions, it takes him a while to realize that it’s his chance to open up. This is way harder than kissing and touching, and Renjun snickers at his evident shyness more than once. His only consolation is that every time he stutters and laughs, a spark of fondness appears in Renjun’s gaze, and Jeno can’t remember a time in his life when he was aware that someone was finding him cute.

Time flies so quickly that when Jeno checks his phone, he almost has a heart attack. It feels like he’s been with Renjun for half an hour, but they’re on the fourth hour and still running, and Jeno has to repress the sudden urge of pressuring Renjun to give him something valuable, a way to see him again.

Jeno has to admit that he’s a bit compromised by now, and if after tonight Renjun disappears, it won’t be a nice feeling.

That’s perhaps why Jeno’s brain drives him to change the topic. Exchanging small details about each other’s lives is nice, but it isn’t substantial, and Jeno feels more impatient, a bit desperate because there’s just something addicting about Renjun’s presence that he doesn’t want to lose so soon.

“Jaemin says he knows you,” Jeno confesses once he finishes talking about how he met his friends. It feels like a mistake right away, but the harm is done, and Jeno studies Renjun’s expression in an attempt to find a minimal bad reaction.

Renjun just blankly blinks at him. “Who’s Jaemin?”

“You don’t remember him-?” Jeno continues, confused. Donghyuck and Jaemin were with him when he approached Renjun, but he can’t remember if they ever introduced themselves. He remembers that Jaemin was acting weird, probably because he was feeling some sort of second-hand embarrassment towards him. “One of the friends that were with me the other night, the tallest one.”

Renjun’s eyebrows disappear under his fringe, intrigue exploding. It’s not the kind of intrigue that Jeno is waiting for; Renjun just seems to be interested in why Jeno is bringing him up out of the blue, as though he intuits they’re going to dangerous places. After all, Jaemin wasn’t the only one that Renjun got to meet that night.

“I see,” Renjun says, softer, his smile transforming into something more threatening. Jeno is confused until Renjun leans closer and, with that same playfulness, whispers into his ear, “I don’t have to worry about Jaemin, do I?”

The heat that invades Jeno’s body is quite peculiar. He doesn’t understand how Renjun has reached that conclusion, but the thought of him liking Jaemin is revolting – Jaemin is like his brother, if he’s being generous. Like his dad sometimes. The possibility of liking him beyond a friendship hasn’t crossed his mind before, and Jeno doesn’t want it to remain there.

Besides, the implications of Renjun’s question are more intense than what Jeno can handle right now. Renjun doesn’t have to worry about anyone, really, not with that face, that voice and that flawless attitude. He has Jeno wrapped around his finger, but he could have any other man he wanted to.

“Oh my god, no,” Jeno answers, horrified. Renjun withdraws just in time to see the terror on his face, and of course he shamelessly laughs at him. “He’s just my friend, nothing-”

Renjun shuts him up by surprise: lips on lips, a shared smile, his fingers peacefully resting in the crook of Jeno’s neck. Jeno doesn’t have time to process what’s happening, that ball of heat progressing into an outburst of nerves and fire, and the kiss ends before Jeno can fully soak in Renjun’s mouth.

To Jeno’s relief, Renjun looks a bit confused at his own impulses, as though he didn’t plan to kiss Jeno. Not now, at least. His eyes roam around the bar, a pink shade on his cheeks, and only then he returns to Jeno with a demure smile.

“Jeno, I don’t want to talk about your friends,” he mutters, breathless. Even though Renjun doesn’t tear his gaze away, Jeno can’t quite grasp the emotions in his expression. He emits a strange air of confusion, of uncertainty, and at the same time his hold on Jeno’s shoulder tightens with security. “At all.”

Jeno doesn’t want to either.

“That could be very offensive,” he remarks, just slightly aware of what he asked before the kiss.

Jeno doesn’t hear himself, and he doubts that Renjun is purposely listening to him anymore. His eyes keep travelling down to Jeno’s mouth, both of them tiptoeing around each other, and Jeno just knows that they have to get out of here.

“Yes,” Renjun answers in a mutter. Jeno doesn’t know if he’s talking to him, if he’s in another world, but they’re on the same wavelength. That’s pretty obvious when Renjun whispers a tentative, “Your place?”

It’s impossible for Jeno not to feel ashamed when Renjun steps into his room.

It’s not a matter of money. Jeno lives with other three students in a small flat with four individual rooms; nothing spectacular, since Jeno only has space for his bed, a desk, and his wardrobe. That’s not the issue: Jeno doesn’t have any complex about his money, even if Renjun is evidently loaded with money and he might judge how humble his life is.

The issue is that he hasn’t had time to clean up in about two weeks, and his bedroom is full random clothes thrown everywhere and his notes are scattered all over the desk and bed.

Jeno rushes to pick up as many clothes as he can while Renjun trails behind him, eyebrows raised in amusement. The judgmental glance that Renjun dedicates him could embarrass anyone in the world, but it isn’t the sort of flaw that would make Jeno regret bringing Renjun here. Jeno is aware of the impression he leaves on people, and he doesn’t have the image of a chaotic boy with bad management skills. That’s who he is, though, and he guesses that keeping a façade isn’t a viable option anyway.

Hiding a bundle of clothes behind his back, Jeno croaks out, “I’m sorry about the mess.”

Renjun paints a wolfish smile, reveling in his shame, and retorts, “Your true self has been exposed.”

Jeno unconsciously drops all the clothes back on the floor when Renjun steps forward. It’s a relief that he’s taking it with humor, that he doesn’t mind that Jeno isn’t all that perfect – but at the same time it’s unsettling, because all Jeno has seen of Renjun is indeed perfect.

“You got me,” Jeno jokes. His excuses dim out at Renjun’s proximity, and when Renjun flashes a smile up at him, Jeno instinctively wraps his arms around him. “I didn’t even know if you’d show up, so ending up in my room wasn’t a thing.”

That humors Renjun, who can’t help but snicker at his words. He presses against Jeno, their bodies fitting so perfectly that Jeno lets out a satisfied noise.

“You’re supposed to be clean and organized for yourself,” Renjun reminds him, mocks him. “Not because you’re bringing boys over.”

Jeno doesn’t bother to fight Renjun’s accusations. If Renjun thinks that Jeno brings boys over often, it doesn’t matter. He’s wrong, but he’s still in Jeno’s room – and just like Renjun likes him enough to ignore the mess under their feet and the possibility of Jeno being a player, Jeno can forget that Renjun is clearly hiding something from him.

It’s awfully easy to forget it with Renjun’s lips inches away from him.

“I promise it will be clean next time,” Jeno mutters, a last attempt to gain time and courage.

Renjun flickers his gaze up, completely serious, and remarks, “Next time?”

That’s a big promise, one that has slipped past Jeno’s lips without intention, and Jeno doesn’t have to beg this time, because it’s Renjun who has been waiting for his permission. One step at a time, and it’s Renjun’s turn.

In a whisper, Jeno confirms, “Yes.”

And Renjun takes care of the rest.

It all falls into place at a dizzying pace.

Jeno isn’t scared, though, because he does what he wants to do without exceptions, so there’s no room for mistakes. When they exchange numbers, it doesn’t feel like a big deal. When Renjun kisses him by the door, flashing an enchanted smile afterwards, Jeno knows that he’s going to see him again.

Renjun becomes a little new routine in his life, but it happens so slowly, so progressively, that Jeno doesn’t have the chance to assimilate what’s happening. He becomes familiar with Renjun’s faculty in the span of two weeks, waiting for him after his last afternoon class, and on Fridays it’s Renjun’s who stands outside his class until Jeno finishes.

They never mention dating, and it isn’t necessary. The couple of hours that they always spend together after classes are casual dates, day after day, but the nights Jeno presses Renjun onto the mattress with his hips aren’t so casual. It’s usually at Jeno’s place, perhaps because it’s closer to campus, or perhaps because Jeno has a hunch that Renjun will close up if Jeno starts prying more than he should.

Jeno doesn’t dare to introduce Renjun again to Jaemin and Donghyuck, but at last his friends manage to step over their unexplainable incredulity and believe that yes, Jeno might be seeing that boy from the bar. After a while Donghyuck starts insisting that Jeno should bring Renjun to hang out with them, despite Jeno’s reticence to share him.

Meeting his friends doesn’t imply a commitment, and Jeno wants to as well – mainly because he’s already foreseeing that soon they’ll be complaining about how he spends more time with Renjun than with them – but Renjun could misinterpret it.

“He’s not your boyfriend, fine,” Donghyuck says during lunch, munching on his sandwich like he hasn’t eaten in months. He’s always in a rush because his afternoon break is pretty short, so Jeno never scolds him for his manners. “But if he turns out to be a serial killer and the only information we have-”

“We just think it could be fun,” Jaemin cuts him off, before Donghyuck can have the opposite effect on Jeno. He sends Jeno a placid smile, which he doesn’t trust at all, and adds, “That’s all.”

Jeno keeps his gaze on Jaemin for a while, hoping to break him, but he seems sincere this time. Either because Jaemin has accepted that his protests won’t change reality or because he’s glad that Jeno wasn’t wrong and he doesn’t intend to dishearten him. That, or the way Mark is distractedly caressing his forearm is much more important than Jeno’s problems.

“Yeah! No pressure,” Donghyuck supplies, ignoring that that isn’t the path his words were previously taking.  He pats Jeno’s shoulder and, fitting Jeno’s expectations, he betrays his true intentions one second later, “It’s not serious yet, but what if it ends up being serious? I’m going to be the asshole who told you he was out of your league, and he’ll think I’m a bad friend. I deserve a chance too.”

Jeno glowers at Donghyuck, but that’s all the resistance he puts up. Deep inside Jeno wishes Renjun could get along with his friends as well; it would be perfect, and even if perfect can be quite intimidating, Jeno isn’t afraid of it.

Jeno doesn’t bring up the idea right away, however, because he can’t find a moment when Renjun is receptive enough. Sometimes he just forgets about it, so it’s partly his fault, and the rest of the blame lies on Renjun’s ability to distract him.

The worst of all is that Jeno begins to get used to Renjun. He gets used to falling asleep pressed against Renjun, with Renjun’s arm around his stomach and half of his body on top of him. He gets used to waking up in the same position, just more embroiled, warmer, fuller, with that raw honesty that mornings bring, sleepy truths and clinginess that neither of them allows themselves when they’re fully awake.

But it’s much worse than that. Jeno gets used to holding Renjun’s hand under the table when they’re at cafes. He gets used to resting his head on Renjun’s lap when they study together in his room, to the way Renjun carefully runs his fingers through his hair until Jeno drifts off to his dreams by accident. He gets used to the explosion in his chest when he sees Renjun for the first time every day, to his muscles tensing at the mere view of Renjun’s smile directed at him. He gets used to the fact that he doesn’t need to know all about Renjun’s life to know him, and that’s where he finds peace. He gets used to the faint brush of Renjun’s pants over his thighs when Jeno slips them down, but he doesn’t get used to seeing Renjun without clothes on.

It’s only after one long night, as Renjun lazily rolls out of the bed with only his bottom half on, that Jeno remembers the invitation. It’s a selfish thought, because Renjun is going to be busy all weekend, and tonight they have separate plans – that means that if Jeno drags Renjun with him tonight, he won’t have to miss him for three whole days.

“Do your friends know about me?” Jeno shoots at him, lying on his side to look at Renjun better.

Renjun, who is on his way to the bathroom, spins around to glance at him. It’s evident that he can’t figure out Jeno’s intentions, that he’s both surprised and wary, but somehow that soothes Jeno.

“Of course,” Renjun answers. And it makes sense that they do, but Jeno can’t help but feel a ting of satisfaction travel through him. Renjun seems to catch his mood shift, a grin flourishing on his face. “Have you suddenly decided to keep me a secret?”

“You’re too pretty to be kept a secret,” Jeno teases him. Renjun makes a disgusted face at him, throws his jumper at his face to shut him up, and Jeno immediately bursts into laughter. By now he’s aware that Renjun has a hard time accepting sugary compliments, and that’s the exact reason it humors Jeno. Before Renjun can assume that he was just fucking around, Jeno pouts at him. “Do you want to have dinner with my friends and me?”

The mystery disappears just like that, and Renjun’s shoulders slump down, tension gone.

“You know I can’t,” he sighs, a pitiful spark in his eyes.

Renjun has his own plans, and it’d be pretty inconsiderate if he ditched his friends for a boy – Jeno couldn’t do it either, mostly because Donghyuck would pull him back by his hair.

A thrill of impulsiveness takes over him, or at least that’s the only explanation he has to blurt out, “Bring your friends too.”

Renjun freezes, eyes wide, and Jeno sinks his face in the mattress in an attempt to conceal his embarrassment. If he has learned something about Renjun during the last month, it’s that he’s always sincere, and if he has to reject Jeno’s idea, he’ll do it and then will explain why Jeno is a fool for coming up with it.

“Are you sure about that, Jeno?” he questions him, like he can’t take Jeno’s idea seriously. “That might get very awkward.”

That’s a good argument to draw back. Making Renjun fit into his group of friends doesn’t have to be that complicated, since Jeno has already explored which parts of his personality will mingle with Donghyuck, Mark and Jaemin, and how they could clash. Jeno has no idea what Renjun’s friends are like. The two guys that he met that night at the bar – Yukhei and Guanheng – looked nice, but Jeno can’t brush off the sensation that they found Jeno’s attempts at wooing Renjun very funny. Like he didn’t deserve him. At least they will have something in common with Donghyuck, Jeno reckons.

“That’s their problem,” Jeno protests, reaching out to clutch Renjun by his pants. Renjun giggles, steps back and bats his hand away, aware that if Jeno pulls him back into bed, they won’t attend their classes today, once again. “I just want to hog you, don’t play hard to get.”

It’s not about forcing Renjun to stay with him in bed, but about seeing him tonight too, about next week. Introducing their friends, not only to each other but to their other friends can either be a big step or an insignificant decision. But it’s so clear to Jeno, in this little relationship they’re threading stitch by stitch, that it makes sense to fuse a different part of their lives.

Renjun isn’t nervous at his confession. Instead, his uneven smile widens, and he raises his leg to kick Jeno over the bed. It’s not the first time Renjun shoves him with so little care, so Jeno makes a scene and pretends that he’s hurt, laughing as soon as Renjun frowns at him.

“I’ll see what I can do for you, sir,” Renjun hums, hovering over him to leave a peck on the tip of Jeno’s nose.

If Jeno’s heart tugs at the gesture, no one has to know. And if his gaze follows Renjun across the room until he closes the door behind him, it doesn’t mean that he’s falling for Renjun a little bit too hard.

Donghyuck grins at him across the table, malice in his gaze, and mocks him, “Don’t be nervous.”

For a devil like Donghyuck, that’s easy to say, and even easier to notice. Jeno is a prey he can decide to bite if he’s bored, and Jeno is patient and indulges Donghyuck often, but tonight is a delicate night.

The restaurant that Jaemin and Mark chose isn’t the most elegant place, but Jeno has never confirmed that Renjun is bathing in money, and he doesn’t want his friends to know about it either. Not yet. Donghyuck is observant enough to prove it himself, but also respectful enough to understand when he has to keep silence. Besides, the atmosphere of the restaurant could help them to loosen.

“I’m great with people, you know that,” Donghyuck continues, blabbering rather than communicating. “I’m going to have them wrapped around my finger by the end of the dinner.”

Jeno doesn’t doubt so. He redirects Donghyuck’s attention towards Jaemin, who is completely inclined into Mark’s embrace as he whispers words into his ear; that’s not a very subtle movement, but Jeno has been looking at them with suspicion for a couple of months now. Mark looks too comfortable with Jaemin, and considering he doesn’t let Jeno and Donghyuck cling onto him, it’s a warning sign that something is going on.

“I think Jaemin is more nervous than me,” Jeno comments out loud, using a tone that no one can’t ignore.

Jaemin detaches from Mark like he’s been burned, and instead of pretending that he doesn’t understand Jeno’s accusation, he stares at him with wide eyes.

“I’m not,” he complains, voice hoarse, so weak that Mark rubs his arm in consolation.

“He’s not,” Mark repeats after him, clearly entertained.

Jeno lifts his eyebrows, shocked at how intense Jaemin’s reaction has been. There’s no point in torturing Jaemin further, but Jeno doesn’t miss how Jaemin dries his palms on his thighs. Jeno swears that if this is the power Renjun has over everyone, then he could be used as a mass destruction weapon.

“Just… don’t be weird, okay?” Jeno tells them, looking at every one of his friends until he gets a nod.

Renjun arrives a couple of minutes later, and though Renjun didn’t confirm that he’d show up only with Yukhei and Guanheng, Jeno isn’t expecting a third boy to accompany them. He’s quite small, like Renjun, and Guanheng has his arm wrapped around his waist. Jeno thinks it’s a little bit unfair, because the four of them have an intimidating aura that Jeno and his friends definitely don’t have, so the equal number is just a disadvantage.

It’s stupid that Jeno has to gulp down the knot in his throat as soon as he meets eyes with Renjun. Unlike him, Renjun seems relaxed, and he greets all of Jeno’s friends with a handshake and a little bow. Jeno makes the effort of studying Jaemin when he greets Renjun, but apart from his previous agitation, there isn’t any extra hint to suspect of his behavior. He stands up too fast, hesitates before sitting down, and only follows through when Renjun sends him a smile.

Renjun doesn’t know Jaemin, that’s for sure. He even asks for their names again, apologizing for his memory, and Donghyuck takes that as his chance to trick Renjun into talking only to him. After a few minutes Jeno realizes that Donghyuck doesn’t intend to annoy or push Renjun’s limits, and he affords the privilege of ignoring them both.

First impressions aren’t always right, and in this case, Jeno has to admit that it was his paranoia acting up. Yukhei and Guanheng don’t give any signs of taking this dinner as a joke; both of them are fun, like to pick on Renjun and assure Jeno more than once that he shouldn’t pamper Renjun too much or he’ll become an insufferable monster. The new boy – Dejun – is less mean than them, and Jeno soon finds out that it’s because this situation is new for him as well: he started dating Guanheng three months ago, thus he’s not overly familiar with Yukhei and Renjun either.

Once Jeno realizes the dinner isn’t a disaster creeping up on them, he allows himself to behave like he does when he’s with Renjun. Renjun is glad to accept his gestures, and it’s so natural for him, as if he doesn’t have to think twice, that Jeno feels giddy deep inside. The biggest reaction they get is Jaemin granting them a curious glance when Renjun sneaks a kiss on his cheek, and after that no one pays them any attention.

“I should get going,” Renjun announces at some point of the night, when only Mark and Guanheng are eating their desserts. He rubs Jeno’s thigh under the table, eyes crinkled up in happiness, and jokes, “But you can keep these idiots and go out with them.”

“Can’t I tag along?” Jeno asks, ignoring the protests around the table. Guanheng protests, with his mouth full, that he’s the least idiotic among the four of them, but Yukhei just laughs. “Please.”

The answer is clear before Renjun can even open his mouth. “Don’t make that face at me,” he says while pressing his palm on Jeno’s jaw. Jeno isn’t conscious that he was pleading until he spies Donghyuck pretending to vomit on the other side of the table. “You won’t die sleeping alone for one night.”

Renjun has already explained to him that he’d be leaving in the middle of the night to visit his parents, since it’s apparently a long trip, and that it would be better for Jeno to just sleep alone. It’s not a matter of not wanting to be with Jeno, but considering how private and discreet Renjun is, it doesn’t make sense that Jeno can stay in his apartment alone while he’s gone. Jeno doubts there would be much to discover there, anyway.

“Actually, I think we all should leave,” Jaemin chirps up, slinging an arm around Mark’s shoulders. “Before someone comes up with a bad idea and we can’t wake up tomorrow.”

That’s an uncharacteristic streak of responsibility in Jaemin, so they interpret it as a sign of the universe and decide to call the night off. While they put on their coats, Jeno announces that he’s going to pay only to realize that it’s probably going to be a big blow in his bank account. He can’t back out now, less when everyone is just chatting, but Renjun catches his expression in time and tugs at his hand.

When Jeno feels the cold plastic against his palm, he flushes red so fast that it’s shameful. He shakes his head at Renjun, but Renjun has already drawn his hand away and Jeno is left with Renjun’s credit card in his power.

“Don’t you dare argue with me,” Renjun says under his breath, conscious that this might hurt Jeno’s pride. But that’s the reason he’s giving him the credit card this way, so he ushers Jeno, “Go.”

Guilt travels through Jeno during the whole process, as if he’s stealing from Renjun. Still, it’s a nice detail that Renjun trusts him so much, and even nicer that he can read Jeno’s doubts without speaking to him. After paying by the entrance, Jeno spins around just to find out that everyone has walked out and he has been abandoned inside the restaurant.

Jeno follows them outside in a rush, worried that Renjun will leave without taking his credit card first. Guanheng, Dejun, Mark and Donghyuck are talking by the door, but they gesture him to the parking lot, where Renjun has apparently disappeared to with Jaemin and Yukhei.

However, when Jeno turns around the corner and has a clear view of the parking lot, he realizes that Yukhei is nowhere to be seen. Jaemin is in front of Renjun’s car, and Renjun is leaning back on the hood, arms crossed over his chest. One glance is enough for Jeno to assume that they’re not having a casual conversation; the frown between Renjun’s eyebrows is deeper than Jeno has ever seen, and Jaemin is nervously fidgeting on his feet. There’s determination on his expression despite his nervousness, and that’s what unsettles Jeno. He shouldn’t have left them alone.

“He’s going to find out sooner or later,” Jaemin says, concatenating with words that Jeno can’t make out. Jeno stops on his tracks, and though spying isn’t the most honorable idea, he trails back to hide behind a big four-wheel. His heart is beating so hard that he nearly misses the next words, “For how long do you think you can keep this up? Don’t you realize this will hurt him?”

Jeno’s blood freezes in his veins, a wave of shock travelling through him. It’s strange that Jaemin has the guts to use that tone on Renjun. During the dinner he has been nothing but enchanting towards Renjun, and though Jeno knows Jaemin can be quite rude if he wants to, he’s a bit pained that he’s behaving this way towards Renjun. Either this discussion has riled Jaemin up to the point of losing his composure or he’s been pretending all night.

“You don’t get it,” Renjun accuses. And he sounds cold, defensive, like he believes that Jaemin could be right. That he could hurt Jeno. “No one has ever liked me because… of me.”

“He already likes you,” Jaemin retorts. “It’s time to tell him before this lie becomes so big that you can’t handle it.”

Deciphering what they’re talking about is impossible. Jeno’s suspicions aren’t unfounded, but that was crystal clear before this. Maybe he’s capable of ignoring Renjun’s secrets in favor of their happiness, but Jaemin doesn’t seem to agree with him; in fact, he seems to be certain that it will destroy Jeno. A lie.

“He’s your friend, and I understand your concern.” Renjun exhales so hard that his sigh resonates in the parking lot. “Jeno isn’t dumb, and he knows that there’s something off here, but he has decided to respect my silence.”

Because Renjun is comfortable with him when Jeno isn’t pushy, and Jeno doesn’t want to ruin that. God, because he doesn’t want to force Renjun to do anything that will upset him. He doesn’t think that whatever Renjun is hiding is so important that it will irrevocably affect them for worse. Renjun is just a university student; he’s not married in secret, doesn’t have kids, nor is he a war criminal.

Those are insane speculations, but Jeno fears why Jaemin is so worried.

“Out of ignorance.”

“You’re insinuating that he’ll change his mind once he knows the truth,” Renjun points out, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “You have to pick one, Jaemin. Either he likes me enough to accept all this or he doesn’t.”

Silence settles between them, perhaps because both of them have realized that the other isn’t going to surrender. Jeno considers coming out then, but Jaemin’s voice interrupts his thoughts again, and he stays in place for a few more seconds.

“Give him the chance to decide,” Jaemin responds at last. He doesn’t bother to console Renjun, to withdraw his words. Jeno has a hunch that it’s because Jaemin isn’t sure what Jeno might do either. “If he doesn’t accept it, dragging your relationship out just will make you two suffer.”

Jeno expects Renjun to be mad, to argue with Jaemin because he shouldn’t be meddling in their relationship, but that outburst never comes.

The last thing he imagines is hearing Renjun beg, “Don’t tell him, please.” He chokes on his own words, and Jeno takes a step sideways, ready to interrupt before the situation can worsen. “I just- I’m so happy when I’m with him, and if he’s going to hate me for it, I want to enjoy this for a bit longer.”

Within a second, Jeno’s heart breaks into a million pieces. Jaemin has always told him that he’s not made to carry the weight of other people’s sadness, that he’s the worst at relationships because Jeno will do anything for anyone just so that they’re happy; and sometimes, some people don’t deserve such kindness.

That’s what Jaemin is protecting him from: his incapacity to say no to people that he cares about. Renjun could hurt him and Jeno would forgive him without a doubt, and that’s not always the best decision.

But Jeno irremediably agrees with Renjun. He’s so happy with him that he prefers to be blind to his lies, to that secret that will turn the world upside down. For a little while Jeno can close his eyes and pretend for the both of them, and most importantly, he can repress his curiosity out of respect for Renjun. If the house of cards crumbles down afterwards, at least Jeno will have lived in blessed oblivion long enough to be happy.

“He’s cute,” Donghyuck approves, slanting his head to stare at Jeno. “In a mean way, actually. I like him.”

It’s a lazy Sunday, and probably the first day in weeks that Donghyuck and Jeno have ended up hanging out alone. Mark and Jaemin ditched them at the last moment, claiming that they had too many assignments to finish. Jeno kind of missed this, though: cuddling in the couch with Donghyuck, lights turned off as they watch a movie, and snacking on a bunch of unhealthy snacks that are going to give them a stomachache later.

It was Donghyuck who brought up this idea, sliding into Jeno’s shared apartment without permission. Jeno didn’t complain. Even though Donghyuck didn’t explicitly say it, it was evident that he could sense that Jeno would be moping the whole weekend without Renjun. That’s why he’s here now, invading Jeno’s lap and cheekily brushing off the crumbs that he’s leaving everywhere.

“Don’t like him too much,” Jeno jokes, pulling Donghyuck’s hair without mercy. Donghyuck grunts at him, annoyed, making Jeno laugh. When Donghyuck focuses on the movie again, Jeno observes him and mutters, “Have you noticed that Jaemin and Mark-?”

Donghyuck nearly jumps off him, sits up in a rush and twirls to look at Jeno with wide eyes. “Oh my god, yes,” he hisses, so excited that Jeno wonders for how long he’s been keeping this to himself.

“Yes what?” Jeno mocks him, imitating his voice.

Despite the teasing, it’s a relief that Donghyuck also had an eye of them. Collecting all the hints wasn’t an easy task for Jeno, who usually doesn’t stick his nose into other people’s business, but Jaemin has been bringing Mark along at every chance he had, and spending more time with him than with Donghyuck and Jaemin – and Jeno can’t reproach anything, because he’s been doing the same with Renjun. They were bound to smell that there was something going on between them.

“I thought I was crazy,” Donghyuck explains, covering his mouth with his palm to laugh and releasing all his tension. His gaze shines with excitement as he rambles, “The other day Jaemin told me he was busy but I showed up at his flat because I had to return his sneakers and guess who opened the door.”

That touches Jeno’s heart though, because it implies that Donghyuck respected Jaemin’s privacy instead of snitching on him right away. In a way it’s Jeno who has pushed the wheel, and now it’s moving on its own.

“I guess he was busy for real.”

“Don’t joke about that!” Donghyuck exclaims. The shade of disgust that eclipses his semblance drives Jeno to laugh harder, until Donghyuck slaps his arm so hard that Jeno feels a burning pain. “First of all, it’s gross that they like each other and it’s also gross that they didn’t tell us.”

Still recovering from the hit, Jeno reasons, “Maybe they knew you’d call them gross.”

That’s supposed to make Donghyuck consider that he might being too harsh on Jaemin and Mark, but the thought flies over his head. Jeno accepts that it’s a lost cause, especially if Donghyuck has been dying to share this information and complain about their friends’ not sharing the news.

“Don’t put the blame on me, Lee Jeno.” Donghyuck lies back on him, finding the right position to keep watching the movie in peace. He grumbles, “Jaemin is a filthy liar and Mark-”

Jeno doesn’t have to stop his whining, since Donghyuck falls silent all of a sudden, his hand freezing as he tries to get more snacks.

Curious, Jeno encourages him, “And Mark?”

“I’ve just realized he’s never hit on anyone since we met him,” he whispers, amazed. Jeno has to bite his tongue not to contradict him, but Jeno thinks that might be a simple coincidence, rather than Mark being in love with Jaemin for two years. “Has he been thirsting after Jaemin all this time?”

That’s a possibility, but Jeno doubts it. Jaemin is an expert at picking up flirting hints, and he would have definitely dropped a couple of comments around Jeno to test the waters, to check if he agreed with him. Apart from that, it makes sense that if this was a sudden explosion for the both of them, they were wary of talking about it so soon. Mark has always been very overprotective of their friendship.

“You should hurry up, Hyuck,” Jeno warns him, sinking his elbows in Donghyuck’s ribs to catch his attention. “You’re the only one who is single.”

Single, Jeno echoes inside his mind. Renjun isn’t his boyfriend. Or maybe he is, Jeno can’t tell anymore. He has never dated anyone seriously to figure out if introducing each other to their friends, showing affection in public and sleeping together almost on a daily basis makes Renjun his boyfriend.

“Fuck off,” Donghyuck merrily says, interrupting his thoughts.

All in all, that’s not enough of a distraction. When Donghyuck closes his mouth and only speaks to point out details about the movie, Jeno’s turmoil is inevitably drawn to Renjun.

Renjun, who has evaporated all weekend with little explanation, not telling him where his parents lived or why he was choosing a random weekend to visit them. Renjun, who hasn’t answered his messages yet, Jeno’s messages left unread. That confirms that he’s indeed, like he told Jeno, quite busy, but Jeno wonders why all this is necessary. The secrets, the discretion, the concern over if Renjun is fine – such a small detail as texting someone he cares about and receiving an answer would reassure Jeno that he doesn’t have to worry about his well-being.

Jeno reckons that it has worked just fine until now. He doesn’t hold any rights over Renjun’s life, and therefore Renjun is allowed to show himself as deeply as he wants to. But Jeno’s feelings are starting to be involved – and that’s a fact reflected on how much he’s missing Renjun over the course of two mere days – and he doesn’t know for how long he’ll be able to hold up, or if Renjun will ever be brave enough to open up.

Realization hits Jeno when he stands outside Renjun's classroom, shifting his weight from one leg to another, and becomes aware of what this looks like.

He's been picking Renjun up from class for more than two months, though it's Renjun who drives afterwards. He's already familiar with his classmates, and the guy that sticks to Renjun during their classes even sends him significant glances when they meet eyes outside. Jeno has been swimming through this experience without considering what he's doing, but the question about if he's dating Renjun or not answers itself.

As Renjun's classmates walk out, Jeno takes a moment to analyze them for the first time. And there it is: the curious looks thrown at him, the smiles, even a few bows that Jeno can't understand. Jeno doesn't have time to wonder why he draws so much attention, or if he has always received it but he was too immersed in his own world to notice, since Renjun steps out next and Jeno's mind goes blank.

It's strange that it feels like Jeno hasn't seen Renjun in a whole eternity. Scary, too. He doesn't remember him being this pretty, this bright, nor does he remember the effect of that smile in his guts. Renjun smiles and blinds Jeno's world until he's the only person he can focus on; and he looks so happy too, like he's on the same wavelength with Jeno.

“Hi, Je-” Renjun starts, glancing up at him with sparkling eyes.

Perhaps it's that mixture of feeling happy and knowing that his mere presence makes Renjun happy that pushes Jeno to be so impulsive. He closes the distance between them, cupping Renjun's face between his hands, and molds his lips against Renjun's mouth, a shiver whipping down his spine.

They've never kissed in public; in fact, they haven't even held hands. Jeno isn't ashamed of public gestures of affection, but he didn't need to ask to sense that Renjun doesn't like being so open – either about their relationship or even about his sexuality. Right now, however, Renjun responds to the kiss with equal enthusiasm, and when he pulls away, it's only because he's smiling so wide that they can't kiss anymore.

There's tenderness in his gaze as he looks at Jeno and whispers, “Okay, that was a bit unexpected.”

“Sorry, I just saw you and-”

“I know,” Renjun cuts him off, shaking his head. To Jeno's relief, he's not mad, or at least he's pretending not to be. Renjun strokes his neck and whispers, “Let's get out of here so I can kiss you in peace.”

Peace is all they need, and all Jeno feels when they're together. They end up in Renjun's apartment, cooking their own food while Jeno praises Renjun's cooking skills. To be precise, his lack of skills, since he moves around the kitchen like there's no danger, almost putting his hand in heated pans and cutting onions with the knife in a horrible position. Jeno is just too afraid that he'll slice his fingers to let Renjun cook, and thus he has to take care of most of the food.

With their stomachs full and Renjun safe and sound, they settle in the living room to do their homework. Renjun finishes first, mocks Jeno for it and then lies on the floor to read a book – and Renjun is right, Jeno is painfully slow with his work, but it's just because he prefers to stare at Renjun rather than at his notes. Sometimes he finds himself observing Renjun for no reason, before realizing that he hasn’t paid attention to his work in a long time.

Renjun likes that too, and he gives himself away as soon as Jeno manages to ignore him and drown into his notes. One moment Jeno's head is fully invested in English grammar, and the next Renjun is straddling him, pushing his notes away with a falsely innocent smile plastered on his face.

Jeno's hands loosen around the notes by instinct, and Renjun laughs at how fast he drops them on the floor and sets his grip around Renjun's hips.

“You're a nuisance,” Jeno teases him.

Instead of fighting, Renjun simply leans downward and meets him in an impatient, open-mouthed kiss. After a whole weekend, the amount of tension that has accumulated is unspeakable, and quite unexplainable. Renjun's tongue is the most elucidating way to express it. Jeno takes that as a challenge, licking into his mouth and melting against the tender strokes of Renjun's hands over his shoulders and chest.

Jeno isn't sure if the kiss lasts a minute or ten, but both of them are breathless by the time they take a moment to regain some oxygen.

“I am,” Renjun confirms, faint words that Jeno has trouble to grasp. “But I have a feeling that you like nuisances.”

Jeno lets out a chuckle that gets sealed by Renjun's lips. Of course he loves this; the familiarity, the trust Renjun shows in him, and overall, knowing that Renjun's emotions are strong as his.

“I like you so much,” Jeno whispers, closing his eyes. Renjun presses a trail of pecks around his mouth, taunting him. Jeno appreciates them as much as a kiss, and he relaxes at Renjun's affection, the truth naturally slipping past his lips. “So much.”

Jeno doesn't dare to open his eyes and take in Renjun's reaction, but after his words there's no ruckus. It's all in his head. Renjun isn’t going to run away from him just because he’s sincere, and in fact Renjun is far from surprised as he leaves another sweet kiss on his mouth.

“I like you too,” he admits, so calmly that his serenity is amazing.

But Jeno gets it. He stares into Renjun's gaze and supposes that, if they're so sure of themselves and of each other, Jeno shouldn't be afraid of expressing his feelings out loud. Renjun isn't afraid, words so clear and firm that Jeno could never doubt him. Lies or not, Jeno believes him. He can make an effort for him for once.

When Jeno breathes again, Renjun is already tapping his fingers down his chest, looking into his eyes as he slowly unbuttons Jeno’s shirt. Jeno can’t help but grin at Renjun’s obviousness, but Renjun kills his insolent joy by peppering kisses on his neck. It’s not a bad exchange, turning down Jeno’s amusement in favor of pleasure. It works wonders on Jeno, who has to shut his eyes, drowning in the feeling of Renjun’s hands on his chest, on his abdomen, and in the force of his thighs as he straddles him harder.

A cascade of heat takes over him with every touch, and that’s when Jeno can’t help but touch Renjun too. He tugs at his jeans, unzips them even if Renjun isn’t a good position to get rid of them, and pulls them down enough to grab Renjun’s butt over his underwear. Renjun’s frame is tiny compared to his, and Jeno can hold his ass with just one hand. That hold allows him to drag Renjun against his crotch, the fastest way to tell him that he agrees with him.

Renjun predicts his moves, but he still lets out a faint gasp when he feels Jeno’s dick, half hard through his pants. Jeno laughs at him, especially because they’ve talked about how easy he is before; Jeno doesn’t do it on purpose, and it’s hard to be embarrassed at how his body reacts to Renjun. It’s Renjun’s magic to rile him up in a matter of seconds, without much effort. A few kisses and suddenly Jeno is ready to fuck him, and that’s just more proof that he’s completely whipped for him on all levels.

“I love undressing you,” Renjun mutters, sliding Jeno’s shirt off his shoulders.

Jeno doesn’t have strength to laugh anymore. Renjun is a peculiar species of special, and so are the butterflies in Jeno’s insides. When he arches up, bringing Renjun down and pressing his crotch against him, Jeno’s body combusts into flames.

They don’t rush through it. Renjun likes teasing him, and keeping his clothes on for longer than he should is the best strategy to make Jeno run out of patience. Jeno remains on his back as Renjun strips for him down to his underwear, and only when Renjun leaves the couch to get some lube, Jeno is free to kick down his pants and stroke himself to full hardness.

It’s a mistake to close his eyes, but it’s his only way to control himself as he jerks off. Jeno doesn’t hear Renjun come back, so the feeling of a new set of fingers around his dick drags a moan out of him. Jeno blinks his eyes open to fix his stare on Renjun, just to find out pure mirth and malice in Renjun’s eyes; Renjun straddles him again, a knowing shade on his expressing, his attention hooked on Jeno.

He’s so pretty, Jeno thinks, the kind of boy Jeno started dreaming about when he was twelve and discovered that he liked boys. It’s difficult to understand how someone can be so perfect in every sense; sometimes Jeno feels like he’s going to wake up and realize that this isn’t happening. That Renjun isn’t on top of him, staring down at him like he’s his center of gravity, that those beautiful eyes aren’t set on him, that Renjun isn’t willing to feel, to touch, to kiss him.

A questioning eyebrow up, Renjun strokes over his hipbone with one hand, and with the other he opens the lube and drops it all over Jeno’s dick. Both Jeno and his cock twitch at the cold lube, but Renjun gives him a look that silences any of his complaints. The contrast feels good anyhow, even if it’s just because Renjun is there to attentively watch him, trying not to smile at his sensitiveness.

“Don’t be such a baby,” Renjun points out, noticing his tension.

Renjun’s warm touch helps him to relax, his palm slicking Jeno’s dick up and down, and Jeno’s attention drifts to how pretty Renjun’s fingers look around him. He’s good at this, maybe from his own experience, but still Jeno marvels at how fast Renjun always finds his weak spots. He’s starting to memorize them, he realizes, less exploring and more purposeful strokes that get Renjun the reaction he’s looking for. He uses the middle of his thumbs to rub and press on his veins, his index finger to play with the slit of Jeno’s dick until he’s panting, body on edge and all his blood in his crotch, not in his head.

Only then does Renjun indulge him, and Jeno rushes to hook his fingertips in Renjun’s underwear and get rid of the last piece of cloth. Renjun is hard too, just as aroused as him, but he doesn’t let Jeno return the favor even if Jeno sends him a pleading look.

Instead of that, Renjun allows him to sit up and fish for another kiss. It’s not a calm kiss anymore, it’s full of want and all the things that can’t be explained with words, and it’s the only signal that Renjun’s patience is a façade. Renjun stays entangled in his mouth as he tilts on his knees, giving Jeno space to guide his own dick inside him. They go slow, as slow as Renjun needs, and Renjun’s thighs start trembling when he lowers on Jeno’s cock.

It’s not the first time that Renjun prefers to use the lube on Jeno instead of fingering himself, and Jeno would be lying if he said he doesn’t love how tight Renjun feels when Jeno doesn’t prepare him first. Renjun likes it too, lips parted in a mute moan, unable to respond to Jeno’s kisses anymore.

“Holy shit,” Jeno groans, tightening his hold on Renjun’s hips. Renjun doesn’t stop, just taking more and more of him, and Jeno has to remind him, “Slow, Jun, it’s going to be too much.”

It’s too much for Jeno as well. Jeno has never asked why, but it’s evident that the harder Jeno goes on him, the more Renjun enjoys it. Sometimes Renjun forces the situation himself, and it’s the case now, as Jeno’s dick stretches him without any tenderness. Jeno admits that there’s something fascinating about Renjun, who looks so pretty and delicate, liking raw, rough sex.

And when Jeno grasps his waist and bottoms out, pleasure rippling through him, Renjun moans so loud that Jeno nearly comes right away. That’s the reason he gives both of them a few seconds, Renjun hooking his chin on his shoulder, silently giving him permission to take the lead.

“So hot,” Jeno mumbles into his ear. He caresses Renjun’s back, slants his head to kiss his shoulder, and praises him, “So good for me.”

Renjun is about to respond, but then Jeno cups his ass and moves him, and he chokes on his words. It mustn’t be all that important, because Renjun forgets about it and follows the pace that Jeno’s hands are marking for him, calmly rocking his hips.

It’s always a rollercoaster with Renjun. They start slow, but not careful. Renjun does all the hard work in the beginning, and he does it now too, riding Jeno until he finds the perfect rhythm for the both of them. That part of the rollercoaster is sweet, weak tension building up in Jeno’s stomach at the tightness that surrounds his dick. Renjun keeps him in place with every roll of his hips, and all the things that Jeno adores bare themselves progressively: the harshness of Renjun’s movements when he loses the last remainders of shyness; the print of his fingers in Renjun's cheeks, and the way his moans become hoarse when Jeno's strokes deepen.

Renjun’s thighs tense with every stroke, but then they’re moving at the same time, meeting in the middle, and Jeno throws his head back to control himself. Renjun’s panting becomes more evident, even if he tries to suffocate it in small breaths, and that just drives Jeno to push inside him a little bit deeper.

Jeno isn't aware of the noises he's making, or of how hard his grip on Renjun is, but it's too late to be embarrassed. That embarrassment is worth just to see how Renjun's eyes darken, to drown their lust in each other, sweetness evaporating as the rollercoaster starts moving up.

“I want to turn you around,” Jeno blurts out, threading his fingers in Renjun's hair, pulling back to plant a kiss on his Adam's apple. “Please.”

Renjun doesn't answer, just sends him a curt nod as a response. Jeno understands him enough to know that he's fine with it, but that he's not capable of speaking anymore. He's a mess of limbs and pants while Jeno holds him up and spins him around.

The couch isn't the best place to put Renjun on all fours, but he's so tiny that he fits without trouble. Jeno doesn't miss how Renjun holds onto the couch's arm, sinking his face in it as Jeno positions behind him again.

This time, Jeno isn't that careful. It's a combination of his impatience and how much he enjoys having Renjun like this, and he doesn’t have to warn Renjun before slamming into him. Renjun takes it with a moan, gripping the couch with his nails, but he clenches around Jeno's dick as if he has hit all the right spots all at once.

It's such a beautiful view for Jeno. Renjun's curves make him crazy, and it's not just because Jeno actually likes him beyond sex. He has a tiny waist that widens a bit at the hips, the perfect shape for Jeno to grab him by the waist and feel that he can set the rhythm. The dip of his spine, an arch where Jeno can seal a dozen kisses until he sees goosebumps run over Renjun's skin. And then his ass, which Jeno would have never imagined like this through the clothes; it's perfect, like all of Renjun, and it's even more perfect when Jeno's dick is inside of him.

Finding the pace again is easier, and Renjun submits to the strength of Jeno's hands as he slams his hips forward and brings Renjun back onto his dick. It's deeper every time, and so is the warmth that sits at the pit of Jeno's stomach. The apartment is so empty that only the noise of skin hitting skin resonates, and Jeno has to fist Renjun's hair and tug him upwards to hear his moans.

It's a blessing and a curse at the same time, because the moan that Renjun releases next is so guttural that it goes directly to Jeno's dick. Jeno hisses, stopping for a second, and Renjun pushes back so that he doesn't slow down. That's the last straw for Jeno, whose eyes settle on Renjun's body and don't leave him again, speeding to fuck into him faster.

Right away, Jeno feels Renjun come undone before him. Renjun presses his mouth on the couch, but not even that can muffle his moans, not when Jeno knows how to make him lose his mind.

“Oh my god,” Renjun says, turning his head just enough to be heard. Jeno predicts his next words, because Renjun's muscles stiffen and his voice breaks as he cries out, “I'm going to come, Jeno, I-”

Before Renjun can finish, Jeno sneaks an arm around him and fists his dick. It's almost funny how Renjun arches at the touch, so needy that he loses all modesty, Jeno just fucks him harder, tightens his grip around Renjun's cock. This is Jeno's favorite part: feeling Renjun's pleasure as he comes, shaking in an endless moan and clenching around Jeno.

It should be shameful that's the reason Jeno comes too; because Renjun is tighter when he's coming, and because it's when he looks the most delicate and vulnerable compared to Jeno. The power of knowing that he can make Renjun feel this good is what brings Jeno to come too, bending over Renjun's back to kiss his nape.

Renjun crumbles down under him, and Jeno falls back on the couch, aware that he will crush Renjun if he lies on him. He needs to breathe first, but he curls an arm around Renjun's thighs to feel him, uncomfortable with the idea of detaching from him so soon.

Just after Jeno has recovered his breath, Renjun climbs on his lap again, laughter bubbling from his mouth. Jeno feels jittery when their mouths meet in such a lazy, carefree kiss, one that confirms that they don't have to worry about anything else around each other. At first Jeno doesn't understand why Renjun keeps giggling, but then Renjun embraces him in a tight hug and Jeno is able to see the mess they've made on the couch.

“Sorry,” Jeno blurts out, lamenting the mess. A couple of sheets are easier to wash than a couch, and Jeno should have proposed to go to bed first, or at least to come having in consideration that he was going to spoil Renjun's couch. “It's a disaster.”

“I came first, why are you apologizing?” Renjun scolds him. He sighs, nuzzling Jeno's neck with a happy noise, and Jeno closes his eyes for a few seconds, overwhelmed by his own feelings. He doesn't want this to ever end, secrets and mysteries aside, and he wishes he could make Renjun's life a mess every day, every hour. “Let's take a shower and then we'll decide what we're going to do with this.”

That sounds like a good idea. Especially because when Renjun slides off him, his gaze hints at much more than a simple shower; Jeno doesn't know if he can take another round, but no one can stop him from trying.

“You’re leaving again?” Jeno looks up from his phone, where his attention has been fixed for the last half an hour. Unlike him, Renjun has been obstinately studying for his exam, at least until now. After dropping the news, Renjun looks at him with wide, sorrowful eyes, and Jeno grumbles, “Renjun, it’s Tuesday, and you came back yesterday.”

Renjun has his exam on Friday, and he won’t be able to study enough if he’s travelling or spending time with his family. That bothers Jeno. He might be selfish sometimes because he wants to hog Renjun for himself, but this time it’s not a matter of possessiveness and how whipped he is. Jeno cares about Renjun, and thus he can’t understand why his family would demand him to ignore his other responsibilities – important responsibilities for his future.

“I know,” Renjun sighs. Oddly enough, it seems like he’s apologizing to Jeno rather than being annoyed for himself. He reaches for Jeno’s hand over the study table, glancing behind him first to check if any other student in the library is listening to them. “But I have to. I don’t have a choice.”

Jeno tries to understand it. It’s not in his hands to judge Renjun’s family, but he can’t help it; what he can avoid is expressing it out loud. He’s sure that Renjun would get angry at him, and though it might be an experience to see placid, happy Renjun be mad for once, Jeno doesn’t want to hurt him in any way, even if it’s for one second.

“They don’t care that you have to skip classes?” Jeno opts for instead, repressing the reproach in his tone.

Renjun must intuit his thoughts, because he tilts his head, studying Jeno. One second later he seems to find what he’s looking for: a grin spreads on his face, becoming bigger and bigger, a hint of sweetness to it.

“Skipping isn’t a big deal, you mister right,” Renjun teases in a whisper.

The accusation brings some warmth to Jeno’s cheeks – especially because Renjun is quite righteous himself – but he defends himself with a, “You’re a bad influence.”

“Maybe I am,” Renjun confirms. He slants to rest against Jeno’s arm, searching for a bit of casual, discreet affection. Jeno has to hold back his own impulses not to plant a kiss on Renjun’s head, especially as Renjun looks up at him with those pleading stares he has mastered. “Are you telling me you wouldn’t skip for me?”

“That’s not fair,” Jeno complains. It’s not even a question, because Jeno has already skipped a few times just because he was more interested in spreading Renjun’s legs apart than in grammar.  It’s an attack, and Renjun knows how to shoot him down. “You’re an exception.”

Skeptical, Renjun raises his eyebrows at him, but that façade crumbles down as soon as Jeno pouts. Jeno angles his head to silently ask for a kiss, even though most of his attempts are usually ignored unless they’re alone, and Renjun indulges him for once. He leaves a sweet peck on Jeno’s mouth, long enough for Jeno to take advantage and wrap his hand behind Renjun’s nape. To his surprise, Renjun doesn’t pull away at first, only when Jeno deepens the kiss and his breathing starts speeding up.

“Calm down,” Renjun warns him, setting a hand on his chest to keep him in place. He doesn’t sound very calm himself, but he closes his eyes, breathes deeply, and reminds Jeno, “We’re going to get kicked out.”

Jeno wouldn’t mind getting a reprimand for this reason, but Renjun frequents this library – while Jeno frequents a library that is on the other side of the campus – and it’d be much more embarrassing for Renjun. Renjun’s pride is the only thing that makes Jeno behave, though he makes a point to pinch Renjun’s thigh under the table, laughing as Renjun jumps in surprise.

“Don’t be mean,” Renjun protests. A cute frown blooms on his face, but he rubs his thighs a few times and all his pain dissipates, or so it seems, since he spins around to send an innocent look to Jeno and ask,“Want to skip your afternoon classes until I leave?”

Jeno doesn't know how many battles he's going to lose, but he knows that Renjun is indeed a bad influence.

But again, Renjun leaves, and Jeno starts thinking.

After a couple of months with Renjun, Jeno has found a stability that he would have never expected. It's strange for him, but even stranger for his friends, who have a hard time wrapping their heads around the concept of Jeno having a boyfriend.

Jeno's boyfriend, who fades from time to time, leaving a moping Jeno behind. At first, Donghyuck is petty every time Jeno goes back to them, but Jeno knows that his puppy eyes are hard to resist. No matter if he has to split his time between Renjun and his friends now, Donghyuck can't withhold his pride for too long. Jaemin takes it with more ease, as if it's natural, and even though Jeno suspects that it might be because he expects Renjun to behave that way - and therefore expects Jeno to be in this situation - he appreciates Jaemin's attitude in contrast to Donghyuck's.

"I feel like the second choice," Donghyuck accuses Jeno while they're stepping into one of Mark's shabby parties. The only consolation is that Mark didn't organize this party, but a quick inspection tells Jeno that whichever friend invited Mark, he's the same species of careless.

Behind them, Jaemin snickers, scanning the living room of the frat house to find any familiar faces. Jeno doesn't need to ask to suppose that he's looking for Mark, and that just like Jeno ditches them in favor of Renjun pretty often, Jaemin will follow his steps tonight with Mark.

"That's because you're the second choice," Jaemin retorts, patting Donghyuck's butt.

"You wish," is all Donghyuck comes up with, disarmed. Both Jaemin and Jeno laugh at him, their voices barely muffled by the music, and Donghyuck clings harder onto Jeno's arm so that he can't abandon him in the middle of the party. "Why don't you go smooch your boy and let me be?"

Jeno nearly chokes on his saliva, but he manages to pretend before Jaemin's gaze settles on him. This is a topic they have decided not to discuss, not until Jaemin reveals the truth himself, or until Donghyuck, like he's doing now, uses it against Jaemin. Besides respect, one of the reasons Jeno wanted to wait was because they might be wrong. Sometimes all the signs point to a road because someone has changed the signs, and Donghyuck and Jeno could have misinterpreted the whole situation.

"My boy?" Jaemin repeats, equally confused and annoyed. "I'm not going to smooch anyone."

Jeno elbows Donghyuck to prevent him from falling into that nonsensical argument, but it's so rough that Jaemin notices. The look they exchange is beyond awkward, and Jeno plasters his most false smile to appease Jaemin.

"Sure," Donghyuck chirps, enchanted with how Jeno has betrayed himself within a second. He shoves Jaemin forward, and insists, "Go."

Jaemin doesn't need permission to look for Mark, so he just rolls his eyes and leaves them behind, prompting a trail of laughter in both of them. He loses a bit of self-respect, which is what Donghyuck intends, but Jaemin deems Mark more important than fighting a pride war with Donghyuck.

Jeno isn't the most extroverted person in the world, but he manages parties pretty well, and Donghyuck is the perfect partner for that. They don't drink much, chat up some freshmen and tease Jisung, one of the youngest ones, for a while because he's already tipsy while everyone else is sober. They cross paths with Mark and Jaemin more than once, but most of the time they're too focused on each other to notice anyone else's presence. Donghyuck takes a couple of pictures of them together for research, which translates to blackmail in human language.

The party isn't boring, but it's messy, full of fratboys and people who lose control after the first hour. Jeno isn't in the mood to deal with drunk people, and just with a few sips of the drink Donghyuck gave him, his mind spirals into anguish.

He accepts that Renjun has his own life, but he can’t understand why it implies this lifestyle. When Jeno is with him, all is perfect. It’s so perfect that it feels like it came out of a fairytale; but then Renjun is gone, and it’s the opposite of a fairytale. It hurts not to have a reason. It hurts not to have Renjun like Jeno would have had him if he acted like any other twenty-year-old. Donghyuck is here today, and he’s always around the city except for a couple of times every semester when he goes back home. It’s pretty much the same for Mark and Jaemin as well. It’s not normal that Renjun has to meet his family almost every week, that he has to cancel plans with Jeno all of a sudden, or that in consequence sometimes Jeno stays in his bedroom doing nothing because everyone else is busy.

"If it helps you, I'm sad Renjun isn't here too," Donghyuck says, coming up from behind to rest his chin on Jeno’s shoulder. Jeno doesn’t reject the back hug, both because Donghyuck is clingier when he drinks and because Jeno needs the comfort. "He makes parties much more interesting."

It’s shameful that Jeno’s thoughts are so transparent that Donghyuck doesn’t have to ask what’s bothering him first. He knows. And Mark and Jaemin must know as well, even if they would never dare to be so direct about it.

"More than I do, you mean,” Jeno corrects him with a little smile.

It’s true that Renjun has a talent for parties, or for people in general, and can seamlessly fit in any ambient. If Jeno thinks about it twice, it might even be a bit unfair for the rest of humankind that Renjun is so good at everything.

Donghyuck shrugs. "I like new flesh. He's weird, and you're in a better mood when he's with us."

Jeno bites his bottom lip, trying not to fall into a cascade of praise towards Renjun. Donghyuck will be unforgiving later on, and he already has many reasons to torture Jeno.

“I feel like an idiot for missing him,” he admits in the end. Donghyuck makes a strange noise that Jeno can’t distinguish between a puking noise or cooing. “Is this how dogs feel? Just lying around and waiting for someone to come back.”

Donghyuck starts laughing so hard that he has to break away. Jeno isn’t aware of how ridiculous his comparison is until he turns around and takes in Donghyuck’s expression.

“Damn, dude, that’s so sad,” Donghyuck remarks. “And that would make Renjun your owner.”

Jeno jokes, “I can’t say he isn’t.”

That seems to destroy Donghyuck’s will to console him, maybe because that’s an amount of cheesiness he can’t stand, and he scrunches his nose and grumbles, “Disgusting.”

Disgusting is an understatement. Jeno knows that both Renjun and he stick to each other with an intensity that can be displeasing to their friends, but he doesn’t care. It feels like an extension of what they’re becoming, and there’s no reason to hide it. The problem is that in moments like this one, when Jeno irrationally needs Renjun by his side, the nature of their relationship plays against his favor.

Donghyuck doesn’t tease him anymore, but both of them decide to go home not long after. Before leaving, they check on Jaemin, who they find hanging off Mark’s arm. It’s evident that he’s not going to accompany them home, and there are situations that it’s better not to interrupt, so Jeno drags Donghyuck away in case he wants to make ruin their night just for fun.

To Jeno’s luck, he’s sober enough to drop Donghyuck at his dorm and walk all the way to his own flat. There are no buses at this time of the night – almost morning – so he has to lament that he’s going to freeze because he went out with a simple jacket.

However, right when he’s walking up his alley, his gaze catches sight of someone by his building and being cold becomes the most insignificant thing in the world. It’s almost four in the morning, and given that Jeno has drunk a bit, he rubs his eyes in case he’s imagining this.

Renjun has gloves, a scarf and a hat covering him, and he has lowered his head between his knees for warmth, but Jeno can recognize him just by his presence. Jeno doesn’t have time to wonder what is going on – when, how or why Renjun came back, or why he didn’t warn him beforehand – because suddenly his only concern is to make sure that Renjun is fine.

He doesn’t look that fine at first glance, because when Renjun looks up in surprise, his cheeks and the tip of his nose are red, turning purple. And then he lifts his chin, the scarf slipping down his face, and Jeno has a better view of Renjun’s fear.

“Oh god,” Jeno cries out. He crouches down to take Renjun by his hands and pull him up, and then refuses to share a greeting kiss, much to Renjun’s disappointment. It’s an unconscious gesture, because Jeno is in a rush to shove Renjun into the building, and the last of his worries is kissing him. “Why didn’t you call me?”

Renjun makes a protesting noise, but Jeno doesn’t let go until they’re inside the elevator. He holds Renjun’s hands between his, and though he’s not very warm himself, he rubs Renjun’s hands, gloves included, in an attempt to give him some heat.

“I wanted it to be a little surprise,” Renjun confesses then, like that justifies this awful idea.

Now that Jeno can finally breathe in peace, he takes his time to look at Renjun. Not at the signs of freezing on his face, but at the way his eyes gaze up at him, at how unconditional Renjun’s dedication is. Jeno understands why Renjun deems his idea completely normal, because Jeno would do this for him as well.

A little surprise.

It’s a big surprise. Jeno expected to spend the night alone, and the fact that Renjun rushed back to campus might be a small gesture, but it means the whole world to him. It probably has some relation to Jeno’s whining, and it’s proof that a simple complaint has affected Renjun to the point of wanting to compensate Jeno. Jeno should feel bad for it, but he’s too happy to process anything that isn’t Renjun and his cute face in front of him.

“You’re into that, huh?” Jeno hums, pleased. Renjun eagerly nods, not minding if Jeno makes fun of him, but quite pleased with himself. “I hate that you look cute even when you’re all red in the face.”

Renjun laughs out loud, harder as Jeno tries to sink his face in his neck. That’s where he lands the first kiss, pulling Renjun’s scarf down, his adam’s apple vibrating with laughter. Renjun gets saved by the bell of the elevator, but he grasps Jeno by the jacket and hauls him out of the elevator, both of them giggling.

“Silence,” Renjun orders him, but he’s the one with less control between the two. He lets Jeno fumble around with his keys, distracting him by leaving pecks all over his nape. “Your flatmates will kill you.”

“Yeah?” Jeno responds, taking Renjun’s word as a challenge. “Worth it.”

He manages to open the door at last, and Renjun immediately hugs him from behind, demanding his attention right away. His flatmates will hate him tomorrow anyway, and that hatred has just been growing since he started bringing Renjun over, for obvious reasons.

It’s too late to fix his loud mistakes, or Renjun’s loud mistakes for that matter, and that’s why Jeno just removes Renjun’s scarf and leans closer, letting his body talk for itself.

Renjun grins up at him, the pink of his cheeks due to a different reason this time, and claims, “Then I’ll have to shut you up myself.”

If Jeno had to make a list of his favorite Renjun things, their night walks would take the top spot.

Weeks flash by Jeno's eyes, and Renjun seamlessly becomes a routine in his life. There’s no concept of time when they’re together – any moment with Renjun is never enough, and Jeno gets used to asking for more, wanting more. And just like Renjun becomes a routine, so does meeting at night, even if they've been busy all day and they don't feel like leaving their beds, or even if they have an exam the next morning, or even if they have to ditch their friends

Jeno doesn't remember who came up with the idea, but he grows addicted to it. Strolling around his or Renjun's neighborhood, holding hands, turns into his piece of healing every day, especially after all the stress of university and his responsibilities. Sometimes, when he sees Renjun standing outside his dorm, it’s the first time he smiles in the whole day. They tell each other about their day, make plans for the weekend, and get advice and energy from each other. Renjun doesn’t have much complaining to do, but Jeno does. Renjun always laughs when Jeno complains about Jaemin and Mark, who are still pretending that they're not dating, and reminds him that they only have to drag them to a double date and interrogate them.

Their night walks are such a simple treat, and yet that's all Jeno needs to be happy. Either in Renjun's bed or in his own tiny room, he lies down at night and realizes, with his thoughts embroiled around Renjun's existence, that he might be in love. And it's unstoppable, out of Jeno's hands, as it should be. If that's the way Renjun feels too, Jeno doesn't have anything to fear, and thus he doesn’t.

Renjun becomes a pattern in his friend’s lives as well; for better and for worse, Donghyuck, Mark and Jaemin mold well to that change. More than once Jeno forgets about plans and shows up with Renjun in tow, but his friends like Renjun enough not to protest – or they don’t dare to tell Renjun to leave. There are subtle jabs at Jeno, however, about how he can’t breathe if Renjun isn’t around, about how he isn’t Jeno anymore, but Jeno and Renjun. Maybe they’re right, maybe Jeno can’t breathe if Renjun isn’t with him.

And Jeno is fine with it, really. He’s sure that he has it under control. They’re together because they want and choose to be, not because Jeno would wither without him – he misses Renjun when he’s not around, but it’s good for Jeno’s spirit to suffer a bit and to understand that holding Renjun down by force isn’t healthy for any of them.

Still, Jeno can’t fight against the slippery trail of jealousy when Donghyuck shows up at his faculty’s cafeteria and announces, “Lover boy told me he can't come tonight.”

It’s an important night. It’s Jaemin’s birthday, which they’ve been preparing for almost two weeks, a surprise party that Jaemin doesn’t suspect at all and that required a lot of mingling with his flatmates – which, for the record, Jeno dislikes. It was a peculiar sort of torture, and Jeno can’t believe that Renjun is dumping them at the last minute.

“What?” Jeno asks, gawking at Donghyuck. He stares at the tray in front of him with a frown, trying to drown this new feeling of pain. Renjun resorted to Donghyuck instead of him, perhaps just to avoid a confrontation with Jeno. That’s the last of his problems now, and he shouldn’t be worried about Donghyuck and Renjun being fond of each other; he should be happy. “Why?”

Donghyuck sits before him, leaving his bag aside and leaning over the table to steal Jeno’s food. “It was a sudden thing, apparently, but he made me promise I wouldn't be an asshole and would assure you that he's going to call you in a couple of hours.”

Jeno grumbles, not bothering to hide his annoyance. Renjun could have messaged him. Using Donghyuck to make his excuses flourish doesn’t settle well with Jeno, who thinks that they’re over that phase. He’s not going to scream or argue with Renjun if he’s truly busy, and Renjun knows that, but he’s acting like a coward nonetheless.

“What can be more important that my best friend’s birthday?” Jeno complains. Not because it’s Jaemin, that’s a given, but because he fears that Jaemin will suppose that Renjun doesn’t want to be there on his birthday. He mumbles, “What the fuck.”

Donghyuck sends him a pitiful look. “Maybe you should ask him instead of getting angry.”

That’s the mature decision, but Donghyuck doesn’t understand that Jeno’s patience isn’t endless. It’s difficult not to be angry, and Jeno is certain that he’d be calmer if Renjun had given him a heads up himself – but it was in the form of a bomb dropped by Donghyuck, and Jeno can’t appreciate that. Those manners, the bitter aftertaste, all so improper of Renjun.

“It’s always the same, Donghyuck,” Jeno retorts. He has hindered this negativity since he started dating Renjun for obvious reasons, because Renjun made him so happy that Jeno felt ungrateful for wanting more, but today the bad news has ruined his composure. Frustration swells up in his head until the pressure is unbearable, and he just grunts, “Some weekends he disappears because he’s busy, no explanations, and I just have to swallow it and shut my mouth.”

Donghyuck’s eyes soften at his rambling, and Jeno can’t help but feel embarrassed. Donghyuck never looks at him this way, like he wants to help him, like he understands that Jeno is hurt because he really cares about Renjun, otherwise they wouldn’t be having this conversation. Jeno is incapable of tossing Renjun away from his mind for one night to enjoy Jaemin’s birthday.

“But he knows all about me,” Jeno continues with a sigh. Renjun knows more than how many moles Jeno has under his clothes and the special spots that make him melt under his kisses; Jeno has shared everything and everyone with him, never asking for anything in return. “I swear to god that right now he’d win against my mom in a Jeno quiz.”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Donghyuck scoffs, “A Jeno quiz.” He covers his mouth when Jeno glares at him for laughing, awkwardly shifting on the chair. “Sorry, it was funny. But of course he would win, he has the advantage of knowing how you like your dick sucked.”

Jeno makes a disgusted face. “God. Don’t think about Renjun sucking my dick, you don’t have permission to do that.”

That’s the exact type of encouragement that Donghyuck needs to contradict him, so Jeno doesn’t take him or his smirk seriously.

“I think about it all the time,” he jokes, tapping his fingers on the table. Upon Jeno’s lack of response, since he’s too troubled to find Donghyuck’s humor acceptable, Donghyuck sighs. “Come on, Jeno. I know this upsets you but we need to have fun for Jaemin. Tonight love fights are forbidden until we’re sober.”

He has a point. If Renjun is gone, there isn’t much that Jeno can do to bring him back; he wishes that there was a way, that he could just chase him through the country and remind him that they’re together when it comes to Renjun’s problems and when it comes to Jeno’s commitments with his friends as well.

“I guess Jaemin will be happier if Renjun isn’t there,” is Jeno’s conclusion. It’s just Jeno who won’t be that content. He and his selfishness, hand in hand, should get out of the picture. “So maybe this is for the better.”

“Don’t say that,” Donghyuck moans, both amused and uncomfortable at Jeno’s sincerity. Jaemin likes Renjun, but there’s a frontier between them; they always try to cross the line just to be pushed back, and the sentiment is mutual. Jeno just observes them in resignation, trying to accept that not everyone is going to be best friends just because Jeno wants them to be. “They get along. Some days.”

Jeno just has to lift his eyebrows for Donghyuck to shut up.

Renjun doesn’t fulfill his promise: he doesn’t call him after a couple of hours.

Time crawls on Jeno’s skin with feet made of knives and claws that don’t let him go. The birthday seems to be far away while the day passes by; Jeno sits through the rest of his classes with his heart in a fist, checking his phone every other minute because he’s afraid that he will miss Renjun’s call.

Except there’s no chance for Jeno to miss something that never happens. He returns to his dorm, dragging his feet and containing the urge to cry – he doesn’t want to cry for a matter as petty as this. It’s not the first time Renjun vanishes out of the blue, and he always comes back with a smile, eager to see Jeno and spend time with him. This time is different: the fear of Renjun leaving him isn’t what troubles Jeno. Today Renjun is just failing him during his best friend’s birthday, but tomorrow might be a bigger event. Jeno doesn’t think about Renjun as a pastime, as a fling or someone he will stop loving one day. He thinks about him as the boy he wants to introduce to his parents, the boy he wants to share all the dark and light corners of his life.

However, Renjun’s absence tonight proves that they might not be on the same path, that perhaps Jeno has built a whole fantasy in his head that doesn’t take Renjun’s plans into consideration.

It’s quite terrible.

Jeno throws his bag under his bed as soon as he steps into his room, and then allows himself to choke on his misery on the bed for a while. He has at least four hours until the birthday guests start invading Jaemin’s flat, and in that period he has to find a way to pretend that he’s in the mood for a party.

Predicting that he might drift off to sleep, Jeno sets a couple of alarms. It isn’t the alarm that tear him away from his peaceful nap, though. It’s Renjun’s name on the screen, a song ripping through the silence of his room, and Jeno’s heart speeding up until blood blocks his ears.

Jeno doesn’t hesitate to pick up. He doesn’t have any words ready, but his pathetic self just needs to hear Renjun’s voice for reassurance, to confirm if Renjun is conscious of what’s happening. Relief washes over him when he hears Renjun’s breathing, but there are no greetings, just a shaky sigh before Renjun speaks.

“Please, please, don’t be mad-” is what Renjun utters from the other side.

That’s better than pretending that Jeno shouldn’t be angry. It makes Jeno feel less crazy, justifies his anxiety, and at the same time it ignites the worst of him.

“Really?” Jeno responds, allowing sourness to flourish in his voice. He can’t believe that Renjun cares more about that than about giving him an explanation, but he supposes that Renjun might not have a good excuse after all. “You ditched me through Donghyuck, it can’t get more humiliating than that.”

There’s a pause, as if Renjun is choosing his words carefully, and then he mutters, “I wouldn’t have done that if I’d had another option.”

Renjun indeed has many other options. He has the option of being truthful to Jeno, instead of evaporating and then returning to his arms like he has no right to feel betrayed. He has the option of communicating with him and not through a friend, just because he can’t bear the weight of his own wrongdoings.

“Sure.” Jeno feels his own throat constrict, words rougher. It’s easier to drown in negative feelings when he doesn’t have Renjun in front of him. “What’s so important that couldn’t wait? At least give me an excuse.”

“I’m with my family, Jeno.”

It’s inevitable for Jeno to bite his tongue. Sarcasm slips through his words as he reproaches, “Always that.”

And family is important, Jeno agrees with that. There’s just no need to lie about them, and that’s what Jeno doesn’t manage to understand. He doesn’t care if Renjun’s family are monsters, if he’s embarrassed of them, because at this point Renjun’s behavior is having the opposite effect: Jeno is starting to believe that Renjun is ashamed of him, not of his family.

“Baby,” Renjun calls him, evident guilt in his tone. It’s Jeno who usually likes pet names, but Renjun only uses them if they’re having a serious talk, to calm Jeno down, to remind him that they’re together no matter how ugly their argument is. “This time I have a big problem. We have a big problem.”

Jeno’s heart stop for a moment, his feelings tuning in with Renjun’s broken voice. For the first time today, he detects an emotion akin to fear; it was just exhaustion and regret before that, and Jeno grips his sheets with his free hand, suddenly scared.

“What are you talking about?”

It’s a useless question. Renjun would have told him by now, as soon as he picked up the phone, if he was going to share it with him. He’s beating around the bush because Jeno isn’t showing so much tolerance anymore, but he doesn’t intend to indulge Jeno’s doubts.

“I don’t want to tell you on the phone, you deserve better than this,” Renjun answers. Those words punch through Jeno’s chest, his mind spiraling to the worst possibilities. Renjun is so far away that it’s frustrating, and Jeno can’t reach out to him either emotionally or physically. It’s unfair. “Can you please speak to Jaemin? I know it isn’t the best solution but this is so cold, and I prefer you to know through a friend than through a phone.”

Renjun isn’t breaking up with him, is he? Jeno can’t imagine what sort of problem would involve the two of them, unless Renjun is reevaluating their relationship.

“You’re scaring me, Jun,” Jeno admits, closing his eyes, as though that can protect him from Renjun’s response.

“It’s not that bad.” Renjun is silent for a few seconds, maybe hoping to get reassurance from Jeno too. But Jeno can’t lie to him: Renjun doesn’t sound excessively sure of his words either, and he confirms it with a, “I hope. I’ll be back tomorrow and then we’ll talk, yeah?”

That’s a promise Jeno can latch onto. Just one day and he’ll be able to see the truth in Renjun’s eyes.

“Okay,” Jeno accepts, but it comes out dry, unforgiving.

Renjun whispers a doubtful, “Love you.”

It’s so easy, terribly easy to make Jeno’s insides twist like he’s made of fireworks and snakes. “I love you too, Renjun.”

Jeno doesn’t realize how selfish his decision is until he stalls in front of Jaemin’s apartment, his hand hovering over the doorbell, and hesitation hits every one of his muscles, his nerves and his thoughts.

It’s Jaemin’s birthday, and Jeno and his damn relationship are about to ruin it; he shouldn’t even have considered that following Renjun’s advice was a good idea. Jeno knows that Jaemin doesn’t mind, that he loves him so much that Jeno’s comfort is more urgent than his own birthday, and that Jaemin will scold him if he postpones this.

Still, it’s now or never, so Jeno rings the doorbell in an impulse. Jeno isn’t disposed to destroy the party, and afterwards he won’t have any reason to bother Jaemin, since Renjun will be back.

To Jeno’s luck, it’s Jaemin who opens the door. Jeno isn’t in the right state to maintain a casual talk with any of his flatmates, so his shoulders slump in relief when he recognizes his friend. Jeno hasn’t even taken a look in the mirror before running all the way here, but judging Jaemin’s expression, he looks just as awful as he feels inside.

“Shit,” Jaemin says under his breath, gaze roaming over Jeno’s face. He immediately takes Jeno’s hand, tugs him along so tenderly that it makes Jeno feel more fragile. Maybe he needs this treatment. “Come inside, I’ve already talked to Renjun.”

That’s not soothing news. It sounds like Renjun called Jaemin immediately after hanging up on him. Jeno’s suspicions rise, because that’s proof that this whole mess is related to Renjun’s secret. Only Jaemin knew, and Jaemin himself had already warned Jeno that he couldn’t snitch on him without Renjun’s permission. That barrier has finally disappeared, and though Jeno never wanted to know from Jaemin, it’s his only escape right now.

“What is it?” Jeno asks, feeling a metallic taste on his tongue. Jaemin doesn’t heed his pleading, pulling him towards his bedroom and skipping past his confused flatmates in the living room. Jeno is too worried to care about being polite, so he follows Jaemin, ignoring the other boys, and insists, “Jaemin, tell me what the fuck is going on.”

“First of all, breathe,” Jaemin softly advises him. Jeno doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until Jaemin points it out, and he steps into Jaemin’s room suffering from a strange dizziness. When Jaemin closes the door, Jeno gets the sensation that this place is too small, that he can’t be here for too long or he will choke. “And sit down, I don’t want you to pass out on the floor and hit your head.”

Almost as a reflex, Jeno plops on Jaemin’s bed like a dead weight, both terrified and dumbfounded. “You’re making this worse,” he complains.

Jaemin throws him an empathetic look and whispers, “Wait a second.”

Before Jeno can even open his mouth, Jaemin leaves his own room with big strides. Jeno stays still, his thoughts running in circles. He has no idea why Jaemin supposes that he could faint from the shock. It’s impossible to come up with new theories, since Jeno’s mind is deeper into an agonizing well and he’s just able to imagine bad – and unrealistic – outcomes. In his defense, this whole circus is pretty surrealist, and thus his excessive imagination is justified.

And it becomes even more surrealist as Jaemin walks in with a magazine in his hand, closes the door with his heel, and then extends the magazine towards Jeno. Jeno doesn’t accept it, too confused to understand what Jaemin intends to do with that, and stares at Jaemin with big eyes.

Jaemin agitates it against his face, so Jeno ends up holding the magazine and asks, “Why are you giving me a mag-?”

The magazine unfolds on his thighs, and the cover salutes him like a nightmare taking form in the real world. Jeno’s eyes burn with tears, but he can’t comprehend what he’s seeing – what he’s feeling. He can’t comprehend what’s happening. He blinks down at the magazine several times, expecting the images to change, hoping that this is a figment of his imagination and all the stress in his body is driving him to have hallucinations.

But the pictures stay there, dark but clear, explicit, taken with a professional camera and in angles that don’t leave room for doubt.

“Jeno?” Jaemin calls him, kneeling in front of him.

Jeno can’t focus on Jaemin. His gaze is fixed on the cover, tugging at the wheels of madness and insanity inside his head.

This might be his breaking point, Jeno is certain of that, because his body and mind are completely disjointed. He can sense Jaemin’s concern from miles away, but what reaction did he expect? Did Jaemin expect him to accept this as a normal occurrence and move on?

“This is a joke,” Jeno manages to croak out. His own voice is unrecognizable to his ears. “Tell me this is a joke and you all have orchestrated this shit. Don’t you have a friend in graphic design? I-”

“Jeno, stop.” Jaemin is firm, but he slips his hands over Jeno’s thighs to soothe him, glancing down at him. It’s a challenge for Jeno to finally shift his attention to Jaemin’s face, even if his friend is offering him comfort and a shoulder to cry on – or to ramble on. “We’d never hurt you on purpose.”

Until now, Jeno was sure that Renjun would never hurt him on purpose either. This little lie, however, is anything but little. It’s a monster with thick, long fangs that could kill any human with just one bite – and it’s so big that hiding it from Jeno feels like Renjun enclosed him within four walls and isolated from the world.

Maybe that’s what he has been doing, after all. But just because Jeno couldn’t see the outside world, it didn’t mean that the outside world couldn’t see them. That’s evident, for his face is plastered on a magazine’s cover, his hands around Renjun’s hips and his lips on his pretty mouth. Jeno remembers this moment, and that’s what tears him open from inside: it was one of their first kisses during their night walks, when Renjun finally forgot about what people could think of them if they showed public affection. It’s such an intimate moment. A moment meant to live in Jeno and Renjun’s memory only.

It makes so much sense now. Renjun’s carefulness, his discretion, his stupid games. Even the fact that he didn’t want to give Jeno his phone number explains itself with this information. Jeno might have been innocent and gullible, but Renjun has been a fool too for believing that he could leave all those security measures behind at some point. Perhaps it’s Jeno’s fault, because he convinced him that they were safe, that Renjun could love him in peace.

The big lesson that Jeno learns today makes his confidence plummet, and his heart trails behind until it’s smashed and in pieces. His relationship, his trust in Renjun, his self-esteem, all vanishes into thin air. No one can’t kiss a crown prince in the middle of the street and expect intimacy.

The party is terrible for Jeno, a blur speeding around him, indistinct figures and colors that mix in his peripheral vision.

Jaemin loves the surprise, and Jeno functions only until Jaemin comes back from his classes and gets greeted by around twenty people singing happy birthday in unison. From there on, Jeno disconnects. Someone hands him a drink, and then another, and another one that doesn’t taste like shit anymore because he’s finally drunk.

Jaemin’s friends are having fun, but Jeno sits on the couch and decides to go unnoticed. Being invisible is better than sharing his misery and spoil the party for the rest, and since he doesn’t want to be a bigger inconvenience than he already is, that’s his best strategy.

Despite all that, Jeno tries to cheer up to no avail. Every time he chats someone up, the magazine’s cover obscures his thoughts, and he loses trail of the conversation, staring at the other person without breathing. After a few attempts, he gives up and focuses on following Jaemin around with his gaze. At least Jaemin is happy, dancing with some of his friends and continuously falling into Mark’s arms again and again. Jeno even catches them sneak some kisses, maybe because they’re tipsy enough to believe that they’re being discreet.

Watching them be so happy around each other doesn’t help Jeno. Jaemin’s happiness, as a friend, is a delight to see, but Jeno can’t help but be envious. It’s so easy for Mark and Jaemin, liking each other and progressing to something else without effort. They already know each other to the last detail, so no one can lie, or pretend to be who they aren’t.

It’s so different from what Jeno has with Renjun.

Renjun is a prince. Jeno is dating a Chinese prince that has to take over the crown one day. It doesn’t seem fair, because Jeno didn’t choose this – to have his relationship outed to the whole word, his pictures spreading on online portals and, according to Donghyuck, news channels animatedly announcing that prince Renjun has a love interest. Jeno prefers to live in ignorance, not to know what has filtered and what hasn’t. He guesses that Renjun never had the chance to choose to be who he is, just like Jeno unknowingly fell for him. It isn’t fair for Renjun either.

Of course Renjun kept this a secret. Jeno would have freaked out. That’s what is happening to him tonight, except now there’s no going back. His pictures are public, and he’s past the point of no return, because he loves Renjun, he’s in love with Renjun and everyone knows about it. His feelings are unmovable even if Renjun has been lying to him for so long.

It takes wit, talent and luck at the same time, but Jeno reckons that since Renjun has grown up being a prince, he mastered all his enchanting tricks as a kid. Discretion is natural for him, and still Jeno has ruined that for him, pushing his buttons, assuring him that kissing in public was fine – and it would have been, if Renjun was like any other commoner.

“You’re thinking,” someone grunts beside him, like it's a personal offense that Jeno is capable of thought. Jeno whips his head just to recognize Donghyuck, eyes hooded and clearly tipsier than him. He taps the tip of Jeno's nose and orders, “Stop thinking.”

Jeno wishes he could. But since the first moment he met Renjun, every cell of his brain has been infected with him. Just Renjun. He’s an injection of happiness that Jeno has become addicted to, and trying to sweep him from his mind is ridiculous. It won’t happen.

“You should follow my example and think for once in your life,” Jeno retorts, playing along. Donghyuck perceives that he's making an effort to pretend, and he moves closer to console him. Jeno is too sensitive for support, so Donghyuck's gesture breaks him down, and breaks down his determination as well. “For how long have you known?”

It's not a thoughtful question, but Jeno needs to know if he has been the only fool living a lie. It will only have a bigger effect on his insecurity, and it requires a sort of bravery that perhaps he lacks; still, living in obliviousness has proved to lead to disasters, and Jeno isn’t going to make the same mistake twice.

“I only knew a few days ago,” Donghyuck confesses, and Jeno breathes in relief at last. Donghyuck smiles at him, for his reaction is too transparent, and squeezes his thigh. “Jaemin refused to tell me and well, I just assumed that he was a celebrity or some of the sort. I guess I wasn’t completely wrong.”

God, that would have been so much more positive. Jeno could manage dating an actor, a singer, because the spotlight would remain on them. He's sure that there would be a chance that his face had gotten blurred in the pictures, even. Being involved with royalty is different, and Renjun is at the age when the public is expecting him to start seeing people – to settle down too. For Jeno, who is just a simple university student that fell in love with a Fine Arts major, the shoe doesn't fit. He's not made to deal with public attention and judgment, and now both Renjun and he are under the spotlight.

“Donghyuck,” Jeno mutters, and though he's calling Donghyuck, he's talking more to himself. “I’m sleeping with a prince.”

Donghyuck grants him a confused glance, before understanding that Jeno is just trying to chew on the information. He leans his head on Jeno's shoulder, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Do you think you can get beheaded for tarnishing a prince?” he asks, only half joking. And when Jeno scoffs in incredulity, Donghyuck's voice turns truly devilish, “Create a revolution, let's destroy the monarchy from inside.”

“You’re so stupid,” Jeno appreciates, slanting his head to plant a kiss on the crown of Donghyuck's hair. Donghyuck thinks destroying the monarchy is the path to Jeno having a free Renjun, and he might not be wrong, but Jeno wouldn't dare to raise his voice against anything that involves Renjun. “It’s so hard not to love you.”

The way Donghyuck laughs is an announcement that he will tease Jeno about this for the rest of his life. Then silence settles, only the music and people's voices hammering in Jeno's ear, and Donghyuck loses his will to joke around.

“Listen, I know you,” he assures Jeno, glancing up at him with a glint of compassion. “You’re feeling this bad because he isn’t here right now, but he had to leave for- whatever he has to do to fix this mess? Do you think he wouldn't prefer to be at this birthday party with you? I don’t know if he's-”

Hesitant, Donghyuck bites the inside of his cheek, his rambling coming to a halt.

“Allowed to date men?” Jeno finishes for him. He hasn't mentioned it out loud until now, but it's a topic he’ll have to face sooner or later; the pain brimming in his chest isn't surprising. “I don't know either, and that's what terrifies me.”

If Renjun has to choose between his family and Jeno, Jeno doesn't have any hope. He wouldn't let Renjun give up his whole life just because of him, anyway. Over his own wishes and feelings, Jeno cares about Renjun first and foremost, and he isn't going to haul him into a life he doesn't want to live. Besides, he doubts Renjun has a say in this; not just because Jeno is a man, but because he's a normal guy from a humble family that doesn't have the manners or the money to be accepted by his family.

“You're really fucked, Jeno,” Donghyuck remarks with a honest laugh. Jeno isn't offended. He is, in all the senses of the word, really fucked. “He's hidden his true identity and the only thing you're truly worried about is if he'll stay with you.”

Jeno isn't ashamed of it. He is incapable of deciding where the limit of an unhealthy decision is; he just knows that he wants to be with Renjun and that he's going to forgive Renjun even if he doesn't deserve it. Like Jeno himself, Renjun was just trying to be happy with him. Those moments aren't something to take for granted, so Jeno doesn't.

Even though Jeno doesn't remember coming back home, he wakes up in his own bed, neatly tucked in and changed into his pajamas.

His first sensation is that his body feels uncharacteristically heavy, all the stress and nervousness from yesterday taking a toll on him. The drinks didn't help, that's for sure, but thankfully Jeno's head is clear and there are no signs of a hangover.

He rolls on his bed, palms the bedside table to look for his phone, and the bright light of the screen informs him that it's past midday. The second thing he notices is the crazy amount of messages waiting for him, and even if Jeno doesn't understand why at first, he blinks a few times and realizes that it's not his close friends who are bombing him with texts.

There are some classmates, acquaintances and – Jeno notes in horror – an alarming amount of unknown numbers. It has been just one day since the pictures were published and spread, and it's evident that some people have already filtered his number to the press.

Jeno doesn't even have strength to curse them. He should have anticipated this problem, but he was too soaked in his concern over Renjun. His friends would never betray him, but so many people have his phone number, especially students that he shared group projects with, and Jeno can imagine that money in exchange for prince Renjun's boyfriend phone number is an interesting offer.

With a grunt, Jeno tosses his phone aside and gets out of bed. It makes sense that Renjun had two phones, one for normal university duties and then a personal phone so that people wouldn't bother them. It feels like a nightmare that Jeno can comprehend such an odd problem, but judging how his phone has turned into a weapon within a day, he'll have to get a new number at least.

He takes his time in the bathroom, and when he checks his phone again, he has five new calls from Renjun. The mere thought of hearing Renjun’s voice leaves him breathless, and though Jeno isn't conscious of his own state, his hands tremble when he picks up the phone to call Renjun back.

Renjun is clearly waiting for him, because Jeno doesn't even have time to prepare before Renjun's voice hits him.

“Jeno?” he says. Jeno can't tell if he's whispering or it's just that he's so nervous that his hearing is blocked, but Renjun sounds like he’s far away from the phone. “I'm outside your door.”

Jeno's actions aren't controlled by his head anymore. He hangs up without considering that it might scare Renjun, that it might look like a cold rejection, but his impatience obscures any thought. He speeds to the main door, unaware of if he looks presentable or not, or if he's going to scare his flatmates for running through the place.

It's all meaningless, because if Renjun is there, then Jeno is disposed to burn bridges and step on needles just to see him, to talk to him, to touch him. It's a bit crazy, but Jeno reckons that he's already bathed in this craziness, and the erratic beating of his heart doesn't freeze until he tugs the door open with a gasp.

Jeno barely recognizes Renjun.

He looks so, so small. So fragile. His dark circles are so prominent that Jeno almost whines out loud, wishing he could take Renjun's exhaustion and bear that load himself. The shock petrifies him, since it feels like an eternity has passed since he last saw Renjun. Renjun doesn't have to speak; the apology is painted all over his semblance. Fear, regret and impotence are the last brushes that complete that painting.

Jeno should be angry. Damn, he is angry, but other emotions surpass it with so much power that he can't feel it at all. A simple glance at Renjun destroys him, because that's evidence that he's not the only one suffering – that Renjun is undoubtedly suffering more than him, in fact.

“Jun,” Jeno mutters, unsure, spreading his arms with the uncertainty if he's doing the right thing for Renjun or not.

But Renjun doesn't think about it twice: he steps forward, stumbles into his arms with a dry sound, his hands fisting the back of Jeno's t-shirt in complete desperation. Jeno holds him closer, wonders how it's possible that Renjun feels tinier in his embrace today, and a strange urge of laughing strikes him.

All this is ridiculous. It's ridiculous that Renjun is a prince. It's ridiculous that Renjun loves him, regardless of his social and political status. It's ridiculous that last night Jeno didn't see himself capable of handling this situation, that he thought this would be the last straw to break them apart.

Donghyuck was right. The only reason Jeno was so pessimistic was that he didn't have Renjun to remind him why he had done so many stupid things for him in the first place. Now that Renjun is tightly pressed against him, Jeno doesn't have any doubt that he would rebel against any monarchy for him. It's just luck that Jeno was born in this century, or that sacrifice would be a lot more dangerous.

“I'm sorry,” Renjun mumbles against his shoulder, all of him - his voice, his body, even his eyelashes brushing over Jeno's clothes – trembling. “I'm so sorry, Jeno.”

“I know,” Jeno whispers. He caresses Renjun's back, closing his eyes, and pleads, “Don't say it again.”

The path to his bedroom becomes a dark memory in Jeno's head. He doesn't know when they detach from the hug, he just knows that they don't kiss, that they don't need to, and a few minutes later Renjun is on the edge of his bed, waiting for him to speak with begging eyes.

Jeno needs to breathe and calm down first, because he can't believe that the guy on his bed is a damn prince. This isn’t how he imagined princes to be like. Renjun should have security with him at all times, or so Jeno thinks. He doesn't have any idea how Renjun's world works, and he would have never recognized him – his knowledge about royalty is nonexistent. He could have spent his whole life with a prince between his legs and he wouldn't have batted an eyelash.

“I’m sorry you had to know this way,” Renjun begins, once he assumes that Jeno is too nervous to lead the talk. His gaze flutters from Jeno's lap to his face, again and again, like he can't stand Jeno's reactions. “I wanted to tell you myself first.”

Jeno believes him, but his mouth moves on its own, “You had many opportunities to do it.”

So many silences, so many moments they were alone in the privacy of their homes, so many ways Renjun could have just blurted it out and started a whole fire in Jeno's life.

Guilty, Renjun directs his focus to the floor, his chin wobbling as he responds, “It never seemed like the right moment.”

That's because there wasn't a right moment to destroy the perfect bubble they were enclosed in. Jeno would have never risked Renjun's well-being either just not to carry the burden of that secret. However, it's a double-edged sword. There was no way to win.

Jeno scoots closer, rests his hand on Renjun's thigh to catch his attention; he doesn't like making Renjun so insecure, and he isn't used to seeing him avoid eye contact. Renjun is strong, hard-headed and cheeky, and that's who Jeno fell in love with.

“Why?” Jeno says, bathing in the confused spark of Renjun's gaze. “I mean, you're a prince, why are you here studying Fine Arts all alone?”

Renjun isn't conscious of how he responds to Jeno's touch. His hand entangles with Jeno's over his leg, but his gaze stays latched on Jeno's face, like he's desperate to make Jeno believe in him.

“I'm not alone, actually,” he admits. Pressing his lips into a line, he considers his next words. “Yukhei and Guanheng are royals too, it's just that they're not crown princes. They're regular princes.”

Jeno's first impulse is asking if Renjun is making fun of him. It's not logical, because Renjun is terrified, and Jeno is on the edge of crumbling down after all the tension he has gone through. Renjun wouldn't joke about this when their relationship is at play. If he would, then Jeno doesn't know him at all.

“Okay, I don't have the-” Jeno swallows, void of words to express himself, “mental capacity to understand that right now. Let's focus on you for now.”

“Jeno,” Renjun whispers, a cross between fondness and regret. He lifts his hand to cup Jeno's jaw, and Jeno tries not to be too obvious when he presses against his palm, heavily breathing. “There are dozens of reasons I'm here. I’ve always had many doubts about the royal life.” Renjun tears his gaze away for a second, as if he can't reason if he's looking into Jeno's eyes, while he decides how to continue. “It's all... really overwhelming, you know? Even if I've been taught to be a prince all my life, and I respect my parents and their heritage, I just needed to live like a normal boy for a while.”

And Renjun took the whole package of a normal boy, apparently. He signed up for university, stressed himself over exams even if there was no need to; he fucked, fell in love, drank until he passed out. The list goes on and on, and Jeno just finds more reasons why Renjun would have been judged as a prince.

Renjun trusted him on a personal level, giving him all the power to destroy him one day if he wanted to. Compared to him, Jeno doesn't have much to lose with this relationship. Renjun could lose it all, could be driven mad if others found out about the sort of life he's living.

“Do your parents know-?” Jeno begins, unsure.

“That I like boys? Yes,” Renjun cuts him off, a bittersweet smile expanding on his lips. He softens at Jeno's surprise, but Jeno can't conceal his emotions. He doesn't know why he pictured Renjun's parents like two monsters that would repudiate their son. Maybe they do, maybe they don't. Maybe they are the last of his worries, because it's the press and the citizens who might try to pulverize Renjun. “They didn’t know I was dating someone, though.”

Renjun has been keeping two secrets, and Jeno is one of them.

“Sorry, I’m in shock,” Jeno apologizes. His heart is beating so hard that exhaustion has started to threaten him, and he isn't sure he'll be able to bear the pressure for so long. “I have so many questions, and I don’t know how to begin.”

Renjun strokes his cheek, tilting his head. “It’s fine. I can imagine what kind of questions you have.”

That makes Jeno feel hopeful. “Do you?”

Renjun nods. Jeno opens his mouth to ask, but then Renjun’s touch lowers to his collarbones and he realizes that Renjun doesn’t need him to help through this process. He must have been aware that this moment would come sooner or later, for he couldn’t keep up this façade for the rest of his life.

It’s just a pity that it was out of Renjun’s hands to decide. Both of them were forced into this situation by external forces.

Jeno is too used to Renjun’s presence to deem that they’re too close to each other to speak. But it feels better this way, with Renjun’s breathing hovering over his lips, no space for more secrets or lies, a sort of blackmail that Jeno revels in.

Just then, Renjun starts answering all the questions that Jeno doesn’t dare to ask out loud.

“No, I’m not going to break up with you, as long as you want me to stay,” he says, very careful. Jeno watches him close his eyes, as though he fears Jeno will reject him on the spot. Instead, Jeno sneaks a hand behind his back so that Renjun feels embraced and safe. “No, I don’t know what will happen to me if I don’t.”

Even though Renjun ran to his family to do damage control, the future is uncertain. That explains why Renjun is so nervous, because he might have to act against what is right just to preserve Jeno in his life.

“I love that you love me because of who I am,” Renjun confesses. The smile he draws reflects on Jeno’s face too, and he bumps the tip of Renjun’s nose, encouraging him. “The first time you talked to me I thought you were another stupid boy trying to get a picture with the prince. But god, when I realized that you were flirting with me, that you had no idea what you were doing-” Renjun swallows, a slight sense of amusement in his words. Jeno gets it. Now that he knows that Renjun is a prince, he’s ashamed of how he behaved that night. “I just wanted to try, to act like a normal boy for one night.”

“It was much more than one night.”

Renjun’s breath hitches. “And I’m happy it was.”

“Stay with me, then.” Jeno doesn’t prepare his words. They just leave his mouth, raw and sincere, even if he’s not ready to face the implications of his decision. Renjun is baring himself, and following suit is far from a challenge; it’s natural, an inner reflex. “Do they want to take pictures of me and investigate me? Fine. I’m such an uninteresting person, the worst thing I did in my life was failing a math test in high school.”

That revelation breaks Renjun’s nervousness in the best possible way. He lets out a relieved laugh, only subduing when Jeno strokes his neck and frames his face with his hands.

“You’re an idiot,” Renjun whispers, amazed.

“That’s clear,” Jeno agrees. It’s true that Jeno can’t become a weapon against Renjun, and less now that he knows his behavior might affect Renjun’s image. It’s an advantage that those traits are already engrained in Jeno’s personality. “Only an idiot would have dated you knowing you were keeping a big secret.”

Correcting himself, Renjun repeats, “I’m so lucky that you’re an idiot.”

There’s no reason for Jeno to repress his impulses. He brushes against Renjun’s soft lips and it’s like the first time all over again, except this time he knows the consequences of his actions.

And, as strange as it feels, Jeno isn’t afraid. It must be the magical feel of Renjun’s hands clutching him, the warmth of Renjun’s mouth, or just the simple fact that Jeno is irrevocably in love with a normal boy that just happens to be a prince.

No one warned Jeno that dating a prince meant that, sooner or later, he would have to meet the King and the Queen.

In any other relationship, meeting his boyfriend’s parents wouldn’t be a priority. Maybe after a couple of years, or just one year in case the relationship was firm and serious. And that’s what Jeno intended to do, really, even if Renjun isn’t just any boy and his parents aren’t just any parents.

But of course, when Renjun tells him that his parents want to meet him, Jeno can’t decline the offer. It’s a poisoned chalice. Jeno knows nothing about protocols, and though Renjun assures him that he doesn’t need to, he’s aware that this is some sort of introduction to what’s ahead for them. It’s Jeno’s choice to join Renjun in his formal duties or not, and it’s obviously too soon, but maybe one day he will have to, either because he will want to or because Renjun will need him.

Acceptance is vital, and the biggest problem is that Jeno doesn’t think he’s deserving of it.

“You look gorgeous,” Renjun praises him, smirking as soon as he catches sight of Jeno in his suit.

Jeno was embarrassed to show him the suit, since he’s not used to wearing these sort of clothes. It was kind of stupid, given that Renjun had bought the suit for him anyway. In fact, he had meticulously chosen the most classic, regular cut so that Jeno didn’t feel weird.

It’s still weird as Jeno looks at his reflection: a normal boy in a suit that costs more than his yearly rent in a tiny single bedroom. Behind him, Jeno can see Jaemin lying on his bed, momentarily looking away from his phone to evaluate his friend.

Jeno glances from Jaemin to Renjun a few times, and then announces, “I look like shit.”

Renjun shakes his head, as though he knew that would be his reaction. Jeno isn’t certain if this is his mind playing tricks on him or if he really looks like a kid in his grandfather’s clothes.

“You look like a loser, actually,” Jaemin agrees, merciless. “The royal touch doesn’t fit you.”

It’s just a joke, but Jeno deflates at the confirmation that he has been fearing. Renjun reacts faster than him, grasping one of the cushions of the bed and hurling it at Jaemin’s face with so much force that his phone flies out of his hands and Jaemin yelps in surprise.

With a fit of laughter, Jeno celebrates, “Screw off, Jaemin.”

“This is unfair,” Jaemin complains, hugging the cushion against his chest and checking if his phone is still alive. “I can’t just throw things at a prince’s face in vengeance. I might end up in jail.”

That’s satisfactory to hear, however. Jaemin is learning to treat Renjun like his friend, without boundaries and unnecessary politeness, since he has known from the beginning that Renjun was a prince. For Mark, Donghyuck and Jeno, the process was in reverse: they met Renjun like an equal, and only afterwards they realized that it wasn’t the case.

“You can try, though,” Renjun defies Jaemin, eyebrows raised in complete seriousness. He presses against Jeno’s side, nuzzling his neck, and finishes his threat with a, “I’d love to put your ass in jail.”

Jaemin glares at them, torn between fighting Renjun or just letting him live in peace.

Jeno adores this, because he just has to sneak an arm around Renjun’s waist to dissuade both of them from arguing further. Renjun goes from annoyance to compliance within a second, bathing in the mischievous glance Jeno is giving him.

“Don’t be mean, he’ll believe you,” Jeno tells him, pointing at Jaemin with his head.

Renjun claims, “Oh, he should.”

Jaemin gets up from the bed, pretending that he can’t stand this treatment, and hits Jeno’s butt with the cushion. Renjun makes a gesture behind Jeno’s back that he can’t see, but whatever it is, it must not be very kind considering that Jaemin scoffs.

“I’m going to get some water,” he announces, spinning on his heels without acknowledging Jeno’s questioning look. “It’s too hot in here.”

That’s his peculiar way of accusing them of turning him into a third-wheel, but Jaemin isn’t better than them when he’s with Mark. In any case, it’s Donghyuck who has to deal with a bothersome amount of third-wheeling, so Jeno can’t pity Jaemin for getting his own medicine from time to time.

However, as soon as Jaemin disappears, the atmosphere around them changes. There isn’t any tension between them, other than Jeno being paranoid over the meeting, but Renjun’s playfulness dissipates. He’s sweet instead, his eyes softening as he looks at Jeno again, as though he can read all of his thoughts and his troubles.

Jeno’s paranoia goes beyond looking like a clown in a suit, and he’s not familiar with this level of pressure. The most difficult task Jeno has to do in his life is pass his exams and not punch one of his classmates when they have group projects. Convincing royalty that he’s good enough to date their prince son is insane, he can’t describe it with any other word.

“You’re nervous for no reason,” Renjun assures him, drawing circles on his back. He tilts his head to peck Jeno’s cheek, and Jeno closes his eyes for a moment, trying to regain his composure. He’s so nervous that he’s barely conscious of his own nervousness, a dark tunnel that doesn’t let him explore the outside world. “It’s just my parents and my sister, okay? No press, no other royals. It’s informal.”

Informal. Jeno would believe him if it wasn’t because Renjun had to leave the palace and come to study in university to start having an informal life. And not even after escaping his past routine is he allowed to ignore his duties as a prince.

“That’s so easy for you to say,” Jeno sighs. He still soaks in Renjun’s affection, even if it intensifies that he’s behaving like an immature kid. “Everyone you’ve met in your life was under you.”

To Jeno’s surprise, Renjun doesn’t contradict him, falling into a long silence instead. When Jeno sends him an expectant look, he discovers that Renjun’s face has been invaded by a huge grin that doesn’t announce good news.

With a fake tone of sweetness, Renjun points out, “I think I’m under you pretty often, fool.”

Jeno supposes that it’s a good sign that he blushes right away. That after so many months, the mere thought of being intimate with Renjun has this instantaneous effect on him; the electric shock that runs through him, the warmth in the pit of his stomach and that bubble of happiness that surrounds him.

 “I meant in social status!” Jeno protests, watching Renjun laugh at him.

“Social status,” Renjun repeats to mock him.

Jeno looks at Renjun on the mirror, drowning in the image of the two of them together. It’s not because Jeno is biased, but they’re kind of cute together – all the cuteness is carried by Renjun, though, Jeno won’t change his mind. Renjun has left the jacket of his suit in the living room, but he’s just as dressed up as Jeno, with the difference that he wears his clothes like they belong to him.

“Jaemin is right,” Jeno chirps up, smiling at Renjun’s reflection. “You’re terrible.”

Renjun isn’t offended. He’s delighted, conscious that Jeno means the exact opposite. He loosely wraps his arms around Jeno’s neck, pulling at him so that they face each other, and imitates the captivated smile that blossoms on Jeno’s lips.

“I love you, and that’s all that matters,” Renjun whispers, and despite how many times Jeno has heard that before, he has the sensation that his heart stops beating altogether. “Okay?”

“Okay,” he responds in a shaky breath. “I just don’t know-”

Jeno doesn’t have to explain it to him. They talked about it just last week, and it’s a recurring topic when one of them is feeling down, but for evident reasons it worries Jeno more. Renjun has had plenty of time to assume how his future could turn out like.

“I have a sister, Jeno,” Renjun cuts him off, stopping him from entering a maze with no exit. Jeno understands the message and nods, but it’s Renjun’s gaze that keeps him sane and safe; the sincerity, that confidence in Jeno – one that Jeno doesn’t have for himself – that shines bright in Renjun’s features. “If I’m not enough for a throne, then it might be time to be modern and have a queen instead of a king.”

Those words carry so much bravery that Jeno believes he has misheard Renjun. They have explored many possibilities, but ceding the crown to Renjun’s sister hasn’t come up in their conversations yet. It wouldn’t liberate Renjun from his responsibilities; on the contrary, it would create chaos for a long while around the royal family, but in the long run Renjun would be completely free to date, fuck or marry whoever he wants.

“I-” Jeno stutters, a knot in his throat. His voice pathetically breaks while adding, “You’re not serious.”

Renjun licks his lips, amused. “I’m very serious,” he assures Jeno, slightly swaying from side to side. Not even Jeno’s hold can keep him still, but Renjun hypnotizes him with his movements, with his dark red lips, with his pretty eyes.“And very sure. About you, about us.”

Jeno is, too. He suspects that it’s a security that has been there since the first time his lips tasted Renjun, even if he couldn’t know that their lives were going to entangle this way. That security that kept pulling him back to Renjun, that tricked Jeno into falling for him so fast and so deep.

“What makes you be so sure?” Jeno asks, regardless of how intensely he shares those same feelings.

Renjun glances up at the ceiling and hums, pretending to think. Jeno allows him to display this small playful show for him, takes that time to appreciate every single inch of Renjun’s face. He seems to be so happy at the prospect of introducing Jeno to his family, and that’s the only thing that can calm Jeno down. He would do anything just so that smile on Renjun’s face remains alive.

Renjun’s eyes flicker down to set on Jeno’s gaze, a spark of high voltage that travels right to Jeno’s heart.

“There’s a reason,” Renjun decides. His fingers dance on Jeno’s nape, and Jeno’s skin dances with them, always trailing behind, always wanting more. “You would make a wonderful prince.”

It’s impossible for Jeno to repress his smile. Butterflies grow in his stomach, multiplying as Renjun smiles at him, and he realizes that if Renjun is lying to him – if Jeno wouldn’t make a wonderful prince – then that can be their little secret too.