Chapter Text
Nonchalant.
That's the word people use when they talk about Renjun. He doesn’t agree— not fully. It’s not that he doesn't feel things; he just doesn't react the way people expect him to. No dramatic outburst. No flinching. No wide eyes or dropped jaws.
Just… stillness. Like everything rolls off of him— even when it doesn’t.
He’s in his second year of university– psychology major.
It makes sense, right? It fits. Renjun is emotionally intelligent, but not in a way that demands attention. It’s all internal with him. He doesn’t go around sharing profound thoughts or deep feelings, but you can tell he notices things–
How people shift when they lie, the weight behind a silence, the difference between a fake laugh and a real one.
He keeps it to himself. Not out of secrecy, but he doesn't see the point in saying things that don’t need to be said.
The apartment is quiet when Renjun woke up. With a subtle stretch and a few rubs on his eye with the base of his hand, he checks his phone.
📱Group Chat: renjun’s fan club
lele
12:14 AM
renjun can you pleaseeee eat lunch with us tomorrow 😭
do you even like us still?? you always disappear now… you wound me 💔
sungie
2:09 AM
he loves me, don’t group us together LMAO
jun
7:36 AM
ok.
He doesn’t respond with anything more. Just a single “ok.” They’ll take it as a win. He hasn’t been able to eat with them lately because of… distractions.
Renjun locks his phone and gets out of bed.
Chenle and Jisung are what you’d probably call Renjun’s best friends.He’s never said it out loud—might not have even thought it directly—but… they just click.
He met Chenle back in high school. Renjun was a sophomore; Chenle, a freshman. Both Chinese, but Chenle had just moved over, and his English wasn’t quite there yet. Renjun got assigned to help him. Chenle was bubbly, loud, and quick to catch on.
Jisung came with the package. Quiet kid. Renjun didn’t know what to think of him at first, but somewhere along the way, he grew fond of him. In a quiet, strange way. Jisung thought Renjun hated him at first, but Chenle explained otherwise.
And they bonded. Hard. So hard that when it came time for college, they followed him. 4 years later. Renjun didn’t question it. Deep down, he knew they had some weird kind of adoration for him. He let them.
Once he steps out of his room, he quickly freshens up in the bathroom and then makes his way to the kitchen. He notices a figure on the couch. He doesn’t question it. He makes his regular morning coffee.
The said figure makes an obnoxious noise. A yawn. Renjun knows who it is. The one and only—Na Jaemin. He doesn’t really like him, but tolerates him because he’s Jeno’s boyfriend and they come in a pack. Just by seeing him, he knows this day is going to be… something.
Renjun does not turn around, just continues waiting for his coffee. Suddenly, there are very buff arms circling around his waist, and plump lips on his neck.
“Renjunnie, good morning.” Jaemin says with a very low and raspy voice in between the soft kisses he’s placing on Renjun’s neck, as well as his hands going under his shirt and rubbing his stomach slowly.
A muscle in Renjun’s jaw twitches.
Renjun doesn’t flinch. He never does. He just lets Jaemin do whatever he wants— like always.
“Hi Jaemin,” he says in a still voice, mixing his coffee.
Jaemin turns him around so he's looking at him.
Renjun lets out a soft sigh. He looks him in the eyes.
“Hi Jaemin.” he repeats, the same stillness in his voice as the previous one. Jaemin smiles.
“You know I like it when you look at me at least once a day, baby.” he freaking pouts. “You never look at me unless i initiate it.”
“Sorry.” Renjun says. He’s not quite sure he’s apologizing to this peculiar person but… whatever will make him leave him alone quicker so he can drink his coffee.
The sound of a door opening comes from the hall. He and Jaemin both look to the direction of where the sound is coming from.
It’s Jeno. He walks toward Jaemin and Renjun, like the sight is not questionable. Like hello..your boyfriend is holding your roommate in a sensual way.
But Jeno never minds. Not when it’s Renjun. He never has.
Then come more arms—Jeno’s. Buff, familiar. Renjun doesn’t flinch.
He feels a hand in his hair. Petting him.
Renjun still doesn’t really know how to feel about Jeno. They’ve been roommates for a little over a year. He doesn’t dislike him — in fact, out of everyone, Jeno is the easiest to be around. He’s his roomie after all… Renjun isn’t sure if it means something to him either.
Predictable. Low energy. Clean. But that familiarity comes with its own complications. Jeno touches him like it means nothing, and maybe to him it doesn’t. That’s the problem.
It’s not affection. Not exactly. Not desire either. It’s just… what happens.
He lets it happen.
“Morning Junnie.” Jeno says with his eye smile. Renjun’s used to this. Renjun presses his lips together a little bit. It’s the closest thing he can do to a smile.
“Hi Jeno.”
Jeno leans down to his neck, same place where Jaemin was pressing kisses, and does the same.
Inhales all of Renjun’s scent. He then starts planting long kisses. Soon, Renjun starts feeling wetness on his neck, because Jeno is sucking on one side, slowly..and dragging. Somehow Jaemin joined him and started sucking on the other side.
Renjun doesn’t flinch. He lets them do as they please.
What a strange couple…
Why does this happen to Renjun? Well— he’s not quite sure either. He gets into situations but he doesn’t care enough to get out of them. If you allow people to do as they please, they get bored quickly and leave you alone… eventually. Right?
They collect their protein shakes and water bottles, pressing kisses to his cheek and pulling him into lazy hugs before heading to the gym. They leave behind nothing but
silence… and the marks blooming on his neck.
Renjun stands there for a moment, staring into his coffee like it might give him answers. The warmth seeps into his palms, but it doesn’t reach anywhere deeper.
He should care. He knows that. There should be some sort of anger, confusion, even shame. But all he feels is the weight of routine settling on his shoulders. Like this is just another morning. Like he’s just playing a role someone else wrote for him.
It happened. It’s over. That’s all.
He finishes the last of his coffee, rinses the cup, and sets it upside down to dry.
Then he takes his meds—two pills, one bottle of water, and that dull, metallic taste that always lingers on the back of his tongue. He stands there for a second longer, watching the water level out in the bottle.
His phone buzzes.
📞 lele
He picks up. “Hello.”
“I’m outside.”
Renjun stares in front of him. “Why?”
“Because if I let you make plans, you’d cancel them. Get in. We’re picking up Jisung.”
A pause.
“I just took my meds,” Renjun says.
“Good,” Chenle replies. “Now bring your flatlined ass outside.”
The line cuts.
Renjun sighs. He pulls on a hoodie—no mirror check this time—and heads downstairs.
Chenle’s idling by the curb, sunglasses on, hood up despite the clouds. Renjun gets in, closes the door, and sinks into the passenger seat.
Chenle side-eyes him.
Then, “Are those hickeys?”
Renjun look at ahead. Doesn’t answer.
Chenle reaches across, pulling down the collar of Renjun’s hoodie slightly. His face twists.
“Bro. You let them do this to you? You’re letting them leave m-marks on you?” Chenle sputters.
He can tell Chenle is frustrated with him. But.. Renjun just doesn’t care. Telling them off would just be a waste of energy, and he doesn’t care enough to.
Renjun’s voice is quiet. “They just started doing it.”
“So say something.”
“It’s not worth it.”
Chenle stares at him like he wants to scream. “You do this thing where you let people feel like they’ve won just so you don’t have to deal with confrontation. That’s not peace, Renjun.”
Renjun shrugs. “It’s quiet.”
“It’s toxic.”
“Still quiet.”
Chenle clenches his jaw. “You really gonna let Jaemin and Jeno think they can keep getting the upper hand?”
Renjun doesn’t respond.
Chenle exhales sharply, picks up his phone, and calls Jisung on speaker.
📞 sungie
“Yo.”
“Renjun’s in the car.”
“I’m getting dressed.” Click.
Renjun finally looks over.
Chenle grins. “See? Even your shadow-ass presence got him moving. Now you’re stuck with us for the day.”
Renjun turns his head, resting it against the window. The glass is cool. The silence is easy.
“I’m not fighting you on it,” he mumbles.
Chenle smirks. “Good.”
Chenle pulls up in front of Jisung’s building. The door swings open before he can even throw the car in park.
Jisung climbs in, bright as ever, tugging the passenger seat open. “Hey, hyung,” he grins, leaning over to hug Renjun.
Renjun lets him. Arms still at first, then one hand comes up to pat his back. Barely.
“Hi,” he says, voice flat but not unfriendly.
Jisung pulls back like he didn’t notice the coolness. He never does. Slips into the backseat without a glance at Renjun’s neck. Doesn’t notice the marks. Or maybe he does and doesn’t say anything. Either way, the peace is left intact.
Chenle pulls off like he’s got somewhere important to be, music low but bumping just enough to rattle something under the dashboard. The sky’s still cloudy, and campus is just starting to come alive—students trickling in, coffee cups in hand, backpacks slung carelessly over shoulders.
He parks near the court, killing the engine with a dramatic sigh. “Alright, y’all are coming with me. Don’t argue.”
Renjun doesn’t even blink.
Jisung leans forward. “Where are we going?”
“Basketball court.”
Renjun exhales. “We’re watching you play basketball?”
“Yes.”
“Why.”
“Because I’m good.”
Jisung hums like he’s thinking. “You’re alright.”
Chenle whips around in his seat. “Wow. I drove all the way to come get y’all and this is the thanks I get?”
Renjun unbuckles slowly. “You didn’t want to be alone.”
Chenle clicks his tongue. “No one asked for psychoanalysis this early, yo.”
They get out of the car, Jisung trailing slightly behind, hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands. He walks next to Renjun as they cross the sidewalk.
“You hungry?” he asks him quietly.
Renjun shakes his head once.
“Cold?”
“I’m fine.”
Jisung pulls his hood further down anyway, like that’ll help. Renjun lets him. He doesn’t look at him, but he doesn’t move away either.
Chenle jogs a bit ahead, already tossing a ball in the air like he’s training for something.
“Ten minutes,” Renjun mutters under his breath.
Jisung hears it. “Fifteen.”
Renjun side-eyes him.
“What? He picked us up. It’s only fair.”
Renjun doesn’t argue. Just stuffs his hands in his pockets and walks a little slower, keeping pace with Jisung. The silence between them isn’t awkward. It never is. Jisung doesn’t fill it—he just walks in it with him.
That’s why Renjun lets him stay close.
They make it to the court. The bleachers are empty. Chenle tosses his bag down, strips his hoodie, and starts stretching like he’s training for nationals.
“Sit,” he calls out. “Cheer for me.”
Renjun drops onto the bench slowly. Jisung flops beside him, already pulling out a snack bar from his pocket.
“Chenle thinks he’s an athlete,” Jisung says between bites.
Renjun hums. “Delusional.”
“You love him though.”
“I tolerate him.”
Jisung chuckles.
From the court, Chenle yells, “I HEARD THAT.”
Renjun doesn’t even blink.
Jisung nudges him. “You okay?”
Renjun looks at him. Blinks once.
“Yeah.”
Jisung doesn’t press. Just unwraps another bar and offers Renjun half.
Renjun takes it.
Five minutes in, while Chenle’s mid-dribble and halfway through showing off a no-look shot that barely sinks, a black SUV slides into the lot.
The door opens and out steps Mark Lee—basketball shorts, low-hanging tank top, and his usual backwards cap. He’s got a smoothie in one hand, gym bag slung over his shoulder, and airpods tucked in his ears.
Chenle sees him and waves the ball overhead. “Yo!”
Mark throws up two fingers in greeting, steps onto the court casually.
Up on the bleachers, Jisung perks up. “Oh, that’s hyung.”
Renjun hums, not looking away from the court. “Who?”
“Mark. Chenle’s friend. They play together.”
Renjun just nods, slipping an earbud back in.
Mark jogs up to the court, dapping Chenle and starting a quick warmup with the ball. But he keeps glancing toward the bleachers. Toward the new face. The boy with the wired headphones in, sitting with perfect posture like he’s not even trying. Hoodie zipped up despite the mild weather. Pale marks trailing down the side of his neck.
Mark leans toward Chenle. “Yo. Who’s that?”
Chenle glances up. “Renjun.”
“Friend?”
“Complicated.”
Mark raises an eyebrow. “He your ex?”
Chenle laughs, then shakes his head. “Nah. Just… complicated.”
Mark grins. “Alright. Noted.”
Eventually, Mark makes his way over—part curiosity, part interest he doesn’t bother hiding. Jisung looks up and grins.
“Hyung,” he greets.
Mark fist-bumps him. “Yo, what’s up, dude.”
Jisung jerks his thumb toward Renjun. “That’s my friend. Renjun-hyung.”
Mark looks at him fully now. “Renjun,” he repeats. “Cool name.”
Renjun finally glances up, tugging one earbud out. His expression doesn’t shift. “Hi.”
Mark tilts his head slightly, smile tugging at his lips. “You hoop?”
Renjun shakes his head. “No.”
“Watch, then?”
Renjun’s voice is flat, but not rude. “I didn’t really have a choice.”
Mark bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling wider. His eyes flicker, just for a second, to the marks on Renjun’s neck. He says nothing.
“I’m Mark, by the way.”
“I figured.”
Mark raises his brows. “Oh?”
“You said ‘yo’ three times and called someone ‘dude’ twice. You’re either a Mark or a Kyle.”
Jisung snorts.
Mark presses his hand over his heart dramatically. “I feel like that was a compliment and an insult all at once.”
Renjun shrugs. “Take what you want from it.”
Mark laughs, genuinely now. “You’re funny.”
“I wasn’t trying to be.”
“Even better.”
He sits at the edge of the bleachers, legs wide, smoothie still in hand. The sun peeks out from behind the clouds and hits Renjun’s cheekbone just enough for Mark to notice the way his skin catches light. Sharp. Untouchable.
Mark watches the court, but his focus keeps drifting.
Renjun slips his earbud back in, not once looking at him again.
Which only makes Mark more intrigued.
They play for thirty more minutes.
Renjun doesn’t say anything the entire time. Doesn’t cheer, doesn’t move much, just sits there with his earphones in and his eyes half-focused on the court. He figured it would happen—Chenle dragging them out to watch him run up and down like he’s got a scholarship on the line.
Jisung, though, is losing it.
“This is not ten minutes,” he grumbles. “We’ve been out here for a minute, bro. My phone’s on ten percent. I’m hungry. There’s ants on this bench. I’m dying.”
Renjun hums vaguely like he’s listening. He’s not.
Chenle finally calls it after a dramatic layup he misses, throwing his hands in the air like it was all part of some master plan. Mark’s laughing, hunched over with his hands on his knees. Sweat clings to the edge of his hairline. He looks good—annoyingly so.
Jisung jumps up before they even leave the court, stomping over. “YOU SAID TEN MINUTES.”
Chenle: “Yeah, ten plus tax.”
Jisung looks up with pure anger. “WHAT THE FUCK..”
They argue off to the side, Jisung throwing his hoodie hood over his head dramatically while Chenle yells about athletes needing proper time to cool down.
Mark’s still on the court, breathing hard, ball tucked under one arm. He glances toward the bench where Renjun’s still sitting—headphones in, eyes half-lidded, posture easy.
He walks over. A little awkward. Kinda slow.
Renjun doesn’t look surprised.
Mark stops in front of him, shifting the ball from one hand to the other. “Yo.”
Renjun pulls one earbud out. Looks up. “Hm?”
Mark scratches the back of his neck, eyes darting to Renjun’s mouth before meeting his gaze. “Uh… I was wondering if I could get your number?”
Renjun doesn’t blink. Doesn’t shift.
He just says, “Sure.”
Takes his phone out, hands it over like it’s nothing. Like Mark didn’t spend the last half hour glancing over at him every chance he got. Like he didn’t notice. (He did.)
Mark types it in, presses save, then hands it back with a short, awkward laugh. “Cool. I’ll… text you or something.”
Renjun puts his earbud back in. “Okay.”
Not cold. Just… unmoved. Like he already knew it would happen.
Because he did.
Mark walks off trying not to smile.
Renjun watches him go, silent. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touches his lips.
After a moment, Mark leaves the court, and Renjun follows with Chenle and Jisung as they head out for lunch.
Renjun’s eyes fall on his phone. A new message from an unknown number lights up the screen. He unlocks it.
Unknown: Hey. It’s Mark.
He reads it, then notices a string of unread messages from Jeno and Jaemin.
jen: Hey, where are you?
jen: We came back from the gym and you weren’t here.
jen: Did you leave already?
jen: Thought we were going to hang after.
jen: Everything okay?
His thumb pauses over the screen. The silence between the messages feels heavier than the words.
Then more messages come through, from Jaemin. Sharper, annoyed.
jaem: You left without telling us?
jaem: That’s really annoying.
jaem: Don’t just disappear like that.
jaem: We were supposed to meet up later.
jaem: Next time, just say something.
jaem: Seriously, it’s disrespectful.
Renjun reads them quietly, then locks his phone without replying.
He doesn’t remember them asking to hang out. He wouldn’t have said no. It doesn’t bother him.
He looks out the window, focusing on the blur of passing streets.
Chenle and Jisung talk quietly, debating where to eat.
The car pulls up at a restaurant.
As they get directed on where to sit by a lady in the front. As they sit down. Chenle finally breaks. Renjun is a bit astonished of how long he lasted.
“Let’s talk about Jeno and Jaemin,” Chenle says flatly, pushing his water glass aside. “Specifically, how we’re gonna get rid of them.”
Renjun doesn’t look up from his phone. “They’re gonna get tired eventually, Chenle. It’s fine.”
His tone is as even as ever, but the slight twitch in his brow betrays him.
Chenle scoffs. “You’re literally letting them walk all over you. It’s painful to see.”
Renjun exhales through his nose and leans back. It’s not quite a sigh—more like quiet restraint.
For a while, Jisung doesn’t say anything. He keeps tapping at the condensation on his glass with his thumb, hesitant. But then he glances at Renjun, and something in him tips over. Maybe it’s because Chenle spoke first. Maybe it’s because he’s tired of pretending not to notice.
“Hyung,” Jisung says gently. “It’s not healthy to live like this. Please tell them off. I know you don’t care, but… for us? Please?”
Renjun doesn’t respond right away. His eyes remain trained on some far-off corner of the restaurant like he’s watching something no one else can see.
“Okay,” he says finally.
But it’s a lie. A soft one, meant to soothe. He’s not built for confrontation. And truthfully, the fight’s been drained out of him for a while now.
Chenle doesn’t buy it. “I hope you’re not just saying that,” he mutters, narrowing his eyes. Then louder—too loud: “Can’t believe you let them mark you!”
Jisung’s head drops to the table with a soft thud as he facepalms. “Bro…”
Renjun doesn’t flinch. His fingers tap a slow rhythm against the table, unfazed.
And then, like divine comedy, the server walks up at that exact moment.
It’s Donghyuck. He goes to their university. In some club with Jisung.
If Jisung knows him, Chenle does as well. Renjun just knows of him. Probably vice versa.
He’s wearing the usual black uniform, sleeves rolled up, smirk already in place. He claps a hand lightly on Jisung’s head in greeting, ruffling his hair.
“Yah, what’s with the long faces? Did you just confess and get rejected all at once?” he teases.
“Hey, Hyung…” Jisung mutters, sitting up straight and trying to smooth his hair, clearly praying Donghyuck didn’t hear Chenle’s last outburst.
Chenle perks up, totally unashamed. “Hey, Hyuck. Still being loud and nosy, I see.”
“Still being annoying and dramatic, I see,” Donghyuck shoots back, grinning. They exchange a look—playful, but sharp-edged.
“Can I take your orders or are y’all still working through a breakdown?” he asks with mock patience.
They rattle off their meals, and then his eyes land on Renjun.
It’s subtle—just a second too long. Something shifts in his expression.
“And you?” Donghyuck asks, voice smooth. He leans a bit closer, his tone dipping flirtatiously. “You look like you could use something sweet.”
Renjun meets his gaze calmly, but there’s a flicker of surprise in his eyes.
“I’ll take the strawberry waffles. No syrup,” he replies, ignoring the tone but not rejecting it either.
Donghyuck chuckles, scribbling it down. “Sweet but not too sweet. Got it.”
He lingers a second longer than necessary before walking off, humming under his breath.
Chenle stares at Renjun. “You didn’t even blink.”
Renjun shrugs. “Why would I?”
Jisung looks between the two of them, then back toward Donghyuck’s retreating figure. “I feel like we just witnessed something.”
“No,” Renjun says plainly, reaching for his water. “You didn’t.”
They really didn’t. He was just playing along.
But the small unnoticeable curve of his lips betrays him again
Their stomachs full and satisfied, Chenle drives them home with the windows cracked just enough for the late evening breeze. The car ride is quiet, but it’s the kind of silence that feels warm—not awkward.
They drop Renjun off first. All three of them get out of the car, lingering on the sidewalk like they don’t really want to say goodbye.
“Don’t make me come find you again…” Chenle mutters, half-joking, but his pout gives him away. “Answer our calls. Hang out with us, will you?”
Renjun sighs, letting a small smile creep onto his lips. He steps in and hugs Chenle first, wrapping his arms around him tightly—partly to comfort him, partly because he feels bad.
Chenle doesn’t let go right away. He stays in the hug longer than usual, knowing Renjun rarely initiates. When he finally pulls back, there’s a softness in his eyes.
Jisung steps forward and throws his arms around Renjun, swaying them gently back and forth.
“Love you, hyung,” Jisung says against his shoulder.
Renjun nods and gives him a small pat on the cheek. “Get home safe,” he murmurs, waving them off as they head back to the car.
He walks up to the front door, keys jingling in his hand, but before he can insert the key fully, the door creaks open. The key remains half-turned in the lock.
He frowns.
Jaemin stands on the other side of the threshold, leaning against the frame with one brow raised.
Of course. Why is he always here?
Jaemin has his own place, but it doesn’t stop him from lingering in Renjun’s like it’s his second home.
Before Renjun can say anything, Jaemin grabs his wrist and pulls him inside, smoothly plucking the key from the lock and closing the door behind them with a loud click.
He turns, gaze fixed on Renjun with something unreadable in his expression.
“Renjunnie…” Jaemin starts slowly, almost sweetly. “You saw our texts, right? Why didn’t you respond?”
Renjun’s tone is flat. “I was busy.”
“You didn’t ask me to hang out,” he adds, shrugging off his shoes. “I would’ve come if you told me.”
Jaemin tsks, stepping closer. “You knew what those texts meant.”
His hand lifts to brush against the side of Renjun’s neck, thumb grazing the faint marks that are already darkening into bruises.
Renjun says nothing. Doesn’t flinch. Just looks at him.
Jaemin smirks, as if satisfied by the lack of reaction.
Then—just like this morning—a sound from down the hall interrupts them. Soft footsteps, the faint swoosh of a towel.
Jeno appears, hair still damp, towel slung around his shoulders. He looks like he just stepped out of the shower. His usual eye smile greets them, disarming and familiar.
“Jaemin, leave him alone,” he says with a lazy chuckle, walking closer.
“Hey, Jun. How was your day?”
Renjun doesn’t answer right away. He watches Jeno with guarded eyes before responding, voice even.
“It was chill.”
Jeno raises a brow. “Yeah? What’d you do?”
Renjun exhales and leans back against the wall. “Watched Chenle play basketball. Met someone new. Gave them my number because they asked. Had lunch. Then came home.”
The energy in the room shifts instantly. The air feels heavier.
Both Jaemin and Jeno’s eyes darken at the same time. Neither of them says anything, but Renjun can feel it—their discomfort, their jealousy, masked under silence.
Jeno is the first to speak, smiling, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Sounds like fun.”
He steps closer, brushing a hand along Renjun’s back in a slow, measured motion.
Renjun doesn’t stop him. “It was okay…” he says, but his voice trails off like he’s already somewhere else.
Jaemin has circled around to his other side, his expression unreadable, but the tension in his jaw is obvious.
Jeno notices. He leans over and kisses Jaemin on the mouth—slow, soft, almost like he’s soothing him. When they pull away, they both look at Renjun.
“Let’s go to my room,” Jeno says simply, already walking toward the hallway with Jaemin at his side.
They don’t look back. They don’t have to. They know he’ll follow.
Renjun stands there for a moment, frozen.
He knows what’s going to happen. He always knows. And once again, he doesn’t stop it.
He pushes off the wall, walks toward Jeno’s room, and shuts the door quietly behind him