Archive of Our Own

Renjun woke up with Donghyuck’s hair in his mouth. He groaned, pushing out automatically until the warm body beside him rolled over and landed on the floor with a heavy thud.

There was silence, and only then did Renjun register that he could have sent his best friend hurtling to his death. He shot up, eyes open, and peered over the side of the bed.

Donghyuck was face down.

“Shit. Are you okay? Did you survive?” Renjun asked.

“Last night, or that push?” Donghyuck asked the carpet. “I was on the verge of death after that last bottle of wine, but I think you just finished me off. Everything hurts and it feels like something is decaying in my mouth.”

“That’ll be your tongue.”

“Rest in peace. He served me well.”

“He served many people well.”

Donghyuck giggled, still drunk, still on the carpet. “Yeah he did.”

Renjun lay back down, burrowing into the sheets as much as possible with his jeans tangled around his shins. He must have fallen asleep halfway through taking them off.

The night was starting to come back in fragmented pieces of memory, some of which made him smile, some of which made him want to join Donghyuck on the carpet. Memories of a hand on his arm, lips against his neck, the sound of Kunhang’s laugher drowning out whatever was being whispered into his skin.

He groaned again, more pathetic this time. “Did I fuck someone last night?”

“No, but he really tried to persuade you. I think you stole his drink and we dipped.”

“Ah.” That was better than he’d hoped for. The memory of those sticky lips… Renjun shuddered. “I need a shower.”

“I need to brush my teeth.”

Renjun hummed. “Wanna get clean and go for breakfast somewhere?”

“Sure. Am I okay to borrow some clothes?”

“Yeah. If you want pants that actually fit your legs, I think Yangyang left some sweats the last time he stayed over, you can have those.”

“Maybe I want my ankles exposed. I can flash them like a whorish Victorian lady and make all the boys swoon.”

“You’re hungover and look like ass. If they faint it’s not going to be from attraction.”

Donghyuck made some kind of swing as if to hit Renjun, but he just smacked his wrist against the metal bedframe and whimpered. “Fuck you. I’m fragile right now.”

“Me too,” Renjun admitted. His mouth felt like it was full of sand, and he still hadn’t managed to wriggle his way out of his tangled jeans. It was hard work being pathetic messes, but he and Donghyuck were proving themselves to be adept at it.

“Do you think we’ll ever learn?” Donghyuck asked while he pulled himself up from the floor. There was resignation in his voice, like he already knew the answer.

“I doubt it,” Renjun said. He heaved himself up over the side of the bed and wondered where he’d be if Donghyuck hadn’t walked him home. Maybe in a bush somewhere. Maybe at Mark’s. Maybe in a stranger’s bed. He forced back another shudder and finally untangled himself from his jeans, staggering his way to the bathroom with the assumption that Donghyuck would follow at his own pace.

The burning hot water of the shower went a long way to making him feel human again, but it didn’t alleviate the pain or the shame of the previous evening. He felt like a warm corpse instead of a cold one, but a corpse, nonetheless.

At least he felt clean.

Donghyuck passed Renjun his toothbrush as he climbed out of the shower. “Here. I promise I didn’t dip it in the toilet this time.”

Renjun just grunted his thanks and gestured towards the shower. “Get in there while we still have hot water. I’m not going for lunch if you smell like garbage can.”

Donghyuck tugged on a lock of Renjun’s hair in retribution, but then he paused. “I love your hair like this. Did I mention that?”

Renjun felt his cheeks warm, but he kept his eyes on his hands as he tried his best to get toothpaste out of the almost empty tube. “Thank you.”

“I mean it,” Donghyuck said. “Genuinely. You look really good.”

The black and white looked good styled, but Renjun doubted the validity of Donghyuck’s feelings when it was like this: wet and tangled, plastered to his face as he continued to struggle with the toothpaste.

“Thank you,” Renjun said again, softer. “Now shower.”

It was ten minutes later that Renjun, fully clothed and aware of his surroundings for the first time that morning, realised his desk chair was in three pieces.

“Hyuck?” he called. “What happened to my chair?”

“Don’t you remember?” Donghyuck called back, still in the bathroom. “You tried to push me over when we got in last night and I tripped on the chair. We both fell, but luckily I stayed whole.”

“I’d rather have found you in three chunks,” Renjun murmured, staring at his chair. It must have caught on the side of the bed and then bent and snapped under Donghyuck’s weight. It was a cheap chair anyway, but one he needed. Trying to do assignments on his bed just led to seven hour naps that made him hate himself.

“Want me to buy you a new one?”

He glanced at Donghyuck, now stood in the doorway of the bathroom, a towel around his waist. “With what money?”

Donghyuck shrugged. “I’ll sell Mark’s laptop or something.”

“It’s okay,” Renjun said, picking up the pieces to put to the side of the room. “If I pushed you then it’s my fault the chair is broken.”

“I probably did something to deserve being pushed, though.”

“You always do,” Renjun said, fonder than he’d ever admit. “Help me wash these sheets and buy me lunch. We’ll call it even then.”

-

Finding a replacement chair was easy enough, but following the instructions to built it proved more difficult.

“It came with an allen-key,” Renjun said. “There is no screw here that would fit an allen-key. Why did it come with an allen-key?”

Mark made a muffled kind of noise on the other end of the phone line. “I don’t know. Just in case?”

“Just in case what? I want the experience of screwing an extra bolt they didn’t provide? Why provide the screwdriver and not the screw?”

“Maybe they assumed you’d know what it was for without saying in the instructions.”

“Mark.”

“Look, I know you’re good at DIY, but the person that designed the chair doesn’t know that!”

It was almost as bad as the dude at the store. What was it about Renjun’s appearance that made him look fucking incompetent?

“We can have someone come and build it for you. It might be worth the extra cost.”

Fuck him. Renjun has built bigger things than a desk chair. He built his desk, he built his bed, he built his next-door neighbour’s dining table. He could build the desk chair.

-

He could not build the desk chair.

It took a couple of hours to admit it to himself, but after the allen-key turned up out of nowhere and proved itself entirely useless, everything else started to go wrong. There weren’t enough of the ¾” size screws. The instructions asked for screwdrivers with a cross slot head, but in reality Renjun had to dig out his dad’s old tool kit, trying each type until he finally realised that the screws matched the pozidriv heads, which had been mentioned nowhere in the instructions at all.

Nothing went well, and everything was horrible.

It took a green tea break and the search for inner peace before he gathered the strength to Google more instructions. It hurt his pride, but the balm of seeing so many people online struggling with the same chair made him feel better. He clicked on the first link attached, apparently the most recent, and it took him to a YouTube video.

The man in the video was building a chair, but it wasn’t the right chair.

He also wasn’t building it successfully.

He was wearing a tuxedo though.

Nothing made sense.

“I’m not getting my feet out!” he said, loud and whiny. “You know I keep my pleather shoes on when we do our Fancy Friday streams!”

Renjun blinked. He looked at the channel name, which was NANAGAMING. He looked at the profile image, which was the same man, but with black hair. The man currently in the tuxedo failing to build a chair had pink hair.

He looked like a bubblegum ball on top of a groomsman cutout.

He was using the wrong screwdriver.

Renjun clicked off the video and went back to his Google search, trying the next video on the list. This one was an elderly woman with the right chair and a kind expression. She pointed out the mistakes in the instructions, and with her sweet voice guiding him, Renjun built his new desk chair.

Then he Googled NANAGAMING. He needed the man to know he was using the wrong screwdriver.

Under the search for NANAGAMING he found a seemingly endless links for social medias, the top being Twitch, which he only knew from vague conversations with Donghyuck about gaming.

It turned out that NANAGAMING was live.

He was building something else, but he was still doing it wrong.

He wasn’t in a tuxedo for this video, just some dark jeans and a baggy shirt that hung from his wide shoulders. Renjun felt the way his mouth tensed as he watched the man screw two pieces of wood together at a terrible angle.

Now, with the comments on screen, he could see the demands for feet. He wished he couldn’t, but that was that. Some things were sadly out of his control.

“It’s meant to be a desk,” (presumably) Nana said. “But I don’t think this will stand up on its own. Is it cheating if I glue it to the floor?” He lifted up a bottle of PVA to show the audience, and Renjun wanted to eat his screwdrivers.

PVA? It worked in slime, but it wouldn’t fucking withstand the pressure of a desk and whatever would be placed on top of it. Especially not if it was glued to a fucking carpet. Who the hell would glue a desk to the floor?

The last thing Renjun wanted to do was register a Twitch account, but if he sat and watched this guy do everything wrong for any longer, it might do irreparable damage to his brain. No matter how cute the guy was, Renjun wasn’t losing precious braincells for anyone other than Donghyuck.

It took longer than it should have for him to create an account, but it was because of his thoughts on the correct way to build that desk and not because he was bad with technology. Because he wasn’t bad with technology.

              PLEASE buy an L-Square Angle Ruler. Your desk will stand if your joints are correct.

Nana squinted at the screen, reading the comments as they passed. “You guys have some really bad opinions. Who the hell thinks that Odyssey is a better Mario game than Galaxy? Galaxy is the best Mario game.” He looked back down at his pile of screws, glue, and wood. “Anyone here that’s not a creep want to come over and build my desk for me? I thought the chair was bad enough, but maybe I was born to be a sexy housewife.”

Nana hadn’t seen his other comment, but this was Renjun’s chance.

              YOU WERE USING THE WRONG SCREWDRIVER

              GET AN L-SQUARE FOR YOUR JOINTS!

“Huh? What the fuck is an L-Square? For my joints? Are you guys trying to sell me supplements again?”

Maybe it was time to eat the screwdriver. It would have been less painful than this.

              FOR YOUR DESK’S JOINTS FUCKING HELL

Nana frowned. “My desk doesn’t have knees.”

Renjun logged out and closed his laptop.

-

It was easy to find Donghyuck in a crowd, because he was usually at the centre of it. He had a special way of smiling that made everyone fall in love, and while Renjun didn’t see the allure (there was only so much charm that could withstand such a long friendship) he certainly appreciated the ability to find his best friend in any crowded place.

This time Donghyuck was sat at the bar. There were drinks all around him, and Renjun knew just from the smug look on his face that he hadn’t paid for a single one.

Renjun forced his way into the seat beside Donghyuck and took the drink closest to the tired looking barman. “What’s this?”

“Pornstar martini. You’d like the Cloister more.” Donghyuck passed over another drink, this one a cloudy yellow colour with a decorative slice of peel. Whatever it was, it probably cost more than it was worth.

Renjun took a sip and found it surprisingly pleasant. “Wow. Is there some grapefruit in this?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Donghyuck sipped from his own glass. “Mine is a Tuxedo.”

Renjun’s mouth thinned at the reminder. “I saw a stupid man today.”

Donghyuck laughed. “Oh, I love that. Was he sexy?”

“If I let myself think about it, then yes.”

“Sexy and stupid make the best combination in men. Are you going to fuck him?”

“No. It wasn’t – we didn’t meet. I was looking for instructions for building my new chair.”

“Since when do you need instructions to build something? You built my whole-ass closet on your own and got mad when I tried to help.”

“You would have gotten in the way,” Renjun said, flushing. “Look, the booklet that came with the chair was wrong and I needed to know where to use the allen-key.”

Donghyuck lifted his drink. “Cheers! To whatever you just said to me.”

“Fuck you.”

“We both know I’m not your type.”

Donghyuck seemed to be everyone else’s type though. What was meant to be a couple of drinks once classes had finished quickly turned into retreating to a corner table so that they could actually talk to each other without the constant interruption of a man trying to worm his way in between their seats. Renjun would have probably been bitter about it if it had been anyone other than Donghyuck, but it had always been like that, and he’d gotten used to it years ago. Donghyuck had a warm charisma around him that wrapped you up and made you feel loved, and paired with his aching beauty he always attracted a number of hopeful lonely men that thought they had a chance.

“I’m actually in a relationship,” Donghyuck said for the third time that evening, gesturing towards Renjun. “Sorry.” As soon as the guy left, Donghyuck sighed and slid down his seat. “I hate this. Do I need to wear a badge or something? Design a shirt?”

“I think you need to punch one of them,” Renjun said. “That might get the message across.”

“It might get me in trouble with campus security, too.”

“You win some you lose some. That’s the way it is.”

Donghyuck nodded wisely and sipped his drink. After the myriad of cocktails, they’d both moved onto sodas, which were much better for their health and general wellbeing. They tasted better too, if Renjun were being honest with himself.

“Do you think I should say yes?”

Renjun frowned, confused. “Say yes to what?”

“One of them,” Donghyuck replied, gesturing widely to the rest of the bar. “I don’t like being on my own, you know?” He looked as close to sad as Donghyuck could get when he knew that people could see him.

Renjun moved his hand to place it atop of Donghyuck’s, squeezing lightly. The size difference was laughable, but Renjun didn’t laugh when Donghyuck turned his hand over and linked their fingers together. “You’re not alone,” Renjun said, staring at their hands. “As long as I’m alive, you never will be.”

Donghyuck smiled, faint and a little lost. “I wish I could be like you. You never – you don’t need anyone. I want to be like that too.”

I need you.

“If you thought any of the men that approached you had the ability to make you happy, then you wouldn’t reject them,” Renjun said. “If someone worthwhile comes along, you’ll know it. You’re smarter than you pretend to be, and you know what’s good for you and what isn’t. Don’t settle for less than you deserve just because you’re worried about being stuck with your own company.”

Donghyuck sighed. He slid sideways, his head landing on Renjun’s shoulder with a soft thud that smelled of citrus shampoo. “I love my pint-sized Plato.”

“I love you too,” Renjun said, staring down at the table. The hand that wasn’t linked with Donghyuck’s felt cold. He clenched it into a fist and shoved it in his jacket pocket, nails digging into his palm.

-

Back at his apartment, the cold had spread. From one hand up his arm, it had settled somewhere in his chest.

The lights were off, the apartment silent. Renjun toed his boots off and wandered through to the bedroom, sitting down heavily on his newly built chair. He looked out of the window, at the night sky, the buildings that obscured it, the clouds that hid the stars and the moon from view.

-

A Phillips screwdriver wouldn’t work for a screw with a hex socket.

He wasn’t proud of logging back into Twitch, but after almost a week of wondering if that desk had ever been glued to the floor, Renjun had caved. He’d aced his presentation on the subversion of Gothic Literature, and he needed to do this. He needed to purge his mind of the terrible DIY so that he could move on with his life.

But Nana hadn’t finished the desk. He wasn’t in a suit, which was nice, but the desk seemed even worse than before. He’d somehow created even more pieces.

“I know this isn’t the most fun we’ve had on streams,” Nana said to the chat, “But I can’t game properly if I don’t have a desk. No – of course I’m not asking Jisung for help, are you stupid? He’d make even more of a mess than I am!”

A Phillips screwdriver wouldn’t work for a screw with a hex socket. Nana needed Renjun’s spare allen-key.

              Your screwdriver won’t work on that kind of bolt.

Nana frowned. “Renjun? You’re the guy that shouted at me last time, aren’t you?”

              Please listen to me. You need an allen-key.

Nana groaned. “I don’t even know what that is!”

This was a bad idea. The glory of acing his presentation was fading quickly, along with his will to live.

              It’s a piece of metal in the shape of a long, bent hexagon.

Nana nodded. He lifted up a long screw. “This?”

              No.

He lifted another screw. “This?”

              You’re really making me want to throw something. No.

“I don’t think I have what that is,” Nana said. He looked almost frustrated, which would have been nice to see if Renjun hadn’t been so close to destroying his own desk.

              Google it.

Nana got out his phone and spent a moment peering down into it, eyes too close to the screen. Everything he did made Renjun want to chew fiberglass. “No, I definitely don’t have one of those. Shouldn’t the desk have come with one if everything else was included?”

              Probably. You should be able to get one pretty easily, though.

“And I definitely need it?”

              Definitely. Normal screwdrivers aren’t meant for heavy duty screws like those.

Nana smiled, half a grimace, half genuine sweetness that almost hurt to look at. “I’m not gonna get this desk finished today, am I?”

Renjun swallowed, hands hovering above the keyboard. The rest of the chat was flying by so quickly, but he didn’t look at it. They seemed nice enough, but no one had any genuine suggestions for the desk, which was probably why it still wasn’t built a week and a half since it had been started.

              Not without an allen-key. I’m sorry.

“It’s okay. Thank you for helping. At least I know what I need now.”

              They’re cheap and easy to find. You’ll be fine. The desk will be great, I’m sure.

“I appreciate you lying to make me feel better,” Nana said solemnly.

It startled a small laugh out of Renjun. He hadn’t realised that Nana was actually aware of the mess he was making.

              You’re pretty enough to go for the housewife thing if you’re still interested. Get someone else to build the desk.

Nana blinked. “Someone that knows DIY and thinks I’m pretty? Come here and ravish me.”

Renjun closed the stream before he did something stupid, but even then his blush took another ten minutes to fade.

-

Maybe he was lonelier than he realised, or just stupider. Whatever the reasoning, Renjun found himself at his desk hours after leaving the stream, googling where to contact NANAGAMING. He found a business email which would be good enough for what he needed – just somewhere or someone that could make sure Nana got access to the simplified instructions for the desk that Renjun had put together – including the correct allen-key size he’d need to buy. He’d sketched a diagram and scanned it into a document to go with the numbered steps. If Nana couldn’t build the desk with such detailed help, then maybe he really was destined for the housewife life.

Either way, Renjun had done what he could.

His hands were still cold when he went to sleep that night, but his chest felt a little warmer.

-

He woke up to an email from someone unknown. Someone with a Hotmail account, which Renjun hadn’t seen in like seven years.

              Hi

His reply was simple.

              ?

And then nothing. Nothing for a solid eight hours, during which he went to his classes, worked on another assignment on Mary Shelley, went for dinner with Mark and Yangyang, and returned to his apartment.

              Haha sorry! It’s Jaemin!

Renjun frowned.

              I don’t know who that is.

              Oh, right. NANAGAMING! I wanted to say thank you for all of your help and the instructions you sent me. I looked all over online, but I couldn’t find anything helpful. Where did you find them?

Oh, God. This was the part where Renjun had to admit he was the loser that had researched the desk. This was the part where Jaemin thanked him again and then blocked him and got Renjun’s short-lived Twitch account suspended.

He kept his reply simple. Better to rip off the bandaid quickly.

              I made them.

              ????? You MADE them?

              I looked online too, but there wasn’t much. No offence, but you wouldn’t have been able to build the desk without something detailed.

              I genuinely can’t believe you would do something so nice for a stranger. WTF I’m astounded

His cheeks were warming again, equal parts embarrassment and pleasure. At least he hadn’t been blocked yet. Could you even block someone over email? Maybe he was bad at technology.

              It’s ok. Have fun with your desk!

              I will. I should be able to finish it tomorrow. Seriously, thank you so much. Have an amazing week!

              You too.

And that was that.

-

Until it wasn’t.

              Good morning! Please text me on the number below😊

And because it was seven in the morning and Renjun was more masochistic than he thought, he did just that.

              Renjun: Hello?

              Jaemin: Hi Hi Hi~ my desk is all built! Thanks to youuuu~ hehe

              Renjun: Congrats on putting it together.

              Jaemin: Thank you! What are you doing today?

Being confused. It seemed like that was pretty high up on his list for the day if this conversation continued the way it was going.

              Renjun: I have classes. Then an assignment I need to work on.

              Jaemin: Oh we love an educated mind! Me tooooooo I need to go to the library

              Renjun: Have fun.

              Jaemin: Thanks!! You too!!!!!!

-

He thought it might stop then, but it didn’t.

Jaemin’s messages came sporadically throughout the day.

He complained about cold weather while Renjun ate his cereal.

He provided a narrative of his classes, some of which were amusing, some of which seemed more like venting about bad lecturers and unhelpful classmates.

He took a photograph of the meal he made himself in the evening, sat on a pink glazed plate that had ducks around the edges. It looked like lasagne that he’d made. It looked good.

Renjun’s stomach growled, and from his seat across the table, Yangyang sent him a strange look.

“Hungry?”

“Does this look good to you?”

Yangyang stared at the image for a minute before nodding. “I’d eat that. I’d eat like, four times that amount, too. Did someone make it for you?” He smiled, angelic and fake. “Can you bring me some?”

“No. No one made it for me, it’s just… a friend.”

“You have friends? That you don’t immediately name? Sounds suspicious.”

Renjun kicked out under the table, smug when it landed perfectly in the centre of Yangyang’s shin. “Write your essay.”

“I’ve written more than you! You’ve been smiling at your phone like a loser the whole time we’ve been here!”

The sad thing was, he was right. Renjun had done his best to ignore the messages, but Jaemin was incessant, and the worst part was that Renjun didn’t even mind. He liked reading about Jaemin’s day for some reason. He liked seeing his lasagne, even if it did make him hungry.

              Renjun: Wow. Looks tasty. I’m jealous.

              Jaemin: The way you use punctuation throws me off! Are you being sarcastic?

              Renjun: Not at all. I genuinely think that looks really good. My stomach growled in the library when I saw it.

              Jaemin: Aw ☹ I’ll make extra for you next time!!!

It was a nice thought. A nice daydream to keep him smiling while he looked up random articles to footnote into the essay he’d barely proofread.

The image of Jaemin making extra lasagne kept him warm all the way home, after the latest buses had already left campus and Renjun had to walk the forty minutes back to his apartment building, breath steaming in the cold night air.

              Jaemin: It’s getting late. Sleep well, Renjun!

He warmed again, briefly, and replied the same. Then he unlocked his door and stepped inside, and a little more of the cold returned.

-

He’d never realised that self-awareness could feel so unpleasant. It was meant to be a sign of intelligence or something, the gateway to inner peace and cosmic understanding. It just felt like embarrassment to Renjun. An almost painful ache that was halfway between his heart and his stomach that flared whenever he replied to a message from Jaemin.

He felt pathetic.

Jaemin was one of the friendliest, weirdest, nicest people Renjun had ever interacted with. Every single morning he told Renjun to have a good day. Every single morning, Renjun returned the sentiment.

“You’ve got that face,” Yangyang said a week later, in the same library seat, working on the same (now overdue) essay.

“Yeah,” Renjun said, staring at his phone under the table. Jaemin had just asked Renjun to watch his most recent stream, and Renjun was struggling with the best way to break the news that he already had. Desk built, Jaemin was back to gaming, and he was playing the same game that Donghyuck spent so long talking about, something with demons and monsters and a very unfair life-force mechanic. “I can’t change my face.”

“You look like you’re catching feelings.”

Renjun’s gaze shot up. “Excuse me?”

“You’re always texting someone. You spend hours staring at nothing, smiling. You haven’t told me to focus on my work even once today. Seems like love to me.”

“Seems like you’re being stupid to me.”

“That wasn’t a no. Does Donghyuck know?”

“Stop it.” His voice came out colder than intended and Yangyang sat back, eyes wide. “There’s nothing to tell him.”

“Okay,” Yangyang said uneasily. “That’s, uh, not a normal human reaction. You know that, right?”

“There’s nothing to tell him,” Renjun repeated. “I mean it.”

Yangyang scrutinised him for a moment, uncharacteristically concerned. “If you say so. You can talk to me if you need to, Renjun. I won’t tell anyone, not even Ten.”

“Thank you.” He kicked Yangyang, gently this time. “I appreciate it, but there seriously isn’t anything going on. I’m just being stupid.”

“I don’t think it’s possible for you to be stupid.”

“I chose Donghyuck as a best friend, didn’t I?”

Yangyang laughed. “Good point.”

-

“I wish I could be like you. You never – you don’t need anyone.”

It was a pretty façade, and one he didn’t want shattering.

-

Jaemin became something of a guilty pleasure. On the nights that Renjun got too far into his own head, he’d send something blunt and bordering on rude, like ‘Why are you texting me?’

The guilt was always immediate though, and only doubled when Jaemin replied, as he always did, with the tone of a man that wore his heart on his sleeve. ‘Because I like talking to you!’

There the guilt and the pleasure mingled into one muddy emotion he wasn’t brave enough to name.

So he watched Jaemin’s streams without saying anything, without telling anyone. He never truly understood what was happening, because the games were obscure ones he’d never heard of and Jaemin never slowed down enough to let Renjun’s mind catch up. But even that confusion was part of the fun. Jaemin’s chat was full of hilarious people that left the stupidest comments that made him laugh, and Jaemin always responded in kind, the same absolute bullshit that shouldn’t have been amusing but somehow was.

It was a guilty pleasure, and one that he couldn’t stop. Even if he could go back and stop his drunken self from pushing Donghyuck into his desk chair, he didn’t know if he would.

As sad as it was to admit, he hadn’t realised how lonely he felt before his spare time was occupied by Jaemin. He had Donghyuck and Yangyang and Mark, sure, but the life of a student was at times entirely isolating. Everyone had an unbearable workload to deal with, and naturally there were times each month that social contact took a backseat.

Renjun had always been the friend that dealt with it well, that emerged from assignments mostly unscathed. He knew how to take care of himself. He knew how to organise his time, how to spread out his workload, how to pace himself. He always submitted his assignment at least a week early, because that was the best way to ensure he didn’t stress himself needlessly with fast approaching deadlines he was rushing to meet.

That last week, whether intended or not, was when most students were submitting their work. Donghyuck could never answer his phone, because he practically lived in the back of the library, pages of equations spread out across his desk as he typed furiously, eyes on his laptop screen. Mark could never manage to find time to meet up for lunch, because as soon as his assignment was submitted he had to catch up on soc activities. Yangyang – well, if he submitted his assignments, it was in the last forty seconds, which wrote off the entire week for him.

And that week spent mostly alone had never been a big deal.

Renjun would catch up on his laundry, he’d clean his apartment, he’d buy a couple of books and read in the park if the weather was nice.

He’d barely managed to buy groceries this time, and even that was because Jaemin had mentioned he was running out of coffee beans.

He felt pathetic. He felt like a loser.

Was he really that starved of human connection? Of course he wasn’t, so why the hell was acting like this? If it were Donghyuck, Renjun would have laughed. He would have laughed at anyone for behaving like this, but it wasn’t funny when he looked in his fridge and found it empty because he’d been too busy watching Jaemin play Phasmophobia to buy himself something to eat for dinner.

That wasn’t funny.

              Jaemin: Sorry I didn’t text you last night, the stream ended up being much longer than I’d anticipated! Scaring Jisung is so much fun hehe. Did you enjoy your evening?

And what the hell could Renjun say to that? Yeah, I enjoyed it a lot. By the way, I think I have stupid unrealistic feelings for you.

              Renjun: It was fine thanks. Glad you enjoyed your stream.

-

He dragged himself to the bookstore after that. There was only so long he could lie on his bed and yearn without decaying into the sheets, and it was getting to the point that he was starting to hate himself.

After a long shower and even longer styling his hair, he started to feel more like himself. He looked more like himself too, especially when he was wearing his jeans. When the workload got tough, he usually lived in yoga pants for comfort, but jeans felt like he was making an effort, even if the effort was just for buying a historical romance novel to read on a bench somewhere.

It was more than he’d achieved in like two weeks, so he was happy with himself as he locked up the apartment and made his way towards campus.

There were bookstores closer to his apartment, but naturally the biggest he knew was close to the university, stocked full of guides, textbooks, and compulsory reading. It had an entire floor dedicated to fiction though, and that’s where Renjun went.

It was nice.

Just to breathe, to be on his own in a good way, to browse the spines of books he hadn’t read yet, deliberating, deciding.

“Don’t buy that one, it sucks. It’s really… you know. Women-hatey.”

Renjun put the book he had been holding back on the shelf. It took him a moment, because his ears were ringing, but when he managed to turn around and face Jaemin, the first thing he said was, “You’re not pink anymore.”

Jaemin’s hair was black.

He was tall, much taller than he looked though a camera.

He was prettier in person.

“Ah,” he said, “Do you watch my streams? I dyed it this morning because maintaining the pink was getting to be a little too much work.”

“I’m Renjun,” was all he could manage.

Jaemin’s eyes widened. “Renjun? No way, I was about to hit on you!”

And lovestruck or not, that still hurt. “What, you’re not gonna do it anymore?”

“I mean, do you want me to?”

“You can’t just tell me that when I was facing away from you I was good enough to hit on but the second I face you is when you change your mind! Do you know how insulting that is?”

“You’re deliberately misunderstanding me!” Jaemin complained. “I was going to hit on the hot stranger in the bookstore, but you’re not a stranger!”

“So I’m not good enough to hit on is what you’re saying?”

Jaemin groaned, tipping his head back. “Do you want to go for coffee?”

“Not when you ask like that,” Renjun said, defensive. “Now you’re acting like it’s a chore.”

Jaemin got down onto one knee.

“No!” Renjun exclaimed, backing away. “Not like that either!”

Jaemin snagged his hand before he could leave. “Renjun,” he said, eyes earnest. “I know we haven’t known each other for too long, but you’re more than a hot stranger to me.”

“There are people watching us, Jaemin! Get up!”

“Will you go for coffee with me?”

“If I say yes will you get up?”

“Maybe,” Jaemin said. “You are gay, right? Tell me before I get too invested.” He still had hold of Renjun’s hand, and as humiliating as it was to see the woman at the tills staring as if Jaemin had grown an extra head, his thumb was rubbing circles into the skin on Renjun’s knuckles. It was distracting.

“I’m gay. I’ll come for coffee,” Renjun managed past whatever was sat at the base of his throat. His heart, maybe. “If you promise to never do this again.”

“I promise not to do it again today,” Jaemin said, still on his knee.

It was as good as Renjun was going to get, so he just nodded, relieved when Jaemin finally stood up.

Relief morphed to confusion when Jaemin stepped around Renjun to pick up a book from one of the higher shelves. He took it to the woman at the counter without even glancing at the blurb, and it wasn’t until they were outside of the store that Renjun realised what was happening.

Jaemin passed him the bag. “This is much better than the novel you picked up. And the author isn’t a misogynist.”

“Thank you, that’s really kind,” Renjun said faintly. It was a genuinely nice thing to do, but he was still in shock from a number of things, Jaemin being real for one, and the extreme public embarrassment being another.

“It’s as much for me as it is for you,” Jaemin said with a pretty smile. “I only date feminists.”

-

Date.

Date?

“Date?” Renjun asked, after accepting his cappuccino with murmured thanks.

Jaemin nodded. “Can’t you tell? I’m courting you.”

“You’ve bought me a cappuccino.”

“Courting takes time. I can’t start with the wedding ring, can I?”

He had the horrible urge to throw his cappuccino on Jaemin’s white shirt, but he tensed his muscles and moved his hands below the table. The café Jaemin had led him to was nice and bright, covered in plants and full of friendly faces. It wasn’t the place to have a fistfight, as much as the urge was there.

Now that he’d sat down, everything was catching up with him in a dizzying, almost painful way. The day he was meant to be purging Jaemin from his system was the day that they met in person, and now they were getting coffee. If Jaemin were to be trusted (yet to be decided) then they were on a date.

It was a lot to handle in a twenty-minute period.

Jaemin’s heavy gaze didn’t make things any easier, either. Renjun felt like he was seconds from being eaten.

“So,” Jaemin said. “Good to know you’re not a sixty-year-old.”

“Thanks?”

“You can never tell with Twitch chat.”

Which was – yeah. Hundreds of basically anonymous messages meant that anyone could be anyone.

“I do have older people in my chat,” Jaemin said. He took a sip of his coffee and smiled. “It’s great! They’re all lovely, but I don’t wanna date them, you know?”

“Good to know,” Renjun said. He didn’t understand much of what was happening, but maybe that was for the best. If he was aware of himself, he’d probably fuck everything up. “So you’ve been thinking of dating me?”

Jaemin sat back, pondering. “Not really. I mean, which gay doesn’t fantasise about every nice person they meet, right? So I kind of did, but not to the extent of anything weird. I just… I don’t know. I liked talking to you, and you helped me build my desk. I guess I did think about dating you. Just a little.”

Either Renjun was friends with liars, or Jaemin was way too honest. Probably both. The way Jaemin threw around the word date made Renjun want to climb under their table and hide there for a while. Date? He hadn’t dated in months. He couldn’t remember the etiquette.

“What about you?” Jaemin asked, eyes twinkling. They shone so much in person. His eyelashes were so long. It was almost annoying how beautiful he was.

“What about me?”

“Did you think about dating me?”

Renjun laughed. “No.”

“No?” Jaemin pouted. “Why not?”

“You’re basically a celebrity.”

“And?”

“And?” Renjun repeated. He scoffed. “I’m not fucking delusional, that’s why.”

“I am,” Jaemin said. He took another sip of his coffee, scrutinising Renjun closely. “I tried to picture you in my head, but I didn’t even know what your voice was like. I thought you’d be a little taller. A little… buffer.”

“Huh?”

Jaemin shrugged. “After the desk saga, I thought you’d be at least vaguely like a lumberjack. I like you as you are, though. Way more than my delusions.”

The embarrassed blush was climbing its way back up his neck, prickly and unpleasant. Renjun tried not to squirm. “Thanks.”

“Are you thinking about it now?”

“Thinking about what?”

“Dating me.”

Why would you want me to? It was hot at the back of his throat, a burn that he did his best to swallow back down. Renjun had never been insecure, but to say that Jaemin was in another league would be an understatement. The brief (shameful) Na Jaemin google had shown Renjun that among his various platforms, Jaemin had over a million followers. A million. Even if Renjun was a model, out of a million other people the likelihood of him being the best looking was miniscule. He wasn’t insecure, but he was a realist, even if the past couple of weeks had made him falter. Even meeting Jaemin had seemed next to impossible, so why would he upset himself by imagining more when he knew it could never happen?

But now he had met Jaemin.

And he liked him. He liked him even more in person.

“I don’t know,” Renjun whispered, cold hands clenching in his lap. “Are you think about it?”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about it since I saw you,” Jaemin said. He cocked his head and smiled, small and genuine. “I think you might be the most gorgeous person I’ve ever met, and I already know that your personality matches your appearance.”

And what could he say to that?

Jaemin sipped his coffee again, reminding Renjun that his cappuccino was probably getting cold. “No pressure,” Jaemin said. “I know I come on strong, but that’s just who I am. I want you to be comfortable, but if you’re okay with it, I’d love to take you on a date. A real one, I mean. This is nice, but it’s just coffee, if that’s all you want it to be. The choice is entirely yours.”

He felt weak in the knees, and in the throat, and just about everywhere else too.

“You already have my number,” Renjun finally said. “I’m sure we can organise a dinner for when we’re both free.”

Jaemin’s smile was worth the way Renjun’s heart stuttered.

-

He got back to his apartment in a daze. He didn’t even get annoyed to find that Donghyuck had used his spare key to make himself at home.

“I was lonely,” Donghyuck said from Renjun’s bed. “I finished my essay and realised how much I missed you.”

Renjun didn’t question it this once. He toed off his sneakers and climbed into bed beside Donghyuck, letting himself be moulded into the little spoon so Donghyuck could curl around him and burrow his face into Renjun’s neck.

“Where have you been today?”

“I went to the bookstore,” Renjun murmured, reaching back to stroke a hand over Donghyuck’s arm. “Then I grabbed a coffee with a friend.”

“A friend?”

“Yeah. We just met, but he seems nice.”

Donghyuck didn’t ask questions either, which was rare. They were always in each other’s business, but in the quiet of the afternoon, curled around one another, it seemed that they’d found an equilibrium. “That’s good,” Donghyuck said. “You deserve to be surrounded by nice people.”

“You do too.”

They fell asleep like that, fully clothed and above the sheets.

When they woke up, hours later, it was dark. The lights were off, but the apartment was warm.

Donghyuck cooked dinner while Renjun picked a movie, and then they moved to the couch and fell asleep there too.

-

Dinner was set for Saturday.

Renjun spent an hour worrying about his hair, his clothes, his shoes, his breath, and just about anything else he could think of before leaving the apartment in a rush, only ten minutes left until he was due to meet Jaemin.

He wanted to tell Donghyuck, but he didn’t know how to say it yet. The independent me that you admire? Yeah, well he gave up as soon as the guy he was yearning after gave him a second glance. Sorry.

Jaemin was stood outside of the restaurant when Renjun arrived, the best part of thirty seconds to spare before he was officially late.

Luckily, Jaemin spotted Renjun before he could panic. “Renjun! You look great!”

“You do too,” Renjun said, a little awkward but very happy when Jaemin pulled him close and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. Jaemin smelled of rich coffee and some kind of expensive, woodsy cologne. He looked like a model, but Renjun was starting to get used to that. The black hair still felt like a surprise, but it looked amazing. Jaemin just – looked amazing. Always, but especially now, in his tailored black slacks and his forest green turtleneck. He had a shoulder to waist ratio that made Renjun almost ill with envy, but it didn’t seem so bad when he was on a date with that ratio.

Jaemin led him inside, to a table that was already set. The waiter just smiled as they passed, throwing Jaemin a wink that Renjun probably wasn’t meant to see.

He sank down into his seat and waited for Jaemin to settle opposite before asking, “Do you take all of your dates here?”

Jaemin blushed, laughing nervously. “No! The waiter is my friend. He knew – I told him we’d be coming. He knew how excited I was.”

It was a lot sweeter than Renjun had expected, so he just nodded. It did make Renjun feel a little weird though, knowing that Jaemin lived so close by. He had friends here. He went to university here. And somehow Renjun had never seen him.

When he said it aloud, Jaemin just shrugged. “I’m a computer science student. I keep odd hours, so unless your sleep schedule is as fucked up as mine, it’s not surprising to know we never crossed paths. We probably have mutual friends somewhere along the line, though.”

Renjun nodded, chewing on his bottom lip. Which friend did he have that knew literally everyone on campus? There was only one person that came to mind. “Do you know Mark Lee?”

“The Canadian cutie? Yeah, I do. He’s streamed with me a couple of times, actually!”

Renjun nodded. That made sense. “Lee Donghyuck?”

Jaemin took a sip of his drink, thinking. “I’m not sure. He doesn’t sound familiar.”

The emotion that flooded him felt a lot like relief. If Jaemin had met Donghyuck, he certainly wouldn’t have forgotten about it. No one did.

“Now let me ask you this,” Jaemin said. “Do you know Zhong Chenle?”

“Chenle?”

“We stream together too. He talks about his friend Renjun, and you’re acting a lot like the mysterious guy that helps him with homework and babies him more than he deserves.”

It had been a couple of weeks since he’d last seen Chenle. The last time had been a few days before he’d gotten blackout drunk with Donghyuck and ruined his desk chair. At different schools, it was difficult to find times that they were both free. Renjun hadn’t realised just how long it had been until Jaemin had mentioned Chenle’s name.

“That’s me,” he murmured. “God, it’s been too long since I saw him. I need to book a train and go visit.”

“From what I hear, he’s pretty swamped right now anyway. I’m sure there are no hard feelings.”

Renjun nodded, but the guilt lingered.

“Hey,” Jaemin said, reaching across the table to squeeze Renjun’s hand, “Don’t torture yourself, you can call him later. Besides, if you spend the whole meal thinking about Chenle, I’ll be jealous.”

It startled a laugh out of Renjun that only increased when Jaemin pouted, eyebrows wiggling.

When the waiter came back to take their orders, Renjun didn’t even mind the salacious wink this time. When he returned it, he looked back to the table to find Jaemin staring at him, an odd combination of pride and something deeper in his gaze.

-

Considering how much of an enigma Jaemin’s personality appeared on his Twitch streams, Renjun was pleasantly surprised to find that Jaemin was an incredibly earnest, incredibly kind person in real life. He had a way of speaking that made Renjun feel like he was the centre of the world, holding eye contact indefinitely until he looked down to make sure his forkful of steak made it to his mouth instead of his shirt. He laughed at Renjun’s jokes too, and not in a haha-show-me-some-hole kind of way, but in a genuinely-enjoying-his-company kind of way.

They argued over who would pay, but when it became clear to Jaemin that Renjun would resort to violence, the bill was split.

Jaemin walked Renjun back to his apartment complex, leaving him with another chaste kiss on the cheek and one last wink. “Could I persuade you to come on another date with me next week? I stream on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, but other than that all of my plans are optional.”

“You could persuade me,” Renjun said, waiting expectantly to be kissed. He tilted his head up, not missing the way Jaemin’s eyes focused on his lips, pupils dilating slightly.

“I’m trying to be a gentleman,” Jaemin said, eyes still on Renjun’s lips. “Rome wasn’t built in a day, and I don’t want to rush something this good.”

“This good? We’ve only had one date.”

“You meant a lot to me before the date.” Jaemin cocked his head. “Do you know how many people take me seriously? Not many. I don’t think you realise how much that manual you made helped me. I didn’t want to take up most of my stream times with building, but I’m in full time education, and I don’t have much time to myself. I couldn’t find any good instructions online, and I was stuck.”

“There weren’t any good instructions,” Renjun admitted. “When I looked, I had to use four separate websites to piece together what you had to do and what order you needed to do it in.”

Jaemin nodded. “How long did it take you?”

Renjun felt his blush return. “I don’t know exactly. A couple of hours.”

“And you drew those diagrams for me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you own a scanner?”

“No, I went to the library.”

“So a couple of hours, plus however long it took you to get to the library and back.”

“Yes.”

Jaemin nodded like Renjun’s agreement proved something. “Okay. I’ll leave you here, Renjun. Send me a text once you’re in your apartment nice and safe and I’ll head home.”

“You don’t want to come up?”

“Not tonight.” Jaemin kissed his cheek again, warm, and this time lingered a moment. “Sleep well, Renjun. I’ll miss you until I see you again.”

-

He got in and text Jaemin.

He rang Chenle and agreed to visit as soon as they both had a whole day free.

He poured himself a green tea, changed into his pyjamas, and then curled up on the couch, eyes on the window. The sky was cloudy, the stars hidden, but Renjun couldn’t have seen them anyway.

He stared at nothing and wondered if tomorrow was too soon to ask for another date.

-

And he kind of thought that his stomach would never settle, that the spike of fear whenever he saw Jaemin would never dissipate, but it did. It took a while, but it did.

Now that he knew they shared a campus, he seemed to see Jaemin everywhere.

Buying coffee at the expensive campus café, looking blearily down at his phone in grey sweats that were at least two sizes too big.

Emerging from a lecture hall in the middle of a group of other students, surrounded by smiling faces all turned towards him like daisies to the sun.

Sat in an aisle in the library, reading a photography magazine instead of one of the books he’d stacked beside him.

He seemed to be around every corner, on the other side of every street.

It helped, in a way. He was just another student, someone nightmarishly beautiful, sure, but still a student. He wore sweats to his morning classes. Sometimes he didn’t brush his hair. He fell asleep at public desks, he made too many plans with too many people.

The sickness and the fear died down with every glance, every reminder of Jaemin’s mortality. The butterflies never escaped, but they stopped hurting like they had at that first, panicked meeting.

“Renjun!”

He glanced up to see Jaemin smiling widely, jogging across the street to catch up with Renjun’s almost-jog to the class he was almost late to.

“Hey,” Renjun said, surprised and happy. If there was one thing he had learnt it was that Jaemin spent a majority of his time deep in his own head. Renjun probably could have passed by him so close that their fingers brushed and Jaemin probably wouldn’t have realised. Renjun didn’t take offence though, some people were just like that. Donghyuck was, too.

Jaemin cupped Renjun’s face with one hand, stroking his thumb over Renjun’s cheek before stepping back, a little red. “I knew I recognised that black and white hair. Are you busy right now?”

“I’m just on my way to one of my classes,” Renjun said, apologetic. “I can’t – I can’t really afford to skip it.”

“That’s okay! I just wanted to say hello. Are we still good for lunch tomorrow?”

“Definitely.”

Jaemin’s smile widened. “Good. Great. Fantastic. I’ll pick you up at twelve?”

Renjun nodded, delighted when Jaemin pressed another kiss to his cheek. Jaemin seemed to be fond of those quick but intimate displays of affection.

“See you later, then,” he said, pulling away.

“See you tomorrow,” Renjun said, now decidedly late for his class. “Have a good day, Jaemin.”

“I definitely will now that you’ve told me to,” Jaemin replied with a bright grin. “If you can, tune into the stream tonight! I’ll make sure to play something fun for you.”

-

And because he was falling faster than he should have been, he tuned into the stream and watched Jaemin play the new version of the Spyro trilogy for the better part of four hours.

              Hyuck: Hi sexy

              Renjun: Hey. You okay?

              Hyuck: Yeah I just miss you. Can I come over tomorrow night?

              Renjun: Of course you can. 6?

              Hyuck: That sounds good😊 Also! There’s a party on Saturday that Mark’s friend is hosting, you in? No assignments mean our first guilt free party since the beginning of the month!

              Renjun: Sure, Hyuck. If you want to go then we’ll go together.

              Hyuck: Amazing!!! Love you

              Renjun: Love you too. Always.

-

Lunch was uneventful as far as extremes. They stopped by a Subway to pick up some sandwiches and took them to a nearby park, ate by the pond, and then spent ten minutes wrestling because Jaemin thought it would be funny to pick Renjun up and try to throw him in the water.

In autumn.

“We will not be friends if you do this,” Renjun said, hanging upside down from Jaemin’s shoulder. He had a nice view of Jaemin’s lack of ass, but unfortunately it didn’t dampen his attraction. He wanted to be kissed. He was waiting for it. If they counted the café after the bookstore, then this was their third date. Why wasn’t Jaemin kissing him yet?

“You could have my coat,” Jaemin said, walking the perimeter of the pond as he decided on the best spot to drop Renjun. “I’ll keep you nice and warm.”

“I won’t be warm, I’ll be wet.”

Jaemin laughed low in his throat. “Yeah, you will.”

The target was right there, so Renjun smacked Jaemin’s ass hard enough to leave a mark.

Jaemin’s knees buckled, and if he hadn’t caught himself and staggered away from the banks at the last minute, they would have both ended up in the water. “Hey! Play nice.”

“Stop trying to fucking dunk me in the pond like a kid!”

Jaemin dropped Renjun unceremoniously on the ground, then took a seat beside him. “I wouldn’t have done it, not really,” he said, eyes twinkling. “I just like teasing you. You’re easy to tease.”

“I’m not,” Renjun said from the ground. “You’re just especially annoying.”

It shouldn’t have made Jaemin happier, but it was evident that it did. “Do you feel it too?”

Renjun struggled to sit up, but Jaemin offered a hand and helped him until he felt steady. The grass was a little damp, but nothing bad enough to complain about. “Feel what?”

“Like we’ve always known each other.”

“Oh,” Renjun managed, weak. He hadn’t thought of it like that, but – yeah. Jaemin felt like familiarity. Warm and kind and fun in a way few people were. Renjun had thought that it was just Jaemin, but maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was them. Their dynamic.

“If you don’t, please don’t feel like you have to say you do,” Jaemin said, smile slipping into an expression a little more earnest. “I keep meaning to rein it in a little, but every time I look at you my mouth starts running without my permission.”

“I’m not –” Renjun stopped, struggling. “I find it harder to say things like that than you. But I do. Feel it.”

Jaemin threw himself backwards and pulled Renjun down with him so they were staring up at the cloudy sky. It wasn’t the right kind of weather for it, but that didn’t matter. Renjun found himself curling into Jaemin’s side, and Jaemin pulled him closer.

They lay there for a couple of minutes, and they were maybe some of the most precious seconds of Renjun’s life so far.

“Hey,” Jaemin said quietly. “I was gonna say that you’re the Sully to my Mike Wazowski, but would you rather be Mike? I’m happy either way.”

Happy either way. Renjun was beginning to understand that sentiment. “Whatever you’d prefer, Jaemin,” he said. “I really don’t mind.”

-

“What do you feel like watching?” Renjun asked after Donghyuck got off the phone with the pizza place.

“Something with romance.”

“Yeah? That doesn’t narrow it down that much.”

Donghyuck flopped onto the couch and pressed himself against Renjun, warm and cuddly. “What do you feel like watching? You always let me pick.”

He hadn’t really thought about it, but if he had to pick a romance film, there was always going to be his first choice. “Ten Things I Hate About You.”

Donghyuck hummed. “Good choice. Let’s do it.”

So they did it, and as he always did, Donghyuck asked, “Would you fall for him? The popular class clown?”

And as he always did, Renjun was about to reply with a heavy, deliberate, no. But he didn’t.

Donghyuck glanced up, waiting. “Renjun?”

“I think it depends,” he said, eyes on the screen. “You never know who will make you happy until it happens, right?”

Donghyuck took a moment before answering, eyeing Renjun. “You’re right, as always,” he said. He snuggled back down, turning towards the film again. “Whenever you’re ready, tell me what’s on your mind. I promise I’ll listen to you.”

“I know you will,” Renjun said, stroking a hand through Donghyuck’s hair. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” Donghyuck mumbled against Renjun’s thigh. “Always.”

-

“So you’re dating Na Jaemin?”

Renjun groaned. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Chenle didn’t look impressed. “You always know what you’re doing, so stop making excuses. Are you dating him or not?”

“I think I am, but –“

“But what? He’s more sensitive than he looks, Renjun. Don’t lead him on.”

“I’m not!”

Chenle finally smiled. “I know. You’re just easy to tease.”

“He said that, too,” Renjun grumbled. He pulled Chenle close. “I missed you. How’s school?”

“It’s okay. Tough right now, but I’ll get through it.”

“You will,” Renjun said into Chenle’s hair. “Donghyuck was sad he couldn’t come with me today, but he had a presentation he couldn’t miss.”

“Have you told him yet? About Jaemin?”

“Not yet. Everything is very new. I only met him two weeks ago.”

“You don’t have to hide him, Renjun. I know you take babying Donghyuck very seriously, but you’re not actually a dad introducing his new wife to his kid. Donghyuck won’t hide in his room and refuse to eat his dinner if he finds out you’re dating someone.”

“Since when did you get wise?”

“I’ve always been the smartest one in our group,” Chenle said, raising one brow. “Are you going to argue against that?”

“No,” Renjun said, pulling Chenle closer. “But only because I’ve missed you so much.”

-

Three was an awkward number, and that worried Renjun.

Donghyuck was strong, probably the strongest person Renjun knew, but he was also incredibly vulnerable. When he hurt he did it secretly, bleeding in his own company alone. That worried Renjun the most. The hurt, hidden from him.

He couldn’t fix what he couldn’t see.

-

              Jaemin: Have fun at your party tonight!

              Renjun: Thanks! What will you be doing?

              Jaemin: I have some studying to catch up on ☹

              Renjun: Sending you strength!

              Jaemin: Wow!!!! I feel it!!! I can do anything now!!!

-

He wanted to enjoy the party, he really did. He picked Donghyuck up and they each bought a bottle of wine en-route, and by the time they arrived at the stranger’s apartment they were both tipsy, happy to be together and happier to see a table full of free food.

It started off well, until Donghyuck left for the balcony to go and greet someone he knew, and then a familiar pair of sticky, unpleasant lips approached Renjun.

“Hi,” the guy said, a bottle of beer in one hand. “Do you remember me?”

“Ah, not really,” Renjun said, trying to school his expression into something apologetic. “Sorry, but no. I don’t think so.”

“You stole my drink a couple of weeks ago.”

“Did I?” His phone was vibrating in his back pocket, but not long enough for a call. What he wouldn’t have given for Jaemin to have called him then, complaining about an assignment he didn’t understand or a book he couldn’t find. “I must have been really drunk. I’m sorry.”

He pressed closer, as if Renjun wasn’t trying to worm his way through the crowd to the other side of the room. “You could buy me another.”

“Sure, just wait right here and I’ll go find a store-“

“I meant over dinner.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, but I’m really not interested. I’d be happy to replace your drink for you, though.”

“You seemed plenty interested the night you took my drink.”

He got it now, the reason Donghyuck always made that face when men crowded him at bars, why he hid in oversized clothes, why he glared until they left, not bothering with pleasantries. Some people were just fucking obtuse. “Like I said, I was drunk. I’m not drunk now, and I’m not interested.”

The man offered his drink, still smiling, like Renjun hadn’t said a fucking word. “You can have this drink, if you like. What do you study?”

“I don’t want your drink, and I’m not interested in making conversation with you.” Renjun offered him a tight, unpleasant smile. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“Fucking hell. I was just being nice.”

“Renjun?”

He turned towards the voice, relieved to see Yangyang. “Hi!”

“Hey,” Yangyang said, hugging him ever so gently. He looked at the guy. “Everything good here?”

“Yeah,” Renjun managed, tugging Yangyang away. His mood was down now, in the fucking gutter. “I think – I’m gonna leave now. I don’t want to stay.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. Where’s Hyuck?”

“Still outside, talking to Sungjin.”

Renjun didn’t know who Sungjin was, but that didn’t matter. He stuck his head through the balcony door and beckoned Donghyuck over. “Hey, I’m gonna head home. I’m not feeling it.”

“Okay,” Donghyuck said, immediately concerned. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, you stay and have fun,” Renjun said, forcing his smile to stay up. “Just, uh. Remember the guy with the sticky mouth?”

“Yeah.” Donghyuck’s eyes darkened. “He isn’t bothering you, is he?”

“He… tried. But I think I just want to go to bed now, if I’m honest. I don’t feel like partying now.” Renjun hugged Donghyuck close. “The best part of the night is always the beginning, anyway. When it’s just us and some wine, changing clothes for hours and then trying to find the right building.”

Donghyuck hugged him tightly. “You’re right. Go home then, and text me when you get there. Have you called a taxi?”

“Yeah,” Renjun lied. “It should be outside soon. Just enjoy your evening, okay?”

“Okay,” Donghyuck said. “If I get in a fight for your honour, will we still be friends?”

“It depends on if you’re defending it or not,” Renjun said. He squeezed Donghyuck’s arm. “See you tomorrow?”

“Definitely.”

-

He rang Jaemin as soon as he was outside of the building.

“Hey, how’s the party?”

“I just left,” Renjun said, stalking down the street. His thighs started to burn, but that was fine. He was still mad, and he wanted something to take his mind off it. A little pain and a little Jaemin would do the trick. “Some fucking dude at the party couldn’t take an obvious hint, and it pissed me off. I’m going home.”

“You’re okay?” Jaemin asked. “Safe?”

“Oh – yeah. Sorry, I didn’t think about how that would sound. I’m fine, just annoyed.”

There was a brief rustle, and then Jaemin was back on the line. “I’ve just finished up at the library, so I’ll come and meet you, make sure you get home.”

It slowed Renjun’s walk. “Jaemin,” he said softly, “You don’t have to-“

“I know that,” Jaemin said. “But I want to. Can you tell me where you are? I’ll start walking now.”

Disorientated and touched, Renjun looked for the nearest place of interest and told Jaemin. It was a Subway, because of course it was.

“I’ll be a couple of minutes,” Jaemin said, soothing. “Don’t miss me too much until then, okay?”

He didn’t have the energy to play hard to get. The brief fury had exhausted him and Renjun’s filters, his self-preservation barriers, they were all in tatters. “I miss you all the time. It feels unhealthy, Jaemin. I like you so much that I don’t know what to do with myself.”

The sound of Jaemin’s footsteps picked up speed. “It’s okay,” he said. “I know what to do with you.”

Renjun laughed, hopeless. “I’m being an idiot, aren’t I? I’m going to get my heart broken.”

“I’ll do everything I can to make sure that doesn’t happen, Renjun.”

“I keep thinking of your desk chair stream,” he choked out, eyes watering. “What was the fucking chance of me watching that? I just wanted to know what to do with my allen-key and there you were in your pink hair and a fucking tuxedo because you make no sense, and I think I started falling for you then.”

“Baby, I’m at the Subway but I can’t see you.”

“Oh,” Renjun said. He scrubbed at his eyes and looked around. “Turn the corner, I wandered over to the bakery without realising. Sorry.”

And then he was there. In yoga pants.

And Renjun was kissing him.

It was every movie kiss mixed into one but better because it was Jaemin, because it was midnight and he tasted of coffee and he kissed like he wanted to devour Renjun, like he wanted everything Renjun had, and Renjun wanted it too, he wanted to give everything he had, everything he was and would be –

Jaemin could have it. He could have all of it. Anything.

“Baby,” Jaemin crooned, pulling back just far enough to kiss Renjun’s cheek again, chaste, soft, loving. “You have to know it’s not just you. You have to know that.”

“But you’re used to being unreasonable,” Renjun said, eyes watering. He sniffed. “Kiss me again?”

Jaemin pressed their lips together, smiling. “Let’s get you home, Renjun. You need to rest, and I need to go and squeal into my pillow like a teenage girl.”

He laughed, startled, and then kept laughing until Jaemin kissed him again.

-

Donghyuck was hungover, which made his verbal communication slower than usual, but Renjun was full of dread, which put them on what felt like an almost even level.

“I’ve been wanting to play Phasmophobia, but I can’t find anyone willing to ghost hunt with me,” Donghyuck said over his eggs. “Mark looks like he’s going to cry every time I ask him to play.”

Renjun spat the words out before they could die and rot in his throat. “My boyfriend streams on Twitch. You should join him some time.”

Donghyuck’s gaze snapped up, but nothing shattered there. He considered Renjun for a quiet moment, assessing. “You have a boyfriend?”

This was it. “It’s new,” Renjun said. The sunlight emerged from behind the clouds and cut into his vision, making him squint. “When I say new, I mean we only met three weeks ago.”

Donghyuck didn’t reply. He kept his eyes on Renjun, steady, waiting. There wasn’t judgement there, or anger or hurt, just – Donghyuck. The same Donghyuck that always looked at him like that, when he knew something was coming, when he knew he’d already decided to take Renjun’s side.

“I’m falling in love with him,” Renjun admitted quietly.

Donghyuck’s eyes widened then. “Don’t you think it might be a little-“

“Early? Stupid? Of course I think that. I know it.” He shrugged, doing his best to act casual despite the relief that was making him feel dizzy, weightless. “Knowing I’m being reckless doesn’t change how I feel. It doesn’t change how he makes me feel.”

“And how is that?” Donghyuck asked. “How does he make you feel?”

Renjun thought of Jaemin’s smile. The way his eyes said everything his mouth didn’t, the way his touch had never been anything other than unfailingly gentle. “Comfortable,” Renjun said. “Happy. He makes me feel like taking a risk might be worth it.”

Donghyuck moved then. He lifted a hand and grabbed Renjun’s, linking their fingers together. “I’m glad,” he said, squeezing their hands tightly. “Your hands are always cold. Now you’ll have someone to keep the other one warm.”

“Yeah,” Renjun whispered, squeezing back, trying not to cry. “I guess I will.”

-

Three Years Later

He kicked Jaemin, who just groaned and rolled over.

“Jaemin.”

“What?”

“I can hear Jeno moving around. Go and see if he needs something.”

“It’s like five in the morning, if he needs something he can wait.”

“You’re being a terrible host.”

“So spank me.”

Renjun just kicked him again and climbed out of bed. He checked his phone, unsurprised to find that Jaemin had been right about the hour, and then wandered through to the living room.

Jeno looked up like a deer in headlights, as if flicking through Jaemin’s magazines was illegal.

“Hey,” Renjun said, wandering over to sit on the edge of the couch. “Are you okay? Do you need something?”

“I’m fine,” Jeno said. “I’m really sorry, did I wake you up?”

“No, Jaemin is hogging the sheets,” Renjun lied. “Is it the party? Sometimes I struggle to sleep after a party, too. It takes a while to wind down.”

Jeno nodded. There was a blush climbing up from the neck of his blue bear pyjamas. He was handsome and terribly sweet, and Renjun could see why Donghyuck was a little obsessed.

“How about some tea?” Renjun asked, standing. “I have decaf. It might help.”

“That would be great, thank you so much.”

So Renjun left Jeno with the magazines while he made two mugs of decaffeinated tea, and by the time he brought them through Jaemin was sat on the couch, scowling at the lamplight. His hair was a mess and he made grabby hands for the tea that Renjun passed over to Jeno.

Renjun gave Jaemin his own mug and sat down next to him, eyes on Jeno. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

“He’s fine,” Jaemin said. “He’s thinking about Donghyuck.”

Jeno’s blush deepened. “I’m not – I mean, I am, but not in a weird way. I promise.”

Renjun snorted. “Be my guest to think about him weirdly, just don’t tell me details.”

“I just – last night he –“

“I knew I did the right thing by not showing you any pictures,” Jaemin said, evidently pleased with himself despite being barely conscious. He took a sip of Renjun’s tea before passing it back over. “You needed your Baz Luhrmann Romeo and Juliet through the fish tank moment.”

“I didn’t expect him to be so… like that.”

“In a good way or a bad way?” Renjun asked, shoulders tensing.

“Good!” Jeno exclaimed. “In a good way! God, in such a good way!” He slumped. “I really like him.”

“Well, he likes you too,” Renjun said. “Surely you see that.”

“I guess I’m just nervous,” Jeno admitted. He sipped his drink, big eyes on the floor. “We’re going for lunch today, and I want to make a good impression.”

“I don’t think you could make a bad impression if you tried,” Jaemin said. “Donghyuck, however-“

Renjun flicked his bare arm. “Shut up.” He turned back to Jeno. “Look, you wouldn’t be staying here if you weren’t good enough for him. You wouldn’t be here if he didn’t like you, either. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Renjun takes looking after Donghyuck very seriously,” Jaemin said. “You’ve passed all of the necessary checks. There’s nothing left to be scared of other than Donghyuck’s morning hair.”

“Have you seen yourself?” Renjun scoffed.

“No,” Jaemin said, linking their hands together. He winked. “Why would I look at myself when I could look at you?”