Chapter Text

**Word counts are on each fic! 

Chapter 2: NoMin

 Jaemin steals something from Jeno and they fight over it. So, of course, the most reasonable thing for Jeno to do is to steal one of Jaemin's things. You know, just to make it even.

Chapter 3: NoRenMin

Renjun goes into heat, the part of life that makes every omega want to die. Lucky for him, he has two entirely whipped boyfriends willing to pamper and baby him until it’s over  

Chapter 4: Sick Jaemin (no clear ships) 

Jaemin doesn't feel great as the group prepares for their upcoming album, Empathy. He doesn't want to quit, however, because the group is counting on him, and besides, it's his first comeback since Chewing Gum. He misses performing. He can't quit now.

Chapter 5: Jisung x NCT Dream

In which Jisung is drowning in depression after realizing that everyone in Dream is going to leave him. His boyfriends try to pull him out.

Chapter 6: NoMin

Jaemin can't people. People are just too confusing. He had no intentions to learn how to people, either. At least, not until he met Lee Jeno. Then, suddenly, people-ing doesn't sound so bad.

Chapter 7:  NoRen

Jeno hears about a certain Doctor Huang returning to Seoul. He decides to go and check out his charity clinic made up of RVs. Or, alternatively, Jeno finally works up to courage to talk to Renjun and apologize.

Chapter 8: MarkNo

Usually, it’s Jeno taking care of Mark and guiding him around like a lost duckling. Usually, Jeno makes sure that Mark is intact and gets to wherever he has to be. It’s extremely weird for Mark when he has to be the one taking care of Jeno because he’s so used to Jeno being able to take care of himself. So, when Jeno gets sick, Mark panics.

Chapter 9: NoMin

Jaemin is a sixth year in Slytherin. Jeno's a sixth year in Hufflepuff. Jaemin's a muggle-born, while Jeno's a pureblood. All of these factors are why their relationship is kept secret. And so they meet at midnight, to talk, to kiss, to do...questionable things.

Chapter 10: JaemLe

Half of NCT plays a saranghae game, everyone desperately trying to outlast the Kings of Gay. Chenle uses this opportunity to make Jaemin jealous. 

 Chapter 11: JaemSung 

Welcome to SM High!  Jaemin is the king of the school; Jisung gets bullied for being himself. Jisung and Jaemin have a unique relationship. It's both flirting and dating but also not. Jaemin is always playing games with Jisung's heart, and Jisung is so sick of playing games. 

Chapter 12: Chenle x NCT Dream OT6

Being an idol is hard. Being a trainee? It might be even harder. Chenle has to navigate being a foreign trainee in a country he barely knows, in an complex industry. All while learning valuable things about himself and the meaning of love. 

Chapter 13: ChenJi

Jisung has a problem. He’s in love with his best friend and bandmate, Chenle. Chenle also has a problem, except he’s in love with Jisung, not himself. That would be weird. Both problems lead to entirely unhealthy breakdowns in the middle of the night, but it’s fine because they’re Chenji, and Chenji will always figure things out. 

Chapter 14: NoRenMin

 Jaemin had been to Neo City a thousand times and was on a first-name basis with every single person who worked in the club, and yet, the wonder never quite wore off. There was a special magic found in the neon green of their signature drink and in their dancers, music, and decor that just drew people in. Jaemin, like so many others, had lost large sums of money to both the bar and the dancers before he’d been lucky enough to score a date with not only their roguish bartender, but their most prized dancer as well. 

Rated: Mature (heavily implied sexual content, steamy makeout sessions) 

Chapter 15: Jaemin x NCT Dream

It’s a normal day in the Dream townhouse. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and the boys inside are surviving quarantine the best way they know how. Or, in other words, Jeno is hungry, Donghyuck is sassy, Renjun is unforgiving, Chenle is loud, Jisung is sweet, and Mark is running around with an electric flyswatter. And Jaemin? Jaemin is the one tasked with dealing with the six idiots that he calls his boyfriends.

Chapter 16: RenMin

Jaemin first starts coming to the roller rink because skating intrigued him, but he ends up staying because of the cute referee. Renjun is a thousand things and simple isn’t one of them, but what happens when Jaemin lets an old injury come back to haunt him? He’s afraid that things are going to change, but really, he should have known better. 

Chapter 17: ChenJi

They were pretty prone to being weirdly back-and-forth: Chenle pushing and pushing until Jisung snapped; Chenle being pushed and pushed until Jisung helped mend the snap.

Or, Chenle and Jisung are stuck in an endless loop of sweetness and sourness, old friendship and mutual acquaintanceship bleeding into harsh words and mean actions. But Chenle’s wanted Jisung at his side for a long time now, and while it can be confusing sometimes, the omega’s not quite ready to give up.

He’ll have his sweet and sour candy. And he’ll eat it too, tsunderes be damned.

Chapter 18: Farewell Letter 

Chapter Text

“Give it to me!”  

"No!"

“Give it!”

“No!”

“Goddammit, Na Jaemin! I swear if you don’t give it to me, right now !" Jeno shrieks, grabbing at Jaemin's outstretched arm, trying to get his textbook back.  

"That’s what you said last night," Jaemin teases, making Jeno blush as he slaps Jaemin’s arm repetitively in retaliation. He remembers all too well how needy he’d been, lying in their bed, hot and sweaty and begging for anything more than teasing touches. It’s stupid that Jaemin is bringing it up right now though because this has nothing to do with sex. 

"Pervert," Jeno retorts after a while of railing on Jaemin, face red, a flush painted across his cheekbones and dipping the tips of his ears in scarlet paint. It must have looked cute because Jeno can see the exact moment Jaemin gets distracted. 

"It’s a fact." An easy smirk slides back over his features and glitters insolently in his eyes, and it makes Jeno want to hit him and kiss him at the same time. Jaemin’s always been like this though, a peculiar mix of push and pull, give and receive. But when his tongue dips out of his mouth and swipes across his lips in the lewdest way imaginable, good lord, Jeno decides, he chose to date an insufferable man. 

"Just give me the fucking book, Nana." He crooks his fingers impatiently and waves his hands around insistently to try to convey a semblance of how important it is for him to have the textbook back. He’s gonna have a test on the history of advanced modern warfare tomorrow, and Jeno hasn’t studied a lick prior. Hopefully, five hours of non-stop cramming will be enough. 

“I said no!" Jaemin is grinning even more impishly, in that elvish way that makes him look ethereal as hell, holding the book above Jeno's head. Of course, he’s already standing on the couch with one hand pressed to Jeno’s forehead, so it’s not as if the playing field was level to begin with. 

"I need to study!" Jeno protests, trying to climb up his boyfriend like a tree. Curse slender and muscular boyfriends with abnormally long legs! "And I need my cuddles," Jaemin replies, stubbornly, unrelenting as Jeno wraps himself around his ankles with his hands and legs both, staring up at him with a petulant pout. He looks adorable and squishable, eyes wide, not hidden behind glasses lenses. There are no curved crescent moons in them, however, only simmering exasperation greeting Jaemin. He gulps.  

“If I don’t pass this test, you're never getting your cuddles ever again," Jeno threatened, bouncing up and down on Jaemin, his ass bony and uncomfortable against the tops of his bare feet. The pain and the threat are enough to spur Jaemin into action, and he hands his boyfriend the book instantly.

"Go pass the test, shoo, bye Jen." 

“You’re unbelievable.” 

One week later, all is silent in the Na/Lee apartment, and Jaemin is being lazy, sprawled out on Jeno’s side of the bed in their room, hair wet from a shower and one of Jeno’s old hoodies thrown on to cover himself. It’s oversized on Jeno, who is considerably bulkier than Jaemin himself, and it swallows the younger man, covering him down to his mid-thighs. He spends his time waiting for Jeno to get back from an afternoon lecture playing a video game mindlessly on his phone. He’s about to finish a fifth level when he feels it plucked out of his hands and hears the tell-tale sad progression of the 8-bit melody that announces the death of his character. 

"Dammit, I hate you, Jeno." He groans, staring up at his smirking boyfriend, who’s eyeing him with a self-satisfied expression. He looks like one of his family’s cats after he’s caught a mouse, and Jaemin wonders if he’d purr if he offered to pet his hair. “What was that for?” He asks, instead, sitting up and pulling his knees up to his chest. 

“Fun.” Jeno pokes his cheek once, lightly, before ducking into the bathroom to take out his contacts and put on his glasses, eyes tired and dry. Jaemin watches him go with a scowl, the fact that Jeno kept his phone not escaping his notice. His eyes narrow as he wonders what game his boyfriend is playing. 

“I’m not giving it to you," Jeno announces when he comes back in, face washed and bespectacled, crawling onto the bed beside Jaemin. He wraps an arm around his waist and sighs contentedly. 

"Is this seriously about the textbook?" Jaemin asks incredulously, sitting up in Jeno’s embrace, his boyfriend’s arm falling to rest across the tops of his thighs. 

"So what if it is?" Jeno huffs, clutching Jaemin's phone to his chest with his free arm as the younger tries to extricate it from his death grip. 

"You’re so petty." Jaemin laughs between hiccups, still trying to wedge his fingertips under Jeno’s palm, doing everything and anything to get some leverage.

"Maybe add an 'r' to that," Jeno replies sweetly, grinning innocently up at him with moon eyes that melt Jaemin into a puddle of goo. 

“Yeah, you’re pretty too, Jen,” he muses, almost as if in a trance until Jeno smirks and he realizes that it was a ploy all along. “Why are you so sexy when you’re scamming me,” he whines. “Give me the damn phone back,” he gripes a second later, sending his boyfriend a lovingly exasperated look. 

"I don’t want to." Well played, Jaemin thinks, as Jeno juts out his bottom lip and lets it wobble a little, manipulative to a fault when there’s something he wants. 

"Please, baby?" Jaemin's voice drops an octave, lips brushing Jeno's ear, playing the only card he has left in his deck. Go big or go home, he supposes. 

Jeno shivers, and it pulls a Cheshire smile across Jaemin’s lips, dipping into the crook of Jeno’s neck and pressing a feathery light kiss to the sensitive skin there. He can feel Jeno trembling, body shaking with whatever it is he’s suppressing. It’s hot. 

But it’s not enough. 

"No," Jeno retorts, curling up into a ball on their bed, his boyfriend's phone tucked securely under his stomach. 

Jaemin rolls him over easily and starts tickling his sides, fingers sliding up and down the expanse of Jeno's hoodie, and he dodges the thrashing limbs and calculated elbow-throws with practised ease. "Hand it over!" 

Jeno continues to writhe around, giggling uncontrollably as Jaemin's attacks increase in frequency and move to his thighs and kneecaps. "N-no—stop—s-stop it!" He cries, trying to simultaneously shy away from Jaemin’s evil hands and keep the phone away from his boyfriend. Jaemin admires his efforts, but there’s no way he’s giving in this easily. It’s not even about his phone anymore, more about wringing those infectious giggles out of Jeno and getting the upper hand. 

“Surrender, Jeno!” Jaemin crows, sliding his cold hands under the older’s hoodie and feeling his toned stomach seize from the temperature change, Jeno whining low in his throat. 

“You are fucking freezing .” 

“I know!” Jaemin chirps, stealing a kiss from Jeno’s lips and holding back a smile when he kisses back. It’s obvious neither of them are trying all too hard, but both of them are stubborn to a fault. There’s only going to be one winner. “Give my phone back, and I’ll stop freezing you.” He made a half-hearted grab for the phone, taking one hand out of Jeno’s shirt. 

“No!” Jeno protests as Jaemin manages to get both his hands on the phone, trying to pry it away from him, tugging at the corners of the device as Jeno presses down with his whole body and tries to effectively crush Jaemin’s hand exactly where it is. Unfortunately for him, Jaemin just uses the positioning to tickle his boyfriend’s waist with a few fingers, trailing teasing little touches along the top of his pants. 

“Stop—don’t—stop!” Jeno yells, breathless, as Jaemin’s teasing picks up and the phone inches out further from under him. 

“Don’t stop? Okay!” Jaemin sits back on his haunches, admiring Jeno sprawled out under him. His raven hair is wonderfully tousled, and his glasses are skewed enough that Jaemin gently removes them from his face before they can get broken and injury him. However, his lapse in tickling allows Jeno to shove the phone in his back pocket before flipping them over and sitting on top of Jaemin, straddling his hips, hands planted firmly on his chest. 

 “Ha!” Jeno yells, lightly punching his chest triumphantly. From their new position, Jaemin can see the flush on his cheeks from laughing from satisfaction. “Why do you even want your phone back?” He asks curiously before his expression turns into a more devious one and his position on top of Jaemin shifts ever so slightly.“There’s a lot of things other than using it that you could do.” 

Jaemin crooks an inquiring eyebrow at him, smirking from underneath him. He knows what he wants, but he wants Jeno to say it because it’s entertaining and freaking cute. Jeno blushes deeper than Jaemin thought it was possible for someone to blush and punches his chest lightly.

“Why am I even dating you?” Jeno moans despairingly. Jaemin is more focused on getting them in a very different position. They can discuss how their relationship came about another time. 

“Because I’m hot and you love me.” Jaemin grabs Jeno’s hips, managing to roll him off of himself and changes their positions using the extra momentum, the room swirling into a blend of colours before they’re settling into the mattress again. He pins Jeno’s hands down once again, crawling on top of him to straddle his hips how his boyfriend had held him in place and grins. Jaemin leans down so his lips brushed Jeno’s ear. “Give me my phone back, Jeno,” He whispers in a way he hopes sounds seductively demanding. He’s still a little out of his depth when it comes to pulling Jeno apart with only words. “Don’t make me tickle you again.” 

“Try me,” Jeno replies bravely, but his eyes are blown and face sweaty. He looks radiant. 

Needless to say, Jeno loses the arbitrary fight rather quickly, but he does his best to go down respectably. 

Four hours later, what little natural light had filtered through the closed blinds in their room is replaced by the fluorescent glow of street bulbs as the city transitions from work to play. Jeno can’t read the clock on the end table without his glasses, but he figures it's past dinner time. 

Jeno wraps his arm tighter around Jaemin’s bare torso, adjusting his head on his boyfriend’s broad chest as he cuddles closer, wanting more warmth and more affection. 

“Awake already?” Jaemin rasps deliciously into his hair, brushing a kiss against his temple. 

Jeno hums thoughtfully but doesn’t dignify the tease with a response. He’s struck with the odd urge to purr as Jaemin’s slender fingers card through his sweat-plastered hair soothingly, but he thinks better of it. 

“I thought I’d tired you out enough,” The younger chuckles, continuing, and Jeno scoffs. His mind wasn’t blown that much. Yes, it was wild, but come on. They’ve done so much more. 

“Confident much?” Jeno tilts his head to look up at him, pressing a kiss to the mole that rests under his chin, hidden under his jaw above his Adam’s apple. There’s a little stubble that Jaemin missed while shaving, and it’s endearing. 

“Maybe.” Jaemin tugs his head up to press a kiss to Jeno’s lips, leisurely tasting them as they mould together and Jeno sinks into the kiss. “What were we even fighting over?” 

“Your phone,” Jeno reminds him, chuckling. He’d stolen it to spark a reaction and simply to be petty, but it turned out even better than he had hoped (tickle attack notwithstanding). 

“Right.” Jaemin smiles his beautiful, toothy smile. “This seems to be how all of our fights end, doesn’t it?” 

“Hm?” 

“With me winning.” He smirked at the older.

“You did not just say that, Na,” Jeno exclaims, sitting upright, the covers pooling at his hips. When Jaemin raises a challenging eyebrow, Jeno’s eyes narrow into slits. 

“Oh, it is so on now!” 

Chapter Text

    When Renjun woke up and felt a hot, burning sensation across his entire body, he frowned. Heat. He had been so sure that his wasn't going to come until the weekend, obsessively checking his calendar and avoiding touching Jaemin and Jeno. While he loved the beta and alpha dearly, he'd rather not have his heat be more intense, just because of a stray hug or kiss. 

   Renjun groaned, not wanting to move. He knew he was supposed to go to school today, what with it being a Thursday in all, but he just didn't want to move. Renjun had the option, sure, of skipping and just getting a pass from the office when he went back saying that he was in heat, but he hated using them as an excuse. There was already enough people trying to put down omegas as the lesser gender, he didn't need any reason to prove them right. Frowning, he rolled himself over, whimpering in relief as the sheets were cooler on the other side. 

   After some more grumbling and complaining, Renjun hauled himself out of bed, mindlessly going through the motions to get ready for school. Stumbling out of the house and onto the bus was fun, Renjun nearly tripping over his untied shoelaces. Once he was on the bus, shoes tied, he tipped his head back against the seat, rummaging in his backpack for his heat medication. 

   Contrary to popular belief, heats and ruts weren't purely craving knots and omegas; they were part clingy (for omegas) and protective (for alphas), but there just wasn't a mindless need to mate with someone. During heat, for omegas, it was always nice to have an alpha or beta's touch because it cooled them down and lessened the pain. However, if they were in contact with either of the other genders beforehand, their heats tended to be ten times more painful.  For alphas, ruts were mainly just being super aggressive, possessive, and irritable. Any omega that they were attached to was typically subject to their protective behavior. 

   Popping back his pills, Renjun sighed, already feeling the medicine start to take affect. Hopefully it would dull the fog enough to get him through the day. He sighed, impatient to get to his boyfriends so they could make him feel better. 

 ~

   Renjun had never been so grateful for lunch period in his life. His medicine just wasn't cutting it today. He felt clingy and needy and like absolute shit. He needed Nana to cuddle him and Jeno's kisses. When the pair showed up at the table, barely a minute after Renjun did, the omega literally whined, their pheromones calming him down nearly instantly. Jaemin apparently heard it and giggled, while Jeno just stiffened a little, smelling the heat all over the omega. 

   "Hey, Injoonnie," Jaemin cooed, wrapping his arms around the omega's waist. "You doing ok?" Renjun just sighed in relief, the throbbing pain in his ribs gone the instant Jaemin hugged him. He nodded into Jaemin's chest, unconsciously rubbing his cheek against the younger. 

   Jeno laughed. "Cute," he announced, before darting off to go grab lunch for the trio. When he came back, Renjun was practically in Jaemin's lap, a thick cloud of pheromones completely surrounding the pair. Had Jeno been anyone else, he would have choked on the sheer overwhelmingness of their scents and run far, far away. But Jeno wasn't anyone else, and they were his future mates, meaning Jeno wasn't going anywhere. 

   Jeno sat their trays down in front of them, kissing Jaemin's temple and the crown of Renjun's head. "Think you can make it through the rest of the day, Renjunie?" The oldest boy frowned, pouting cutely. 

   "I don't know," he huffed, looking up at him from his spot in Jaemin's arms. "I don't have any classes with you two, and there's still four hours left." His pout increased. 

   "Do you want us to take you home?" Jeno asked, sitting down next to his boyfriends. "You can go to the nurse and plead heat, so one of us can go with you." 

   Renjun's pout increased yet again. "But that's only one of you," he whined. "What if I want both of you?" 

   Jeno laughed. "I can't do anything about that, baobei," he placated, picking up a piece of gimbap and feeding it to his boyfriend. 

   Jaemin squeezed Renjun's waist. "Jen can go with you, and I'll come over later," he offered. "I have a test in math today, anyway." 

   Renjun pouted for a few more seconds before agreeing, crawling out of Jaemin's lap and into Jeno's. "I guess that works, " he mumbled. He was kind of annoyed with his omega because it was making him so clingy and needy, but he also knew that his boyfriends weren't going to judge him. In fact, he knew they liked it and that it puffed up their alpha egos, if their scents were anything to go by. 

   Jisung walked over to their table, the freshman listening to music through his treasured headphones. Smiling at them, he flipped them off his ears, before turning white. He very clearly sniffed the air, before stiffening and running away. On his way out, he pushed past Donghyuck, yelling, "Renjun-hyung's in heat!" Renjun attempted to melt into the table, face red, as his current state was broadcast to the entire cafeteria. 

   He knew Jisung was newly-presented as an alpha, so him running away from Renjun made sense. The younger alpha hadn't been around an omega in heat since presenting, so he wouldn't be nearly as good at controlling himself. Renjun was confident that, if left around him, Jisung wouldn't have done anything to hurt him anyway, but the sentiment was sweet. 

   Jaemin whistled, chuckling. "I guess Jisungie didn't want to be near you," he teased. "He must not like your personality." 

   Renjun frowned, whacking his boyfriend's arm. "Don't say that!" He protested. "I'm plenty likable, plus Sungie's one of my favorite dongsaengs." He paused. "And I'm in heat!"  Jaemin laughed. 

   "I know," he said, grinning. "I can smell it." 

   Jeno just sighed, sliding Renjun off his lap and wrapping an arm around his waist, before doing the same to Jaemin. "Play nice, children." 

~

  Checking out of school for heat was surprisingly easy. The nurse hadn't even batted an eye when Renjun announced that Jeno was coming with him to help him with it. She must not have been paying attention. 

   When they got to Renjun's house, Jeno immediately instructed him to go take a cold shower while he looked for something to eat. Renjun protested, but Jeno glared at him, in a rare streak of dominance. 

   "It'll make you feel better," he told Renjun, walking over and hugging him. "Now go do it." Renjun huffed a little, but he was secretly glad Jeno was taking care of him. 

   After his shower, Renjun flopped down on his bed, happily clad in one of Jaemin's oversized sweatshirts and Jeno's pajama bottoms, left in his bedroom for this exact reason. He basked in the breeze created by the ceiling fan. When Jeno walked in the room with a tub of ice cream, he shivered, shooting an incredulous look at Renjun. 

   "It's freezing cold in here, Renjun, what the hell?" He protested, crawling up onto the bed with the omega. Renjun just glared at him. 

   "Yeah well I'm in heat, dummy, and it feels great, so deal with it." Renjun happily took a spoon from Jeno's hand and dug into the matcha ice cream, moaning softly when the cold food cooled him down. Jeno audibly swallowed at that, but laid down next to Renjun, resting his head on the older's thigh. 

   "Are you sure you're feeling okay?" He fretted, tracing circles on the smaller's leg. 

   Renjun cooed at him, before smiling. "It's much better now." 

   Jeno wrapped his arm around his boyfriend's waist. "I wish Nana was here right now," he mumbled, scooting closer to Renjun, hoping to absorb his warmth. This bedroom really was fucking freezing, he thought. 

   "Me too," Renjun hummed, setting the ice cream on the end table before scooting down the bed to cuddle with Jeno. He gently picked up the other's hand, setting it on his hair and nudging it. He'd be damned if he was gonna make his request out loud. Jeno just laughed, sitting up and pulling Renjun's head into his lap, petting his hair gently. His earthy, rainwater scent blanketed Renjun, enveloping him in the scent of safety, the scent of Jeno. 

   Renjun sighed. This I could get used to, he thought, purring contentedly when Jeno petted his ear. His wolf side never seemed to go away, always liking ear pets, even outside of his wolf form. With Jeno's fingers carding softly through his hair, Renjun had a thought. 

  "Hey, Jen?" He asked softly, poking the beta's thigh. 

  "Yeah?"

  "How do you feel about becoming mates?" Renjun asked tentatively, scared of the rejection. He'd been dating Jeno and Jaemin for almost three years, and they were hopelessly in love, so he figured, why not mate? He knew that he'd never find two people other who could make his omega purr like this and submit without any reason other than the fact that he loved them. 

   He loved Jaemin, with his cuddly and flirty personality, always making everyone around him smile. His boyfriend was sweet and caring, but also fiercely protective and took great care of him. Renjun loved how after a bad day at school, Jaemin would cuddle him and kiss him until Renjun cheered up, cooking his favorite dishes and telling him how much he loved him. The alpha's unusual scent of mandarin oranges never failing to make him feel loved and cared for. 

   And then there was Jeno, the calmest and quietest member of the trio. Where Jaemin was all loud and bold affection, Jeno was quiet and stoic in his displays of love. He was always the first person to offer a lending ear when either of his boyfriends were upset, always the first one to pick up on something being wrong. He protected and cared for them quietly and sweetly, but never let them doubt how much he loved them. 

   Renjun loved both of them to pieces. 

   Jeno had frozen in shock, fingers stilling in Renjun's hair. The omega felt tears well up in his eyes. This is the part where he rejects me, he thought, lifting his head up to look into Jeno's eyes. Instead of hatred or disgust, though, Jeno's eyes were warm and loving. Renjun opened his mouth to speak, to retract his earlier statement and just brush it off, but before he could talk, his lips were sealed off by Jeno's. 

   The beta had leaned down to kiss him, his lips moving sweetly against Renjun's, eyes closed. Renjun stayed still for a second, before surging up to kiss Jeno back, teeth catching on his bottom lip. Jeno groaned softly, picking Renjun up and pulling him up towards him, changing the angle of their kiss. After a few more minutes, Jeno broke away, resting his forehead against Renjun's. 

   "Of course I want to be your mate," he murmured against his boyfriend's lips. "Of course," he mumbled, kissing Renjun again. The omega once again melted under his touch, threading his fingers into the beta's hair, letting Jeno lay on top of him, lost in the intoxicating kisses. 

   They were interrupted by the door to Renjun's bedroom banging open. "I'm back~", Jaemin announced, grinning broadly, before halting in his tracks at the scene before him. Jeno's hair was sticking up in every which direction from Renjun's hands, while the omega, himself, looked positively debauched. 

   Renjun broke away from Jeno to look at Jaemin. "Come here, Nana," he whined, voice high and needy. Jaemin didn't need any more prompting. The youngest of the trio quickly joined in, Jeno letting him take over kissing Renjun, while the beta just petting his hair. Renjun whimpered when Jaemin nibbled on his lip, sharp canines bruising the soft flesh. The action reminded Renjun of something, and the oldest pulled away, Jaemin chasing after his lips. 

  "Nana?" Renjun asked, looking up at the boy hovering above him. 

  "That's my name," He teased, grinning impishly. Renjun looked over at Jeno, seeing if the beta was on the same page as him. Jeno just nodded, smiling faintly. 

   "Would you want to be mates with Jeno and I?" He asked. Jaemin looked shocked for a split second, before squealing really loudly. 

    "Are you serious?" He shrieked. "Of course I want to mate you two!" The alpha was bouncing up and down, looking absolutely adorable. 

    "Let's do it then," Jeno said softly, leaning down to kiss both of them in turn. 

   Renjun settled back into the sheets, his neck throbbing in anticipation. Soon, he thought, it would be marked with the claims of his boyfriends. His mates. 

   Jeno nosed around Renjun's scent gland, finger stroking his cheekbone absently. When he found a place he liked, he nuzzled it, murmuring, "Are you sure you want to do this?" 

   Renjun fucking whined. "Just do it!" Okay, so maybe his omega was making him needy, sue him. Jeno bit down gently, groaning softly, while Renjun's heart exploded. All of a sudden, Jeno's scent was stronger, more potent, and his love for Renjun and Jaemin was palpable in the air. Renjun tucked his head into Jeno's neck, too, picking his spot much faster than the beta had, before biting down too. After it was done, Jeno pulled back, licking his lips and smiling. 

   "My mate," he murmured affectionately, petting Renjun's hair as he changed places with Jaemin. The youngest smiled down at Renjun, before studying the bite Jeno had left there, fingertips brushing over it. Renjun whimpered, the flesh super sensitive, making his whole body heat up. Jaemin kissed his neck, right below Jeno's bite, before placing his own. Renjun had quickly placed his claim on Jaemin, wanting to be fully mated to his boyfriends as fast as possible. His omega purred the entire time, as his lemon-drop scent became interlaced with mandarin oranges and petrichor. 

   Renjun felt whole, as Jaemin pulled back. His boyfriends- no, mates- were looking down at him with the softest looks on their faces, their scents twining in with Renjun's. When Jaemin turned to kiss Jeno, ready to give him his own mating mark, Renjun smiled. 

   When all the claims had been made, Renjun found himself sandwiched between his mates, Jaemin's arms tucked securely around his waist, while Jeno's long arms stretched over both of them. Listening to the sounds of their soft breathing and inhaling his lemony scent mixed in with theirs, Renjun smiled. 

   This is what paradise feels like, he decided. 

Chapter Text

    Jaemin rolled out of bed at ass-o’clock in the morning, ready to practice the choreography for their upcoming comeback. He was still eternally grateful that SM had let him remain in NCT, even after the issue with his back. It had been absolute torture to miss out on The First, especially when it became NCT as a whole’s first music show win. But Jaemin digresses. It could have been so much worse. He could have been kicked out and had to watch Jeno, Renjun, Chenle, Donghyuck, Mark, and Jisung perform together without him, until all of them graduated. He could have to watch his friends become full-fledged idols in their own right without him. 

    He stumbled into the kitchen, hair ruffled, clad in a white t-shirt and black skinny jeans, a fact that never ceased to amaze the other members. “Why would you willingly go to a dance practice in skinny jeans?”, Taeil had asked, ever the one to enjoy comfort when he could. Jaemin had told him that he might as well get used to rehearsing difficult choreo in restricting clothes. Taeil had just laughed. Rounding the corner of the kitchen counter, Jaemin was met with a sight of Taeyong stand at the stove cooking them breakfast. 

   “Hey, Jaemin,” the leader chirped cheerfully, walking over to ruffle his hair. Jaemin frowned mentally. Morning people.  “How’d you sleep?”

   “I slept great, hyung,” Jaemin replied on autopilot, before actually thinking about it for a second. “Well, no. I got really hot.” 

   Taeyong’s brows instantly furrowed, the leader slipping into his mom-mode. “What? Did you check for a fever yet?” He fretted, tugging Jaemin toward him to feel his forehead. Frowning when he couldn’t get a read on it, he leaned forward and kissed Jaemin’s forehead, making Jaemin blush. Only his mom did that when he was sick. 

   Taeyong mistook the blush for a flush to his skin and the furrow between his brows increased. “You feel hot,” he announced. “Let me get the thermometer.” He rushed to the dorm’s bathroom, passing Donghyuck. 

   “What’s he all worried about?” Donghyuck groaned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Jaemin nodded to himself. Now, Donghyuck, he was an anti-morning person, just like himself. 

   “Hyung thinks I have a fever.” 

   Donghyuck frowned too. “Do you?” He moved to check Jaemin’s temperature. 

   Jaemin glared at him, backing away. “Don’t touch me,” he pouted. “I’m fine.” 

   Donghyuck frowned again. God, Jaemin thought, would everyone stop frowning at me this morning? “You’re not fine,”Donghyuck announced, decidedly, as a loud crash came from the bathroom. 

   “Why?” Jaemin asked, as Jaehyun stumbled out of his and Taeyong’s shared room. 

   “You didn’t want me to touch you. You love being touched.” 

   “What happened?” Jaehyun asked, a slightly panicked look on his face. “I heard a crash.” 

   “Taeyong hyung’s digging through the bathroom for the thermometer,” Jaemin supplied helpfully. Jaehyun groaned. 

   “I knew we should have organized that cabinet,” he muttered, running to go check on his boyfriend. 

    Jaemin turned back to Donghyuck. “Maybe I just didn’t want to be touched,” he told the other boy, bringing their previous conversation back up. 

    Donghyuck snorted, as Jaehyun walked back into the kitchen, tugging Taeyong with him, the later armed with the thermometer, a determined look on his face. “Yeah right,” he said, before taking over Taeyong’s place at the stove, trying to salvage the eggs the older had been making. 

    Taeyong gently tugged Jaemin over, before instructing him to hold still. The red-haired boy stuck the thermometer in Jaemin’s ear, making a face when it beeped to show his temperature. 37.2°C, the device read. (99° F)

    “That’s a fever,” the leader announced, making Jaemin groaned. 

    “It’s actually not, hyung,” he told him. “That’s my average temp, believe it or not.” 

   When Taeyong frowned, Jaemin panicked, searching his brain for a way to make the older believe him. There was no way he was missing the first dance practice for his first comeback since Chewing Gum. He’d been cooped up and hidden from the NCTzens for way too long. 

“Donghyuck, tell him!” 

   Donghyuck turned away from the stove and hummed. “Sorry, Nana, but I can’t help you. Ask Jeno.” 

   “Speak of the devil and he shall appear” was the saying, but right now, Jeno was Jaemin’s angel. He ran up to his best friend, for once, actually grateful for a morning person. 

    “Jeno, tell Taeyong hyung that my average temperature is 37.2° please, “ he begged, grabbing his arm and clinging to it. 

   Jeno looked confused, but nodded. “Yeah he’s right,” he told Taeyong, eyes curving up into crescents as he smiled. “Jaemin’s always hot. He makes a great heater when it’s cold out.” 

    Taeyong frowned again, but nodded, conceding their point. “Okay, fine.” He leaned into Jaehyun when the younger wrapped an arm around his waist. “But if you start to feel bad, stop dancing, do you hear me?” 

   Jaemin beamed at the older boy. “Of course I will!” 

~

    The preparations for Go were amazing, Jaemin decided. He had forgotten what it felt like to dance until he was soaked in sweat, what it felt like to sing along to the track, to make the formations with his members. He might have been scouted through his volunteer work, but now, being an idol was a fundamental part of him. 

    He was so invested in the choreography that when they paused to take a break, he realized just how hot he was. So hot that it was nearly overwhelming. Frowning, Jaemin decided that it was probably because he hadn’t danced in a while, and just drank more of his water. 

   Once they picked back up with the choreography, though, Jaemin began to realize that it wasn’t the dancing making him hot. His head was starting to hurt and his limbs felt heavy. However, Jaemin didn’t want to hold everyone else back, so he just pushed through it. It’ll pass, he thought. 

    It didn’t pass.

    The more and more they practiced, Jaemin started to get hotter and hotter, his limbs getting heavier and heavier. The world was starting to spin around him, and his head felt like it was splitting in half. 

   “You okay, Nana?” Chenle asked, noticing that the older boy was oddly silent and dazed-looking. 

    “I’m fine, Lele,” Jaemin grimaced out a smile. The younger frowned but nodded. Dance practice resumed. Throughout the next few run throughs, Jaemin caught the other members studying him worriedly, Jeno and Donghyuck looking the most worried out of all of them. Of course they would be, he thought deliriously. They know that you’re close to running a fever. 

   Jaemin kept pressing on, thankful when the choreographer announced that they’d be done in an hour. His ear was starting to feel weird, the right side of his head feeling stuffed with cotton. Jaemin grimaced, shaking it out, trying to make the stuffy feeling subside. Jeno met his eyes as they danced and raised an eyebrow at him, Jaemin shrugged off his concern, as they dropped to the floor right before Mark’s rap. 

    Renjun and Jeno’s part towards the end, where they dropped down to the ground, made Jaemin’s body absolutely ache. Still, he managed to pull it off. When the world started to glow, though, Jaemin knew he was in trouble. 

   “Jisung,” he mumbled, as the maknae got into position behind him, lips barely forming the youngest boy’s name. “I’m gonna-”, he managed, before collapsing backwards into someone’s arms. 

~

    When Jaemin came to, he was in his own bed at the dorm, clad in only a pair of boxers, being stared at by all the members of 127 and Dream, plus Kun, Lucas and Ten. So, basically, the whole of NCT 2018. He was kind of impressed that they all managed to fit into his and Chenle’s room. 

   “Hi,” he mumbled, tugging the covers up to his nose and hiding under them, as Taeyong fixed him with a glare. His eyes roved over the faces of his family, noting the various expressions. There was concern (Sicheng, Taeil, Yuta, Jungwoo, Johnny, Jaehyun, Lucas, and Jeno), fear (Chenle and Jisung), worry (Mark, Doyoung, Taeyong, and Kun), relief (Ten), and annoyance/anger (Taeyong, Donghyuck, and Renjun). 

   “You are an absolute idiot,” Donghyuck huffed, slapping his knee, the only part of Jaemin that he could reach. There were a few chuckles and some of the members agreed. 

    Taeyong frowned at him. Jaemin frowned right back. He felt bad for putting unnecessary stress on the leader, but if Taeyong frowned any harder, he was going to get wrinkle lines. Jaemin almost laughed at the thought. 

    “I told you to stop if you didn’t feel good,” Taeyong said mildly, looking for all the world like he was super calm, while Jaemin knew that, inside, he was fuming. 

    “I’m sorry, hyung…” Jaemin muttered, shrinking down further in his bed. His foot bumped Taeil’s knee, who just smiled down at him. 

   “You had a fever of 39°C (102.2°F),” Donghyuck interjected, still looking pissed. 

    “You’re supposed to be making a comeback, nice and healthy. Not dying from sickness,” Chenle piped up from next to their shared end table, Jisung’s arms wrapped around his waist, his head propped up on his shoulder. The maknae nodded, making a face at Jaemin. 

     “Yeah,” he muttered, voice low. “I had to catch you when you fainted. You didn’t even give me a warning, just muttered deliriously.” 

    “Stupid Nana,” Renjun muttered, the smaller boy reaching around Kun’s body to whack Jaemin upside the head. “Don’t scare us like that!” He pouted. When Jaemin let out a pitiful wail, Taeyong and Doyoung frowned at Renjun. 

    “Did you have to hit him?” Doyoung asked the boy, frowning. “He’s still sick, Renjun!” 

     Renjun pouted at them. “I feel no regret.” Jaemin was only mildly offended when Donghyuck gave Renjun a high five. 

     Mark frowned too. God, what is it with everyone frowning at me today?! “Well, anyway,” the (unofficial) leader of NCT Dream mumbled, running a hand through his hair, “We’ll let you alone to recover a little. U’s got a schedule in an hour regarding Boss for the new album, so I gotta run.” He reached through the tangle of bodies to pat Jaemin’s shin. “Get better soon, Jaemin.”       Slowly but surely, the other U members trickled out, leaving Jaemin with Ten, Kun, Taeil, Johnny, Yuta, and the rest of the dreamies. 

     Once a majority of the other older members were gone, Ten, Johnny and Kun fussed over Jaemin some, asking if he needed water or painkillers for his headache or something. Anything, really. Jaemin managed to convince them that no, he didn’t need anything, yes water and painkillers would be wonderful, before they took their leave, hugging him before they left.  Yuta just watched, looking mildly uncomfortable without any of the hyungs around. Jaemin didn’t know the older all that well, but he knew that Yuta was a pretty nice guy and a wicked dancer.    

     After looking like he struggled with it for a while, Yuta walked over to Jaemin, ruffling his hair and giving him a fist bump. “Hope you feel better soon, kiddo,” he murmured, before walking out and closing the door. Jaemin smiled. NCT really was like a family. 

    “Idiot,” Renjun hissed again, now that it was just the dreamies left. “Idiot, idiot, idiot.” He plopped down next to Jaemin’s knees. 

    “Yup,” Jaemin agreed, settling back into his pillows. Now that the older members were gone, he didn’t have to keep up his front. Jaemin was exhausted. 

    “Asshole,” Donghyuck added, before curling up next to him on the bed. Jaemin just chuckled, ruffling his hair. 

    “You love me, Hyuckie.” 

    “Unfortunately.” Jaemin just laughed again, looking up at the other members. Jeno looked like he was itching to touch him, to check on him, to take care of him, while Chenle and Jisung still looked worried. 

    “Come here, guys,” Jaemin murmured, opening his arms. Chenle dove onto him, curling up on his other side, throwing an arm over Jaemin’s waist. Donghyuck smiled, before getting up and letting Jeno take his place next to Jaemin, instead, moving to sit next to Renjun, while Jisung just stared awkwardly at all of them. 

    “Coming, Sungie?” Jisung smiled a little, before sitting up by the headboard, fingers playing with Jaemin and Chenle’s hair. In no time, Jaemin felt himself nodding off, surrounded by his best friends. 

~

Two months later 

BREAKING NEWS

Na Jaemin returns to NCT Dream in their upcoming album, Empathy

     NCT Dream is the third subunit of NCT, an acronym for Neo Culture Technology. NCT is managed by SM Entertainment and has 18 members, as of January 2018. The group's concept revolves around having an unlimited number of members, from all over the world, meaning that new idols can debut with them constantly. Their name means that they are always working on music that is "yet to come".

     Currently, the group consists of members, Taeyong, Taeil, Johnny, Yuta, WinWin, Ten, Doyoung, Jaehyun, Chenle, Jisung, Jaemin, Jeno, Renjun, Haechan, Mark, Lucas, Jungwoo, and Kun, the last three being the newest additions to the group.   Mark, Jisung, Jaemin, Jeno, Renjun, Haechan, and Chenle are all members of NCT Dream, a rotational unit for members under 19, who graduate once they hit that age. 

     On March 4, 2018, Jaemin debuted with the rest of NCT Dream, for the first time since Chewing Gum. The teenage boy group's new song, GO, features a much more mature concept than their original songs, with heavy-hitting rap verses and expressive choreography.

         Fans were delighted to see the rapper back with the group, after his year long hiatus due to a herniated disk in his spine. When we interviewed the young idol about his road to recovery, he just said, “It was hard. I missed my members and the fans a lot. I had a day where I worked so hard I collapsed. But I’m doing so much better now, and I’m truly excited to show our fans how much I’ve improved since our debut! Saranghaeyo czennies!” 

 We look forward to seeing what NCT will do next! 

Chapter Text

    Jisung stared at the wall. He was so done with now. Ever since their last comeback, he just didn't feel like functioning. Chenle and Jeno were the only people keeping him moving. Donghyuck was pissed at him for giving up, and Renjun was slowly getting there too. Jaemin, ever the mom, did his best to stay out of it, keeping the peace between all of his boyfriends. 

   Jisung just didn’t know what to do. He loved all of his boyfriends dearly. They were his members, first, then his best friends, and now, his favorite people on the planet. Jisung loves promoting with them and being with them. His only problem? NCT Dream was a rotation unit. Meaning, everyone was going to leave him.

    He’d tried really hard not to react when Mark left. On the outside, he somewhat pulled it off. On the inside? His heart started breaking. Granted, he hadn’t been dating Mark (gross, ew no, Mark was forever a dad),  but losing their unofficial leader hurt, and it hurt like hell.

   People liked to say that hearts couldn’t actually break. Jisung begged to differ. He’d felt it in himself, like someone just tore a big chunk of what made him Park Jisung and just thrown it away. He’d seen it in Donghyuck, who refused to leave his room, for anything other than promotions, for two months.    

   Now that 2019 had creeped up on him, Jisung couldn’t help but feel that same terror again. Renjun, Jeno, Donghyuck, and Jaemin would graduate. All four members of the 00 Line. Four of his boyfriends. He and Chenle would be alone, before, the next year, when Chenle would leave him too. 

   Then he’d truly be alone. Left to be the hyung to the new dreamies. And it scared him. 

   Every member of NCT knew that SM was far from the kindest record label. But all of them had signed anyway, the chance to achieve their dreams too great. Why would you give up your dream, just for the tiny, rumored chance of not being treated the best? It was a rumor, after all, wasn’t it? 

   Jisung could attest that they weren’t just rumors. 

    Renjun, Johnny, Lucas, Ten, Kun, even Yuta, and Sicheng had been treated badly by SM. Renjun was told off on a Vlive for mentioning WinWin, Sicheng’s stage name. He’d also been left in the rain and told off for talking about a vacation he took once. Johnny trained for years, as did Kun, but never got any lines. Kun, didn’t even properly debut in NCT 2018, he just appeared. Once. Jisung was happy that the older had been given the position of leader of WayV, even if it wasn’t quite how he’d wanted. Same thing for Ten. Occasionally, he got solo songs or maybe even his duet with Taeyong, a few years ago. Yuta was in the same position as Johnny, barely getting lines, and he was rather vocal about it. And finally, Sicheng. Sicheng never got any lines, even when he was shipped off to China to be part of WayV. And, when SM moved him to WayV, they never even addressed why he left NCT 127's promotions. 

   Speaking of which, the whole of NCT was not happy with the creation of WayV. It had been in the works for years, but, once executed, they just didn’t quite hold the standards. They had started a group during a time of tension between China and Korea, when kpop was beyond frowned upon. The idols sent to WayV from Seoul were unlikely to come back to promote with the rest of NCT ever again.  Kun, Ten, Yukhei, and Sicheng had been sent there. Kun, Yukhei, and Sicheng has been glad to be back in their homeland, but being separated from the rest of NCT was weird for them. And Ten’s Chinese was somewhat of a work in progress for the Thai idol. And the sad thing was: not one of them said a single word against the decision. Not even to the other members. They just packed their bags and said their goodbyes. 

    It made Jisung mad, that SM used them as toys. It also scared him, the existence of WayV. He knew YangYang, Kunhang, and Dejun a little. He’d met them once. But it wasn’t the actual members he was scared of; it was the prospect of SM sending Renjun to them once he graduated from Dream and, later, Chenle, too. Being separated from his boyfriends was something that he just couldn’t handle. It physically hurt when Donghyuck had to leave them to promote with 127. 

    The fact that all of them were powerless to whatever SM wanted them to do was scary at first. But now? It was just a fact of life. Anything the company wanted them to do, they did. 

    Part of Jisung knew that the dreamies were some of the most popular members in NCT and that SM would be facing a lot of backlash from the fans if they fully spilt them up. He and Jaemin has read through the comments on Candlelight, once, and saw hundreds of fans lamenting Mark’s graduation and pleading for SM to make a fixed lineup of a different unit with the “1st Generation of NCT Dream”.  

    Jisung and Renjun has discussed it once, the chances of being kept together. Renjun believed that it was possible, but he also acknowledged that SM also didn’t make the best decisions regarding the members’ wishes. It was just as likely for them to keep them together, as it was for them to rip them apart. 

    This train of thought was what kept Jisung metaphorically chained to his bed. Half of him wanted to cuddle with Jaemin and Chenle, talk with Jeno, listen to Donghyuck’s newest rant, or just relax with Renjun, to do nothing but enjoy the time left with them. The other half of him wanted to scream and cry and never leave his bed, so he’d never have to see them again and think about losing them. 

   It was easier this way, he told himself. You don’t have to spend time with them outside of promotions. They won’t have to miss you when they leave and, you won’t have to pine after them. It’s the best solution. It’s the only solution.  

    Jeno poked his head into Jisung’s room, once he was sure the younger boy was asleep. All of them were worried about him. They’d had shifts to watch over him, both during the day and at night. Today was Jeno’s day. 

    We Boom was a nice album. They had all enjoyed filming it and recording it. It was a more mature concept, to showcase Jaemin, Donghyuck, Renjun, and his talents and maturity before they graduated. They had even gotten to invent characters for the Boom music video, which was sort of fun. 

   Renjun has been first to realize what was making Jisung close himself off. When he had told them, it had been so glaringly obvious that the rest of them couldn’t believe they’d missed it.    

    They had all known that Dream was both a blessing and a curse for them. They had met and fallen in love with each other, had achieved their dreams, but they would also have to be split up when they came of age.  Jeno knew that Chenle has somewhat accepted that and was enjoying his time with them, just in case he wouldn’t get it often later.

    WayV has always been at the back of their minds, too. But Renjun has assured them that he would never let them alone for too long. He’d video chat and write letters and come visit as much as he could, if WayV would be his new unit. Jeno wasn’t too worried. The six of them had an unbreakable bond. They’d be okay.  

    But, Jisung wasn’t taking it as well as Chenle. Jeno couldn’t fault him for it; if he’d been the Maknae of a rotating group, he’d be devastated when they left, let alone if he was dating all of them.

   Jeno walked over to sit on the edge of Jisung’s bed, up by the head board, to look at his boyfriend’s face, sweet and calm with sleep.  

    “We’re gonna be okay, Sungie,” he murmured, cautiously touching Jisung’s hair, moving a stray lock off his forehead. 

   “How long have you guys been checking on me?” came Jisung’s voice, scratchy and deep from sleep. Jeno took a moment to marvel at how grown up he’d gotten, before replying. 

   “Two weeks, I think,” he replied, starting to play with Jisung’s hair. “When did you catch us?” 

   “Yesterday.” That would have been Donghyuck’s shift. 

    “Oh.” They sat in silence, Jisung’s eyes still closed. 

    “Hyung?” Jisung asked softly. 

    “Yeah?” 

    “Promise you won’t desert Lele and I when you graduate?” 

    “Of course we won’t!” Jeno protested, voice raising a little. “We’d never leave you two behind, we love you both too much for that.” 

   “Promise.” Jisung voice cracked, despite the stubbornness lacing the word. 

   “I promise,” Jaemin’s voice announced solemnly from the doorframe. “Can I come in, Sungie?” 

   “Yeah,” Jisung curled up further in his covers. Jeno wished there was something he could do for his boyfriend. He’d do anything, if it would make him feel better. 

    “Us too?” Renjun asked, standing just behind Jaemin, Donghyuck right next to him. 

   “Sure.” Jisung’s eyebrows scrunched together, making Jeno figure he was frowning. 

   “Hey, baby,” Jaemin murmured, crawling onto the bed above Jisung and gently lifting his head into his lap. Donghyuck and Renjun settled down around the trio, Renjun next to Jeno and Donghyuck near the foot of the bed. 

   “What’s wrong?” Donghyuck’s voice was soft, his tone worried. Jeno smiled internally. The sweet, caring, loving side of Donghyuck didn’t show too often, the side without the quips and senseless bickering. He was happy that the younger had used it because the sound of his voice made Jisung pull the covers down to his ribs. An improvement. 

    “I don’t want to lose you guys,” Jisung muttered, clenching his eyes shut, turning away from all of them. “I don’t want to be alone.” 

    Renjun’s fingers grasped for the maknae’s, thumb soothing over the back of his hand. “I know you’re scared,” he said, eyes warm, “but we’ll never truly leave you.” That was when Jisung lost it, babbling every horrible thought that has crossed his mind in the past two weeks, spilling all of his worries and insecurities to his boyfriends. 

      When he was done, all of his horrors exposed to his members, Jisung curled up in the bed and slept. He slept for two whole days. 

    When he woke up, Chenle was sitting next to him, just staring at him, not touching him. 

    "Hi Lele," He mumbled, wiping the sleep out of his eyes. 

    "I'm sorry." 

    "For what?" Jisung studied his best friend. 

    "Leaving you to do this alone." Tears shone in Chenle's eyes. "I didn't even know what you were going through." 

    "I didn't want to tell anyone. So it's not your fault, Lele." Jisung studied his tired eyes. "I'm sorry for putting you guys through this." 

    "You can always come talk to us," Chenle mumbled, his hand hovering just over Jisung's hair, looking as if he wanted to touch him.  Jisung pulled his hand down onto his hair. 

   "I was scared."

   "That's okay." Chenle petted him. "Just don't be afraid to talk to us. Being afraid of other things is fine, sure, but please don't ever be afraid of us, Ji." 

   " I wasn't."

   "Good." Chenle smiled down at him. 

   "Hold me, Lele?" Jisung asked softly, scooting over on his bed. Chenle laid down next to him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders, tucking Jisung's head into his chest. Jisung's arms slid around the other boy's waist while the older twined their legs together. He placed a kiss on Jisung's temple, lips warm and soft.

   "I love you," Jisung mumbled, not daring to look up at Chenle's face.

    "I love you too, Ji," Chenle replied, kissing his head again. Jisung cuddled himself into Chenle's chest, feeling safe and warm for the first time in weeks. Maybe it'll be okay after all, he thought. 

   When Renjun poked his head into Jisung's room and saw him and Chenle curled up together, asleep on the bed, he smiled.  Donghyuck's arms looped around his waist, his head resting on the shorter's shoulder. 

    "Do you think he's gonna be alright?" Donghyuck asked, pressing a kiss the side of Renjun's neck. 

    "It might take some time," Renjun replied, melting into his boyfriend's touch. "But I think he'll be okay, Hyuck. I think we'll all be okay." 

    "I hope you're right." 

    "I'm always right." 

Chapter Text

   Jaemin didn’t like to talk to people. People were complicated. If there were too many people around, it became way too overwhelming for him. As a rule, Jaemin was pretty shy. He wasn’t going to seek people out and talk to them, instead, preferring to stay in his room, binge watching K-Dramas with Donghyuck. People just weren’t his thing. Until he met Lee Jeno. 

   Lee Jeno was a senior, just like him, and rather popular. He wasn’t on any of the sports teams, instead, becoming popular for his outgoing personality and kindness. Jaemin was jealous, frankly. He wanted to be able to talk to people easily! It was just...hard. 

   He’d first met Jeno at the school talent show, where he’d been working crew with Donghyuck. The pair had agreed that, as long as the talent show continued, they’d work the lights and run the mics because it was easier than being the ones performing. The older boy had been tuning his guitar backstage, Jaemin responsible for telling him he was up next. 

   When he’d first laid eyes on the other, Jaemin’s heart had leaped. The other boy was super handsome, with bleached-blond hair, nearly white in color, and a chiseled jawline. His eyes had twinkled as he played his guitar, singing along softly. Jaemin had instantly decided that he liked him. That Jeno would be the exception to his No People Rule. 

    “Hey, you’re next up, ok?” He told Jeno, waiting until he nodded, before sprinting away. Okay, so maybe people-ing was harder than he thought it was. 

   The next time he saw Jeno, it was at lunch, nearly a month later, the older boy sitting with one of the Chinese transfer students and laughing. Jaemin was struck with a sudden bout of courage. He could talk to Jeno. Right? 

  “Just go talk to him,” Donghyuck griped, stabbing his food with his fork. “Quit pining and go flirt with him. I know you know how to.” 

   “Flirt?!” Jaemin shrieked. “I haven’t even talked to him once!” 

   “And when has that stopped you before?” Donghyuck asked, quirking and eyebrow. 

   “I don’t flirt with people I just met!” 

   “Really?”

   “Yes!” 

   “Yerim-noona, Jisung, Jongin-hyung, Yugyeom-hyung, that girl from calc, the hot sub we had last week,” Donghyuck listed off. “You’re shy about literally everything except flirting!” Jaemin had to admit he had a point. His shyness extended to starting conversations, but flirting wasn’t really a conversation, was it?    

   “Okay fine.” Jaemin poked the side of Donghyuck’s head, before stalking over to Jeno, his hands in his pockets, trying to project a confidence he didn’t feel. 

   “Hey,” Jaemin said, stopping next to Jeno, starting to panic inwardly. “I’ve been meaning to tell you...great job at the talent show!” 

   Jeno turned to look over at him, brushing his bangs out of his face. When he saw Jaemin, he smiled. “Oh hey! You’re the boy who worked the lights!” He smiled, his eyes curving up cutely. “And thank you.” 

   Jaemin rocked backward a little on his heels. What should I say now, he thought. “You’re pretty,” He announced decidedly, making Jeno sputter a little, while the Chinese boy with red hair covered his mouth and snickered. 

   “Thank you?” Jeno said, voice questioning. He looked like he was waiting for something. 

   “Go out with me?” Jaemin asked, internally screaming. Okay, so he was actually people-ing. People-ing wasn’t so bad, right? 

   “Sure.” Jeno scribbled a number down on a scrap of paper he’d ripped out of a notebook. “Text me when.” 

   Jaemin took the number and nodded. “Talk to you later, then.” He turned on his heel to walk away. 

   “Lee Jeno, I am going to kill you!” He heard someone shriek, probably the Chinese boy. “That was my physics notebook!” 

   “I’m sorry, Renjunnie!” Jeno’s voice was imploring. Jaemin smiled. For Jeno, he could learn to people. 

   Jeno and Jaemin planned their date to be a simple one, just a coffee date and a walk around the park. Jaemin had amazed Jeno with the sheer amount of caffeine in his coffee. 

   "You drink an Americano with 4 shots of espresso?!" He'd exclaimed, completely amazed. 

   "Yeah." Jaemin had just winked at him. "It keeps me energized. Gotta have that stamina, right?" Jeno apparently caught his drift and just blushed. 

   "Nasty," He said, lighting punching Jaemin's arm. 

   "Truthfully," Jaemin said casually, "I prefer to be the one receiving." When Jeno had sputtered again, Jaemin highfived his mental Donghyuck. He could practically hear his best friend's voice saying You go, bitch! Get your man! 

   "You're dangerous," Jeno remarked, as they walked through the park. 

   "No, I'm Na Jaemin," he replied, giggling. 

   "Dad joke!" Jeno exclaimed, beaming. "I love those!" 

   "Oof, no thank you," Jaemin replied, shuddering. "That's literally the only one I can stand." 

   "Why do melons have weddings?" Jeno asked, making Jaemin groan. 

   "I don't care." 

   "Because they cantaloupe!" Jeno started laughing, nearly dropping his coffee. Luckily, Jaemin caught it, before smiling at his cuteness. 

   "That's awful." 

   "No it isn't!" Jeno protested, hands on his knees to catch his breath. "Why did the scarecrow win an award?" 

   "Jeno, no."  

   "Because he was outstanding in his field!" Jeno dissolved into giggles again,  Jaemin cringing beside him. 

   "Where are you even getting these?" He griped. "They're horrible." 

   "Maybe, but they’re good icebreakers," Jeno agreed, easily. 

   "Yeah, maybe if you wanna get shot by the person you’re trying to ice break." 

   "Okay, first of all, no one would shoot me because I'm a sweetheart," Jeno said, cupping his cheeks and making a cute face at Jaemin. "Second of all, how do you even ice break a person?!"

    Jaemin cringed. Of course he’d said something stupid. Jeno probably thought he was weird, but was just too nice to say it. "I don’t know," he replied, making a face. "I can’t people, I’m sorry." When he realized what he'd said, he slapped his hands over his mouth. 

   "Oh shit, no, that’s not what I meant, Jeno," he stammered, trying to backpedal. Jeno just laughed, low and sweet. 

   "It’s cute, Nana."  Jaemin froze. 

   "How did you know that nickname?" He asked suspiciously. 

   "Oh," Jeno looked abashed for a second. "I might have heard Donghyuck calling you that? I'm sorry if I overstepped." 

   "Oh, no, it's okay." Jaemin smiled at him, handing him back his mocha latte. "I like it." His fingers twitched towards Jeno's, longing to hold them. Jeno apparently noticed, because he threaded their fingers together. 

   "I like it too," He replied shyly. "And, Jaemin?" 

   "Yeah?"

   "You’re perfect as you are, even if you think you can’t people." 

     That was the day that Jaemin decided that maybe being shy wasn't so bad. Jaemin was shy and flirty, both, and it worked just fine for him. Maybe you didn't have to learn how to people to get the guy. If they were the right guy, it shouldn’t matter. And Jeno was the right guy, Jaemin was sure of it. 

Chapter Text

   Jeno fully admits to having a major crush on the doctor running the charity clinic. How can he help it, when said doctor is about as old as he is and as gorgeous as the first frost in Jilin, his hometown. His eyes are warm, dark brown, almost black. His hair, blond and silky, swooped up at his forehead, before coming down in a soft wave. Jeno wants so badly to run his fingers through it, to feel the silky strands, to kiss him until neither of them can breathe. The nurses have caught him staring longingly after the doctor every time he came by to visit and shot him highly judgmental looks. He supposes they're justified. Why would a grown man go to a charity clinic, just to stare longingly at the doctor? It was weird to say the least. But Jeno just couldn't help it. The doctor was just too beautiful. 

   It also maybe didn't help that this doctor is his ex. 

   It was years ago, back when they were still in college. Jeno had met the other boy at the dorms, having volunteered to room with a foreign exchange student. When he had volunteered, he hadn't expected it to be someone so tiny and sweet, effortlessly beautiful. It sucked that he didn't speak any Korean. 

   Still, despite the major language barrier, Jeno and Renjun were able to communicate, Jeno learning Mandarin as Renjun learned Korean. It was nice, Jeno thought, to have someone who understood you so easily, despite hardly knowing you at all. His and Renjun's bond just grew more and more, as they could communicate better, this time with words, rather than hand gestures and stilted phrases. 

   By their sophomore year in college, they had become close friends, always there for each other. By their junior year, they were blissfully in love, and it was magical. Jeno had never felt happier in his entire life.

   As their relationship progressed, they'd had cuddle sessions in the park, under the starlight. They'd kissed for the first time ever, after a sweet date at the movies, Renjun standing on his tiptoes in order to reach Jeno's lips. They'd progressed to touching and kissing more and more, until finally, they took the last step. And that was when Jeno knew that Renjun was his one. 

   They'd talked about their hopes and dreams, their passions, their families, everything, really. Renjun wanted to be a doctor, always the one to work hard and achieve whatever he wanted. His family had sent him to Korea for that very reason, to become a doctor. Renjun's goal in life was to help people, seeking to change their lives. The older wanted to make medical care more affordable, more accessible for the poorer people in the world.

   Jeno, though, was more laid back, less passionate, but still hard working. With a passion for photography and music, Jeno wanted to become a director for music videos, to help idols shape the image of their music's concepts in their fans' minds. Both had very different plans for life, but they never came between them. 

  Until the last few months of their senior year. That was when their different walks of life clashed. Renjun needed to go to medical school, the highly expensive next portion of his education. But, that also meant four more years of school, while Jeno would just go on to film school, if he wanted, his career path already available. But Renjun?  His major was medical science, which, to be a doctor, would require four more years of training, both in the field and in the classroom. And that meant he had to go back to China.

   They'd talked about it once. Renjun had been completely ready to settle for being a nurse, to help people more indirectly, if it meant he'd get to stay with Jeno in Korea. Jeno's heart had warmed, just as his blood had froze. He couldn't let Renjun give up his dream, his passion, for him. Not when his dream was so selfless and special, so unprecedented. Jeno couldn't let him give it up. Especially not for him. 

   So Jeno let him go. 

   It hurt both of them, and it hurt badly. Renjun had cried and begged and pleaded, but Jeno refused to relent, refusing to explain why. He didn't want Renjun to have any reason to stay, even if it broke his heart to let him go and be so cruel about it. In the end, just a week later, Renjun left Korea to go home, his favorite sweatshirt left in Jeno's bedroom, the only reminder of what they had been, the love that they'd had. 

    Years flew by, as Jeno became an established director in the kpop world. He'd helped produce countless music videos for some of kpop's hottest stars. He'd met some of the prettiest and handsomest celebrities on the planet, surely he would have become infatuated with one of them, right? But every time he looked at an idol, with all of their flawless beauty, he just couldn't help but long for dark chocolate eyes and one adorable dimple that appeared only when he'd laughed too hard. Jeno just couldn't get over him.

   His friend from work, Jaemin, had tried to set him up with countless people the minute he announced that he was ready to try to date again, Jeno simply being sick of pining for the Chinese. After his twentieth date with a complete stranger, Jeno realized that he had just been comparing all of them to Renjun, seeing how they matched up to him. Jeno had refused blind dates ever since. Renjun had always been his one and his only in college, and he would remain to be Jeno's one and only, probably till the day he died. 

   When Jaemin and him had seen on the news that a world-famous doctor was moving to Seoul to set up a cheaper, more affordable clinic, Jeno had never clicked on an article faster in his life. Huang Renjun, it had read, age 29, is a medical professional, born and raised in Jilin, People's Republic of China. Jeno had shared a look with Jaemin, then. Surely it couldn't be his Renjun? 

   The young doctor has gained international attention for his fresh new approach to the practice. Dr. Huang seeks to make medical care more accessible for everyone, and he constantly changes work places, moving across all of Asia to provide care for those who need it. His medical RV camp is coming to Seoul in just two days! "I plan to stay for at least four months, he says, to provide as much care as possible. "

   Jaemin had just pulled him into a hug, as Jeno broke down sobbing, asking if he was going to go see him. Jeno wasn't sure. He hadn't talked to his ex in seven years. So much could have changed. He could have a new boyfriend now, or maybe even a girlfriend. After using the two days to mull it over, he had agreed to go see him, even if he didn't talk to him. 

   After the fifth day of just watching Renjun run his clinic from afar, Jeno actually worked up the courage to get closer. He perched on one of the lawn chairs outside the RV clinic, clad in his ex-boyfriend's old sweatshirt. From here, he could see Renjun taking care of a little girl, maybe 7 or 8 years old, smiling softly at her. Jeno sighed. Getting over people was hard. Especially when you had loved them so passionately. 

   Today was the day he was going to talk to him, Jeno decided. Today was the day he was going to quit lurking like a crazy person and just go talk to Renjun. He wanted to clear things up, anyway, after their rough and nasty breakup. He owed it to Renjun, himself, and to Jeno's own conscious, drowning in guilt after the way they had broken things off. 

   Finally, after another hour of waiting, Renjun was alone, his nurses on lunch break. Jeno took a deep breath, before walking up to the RV with the open side and knocking on the side of it, to alert his ex to his presence. 

   "Hello?" He called softly. "I'm looking for Dr. Huang?" 

   "Hi," a voice chirped, the owner of the voice walking out of the back side of the trailer and out into the open section. "I'm Dr. Huang Renjun, how can I-" he broke off upon seeing Jeno. 

   "What are you doing here, Jeno?" He asked, voice cold and harsh. 

   "I missed you, Renjunnie." 

   They had their talk, Renjun closing up his RV for an hour, in the back section of the clinic, voices soft and tense, Jeno explaining everything. When he was finished, Jeno looked over at Renjun. 

   "I'm sorry for bothering you," he said, standing up and brushing invisible lint off his clothes. "I just didn't want you to think that I hadn't loved you. I understand if you've moved on." He moved towards the door, heart sinking when Renjun made no move to follow him. He didn't know what he had expected. Did he really think the older would still love him seven years later? That was wishful thinking at best. Renjun's hand caught his wrist, just as he went to open it. 

   "Stay," Renjun said softly. Jeno looked down at their hands as Renjun laced their fingers together. "Stay with me please." 

   "You know I never wanted to leave." 

Chapter Text

    Jeno got sick. Somewhere in the middle of We Go Up preparations, Jeno got sick. Mark doesn’t know what to do.

   Usually, it’s Jeno taking care of Mark and guiding him around like a lost duckling. Usually, Jeno makes sure that Mark is intact and gets to wherever he has to be. It’s extremely weird for Mark, when he has to be the one taking care of Jeno because he’s so used to Jeno being able to take care of himself. So, when Jeno gets sick, Mark panics

   And panicking translates to going to Donghyuck and Jaemin’s room and begging them to help.

   “Hyuckie, please,” Mark begged, nearly on his knees. “I don’t know what to do, help me!”

   Donghyuck just frowned down at him. “How do you not know what to do with your boyfriend when he’s sick? It’s not like he’s dying or anything.”

   Mark immediately jumped up to cover Donghyuck’s mouth. “Shh! Don’t say that word!” He hissed, eyes darting around the bedroom to see if any of the (nonexistent) staff had heard. It appeared they hadn’t. And, oh, they didn’t exist anyway, so they couldn’t have heard. Whoops.

   “What?” Donghyuck’s voice was muffled behind Mark’s palm. “Boyfriend?”

   “Quit it! He's not my boyfriend!” Mark moved his hand.

   "Denial isn't a stage of love, Canada, it's a stage of grief," Donghyuck deadpanned. "You're not grieving are you?" Mark slapped his hand over his mouth again, just to shut him up.

   “Can I record this or…?” Jaemin asked from where he was lounging on his bed, completely forgotten by Mark.

   “No!” Mark yelled at the same time Donghyuck let out a muffled, “Sure why not?” Both of them blinked at each other.

   “Does that mean I have to delete my recording?” Jaemin asked nonchalantly, grinning wickedly over at Mark. The eldest just groaned. Unfortunately, Donghyuck took that moment to break free, licking the palm of Mark’s hand making him yelp.

   “What the hell, Hyuck!” He screeched, wiping his hand on his pants and scowling. “That’s disgusting!” Donghyuck just beamed at him.

   “I thought it was funny,” Jaemin remarked, hitting the off button on his recording. He swung his stupidly long legs off the bed. Mark just scowled at him, while Donghyuck turned his glittering smile to Jaemin.

   “And for Jeno, hyung, I’ll go make him chicken soup if you promise to let me talk informally for a week.” Jaemin’s shit-eating grin made its appearance, the youngest cocking his head innocently.

   Mark sputtered for a second, making Donghyuck laugh, before relenting. “Dammit, fine.” He couldn’t help it; whatever Jaemin asked for, he’d do, as long as it would help Jeno.

   “Love you, hyungie!” Jaemin cooed, waltzing out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen.

   Mark just groaned. “Why are all of my dongsaengs so manipulative?”

   Turns out, Jaemin's chicken soup was actually really good, at least, according to Renjun. Mark wouldn't know, since Jaemin refused to let him try it, but, for some reason, when Renjun asked, he was completely fine with sharing. Mark would have been offended, but Jaemin was helping him out, so...sacrifices had to be made. Talking down must include not sharing his heavenly cooking. What cooking had to do with talking, though, he had no idea. He tried not to take personal offense.

   Mark took Jeno's bowl of soup from Jaemin, the younger giving him a wink, before heading towards Jeno's room. He walked super slowly, making sure he didn't spill it. Being agile wasn't his strong suit, as Donghyuck happily reminded him.

   Jeno, Jisung, and Renjun's room was an absolute mess, and that was putting it nicely. There were bottles of lotions all over the floor, clothes in piles by the only closet, and some Moomin comics laying around. Trying not to trip over a can of hairspray, Mark weaved his way through the room, before setting the tray down on Jeno's end table, sighing with relief. Thank god that's over.

   "Jeno," He murmured, fluffing the younger's hair. "I brought you some of Nana's chicken soup." One brown eye cracked open, a soft whine escaping his mouth. Mark smiled at him, leaning down to kiss his forehead.

   "Mark," Jeno whined, sliding up on the bed. "I don't feel good."

   "I know, but the soup is supposed to help." Mark brushed his sweaty bangs up off his forehead.

   "How?"

   "I honestly don't know, I looked it up on wikihow."

   "Romantic." Jeno offered him a slight smile, allowing Mark to spoon-feed him the soup. Mark was happy to comply.

   “You know it.”

   “Dork.” Jeno chuckled, bumping his head against Mark's hand like a cat would, when they wanted petted. Mark laughed, before sliding his fingers into Jeno's hair, trying to comb out the tangles. 

   “Careful now,” Mark teased, stroking his hair. “You’re starting to sound like Donghyuck.” Jeno just stuck his tongue out before giggling.

   "But you love Hyuckie." 

   "Yeah, platonically, but he's still a major pain." 

   "I heard that!" Donghyuck screeched from someone else in the dorm. 

   "Good!" Mark retorted, making Jeno laugh, which, in turn, made him beam. Jeno quickly finished the soup, the pair sitting in companionable silence. 

   "I think everyone else is worried," Mark offered suddenly, studying Jeno's flushed cheeks. He leaned down to kiss his head. He's warm, Mark thought, frowning. Must be a fever, then. 

   "They shouldn't be." Jeno frowned. "It's just a head cold."

   "Well they are," Mark replied, smiling. "You know that we're all like a big family." Jeno just hummed in agreement.

   Once he finished his soup, Mark moved to get up and return the bowl to the kitchen. Jeno's hand caught his wrist.

   "No," he whined. "Don't leave me!" Mark giggled, sitting back down next to his boyfriend.

   "I was just going to put the bowl up," He remarked, as Jeno tugged him down to lie next to him.

   "No. Cuddle me." Jeno pouted. Mark just giggled again.

   "Cutie." He wrapped his arms around Jeno's torso, letting the younger boy burrow into his chest. Jeno hooked one of his legs over Mark's hip, effectively trapping him in place. In no time, he was asleep.

   At first, it was cute and sweet. Aw, your sick boyfriend wants to cuddle with you. Then, after about an hour, Mark started to get hot. Like, burning hot. Jeno was a freaking furnace, with his fever, and it was starting to roast the older alive. Whining softly, Mark tried to pry himself out of Jeno's grip.

   When Jeno just whined out an adorable, “no~stay, I love you Mark hyung,” Mark’s resolve crumbled. He would happily stay and be Jeno’s personal pillow, as long as he loved him.

    But when the third round of Jeno’s fever hit him, Mark sighed again. The things you do for love, he thought. But he couldn't find himself minding all too much. What could he say? He was whipped for one Lee Jeno. For his members, Mark would move the world. And for Jeno? Mark would end it, no questions asked. But hopefully it wouldn't come down to that. 

Chapter Text

     Jeno pinned Jaemin to the wall, kissing him hard and deep. Jaemin groaned into his mouth, fingers itching to tangle themselves in his boyfriend's hair. Jeno's tongue swiped across his lips, begging for entrance. Jaemin happily parted his lips, relishing in the feeling of Jeno's body against his, his hands pinning Jaemin's own to the wall. A soft whimper left his lips when Jeno captured Jaemin's bottom lip between his teeth and began teasing it.

     As Jeno's lips trailed down to his neck, sucking hickies as he went, Jaemin groaned again, finally allowed to move his hands. His fingers quickly went into Jeno's hair, twisting into the black strands and tugging lightly. Jaemin was rewarded with a groan against his neck, making him smile. It wasn't often that they got to kiss, barely even seeing each other, alone, outside of their midnight rendezvous. 

     Surprisingly, it actually wasn't that hard to meet up in the middle of the night, despite being at a school run by wizards and witches with magic and ghosts. They even had a rather strict curfew (wouldn't want the Chamber of Secrets disaster to happen again!). Really, if they wanted the students to stay in their rooms, they should have made it harder to sneak out.

    Of course, the prefects always warned everyone against it, explaining that it could lose their house's points (oh no, we can't have that!), or that the students might come across something bad or dangerous. Frankly, Jaemin hadn't seen anything dangerous at all. Maybe the look in Jeno's eyes when he was wanting something a little bit more than kissing, but nothing that directly translated into 'Oh my god, my life's in danger, run away NOW!' 

    As for sneaking out...Jeno and Jaemin had been doing it for years. As mentioned before, really not that hard. Maybe once or twice, during their first two years, when they weren't very good at it, they had been caught, but it hadn't happened since. So sneaking out in their sixth year should be fine. Of course, the nature of their meetings had changed quite a bit since they first started. 

     During their first year, it had been meetings down by the quidditch courts, hidden next to the broomstick storage, chitchatting with his newly-found best friend. Then, in second year, they moved to the main courtyard, hidden under outcrops below the stained glass windows. Third year was the library, right next to the forbidden section. Finally, in fourth year, was when their relationship changed.

    In fourth year, Jaemin was asked to the Yule Ball by Jeno, completely unexpectedly. Obviously, he had said yes, and they had spent the Ball together. Thankfully, Hogwarts had decided to do the Yule Ball every year, for the fourth years and up, rather than requiring the Triwizard Tournament to host the Ball. To his surprise, Jaemin had had a lot of fun, not nervous in the slightest, barely even realizing he was on a date until Jeno brought him back to the Slytherin dungeons, kissing his cheek. And well...here they were now, two years later, making out next to the potions classroom. Delightful. 

   Footsteps sounded in the corridor, making the couple freeze. "Did you hear that?" Jeno whispered in his ear, breath tickling Jaemin's neck. He honest to god tried very hard to suppress the noise that almost made it out of his mouth. Turns out, his neck was very sensitive, more so than he thought. Who would have guessed?  

   Jaemin's choked-off whimper sounded ridiculously loud in the silent hallway.

   "I hear sneaky, nasty students!" Peeves's voice chortled, the poltergeist somewhere near by. "Out after curfew, sneaky, sneaky!" The poltergeist sounded thrilled, voice shrill and loud, clearly trying to alert a professor. Jaemin just rolled his eyes. Peeves delighted in their pain, like, seriously, couldn't two teenagers make out in peace?

    Jeno just barely chuckled, nipping the shell of Jaemin's ear, before pressing a kiss to his neck. "Midnight, tomorrow," He murmured, squeezing Jaemin's hand, before running away, feet completely silent. Jaemin watched the Hufflepuff run away, taking a second to rearrange his robes and even out his breathing, before sliding into the shadows, carefully slinking down the hallway and into the dungeons. 

   The next day, as Jaemin was scrambling to get dressed for breakfast, he was in such a rush that he forgot about changing in the bathroom, where his concealer was. He didn't realize his mistake until Donghyuck stared at his neck and yelped. 

   "Holy shit!" He shrieked. "Were you mauled by a centaur or something?" His roommate stared at his neck, making Jaemin pale, before rushing to cover it. 

   "What?" He asked, laughing nervously. "Why would you say that?" He quickly rummaged around in his trunk, praying that he had packed a turtleneck before leaving home. He nearly sobbed with relief when he found it, swapping his t-shirt out for it, before tugging his robes over it. 

   Donghyuck was studying him, head cocked, a suspicious glint in his eyes. "Say," the other Slytherin said, stalking towards him, an evil grin on his face. "would those happen to be hickies?" 

   Jaemin's brain immediately went into panic mode, hand flying up to check the collar of the turtleneck, scrambling to deny Hyuck's accusation. "What?!" He screeched. Okay, so maybe that wasn't all that convincing. "Why would I have hickies?" 

   His friend shrugged. "You tell me."

   "They're not hickies!" Jaemin's voice cracked, making him panic more. Shit, Jeno was going to kill him if Donghyuck found out. He'd probably never talk to or kiss him again!

   "Mm hm," Hyuck replied, reaching out to tug Jaemin's collar down, making the younger dart backwards. Donghyuck peered at him suspiciously, one eyebrow raised. "You're really doing a spectacular job of convincing me that it's not a hicky." 

   "Shut up," Jaemin groaned, adjusting his green and silver scarf around his neck. He'd have to be extra careful today, to make sure no one caught on. "Let's just go to breakfast." 

     When they got to the Great Hall, Jaemin told Donghyuck to go get him breakfast too, while he got the table. Jaemin's eyes surveyed over the four long tables, making sure one of their friends hadn't already claimed one for their group. 

     About twenty years after Harry Potter and his friends saved the Wizarding and Muggle worlds from Lord Voldemort, the new headmaster of Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall did away with the House tables. All of the divisions between the houses had helped contribute to the war, she had explained. If Slytherin hadn't been made out to be so evil, maybe not all of the Slytherin children would have sided with Voldemort. Of course, there would be no changing the past now, or telling what could have happened, but they could make up for their past mistakes now. 

     The house point hourglasses still stood outside the Entrance Hall, and the houses still had their separate common rooms and dormitories, but now they were less separated at gatherings and in class. In class, they were no longer given schedules by Houses, but, instead, divvied up into classes like Muggles did, taking class with others their age in all different Houses. And for celebrations and meals, instead of being called the House tables, as they used to be known as, they were simply tables. The professors encouraged everyone to mingle with students from other houses and other years. And mingle they did. Jaemin saw some Ravenclaws talking with a few of his fellow Slytherins, while some Hufflepuffs laughed with a few Gryffindors. All of the prefects were sitting together, too, while the professors and Headmistress looked on from their raised table. 

     After finally deciding on a table, Jaemin plopped down on one of the benches, watching the doors, waiting for his friends to show up or Hyuck to return. He didn't have to wait long, though, before Chenle and Jisung came racing through the doors, the fifth year Gryffindors giggling about god knows what. 

    "Lele! Sungie!" Jaemin yelled, waving an arm in the air, trying to get their attention. He knew Chenle spotted him when the younger's eyes lit up, before he grabbed Jisung by the arm and hauled him over to Jaemin. 

    "Hello!" Chenle chirped, cuddling up to Jaemin's side. Jaemin happily gave him the hug he was asking for, before nodding at Jisung, who gestured towards the food table, intentions clear. The younger disappeared, then, going to go get his and Chenle's food. 

    "Renjun!" The Chinese boy suddenly chirped, bouncing in his seat, sliding out of Jaemin's hold and racing towards the Ravenclaw boy. Chenle intercepted him halfway to the table, capturing him a major hug. The other wizard made a face, before allowing him to hug him, tentatively wrapping his arms around the younger. Jaemin laughed. Typical Renjunnie, he thought. 

     Once the older was successfully removed from Chenle's suffocating hold, but still clinging to his arm like a koala, Renjun headed over to the table. "Hey, Nana," He greeted, taking a seat across from him. 

    "Hey." Jaemin smiled at him. "How was your visit to your family?" 

     Renjun smiled back at him. "It was good, actually," he replied. The Ravenclaw had gone home for a break in the middle of the semester, since his dad was back in Jilin, after being gone for six months, tracking down magical creatures. He'd written all of them lots of letters, but it just wasn't the same without him there. Their need for Renjun's help with studying and homework having nothing to do with it of course. 

    "My baba was happy to be home," Renjun continued. "It was nice to see him, since it's been a while. My mama was good, too. She missed me enough, though-" he rummaged around in his bag, pulling out what looked like the top of a floor lamp, before shoving it back in and finding what he was looking for, "-to knit me socks," he finished, frowning at them. Jaemin could see why, frankly. They were kinda hideous, extremely misshapen, an odd parody of the Ravenclaw crest decorating the pair, with Renjun's name spelled out in Hanzi. 

     "Is that supposed to be the Ravenclaw crest?" A voice asked, popping up behind Jaemin. He turned around to see Mark studying Renjun's socks with an odd expression on his face. The eighth year was the oldest in their group, the one in charge of keeping all of them in line. Jaemin could attest that they never made it easy for Mark. 

     "Supposed to be, being the key words," Jaemin agreed, shooting the older Ravenclaw a smile before turning his attention back to Renjun, who was digging around in his bag again. 

     Donghyuck and Jisung showed up, too, right after Mark, both balancing plates on their arms and hands, Hyuck with four and Jisung with three. 

     "Merlin's beard, the hell is that, Renjunnie?" Donghyuck exclaimed, somehow managing to set all the plates down without dropping them. Jaemin commended his roommate on his bravery. Jaemin wouldn't have carried that many at once, no way. 

      "Socks." The boy looked offended by the idea. "I love my mama, but I don't know why she picked knitting as a hobby. They're horrible." Everyone agreed, but apparently, Renjun wasn't done. 

    To make matters worse, Renjun glumly pulled out five more pairs. "She made you guys some, too," he mumbled, shoving the socks at them. 

    Jaemin stared at the socks in his hands. His weren't too bad, actually, but definitely not good looking either. He loved Mrs. Huang, really, she was the sweetest lady, but the snake looked like a silver curly ramen noodle. Although his name was stitched on neatly, just below it. From the looks on his friends' faces, their socks weren't much better. 

    Jisung and Chenle's had a yellow blob surrounded by red, so Jaemin assumed it was supposed to be the lion. Donghyuck's socks looked exactly like his, but with his name on them, and Mark's looked like Renjun's as well. He didn't get to see Jeno's, as his boyfriend wasn't here yet, so Renjun hadn't taken them out. 

    Jaemin just kinda spaced out, as Mark recounted all the classes Renjun had missed. His brain wandered back to last night, with Jeno, and he shifted in his seat uncomfortably, willing his cheeks not to turn red. Unfortunately, Donghyuck latched onto the movement right away, narrowing his eyes at Jaemin. 

   "What's wrong, Nana?" He probed, propping his head up on his hands. "You know you can tell us anything." The smile that the Slytherin was giving him was anything but supportive, despite the words coming out of his mouth.   

   "Nothing, just got a chill," Jaemin mumbled, shifting closer to Mark, who was sitting on his left, silently begging for support. Mark was oblivious, however, not picking up on Jaemin's desperate plea for backup. 

   "It's winter, after all," Chenle agreed, the fifth year smiling at Jaemin. Jaemin felt a foot nudge his under the table and smiled internally. Thank god for the angel that was Zhong Chenle. Luckily, Jaemin was temporarily saved from the impending interrogation by Jeno's arrival, his boyfriend plopping down next to him, setting down a plate of food. 

    "Hey, everyone!" Jeno chirped happily, smiling an eye smile. "Welcome back, Renjunnie!" Under the table, he hooked his leg around Jaemin's, a silent claim. His hand dropped onto Jaemin's thigh, when the younger made to pull his leg back so Hyuck wouldn't notice, a warning not to move away. Jaemin gulped, but obliged. 

    "Thanks, Jen." Renjun procured Jeno's socks out of his seemingly never-ending satchel. Like, damn, Jaemin needed one of those. Jeno's socks were equally as horrible as everyone else's, the yellow and black merging in a big patchwork, although it could maybe be a badger. A highly disfigured one. 

     Unlike the rest of them, though, who eyed the socks with a sense of apprehension and mutual dislike, Jeno just beamed at them, eyes curving into crescents. "They're awesome, Renjunnie!" He cooed. Scratch that, Jaemin thought. Forget Zhong Chenle, Lee Jeno is an angel. Well, as long as he isn't making you beg for- Jaemin shut his brain off before that thought could finish taking shape. 

     Donghyuck snorted. "You do know that Renjun didn't make them, right?" 

    "Oh." Jeno's smile fell. "Yeah, then I'm sorry Renjun, but where did you get these...?" Everyone just laughed. 

    That night, Jaemin laid in his bed, obsessively checking his watch. Midnight was nearing, and he still had to sneak down to the Transfiguration classroom. Oh and he needed his roomie to fall asleep because Hyuck was 100% onto him. The older boy had pestered him throughout the entire day, trying to get him to confess who gave him the hickies. He'd even tried to get Renjun in on it, knowing that the older wouldn’t relent either, until Jaemin confessed.

    Jeno and Jaemin didn’t have a problem, necessarily, about being out and open with their relationship, but the rest of the wizarding world would. Unlike his parents, who were both muggles, Jaemin and Jeno weren’t really in a good position to marry. The wizarding world allowed gay couples to get married, yes, but they were generally frowned upon, just like in muggle society. Personally, Jaemin had always thought that was bullshit, even before he realized. Why should his parents be treated as less for loving each other? They were very clearly in love, and they took good care of Jaemin, so what’s the problem? 

     And the other problem contributing to why their relationship status was 'In love but closeted'? Jeno was a pureblood while Jaemin, as already stated, was muggle-born. And that was heavily frowned upon, still, even twenty years after the Great Wizarding War, and especially so by Slytherin House. 

     Of course, Jaemin knew that not everyone was going to be against them. His parents, obviously, wouldn’t mind, Jaemin having come out to them years ago after being caught in a highly...compromising position with another boy. Jaemin also knew that Hyuck and Renjun wouldn’t mind, Donghyuck being loud and proud about his sexuality, while Renjun often stared after one of the Gryffindor boys with literal hearts in his eyes. Jisung and Chenle, he was pretty sure, wouldn’t care either. Mark, however, was their token straight, but Jaemin was still pretty positive that the oldest wouldn’t care either. 

     Honestly? Jaemin didn’t care whether he and Jeno were out or not. He'd love to gush about it with Donghyuck, though, but he knew Jeno wasn’t ready to be out yet. So he would wait. For however long he had to. 

   Thankfully, Jaemin's internal monologue took long enough that Donghyuck fell asleep, so Jaemin tossed his covers off, already dressed in his robes, shoes on as well, and headed for the door. Jaemin weaved his way through all the clothes on the ground, making sure to jump lightly from spot to spot to avoid the places that creaked.

   When his foot landed on a rubber phoenix, Jaemin flinched, the squawk deafening in the silent dorms. Hyuck stirred a little, making Jaemin's blood run cold. Aw shit. He slowly crouched down, trying to get low enough so that his roommate wouldn’t see him if he turned over. Jaemin waited five minutes before slowly waddling to the door, his legs starting to burn from being crouched down for so long. 

    "Jaemin?" Donghyuck groaned out, voice thick with sleep. 

    "Going to the bathroom!" Jaemin chirped, standing up and rushing out of the room before Donghyuck could reply. His legs were killing him now, dammit, and he still had three flights of stairs to go down. Jaemin nearly whined, body already protesting, before easing the Slytherin common room's door open, praying for the hinges not to creak. Lucky for him, at least that part of the castle was willing to work with him. 

     Getting downstairs wasn't so bad, Jaemin nearly had a heartattack when the Fat Friar and the Bloody Baron floated through the wall beside him, but if they noticed him, they didn't say anything. Other than the ghosts, though, Jaemin didn't run into anyone or anything. 

     He met up with Jeno outside the Transfiguration classroom, jumping when his boyfriend popped his head out of the room, a mischievous grin painted over his face. 

    "Hey, pretty baby," Jeno told him, tugging him into the classroom and kissing him. Jaemin stumbled a little, caught off guard. 

    "Hi Jen," He replied, pressing a kiss to Jeno's lips before pulling back. "Did you have a good day?"

    "Yeah, actually." Jeno smiled at him, pushing a hand up through his hair. "I missed you though." 

     Jaemin cooed at the sweetness. "I did too, but we still get to see each other at night and during meals." 

    "And Quidditch," Jeno reminded him, smiling, tugging Jaemin down to sit next to him at one of the abandoned desks. Jaemin's eyes caught on one of the goblets on the back counter. It was had grey fur and a long tail. For some reason, it reminded Jaemin of a mouse...

    "And Quidditch," Jaemin agreed. "You are coming to my game tomorrow, right?" He looked over at Jeno hopefully, the older playing with Jaemin's fingers. 

    "Wouldn't miss it for the world." Jeno fiddled with one of Jaemin's rings. "Who are you guys playing? It's for the Cup, right?" 

    "Gryffindor, I'm pretty sure, and yes." Jaemin let Jeno slide one of his rings off of his hand and onto Jeno's own hand. It was one his twining silver bands, the metal worked to look like braided strands. He'd made it a while ago, idly practicing his metal working skills. Actually, all of his rings were hand-made, or, well, magic-made by Jaemin himself. 

    "Do you like my rings, Jen?" Jaemin teased, as Jeno admired it on his finger, twisting it back and forth. 

     Jeno hummed. "You're so talented, Nana." 

     "Why thank you." Jaemin did a corny little bow, sweeping his arm out fancily. When Jeno chuckled, Jaemin beamed. Goal accomplished, he thought happily. 

     "Dork." 

     "Your dork." 

     "My dork." Jeno kissed him chastely. Jaemin kissed him back, laughing. He leaned forward, trying to get a better angle, but the desk was in the way, making Jaemin groan in frustration. Jeno laughed before pulling him over the table and to his side, situation Jaemin in his lap, hands bracketing Jaemin's waist. Jaemin blushed, eyes downcast. 

     "Nuh uh uh," Jeno teased, tipping Jaemin's chin up, making him meet his eyes. "Look at me, baby." Jaemin just felt his heart jump in anticipation. Jeno's lips kissed up and down his jawline, sliding back down to his neck for the second time in just two days. Jaemin shivered, feeling Jeno's breath ghost across the hickies, although he didn't stay there, instead moving back up to Jaemin's ear, nipping the shell of it. Jaemin was lost in the sensation of it, as Jeno kept teasing at his ear, readjusting himself on Jeno's lap. Jeno noticed, Jaemin feeling his smirk against his cheekbone. 

     "Uncomfortable, baby?" He teased, moving to Jaemin's lips and sucking on the bottom one. Jaemin nearly moaned when Jeno's tongue slipped into his mouth, finding all the sensitive spots. He wrapped his arms tighter around Jeno's neck, tugging him closer, playing with the hair at the nape of Jeno's neck. In no time, Jaemin's robe was on the ground, the Slytherin left in just his t-shirt and pants, still pressed up against Jeno's body. 

    Really, it was a wonder how Jeno could go from cute and sweet to dominate and assertive. His duality between normal-Jeno and kissing-Jaemin-Jeno was insane. Jaemin's brain quickly moved on to other things, though, once Jeno laid him out on the pillows in the corner of the room, his boyfriend pausing only to cast a Muffliato charm along with a Homenum Revelio one, before resuming where they'd left off. 

    It was nearly two in the morning before they finished, both boys completely exhausted. Once they were properly redressed, they said their goodbyes, Jaemin pressing a kiss to Jeno's swollen lips. 

    "See you at the game tomorrow, Nana," Jeno whispered, dispelling the charms in the room before slipping out the door. Jaemin watched him go, admiring how hot he looked in the silver and green robes. He was eternally grateful that he had no classes tomorrow because there was no way in hell he would be able to get up at 7 am. He was way too tired and it was way too late. Jaemin started his slow trek down the stairs, leaning on the wall in order to avoid falling over.

   Right outside the dungeons, he noticed that the robes he had slipped on weren't his, but Jeno's. Smacking his forehead, he groaned. He'd remembered seeing Jeno in silver and green robes, but didn't think anything of it. Crap, now he'd have to get into their room without Donghyuck waking, as well as out of the Hufflepuff robes. There'd be no hiding his relationship if Hyuck found them. 

    Easing the door to the common room open, Jaemin tiptoed in, closing the door behind him. He turned around to head to his and Hyuck's room, leaving his shoes by the door. Jaemin slipped into their room, limping slightly, frowning when it was so dark that he couldn't see anything. Apparently, his eyes hadn't adjusted yet. He heard a sound, whipping his head over to stare at Hyuck's bed. When he wasn't lying there, Jaemin frowned. What the-

     The lights in their room flipped on, illuminating Donghyuck sitting on Jaemin's bed, legs crossed, his ankles hooked together. His black cat, Pungja, was curled up on his lap, Donghyuck stroking her ears, looking every bit like an evil villain from children's movies. 

     "Welcome back," Donghyuck deadpanned. "That was an awful long bathroom trip." Jaemin paled. 

     "Uh, yeah, I know, my stomach was kinda upset," he lied, scratching the back of his neck nervously. Aw shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, his brain shrieked, going into major panic mode. 

     "For two hours?" Donghyuck looked unamused. "In Hufflepuff robes? Limping?" 

     "Yeah, you know," Jaemin tried to bluff, lamely. "Laundry and whatnot." 

     "Mm hm." Donghyuck set Pungja down on the floor. Jaemin's heart was racing a billion beats per second. Oh my god, what if Donghyuck figured out who it is? You know he's on to you. His thoughts weren't helping either. What if Hyuck tells everyone? What if Jeno breaks up with you? 

     "Just tell me one thing, Jaemin, and I'll leave you alone, " Donghyuck said, eyes alight with mischief. "I've been wondering, lately." Jaemin nodded instantly, desperate to move on to another subject and far, far away from him and Jeno. Plus, his back really hurt, and he was about to fall asleep where he stood. 

     "Does Jeno top or bottom?" Jaemin froze. 

     Waking up the next morning was utter hell. Granted, if he'd had classes he would've had to get up three hours earlier, but Jaemin was still tired as fuck and nothing was going to change that. It was his fault, though. No one said he had to meet Jeno every night for makeout/talk sessions. But no one was going to make him stop, either. So Jaemin just dealt with it. 

     Donghyuck finding out about him and Jeno wasn't so bad, actually. The older boy had just asked his question, pestering Jaemin until he answered, the younger boy completely mortified and embarrassed, before going back to bed. And in the morning, before Donghyuck rushed off to class, he'd just hugged a groggy Jaemin goodbye before telling him that he'd support him and Jeno in anything and that he didn't care that it had been secret. "Your secret's safe with me," he called over his shoulder, before the door banged shut. 

     Jaemin dragged himself out of bed, wincing as the muscles in his back tightened up. His feet hit the cold floor, making him whine out loud. Jaemin shuffled around the room, slowly getting dressed, trying to figure out what would keep him warm once he was in the air. He decided on another turtleneck and two pairs of sweatpants, even wearing the hideous socks from Mrs. Huang, before grabbing his broom from under the bed and rushing out to the Quidditch pitch. 

     The crisp winter air was awful, but it woke Jaemin up. He met up with the Slytherin team in the broomstick shed, wincing when the captain, Nakamoto Yuta, turned his glare on him. 

     "You're late, Na!" He exclaimed, pacing back and forth around the hut. Yuta was technically not supposed to be at Hogwarts anymore, as he graduated a few years ago, but he always returned for Quidditch games. He was their coach's coach, actually, but everyone knew that Yuta was the one in charge. He'd been captain when Jaemin had tried out, five years ago.

     "Sorry, Yuta-hyung," Jaemin mumbled, wincing. "I didn't set my alarm right." Well, actually, he did, but he let it run so long that he fell back asleep, but Yuta didn't need to know that. 

     "Whatever, let's go." Yuta ran a hand through his cherry-red hair. "Just get the snitch, kiddo." It surprised most people, actually, that Jaemin was a Seeker and not a Beater. He was buff enough to be an efficient and skilled beater, but, when he had applied for the team, Yuta had watched him fly after the bludgers twice before deciding that he was going to be a Seeker. He'd also made Ten, one of the other graduated players, a Beater, confusing everyone else yet again. But Yuta hadn't been wrong yet. 

     "I'll do my best." Jaemin was currently worried about his ability to stay on the broom, with it being so uncomfortable to sit, period. He definitely didn't want to lose the game. Jaemin was banning Jeno from doing anything like that again before a game forever. Like, seriously, sitting was absolute torture.  Hopping onto his broom with a grimace, Jaemin prepared to fly out onto the pitch with the team. 

     Flying on broomsticks was a unique experience for Jaemin. He'd flown so many times, now, since he'd joined the team, yet he never got used to the feeling of the wind in his hair and twisting and turning through the air. Being muggle-born, everything about the wizarding world had amazed him at first. Chocolate frogs, wands, Animagi, magical creatures, but, for some reason, Quidditch was still, well, magical.

   Jaemin flew out onto the pitch, basking in the cheers and shouts from his House. Oh yeah, this would never get old. He scanned the Hufflepuff crowd for Jeno, trying to see if he could pick out his boyfriend. He found him, his boyfriend standing and waving a large banner with the words, "You go, Nana!" on it, clad in Jaemin's Slytherin robes from the night before. Jaemin's heart warmed, admiring how hot Jeno looked in silver and green. Really, it was a shame that Jeno was in Hufflepuff. He'd be a blessing to everyone if he wore Slytherin robes every day. 

    Snapping out of his momentary distraction when Yukhei, the official captain of the Slytherin team, blew his whistle, Jaemin stopped his broom, whirling into position at the center of the court.

   "Players ready?" Donghyuck yelled, the official announcer for the games. When the coaches blew the whistle, Mrs. Hooch tossed the Quaffle into the air, the Bludgers and Snitch being released somewhere below them. Instantly, Jaemin was on the move, hunting for the little golden sphere with wings. 200 points to whoever got it first. 

    This season, Slytherin had a new strategy. In past years, Slytherin has always tried to be tougher, more brutal with the Bludgers, and just generally making the other team’s life miserable, while their small and light Seeker scoured around for the Snitch. This year, though, Yukhei had proposed a more, well to put it frankly, nicer plan, plus it was more polished too.

    Their plan was to ultimately have Jaemin search for the Snitch relentlessly, while the Chasers played a larger role this year, constantly warring against their opposing team for the Quaffle. Finally, the Beaters would only attack when necessary for a play, rather than simply attacking constantly to maim their opponents. The Keeper, of course, was just the Keeper, Yukhei leaving himself to do what he did best. Although, now that Jaemin thinks about it, the Keeper couldn’t do anything EXCEPT keep the goal. Whatever, the point was that Slytherin was playing fairly. They wanted to prove that Slytherin wasn’t all evil wizards with bad intentions.

     A flash of gold registered in Jaemin’s left peripheral, making the Seeker whip his head around, scouring the pitch for another glimpse of the Snitch.

   “James McCullough scores 10 points for Slytherin!” Donghyuck yelled over the intercom, the Slytherin supporters screaming in the stands. “Now Angella Monica from Gryffindor has the Quaffle! Ouch, she took a Bludger from her own teammate! You do know you’re supposed to hit the OPPOSITE team, right, Sooyoung?” Jaemin grinned, as he swerved out of the way of another Bludger, hovering high above the center of the pitch. The game dragged on, 100-50, Gryffindor. Jaemin needed the snitch and soon. 

     Another flash of gold, this time above the Ravenclaw stands. Jaemin caught sight of the little winged ball before it was darting away quickly, but not quick enough for Jaemin to lose sight of it. I've got you now, he thought. Jaemin leaned forward, speeding his broom towards it. Come on, come on, come on... Jaemin's hand stretched out, maybe fifty feet from the snitch. 

    "Na's seen something!" Donghyuck crowed over the announcements. "I think he's spotted the snitch!" 

    Jaemin's heart pounded as the snitch swerved, Jaemin moving with it. Now the Gryffindor Seeker was right on top of him, nudging him to the side, trying to spot the Snitch. Jaemin's blood was boiling, eyes trained on the ball, the 200 points, the key to the Quidditch cup.  Jaemin's fingers nicked the Snitch, just as a loud crunch sounded next to him, the Gryffindor Seeker collapsing awkwardly onto Jaemin. Both boys fell off the broom, right next to the Quidditch hoops, landing on the cushioning charm spread over the field. 

    Madam Pomfrey rushed over to heal the other Seeker, Jaemin waiting until he was confirmed to be okay, before brandishing the Snitch in the air. 

    "Na Jaemin has captured the Snitch!" Donghyuck screamed, the stands erupting into cheers. Jaemin beamed as the team landed around him, hoisting him up on their shoulders. 

     "Jaemin, Jaemin, Jaemin!" His name was chanted by all the Slytherins around him, but he only had eyes for one person.  

      Jaemin loved being at Hogwarts. He really did. Scotland was beautiful, almost as much as Korea, and, although he had missed home at first, Hogwarts became his home away from home. When he first moved to the old castle, nothing could make him smile. He was sad, quiet, and withdrawn, refusing to talk to anyone except when he had to. Then he met Jeno. The Hufflepuff had found him hiding under the hoops at Quidditch pitch after tryouts, sobbing his eyes out, begging to go home. 

      Jeno had kneeled next to him, hand stretched out, smiling. He'd wiped the tears off of Jaemin's face, fluffing his hair, before sitting next to him and leaning on his shoulder. 

     "I'm from Korea," he'd said, wrapping an arm around Jaemin's waist. The other boy had blinked over at him, confused as to why this boy was talking to him. Jeno had rambled on for hours about random things; his home in Incheon, his obsession with cars, his older brother, the stigma around being pureblood after the War. Anything and everything, Jeno had talked to him until the sun had set, holding him close to his side. They'd been friends ever since. 

      Now, though, five years later, in the exact same spot, Jaemin can say, without a doubt, that he loves Jeno. He knows it for a fact. It couldn't be anything else. No other feeling would make him melt into a puddle from a single touch, make butterflies fill his stomach while warmth floods his chest. No other feeling would let him give himself entirely to Jeno, no questions asked. Jaemin was in love with Lee Jeno. Whole-heartedly, no questions asked, without a doubt. And yet, somehow, he just wasn't scared. 

      Untangling himself from the team, Jaemin walked over to his boyfriend who was standing awkwardly off to the side. "I love you, Jen," Jaemin mumbled, lacing their fingers together, the crowd around them completely forgotten. "You do know that, right?" 

       Jeno gaped at him for a minute, not even pulling away from Jaemin, despite being out in the open. "Really?" He breathed out. Jaemin's boyfriend's eyes were blown wide, eyes shocked. 

      "You captured my heart years ago," Jaemin told him, grinning at his boyfriend whose hands were cupped over his mouth. Jeno looked so beautiful, eyes suspiciously shiny. "You've always been the one for me. I just didn't know it yet. I love everything about you." 

      "Even my-" Jeno's eyes filled with mischief. 

      "Don't you even say it, but yes." 

      "Cute." Jeno pulled him into a tight hug, tucking his head in Jaemin's neck, breathing in his scent. "Promise you love me?" He pulled back to study Jaemin, fingers still laced together. 

     "Always," Jaemin kissed his hand, the gesture just feeling right to him. Jeno giggled, eyes curving into crescents. 

     "Woo!" Donghyuck yelled over the mic, making everyone in the pitch cover their ears and wince. "You go, bitch!" Jaemin just laughed. Typical Hyuck. Jeno seemed egged on by the comment, and, in a sudden spurt of bravery, picked Jaemin up and twirled him, capturing him in a kiss, as all of Hogwarts looked on. Jaemin cuddled into his arms happily. 

     "I love you too, Nana." 

The End

Chapter Text

     Chenle scooted closer to Kun the longer the game went on. They were playing a saranghae game where, one person confesses their love to the person on their left. If you smiled, couldn’t respond with an “yes” or “no”, or laughed as you were confessed to, you lose. Seems simple, right? Yeah no. 

      Jisung went first, to everyone’s delight. The younger had lost the Rock Paper Scissors game, making him the first confessor. Unfortunately for the maknae, he was seated between Ten and Renjun. The first time he confessed, Ten just flat-out rejected him, making the younger wilt, before laughing at himself. Renjun had tried to count him out, but they all agreed that the confessor could laugh and smile, just not their targets. 

     Lucky for Jisung, Renjun gave in and said "yes" after one round of back and forth, making Chenle the next target. He survived with little trouble, though. Everyone started screeching when Renjun confessed to Jisung because the younger flat out smiled right off the bat, making Chenle laugh. My idiotic friend, he thought, giggling. 

    "Park Jisung OUT!" He screeched, making everyone laugh. The younger just wailed, before scooting his chair back. A few rounds went through, before it got to Jaemin, who went to confess to Lucas. Immediately, the Cantonese boy contorted his face into a grimace, trying to hold back any reaction. It didn't work; Lucas chuckled, making everyone else laugh. They did take it to a vote, however, for whether or not to save him. Unfortunately for Yukhei, only norenmin voted to save him; Kun, Chenle, Jisung, Jungwoo, and Ten all voted to condemn him.  Chenle was starting to get excited! The game was fun! 

    He caught Jaemin looking at him from across the table, frowning when he saw how close he was to Kun. Chenle's brain immediately started rolling, trying to figure out how to make Jaemin more jealous. Besides, it was kind of ridiculous, honestly. Kun, Taeyong, and Doyoung were hands-down the moms of NCT, but Kun always had a special place for the Chinese members. If anything, Kun was Chenle's adoptive mom. There was no reason to be jealous whatsoever. 

    But Jaemin didn't need to know that. 

    Jeno was eliminated next, taken down by the one-and-only Na Jaemin. Now it was just him, Renjun, Jaemin, Ten, Jungwoo, and Kun, the last two having not been targeted at all yet. Ten was Jaemin's next target, the dancer still completely stone-faced, despite Jaemin's absolutely ridiculous 'saranghae'. It was so bad that even Chenle cringed, unable to keep a straight face when confronted with his boyfriend's ridiculousness.

     Renjun was next to be eliminated, laughing when Ten confessed to him. The boy still denied it though, but Lucas had caught him, so he was out. Chenle was starting to feel pretty good about his position now. Both with Jaemin and the game. He had his boyfriend right where he wanted him, while being subtle enough to not be over the top, plus the other members were doing his work for him, eliminating everyone else, Chenle himself only having to deny a confession once.

     Unfortunately, now it was his turn to be confronted, by Ten himself. Ten, frankly, was arguably the biggest gay in NCT, a cold-hard fact. The Thai male was insanely shameless and flirty, melting anyone he tried for. 

     Chenle met Jaemin's eyes first, his boyfriend staring him down intensely, making Chenle's plan waver a little. He quickly shifted his eyes to Ten, hoping he could resist. He was rather proud of himself when he did, even surviving the finger hearts that the older threw. 

     "Yes," Chenle said, hand cupping his chin, channeling his inner badass. He turned to Kun, barely resisting the urge to smirk. Step one, he thought. Be cutesy with Kun-Ge. 

    "Kun-hyung," Chenle said calmly, staring the older down. He smiled when Kun's lips already started to pull at the corners. "Saranghaeyo!" He screeched, sending him finger hearts and using as much aegyo as possible.

    Kun cracked like an egg, absolutely failing, making the table erupt into chaos again. Chenle shot a glance at Jaemin, seeing the older looking at him with a stern look in his eyes, practically glaring at him. Chenle couldn't resist a giggle, which, apparently, Jaemin heard, because he made a 'compose yourself' gesture when the camera panned over him, while glaring again once he was off the camera screen. Chenle beamed internally. Step one complete!

    When the camera paused to let them get up and stretch a little, Chenle made sure to cuddle with Renjun and Jisung, the older shoving him away, while Jisung happily let him cuddle him. Chenle wasn't going to say that he didn't enjoy the cuddles, he absolutely loved them, but he also enjoyed making Jaemin jealous. It was all part of the fun. He caught Jaemin eyeing him a few times, an unreadable look in his eyes. 

    Once the game restarted, Chenle situated himself in Kun's lap, wrapping the older's arms around his waist and snuggling in. Kun just indulged him, bouncing him once, almost like a baby. His confession to Ten was completely ineffective, but when Ten turned his eyes on Jaemin, the younger cracked instantly, snapping his head back and laughing. Chenle's heart warmed as he watched Jaemin laugh, enjoying the happiness on his face, before smirking to himself. Let's see if Jaemin can control himself now. 

    With Jaemin down, Ten's next target went to Jungwoo, the other boy having been left alone thus far. Jungwoo resisted with little trouble, surprising absolutely no one because NCT's gay list went: 1. Ten/Jungwoo, with Jeno, Mark, and Taeyong in the bottom place. So it wasn't surprising at all. Although Chenle was worried, now that he was Jungwoo's target. He was sweet and cuddly, yes, but confident gay material? Not really. 

    He survived the first two attacks from Jungwoo, as did Ten, but when Ten pouted and whipped out the aegyo, Chenle was a goner. But he made it to third place! And Jaemin was sending him heavy looks from across the table. Chenle nearly shivered in anticipation. 

    Ten and Jungwoo went back and forth long enough for Lucas to jump up and tease them, saying "1 hour later, 2 hours later, okay go!" In the end, they decided on playing rock paper scissors again, leaving Jungwoo as the champion. He made his little speech, before the boys headed back to the vans, splitting up. Jeno, Renjun, Jisung, Jaemin all headed for the same one, while the hyungs, Yukhei (wow calling Lucas 'hyung' still felt weird), Kun, Ten, and Jungwoo went for the other. Chenle considered going with Kun just to make Jaemin even more jealous, but Jaemin grabbed his arm, grip tight around his elbow, dragging him to the Dreamies' van. 

     The manager just smiled at them, before turning on some soft music and driving them towards the dorms. Chenle gulped, when Jaemin's hand landed on his knee, stroking over it. What is he thinking?  The drive to the dorm felt endless, Chenle just squirming in his seat as Jaemin's hand continued to just stroke over his knee, the older seemingly completely unperturbed. 

     Once they were in the dorm, Jaemin tugged Chenle into his room, before shooting him a smirk.

     "Did you think I didn't know what you were doing?" 

Chapter Text

      Jisung curled up on the floor of the boy bathroom, head banging against the stall door. The floor was probably filthy as hell, but right now, he really didn’t care. He pulled his knees up to his chest, plopping his forehead down onto his knees. 

     Did he like hiding in the bathroom? No, absolutely not; it was disgusting and filthy. But did he need to hide in the bathroom? Yeah, kinda. 

      People just didn’t like the way he dressed. Jisung was fine with that, “it’s totally cool that you don’t like the way I dress, I dress to please myself anyway” had always been his answer. But it wasn’t that people just disliked it. Some people flat out hated it, despised it enough to bully him for it. As if being a freshman wasn’t hard enough. His pastel clothing and beloved kawaii hoodie shouldn’t define who he was. 

       But he also knew that it wasn’t just dislike that made them hate him. It fear, fear of the way that he was 100% unashamed to express himself. The other reason? He had the eye of the boy that all the ladies wanted, that all the guys wanted to be. 

        Na Jaemin, bad boy supreme, 175,2 of pure gorgeousness, was courting him. And that made people mad. The pair had their own messy dynamic to figure out. Jisung wasn’t always the smartest person in the room, but he knew enough to know that getting beat up wouldn’t help anything. Hence the hiding in the bathroom.

        “I am going to walk into the bathroom and not find Park Jisung in here,” a voice muttered outside Jisung’s stall, making him freeze, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “I am going to use the bathroom and there’s not going to be a Park Jisung in here.”  

        Renjun’s signature painted converse appeared under the stall door, the EXO Planet logo pointing towards Jisung. 

        “I can see your backpack,” The older remarked, mirth evident in his voice. “Why are you hiding in here again, Jisung-ah?” 

        “Dammit,” Jisung muttered, picking up his backpack and unlocking the stall. “Hi hyungie.” 

        Renjun’s arms were crossed, the older looking highly unimpressed. “My little brother texted me to tell me to pick you up from the boys bathroom. Again.” Jisung smiled faintly to himself. That was his best friend for you. Chenle always had his back, even if they weren’t gonna win at all. He could always count on his best friend to help him out. 

         “Sorry,” Jisung mumbled, shuffling his feet. How was it that the older always managed to make him feel guilty without even trying. “I had a bad day.” Technically, it was true. Renjun just didn’t need to know that it had been consecutive bad days for the past few months. Details weren’t important...right? 

         “Clearly,” Renjun reached over and patted his shoulder sympathetically. “Let’s not make this a habit, okay?” Jisung nodded eagerly, as they walked out, the junior trying to subtly match Jisung’s pace by speeding up. Jisung suppressed a snicker, slowing his pace to let the much-shorter boy catch up. Ah, the joys of being tall. 

         “So where’s Lele?” Jisung asked as they walked towards the cafeteria. A few people shot them glances, but no one was going to say anything, not while Jisung was walking with high school royalty. Renjun, Jeno, Mark, Donghyuck, Jaemin, Yukhei, and a few other upperclassmen were nearly untouchable to the social hierarchy. Renjun and Mark for student council, Jeno and Yukehi for sports, and Jaemin and Donghyuck for their attitudes.  With Renjun, he was safe from the bullies. 

         “Serving another lunch detention.” Renjun didn’t sound happy. 

         “For?”

         “‘Standing up for someone’,” Renjun replied, making air quotes and rolling his eyes affectionately.  “He won’t tell me who, of course, but it’s been happening a lot lately.” Jisung paled a little, making a mental note to tell Chenle that he didn’t need to get in trouble over him. Jisung would be fine. 

“That’s Lele for you,” Jisung said, instead. “Always helping those in need.” Renjun frowned but didn’t comment. 

They had reached the cafeteria, and Renjun pushed the doors open, making a beeline straight for his usual table. Jisung had never been so grateful for the four-grade lunch. He didn’t think he’d survive high school without it. All of his friends (Chenle) and his acquaintances (Renjun) were older than him.

When Renjun made to go sit at his usual table with Mark and Jeno, Jisung wilted a little. He knew that the older had friends and definitely had better things to do than to babysit his little brother’s pastel friend, but he’d hoped that maybe…

Jisung shuffled his feet a little and scratched his head before going to get his lunch. He’d figure it out afterwards… 

 Thirty seconds later Jisung still hadn’t figured it out. 

  The freshman was literally standing in the middle of the overcrowded cafeteria, completely alone, eyes panning over the tables, assessing who would be nice and who wouldn’t. 

He saw people already staring at him with judgemental looks, whispers of “it’s that gay kid!” reaching his ears. His body curled inward, trying to make his lanky frame seem smaller, less threatening, while his brain simultaneously wanted to revolt and make a scene. 

 Gay stereotyping was so stupid, anyway. Not all gay guys had high pitched voices and loved fashion. There wasn’t necessarily a girly guy in every couple. They were just guys who liked other dudes. Some liked to be ripped, some liked dresses, some liked to look pretty, some liked to be tough, they were just people. 

Personally, Jisung had already accepted that he was gay. Heck, his first kiss had been Chenle, the two of them wondering what kissing was like when they were ten. He was gay and accepted that for himself. Really, he had no reason not to. But he also discovered that he liked pastels.

He loved the light, sweet colors with soft vibes. The hoodies and sweatpants and dyed jeans made him feel safer, prouder, stronger. Jisung wasn’t afraid to look “feminine”, look cutesy, look sweet and fluffy. He was confident enough in his masculinity, why bother putting on airs?  

An upperclassman walked up to Jisung, big and hulking, staring him down. “Whatcha waitin’ for, flower boy?” Jisung frowned up at him, slightly annoyed by the tiny height difference. 

“Standing, what’s it look like, dipshit?” He channeled his inner Haechan, trying to mimic one of his favorite hyungs. 

The older stared him down, arms crossed, looking annoyed by the sass. “What makes you think you can talk to me like that?” He hissed, eyes narrowing. Jisung just facepalmed internally. He should have kept his mouth shut, mini-internal Haechan un-channeled. Blockheads like this guy just couldn’t appreciate pure sarcasm. 

The guy was just squaring up to fight Jisung, the younger still amazed at the stupidity of other people, when a confident voice drawled, “What do you think you’re doing?”, the owner strutting through the cafeteria doors, two boys flanking him on both sides. Jisung’s heart started to speed up, hands getting clammy. 

Na Jaemin had arrived. 

The older was clad in his typical black ripped, skinny jeans, metal chain draped from the front belt loops to his back pocket. His signature combat boots were shining against the fluorescent lighting.  Jaemin finished the outfit out with white and red tank covered up with leather jacket. He looked hot as hell. 

Jisung frowned. Why did he have to show up now? I would have been perfectly fine on my own. He shouldn’t feel like he has to protect me constantly. We’re not even dating!  

Jaemin’s arrival had the intended effect, however, just the sight of the junior making the bully cower and back down. He mumbled an apology to Jisung before sprinting away. Jaemin’s smirk made Jisung roll his eyes, while his traitorous heart sped up instantly. 

He knew Jaemin was attracted to him. Sure, he flirted with everything that walked on two legs, but the junior had made it abundantly clear from their first meeting that Jisung was the only one that he truly cared about. 

They always played their bizarre game of tug-o-war. He’d let Jaemin care for him sometimes, then reject it later. They’d go on mini-dates, coffee, ice cream, and the like. They would all be dripping in implied attraction, but nothing came out of it. Ever. 

Jisung knew he was attracted to the older boy. His aura and personality were completely different, just like Jisung. Jaemin was bad-boy supreme on the outside, while his inside was kind and caring and thoughtful. Jisung’s outside was sweet and cute while his insides were sassy and witty. They were so alike and yet so different, and it made Jisung just want to kiss the living daylights out of Jaemin. Which probably wasn’t a good solution. 

Really, it all stemmed down to: Jisung and Jaemin needed to talk. 

“Come on, Jisung-ah,” Donghyuck murmured in his ear, a gentle hand on his hip guiding him away, over to a table. Really, if he didn’t have Donghyuck to help him when he was being a mess around Jaemin, Jisung would’ve died from embarrassment by now. 

Jisung barely registered that it was the royalty table before he was shoved down by the older’s hand on his shoulder, tray clanking against the table. 

Three pairs of eyes stared back at him, displaying a wide range of emotions. Jeno’s kind eyes were confused; Mark’s were calm, collected, but Jisung noticed that, under the carefully structured facade, Mark’s jaw was clenched, tight with suppressed anger. Meanwhile, Renjun just looked like some stranger had confessed their undying love to him, from the level of shock etched into his pretty features. 

“Jisung,” the older said, shooting him an unreadable look as Donghyuck leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead before walking away, “is that why Chenle told me to go get you?” 

“Maybe?” Jisung scratched his neck sheepishly, wanting nothing more than to pull the hood of his sweatshirt up and hide from the world. 

“Not maybe. Yes or no.” Renjun’s eyes glittered with suppressed rage, making Jisung shrink down even more. The older Chinese boy might be tiny, but he was absolutely terrifying when he was mad. 

“Do you need us to do something about it?” Jeno piped up, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. His eyes slid over to Renjun, clearly making sure his boyfriend wasn’t going to go kill someone. 

“You can be honest with us, Jisungie,” Mark added

“Yeah, maybe…” He muttered, actually pulling his hood up and tightening  the strings. Renjun’s eyes hardened, Mark’s jaw clenching tighter, and Jeno looking even more confused. Honestly, he loved his Jeno hyung, but he seemed a little dense sometimes. 

“I am going to kill-” Renjun hissed, moving to stand up and fight someone. 

“Nuh uh uh!” Jeno replied, catching Renjun by the waist and tugging him back down to sit next to him. Jisung’s eyes tracked the movement, noticing that Jeno’s hand was resting on Renjun’s hip. His heart leaped a little as he imagined Jaem-no, he couldn’t go there. His brain had to stay far, far away from there. 

“Violence is never the answer,” Mark added serenely, patting Renjun’s hair. The other boy now looked murderous, his death glare trained on the blond boy. 

“Violence is ALWAYS the answer.” Jisung looked away awkwardly when Jeno started murmuring in Renjun’s ear, feeling oddly out of place. He hadn’t intended to let his hyungs find out about the bullies, not like this. Usually, he could keep it hidden, handle it on his own. He’d still have to thank Chenle for standing up for him. Chenle, who would understand anyway, without a single word being said. 

Jisung’s eyes wandered around the cafeteria, unconsciously searching for Jaemin. Jisung hadn’t realized he’d been searching until he breathed out a sigh of relief when he spotted the older. When the older looked up and saw him staring, he winked, making Jisung whip his head around. Nope, nope, nope. Not doing this now, not doing this now. 

Mark was eyeing him funny when Jisung turned back around, making him wince.

  Please don’t say anything, hyung, he mouthed, mortified. 

I won’t. Mark smiled. Jaemin’s a good guy. 

Jisung just blushed, dropping the eye contact. Was he really that easy to read? 

A hand landed on his shoulder, making him jump and squeak embarrassingly loud. When the clanking of chains reached Jisung’s ears, he blushed even darker, ears heating up. “Can we talk, Jisungie?” Jaemin’s voice was a velvet caress. 

“Did you need something?” Jeno interrupted, voice sterile, sanitized, nothing like the tone he used with the rest of them. It surprised Jisung; he hadn’t known Jeno’s voice could sound so flat. 

“If it’s Jisung, I suggest you turn around and walk away,” Renjun added harshly. He was glaring at the intruder. 

Jaemin’s laugh was sweet, nothing like his impassive and intimidating exterior. “I won’t hurt him, Injoonie.” Wait what? Injoonie? Wasn’t that Renjun’s nickname from Jeno…?

Jeno’s foot nudged Jisung’s under the table, silently probing for discomfort. The offer to make Jaemin go away was up in the air; it would be so easy for Jisung to take Jeno up on it.

Instead, Jisung shook his head fractionally, telling Jeno it was okay. Instantly, his hyungs backed down, Mark having stayed quiet the whole time. He shot Jisung a small smile as the younger stood up, still avoiding meeting Jaemin’s heavy gaze. 

Spurred on by the thumbs up that Mark flashed him, Jisung turned to face Jaemin, actually looking at him properly, and was reminded why he’d (maybe) fallen for him the first time. 

“Do you mind if we go outside?” Jaemin asked, picking up Jisung’s backpack for him, making the younger blush again. Jisung scrubbed furiously at his reddened cheeks with a sweater paw. Dammit, the betrayal was real, he thought childishly, mentally chastising his body. 

“Nope, “ Jisung replied, sounding strangled, trying to play off the blush. Judging by Renjun’s skeptical look, he probably didn’t do a good job. 

Blushing even more now, Jisung made a grab for his baby blue backpack, but Jaein held it out of his reach, chuckling softly. 

“Let me take care of you, yeah?” He said quietly, sending Jisung a sweet smile. There they went again with the game...Jisung knew that Jaemin was sweeter than his persona; he just never knew when the sweetness was actually genuine or if it was a different persona. 

Choosing not to dwell on it, Jisung didn’t deny the elder, but instead, nodded and stepped back, mumbling a thank you. If Jaemin was willing to carry his 9 kg backpack, regardless of the motive, Jisung wasn’t going to say anything to change his mind. 

“Don’t hurt him, Na,” Jeno threatened, as Jisung turned to wave bye to the hyungs. Jisung studied their faces for a second, noticing that Renjun was progressively looking more and more upset the longer Jaemin lingered.

“I won’t make a mistake like that again, Jen,” Jaemin murmured, eyes saddening. That was another Noren nickname...but why did Jaemin sound so sad? Frowning, he glanced over at Mark, a question in his eyes. 

They have some history, Mark mouthed, making Jisung wonder. He was starting to think that maybe...

Really? Like what? He mouthed back.

  It’s better if you ask them. 

Now Jisung was really curious. But he just mentally shrugged it off, fisted bumped Mark, before walking over to Jeno and Renjun, hugging the Chinese boy first, then Jeno. 

“I’ll be okay, Jeno-hyung,” He murmured in his ear, giggling a little when Jeno flinched away from him, goosebumps appearing on his arms. 

“Yah!” he shouted, making everyone except Jaemin laugh. When Jisung looked over at him with a questioning look, Jaemin smiled, but it looked forced, much too tight at the corners. 

“Come on, Sungie.” Jaemin’s hand rested on the small of his back, gently guiding him out of the cafeteria. Before they left, though, Jisung looked back over his shoulder and could have sworn Renjun was crying. 

~

The walk outside was relatively quiet, neither of them saying much to each other. Jaemin still hadn’t given him his backpack bac, so Jisung felt rather awkward walking down the hall next to him. He didn’t want anyone to think that he was incapable of carrying his own stuff. Jisung really didn’t need to give everyone another reason to believe he was weak. 

“Hey, I can carry my-” Jisung was interrupted by Jaemin tugging him into one of the side stairwells. “-bag. Jaemin, what are we doing?” Surely they weren’t going to makeout in the stairwell...

Jaemin slid him a lazy grin, full of mischief and wickedness. “Ever skipped school before?” 

Jisung just blinked at him before shaking his head. “No…?”

“Well,” Jaemin drawled, “Haechannie just called the office, looks like you’ve got a nasty stomach ache, threw up in the hallway and everything.” Jaemin winked at Jisung, before pulling out a pack of tropical flavored gum and popping one in his mouth. When Jisung just stared at him, Jaemin chuckled. 

“Want one, Sungie?” Jaemin asked, smirking as he blew a bubble, acting as if he hadn’t just offered to ditch school with him. 

“Are you serious?” Jisung gaped, quirking an eyebrow at him. The shock was quickly fading away, suspicion taking its place. It’d be a typical Jaemin move to lie to him over it. Well, typical bad-Jaemin move , his brain quietly reminded him. Then he berated himself for thinking that. There’s only one Jaemin, he corrected.

Jaemin pouted at him before blowing him a kiss. “Aw, does baby think I lied to him?” He teased, eyeing Jisung with an odd glint in his eyes. Really, it was insane how quickly Jaemin could flip the switch into his bad boy persona. Sometimes even Jisung had trouble picking them apart. 

“I’m not your ‘baby’, Jaemin,” Jisung retorted, scowling at him and crossing his arms. 

“Not yet,” Jaemin chirped cheerfully, sounding for all the world like an adorable teenager, but his smirk told a different story, and it was really starting to become infuriating. 

“Oh shut up.” Jisung glared at him, before mentally checking himself. See, this is why they needed to talk. 

Jisung longed for the older boy whenever he wasn’t around, but always griped about him when he was. He was always so infuriatingly flirty yet distant, then Jaemin would drop the act and be as sweet and loving as Jisung knew him to be. 

Technically, they never confirmed that they were an item nor did they deny it. As far as the school was concerned, however, they weren’t. Hence why Jisung got teased so much. If they had been considered dating, he’d be untouchable, a member of the high school royal court. Not that Jisung cared. The royalty was overrated (sorry Mark, Jeno, Haechan, Lucas, and Renjun hyungs). 

But Jaemin wasn’t overrated, not to Jisung. Which both baffled and amazed him. 

Jaemin poked his cheek, pulling him back to Earth and away from the Relationship Crisis Planet. “Earth to cutiepie? Hello?” He wrapped an arm around the younger shoulders, beaming. 

“Ick gross,” Jisung protested, darting under Jaemin’s outstretched arm. 

“Did you really just say ‘ick gross’ out loud?” Jaemin teased, smiling at him. The older ran his fingers through his auburn hair, shoving it back out of his face. The action really shouldn’t have made Jisung swoon but oops, oh well. 

“Yes, I did, as a matter of fact, and you found it adorable, so don’t pretend, “ Jisung retorted, crossing his arms and pouting. To his surprise, Jaemin actually blushed, looking down at his feet. 

“A-anyway,” the older stuttered, making Jisung giggle. He wasn’t used to a flustered Jaemin! “I’ll take you out for ice cream again,” Jaemin offered, voice stabilizing a little, but still remaining softer, sweeter, less forced. It was the voice of the Jaemin that Jisung had fallen for. The real Jaemin. 

“Okay,” Jisung agreed, nodding at the junior, making him light up. “That sounds lovely.” 

“Yay!” Jaemin laughed, smiling brightly. “We’re gonna have a great date this time, Jisungie, I promise!” Jisung’s heart cooed over the complete 180, while his brain quietly reminded him of something. 

“But,” Jisung added, levelling Jaemin with a serious look, “we’re gonna have a talk, too. “ He almost laughed when Jaemin’s face fell. “We really need to talk though, okay? I know you hate talking about feelings, but we can’t keep doing this half-dating thing. We’ve been doing it for nearly six months. “ 

He glanced over at Jaemin to see if he was actually paying attention. Every time they’d try to have this conversation, Jaemin completely shut down, 

This time, though, Jaemin was smiling faintly, not frowning like he usually did. 

“Okay,” Jaemin said quietly, after staring into Jisung’s eyes for a moment. “We can talk.” He frowned for a second. “I’m sorry I refused to, before,” he added earnestly, begging Jisung to understand with his eyes. 

And Jisung did. He knew there were layers to Jaemin that he hadn’t seen before, pieces of his past that he didn’t know about, things that they’d need to discuss. Jisung understood the feeling of needing more time. He needed to do some reflecting, himself, about who they’d be in a year, who he wanted to be with Jaemin. What they’d do when Jaemin went to college. 

But right now? Jisung knew what he wanted. He’d danced around it for half a year, played hard to get when all he wanted was that one, irresistible thing. That one person. 

He wanted Na Jamein, bad boy supreme, member of the royal court of SM Highschool. He wanted the flirty, yet sweet, dork who was staring him in the eyes right in that moment. 

And so the pastel boy slipped his hand into the bad boy’s own, pecking him on the cheek, making the latter freeze. The pastel boy giggled, before punching the other’s arm playfully. He wrapped himself around the other’s arm, giggling again. 

“Now give me my goddamn bag back and let’s go get our ice cream!” 

Chapter Text

Standing on stage was the most magical feeling in the world, Chenle decided. It didn’t matter how many comebacks he’d participated in, how many music shows they’d all been in, concerts they’d had: being on stage in front of their czennies was amazing. 

The experience itself was indescribable. It wasn’t one emotion or one sensation, but rather a combination of all of them. The sweat dripping down the back of his neck, falling onto his mic pack. The fanchants being screamed through the venue, the blinding stage lights, the pounding of his heart as he danced with the rest of the dreamies, body twisting and contorting gracefully, popping and locking neatly. The beautiful high notes Haechan, Renjun, and him had, the low, husky sounds of Jaemin, Jeno, and Jisung’s voices when they rapped. 

All in all, it was pure joy that he felt when he performed that fueled him as an artist and an idol. But it hadn’t always been easy.

4 years ago: (February, 2015)

“Gege, I wanna go home!” Chenle sobbed into Renjun’s arms. They were holed up in their dorm room that they shared with Sicheng, Yukhei, and Kun, the Chinese members forced to room together. Not that they necessarily minded, though; sometimes, it was nice to be surrounded by Cantonese and Mandarin, to hear the sounds of home. 

Posters of Lay from Exo, Zi Tao, Lu Han, all decorated Renjun’s walls, along with other Kpop/Cpop stars. Yukhei’s Avengers posters decorated the plain grey wall next to his bunk bed, while Kun and Sicheng preferred to leave their walls blank. 

Chenle’s, though, had pictures from China, picture of home, and pictures of his friends. The wall above his little cot, shoved up against the wall, was his comfort space, his reminder that not everything was against him. 

It was hard to be a foreign idol, in any company. Foreigners were always scrutinized very carefully for any and every mistake, to find a flaw in their Korean, their dancing, their rapping or singing. To call them ugly or untalented. And it was especially hard under SM. Why? Because SM was known for the mistreatment of idols, to deny them freedom of expression, to deny them basic human rights.

They’d had so many lawsuits for it, too. Tao, Luhan, Hangeng, Jaejoong, Yoochun, Xia, the list was long. Their mistreatment was obvious, sometimes. Just in SM Rookies alone, Chenle could tell that it would be hard for them. 

They’d already been told the rules. When in future venues and talk shows, there would be no Chinese, no English, no Japanese, just Korean. Even if they weren’t rolling. The foreign members wouldn’t be allowed speak up without it being in the script. They were to be controlled, from day to night, until they got into the dorms, until the cameras and staff were gone. Sure, the Korean members were controlled a lot too, but not as much as the foreign members. 

He and Renjun weren’t even part of SM Rookies, either. SM always published the list of Rookies and the date that they joined the company. Chenle knew that, to the public, Renjun and the other foreign members, as well as himself, didn’t exist at all. 

Chenle would never resent his hyungs or Jisungie for it, never, but he just got tired of it sometimes. And sometimes it just felt good to cry, to just be sad over mindless little things. 

“Why do you want to go home, Lele?” Renjun murmured in his ear, lips brushing over the shell of it, the sound of mandarin calming the younger down significantly. They had these talks every week or so, usually with Chenle as the one being held. Very rarely did Renjun break down, the older usually standing strong, no matter what. 

Chenle took a deep breath, to rattle down every little, stupid thing that had been on his mind. “My Korean sucks, Donghyuck hates me, Ten and Yuta are scary, Jaemin and Yukhei are too loud, Jeno’s always judging me, Jisungie never talks to me, Jaeyong are gross, Mark is never around, I miss home and, “ he paused to catch his breath, “what if we don’t debut together?” Chenle finished, voice barely audible, despite the stifling silence in the room. 

“Oh, Lele,” Renjun murmured, pulling him closer to his chest, in what was supposed to be comforting, yet all Chenle could feel was Renjun’s ribs, sharp and bony against his side. “Is that all that’s bugging you?” 

Chenle just nodded. 

“Okay then, “Renjun continued, clasping his hands together and shooting Chenle a sweet smile, “let’s go talk to the other teens first!” he stood up, sticking his hand out for Chenle to grab. 

The younger paled. “Wait what?” he shrieked, as Renjun dragged him out of their room and toward 3J’s dorm. They’d only been trainees together for a few months, barely even talking to each other, actually, because schedules sucked like that.  “Renjun!” he hissed as the older knocked on the door. He furiously scrubbed at the tear tracks on his cheeks. 

“This is the best way to prove you wrong,” Renjun replied, shooting Chenle another sweet smile. “I know you don’t believe me anyway, when I tell you it.” Another serene smile, this time with his adorable snaggletooth on full display. 

“I just wanted to cry,” Chenle mumbled, wrapping himself around the older’s arm. “If I tell them, they’ll think I’m a stupid little kid.” 

“No they won-” Renjun was cut off by Jisung opening the door, wielding his phone’s flashlight, and blinking owlishly at them. 

“Why would we think you’re stupid, hyung?” The maknae asked, looking half asleep. Chenle supposed he would, when it was nearly midnight. 

“No reason,” He mumbled, shielding himself behind Renjun’s body, trying to hide from the other’s curious gaze. 

“Chenle,” Renjun murmured, poking his side a little. “Go talk to them,” he said in Mandarin. “It’ll help, I promise.” When Chenle whined, Renjun huffed a little laugh. “Go!” 

Chenle awkwardly detached himself from the other’s arm, allowing Jisung to tug him into 3J’s dorm, making him shuffle his feet around. Jaemin and Jeno were peering down at him from Jaemin’s bunk bed, making Chenle wonder why they were up there together. 

“Lele?” Jeno murmured, looking half asleep in the glow from Jisung’s flashlight. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, groaning slightly. Chenle was starting to feel guilty now...

“Um…hi?” His voice cracked a little on the last word. 

“Is something wrong?” Now Jaemin was sitting up too, his hair a tousled mess. 

“Maybe?” Chenle was going to die of embarrassment right this instant. 

“C’mere,” Jaemin mumbled, blinking the sleep out of his eyes as he climbed down the ladder. Chenle rushed into the older’s arms, trying to hold back his pointless tears. He couldn’t help it, really. If anyone offered him a hug, he was incapable of rejecting it. 

“What’s wrong, Chenle?” He murmured into his hair. Jaemin’s arms were bony, but his hug was warm so Chenle cuddled in closer. Screw it, he might debut with Jaemin later, might as well get it out now…

“I’m really just being sad,” He mumbled into Jaemin’s chest as Jeno climbed down the ladder too, guiding the pair to sit on Jisung’s bed. The youngest let out a little whine, but cuddled up behind Chenle anyway, spooning him while Jaemin hugged his front. Jeno settled up near the headboard, petting Chenle’s hair. 

“Why are you being sad, Lele, mm?” Jeno asked. Chenle was momentarily taken aback by the obvious affection in Jeno’s voice. Why would the older care about him? They’d barely even talked! 

“I guess I’m not, not really,” Chenle mumbled. When Jisung snorted, he kicked the younger‘s leg. “I’m scared for debuting and not being enough,” he added, this time even quieter. 

“I think we’re all scared to debut,” Jaemin mused, after a few minutes of silence. “I know I am. I think it’s part of being a trainee. You never know who you’ll debut with.” He looked up at Jeno for a second, the older giving him a small smile. 

“I agree with Jaemin,” Jeno added, smoothing Chenle’s bangs back away from his face. “It’s scary, and you don’t want to form bonds you might have to break.” His smile was crooked, eyes thoughtfully sad. 

“But,” Jeno continued, “I don’t think you should let fear rule your life. Make friends, live your life, truly enjoy being a trainee. I’m sure they’ll tell us soon who’s debuting together, anyway. Even if you lose us, won’t you enjoy getting there with us?”

Chenle whined. Jeno made too much sense sometimes. The older just cooed, pressing a kiss to Chenle’s forehead, making him blush. Jisung snorted, while Jaemin just laughed. 

“Do you want a kiss too, Jisungie?” Jeno teased, blowing a kiss at the maknae. Jisung just scrunched his face up cutely, making Chenle giggle. 

“Cute,” he told Jisung, turning around to cuddle him instead. Jaemin whined, but happily cuddled Chenle’s back instead. 

Chenle really didn’t know why he’d been upset earlier, he realized. It wasn’t like he didn’t kind of know the other trainees, or that he didn’t like them. He just didn’t know how to act, how to think enough of himself. Chenle had no idea what a trainee had to be, what he needed to be. Idols had to be good dancers, good singers, good rappers, good people, but what did trainee have to be? What did they have to prepare for? They always said being a trainee was harder than being an idol because you never knew what was coming. 

“Do you hate me, hyungs?” Chenle murmured. 

“No!” Jeno protested quickly, his worried eyes appearing above Chenle’s head. “I would never!” Jaemin just sleepily whined. 

Somewhat assured, Chenle cuddled Jisung tighter. The younger boy was his favorite, he decided. He nuzzled into the other’s chest, feeling sleep start to tug at the corners of his eyes. 

A soft creak from the door caused Jeno shuffle around a bit on the bed up by Chenle’s head. 

“You can come cuddle too, Renjunnie.” Chenle felt the mattress sink as Renjun joined them, before sleep overtook him. 

Chenle was woken up the next morning by an incredibly loud shriek. Donghyuck was lying across all of them, wrestling with Jaemin, yelling about not being cuddled too. 

“You all decided to cuddle and didn’t invite me?” The vocalist shrieked, punching Jaemin’s shoulder again and rolling around on top of the others, making Renjun curse. 

“Ow, Donghyuck, what the fuck,” Renjun muttered in Chinese, sitting up in the covers and glaring at the younger. Chenle just watched the other give Renjun a cheeky smile before going back to harassing the rest of them. Lots of screaming and shouting ensued. 

Jeno, ever the peacemaker, managed to haul Donghyuck off of them after a while, setting the vocalist on the floor and wrapping his arms around him, hugging him from the back. 

“Morning, Hyuckie,” Jeno murmured into his neck, cuddling the younger. Chenle giggled when Donghyuck purred like a cat, nestling into Jeno’s hold. 

 “What time is it,” Jisung moaned, making everyone look over at him. The maknae was lying flat on his stomach, face buried in a pillow. 

 “10 am, which is too fucking early so go back to sleep or shut the hell up!” Ten yelled through the walls, making the boys burst into giggles. 

 “He does know that 10 is late right?” Jaemin asked, rubbing his arm ruefully and glaring at Donghyuck. 

 “Grandpa Ten gets grumpy when he’s tired,” Donghyuck replied cheekily, grinning at the younger boy innocently. 

 “I heard that, you little shit!” Ten yelled back, causing another giggle fit. 

Once everyone had calmed down, Renjun poked Jisung until the younger woke up again. 

“It’s our schedule-free day today,” he announced, scrolling through the messages on his phone. The oldest flashed the screen at Chenle, who just barely managed to read the message from their manager before Renjun was pulling it away again. 

“Cool,” Jisung muttered, flipping over and wrapping his arms around Chenle, before promptly going back to sleep. Chenle just happily snuggled into the warmth. 

“What do you guys want to do?” Renjun asked, looking up from his phone. 

“Get drunk,” Donghyuck chirped, beaming. “It’d be so fun, like-”

“You’re 16, Donghyuck,” Jaemin deadpanned, staring at the other boy judgmentally. 

“And? Your point is?” 

“Oh never mind,” Jaemin huffed. “You’ll never understand anyway.” He made grabby hands at Renjun, begging the older to cuddle him. The Chinese huffed and sighed, but Chenle saw the contentment in his eyes when Jaemin plopped his head into Renjun’s lap. 

“No, seriously!” Donghyuck protested. “Why can’t we get drunk?!” 

“We’re 16, Hyuck, Chenle’s 15, and Jisung is 15 too for crying out loud,” Jaemin exclaimed incredulously. 

“I still don’t understand why we can’t get drunk. Normal teenagers can get drunk whenever, so why can’t we?” 

“We’re not normal teenagers! We can’t get drunk!” Jaemin half-shouted back. 

“Well I wanna!” 

“No!” 

“Let me get drunk for gods sake, Jaemin! Let me live a little!” 

“Hey guys, do you know where Donghyuck-” Mark poked his head through the door, before stopping in his tracks. “Hi Hyuckie, who’s getting drunk?” The blond ran a hand through his already messy hair. 

“No one!” All the boys chirped simultaneously, making Mark frown suspiciously. 

“Uh huh, okay.” The Canadian slipped into the room and closed the door. His eyes were glued to Donghyuck in Jeno’s arms, while Donghyuck studiously avoided his gaze.  Everyone else just stared at them awkwardly. 

“Do you, uh, have a day off too, hyung?” Chenle asked him, trying to break the tension. Mark was known for constantly being on schedule, the teenager was planned to debut in at least 3 different lineups. What lineups, though, was still a mystery. 

“What?” Mark asked, looking away from Donghyuck. “Oh, uh, yeah, sorta. I don’t have a schedule until like 5 today but it runs all night but it’s still something so I guess I don’t have a day off,” he rambled in English. 

Everyone just stared at him. Renjun broke the silence first. “In Korean please.” Mark flushed, but repeated himself. 

“We were debating what we should do today,” Jeno informed him, letting go of Donghyuck and sitting on the bed next to Renjun and Jaemin. “Donghyuck suggested-” Jeno was cut off by the aforementioned boy slamming his hand over his mouth, making the boy groan. 

“I suggested nothing,” Donghyuck told Mark, laughing nervously.

Mark stared at all of them, looking completely confused. His eyes traveled over Jisung’s curled up form, wrapped around Chenle, who was watching the whole exchange with wide eyes, to Renjun’s amused look, Jaemin’s head in his lap, hair being petted. Finally, he stared at Donghyuck and Jeno, the latter of which rubbing his jaw and wincing. 

“Okay,” he said, dragging out the last syllable. “Did you decide on anything?” 

“We could play spin the bottle!” Donghyuck announced, smiling. “Or strip poker!” 

“16 years old, Hyuck,” Jaemin reminded him, sounding exasperated. 

“What?!” Mark shrieked. 

“You know, whoever it lands on kisses someone else-“ 

“What?!?!?!” 

“Or if you lose a hand you have to take off a piece of your clothes-“ 

“What is he talking about?! Is he ok?!” 

“Don’t worry,” Jeno tried to placate, smiling at Mark. “I’m sure he’s just joking-“ 

“He’s high again,” Renjun interrupted, typing something out on his phone with one hand, the other one still petting Jaemin. 

“He’s WHAT?!” If it was possible, Mark was even louder now, making even Chenle wince. “High?!” He screeched, right as Jeno yelled, “Wait, what do you mean again ?!” 

“Yup, again.” Jeno facepalmed beside Renjun. 

“No!” Donghyuck protested, at the same time. Chenle stared at the other boys. What the hell was going on? 

“Uh, yeah.” Jaemin chimed in, blinking blearily at the arguing boys. 

“How is he high?!” Mark looked panicked. He was staring at Donghyuck like the younger was going to spontaneously combust or grow two heads. “Where did he even get drugs?!” 

“Ask him,” Renjun replied, shrugging. 

“I’m not high!” Donghyuck yelled louder, glaring daggers at Renjun. Chenle just watched the whole exchange with wide eyes, darting back and forth between all the hyungs. Jaemin had his eyes closed and was smiling serenely, while Jeno looked stressed. Renjun looked smug, Donghyuck looked offended, and Mark looked highly panicked. Well, more panicked then he usually looked. Jisung, amazingly, was fast asleep again, despite the absolute chaos surrounding them. 

“Shut up!” Ten’s voice yelled again. “If you don’t shut up, I’ll fucking get Taeyong,” he threatened, making all the boys freeze. 

“Too late,” a voice sounded from the door. Chenle gulped, looking over at the door. Taeyong was standing in the doorway, frowning at all of them and rubbing his temples. 

“What the hell is going on in here?” He asked, planting his hands on his hips and glaring at all of them. Taeyong had his no-nonsense face on. 

“Aw shit,” Donghyuck mumbled. 

After a relatively long and intensive scolding from Taeyong and Ten both, the younger kids were free to go. Mark went off to practice, despite saying he wasn’t going to, just minutes earlier. The rest of the boys decided to just spend their day off watching Disney movies with subtitles on and cuddling in the middle of the floor. Chenle hadn’t voiced it, but he was glad to be spending time with other trainees his age. It’d be nice to form bonds with the others. Whether he wanted to admit it to himself or not, Chenle liked them and felt comfortable with them. 

Currently, Chenle and Jeno were struggling to build a pillow fort in the living room, while Jisung lounged on the couch, making comments every once and awhile. Jaemin and Donghyuck were cooking in the kitchen, while Renjun disappeared somewhere to pick out the movies. 

“This says that you have to use poles to keep the blanket up,” Jeno announced, holding up his phone and pointing to a website. 

“And where are we gonna get poles?” Chenle protested, shooting him an incredulous look. “We’re trainees, remember? We live in dorms, not the circus!” Jeno shot him a wounded look accompanied by a pout, making Chenle shrink back from the cuteness. Since when was Jeno so...cute? Did he just never notice? What was this feeling?

“Wow,” Jisung piped up, grinning wickedly. “Seems like Lele’s got some claws.” 

“Oh shut up, beanpole,” Chenle snorted, tossing a pillow over his shoulder in the general direction of the other. Giggling at the little ‘oof’ the other let out, he bent down to shuffle around the couch pillows spread out on the floor, before holding up a blanket and eyeing the walls of the dorm. Sicheng and Yuta had strung up fairy lights on little detachable hooks around the entire length of the dorm. 

“Hey, Jeno,” Chenle said slowly, an idea started to take shape in his mind, “Could we maybe tie the blankets to the hooks Ge and Hyung put-OW PARK JISUNG, YOU ARE SO DEAD!” Chenle whipped around to glare at the younger who was cackling in laughter. 

“Oh my god,” Jisung wheezed. “If you- could see your face- right now,” he heaved out, grasping his sides. Chenle stood up, brandishing the offending pillow menacingly. 

“Just you wait, Pwark Jisung,” he threatened. “I’ll get you back when you least expect it.” 

“Who’s getting who back for what? Can I join?” Donghyuck piped up, walking out of the kitchen with a Kiss The Cook apron on and a pan kimchi pancakes. 

“No one’s getting anyone back for anything,” Jeno replied, beating the two youngest to it. “Is breakfast ready?” Jeno had managed to tie up the blankets on his own, making a tent above the little tv area. The fairy lights were shining just below the blankets, lighting up the fort with a pleasant glow. Chenle smiled, giving the older a hug and a high-five. 

“If Nana gets his ass in gear, it would be,” Donghyuck replied loudly, looking pointedly back towards the kitchen. 

“My ass?!” Jaemin shrieked, running out of the kitchen, hot skillet in hand. “Are you serious, Lee Donghyuck?!” Chenle stared at Jaemin, as the other boy sent a murderous glare at the boy in question. “Who was gushing about Mark hyung the ENTIRE time while I made the kimchi pancakes that you’re holding?” 

Wait, gushing about Mark hyung? Donghyuck? Was Jaemin feeling okay? The two of them got on like water and oil. Donghyuck was always picking on Mark, while the older was always getting annoyed by him. Surely Chenle was misunderstanding the Korean? 

“Hey, did Jaemin say gushing about Mark hyung?” He murmured into Jeno’s ear, tugging the older down in order to reach him. 

“Yup,” Jeno replied, popping the ‘p’. He must have seen Chenle’s confusion because Jeno added, “They just pretend not to get along.” 

“Ah.” That made more sense, honestly. He turned his attention back to Donghyuck and Jaemin, who were still bickering. 

“I cooked more than you, you ungrateful child!” Jaemin announced, waving the (thankfully) empty skillet in Donghyuck’s face. 

“I’m older than you, you disrespectful brat!” 

“It’s literally one month! ” Jaemin retorted, rolling his eyes. 

“Two, actually, and that’s two months that make me older than you! Show me the respect I deserve, peasant!” 

Jaemin gasped affrontedly. “Did you just call me a peasant?!” He shrieked. Chenle stared at them with wide eyes. 

“I have a headache,” Jeno muttered. 

“Same,” Chenle agreed. 

“Weakness disgusts me,” Jisung announced, smirking down at Chenle and Jeno. “This is nothing.” 

Chenle gaped at him. “You have earplugs in!” 

“And?” Jisung crooked an eyebrow. “At least I was smart enough to bring them.” 

“You little!” Chenle jumped on the younger, tackling him and tickling him. 

If any of the other hyungs minded all the commotion that morning, no one said anything. 

Once everyone had settled down and eaten breakfast prepared by Jaemin (not Donghyuck), the boys all gathered in Chenle and Jeno’s pillow fort to watch the movies Renjun had picked out. 

Chenle was cuddled up with Jisung and Renjun, the younger’s arm wrapped around his waist, his head tucked into the dip between Chenle’s shoulder and neck. Renjun was sitting up, propped up by the couch, with Chenle’s head in his lap. The older was mindlessly running his fingers through the younger’s hair. Jeno and Jaemin was intertwined next to them, Jeno cuddled around Jaemin’s form. Donghyuck was lounging on the sole armchair inside the fort. 

The vocalist was acting nonchalant, but Chenle could tell, now that he knew to look for it, that Donghyuck was looking for Mark every time his eyes darted to the entrance of the fort. It made his heart hurt for the other, knowing he was longing for someone who wasn’t coming. 

It was weird to see Donghyuck so quiet and mellow, all the sass and confident persona stripped away, leaving a vulnerable teenager behind. Maybe Chenle had been too quick to judge the other trainees, maybe he had been a bit too quick to judge Donghyuck. 

As the opening song for The Little Mermaid began, Chenle gently disentangled himself from Jisung’s hold, sliding off of Renjun’s lap. He carefully worked his way through the mess of spread out limbs, making his way towards Donghyuck. 

Wordlessly, he tugged the vocalist off the chair and onto the floor with him, wrapping his arms around the older. Chenle felt Donghyuck stiffen in his arms, before relaxing into his gentle hold, dropping his head onto the younger’s shoulder. 

“Thank you,” Donghyuck murmured, voice so soft that Chenle barely heard him. 

Humming softly, Chenle gave him a little squeeze, pulling Donghyuck closer. He held the older, willing him to be happy, to not long for Mark. 

July 2015

“This fucking stings!” Chenle shrieked, nails digging into Jisung’s skin. The youngest was dutifully letting Chenle cling to him, patting his shoulder comfortingly every so often. 

“I told you it would!” Jaemin protested equally loudly, setting the bottle of bleach down on the bathtub’s edge. 

“You didn’t say it’d feel like someone was ripping my head apart!” Chenle turned his head to glare over his shoulder at the older boy, already regretting his decision to allow Jaemin to dye his hair. He thought it would be a good bonding experience, but the smile that Jaemin shot him, unsteady and slightly nervous, made him suspicious. Jaemin’s eyes were glued to Chenle’s, a guilty look starting to seep into them. 

“What,” Chenle breathed out, squinting at Jaemin. “Why are you looking at me like that.” 

“It’s-uh-nothing,” Jaemin exhaled, a nervous giggle escaping him. The older was slowly starting to back away. 

The voice crack made Jisung look up from his phone, the youngest perched on top of the closed toilet seat, oblivious to the nail-shaped marks in his arm. 

“What’s going on?” Jisung asked, looking at Jaemin, before his eyes landed on Chenle. The boy in question watched the youngest’s eyes widen, also staring into his eyes. Well actually...just above them.

“Na Jaemin,” Chenle hissed, glaring at the older boy, “what the hell did you just do?” 

Wordlessly, Jisung handed him his phone, the camera app open. Chenle took it, turning the camera to selfie mode, and screamed. 

“I am going to murder you, Jaemin!” he screeched, chasing after the older, who was already fleeing the bathroom, tossing Jisung’s phone to him. 

“JENO-HYUNG!” Jaemin screamed, racing through the dorm, dodging all the things spread out across the floor. Chenle was right behind him, towel starting to come off of his hair. “CHENLE’S TRYING TO KILL ME!” 

“I’m in the bedroom!” Jeno yelled back and, immediately, Jaemin turned around and ran around the back of the couch, running for his and Jeno’s room before Chenle could kill him. 

“DON’T YOU DARE HELP HIM, JENO!” Chenle shouted, cursing as he tripped over a pair of shoes in the hallway. He stumbled into Jeno’s bedroom door right as Jaemin slammed it shut, swearing and kicking at the door. 

Chenle could hear Jaemin and Jeno murmuring behind the door, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. He tugged on the handle, but it was locked, making him groan. Just as Chenle was debating getting Donghyuck to pick the lock for him, Jeno opened the door, stepping out into the hallway. He, too, did a double take when he saw Chenle, but Jeno was better at composing himself quickly. 

“I’m guessing this has to do with your lack of eyebrows?” The older smiled serenely at Chenle, making his heart flutter a little bit. No, dammit, Chenle thought, don’t fall for it! This is exactly what Jaemin wanted! Why do you think he went to Jeno?

“Yes,” Chenle grumbled, not looking the other in the eyes.

“You should probably talk to him about that,” Jeno advised, lips quirking up in a half smile. “Might help with your current predicament.” 

Chenle leveled an incredulous look at Jeno, crossing his arms and pouting. “You can’t be serious.” 

Jeno mocked his pout, making Chenle’s heart do that little leap again, before grinning. “I am serious.” He reached out for Chenle, placing his hand on the younger’s shoulder. “I really think it’ll be good for your relationship.” Jeno winked at Chenle, making the younger all kinds of flustered, before Chenle suddenly found himself in Jaemin’s room, facing a closed door. Staring incredulously at the door, Chenle tugged on the handle. Locked. How the fuck did he lock it from the outside?!

“You’re next, Lee Jeno!” Chenle shouted through the door, sending a pout in Jeno’s general direction, despite the older not actually being able to see him. 

A muffled “that’s fine!”, came through the door, Jeno’s mirth evident in the older’s tone. Chenle just groaned louder. 

“Are you actually going to kill me?” Jaemin’s timid voice came from behind him. Chenle turned around, looking for the older, but he was nowhere to be found. Instead, his eyes landed on the countless plushies on the top bunk, clothes all over the bottom bunk, and the simple curtains around the final bed. Something about the room felt cozy and...safe. It was quite peculiar. He hadn’t felt this way since China. 

Last time he’d been in 3J’s room, he hadn’t really looked around, too overcome with sadness to explore. Almost in a trance, Chenle walked around the room, fingers gliding over the end table covered in lotions and makeup supplies, tracing over a few random action figures. 

Now that he was closer to the free-standing bed, he could see the small polaroids pinned up carefully on a clothesline, peeking through the partially open curtain. Pictures of Jaemin and Jeno in high school, Renjun and Chenle smiling at noraebang, Jisung and Donghyuck cuddling on the couch, completely unaware of the camera trained on them. Chenle’s eyes were drawn to a picture of a girl, lying in the grass and making finger-hearts at the camera. She had crescent shaped eyes when she smiled. Looking closer, Chenle could see little words written in Hangul along the margin of the polaroid. Love forever, Nono. Hwaiting! ~Your sister. So this was Jeno’s bed, then. 

A plain purple blanket covered the bedsheets, a few small, embroidered pillows scattered near the headboard. Somehow, the bed just felt distinctly Jeno. 

The second floor-level bed was Jisung’s, that he knew. The youngest’s bed was unmade, sheets half pulled out, sweatshirts scattered around the base of the bed. There was nothing on the walls, no plushies or pillows to fill the bed with, just the white sheets from the company. Save for the clothes, it felt so...sterile, practically unlived in. Nothing like the sweet (if not shy) and caring boy he knew. Chenle had never realized just how much personality Jisung’s part of the room was lacking...he’d have to help remedy that. 

Chenle carefully folded Jisung’s clothes, placing them back at the base of the bed, before straightening the sheets, tucking in the loose corner. He perched at the top of Jisung’s bed, absently running his fingers over the single, white pillow, hugging it to his chest. 

He didn’t know what he was feeling. This sweet, calm feeling was filling his entire body, warming him from head to toe. Chenle felt content and comfortable here, surrounded by Jeno, Jaemin, and Jisung’s things, as strange as it sounded. It almost felt like...he loved this space because it was filled with his favorite people. Almost as if...he loved them. 

“Chenle?” Jaemin’s sweet voice cut through his musings. 

“Mm?” 

“Are you still mad at me?” 

“No. Does it look that bad?” Suddenly, he was fearful that the older wouldn’t find him cute anymore. 

“Nope,” Jaemin replied quietly.  “You still look cute.” His tone was almost wistful. “I’m sorry I did that to you though.”

“Aw, hyung, it’s okay,” Chenle muttered, shuffling his feet around and clutching the pillow tighter. The gooey feeling in his chest was still lingering, making it rather hard to stay mad at Jaemin, even if the older had cost him his eyebrows. “And you don’t have to lie to me.” 

“You do look cute!” Chenle found himself suddenly engulfed by Jaemin, the older materializing out of literal nowhere, wrapping his arms around him and cooing. His cheek was smushed up against the other boy’s relatively broad chest, Jaemin’s arms around his waist. Tentatively, Chenle wrapped his own arms around other boy’s waist, threading them around the older. If anything, the gooeyness in his chest just increased tenfold. I can do this, he thought, smiling faintly. This is nice. 

“You smell like bleach,” Jaemin murmured into Chenle’s hair, shattering the sweetness of the moment, making the younger giggle. 

“You just bleached my hair, you goof.” 

“I know but,” Jaemin sniffed at Chenle’s neck, making the younger freeze, flush, and erupt with goosebumps, “you also smell sweet.” He paused, nose still touching Chenle’s neck, fluffy hair tickling the younger’s ear. 

Just let me die now, Chenle screeched mentally, full-on panicking the longer Jaemin lingered.  I’m ready to die. Dying in Na Jaemin’s arms can’t be that bad, right? I’m ready, kill me now before I make an absolute fool of myself. 

“Grapefruit!” Jaemin announced suddenly, snapping his fingers and drawing his head back from Chenle’s neck, making the younger nearly sob with relief. “You smell like grapefruit!” Jaemin’s arms were still looped around his waist, but at least now Chenle could breathe. 

“T-that’s my s-shampoo,” Chenle stuttered, embarrassment immediately setting in. He was sure his cheeks were flaming red right now. 

“Hm,” Jaemin hummed, tugging Chenle closer to him once again and resting his chin atop the younger’s head. “Well it smells good.” And, I’m ready to die again. 

They stood there in comfortable silence, relishing in the other’s closeness. Chenle’s heart had slowed its frantic beating a little bit, allowing the younger to breathe a little and enjoy the moment. He didn’t want to think about the implications of what he was doing or the revelations he’d had in this room today. Right now, Chenle was just content to stay in Jaemin’s arms. 

September 2015 

Vocal training was a special kind of hell. The recording rooms were small and cramped, as befitting a music studio, but the wall decor didn’t help. The drab, grey walls were covered in pictures of all the best, most successful artists under SM, intimidating and beautiful, staring down the trainees. It was almost as if the company was taunting them, dangling the prospects of success in their face. 

But the decoration skills of the staff wasn’t the only upsetting thing. 

Chenle was known for having a higher pitched voice. It was just part of him, nothing to be ashamed of. Heck, his parents used to hold mini concerts for him as a little kid because he was that good of a singer. His voice shouldn’t have been a problem. 

And yet? People still made fun of him for it. Some of the other trainees loved to pick on him for every voice crack, every squeak, every little ‘dolphin shriek’ that he made. Because of them, Chenle hated his voice after every session. 

The universe wasn’t kind enough to him to place him in recording sessions with any of his dormmates (read: friends/crushes/sources of his gay panic). No, he had to train with the assholes who would have to be hella good actors in order to become idols because, really, who could stan someone like that? 

Frowning when he missed another note, Chenle yanked his headphones off, the backing track still audible through the speakers from how loud he was running it. He’d stayed overtime and it was starting to show. It shouldn’t be showing. Idols were expected to sing and dance for lengthy periods of time. Chenle wasn’t even dancing! Shoving a hand through his hair in frustration, he winced when his fingers caught on a tangle. 

“Goddammit, Zhong Chenle,” he huffed, slamming his body back up against the studio wall, rolling his eyes over to look at the poster on the wall. 

Lee Taemin greeted his eyes, member of SHINee, one of the best dancers in the kpop industry. Yet another successful idol who gave zero shits about what anyone thought. Why can’t I be like that? 

Letting his head loll to the side, Chenle sighed, slowly sliding down the wall to sit on the floor, one leg propped up, one stretched out in front of him. 

Now that the music wasn’t hammering into his head, the studio seemed suffocatingly silent. Judging by the lack of lighting through the window across the hall (when had it gotten so dark?), it was already well past dinner time. Jisung would be looking for him by now. 

They were supposed to meet up and go out for bubble tea after his training, but after the aforementioned training, Chenle just kinda...forgot. Well, not forgot. He was too overcome with shame in his performance that he stayed longer. Like always. He hoped the younger wouldn’t be too mad. 

It’s okay, he told himself. It’s not like Jisung missed you anyway. He’s got the hyungs, Jeno, Jaemin, Hyuck, and Renjun. Mark, maybe, if he’s home for once. He doesn’t need you. And even if he did, it’s not like this is the first time you’ve disappointed him anyway. I’m sure you’ll do it again. 

The top of the moon was beginning to show through the window outside, illuminating the studio with its faint glow. Music thrummed through the discarded headphones, its sound an insistent buzz of bass. If he focused enough, Chenle could make out the melody he’d been singing for hours. The melody he’d been singing wrong for hours. 

Under the gaze of SM’s artists, Chenle wordlessly picked up his headphones, turned up the volume, and began to sing once again. 

The soft light of dawn filtered through the dorm’s curtains, falling gently onto two boys curled up together on the couch, limbs intertwined, blanket pooled on the ground beside them. One had soft, curly blond hair, recording headphones still wrapped around his neck. He was fully dressed, clad in jeans and a sweatshirt, sneakers still on. The other boy was much more appropriately dressed, pajama pants and a loose t-shirt adorning his skinny frame. 

As it was, the blond boy was using the dark haired boy as a pillow, sprawled out on top of the taller. Quiet, squeaky snores were emanating out of the smaller as the other played on his phone, resting it on the blond boy’s head. 

The dark haired boy paused his game, looking down at his chest to study the other’s features. The gentle slope of his nose, his cheekbones still covered in adorable baby fat. Smiling, he gently brushed one of the blond curls off the other’s forehead, freezing when the other boy began to stir. 

“Mm?” the blond whined, eyes crackling open to stare at the darker boy. 

“Go back to sleep, Lele,” the other boy whispered, breathing out a sigh of relief when Chenle did. 

“Love you,” the blond murmured, before curling his fingers into the other’s shirt and nestling his head into the other’s neck. 

The dark haired boy stared down at the older in shock for what felt like forever, his phone still clasped in his left hand. The city was starting to awaken by the time he unfroze, cars starting to honk their horns in the early morning traffic. 

Setting his phone down, the dark haired boy gently wrapped his arms around Chenle, carefully adjusting the other’s body utop his. Smiling softly, he tilted his head and pressed a kiss to the blond’s forehead, smoothing another wayward curl out of the way. 

“I love you too, Chenle,” Jisung murmured.

October 2015 

Chenle was lounging on Renjun’s bed scrolling through the SM Rookies’ social media account. He and Renjun weren’t officially part of the group or promotions, but it was nice to see his boyfriend perform on the Disney channel every once in a while. Jisung always managed to look adorable. 

Renjun and Jaemin were curled up together on the Sicheng’s bed (since the older didn’t mind), cuddling. The other Chinese boy looked absolutely euphoric to have Jaemin all over him, having confessed to the younger earlier that week. Chenle truly was happy for them, but for some reason, his heart panged just a little when Jaemin pressed kisses to Renjun’s cheek. Frowning at the unwanted thoughts, he turned back to his phone, glad that Sicheng’s bed had bars to hide the others from view. 

Chenle opened and watched the Rookies’ Under the Sea performance, nearly cringing through the second hand embarrassment of seeing Doyoung and Ten sing a Disney song. Somehow, Disney and his two hyungs just didn’t fit together in Chenle’s mind, the pair being way too cynical and sarcastic to ever be found in Disney. Jaehyun and Mark, however, fit Disney rather well in his opinion. Mark was honestly like a big puppy: blond, rather loud, always excitedly hyper. Jaehyun wasn’t any different, just sweeter and less awkward. 

When Johnny popped out wearing a gigantic fish head, holding a gigantic teddy bear, Chenle couldn’t hold in his laughter, laughing so hard that Renjun and Jeno looked over, the latter having been folding clothes quietly on the corner of Chenle’s own bed. 

“You okay?” Renjun asked, quirking an eyebrow at the younger inquisitively. 

“Fine,” Chenle wheezed, holding his sides as he tried to catch his breath, “just watching Johnny walk around in a fish head.” Jeno and Jaemin both sputtered at that, Jeno looking embarrassed and Jaemin looking smug. 

“You found that performance?!” Jeno shrieked, lunging next to Chenle to stare at his phone screen. Chenle giggled when the older groaned at himself, video-Jeno appearing briefly. “I hated that,” he grumbled sullenly, plopping his head down on Chenle’s shoulder. “That was the most humiliating thing I’ve ever done.” 

“I don’t know,” Jaemin remarked, grinning impishly down at them. “I thought you looked rather cute.” 

“Ditto,” Renjun added, mumbling into Jaemin’s chest. Jeno just whined louder, making Chenle giggle more. 

“Aw, hyung, “he cooed, fluffing Jeno’s hair and squeezing him. “It’s not so bad.” 

“Mm hm.” Jeno seemed unconvinced, but at least his ears weren’t as red now. Cooing again, Chenle turned his attention back to the video to watch Jisung’s dance solo. As he watched, Jeno’s head slowly slid down off his shoulder and onto his chest. The older then proceeded to cuddle in closer, even hooking a leg over Chenle’s hip. 

Not daring to move at all, he carefully looked down, noting that Jeno’s eyes were closed, his breathing steady. Falling asleep, then. Honestly, the cuddling he didn’t mind. He was a cuddly person already, plus skinship was major with his dormmates, especially the ones his age. And his friends...gosh, don’t even get him started. Jaemin, Hyuck, and Jeno craved cuddles like starved men. 

The sound of a camera shutter going off made Chenle whip his head over to stare up at the boys on the other bed, video completely forgotten. Sure enough, Renjun was smiling at him serenely, phone still tilted down towards him and Jeno, Jaemin snickering at his side. 

Blackmail, Jaemin mouthed gleefully, smirking at Chenle. Jisungie’s gonna love this.

You wish, Chenle retorted, sticking his tongue out very maturely. Fine, so they had a picture of them cuddling. So what? Jisung wasn’t going to be jealous. You think, his brain helpfully tacked on. Chenle immediately shut it down. He’d seen Jisung admiring Jeno before, surely the younger wouldn’t care. Also, he wasn’t above being petty with Jaemin. Two could play that game. 

Forget me, he mouthed, raising an eyebrow at Jaemin. Maybe you’ll both finally realize you want Jeno in your rel- Chenle was cut off by a loud yawn from Jeno, the boy sitting up from his comfortable position utop Chenle and stretching, shirt riding up, revealing Jeno’s abs. 

Chenle froze, desperately trying not to stare at the exposed skin. You have a boyfriend, he repeated, one that you love very much. You truly love Jisungie, it’s a fact. You can’t go crushing on Jeno.

Lucky for him, however, Jaemin and Renjun both seemed to be having a similar problem, the pair’s eyes glued to Jeno’s skin. The boy in question stared at them questioningly, making Renjun glance away quickly, while Jaemin just winked. Chenle was starting to feel really hot. Was it hot in here? It was totally hot. 

He tugged at his shirt collar absentmindedly, as Jeno stumbled around the room, still half asleep, looking for his gym bag that he’d tossed somewhere when he first came in. 

A thick silence filled the room, the tension obvious to literally everyone except Jeno, the cause of this whole mess. Renjun and Jaemin were whispering in the upper bunk bed, Renjun’s ears still tipped with red. Chenle caught the words “maybe we should tell him” and “he doesn’t like us like that”, making him freeze.

He wanted Renjun and Jaemin to be happy, of course. He loved Renjun with his entire being, the older was his anchor to home, his best friend, practically his brother, and Jaemin was awesome, too, the other boy always making everyone smile. And Jeno, he knew, loved Renjun and Jaemin. It wasn’t even a question. Yet, for some reason, if they were to date Jeno...Chenle didn’t think his heart could handle it. Yup, he was gonna have a hard-core teenage angst session tonight. 

“Jeno, I want to go to the gym with you,” Chenle announced out of the blue, looking over at the older as he gathered his things to put in his gym bag. The minute he said it, he regretted it. Now he’d have to 1.) Work out and 2.) Watch Jeno work out. On second thought, though, maybe the second option wouldn’t be too bad... No! Think of Jisung! What the hell is wrong with you?! 

“Okay,” Jeno replied, flipping his dark bangs back to smiling at Chenle. 

Renjun, however, immediately looked suspicious.  

“Why?” He asked, peering down at the younger with one eyebrow raised. “You hate working out.” 

Chenle sputtered for a minute, trying to come up with a valid excuse. “I want to get better, then.” Judging by Renjun’s amused expression, it was pretty obvious what he was doing. “Besides,” Chenle scrambled to add, “I can pick up Jisungie from the dance studio too.” Damn, he really hoped his boyfriend would be practicing right now. 

“Come on, Chenle, deep breaths.” Jeno was rubbing circles into Chenle’s back, the younger collapsed on the floor in fetal position, gasping and coughing. Sweat was pouring off of him in rivulets, his blond hair clumped against his forehead. He could feel his shirt clinging to him wetly, but if Jeno minded, he certainly didn’t say anything. 

“How-the fuck- am I- supposed- to breathe- if I’m- dying,” Chenle gasped, rolling over onto his back and staring up at the bright florescent lighting.

Jeno just chuckled, bright smile filling his view. “I thought you wanted to work out with me?” 

“Yeah, work out,” Chenle agreed, shooting a half-hearted glare at the older. “I didn’t think you’d try to kill me!” 

Jeno continued to beam angelically down at him, but a slightly sheepish look creeped down into his eyes as the older scratched his head. “That’s what I normally do though?”  

Chenle stared at him incredulously. Jeno ran on the treadmill for thirty minutes on the highest speed, did 200 sit-ups, 100 pushups, bench pressed 52 kilos (one whole Renjun!) for twenty minutes, then worked ropes for another twenty, then ran steps for yet another twenty, every day?!

“You are insane, Lee Jeno! An absolute lunatic!” Unfortunately, the extra emphasis made his throat seize up, causing him to choke on air pathetically. Jeno, bless him, just continued to rub his back soothingly, ignoring his comments.

“You good yet, Lele?”    

Chenle just groaned. “I’m better. I understand where you got your abs from now.” Now that he could breathe again, Chenle found his eyes drifting back to the boy next to him, realizing belatedly that he was shirtless. When had that happened? Swallowing hard, his eyes carved a path down Jeno’s broad chest, following the line down to his abs. He could count the spaces between Jeno’s ribs. 

“Enjoying the view?” Jeno was smirking down at him. When Chenle hurried to meet his eyes, he winked, making the younger flustered. 

“I- no- I just-” Chenle was sure his ears were flaming. 

“I’m just teasing.” Jeno stuck a hand out, helping the younger stand up. Unfortunately, this placed Chenle closer to Jeno’s bare chest. Jumping away as if burned, Chenle hustled to grab his bag, shoving his shirt down into the bag. 

“I’m ready to go!” He exclaimed, praying that his voice wouldn’t tremble. Curse teenage hormones, Chenle lamented. How had the hyungs survived years of this?

“Yeah, just give me a sec.” Jeno stretched, the muscles in his back shifting as the other boy worked out his shoulder. Chenle’s eyes immediately made friends with the ceiling. 

“Okay, I’m ready!” Jeno, now fully clothed, announced, slinging an arm around Chenle’s shoulder. 

“Let’s go,” Chenle’s voice trailed off, eyes falling upon the boy leaning against the doorframe of SM’s gym, looking highly unamused. “Hi Jisung…” 

“If you don’t mind, I’ll be taking him right about now,” Jisung said smoothly, cutting in where Jeno had been standing, the epitome of politeness. 

“Oh it’s fine,” Jeno replied amicably, shooting a crescent smile at the couple. “I’ll go hang with Renjun and Nana.” He gave Chenle a pat on the back, flashing yet another smile at Jisung, before running out the door. How he could run after that workout,  Chenle had no idea. Just thinking about it was exhausting him even more. 

“I can take your bag,” Jisung murmured, slipping the aforementioned object off Chenle’s shoulder and slinging it over his own. Chenle could feel the nervous stress leave his body, the couple falling into their usual behavior. 

“Thanks,” Chenle replied, equally as soft. His fingers kept brushing against Jisung’s as they walked, headed towards their favorite thai ice cream shop, just outside of the company zone, and Chenle was itching to intertwine them. 

“I’m not actually mad,” Jisung mumbled after a while, glancing to the side at Chenle. 

“Mm,” Chenle hummed, noncommittal. 

“I’m not,” Jisung insisted, as they reached the ice cream store. “Maybe just a teeny tiny bit jealous,” he tacked on, after a minute, cheeks puffing out adorably. Chenle cooed, reaching out to pinch the younger’s cheek, making him scrunch up his face even more. 

“Cute,” he remarked, before brushing pass the younger and into the store, briefly squeezing Jisung’s hand. 

“So,” Jisung started, pausing to stick a spoonful of raspberry ice cream in his mouth, “how was working out with Jen?” 

“Good,” Chenle mumbled around his own ice cream, although his was lemon. “He tried to kill me though.” 

That made Jisung giggle. “I know, I saw.” Now that made Chenle groan. 

“No seriously, Sungie, he’s a literal workout beast. It’s insane!” All the previous tension dissipated, replaced by their typical banter. Chenle felt more relaxed than he had in a long time, and, yet again, he was amazed by what Jisung’s presence could do for him. 

“Well he’s hot as hell so…” Jisung mumbled under his breath. Chenle’s breath caught in his throat. What? 

“You think Jeno’s hot too?” Crap, now he’d admitted to it. His stress was back, full force. Jisung was going to think he was so weird...or worse, unfaithful. Tension was starting to radiate off of Chenle once again, the blond slowly getting more and more upset and worried. 

“Too,” Jisung repeated slowly, “you think Jeno’s hot too,” he parroted, staring at his boyfriend. “Are you serious right now?” 

“Maybe,” Chenle stuttered, fingers fiddling with the spoon between them. “Is that bad?” 

Silence. Jisung was staring at him with an unreadable look on his face. His lips were puckered, eyes thoughtful. Chenle was starting to seriously worry. Was this what happens before a breakup? Was Jisung breaking up with him? Oh my god, was Jisung breaking up with him?! 

“Do you want to date Jeno?” Jisung’s voice was steady, and it was really freaking Chenle out. 

“No! Of course not!” Chenle rushed desperately. “No of course not! I only want to date you!” His heart was beating out of his chest, paralyzing fear wrapping around his vocal cords. Please please please believe me, Jisungie. I would pick you over Jeno every day. I need you more than I need him, he thought desperately. Yet a tiny voice in his head was saying something else. Something that sounded an awful lot like ‘what if?’

“What if I want to date Jeno too? Then does your mind change?” Jisung’s eyebrows were raised, as he stared into Chenle’s eyes. Somehow, it was flustering him even more. This is a trap. 

“You know I love you, right Jisungie?” Chenle wasn’t above begging right now. “Please, don’t break up with me.” 

Jisung’s jaw dropped. “Chenle, I’m not breaking up with you.” 

“What?” 

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about. I like Jeno too, you idiot.” Jisung’s fingers wrapped around his own, frozen around his ice cream spoon. Chenle couldn’t breathe. He was wrong?

“I’m confused,” he mumbled slowly, eyes drifting down towards their intertwined hands. “You like Jeno? You’re not breaking up with me because I like Jeno?” 

“Don’t be dense, Lele,” Jisung retorted, a half smirk creeping onto his lips. “I said I like Jen too. Want to date him, even.” 

“What?” 

“I like Lee Jeno, our fellow trainee, too,” Jisung repeated slowly, still smirking effortlessly at Chenle. “Try to keep up, babe.” 

“Can you even like two people at once? Is that a thing?” 

“Sure it is,” Jisung replied smoothly, using Chenle’s hand to feed himself a spoonful of lemon ice cream. “It’s called polyamory. Just ask Injoon and Nana about it.”

You could like two people at once? Equally? Chenle was amazed. That could explain so much…”How do you know so much about that polylamberry stuff anyway?” 

“Polyamory,” Jisung corrected, laughing. “And it’s called Naver. You should try it some time. Honestly, how are you older than me?” The younger held his own ice cream spoon to Chenle’s lips. “Open up, babe.” 

“Quit calling me that,” Chenle whined, the lemon tangy on his tongue. “It’s too cute! Makes me all mushy inside!” 

“That’s the point, babe.” Jisung’s smirk was absolutely obliterating. 

“Fuck you too, Pwark Jisung.” 

“You love me, Lele.” 

“You wish.”

“Hey!” 

Chenle’s mind was replaying his conversation with Jisung over and over again in his head, the familiar words practically headache-inducing.  Can you like two people at once? Is that a thing? Sure it is. Chenle’s fingers fiddled with the zipper of his hoodie, eyes staring blankly at nothing at all. It’s called polyamory. The buzzing grew louder, the pressure starting to mount between his eyes. Just ask Injoon and Nana about it. Frowning, Chenle twisted over onto his side, eyes landing on the sleeping boy just across the room from him. It would be so easy…

His lips formed the words before his brain could completely process the thought. “Renjunnie?” His whisper cut through the room, deafeningly loud in the sleepy silence of the dorm. 

A drowsy moan of acknowledgement filtered into Chenle’s ears, seemingly even louder than his previous whisper. 

“Renjun!” Chenle whispered a little louder, a little more insistent, still careful not to wake Sicheng or Kun. Yukhei, he wasn’t too worried about. That boy slept like the dead. “Can I talk to you?” 

The body in the bed slowly rolled over, blankets twisting around the small frame entangled inside them. Very, very slowly, Renjun sat up, blearily rubbing the sleep from his eyes. A network of pillow creases were maring his cheeks, his dark hair tangled into a rat’s nest. 

“You okay, Lele?” Renjun mumbled, crossing his legs and plopping his hands in the space between them. The positioning created an adorable slump to his shoulders, Renjun’s eyes, now wide and attentive, were round with a heartbreakingly young light in them. 

Chenle very nearly started cooing at the adorable sight, before he got ahold of himself. “I’m okay,” he mumbled back, scratching the back of his head. Now I feel really bad for waking Renjunnie up. Should I still ask him? It was right on the tip of his tongue, just waiting to be said out loud. Ask the question, he berated himself, just say the words. The words were starting to catch in his throat, prickly and suffocating, full of implications. 

Seemingly sensing his internal dilemma, Renjun lifted the corner of his sheets up off his bed, and nodded his head towards them. “Do you need to cuddle?” 

Infinitely thankful for the other’s offer, Chenle wordlessly climbed off of his cot, wincing when his feet hit the cold floor, before crawling in next to Renjun. The older was so, so skinny and small, but Chenle still wrapped himself around Renjun, cuddling closer, tucking his head into the space between the older’s chest and outstretched arm. When Renjun’s arms folded around him, Chenle felt infinitely more comfortable, more at ease with the question he was waiting to ask. 

“Whenever you’re ready,” Renjun murmured into Chenle’s hair, brushing a curl off his forehead. Plush, soft lips pressed gently against his temple as gentle fingers combed their way through his hair. 

Emboldened by the gentleness in Renjun’s voice, Chenle took a deep breath before blurting out, “Tell me about polyamory.” The minute the words left his mouth, Chenle winced. For one, he said that way louder than he was planning to, and second, he meant to ask! Not demand like some insolent-

“Why?” Renjun’s question cut Chenle off, not a trace of judgement in his tone, just idle curiosity. 

“I heard from Jisung- and you just- Nana and Jen- I was wondering- you know- like maybe,” Chenle babbled. 

“Slow down.” Renjun huffed a little laugh into Chenle’s hair, fingers playfully tugging on one of the strands. “I can’t understand you.” 

Chenle let out a mortified whine. “But talking about things is hard!” He protested. 

“Aw,” Renjun cooed, “baby doesn’t know how to talk to people about his emotions?” 

“Shut uppppp!” Chenle buried his head in Renjun’s chest. “I’m only a year younger than you! Don’t say it like that!” 

“I’m just teasing,” Renjun soothed, giving the younger a little squeeze. Chenle’s nose might have gotten a little squished, but that was fine. Renjun was warm, and Chenle was a panicked, confused gay so it was all good. 

“Do you still want to know about poly?”

“Please?” 

“Hm,” Renjun’s hum vibrated in his chest, sending little shocks through Chenle’s cheek. The sensation was actually kind of tickling. Before he could comment about it, though, Renjun was already speaking again. 

“Well, polyamory is loving more than one person at a time. It’s not really complicated, unless you make it complicated. Some people end up loving the same person and forming a triple, some people just have multiple partners without a completely affixed relationship. 

“You can love someone just the same amount that you love another one of your partners, maybe not the same way, because all love is different, but the amount doesn’t differ, You don’t love someone any more or any less.” Renjun paused to look down at Chenle. “Making sense so far?” Chenle just nodded. 

 “Personally,” Renjun continued, “I think it’s important to establish boundaries and expectations with your partners. For example, Jaemin and I know that being possessive of Jeno in public isn’t something we can do too much, just like Jeno and I know that showing affection in front of the other members isn’t something he’s comfortable with. As long as you’ve got open communication with your partners, your relationship can really get the chance to develop.”

Chenle was momentarily hung up on the revelation that Jeno was part of Jaemin and Renjun’s relationship before he could actually process the information Renjun was handing him. And when he did...

It made a lot of sense, actually. Chenle didn’t love any of his members any less or any more than he loved Jisung. They were all really different. 

Donghyuck was a tornado, sweeping through his heart and throwing everything around, challenging every defense the younger had set up. Hyuck loved bright and unashamedly, daring someone to say something about it. Despite all his chaos, though, Donghyuck was always willing to stay with you as you fell apart, to glue you back together when you were nothing but shards. 

If Donghyuck was a tornado, Jaemin’s love was a typhoon, an endless barrage, drowning Chenle in affection. Jaemin’s love was unique in the sense that it was always present, even in the most baffling of conditions. Jaemin would love you until you couldn’t take it anymore, insistent and demanding, yet always comforting and kind. If you asked Chenle, Jaemin’s love was the most addicting of all. 

Jeno was the polar opposite. His love didn’t overwhelm or amaze you; his love snuck in quietly, and settled comfortably around your heart. The older was always calm, always steadfast, always there for you. Jeno loved quietly, like a tranquil brook winding down a mountain. One could create ripples that disturbed the peace, but the brook would never ebb, always continuing to flow. Jeno loved with a quiet tenderness that was unparalleled. 

Renjun’s love took a different mold than the rest of them. Renjun deny, deny, denied until he couldn’t deny anymore, until his love was so blatantly obvious to anyone receiving it. He was always determined to put up a front, to pretend not to care, when in reality, his love was the most stubborn. Renjun’s love was masked, protected, guarded, but so genuine once you got past his shields. You just had to earn it first.

Chenle wanted to earn it.

And finally, Jisung. Jisung was Chenle’s first love, his first kiss, his first everything. Jisung was the one to teach him what loving was. And in that sense, Chenle’s heart would always belong to the younger, always belong in Park Jisung’s too-big hands. Jisung’s love was quiet, defiant, just like Renjun’s, but fierce, snarling, growling, ready to defend. If anyone hurt someone Jisung loved, the world would end before the younger would forget. And Chenle loved him for it. 

Chenle loved all of them, he realized, cuddled up in Renjun’s arms. He loved all of his fellow trainees, all of his friends, and there was nothing to do about it. His heart belonged to every one of them, irrevocably, and Chenle was so, so screwed. 

December 2015

Chenle laid in his bed, staring at the bottom of Sicheng’s bunk, having acquired it when Yukhei moved to the new dorm wing. The bars were old, and Chenle knew every pattern by heart, but he still traced them, skimming over the lines. He rolled over in his covers, pulling them up to his chin. 

The words from earlier still haunted his thoughts. We have an announcement. Chenle kicked the wall, glaring at the photo of him and Ten. The first major project from SM Rookies to be established is NCT U. Unbidden, his eyes started to water, remembering the anxiety and stress that had been pouring off of all of them. The first member is Lee Taeyong... Chenle remembered the sharp, stabbing pain of his own fingers nails digging into his palm. Jung Yoonoh... Renjun’s fingers threading into his own, as his whole body started shaking. Kim Dongyoung, Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul, and Lee Mark. 

The first song released will be by Moon Taeil, Jung Yoonoh, and Kim Dongyoung, however. 

Chenle had felt his heart sink, eyes starting to fill up. The debut is set for April. NCT U’s concept will be rotating. The members will change to fit the concept. The older SM Rookies are more likely to be picked. 

Another project, NCT 127, is in the makings. The first part of the lineup is Jung Yoonoh, Kim Dongyoung, Lee Taeyong, Moon Taeil, Dong Sicheng, Lee Mark, and Lee Donghyuck.

As you might have noticed, NCT is the overall group being created. It will be made up of subunits, each promoting under different names but ultimately as the same group. 127 is planned for July. 

NCT Dream is the final subunit being created. It will follow an age-order system in which members who are 22 age out and up into U or 127. Chenle’s heart was beating out of his chest, the thundering like horse hooves on the ground. Could this be it? Was he debuting?  Lee Mark, Lee Donghyuck, Na Jaemin, Lee Jeno, Huang Renjun, and Park Jisung will be the first generation. Thank you, that’s all for today. The rest of you, there’s nothing for you. Go back to your training. 

Chenle hadn’t realized just how bad he’d wanted to debut until the prospect was right in front of him. How was he supposed to function, to be okay, when the first debut project slipped through his fingers? Chenle had worked himself so, so unbelievably hard in order to debut. He’d sacrificed his entire childhood to become an idol. No friends, no family, no pets, no normal life. No days lounging at the mall, texting on social media. No school. Just a chance at debuting. 

It’d been right there, and then they told the trainees that it was only for older members? Then that Dream would be made of teenagers? But he wasn’t in it? Would they have him train until he was seventeen to even be considered? That didn’t make sense! Jisung was younger than he was! 

All of Jeno and Renjun’s gentle assurances melted away, replaced by snarling, scrabbling doubt, clawing its way into Chenle’s lungs. After all the promises that they would debut together, still see each other, he was still being separated from them. His friends, maybe even his loves, if his heart was to be believed, his boyfriend, they were all being torn away from him in the most brutal way possible. 

A single tear leaked out of his eye, tracing down the curve of his cheekbone. 

“You have to get out of bed.” Renjun’s face filled Chenle’s view, interrupting his thoughts. 

“Go away.” Chenle turned away from the older, hiding under the covers. He didn’t want encouragement or cuddling. He just wanted to be left alone. 

“It’s almost been a month, Lele,” Renjun tried again, this time in Mandarin, sitting down next to Chenle. His fingers slipped through a few strands of Chenle’s hair, just enough to soothe him but not annoy him. “You won’t even talk to Jisung.” 

“And?” Chenle bit back in Korean, purposefully rejecting Renjun’s attempt at comfort. 

“You need to do stuff other than train and cry,” Renjun pleaded. “Come hang out with us, it’s the weekend and we’re schedule-less.”

“No.”

“You can’t live like this.” Renjun’s fingers stilled in his hair. “I know you’re upset, but you can’t let it eat at you. “

“Ha, upset,” Chenle snorted, pulling away from Renjun completely. “Try watching your best friends train to debut without you, without ever saying a word about how they miss your or want you with them. Try being an absolute failure. Then tell me that I’m just ‘upset’.”

He felt more than saw Renjun recoil, the hurt leaking out of the older and into the air. Chenle could feel it surrounding him, adding more pressure to his already constricted lungs. 

“I’m sorry, Lele,” Renjun murmured, “I never realized we hadn’t said something.” The older’s fingers brushed against Chenle’s neck. He jerked away, shooting a glare over his shoulder at Renjun.

“Don’t touch me,” he snapped. “And don’t call me that.” Another tear made its way down the slope of his cheek.”You don’t deserve it.” 

Renjun stiffened at that. “Why-”

 “You get to debut with your boyfriends,” Chenle cut in, “You get to be in love and be happy with them! You don’t know what it’s like!” He screamed, “You just don’t! You’ve always had your loves and you’ll never understand what it’s like to watch them be happy without you!” The minute he said it, his stomach heaved with guilt as his heart constricted even more painfully in his chest. 

“Is that really how you feel?”

“Does it matter?” Chenle retorted, rolling his eyes to the wall. 

“I’m sorry.” Renjun’s voice cracked a little, almost pleading, making Chenle wince a little. 

“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it.” 

“I do mean it!” Renjun was crying now. 

“No, you don’t. You don’t understand, and that means you’ll never be sorry.” Chenle looked over his shoulder at the older and recoiled. Tears were flowing freely down his cheeks, dripping down onto Renjun’s clothes. The older looked completely devastated. 

“I’m still sorry,” he choked out. “You know I love you, right?” Chenle turned his back on the older, even as his heart protested. He heard Renjun’s choked off sob, before the weight on his bed lifted, the mattress plumping back up as Renjun left the room sniffling.

It was a long time before someone else came back to try to talk to him.         

Chenle sent Jisung away without even looking at him. 

January 2016

If the older trainees cared that Chenle was a shadow of his former self, they didn’t show it. No one except the dreamies bothered to check on him, and Chenle hated them for it. 

On New Years, they left him a little basket of firecrackers, fruit, and chocolate. That same night, Sicheng brought him a plate of homemade gyoza with a hard boiled egg on the side. A little later, Kun and Yukhei left him an apple and yuzu candies. Chenle ate the dumplings and nibbled on the apple, leaving the first present untouched, ignoring the look of hurt on Renjun’s face when the older returned to the dorm later that night. 

February 2016 

 Chenle was getting used to it, always feeling alone. Loneliness had become his constant companion, always twined around his shoulders, whispering in his ear. Its presence weighed heavily on his weakening body, even as Chenle trained harder than he ever had in his life.               

It’d become second nature by this point, to wake up at 3 am to go to dance practice before Jisung was up, then eat a bagel for breakfast at 8, making sure Jaemin wasn’t in the kitchen. Then he’d go train his vocal cords until 2:55 pm, five minutes before Donghyuck’s lesson, avoid Jeno at the gym for another hour, before crashing at the dorm for a power nap. After that, Chenle would run to Idol Etiquette Lessons, picking up a piece of fruit for dinner, before falling into bed at 7, two hours before Renjun’s last schedule.               

Funnily enough, Chenle still wasn’t training hard enough to beat Mark.                 

He and the older had been hanging out more, actually, due to Chenle’s increased training habits. Where he had resented his friends for debuting without him, Chenle pitied Mark more than he envied him, the prospect of three consecutive debuts in three different units being too much for the younger to even comprehend. Maybe it was hypocritical of him, but Chenle just couldn’t resent Mark.                 

The older had become a big brother figure of sorts, the same status as Sicheng and Kun. 

Speaking of which…

“Eat the apple, Chenle,” Mark pestered, waving the fruit in question in his face. 

“Why!” Chenle protested, dodging Mark’s insistent hand. “I don’t fucking want to!” the look on Mark’s face made him roll his eyes, but he still corrected himself. “Fricking, I mean.” He laughed at the content look that took over the older’s face. 

“One, you sound like Jisung and Hyuckie with that mouth. Two, apples are full of healthy things! Lots of fiber, antioxidants, vitamin C, and potassium!” 

Chenle’s heart seized up, hands clenching involuntarily at his sides. His teeth gritted together a little, as he tried to carefully relax his hands. It doesn’t do you any good to get upset, he told himself. Mark has no idea. But a voice buried deep inside his head added, Isn’t it your fault too? 

“Ha, yeah,” Chenle agreed, sliding his hand into his pocket to mask the fist. Mark, however, just looked more confused. Chenle watched as his expression changed, realization coating his features, before Mark’s eyebrows drew together. 

“Okay, I think I get it,” he said slowly, studying him with careful, worried eyes. Chenle nodded for him to continue. “You had a fallout with the other dreamies?” 

Chenle nodded again, eyes shifting down the minute Mark tried to make eye contact. 

“Okay, that’s fine,” Mark announced, almost as if he was trying to assure himself of something. Chenle risked a glance up, quickly looking back down when he saw the carefully constructed blank look laid over Mark’s feature. 

“I have a question,” the older began, making Chenle flinch. He could already guess where this was going. “And you can, like, totally blow me off and ignore it; you definitely don’t have to answer.” 

Chenle’s heart was thumping a little too loudly right now. Maybe Mark could hear it? He just knew what the question was going to be because this was Mark Lee, and Mark Lee was predictable. And the last thing he wanted to do right now was to admit he had a crush on Donghyuck. Friendships? Typically gone the minute your bff crushes on your not-so-secret love interest. 

“Do you like Donghyuck?” 

The look on Chenle’s face apparently said it all. Wordlessly, Mark nodded, looking like a kicked puppy, before picking up his headphones and walking out of the recording studio. 

“See you at the dorm,” he mumbled, before quietly closing the door. 

There goes my last friend. 

Chenle slumped down against the wall, slamming his head back into the grey drywall. That had been relatively dramatic and relatively pointless anyway because, clearly, Donghyuck’s heart belonged to Mark. There wasn’t any room for Chenle. There was never any room for Chenle. 

March, 2016

“Okay, listen up, asshole,” Donghyuck announced, barging into Chenle’s room and waking him up. “We’re going to have a conversation.” 

Chenle rolled over and groaned, trying to convey to Donghyuck that there was no way in hell they were talking while it was still dark outside. Or talking at all, for that matter. That would work too. 

“Chenle,” Donghyuck demanded, shaking the younger boy’s shoulder. “Get your lazy ass up.” 

Chenle ignored him, pulling the blankets up over his head pointedly. 

“Chenle,” Donghyuck said again, this time more insistently, pulling the covers off of the younger, “I’m not afraid to go get a pot and start banging on it. I’m sure Sicheng and Kun will understand.”

Groaning louder, Chenle flipped over and shot the older an unimpressed, unamused look. “You forgot someone.” 

“Renjun’s outside.” 

“Aw shit.” 

“Yeah, that’s right,” Donghyuck chortled, whacking Chenle with a pillow, cackling at the younger’s annoyed look. “Be terrified.” Donghyuck sent Chenle an evil grin, before hauling him out of bed. 

Within seconds, Chenle found himself in front of what was arguably the scariest sight he’d seen in his entire life. 

Huang Renjun, Lee Jeno, Na Jaemin, and Park Jisung, all standing with their arms crossed, frowns decorating each of their faces, completed with highly unamused glares. All directed at him, Zhong Chenle. Yay?

To Chenle’s chagrin, the dreamies were incapable of doing anything serious in a timely manner (really, he grew up with them, so he should’ve expected it, but still). Jaemin insisted on making hot cocoa for everyone, something he’d discovered after being forced to drink it in lieu of his ridiculous caffeine addiction, dragging unwilling and protesting Jisung with him, while Donghyuck bounced on the couch, hugging a plushie. Jeno and Renjun, on the other hand, were alternating between sending him disapproving looks and tossing Jaemin ingredients from the pantry. Well, Jeno was sending him mildly disapproving looks. Renjun just looked hurt, his wounded expression doing funny things to Chenle’s heart. Funny things like smashing it to pieces, repeatedly, but it’s fine , Chenle told himself. I deserve it anyway.  

Once Jaemin had deemed the amount of snacks necessary suitable for his needs, the dreamies sat down inside their old pillowfort, still intact after all these months (despite Taeyong’s protests about how messy it looked).        

Chenle remained standing outside, guilt weighing heavy on his heart, battling with the hurt. On the one hand, he felt totally betrayed by his friends because they didn’t even say anything when they were chosen. This conversation was something he definitely didn’t want to have. On the other hand...Chenle’s behavior wasn’t justified either. 

Debuting...every trainee’s dream. The entire goal of being a trainee was to become an idol in the shortest time possible and be as successful as possible.

 The dreamies had accomplished that, and Chenle couldn’t fault them for it. Whether or not they debuted with him, Chenle should’ve been happy for them. So what if they had forgotten about him for a few days, even a week, drunk on their success? Anyone would have done the same. 

Chenle knew he was going to support his loves. He knew that now. No more running from his failure and projecting it onto them. He steeled his shoulders, staring down the flap of the fort that hid the five most precious people in the world from him. 

It was time to move on. Chenle could be happy as long as they were. Forever and always. 

Wetness began to pool in Chenle’s eyes, his fingers flicking up instantly to brush them away. Hot shame coiled in his belly, as all the months of hiding and sharp words sunk in. Chenle had yelled at Renjun...ignored Jen and Nana, avoided Hyuck. Wait...had he broken up with Jisung?! Oh my god, have I broken up with Jisung ?!

A hand poked out of the fort, disrupting his rising panic, waving around near Chenle’s midsection. He thought, absentmindedly, how sad it was that he knew it was Jisung’s. The long fingers, calloused palms, adorably knobby knuckles.  The younger boy managed to tickle the blond’s stomach with a few fingers before Chenle batted it away, chuckling ever so softly, a stray tear spilling down his cheek.

He watched the younger’s silhouette uncross its legs, pull its lanky frame up off the ground, before standing just behind the fort’s entrance, right in front of Chenle. 

Jisung’s fingers poked back out of the tent, palm facing upwards, fingers wiggling in what was clearly supposed to be an inviting way. 

But before Chenle could take the hand, it disappeared suddenly, making Chenle frown, another tear tracing its way down his cheekbone as he wrapped his arms around himself, grasping his shoulders tightly. Jisung’s lanky silhouette was pushed away from the entrance to the fort by a smaller frame, which was quickly getting bigger. 

Before Chenle could process the loss, strong, thin arms wrapped around his body, and a head was burying itself under his crossed arms and nestling against his collarbone. 

Startled, he flinched away, arms uncrossing, before Chenle recognized the adorably ruffled tufts of dark red hair tickling his nose. 

Smiling wide enough to dislodge a few more tears, the younger wrapped his arms around Renjun’s tiny frame, tucking the older closer to him. 

“I’m sorry.” Chenle’s voice cracked more than he wanted it to, and his mandarin was pathetically rusty from months of disuse, but Renjun looked up at him, staring straight through his eyes and into his soul, tears brimming in the older’s eyes, and Chenle didn’t regret the statement at all. It had been a long time coming. 

“I know.” Chenle brushed the tears that spilled out of Renjun’s eyes away, choking on his own as his crimes were washed away by those few words. 

“I love you.” Dark, molten eyes stared into Chenle’s as the words left his lips, hanging in the too-quiet dorm. 

Huang Renjun, the first friend he’d ever made in a strange new country. His fellow foreigner with the sharpest tongue in all of China, the friend who’s friendship blossomed into something more. 

 Heat spread across the younger’s cheeks as the fear of rejection seeped in, the longer his confession remained unanswered. 

“I know .”  

And sweet, soft lips were pressing lightly against Chenle’s own, tasting of apologies and new beginnings and young love, all at once. 

So Chenle kissed back. 

Once Chenle and Renjun could bear to part from each other’s lips, the latter led the younger into the fort, clasping his wrist gently as he tugged the blond inside. 

Chenle’s eyes landed on Jisung first, The youngest looking dazed and sleepy as he petted Donghyuck’s hair absentmindedly, fingers twisting gently through the dark brown locks. 

When his eyes alighted on Chenle, however, the youngest dreamie instantly looked awake again, eyes wide and amazed as he took in the swollen lips and mussed hair on both Chenle and Renjun. 

Wordlessly, the blond plopped down next to his boyfriend, still rocking his dark black hair, and held his hand out, palm up, placing it on Jisung’s knee, as he dropped his head onto the younger’s shoulder and closed his eyes. Somewhere in the fort, Renjun was shuffling around and whispering with Jeno. 

Jisung’s fingers closed around Chenle’s own, warm and rough in the best of ways, intertwining seamlessly together. His boyfriend’s thumb caressed over the back of Chenle’s palm, stroking over his knuckles gently and fondly, the apology hanging clearly before him in the air. 

“Do you hate me?” Chenle mumbled, dropping a kiss on Jisung’s clothed shoulder.

“I could never hate you,” Jisung replied instantly, gripping Chenle’s chin gently and tilting it up enough to grant him access to the older’s lips, which he kissed. 

“I don’t deserve you,” Chenle hummed into the kiss, basking in the sensation of Jisung’s lips on his, still familiar, even after so long. 

“You don’t,” Jisung agreed amicably, laughing when Chenle pinched his shoulder and pouted. 

“Brat.” 

“You love me!” Jisung chortled happily, nose scrunching up cutely he grinned cheekily at his boyfriend. 

“Unfortunately.” 

A loud grunt interrupted what was surely about to become a fully-fledged bickering session, bringing both boys’ attention to the three boys across from them in the fort. 

Chenle noticed that Renjun had settled down next to Jeno, curled around the younger boy’s torso, remarkably already asleep, while Jaemin was sprawled out next to them, fast asleep, tongue poking out from between his lips. 

Jeno, despite looking perfectly content to be surrounded by his boyfriends, was holding two mugs of hot cocoa in one hand, balancing the other on Renjun’s head, a wrapped pepero package between his lips, and a depressingly high amount of little, mini marshmallows (Mark had brought them from Canada as a present for Donghyuck’s everlasting sweet tooth) in his hair. 

“Hwep plis?” Jeno managed to mumble, before one of the mugs started slipping dangerously far to the left. 

Chenle rushed over to help the other boy as Jisung burst out laughing, taking the mugs from him before they could spill, setting them on the hardwood further away from where they were sitting in the fort, then went back to take the pepero out of his mouth, tossing them at Jisung, who tore the package open, judging from the sounds behind him. 

Once Jeno’s immediate problem had been solved, Chenle found himself studying the older boy nervously, waiting for him to yell at him or at least comment on the fact that he’d kissed (made out with, really) Jeno’s boyfriend right outside the fort containing Jeno himself. 

Seemingly predicting Chenle’s current train of thought, Jeno smiled sweetly up at him, eyes curving into those freaking adorable crescents. 

“I’m not mad, Lele,” Jeno reassured him. “Not about you ignoring us, nor you kissing Renjun. All I wanted was for you two to be happy again.” Jeno’s eyes shifted down to look at Renjun’s peaceful face, before looking back up and attaching to Chenle’s once more. “I think there’s some conversations we need to have though,” Jeno continued, making Chenle wince as dozens of scenarios started running through his head of all the things that could go terribly wrong. 

Jeno, to his credit however, just giggled, guessing Chenle’s thoughts perfectly, yet again. “They’re not bad!” He rushed to correct, shaking his head to emphasize his point. “Jaemin, Renjun, and I just need to talk to you and Jisung about some things regarding our relationship and the role you two might play in it.” 

Chenle’s brain short circuited. The role you two might play in it. Jisung and me. Jaemin, Renjun, and Jeno’s relationship. Jisung and me! 

“What?” He breathed out, staring at Jeno with wide eyes. “What did you just say?” 

Jeno instantly looked panicked. “Oh my god, did I say something wrong?” The older fretted. “Did I misinterpret something? I just thought—you and Renjun—and I figured Jisung—“ Jeno looked increasingly more distressed as he stammered out more phrases, making Chenle panic as well. 

“No no no no no!” Chenle rushed over to give Jeno a hug, careful not to wake Jaemin and Renjun. “You didn’t misinterpret anything!” He shot a look over his shoulder to make sure Jisung was paying attention and that this was fine with him, and his boyfriend sent him an encouraging smile with a thumbs up. 

“Jisung and I want to date you, too! All of you!” Chenle paused for a second, doubt breaking through for a moment. “Wait, that is what you meant, right?” 

Jeno chuckled, wrapping an arm around Chenle’s shoulders to hug him back. “Yeah, that’s what I meant.” 

Chenle’s heart instantly expanded to three times the size it was before, as he cuddled up to Jeno and sent Jisung a triumphant grin. The younger looked shell-shocked, mouth hanging open ever so slightly, eyes round and wide. 

“Injoon and Nana want to date us too?” Jisung croaked, once the younger had regained some of his wits. “And you too, Jeno?” 

“Yes, that’s right,” Jeno affirmed, humming softly and playing with the hair at the nape of Chenle’s neck. If he could pur, Chenle would be right now. 

“Am I dreaming?” Jisung stammered, looking wildly around, before staring at Hyuck’s head resting on his thighs. “I have to be dreaming…” 

“Unless we’re having the same dream, you’re not dreaming, Sungie,” Chenle said quietly, smiling at his boyfriend. “Our wishes are coming true.” 

Jeno looked between the two of them in mock suspicion. “I feel like there’s a lot more to talk about than I originally planned.” 

“Oh yes,” Chenle laughed, hesitating for a second before bravely pressing a kiss to Jeno’s cheek. 

From the scarlet blush traveling over the older’s face and dusting the tips of his ears, Chenle had done the right thing. 

The pair just stared at each other shyly, silent words being exchanged. Chenle just couldn’t believe this beautiful boy in front of him liked him back, let alone Renjun and Jaemin both, as well. And that they had made up (mostly) already. 

“Finally!” Donghyuck’s voice cut through the moment, whining and high-pitched. “I was wondering when you’d all get your poly shit together!” 

Chenle turned to stare at the other boy incredulously, who leveled him with an equally unimpressed look. 

“Have you been pretending to sleep this entire time?” Jisung demanded, staring down at Donghyuck like the older had personally offended him by not sleeping. 

“Maybe,” The vocalist sing-songed, rolling over on Jisung’s lap, making the younger yelp as his head hit a nerve, to stare at Jeno and Chenle properly. “Why don’t you ask Jaemin how long he’s been pretending?” 

Chenle whipped his head around to stare at the boy sprawled out on the floor next to him, chocolate brown eyes now open and alert, a self-assured smirk painted across his lips. 

“Hi, love,” Jaemin drawled, winking at him. Instantly, Chenle’s cheeks flamed bright red. 

“I hate all of you,” Chenle breathed out, completely mortified. “You were supposed to be sleeping!” 

“Supposed to be, being the key word.” Jaemin stretched out lazily on the floor, shirt riding up his toned stomach, and judging by the look on his face, he knew Chenle’s eyes were tracking the movement. “I think I did a good job.” 

“The tongue was a nice touch,” Donghyuck agreed, exchanging wicked smirks with Jaemin from across the fort. 

“God, I hate all of you.” Chenle pouted at the dreamies, crossing his arms. Jeno cooed and pinched his cheek, which was totally UNHELPFUL (but Chenle loved it anyway). 

“Fascinating,” Jaemin teased, sitting up next to him in one smooth motion, tangling a hand in Chenle’s hair teasingly. “That’s not what you were saying earlier.” 

Before Chenle could come up with a proper rebuttal and retort, Jaemin was kissing him, and holy shit was it good. A calculated nip to his lower lip had Chenle groaning softly into Jaemin’s mouth, before the other boy pulled away. 

Judging by the scandalized, ruffled look on Jisung’s face, Chenle must have looked positively debauched. 

“Hot,” Donghyuck mumbled, before blushing and slapping a hand over his mouth in mortification, making Jeno laugh. 

“Now who wants to join the poly negotiations?” He teased.

Donghyuck huffed, but didn’t deny anything, making Chenle’s eyes widen and his heart expand one last time, fully complete now. 

“Okay, that’s nice, we’ve all established we have feelings for each other that are far from platonic,” Jaemin announced, standing up and offering a hand down to Chenle to pull him up too. “Can we go to sleep now, then? The floor isn’t that comfortable, and it’s 5:00; Taeyong won’t be up for another thirty minutes at least. 

Jeno just chuckled fondly, tugging Jaemin down for a quick kiss, before gently disentangling himself from his other boyfriend. Jaemin and Chenle helped him scoop Renjun up into his arms, taking care not to wake him. 

Renjun now secure, Chenle walked over to his own boyfriend, pulling him up off the floor, deliberately ignoring Donghyuck’s plead for help off the floor too. 

“That’s rude,” Donghyuck whined, but stood up on his own anyway, immediately attaching himself to Jaemin’s back, the latter just indulging the other boy. 

“Ready for bed?” Jisung murmured in his ear, breath hot and tickling, doing funny things to Chenle’s stomach. 

“Yeah.” Chenle was proud of the fact that his voice didn’t waver at all. 

“Let’s go, then.” 

Chenle gave Jeno a one-armed side hug before they left, placed a kiss on Renjun’s forehead, and pecked Donghyuck’s cheek before turning to Jaemin. Before he could give the older a hug, Jaemin pulled him into a passionate kiss, leaving Chenle gasping for breath.

  By god, Na Jaemin is going to be the end of me , Chenle thought before he was whisked off by Jisung to his own room. 

Once the couple was tucked securely into Chenle’s bed, Jisung as the big spoon, Chenle allowed himself to relax for the first time in months. 

He was loved, he was forgiven, and it was going to be okay. 

April 2016 

The sixth of April, the day NCT U was to debut with The 7th Sense, Chenle and the dreamies set up their pillow fort again (with poles bought by Jeno, this time), a couple weeks after Taeyong forced them to take it down after threatening to refuse to feed them. Really, it was a miracle Yuta hadn’t threatened to kill them either for screwing up Sicheng and his precious fairy lights. But Chenle digressed. At least they’d let them keep it up for over a year, despite major protests from the managers. 

As it was, they were setting up the fort for Mark, as soon as the older’s MV dropped, to celebrate the release. Technically, they weren’t supposed to watch the videos before the official reaction video, but as it was, Chenle and Renjun didn’t exist anyway, so that was already a third of the group. Long story short...the dreamies were breaking the rules. Again. 

“Oh my god!” Jisung shrieked, jumping up and hopping around, making Chenle grin. “Is that a cockroach?!” The younger latched onto Jeno, who had just walked into the fort carrying a tray of drinks, making the older wobble precariously, nearly spilling the sodas all over Donghyuck and Jaemin, who were curled up together in the corner. 

“Are those in martini glasses?” Renjun asked incredulously, looking up from his sketchpad, totally ignoring the paranoid Jisung standing next to Jeno. He was perched on top a gigantic mound of blankets and fluffy pillows. Lately, he’d been working on a drawing that no one was allowed to see. “Where did you even get them?” 

“I thought it would be cooler.” Jeno pouted at his boyfriend, gently disentangling himself from Jisung in order to set the tray down on the coffee table that was totally not stolen from Ten’s room…

“Dork.” Renjun patted Jeno’s cheek affectionately, before going right back to his sketchbook, totally dismissing him. 

“Can anyone see the cockroach? Did it disappear? Oh my god, is it under the blankets?” Jisung whispered, still refusing to let go of Jeno’s waist. “It’s going to kill me, oh my god.” 

Chenle suppressed a cackle, leaning back into the pillows before adjusting the blanket around his hips. Once properly concealed, he turned the remote back on, carefully toggling it a little to the left. Instantly, the “cockroach” shot out from under Renjun’s pillow mound and towards Jisung. 

The younger let out an inhuman screech, jumping around even more violently this time which caused him to trip, dragging Jeno down to the floor with him. 

“Yah!” Jeno yelped, as his head collided with Jaemin’s shin. “Jisung!” 

Jisung paid him no mind. “Oh my god, it’s right there, what the fuck, why is it following me?” He whimpered, eyes trained on the bug. 

Chenle really did try to control himself. He even told himself that it was too mean. 

But he was a teenager. 

So he did it. 

Jisung wailed pitifully when the cockroach crawled up his foot, thrashing and flailing around, kicking Donghyuck in the process, who sent him the most baleful grin to ever grace the earth. 

Chenle tried to suppress a smile, he really did, but he just couldn’t help it. It spread across his face, and he brought his hand up to mask it, but it was the one with the remote. Too late, he realized what he had done, but someone had already seen it. 

Renjun looked up at the right time and caught him with it, shooting him an amused look, before saying, without any fanfare, “The bug is fake. Lele’s got a remote.” 

Instantly, all eyes were on Chenle. Jisung shot him a wounded look, pouting, as he gingerly picked the robotic cockroach up off his foot. 

“Really, Lele?” 

“Sorry?” Chenle shrugged sheepishly. 

“I hate you,” Jisung huffed, uncurling from Jeno and stealing a blanket from Renjun. “No cuddles or kisses for a week.” 

Chenle shot him an incredulous look. Cuddles were vital to Chenle’s existence! “You’d do that to me over a robotic cockroach?” 

“Well it’s not like you’re the only one for me to cuddle and kiss, so,” Jisung quipped, leaning over and kissing Jeno’s cheek as if to prove his point. 

“It was just a prank,” Chenle sulked, crossing his arms and pouting back. “I didn’t mean to scare you too much.” 

“‘Too much’,” Donghyuck parroted mockingly, which was absolutely helping the situation. 

Chenle glared at him pointedly, making him chuckle. 

“Shutting up now,” Donghyuck agreed, winking at Chenle. “I’ll stay out of the romantically charged bickering of my boyfriends.” Jaemin flicked him reproachingly, so at least one of his boyfriends was on Chenle’s side, but still! No cuddles?!

“Ugh.” Chenle threw his hands up in the air. “It was a prank!” He repeated, looking hopelessly at Jisung. “What can I do to get my cuddles back?” He whined. 

“Do everything I say for a month and a half.” 

“No!”

“Then no cuddles.” Chenle took one look at the determination on Jisung’s face and relented, cursing himself. All he wanted was to have fun, not upset Jisung to the point of cuddle withdrawal. 

“Fine!” Chenle agreed, rolling his eyes. 

“Whipped,” Donghyuck cackled. 

“As!” Jeno added. 

“Fuck!” Renjun and Jaemin yelled at the same time, before bursting into laughter. 

“Um…” A confused voice questioned from the doorway. Chenle turned to look over his shoulder, eyes landing on a dark haired boy in a ridiculously edgy outfit. 

“Hi Mark! How was debuting?”  Donghyuck was as chipper as ever, but Chenle could still see the underlying ache in his heart, belaying his cheerful tone. 

“Uh,” Mark repeated, studying the collection of boys sprawled out inside the fort, lingering on the Jisung burrito. “It was...good. What is going on in here, exactly?” 

“We were waiting for you to come back so we could watch your comeback,” Jeno explained carefully in English, practicing the words he’d learned, before frowning and pouting cutely. “Come back and comeback,” he repeated, looking oddly put out by his word choice, making Chenle giggle. “Need new word,” Jeno muttered in Korean, kicking his feet adorably. “We were waiting for you to come back... here so...we could...could watch your…”

“Debut? Music video?” Mark supplied, coming fully into the tent and settling down next to Donghyuck and Jaemin. Chenle exchanged a pointed look with Renjun, who had finally put down his sketchbook, before trying to catch Donghyuck’s eye to make sure he was okay. Turns out, it was futile anyway, because Donghyuck already looked like a deer caught in the headlights, shuffling away from Mark ever so slightly. His eyes were wide and panicked. 

“I think I left the uh popcorn in the kitchen!” Chenle burst out, jumping to his feet. “Yeah, that’s it, the popcorn. Come help me, Hyuck!” 

Donghyuck started at him bewilderedly. “Do we even have-”

“We do!” Chenle insisted, walking over and pulling the other boy up off the floor, making Jaemin whine at the loss of his cuddle buddy. “We have popcorn and you’re going to help me get it.” He leveled him a pointed look, Donghyuck’s eyes widening when he finally realized what was going on. Chenle felt Jisung’s foot nudge his own in support, making him smile faintly. 

“Right...popcorn,” Hyuck agreed, allowing Chenle to tug him out of the fort, towards the kitchen. 

“Don’t be so sad, hyung,” Chenle murmured, once they were out of earshot, and pulled Donghyuck into a tight hug, wrapping his arms around the other boy’s waist. 

“I know! I was just—“ Donghyuck stopped and huffed in frustration, shoving a hand through his hair before settling his arms around Chenle’s shoulders. “I’m trying,” He finished weakly, resting his head on top of Chenle’s fluffy curls. 

“I know it’s hard.” Chenle nuzzled his cheek against the older’s chest. “Try though? You deserve to be completely happy.” 

“I’ll try more, I promise.” Chenle felt soft, plush lips against his temple, and hugged his boyfriend tighter. 

“Love you,” Chenle whispered, leaning up to press a kiss to the older’s cheek, before pulling away to actually make the popcorn they were expected to make. 

“You too,” Donghyuck hummed, settling back against the countertop, content to watch his boyfriend make the food. 

“Not planning on helping me?” Chenle chuckled, watching the popcorn turn in their microwave. 

“Nope! Why would I help when I could admire my cute boyfriend as he does it instead?” 

“I see you’re feeling better,” Chenle griped, but it lacked the heat. Compliments were always nice, especially from his boyfriends, and they meant that Donghyuck was pulling himself out of it. 

The popcorn finished popping right when Jaemin yelled from the living room about how they needed to come see how shitty Mark looked. 

“Coming!” Chenle yelled back, scooping up the popcorn bowl with sweater paws, and laughing when Donghyuck cringed. 

“Yah! Do you have to be so loud?” 

“Yes, yes I do.” Chenle linked their arms and dragged him back into the fort. 

After they’d finished teasing Mark endlessly for the 7th Sense, the dreamies plus Chenle just laid in their fort, cuddled up in a massive pile. Not that Chenle was complaining. It was quite nice to be surrounded by his boyfriends so snuggly. He still couldn’t believe he could call them his. 

Had it really been a month since he had regained his friends after the major misunderstanding? Had it really been a month since they figured it out and became boyfriends? 

Sighing contently, Chenle cuddled closer into Jisung’s warmth, the younger boy trapped below him, with Donghyuck tucked into the youngest’s right side. Renjun’s legs were hooked over Jaemin’s hips, the latter of which’s legs were thrown over Chenle’s own. Finally, Mark was squished between Jeno and Donghyuck, looking mildly uncomfortable.

The oldest boy caught him looking and turned to face Chenle, squirming under Jeno’s hold, unwittingly placing him closer to Donghyuck. If the latter noticed though, he didn’t react. 

“Oh, Lele,” Mark started, “I was supposed to tell you something!” 

Chenle studied him warily. With Mark, ‘tell you something’ could be anything from weird to serious. “Okay?” 

“Lee Soo Man-nim wants to talk to you tomorrow at 10 am.” 

Chenle walked through the SM building with a pounding heart. Meeting your boss is always terrifying, but meeting your boss when you’re the lacking trainee in your group of friends? What if he was about to be kicked out? Would he even get to say goodbye? 

A year with the dreamies filtered through his head, their forts, late nights discussing their dreams, his first kiss with Jisung, his first kiss with Renjun, Jeno, Jaemin, Donghyuck. A year with the kindest, sweetest, most caring hyungs and geges he’d ever meet in his sixteen years of life. A found family, with found loves, friends he’d keep in touch with for as long as possible. 

His dream, dangling by threads in front of his eyes as Chenle walked though the halls of SM Entertainment, ratty sneakers squeaking against the pristine floors, each footstep sounding like nails being hammered into a coffin. His passion for singing, for performing, rested in one man’s hands. 

Chenle arrived outside Lee Soo Man’s office, five minutes before 10 o’clock. As if in a trance, his hand raised, poised to knock on the door, before it dropped back down to his side, head thumping softly against the door. 

Oh my god, I can’t do this. Chenle’s heart was going so fast, it was sure to be skipping beats. 

Before he’d left that morning, Jaemin had cooked him breakfast, while Jeno massaged his shoulders out. Both his boyfriends had been calm and supportive quietly. Renjun and Donghyuck had hyped him up all night before they’d finally crashed, wanting to make sure Chenle looked decent the next morning and not sleep deprived. 

 Jisung, on the other hand, had cuddled him all night and whined when he left, but had dragged himself out of bed a couple minutes before Chenle was ready to leave. 

“Chin up, smile on, blow him away,” Jisung had told him, pressing a kiss to his lips and pulling him close. 

“It’ll all be fine,” Jeno added, eye smiling at Chenle. “I’m sure it’s nothing bad. You’re an excellent trainee!” 

“I agree with everything they said, now go be fabulous!” Jaemin announced cheerfully, sprinkling glitter in Chenle’s hair “for luck” and shoving him out the door. 

Chenle’s fingertips traced over the grains of the wood, the glossy finish cool against his forehead. I can do this , he thought, breathing out a little sigh. I can totally do this. His fingers lingered on the curved door handle, about to pull it down, when the door flew open, causing Chenle to startle and bump into the person leaving. 

A female trainee that Chenle had seen around was standing in front of him, tears streaming down her face, looking just as startled as he was. 

She apologized hastily, bowing, before running out the door behind him. Now even more freaked out, Chenle slowly stepped into the office, hands twisting together nervously. 

“Zhang Chenlei,” Lee Soo Man drawled, inspecting the teenager in front of him. 

The owner of SM Entertainment was dressed in a clean-cut black suit with a red tie, hair slicked back and parted neatly to the side. His impeccable attire did nothing to lighten the heavy atmosphere in the room, and Chenle felt like a child in comparison, clad in his favorite hoodie and washed-out black jeans with glitter all through his hair

A female secretary was standing in the corner, eyes averted, refusing to look at Chenle. He couldn’t say he blamed her. It must be hard to watch people cry so often in this office. No point in starting a meaningful conversation if you knew what was going to happen next. 

A soft cough pulled Chenle’s attention back to the subject at hand, making him flush with embarrassment. 

Chenle dropped into a hasty bow, cheeks flaming red, still mildly irked by how terribly the CEO pronounced his name but ultimately not correcting him. It would do him no good to contradict anything this man said. 

“Come closer,” Soo Man demanded, and Chenle shuffled a few centimeters closer. From here, he could smell the thick cologne on the CEO, heady and suffocatingly strong. 

“Better,” Soo Man said, dragging his eyes up and down Chenle’s frame. The teenager wanted to squirm uncomfortably, but held it in, lacing his fingers into the sides of his pants. Why am I here? 

“Enough chitchat,” Soo Man announced, huffing as if Chenle completely offended him, despite having not said a single word yet. “I called you here for business.” 

Unsure if he should answer or stay quiet, Chenle went with the latter, trying to look between Soo Man’s impassive, cold black eyes to give the impression he was looking into them. Upon closer inspection, the man had a unibrow, which would be kind of funny if it weren’t for his eyes. It was kind of hard to ignore the cold and hardened look in them, after all. 

“Let me make this clear, you are being given a second chance. Don’t blow it.” He leveled Chenle an absolutely terrifying look. This time Chenle actually shrunk back a little, nodding furiously, despite still being confused. A second chance for what? 

“You trained for two months,” Soo Man continued. “You’re a foreign member, and your Korean isn’t too good.” He shuffled a stack of folders in front of him, allowing Chenle to glimpse a paper with his name on it, before it was moved to the bottom of the stack. 

“You’re the closest with Park Jisung,” Soo Man continued. “Your position is main vocalist, second youngest.”

Chenle stared at the CEO in shock. Was he saying what he thought he was saying? Was it rude to—“Excuse me, Lee Soo Man-nim, I don’t understand.” Whoops.  

Several beats of silence followed Chenle’s admission, causing the boy to panic even more . His eyes darted over to the secretary, who was grimacing in the corner. Oh my god, I really screwed up. She’s frowning, why is she frowning? Now I’ll really be kicked out. 

After a few more seconds of prolonged, tension-filled silence, Soo Man said, “You’re debuting in NCT Dream. I changed my mind.” He gave Chenle two seconds to process the life-changing statement, before announcing, “You’re dismissed,” and turning away. 

The secretary lead a shell-shocked Chenle out of the office and down the hallway towards the elevator he had come up on. 

“Congratulations,” she murmured, patting his shoulder sympathetically, before pushing the down button and walking away. 

As soon as he was inside the elevator, safe from prying eyes, Chenle broke down, falling to his knees. Was this really happening? Had he heard correctly? Were his wishes answered? 

Debuting meant more days with his boyfriends. Debuting meant nights together at the dorm, laughing with the hyungs, cuddling with his friends. Debuting meant the start of his dream, the start of the life of an idol. 

  I’m debuting in NCT Dream , he thought, trying out the words in his head. I’m a dreamie now.

“I’m debuting in NCT Dream. I’m a dreamie now.” The words didn’t sound right out loud either. It felt as though he was surrounded by static buzzing, clouding his ears and mind. 

The elevator arrived on the bottom floor, as Chenle’s feet lead him towards the dorm, unconsciously, the building blurring and shifting as tears collected in his eyes. 

I’m debuting in NCT Dream. 

Chenle’s eyes were aching from unshed tears, the pounding drums in his head intensifying, even as he knocked on the dorm’s door, which flew open instantly. 

Jaemin stood panting in the doorway, as if he’d run the second he heard the knock. 

“Oh my god, Chenle, we were so worried!” He sobbed, tugging Chenle into a hug. “Jeno heard they were getting rid of a bunch of trainees today, and Hyuck went around asking about it, and a bunch of the female trainees are already gone, with five other boys. They kicked Hansol-hyung, we thought-” Jaemin stopped himself all of a sudden, pushing Chenle far away enough to be able to see his face, still holding onto his shoulders. 

Chenle watched him take in the disheveled hair, watery eyes, and shocked expression, and Jaemin stopped in his tracks, face falling, eyes widening.

“No,” he breathed out, staring at Chenle with a panicked look on his face. “No, no this can’t be happening.”  

Before Chenle could form the words to assure Jaemin that it was okay, Jeno and Renjun raced into the room, Jisung hot on their heels. 

“Jaemin, is that-” Renjun was cut off by Jisung who shoved past the older to hug Chenle and Jaemin both. 

“Lele!” Jisung sobbed, smushing the older into his chest. “Tell me it’s okay, please,” He begged, only letting go when Jeno gently pried him off Jaemin and Chenle. 

“You gotta let Chenle talk, Sungie,” Jeno gently admonished. “He can’t talk if you suffocate him to death.” He wrapped his arms around Jisung in a back-hug, hooking his head over the younger’s shoulder to stare at Chenle patiently. 

Renjun came over to hold Chenle’s hand, which the latter thought was really sweet, and he was about to explain that, no, Jaemin had understood wrong and that he really was fine, better than fine, really, and that he was joining NCT Dream as well, but he was interrupted yet again by the dorm’s door swinging open behind them. 

“Is Chenle back?” Donghyuck screeched, not even bothering to look around, before he noticed the big gathering in the entrance and did a double take. “Oh, hi. I guess he is, then.” 

“Is everything okay?” Mark asked, popping up behind Donghyuck. “I’m so sorry I didn’t say anything about the trainee purge, Chenle, I didn’t even know.”  

“Yeah, I agree with everything Canada said. Do I need to go give Lee Soo Man a piece of my mind? I’m not afraid of him!” Donghyuck cracked his knuckles, looking quite formidable, and it was enough to break Chenle out of his suspended disbelief, a small smile spreading over his lips as the pounding in his head faded away. 

Soon enough, he was laughing hysterically as his new reality set in, tears of joy starting to stream down his cheeks. I’m debuting in NCT Dream. 

“Um...is he going into shock?” Jaemin asked, staring up at Chenle worriedly from his position on the floor. 

“I’m not sure,” Renjun worried, moving to stand in front of Chenle. The other Chinese gripped Chenle’s chin, tilting his head side of side, trying to see if he was okay. 

Chenle just beamed harder and continued cackling. 

“That’s it, I’m going to go kill Soo Man.” Donghyuck made to reach for the doorknob, but Mark grabbed his shirt and pulled him back to his side. 

“Don’t do that,” Mark suggested, looping an arm around Hyuck’s neck to keep him in place. “Why don’t we see what Chenle has to say, first?” 

“I’m-sorry,” Chenle gasped out, once his maniacal laughter had subsided. “I just, I couldn’t believe, and with you guys,” he stammered, wiping stray tears out of his eyes. All his boyfriends, plus Mark, eyed him warily, clearly trying to gauge if he was okay or if they needed a psychiatrist and restraints. 

“I’m okay,” Chenle promised, once he had it all together. He squeezed Renjun’s fingers tighter, eyes roaming over all the dreamies.  “Lee Soo Man-nim isn’t getting rid of me.” A symphony of relieved sighs followed his statement. 

“I feel dumb now,” Jaemin remarked, looking rueful on the floor. “I really thought you had to leave us.” Jeno just leaned over to ruffle his hair affectionately. 

“It was a reasonable conclusion,” he soothed. 

“I’m glad you’re staying,” Mark confided. “It wouldn’t be the same without you.” 

“Thanks, hyung,” Chenle mumbled, suddenly bashful under all the attention. 

“I would’ve fought for you,” Jisung blurted out, blushing when Chenle cooed. “You’re an amazing vocalist, and I’d never let my boyfriend slash best friend go without a fight.” 

“I was totally ready to throw hands, too,” Donghyuck agreed, nodding seriously. 

“Wait,” Renjun interjected, making Chenle look over at him quizzically. “I’m glad everything’s okay, but if you’re fine, why were you crying?” 

“Oh!” Chenle felt like such an idiot all of a sudden. How had he left out the most important part? 

“Oh?” Jeno prompted, looking expectantly at Chenle, making him blush. 

“Right, I forgot, I’m sorry.” A wide grin spread across his face. I’m a dreamie now. 

“For fuck’s sake, just tell us already!” Donghyuck shrieked, throwing his hands up in the air. “Quit it with this stalling bullshit, honestly!” That made everyone chuckle. 

Chenle was just so happy. He was going to debut in a few months time, right next to his best friends in the entire world. He was becoming an idol, after just over a year of hard work. Many people had to wait even longer. 

“I’m debuting in NCT Dream,” Chenle burst out, laughing. “I’m a dreamie!” Finally, the words sounded right. 

25 August, 2016

NCT Dream debuted with their first single, Chewing Gum, on the MNET comeback show, the last unit of Neo Culture Technology to be released that year. Zhong Chenle, age 17, was the 14th member of the group and the last to join. 

And he was the one smiling the brightest as they rode out on their hover boards. 

Chapter Text

Park Jisung had a problem. Its name was Zhong Chenle, his best friend and bandmate, who he maybe sorta kinda definitely had a crush on. No big deal...right? Yeah no.

Idols couldn’t date for one, let alone date a band member, let alone be gay . They’d lose nearly all their support from K-fans, something that they definitely couldn’t have. Jisung couldn’t imagine why he had a problem at all. Of course not.

Well…

It’s not like idols didn’t date in private.

So maybe it wasn’t that big of a problem.

But still.

Jisung was freaking out.

His realization came at dead-ass 3 o’clock in the morning because his brain was stupid like that. Jisung couldn’t contemplate life at 3 o’clock in the afternoon like the rest of his bandmates, no, he had to do some inner reflection when it was too early to be late and too late to be early. Not to mention that a certain Chenle was cuddling with him. Because he sleepwalked into Jisung’s room. Zhong Chenle, in his bed. Right now, while Jisung was discovering very interesting things about himself. Delightful.

See, another fun thing about his best friend was that Chenle loved to cuddle. Jisung unashamedly watched some of the videos that fans made and there were at least 6 minutes of Chenle cuddling with literally every member of NCT he could get his hands on. Jisung loved the quality, even if he pretended to hate it, but right now, it wasn’t helping with...ahem...a certain situation.

Chenle was completely wrapped around him like a koala, one leg hooked over his hip, trapping Jisung facing him, while one arm was around Jisung’s waist, the other leg tangled with Jisung’s. His head was tucked securely under Jisung’s chin, right against his chest, Chenle’s soft blond hair tickling him. The older’s breath ghosted over his neck in adorable little puffs, making Jisung want to shiver and shy away.

Chenle stirred a little, then, pulling Jisung even closer to him, their bodies now pressed flush against each other. Jisung could feel every inch of the younger’s body. Now he was really freaking out.

Think, Jisung, think , he thought, panicked. What would Jaemin do?

Jaemin would crawl on top of the other person and kiss the living daylights out of them. Yeah, Jisung wasn’t doing that. He wasn’t nearly a confident enough gay for that, plus Chenle was his best friend. That might not be received well.

Donghyuck? No, he’d just wake the other person up and confess sweetly while simultaneously insulting them. Also not what the maknae was going for.

Renjun? Probably the same as Hyuck. Maybe with chokeholds involved. Jeno? No, Jeno wouldn’t do anything helpful; he’d be asking himself the same questions Jisung was now. And Mark wouldn’t be any help at all.

Welp, so much for getting advice from his hyungs. Jisung just wrapped his arms around Chenle and burrowed his nose into the older’s fluffy hair. Might as well get something out of this, he thought.

Chenle was getting hot. It felt like he was roasting alive! Whining, he tried to flip over, to turn away from the suffocating heat, but a pair of arms were caging him in, keeping the boy trapped against it. He whined again, before wriggling around a little, trying to free his arms.

A voice cut through the air, husky and deep with sleep. “Hold still, Chenle.” Jisung. Chenle froze as the boy pulled him closer, nuzzling his hair.

When had Jisung come into his room? When had Jisung come into his bed?!

Chenle stared out over Jisung’s shoulder, squinting, trying to make out the time on the clock that should have been on his end table. Instead, Chenle’s eyes were met with multiple pop vinyls. He blinked. Why were there…?

Oh no.

Oh shit.

Apparently, he’d sleepwalked into Jisung’s room or some similar shit because he was in the younger’s bed and they were cuddling. Wait...Jisung’s room...that meant...Chenle glanced over towards the other beds in the room.

Jeno was hanging precariously off the edge of the top bunk, upside down, half in, half out of his sheets. His position was vaguely reminiscent of a bat, cocooned in the white cotton, blond hair sticking up every which direction revealing dark roots.

Renjun...Renjun was sitting upright, staring at Chenle.

“Jisung?” The boy mumbled, rubbing his eyes sleepily. Aw shit.

“Go back to bed ge-hyungie,” Chenle corrected, trying to deepen his voice to sound like Jisung.

“Mm.” Lucky for Chenle, Renjun laid down and curled up in his bed, not noticing the younger’s slip-up.

Breathing out a sigh of relief, Chenle settled back into Jisung’s arms. He was hot but...sleep was important. And Jisung was here. Whatever had transpired tonight, they could figure it out later. Right? Right…

Chenle was asleep in no time, Jisung’s arms wrapped securely around him.

“Do you think they’ll wake up?” A voice said, invading Jisung’s subconscious.

“Nah, they’re fast asleep. Just give me a sec to take the picture,” A second voice joined in.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

Jisung groaned at the voices, turning his head to the side. Immediately, the two voices started bickering.

“Oh my god, Donghyuck, you woke them up!”

“I did not! You did, with that stupid ass camera!”

“Jaemin’s camera isn’t stupid, thank you very much!”

“Considering that it just woke them up, yes, it is!”

“Fucking fight me, Donghyuck!”

“Yah! Get off of me, bitch! Why couldn’t he have just taken it himself and saved us all this trouble?!”

“He’s busy making sure Jeno doesn’t burn breakfast! Besides, you didn’t have to come here anyway! Maybe if you had just left me alone—”

“I will go anywhere I want, thank you! And you can’t burn soup!”

“Jeno will figure it out, trust me.”

“Why are you in my room?” Jisung grumbled, slowly opening his eyes and glaring at the intruders. Had it been anyone else, they’d have looked sheepish for waking him up, but this was Renjun and Donghyuck they were talking about, the two most shameless people he’d ever met.

“Technically, this is Renjun’s room too,” Donghyuck pointed out, slowly untangling himself from the chokehold Renjun had him in. He flashed a brilliantly smug smile at the older boy, before sending an angelic one to Jisung.

“Okay,” Jisung snorted, rubbing at his eyes, “then why are you in our room, Hyuck?”

“Oh, I was gonna wake your two lazy asses up, but then I stumbled across our dear Renjunnie, fully awake, taking pictures of you two for Nana. You two, which I might add, who did not fall asleep in the same bed last night.” Donghyuck smirked at him. “I would know,” he added smugly, “ I share a room with Chenle.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Jisung grumbled, rolling over, away from his other members and cuddling Chenle closer.

“Language, mister,” Donghyuck singsonged, poking Jisung’s exposed cheek.

“I will say whatever the fuck I want, thank you,” Jisung retorted, making Renjun snort.

“The disrespect!” Donghyuck gasped, clasping his hands to his chest. “What did I ever do to get such insolent dongsaengs?”

“Existed, that’s what,” Renjun muttered, and Jisung could hear him fiddling with the buttons on the camera.

“Hey!”

“They’re not rude to me,” Renjun pointed out, ruffling Jisung’s hair and reaching over to do the same to Chenle’s, the other boy’s head peeking out from under the covers. Some of the weight bending the mattress lifted as Renjun went to leave the room.

“Geurae naegen neoppuniya~” Donghyuck warbled after him, unable to resist and torturously off-key. Seconds later, a slipper whistled through the air, whacking him upside the head with a solid thunk.

“That bitch just chucked a camera lens at me!”

“I’m sure you deserved it,” Jisung remarked mildly. He heard a chuckle as the oldest’s footsteps pattered out the door, the soft click of the lock sounding in the room.

“Anyway,” Donghyuck drawled, discarding the lens-filled slipper dangerously close to Jisung’s head, “wake your boyfriend up, we’re eating breakfast in ten minutes or so. Jeno and Jaemin cooked.”

Jisung turned his head enough to side-eye the other boy, not even bothering to deny the accusation. “What did Jeno cook?”

“Just don’t eat the soup.”

“Got it, thanks.”

Jisung turned back to stare at the top of Chenle’s fluffy head as Donghyuck gently shut the door, trying to figure out the best way to wake the other boy up. His head was screaming at him to pull the covers down, brush the sunset coloured bangs that he knew would be covering the older’s forehead away, and kiss Chenle, but that probably wasn’t in his best interests. Plus it’d be extremely hard to explain away as platonic.

And Jisung was all about “platonic”. For now, at least.

Jisung settled for gently extracting himself from the adorable boy next to him, taking care not to wake him up, before slipping into the bathroom to change and wash up. He’d deal with waking Chenle up later…

But, to his surprise, when he left the shower, Chenle was nowhere to be found. In his place was an expertly made bed, pillows arranged neatly. Jisung was pretty sure his bed hadn’t been made in...well, it had been a long time.

He pattered over to the room’s shared closet, clad in a towel, pulling on a pair of boxers as he went when a knock sounded on the door.

“Come in!” He called, not even thinking about it, dropping his towel to pull on a shirt, but froze when he saw who had walked in.

Zhong Chenle, clad in fluffy pajamas with an adorable case of bed-head, equally fluffy blanket in hand, was standing in the doorway to Jisung’s room, rubbing his eyes sleepily, the picture of innocence.

And Jisung was shirtless and in his boxers.

Well, wasn’t that embarrassing.

Chenle couldn’t say he was expecting to find a half-naked Jisung in the bedroom, but nope, there he was, in all of his half-naked glory, blushing as red as a tomato.

Chenle’s cheeks flamed instantly too, and the boy panicked, rushing out of the room and stammering excuses.

As soon as he was outside, Chenle breathed out a sob of relief, sliding down the length of the door to sit up against it.

“Damn,” he mumbled, clutching the blanket to his chest. “Today is a day full of surprises.”

It wasn’t that they had never seen each other naked, not even close. Quick changes and the idol lifestyle made it nearly unavoidable. It was just...after a night of cuddling intimately...

Perhaps Chenle had a problem.

His cheeky brain summoned up the picture of Jisung’s toned abdomen in response, and Chenle shrieked, kicking his feet around on the floor in protest.

“Bad brain, bad brain!” He scolded himself, still blushing red, nearly crying from embarrassment. “Go away, go away-” He was cut off by the door opening behind him, causing the boy to fall back onto the opener’s feet.

“Jisung!” Chenle gasped, looking up the very long legs that were in front of his face. “Jisung,” Chenle repeated, mortification taking over, as he realized the position he was in. “Gosh, I’m so sorry—“

Jisung cut him off by scooping him up off the floor in one clean swoop, bridal style, making Chenle squawk indignantly and throw his arms around the brunette’s neck.

Chenle stared up at him bewilderedly, but the younger leaned down close and—was he hyperventilating? He was totally hyperventilating…

From this close, Chenle could see every individual eyelash of Jisung’s, long and dark, framing his eyes beautifully, not a drop of mascara coating them. The tiny little mole in the corner of Jisung’s left eye, always hidden by the constant stage makeup, stood out against his milky white skin.

He could feel Jisung’s breath against his own lips, nearly parted from sheer anticipation. Perfectly pale, pink lips were just centimetres from Chenle’s own. They looked plush and soft, perfectly kissable, and the other boy’s tongue swiped over them slowly, subconsciously, ending in a little nibble with his teeth.

Was Jisung about to kiss him?

Chenle’s eyes fluttered a little in anticipation. He was absolutely tomato red…maybe even matching his hair...

“You look beautiful today,” Jisung whispered, eyes darting up from Chenle’s lips to meet his eyes. The softness in his eyes, paired with the beautiful angle, made Chenle’s heart seize and his confidence soar.

“Jisung, I—“

“No, don’t say anything,” the younger mumbled, squeezing him close. “I already know what you’re going to say.” A dejected look had taken over his features before it solidified into careful stoicism.

“Huh? But I—“

“Hold on tight,” Jisung announced, totally ignoring him, before marching into the kitchen. As he walked through the door, however, he placed a peck to Chenle’s forehead, nothing more than a soft caress of lips.

Jeno, Donghyuck, Jaemin, and Renjun looked up quizzically upon hearing the door open, the epitome of those chibi scenes in an anime, before enlightenment donned in all but Jeno’s eyes. Donghyuck and Renjun were snickering while Jaemun just picked up the camera and snapped a picture, not even taking the spoon out of his mouth.

Chenle was too shocked, though, when Jisung put him down, to register anything other than the faint tingling on the crest of his forehead where Jisung’s lips had been.

What had just happened?

“Johnny.” Jisung stared into the dark recesses of the NCT 127 dorm, trying to convince himself that nothing scary was lurking in the dorm. It was a dorm, for crying out loud! Only managers haunted the place. Well, managers and the souls of the damned idols.

Okay, Jisung, not helping.

A random floorboard creaked, despite Jisung not moving at all, and he couldn’t hold back a squeak.

Suddenly, trying to snuggle with Renjun and hide from his problems didn’t sound so bad.

Taking a deep breath, Jisung poked his head further into Jaehyun and Johnny’s room, whispering slightly louder, “Johnny-hyung!”

No response.

“Johnny-freaking-Seo-hyung, wake the fuck up!” Jisung whisper yelled more urgently. “I have a fucking problem, and I need your goddamn help.”

Instantly, a head popped up from its bottom bunk bed, whacking itself on the upper one. A loud and guttural groan followed as the giant shape hauled itself out of bed. Johnny stumbled around the room a few times, tripping over his own big feet, before making his way to where Jisung was standing.

“I heard the words ‘need help’,” he muttered, rubbing at his eyes, “and I know it was a dreamie kid. Please don’t have burned down the kitchen again, though, I’m begging you. That might’ve been the worst mess I’ve ever had to clean up.” Ah, that. Jisung remembered that. Although it was Haechan and 127 doing the burning, not Dream. “I’ll help, but I want a coffee first.”

“Okay,” Jisung agreed meekly, ducking out of the dorm and into the kitchen. Pride be damned, he needed help, and it wouldn’t kill him to not be an evil maknae for once.

After Johnny’s disgustingly black coffee had been brewed, Jisung tugged a chair over to the table and plopped down onto it, poking Johnny’s head that was resting on the table. It looked highly uncomfortable to have your neck at that weird angle, but hey, if it worked, it worked.

“Johnny,” Jisung urged, poking him again. “I need help.”

“Yes, I know,” Johnny groaned, “but it’s too early for Chenji bullshit.”

“‘Chenji bullshit’,” Jisung repeated, shooting the mountain of a man an incredulous look. “I thought you didn’t know which dreamie you were talking to?”

“I already helped Nomin get together, then Markhyuck, then finally Norenmin, that leaves Chenji, the last of our lovestruck, disastrous little juniors,” Johnny listed off, raising his head to level Jisung with an exhaustive look. “Do you really think we leave you guys’ lives alone? Cause the answer is no if you were wondering.”

Jisung just groaned and pulled Johnny’s coffee mug closer to himself. “No, you don’t deserve this,” he huffed, wrapping his cold hands around the hot porcelain.

“Do you want Daddy Johnny’s advice?” Johnny retorted, making grabby hands for his coffee. “Because if you do, hand over the caffeine, kiddo.”

“Please don’t ever say that again.”

“What, caffeine?”

“No!” Jisung protested, glaring at the older boy. Regret was starting to seep in, god, why were all his bandmates so—

“Ohh,” Johnny gasped before chuckling. “I’m catching your drift. Give me my coffee, and you have my word.”

“Who even says that?” Jisung mused aloud before agreeing. He parted with the warm cup reluctantly, before crossing his arms and frowning at Johnny. “When are you going to give me advice about Chenle?”

“I thought you didn’t want advice about Chenle,” Johnny smirked at him, eyebrows raised.

“I technically never said that.”

“It was implied.”

“No, it wasn’t. You were just hearing what you wanted to hear.”

“Why are you like this?”

“Why am I like what?” Jisung challenged, eyebrows raising.

“So bratty,” Johnny smirked, taking a long sip of his coffee. “I’m the oldest member of NCT, you have to respect me!”

“Taeil is older.”

“No one cares, Sungie.”

Chenle crept out of bed carefully, taking care to avoid the various things sprawled out all over Donghyuck and his floor. Honestly, the older boy made it so messy when Chenle was gone.

He kicked a bottle of Donghyuck’s bronzer by accident and grimaced, hopping around on one foot and cursing.

“Goddammit, that hurt,” Chenle grumbled, eyeing his roommate’s bed nervously.

Donghyuck didn’t stir at all.

Sometimes Chenle could really appreciate the perks of having a dead-to-the-world roommate.

Donghyuck certainly slept better than Chenle’s mom did. There were some memories better left forgotten.

Having successfully crossed the war zone that was his bedroom, Chenle breathed out a sigh of relief once he reached the door, kicking a stray pair of god-knows-what off his ankle that he had picked up along the way, before carefully easing the door open.

He was almost there, just centimetres of door away from getting outside—

It squeaked.

Of course it squeaked.

It squeaked louder than Chenle had ever heard something squeak in his entire life.

Great.

Donghyuck rolled over in bed instantly, head raising off the pillow to stare at the thin shaft of light pouring into the bedroom. Hell, with Chenle’s luck, it was probably shining straight into the other boy’s eyes.

“Mm?” Donghyuck groaned, twisting his sheets up further to cover his eyes.

Chenle quickly debated whether to reply or just run out the door and hope that Hyuck wouldn’t have too many questions the next day.

He bolted.

“Okay, so, with Lele, you just gotta go for it, okay?” Johnny advised, clasping his hands in front of his chin. “No stammering or playing games. That thing you told me you did this morning? Yeah, that’s good. Compliments are nice, make him feel like he’s the most important person in the world for you. If you’re legit, he should be. You two literally grew up together, this shouldn’t be that complicated! Go straight for your man—wait, you two are still bitty—go straight for your boy!”

“I’m not bitty!” Jisung glared at Johnny, focusing on the most important part of the conversation. “I wanted help, not some backhanded-insult shit!” Although the rest of the advice seemed legit. Maybe asking for help wasn’t so bad...

“So grateful, you are,” Johnny teased, tossing his head back to clear the hair from his eyes.

“So unhelpful , you are!” Jisung countered, stealing Johnny’s coffee cup and taking a sip before sputtering in disgust because it tasted like tar. Johnny just laughed.

“We’ll see who’s right when you have an adorable, Chinese boyfriend with highlighter hair, whom of which you obtained using my advice.”

Never mind. Jisung rescinded everything he had said beforehand. Asking for advice sucked. His hyungs sucked.

“I hate you,” Jisung announced petulantly, blushing red as Johnny stood up and ruffled the maknae’s hair.

“Pleased to be of service,” Johnny retorted, pushing Jisung’s head around playfully. “This was a great talk, I’m glad we established that I have the skills to get laid and get a boyfriend, now go to bed, shortie, it’s ass-o’clock.”

“I’m not short!”

“Everyone’s short compared to me!” Johnny called, opening the door to Doyoung and Ten’s room.

Wait.

Doyoung and Ten’s room.

How interesting.

So Ten was Johnny’s lay buddy. I should’ve realized that, actually. WAIT! Are they dating? No! Stay on track, Jisung!

“I’m sorry you’re tree-sized!” Jisung countered as the door swung shut, masking his embarrassment at being ignorant as fuck. Honestly, did no one tell him anything in this group?

What else was he missing out on?

Sighing, he cracked his neck, walking to the kitchen to wash out the coffee mug that Johnny had oh-so-kindly left for him.

“Compliment him, huh? That worked out real well the first time,” Jisung muttered over the roar of the kitchen sink faucet, quite loud compared to the sleepy silence. “Just do what I’ve been doing aka, stammering hopelessly while simultaneously bickering with him because he’s too cute. Got it.”

Jisung wandered into the living room, pulling out the dorm couch, before flopping onto it, legs splaying out everywhere, as the springs protested the abrupt weight. He blindly rummaged behind him for the blanket that Doyoung kept behind the cushions for nights like this. It was way too late to be sneaking back into the room where Renjun could possibly wake up (Jeno slept like the dead).

He curled up into a ball, tucking the blanket’s edges around himself to maximize heat, ignoring the hole his toes were currently poking through. Sighing, he closed his eyes, pulling the blanket up over his shoulders, tightening it around his chin.

What the fuck am I going to do now?

“Who’s there?” Kun’s voice sounded remarkably angelic for someone who had been sleeping, but then again, Chenle mused, this was Qian Kun, a literal angel personified.

“Kun-Ge?” Chenle whispered, feeling along the wall as he navigated his way through the room. Thank goodness there was nothing on the floor in their bedroom to trip over since Taeyong was too much of a neat freak to allow that. He did, however, kick the bed frame, which hurt like a bitch, but Chenle made it to Kun alright. His toe could be sacrificed to obtain valuable advice.

“Chenle? Is everything okay?” Kun fretted in Mandarin, tossing his covers off his legs and swinging them over the edge of the bed. “Did someone burn down the kitchen? I don’t smell any smoke!”

“Does everyone automatically assume we burnt down the kitchen?” Chenle mused back, plopping down on the edge of the older’s bed and then doing the same with his head to Kun’s shoulder

“Should we not?”

“Yes!”

“Mm, okay then,” Kun agreed mildly, raising a hand to pet Chenle’s hair. His fingers were gentle and calming, and Chenle greatly appreciated it. After a little while, Kun readjusted both of them so that they were lying down, Kun cuddling Chenle.

“Was there something wrong?” He asked quietly, still petting Chenle’s poor, bleached-out hair. “Or did you just need some cuddles?”

“Oh.” Yeah, there was something wrong. Sort of. Well, actually, there was nothing wrong with liking Jisung, per se, just with how Chenle was going about it. Does that make sense…? Whatever, they were his own thoughts anyway, it wasn’t like anyone was listening.

“Oh, Lele,” Kun chuckled sympathetically, squeezing him tight. “It’s okay to have a crush, you know.”

“I know,” Chenle whined, sinking further down into the covers, “but why does it have to be so hard? All the dramas make it look so easy and fun and light, but in real life it sucks and it hurts, and why won’t Jisungie love me back?”

“Well for one,” Kun started, pressing a kiss to Chenle’s forehead affectionately, “love isn’t easy. It requires a lot of hard work and communication, and that’s something that dramas can’t show you in a few hours or seasons. It takes couples years to establish the right trust and right atmosphere to work well for both of them. Falling in love in a day? That’s a fanfiction trope.

“Second of all, how do you know Jisungie doesn’t love you back? It’s not like the two of you have ever discussed it. If he did love you back, and you never asked him, wouldn’t you feel terrible for missing a chance to be with someone you love? If my guess is correct, then you’ve been crushing on Sungie for a couple years, and you just masked it under play-fighting and harmless bickering. You two even removed the ‘hyung’ title to get closer!

“What I’m saying is that you should really give him a chance. How else will you know?”

“I agree with Kun!” Came a deep, nasally voice, and Chenle shrieked, clutching at Kun’s shirt.

“Good god, Taeyong-hyung,” Chenle griped, staring with wide eyes over at the other bed in the room.

“Sorry!” Taeyong plopped himself on the edge of the bed, ruffling Chenle’s hair affectionately. “I couldn’t help but overhear! This is so cute!” He cooed enthusiastically.

“Chenle?” Kun questioned, sounding a little huffy. “Could you please stop strangling me?”

“Sorry, Ge.”

“So, about Jisungie…”

By the time Taeyong and Kun had explained everything, Chenle was totally exhausted and also kind of not listening. It was a lot of information to take in all at once, and it had his head spinning. It was in between late and early, and brains stopped working long before then.

He shuffled his way through the dorm, an extra fluffy blanket of Kun’s wrapped around him. If he snuck back into the bedroom now, Donghyuck would wake up and beat his ass for it, and that just wasn’t a risk Chenle wanted to take. The couch would have to do.

The walk to the living room was torturous as the floor changed from carpet in the bedrooms to freezing cold hardwood. Chenle wasn’t really one for socks at night, but damn, maybe he should start wearing them if he was going to be up in the middle of the night all the time.

However, when he got to the living room, the couch wasn’t empty at all. Actually, it was quite full and definitely overwhelmed by big, gangly limbs belonging to an equally big, gangly teenager.

Jisung was conked out, buried under the old, tattered, spare blanket from their trainee days, face entirely hidden but light purple hair still showing. Chenle smiled softly, before dragging himself over to the other boy, plopping down next to him. After a little rearranging of limbs, Chenle was tucked next to Jisung, his own blanket tossed over the two of them, spooned together for warmth. And boy, was Chenle careful to make sure it was only for warmth.

Despite everything...all of Kun and Taeyong’s advice...Chenle was still scared. It was scary to tell your crush you liked them! Especially one that you’d had so long! It was a major coin flip, except there were so many possibilities working against him, not just two. Jisung could be ace, aro, uninterested, homophobic, STRAIGHT?! Hell, if he’s straight, he might never talk to me again!

Being different was hard. It’s something that everyone had been through, Chenle knew, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. Being unique? Members of the LGBTQA+ community were pretty unique in their own ways, always separate from the normal people because normal was too narrow a concept for the variety contained within the human race.

What if he’s straight? was the biggest question that haunted Chenle, and it would haunt every single homosexual person with a crush until the end of time because that was just what it was.

What if.

What if our friendship ends because of this silly little crush of mine? Is a crush worth it, or am I in love? What am I willing to risk?

Chenle’s thoughts were quickly spiraling into hell, panicked hell. Every worst-case scenario was getting bigger, blowing way out of proportion, and his brain was getting more and more stressed, more and more anxious. A full-fledged panic attack was starting to take over his mind.

Did it make sense? Probably not. Deep down inside, Chenle knew that there was no way Jisung didn’t like him back. Fanservice wasn’t a thing when there were no cameras around. But...just because it was irrational didn’t mean it wasn’t relevant.

The room was starting to glow a hazy purple colour, smearing across the inky black of the living room, and golden spots were starting to pop up as it got harder to breathe.

Whether it was his panicked heart rate and worsening breathing, or just an increase in negative qi energy, Jisung started to stir next to him, making Chenle jerk away as if he’d been burnt, breathing quickening and heart racing. Sitting up and pulling away felt like he had just stabbed himself in the chest, and his lungs were starting to constrict, suffocating him.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” Chenle breathed, clutching his hands to his chest and stifling a sob. Jisung couldn’t wake up now, not in the middle of an anxiety attack when Chenle needed space most. Could he make it away in time?

“Chenle?” Jisung rasped, rolling over to peer over his shoulder. Sleep was decorating Jisung’s features, making him look even cuter and jwi-like than usual. Sections of his hair were standing up every which direction, and even Jisung’s eyebrows were ruffled, going the wrong direction.

He had never looked so beautiful.

Chenle had never felt so sick.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Chenle froze, trying to swallow another sob, but a muffled piece of it snuck out anyway. He tried a mute nod, which did work, but Chenle knew for sure that he wasn’t fooling anyone. This is bad, bad, bad, he thought. I can’t do this tonight. What if —

“Oh my god.” Jisung’s eyes widened as he took in the boy next to him. “Lele? What’s wrong?”

Chenle tried to make an excuse, to say something, but no distinguishable words came out. All he managed was a whimper.

“Chenle,” Jisung murmured, “Breathe for me, okay? I can’t help you very well if I don’t know what’s wrong.” His fingers reached for Chenle’s shoulder, to pull him closer, but Chenle shied away. Jisung’s face went from panicked to eerily calm in understanding.

“Okay, I won’t touch you. I’m sorry for violating your boundaries, I didn’t know. I won’t do it again. It’s not a nightmare, is it?”

“N-no.”

“Do you want to tell me what it is?”

Suddenly the panic spiked.

“ Oh no, no, no. Please, no, I’m not ready!” Chenle begged, clawing at his arms, blanket totally forgotten. Panic was consuming him, and he actually couldn’t process anything going on. “Give me more time! I can’t do it now.” His voice petered off into a heart wrenching sob.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Jisung’s fingers snapped in front of his face. “I’m not going to force you to do anything, baby. You never need to explain yourself to me.”

“I can’t, Sungie, I can’t!”

“Chenle.” Jisung’s voice sounded like heaven and hell all at once. “Focus on me. Try to breathe, okay? Can you do that?” He mimed a deep breath encouragingly, and Chenle nodded shakily, taking a slightly less shallow breath, willing himself to focus on Jisung, to anchor himself to the boy in front of him. “That’s good, baby, just like that.” Jisung held his hand out, palms up, not reaching forward again, an encouraging half-smile on his face. “There you go.”

“No, no,” Chenle babbled, nails digging in harder, the world swimming like the inside of a kaleidoscope. “I can’t tell you!”

“Shh, hey,” Jisung soothed, murmuring little nonsense noises when Chenle whimpered again. “I’m not asking you to tell me anything, baby.” He sent a half-hearted, crooked smile to Chenle, rearranging himself on the pull-out a little bit, crossing his legs and holding his hands out once again, wiggling his fingers invitingly.

“Come on, Lele, you can do it. Just calm down, then we can try to figure it out or cuddle the problem away, okay? Whatever you need, I will do it for you, to the best of my abilities.”

It took a while (read: over an hour), but when Chenle was finally able to breathe again, heart rate slowing down, Jisung opened his arms wide, and Chenle all but dove into them, clinging to the younger like a lifeline. His chest was still heaving, and his voice was raw from sobbing, but Jisung held him close anyway, smoothing a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry...”

“It’s fine, Lele.”

I don’t know what came over me —”

“Still fine, Lele.”

“I didn’t mean to wake you up, and I know it’s late — ”

“It is fine, Zhong Chenle,” Jisung interrupted, tugging Chenle back to stare into his eyes. “You were upset, and I’m glad I could do something to help.”

Chenle relaxed minutely, getting lost in Jisung’s warm eyes for the umpteenth time, drinking in the expressively deep pools of honey that spoke a thousand words by saying nothing at all.

“I—“ Chenle faltered, swallowing the nonsensical sentence he had been about to utter. Be honest with him. This is your chance! “Okay,” he restarted, taking a deep breath. “Thank you for helping me. I’m really sorry I bothered you, though. I shouldn’t have snuck out here and lain with you anyway.”

Jisung frowned ever so slightly, a crease forming between his brows as he jutted his lips out in a pout. “How many times do I have to tell you,” he huffed, looking serious but sounding adorable, “I will always have time for you! It doesn’t matter if it’s in the middle of the night or during a performance, or even when I’m in the shower! If you need me, I will be there for you because you need me , and that is more than enough motivation for me.” The maknae accentuated his declaration with a punctuated nod.

Chenle sucked in a deep breath, suddenly overwhelmed by emotion once again, of a lighter kind this time.

It was evident that the younger cared about him. It was not a secret. No one would care for him the way Jisung had if they weren’t totally invested in his wellbeing.

Jisung never touched anyone the way he touched Chenle, and he never called anyone ‘baby’ as he had just done. Chenle had also never heard Jisung’s voice so soft...it was like candy floss dipped in velvet, sweet and smooth, so encouraging and steady. The way he’d taken care of him through the panic attack...surely something like that couldn’t be faked?

“Did you really mean everything you said?” He asked tentatively, shying away from Jisung’s steady gaze.

“About being there for you?” Jisung cocked his head curiously, gently stroking his thumb over the curve of the other boy’s jaw, silently asking him to look up again. Chenle did, and the look in Jisung’s eyes exploded every nerve ending in his body because holy shit, a look that loving could not be masked. It was totally unguarded and pure, meant for his eyes, and his eyes alone. Chenle’s heart swelled. There was no more doubt in his mind: Jisung liked him back.

Suddenly, the arms around his shoulders seemed warmer, stronger, and the legs framing his own were less awkward and more comfortable. When he turned his head back to nestle into Jisung’s chest, he felt more secure hearing the younger boy’s heartbeat and breathing, thrumming slow and steady. The fingers carding through his hair stopped emitting the casual platonic-ness that Chenle had stressed his brain into believing and started giving off romantic, intimate vibes. The entire room’s atmosphere shifted from grateful to something thicker, heavy with emotion and underlying meaning.

Almost as if in a daze, Chenle slowly reached up and laid his index finger on Jisung’s plush bottom lip, dragging it down ever so slightly. It looked so delicious right now, Chenle just wanted to nibble it. The way Jisung’s mouth fell open slightly had Chenle transfixed, and the quiet exhale that spilled onto Chenle’s fingertips was the sole hottest thing he had ever heard.

He started to lean forward, eyes sliding closed…

“Chenle?” Jisung’s voice was distorted by his incapacitated lip, and his eyes were wide with shock, but he refused to let go of the other boy, holding him tighter.

“Hm?” The boy’s eyes snapped open and up to the younger’s, fingers stilling in the air, hovering centimetres away from Jisung’s cheek that he’d been about to caress.

“What are you doing?” He sounded strangled and very not-in-control. The urge to capture those lips right in front of him was overpowering. Jisung was sure his breathing was coming out heavy and uneven, his entire body frozen as Chenle’s fingertip remained on his lips, looking up through his lashes with inky eyes. Chenle’s lips had never been closer before, a literal three centimetres separating them.

It was well known that every member of NCT was gorgeous, but Jisung couldn’t help but feel like people too seldom appreciated Chenle’s visuals. Granted, they were not just their pretty faces and voices, nor the calculated pieces of their real personalities that they revealed to the public, but Jisung still thought Chenle was the most beautiful member of NCT.

The angles of his cheekbones and jawline were cloaked in the softest, smoothest creamy skin, a perfectly round nose perched above thin and kissable lips. His eyes were always twinkling with mirth and there was something just unexpectedly alluring about him that drew Jisung in from the very first day he meet him. Now, though, he can say that it’s Chenle’s personality that made him stay. You could never find someone sweeter or kinder, no one less caring or fun. Yes, they bickered, but it was all in good humor and never serious. Chenle’s effervescent laugh would always be medicine for Jisung’s soul.

However, the instant the question left his lips, Chenle was drawing away from him, excuses beginning to fall from his lips as shutters pulled down over his face, tamping down the emotions that had been freely written across it earlier. A guarded, sheltered expression was already being crafted over his features, building a fortress around the boy Jisung loved.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—“

“For fuck’s sake, will you stop apologizing?” Jisung cried, scrambling to catch Chenle, who was already crawling off the pull-out couch. He managed to grab ahold of the other boy’s wrist and gave it a tug, pulling him back onto the bed. Chenle fell against his chest with an ‘oof’, and immediately went to untangle himself from Jisung, mumbling something unintelligible, but the younger rolled them over, pinning Chenle under him.

Both boys were panting slightly, breath mingling, and Jisung’s arms were shaking a little from holding himself up over Chenle. The older boy still looked confused, but he wasn’t trying to escape anymore, and Jisung lessened the gap between their lips a little more.

“Jisung, I really don’t think we should be doing this right now,” Chenle tried, blushing scarlet under Jisung’s intense gaze. His expression betrayed his words, however, Chenle’s lips parted, eyes dilated and low-lidded, and his chin tipped up to allow Jisung easy access if he so wished.

And oh, how Jisung wished.

“Fuck that,” was all Jisung said before he leaned down and captured Chenle’s lips between his own.

Sparks exploded behind his closed eyelids as their lips met, and Jisung never wanted to let this feeling go. It felt like a dream, too surreal to explain properly. Finally, his brain sang contentedly, finally. The gentle pressure of his own lips against Chenle’s was magical and addictive, but after a few seconds, Jisung pulled away, eyes sliding open to assess his unresponsive crush.

Is he mad at me now?

Chenle’s eyes were closed, and a serene look had taken over his face. He must have sensed Jisung staring at him because his eyes blinked open leisurely, bright and alert.

“Why did you stop?” His lips formed a perfect pout around the syllables, and Jisung’s entire being was lit aflame when Chenle hooked his hands around his neck and dragged him down for another kiss.

As it turns out, kisses were much better when both parties were fully engaged and dedicated to the process. Chenle’s lips were insistent and searching, coaxing little groans out of Jisung, intent on making him forget his name. Chenle’s own noises were equally as delicious, and Jisung happily swallowed them up, nipping gently to procure more.

The sun was beginning to rise by the time the pair could bear to part from each other, and the dorm was starting to stir around them.

Jisung’s lips were a little sore from kissing for so long, but the swollen swell of Chenle’s reddened, spit-slick lips made it all worth it, barely visible from where he was tucked up under Jisung’s arm, head pillowed on his chest. The boy’s fingers were wandering the plane of Jisung’s torso, making him shiver as Chenke traced idle circles over his shirt.

They hadn’t discussed anything yet, and they would need to, to figure somethings out, to address what this was going to be, but for now, they could just bask in each other’s warmth. They could enjoy the sensation of being with someone you loved, curled up together in mutual affection, find solace in the fact that they were loved back.

Chenle’s fingers slowly stilled on his chest as the other boy finally succumbed to sleep, fiery curls tucked under Jisung’s chin. The maknae tilted his head just enough to press a kiss to his best friend/crush/boyfriend’s head, before tucking him close and settling in to sleep too.

“Sleep tight, Lele.” I love you.

Chapter Text

From a street viewpoint, Neo City was just another noisy bar and club spewing their noise pollution and flashing lights out onto the road as people hooked up on the sidewalks surrounding the unassuming building. The engrossed and scantily clad couples were often not composed of the people who entered together but rather those who came to find someone to spend the night with in one of the infamous red-light districts of Seoul. 

The thin cloud of aromatic fog spilling from the open door gave off a sense of mystery and intrigue, and the bras, panties, and boxers strung on clotheslines across the windows certainly sent quite the message to passers-by. The pounding thrum of bass and electronic synthesizers that comprised the trendiest of modern remixes were nowhere to be found in Neo City’s repertoire, instead, the bass was classier and the music less synth-heavy. In fact, their regular DJ, Mark Lee was known for composing most of the raunchy and beat-driven tunes that oozed through the club speakers. 

When one entered the actual club, bypassing the well-muscled bouncers and omegas draped fetchingly against their niches in the walls, many things could stand out to the naked eye. The standard glittering disco balls found in the cheapest clubs were replaced by a chandelier, wired to glow in neon light strips, lights climbing up the arms of the iron,  reminiscent of bioluminescent jellyfish that inhabited the depths of the ocean, and illuminating the club with rainbow lights that pulsed to the beat of the music. 

The DJ’s stage could catch eyes, standing tall in the easternmost corner of the room, a massive metal behemoth wrapped with lights and wires that fed into the inputs and outputs of various instruments used to make the signature music of the club. Behind the bars sat a light-haired man with an angular jawline, bright tattoos, and wide, innocent eyes that belied the wildness contained within him. 

 Perhaps the stairs down into the dance floor intrigued the partiers who loved to strut their stuff as they got lost in the alcohol and rhythm of the music. Or maybe the bar that spanned the whole of the left wall was the main attraction for lonely singles, college kids, and people who just wanted to get wasted. Oftentimes, the sole bartender was smirking against the backdrop of his alcohol collection, cleaning glasses with a rag tirelessly, a come hither look simmering under half-lidded eyes. Or maybe it was simply the endless layers of pheromones and scents that sprawled the club, not targeted to a single sub-gender but rather, all of them. 

Thousands of things within the limits of Neo City could fascinate the ignorant club-goer, unaware of the establishment’s reputation, but it was fact that most people were enticed to stay by the pedestals lining the perimeter of the dance floor in lieu of stripper poles. The stone pedestals, created to model Grecian Corinthian columns, were monoliths that towered just high enough to give the dancers the illusion of divinity but low enough that the important things were easily visible. 

Neo City was known for its spectacular aesthetics and peculiar show, and their go-go dancers were the main attraction, the gods and goddess of the pedestals, just three of them blessing the crowd at a time. 

Some of the most talented dancers of the underground decorated the pedestals nightly, racking in obscene tips as they worked to do what they did best: turn people on and drip with sensuality. Their bodies shone with sweat and glitter for every performance, no matter how hard they danced, no matter how many clothes were removed over the course of the night. Each dancer performed their own routine, whether it be choreographed or freestyled, and it was unlikely to catch the beta, alpha, or omega dancing the same one ever again. 

Jaemin could attest to that because he frequented Neo City at least five days a week and he’d literally never seen Yuta, Ten, Donghyuck, Jeno, Taeyong, or Jaehyun dance the same thing. In fact, he wasn’t even sure any of them wore the same colour glitter two nights in a row. 

However, Jaemin did know for sure that even though he’d been to Neo City a thousand times and was on a first-name basis with everyone who worked the club, the wonder never quite wore off. There was a special magic found in the neon green of their signature drink and in their dancers, music, and decor that just drew people in. Jaemin, like so many others, had lost large sums of money to both the bar and the dancers before he’d been lucky enough to score a date with not only their roguish bartender, but their most prized dancer as well. 

He’d gone out with Renjun first, drawn in by the cunning in the beta’s eyes and the smooth way he waltzed around his bar as if he was dancing on air. Jaemin remembered stumbling around drunkenly, looking for a pen, when the bartender’s phone was suddenly in his hand, contact already pulled up and a cup of water being shoved into his other. 

Their date had been pretty simple, the standard coffeehouse at a blistering eight am before class before they’d learned they went to the same college and had bonded over the easy conversation that flowed between them since. In no time, Jaemin and Renjun were spending the night at each other’s flat, scented candles burning down throughout the night as they stayed awake hours after Renjun’s shifts, talking aimlessly about everything and nothing at all. 

Jeno’s date came slower. In fact, it had been quite an intriguing development because Jaemin and Renjun had finally agreed to be boyfriends when Renjun admitted he had something else to lay out on the table before they could proceed and be happily mated— no, married— dating. 

“The thing is, my roommate that I’ve mentioned a few times? We’ve kind of been in an open relationship, but he respects my space which is why he hasn’t been home when you have. 

“I swear I didn’t mean to stay quiet about it, I just forgot that, you know, open relationships aren’t mainstream. I was so used to be in one that I didn’t even think about telling you first. I am really sorry about it, and I understand if you don’t want to date me anymore, or if you want to be exclusive, but if it’s the latter, I’m afraid I’ll feel the former.” Renjun had confessed to him, twiddling his fingers against the small table in Jaemin’s kitchen as he stared stubbornly down at the tattoos on his forearms. 

Jaemin had taken his time to process it for a minute, milling over the thought of sharing Renjun in his head for a while before asking, “who is he?” 

“Lee Jeno,” Renjun had replied. “He works with me at Neo City. You’ve definitely seen him before, he works the beta pedestal on weekdays?” 

“Ah, I know him. He’s the one with the dark hair and sexy eye smile, right?” Renjun had nodded, and Jaemin had been sold. What were the chances of his favourite dancer and his favourite bartender dating? He had a new plan now: meet Jeno properly and hook him too. 

They’d shaken hands on their new boyfriends-but-not-exclusive status before it was time to go to Neo City, Renjun for work and Jaemin for admiring his newest target

And, well, three nights later, Jeno and Jaemin were on their first date, both shy and reserved for a little while before Jaemin laced their fingers together and sparks started to grow. 

Originally, they’d both loved Renjun first, but the open dynamic and Jaemin’s constant presence in their flat wore Jeno down until all the shyness was stripped away, leaving only his heart out on the table. 

Jaemin had been so happy to collect it and drop his own in Jeno’s fully capable hands in exchange. 

And, well, Jaemin had been happily dating them both exclusively for several years now, and he had become used to the lifestyles they’ve created for themselves (and the sleep schedules they’ve fucked) but some days he just wasn’t too keen to share. 

Like today, for example. 

“Renjunnie?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Is that wolf staring at Jeno?” 

“Jaemin,” Renjun sighed, shooting said boy an exasperated look as he cleaned off a martini glass with a spare rag, “you can’t keep people from staring at him, you know. It’s literally his job to be stared at. You knew that getting into this! Once you accept that fact and move on, you’ll be much less miserable waiting for us to get off work.” Each line was delivered with the air of someone who had said the same thing far too many times to count, and it was rich with exasperation. 

“I know that,” Jaemin whined petulantly, staring at his half-empty soju glass cupped between his hands, “but I want to be the only one oogling him, not all those other wolves!” He shot Renjun a pitiful look from under his lashes, sighing dramatically. “Jeno’s too pretty to be up there.” 

“Maybe so, but that’s the point, Jaem,” Renjun grumbled, reaching behind him for a new glass and temporarily captivating Jaemin with the flex of his biceps as his tattoos shifted against the taut skin before he was shaking his head back out and properly listening to his boyfriend speak. 

“He’s the Beta for tonight,” Renjun continued. “He has to dance up there, and he has to look hot. He has to attract attention. Where do you think our money comes from, hm? Do you think I pull it out of my ass? No, Jeno and I have to make it in tips. Not all of us can make money off looking pretty on social media and filming scandalous videos.” 

Jaemin just groaned louder, making grabby hands across the bar top for his boyfriend, fingers stretching for his narrow hips to no avail. Renjun was wholly unaffected by Jaemin’s antics, as usual, picking up another glass to clean with a passive expression on his face. 

“Not at work, baby. I’ve got a persona to keep up.” 

Ick, his persona. 

The beta was the infamous playboy bartender at Neo City, known all across the nightlife of Seoul, and he made good money most nights, both from admiration tips and actual drinks served. His winks and acerbic wit could reel in the strongest of wolves with little trouble, and with a few well-mixed drinks and sways of his hip, Renjun could be in thirty-seven thousand won in just minutes. It’s no wonder Jaemin fell into his trap so easily. 

But, Renjun’s persona aside, between his legendary daiquiris and soju-sake mixes and Jeno’s dancing, Jaemin’s boyfriends weren’t anything to scoff at. Maybe they weren’t working classically respectable jobs, but they were doing just fine at the moment. Hell, they made more money in a night than most people working office jobs! 

Not too shabby for a finance and a dance major. 

“But I only want Jeno to look pretty for us,” Jaemin whined louder, throwing back the last dregs of his soju. “I thought he was ours!” He slammed the cup down with a little too much force and the glass protested its return to the counter, cracking slightly along the rim. 

“Nana, we’re not having this conversation again,” Renjun asserted, sliding his boyfriend a cosmopolitan to replace his previous drink, chucking the broken shot glass in the general vicinity of the trashcan. “Just shush, behave, and enjoy the performance. Jeno will be off in an hour and a half, just be patient.” He ruffled the alpha’s hair before slinking off to seduce his newest customer, a medium-height, clothed-entirely-in-white man with dulled down orange hair. 

“I don’t want to be patient!” Jaemin called after his boyfriend’s rapidly retreating back, but the comment went ignored. Frowning, Jaemin turned around on the stool and watched Jeno dance, sipping at the hot pink drink and twirling the plastic umbrella between his fingers with a gloomy expression. 

The smoothness with which Jeno writhed and body-rolled on stage was so sinful yet so beautiful that it felt like watching heaven through the eyes of hell. Jeno could twine himself around imaginary people like no one’s business, looking absolutely delicious as he ground on nothing but air. The way his hips thrust to the beat or the way he winked salaciously dragged heat through most wolves’ bodies, and it did nothing except solidify his place as the best Neo City had to offer. 

And his eyes, oh god, don’t get Jaemin started on the sensuality that exuded out of them when he performed, it might cause an unfortunate problem in his pants. The pools of endless obsidian that shone through the lights were the most captivating thing about Jeno, his cute eye-smile replaced by dangerous gleams and simmering heat lidded by smokey eyeshadow that made them pop. 

It was so infuriatingly attractive, and it made Jaemin want to touch so badly. 

But he couldn’t touch so he resigned himself to watching the gorgeousness that was Lee Jeno. 

Hands reached for him as he danced on the podium, and Jeno delivered, petting hands, sending winks all while freestyling his lascivious dance. His sleeveless, faux leather vest thrown over his tank top glimmered under the strobe lights, a red jacket’s flaps whipping through the air as he moved, skinny jeans clearly straining around his thighs. 

And then Haechan hopped up there, and a growl ripped through Jaemin’s snarling teeth. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t like Hyuck, no, he loved him, Hyuck was amazing, but when he was Haechan and his hands were all over Jeno, smoothing over his pecs as they ground on each other, Jaemin’s wolf became livid. 

His rut was definitely coming up, no questions asked. 

Jaemin really hated jealousy. People weren’t kidding when they talked about it being one of the ugliest emotions. It dug its claws into your skin and crawled in through the wounds it made, clinging to you like a parasite. 

Logically, he knew Jeno would come back to him at the end of the day. Both his boyfriends were entirely committed to him, but they were also equally committed to their jobs (and he’d never ask them not to be), and today, Jaemin’s brain just wasn’t capable of processing that.

So, he watched the omega run his hands all over his boyfriend, body rolling in sync against each other as the crowd went wild and slid his glass away before he could accidentally snap the fragile stem in half. 

His other boyfriend slunk up with a glass of water and a kiss, pressed to his cheek when no one was watching, before squeezing his thigh and rolling up his sleeves to further reveal his ink and going back to work. 

Jaemin watched him with a rueful smile as Renjun toggled several of the levers suspended against the wall, eyes drawn to the string of numbers surrounding a heart on the middle of his forearm. He never got tired of admiring Renjun’s tattoos.

 The heart itself was made up of a treble and bass clef intertwined, and the figures were the birthdates of “the four most important people” in Renjun’s life. It was easy symbolism of his love for music and his actual loves, both familial and romantic, and Jaemin was honoured to be there with both Jeno and his boyfriend’s parents. There was no higher honour than being viewed as highly as one's parents.

 He thought. 

Hundreds of tiny tattoos decorated the space between his wrist and his main pieces, most of which were done for free by Renjun’s cousin, and nearly all of them were Renjun’s own designs. Personally, Jaemin really liked the Moomin swimming in the cocktail glass, but all of them were distinctly Renjun. 

Trailing further up Renjun’s arm, there was an earthy green vine decorated in both thorns and bleeding roses, twined around the space where his forearm met his elbow, disappearing into the sleeve of his shirt. Jaemin knew without being able to see that the cuff gave way to delicate stars that spilt across the smooth expanse of Renjun’s right arm. Inked on the inside of his bicep was the phrase, per aspera ad astra , written in the spiralling cursive that his boyfriend loved so dearly.

Through the thorns and to the stars. 

Renjun sidled back up to him with a smirk, interrupting his admiration session, twirling a napkin between his fingers with a phone number on it before impaling it on the nail below the bar counter with the countless others he’d collected thus far into the night. 

Jaemin rolled his eyes at him, mouthing how many? And Renjun just winked, making Jaemin a bang his head on the table as the bartender started prepping yet another new drink, hips swinging enough to draw in wandering eyes once again.  

Both his boyfriends were so sexy when they worked, and it always screwed with his head. The way they shifted between their work personas and their normal personalities was so seamless and distinct that you knew the minute one was off and the other was on, whether it left you dealing with a cute house cat or a wild tiger. And as much as Jaemin loved every part of them, as much as he tried to fight it, all he ever wanted to do when he was at Neo City was to touch and not share which didn’t work very well. 

Maybe he should just stop coming here. 

Nah, the music and sights were too good for that! 

Jaemin nursed the baby blue margarita that Renjun slid him silently, brooding as Mark’s song, Drippin’, filtered through the bodies around him, waiting for the right moment to pounce. 

As it turned out, the next hour was not excruciatingly painful to witness, and Jaemin did indeed not explode upon seeing his boyfriend act attracted to Hyuck. In fact, Jaemin thought he did a rather good job of tamping down his hormonal jealousy as he watched his only friend who wasn’t also his boyfriend feel up his actual boyfriend. 

That was until Donghyuck came down off his go-go boy pedestal on his own break and draped himself all over Renjun, who had taken a seat on his barstool behind the counter, silver body glitter rubbing off all over the beta. His lips kissed up the bartender’s neck absently, pausing to scent him every few seconds, and he was clearly drunk, or at least tipsy, but the sight wasn’t helping Jaemin’s alcohol-addled brain. 

He was definitely far too plyed to be thinking reasonably, and that was saying something because Jaemin was usually a bottomless pit when it came to holding his liquor. 

Nevertheless, his brain was failing to make the connection between the fact that Donghyuck had long since ended his casual hookups with Renjun due to their new exclusiveness, and the fact that Renjun himself looked entirely disgusted to be dealing with the lapful of sweaty omega he’d been dealt. His mind and instincts were far too focused on the fact that someone else was touching his boyfriend, who, in fact, had not been inviting touches, and that someone was scenting his beta, who, again, wasn’t inviting it. 

If Jaemin wasn’t allowed to touch, he would be damned if Donghyuck could get away with it. 

Luckily for Jaemin’s sanity, Renjun had shoved him off before Jaemin did something that qualified as Dumb Shit and put him in a chokehold until Donghyuck moaned, to which Renjun dropped him with a pained look and forcibly removed him from his bar. 

It hadn’t stopped Donghyuck from trying to seduce him from across the club, the omega happily keeping eye contact with Renjun through each body roll on his pedestal, but the beta was wholly unaffected as he picked up customer after customer, phone number after phone number. 

That had made Jaemin feel a little better. 

So, of course, Jeno had to go and ruin it. 

In the short amount of time that Jaemin had spent not paying attention to the beta for the sake of his already-too-tight skinny jeans, Jeno had since removed his red jacket, tossing it to some lucky admirer who would probably covet the hot dancer’s sweat-soaked jacket (Jaemin could pretend all he wanted but he definitely would have too), along with his leather vest-harness thing. 

His chest, however, was still covered by a black tank top that read “bless the boys who sin to bless”, but Jaemin was relatively certain that if Jeno was taking off clothes this late in the game, it would be coming off soon as well. His toned arms were shining under the strobe lights, covered in the standard amount of Neo City glitter, and the way the veins and muscles sifted in his arms as he danced made Jaemin want to drool. Or just drool. 

No one could testify against him.

It was his word against the napkin’s. 

And then it all went to shit when Mark’s remix hit the beat drop and Jeno ripped open his shirt. 

At least he was right. Everything was coming off tonight. 

Perhaps Jeno would just go all out like Jaehyun had suggested and take off his bottoms too. 

Jaemin could die a blessed man. 

It’d be a worthy way to die. 

Anyway, he thought, dreamily admiring his boyfriend between the flashes of the strobe lights that were now pointed directly into his eyes, that wasn’t important anymore. 

What was important was that Jeno’s glistening-with-red-glitter, chiselled-from-marble abs were on display, looking rock hard and delicious, and maybe they weren’t the only thing that was the latter. The expressions on his face conveyed every lewd emotion one could imagine, and Jaemin was feeling very attacked by the visual but very focused on the reaction it pulled from the crowd around his boyfriend. 

His jealousy reared its head higher when Jeno, in a rare show of performer’s high, hopped off the platform and into the crowd, smirking wildly. Doyoung was going to kill him for breaking protocol, but clearly, that thought was far from the forefront of Jeno’s mind. 

Jaemin lost sight of him and desperately tried to grasp at the last shreds of his self-control, begging his inner wolf to calm down before he did some dumb shit. It felt a lot like swimming upstream, but Jaemin managed to lasso it and tie it to the metaphorical pole somewhere between Endlessly Horny and Responsible Human Being. 

He had never wanted Jeno’s shift to be over more. 

Jaemin was about to raise his hand to flag Renjun over for his fifth beverage when a barely-audible squeak interrupted him, followed by glass shattering on the ground and counter. A shard spun past Jaemin on the lacquered wood, and he looked around bewilderedly only to gasp in shock. 

There was an omega wrapped around Renjun, hands laced around his neck, cupping his cheeks, dragging him in for a passionate kiss. His boyfriend looked shocked, eyes wide open, sleeves rolled up to his biceps now, straining against his skin, milky skin and shadowy ink on full display. His hand was still open as if he had forgotten the cup it had been holding wasn’t there anymore.

The omega was half-seated on the bar in front of him, quite unhygienically if Jaemin said so himself, a mesh shirt laid over a crop top, tie threaded through the collar, their skirt fanned out innocently with seductive thigh-high boots contrasting it nicely. As the kiss continued, their hand started to drift from Renjun’s neck down to his chest, then his abdomen, dipping into dangerous territory. Jaemin couldn’t tell their sex or gender as their hair was short and their figure was highly androgynous, but all he needed to know was that someone was touching his boyfriend and that person was not Jeno. 

God stinking dammit, what chemicals were in the fog tonight in this god-forsaken club? 

Jaemin stormed over, a growl already starting to spill from his lips as he forcibly but carefully removed the omega from Renjun, not wanting to hurt them but wanting them far far away from his boyfriend. He scooped them up before setting them back on the floor with a stern glare, vision hazing for a second as he felt his eyes flash. 

“Hi, that’s my boyfriend you’re groping. Would you mind, you know, not? Thanks, have a great night, bye!” Jaemin wrapped an arm around Renjun’s slim waist possessively, baring his teeth just a little in hopes they would get the hint. 

They did no such thing. 

Instead, they smiled at Jaemin, a predatory look flashing across their face as they stalked closer to him, biting their lip. “But he’s so pretty,” they simpered, reaching out to trail a finger down Renjun’s cheek. “I couldn’t help but taste.” Red the colour of overripe strawberries glittered in their eyes, and Jaemin flinched as the pheromones hit him. Alpha. 

Ah shit. If it became a battle of dominance, a Jaemin was toast. 

Better stick to sass. 

“Do you just go around tasting random bartenders then?”

“When they look this delicious, yes.” Their finger dropped onto Renjun’s lips, dragging the bottom one down and smearing his lipstick, and Jaemin lunged for them only to be dragged back by the beta. 

“That’s enough, thank you,” Renjun snapped, sounding aggravated from where he was shoving his boyfriend behind the bar. “Jiwoo-noona, you don’t need to antagonize my boyfriend, and we’re not dating or hooking up so please never kiss me again, that was disgusting. And Jaemin, for god’s sake, put your fangs away you dumbass and quit emanating your possessive alpha pheromones! Some poor omega is going to go into asphyxiation shock because you’re suffocating them!” 

Jaemin sputtered and protested as Renjun pushed a dirty rag into his hand and pointed at the surface demandingly before going to stand next to his “noona” and talking quietly with her. Jaemin pouted as he cleaned, ears straining in vain to hear what they were talking about. 

Someone came up and asked for an order that nearly made Jaemin faint from the specifications in it (who puts vodka with tequila and requires a yellow and blue, polka dotted umbrella?), and he was just about to plead mercy from the customer to avoid accidentally poisoning them and exploding their liver when Renjun was back, whirling around and pouring various things into the glass without needing to hear the order at all. 

Must be a regular then.

It was honestly fascinating to watch the beta work, not to mention watch the muscles in his arms flex as he operated the machines. Renjun was good at what he did, and Jaemin certainly wouldn’t have had a clue how to create tasty one-way trips to hangovers with pretty colours. 

He found his eyes wandering back over to Jiwoo, curious what Renjun had talked about with her as he waited. However, his cheeks reddened just as quickly as he watched her unbutton her top a little more before the other alpha was blowing Jaemin a flirty kiss and winking as she slunk away to find a new person to seduce. 

He swore if Jeno was next— 

Once Renjun had finished with the customer's drink of death and collected another phone number, he turned to his boyfriend, eyeing the alpha with a look that could have electrocuted him on spot. 

Suddenly, Jaemin found himself pinned to the liquor cabinet, Renjun’s lips a bruising force against his own, fangs sinking into the soft skin of his lips without mercy. His boyfriend’s hips pressed against his own, and a low groan fell from his lips as the action matched up with a swipe of Renjun’s tongue as it forced its way in. Tiny moans spilt between them as Renjun tugged on his hair harshly, biting at Jaemin’s lips every chance he got. 

The pleasurable pain of fingers knotting in his hair combined with the hot press of Renjun’s body against his, pheromones enveloping them, made his whole wolf sing as he barely resisted the urge to bare his neck for Renjun to claim him right now. 

It was messy and hot, more of a battle of tongues and clashing teeth than an actual kiss. Jaemin was starting to become dizzy as his blood rushed south and his breath continued to be stolen from him. 

Their hips rolled up against each other’s, an electrifying, undulating wave as they both craved friction, and Jaemin finally collected enough of his wits to kiss back properly, starting to map out Renjun’s mouth with his tongue, pressing against his sensitive spots effortlessly. A particularly hard suck and well-timed thrust of his hips had Renjun pulling away enough to separate their lips, sliding his thigh between Jaemin’s as he caged him further against the cool metal of the case. 

“What did I tell you about behaving?” Renjun’s voice dripped condescending tones as his lips moved against Jaemin’s swollen ones. The gruffness in his voice made Jaemin’s wolf want to roll over and his eyes rolled back at the thought of Renjun—

Instead, he slumped down a little, submitting to the beta’s nudges at his neck, letting Renjun sink his teeth into the tender skin above his scent glands, tongue laving at the marks. Each press of his teeth made Jaemin see stars as his neck was abused, sensitive as always and attuned to the arousal pouring off his boyfriend. 

He didn’t care who saw, not when he was finally getting the attention he’d craved all night. 

“I’m sorry, Injoonie,” he whined, trying to nuzzle his cheek against his forearm but only getting shoved off. “I didn’t mean to get jealous, she was just kissing you and you’re...you’re mine.” 

“I’m not your property, Jaemin,” Renjun snarled, teeth snapping in his face menacingly, making Jaemin shrink back, but the way his body shuddered when Jaemin had said it told a different story. The way their hips were positioned said differently. “You alphas and your territorial bullshit,” he hissed, but there was little bite to the words. 

Then, the bar bell rang, and Renjun froze, loosening his grip on Jaemin’s shoulders as he smoothed out his clothes again in an attempt to look as if he hadn’t just made out with his boyfriend against the liquor cabinet. “Go sit under the bar,” Renjun hissed as the bell rang again, impatiently. “I’ll deal with you later.” 

In an instant, his whole aura changed, posture changing to a slight slump as alpha pheromones wafted across the bar, scent sweetening a little more on top of the arousal dripping from him as his smile turned flirtier and softer, less assertive and dominant. The persona was back and geared towards alphas this time, he thought. Well, dominant alphas, he amended, not submissive ones like himself. 

Jaemin groaned at him but unstuck himself from the cabinet with a nasty wet noise as the sweat on his shirt clung to his skin. He desperately avoided looking at his boyfriend as he subtly hid his crotch behind his hands, taking the small walk of shame to the edge of the countertop before ducking under it and settling into the seat cut into the floor of the bar for this exact reason.

 It was a deep mahogany and very stylishly carved by someone who was far too talented to make furniture that wouldn’t be seen by the general public, but Jaemin digressed. He, at least, could appreciate the intricate snakes, apples, and trees that decorated the arms of the flat chair as he glared at Renjun’s legs while rummaging for his cushions. Usually his little brother, Jisung, occupied the hidden seat, but Jaemin had used it a few times when he didn’t feel like looking like the lonely dude at the bar. 

Also, he used it when Renjun was punishing him. Like now! 

He amused himself by counting dust bunnies and stroking up Renjun’s calves whenever the beta came close enough, relishing in the twitches he received as the bartender struggled to keep it under control. Jaemin found an interestingly shaped bottle with multiple knots up the length of it, filled with a blood-red substance as he waited for Jeno’s shift to end and uncorked it lazily, taking sips from time to time. 

He was nowhere near sloshed anymore anyway. 

When the music plummeted into the distinctive launchpad beats, the windshield wiper squeaks in the backing track unmistakable, Jaemin’s ears perked up. He knew this song! He loved Jeno’s performance for this song! He moved to crawl out from under the bar to watch the closing performance, but Renjun’s hand found its way to the top of his head, pushing down on it as he flirted with some female above Jaemin’s head. 

Rude. 

He whined, kicking at Renjun’s leg in protest as the beta held him down, turning his face up to glare at his boyfriend before Renjun squished his nose a little too hard, and Jaemin curled back up under the bar in a ball, nursing the bruised cartilage with his knees to his chest. 

Baby Don’t Stop was the closing song every night for the 2:19 shift (weirdly specific, right? Jaemin was long past questioning Ten’s peculiar scheduling), and this time it was Jeno’s turn to close. He’d throw on that gorgeous navy blazer with nothing on under it and drop it low, oozing sex appeal while performing intense choreo with ease. Oh and also? Jeno rapped in that husky voice Jaemin lived so much. 

Dammit, Renjun. 

He sat and sulked, plotting bloody murder and revenge, until the closing whispers of the song started, signaling the end of Jeno’s shift. Jaemin immediately perked up, and he eagerly started counting down the seconds until Jeno would show up at the bar. 

Finally, he could get out of this infernal place! 

Meanwhile, the audience screamed, shouted, cried, and probably threw their underwear at the dancers, which would end up in the window come the next morning. 

Neo City certainly had its quirks, but Jaemin couldn’t deny there was a lot of personality contained within the walls of the club. 

Like, you know, the aforementioned undergarments in the windows. 

This is what people got for letting Ten and Yuta run a club together. 

Renjun interrupted his mindless musings by dumping a pile of assorted paper materials in front of him and handing him his phone. “Enter these in my contacts for me, will you? I need to close up and change.” He patted Jaemin’s cheek before walking away, not giving him a chance to say anything, footsteps clicking on the tiles and glass crunching under his feet. 

Jaemin eyed the stack of paper with disdain, but he knew better than to cross his boyfriend. He sighed and wallowed in self-pity for a minute, even though he knew Renjun just kept them for a record now, rather than a list of potential friends with benefits and hookups. 

He did admire the beautiful picture of himself and Jeno wearing a puppy filter, however, for a few seconds before unlocking his phone and getting to work. 

It became pretty thoughtless to type in all the required fields and phone numbers, and Jaemin found himself distancing from the work as he waited for his boyfriends to come back. 

Liu Yangyang, Yoon Sanha, Ahn Somyi, Park Chaewon, the list went on and on. 

Jaemin dutifully added each and every one of them, marking them all with the customary starting margarita emoji if they were new or adding a dollar sign next to the repeats (Jiwoo had a staggering seven signs) until he came across Donghyuck’s name in the mix. 

He chuckled as he looked up their friend’s contact among the thousands of names Renjun had collected over the years. Next to Donghyuck’s name was a proliferation of middle-finger emojis, and Jaemin took great delight in counting them (there were 347) before adding the 348th with a flourish. 

This is what he got for trying to seduce Jaemin’s boyfriend. 

By the time he finished, the overall noise of the crowd had considerably lowered, probably due, in part, to the changing go-go dancer shifts. If he remembered correctly, Taeyong and Ten were next and would perform for about an hour until the club closed. 

Luckily for Jaemin, Renjun got off an hour before closing time so they wouldn’t be hauling as many incapacitated and inebriated bodies off the dance floor come three-thirty. Unluckily for Jaemin, Yuta was apparently making rounds and took Renjun’s absence as an excuse to come visit the bar where he promptly found Jaemin’s feet poking out from between the cabinets. 

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Yuta crowed, peering down at Jaemin with an infuriatingly hot smirk. “Is baby lost?”  A slim black choker hugged his neck, and the material strained a little as he spoke, drying Jaemin’s throat out a little. 

If there was a single person at Neo City who could pick Jaemin apart better than his boyfriends, it was Yuta. He seemed to take great joy in flustering Jaemin out of his ever-loving wits. 

A silver tag hung from a loop in the middle of the silk tied around the alpha's neck, and a silver chain was hooked onto the bottom of the pendant, dripping down into the older man’s shirt. A scandalous four buttons were undone on his shirt, revealing his ripped pecs and the tops of his spectacular abs, easily rivaling, if not surpassing, Jeno’s. A tiny glimpse of the navel stud that Jaemin knew was there could be seen if he looked hard enough. Not that he was looking. It was just easy to see.  If Jaemin was being honest, Yuta should’ve just taken it off because it certainly wasn’t functioning as an actual covering at this point. 

Hoops, gems, and studs glittered in his ears, some of which dangled chains, pulling eyes to his strong jawline, while a diamond stud graced the right side of his slender nose. Yuta clearly had a thing for piercings that was as big as Renjun’s for tattoos. 

Well, Jaemin had always liked bad boys. 

The metal and Yuta’s style of dress gave off a powerful aura, but the sharpness lingering in his eyes, pooling in the red tint to his obsidian irises, was what captivated most of the alpha’s unfortunate prey, drawn in by the lure of danger and the promise of a passionate night. 

Everything about Yuta screamed dangerous, and it was for that same reason that Jaemin preferred to stay far, far away. He had always gotten the sense that if he hadn’t been dating Renjun and Jeno, Yuta would’ve long since scooped him up and devoured him. 

Jaemin shrunk away from him as Yuta leaned in closer, smiling a devilishly wide smile as he pushed a hand through his mane of scarlet red hair. He could feel his heart beating a million miles a minute, both in mild fear of the gorgeous man in front of him and also because Renjun and Jeno were going to kill him if they caught him like this, melting like putty in front of Yuta. 

“You know, I could always use another dancer,” Yuta mused, reaching out to grip Jaemin’s chin and tilt his head from side to side as if checking his profile before nodding and deeming it worthy. “I swear I pay well, and you’re pretty enough that you could make a lot of tips in a night. No one in school tells you puppies just how much you can make by getting naked on stage!” 

Jaemin sputtered and hissed, blushing so hard his cheeks should’ve caught fire. “What? No!” 

Oh dear lord, let some divine intervention smite him dead where he sat before Yuta made off with his soul because this man was clearly the devil. 

Yuta just cocked an eyebrow at him, a smile stretching lazily across his face, baring his elongated canines as he leaned closer. Jaemin resisted the urge to shudder as Yuta’s pheromones hit him in the face, dominant and alluring as he responded to the challenge, and, to any other alpha, they would’ve been disgusting, but Jaemin wasn’t a normal alpha. Dominance made his wolf purr (case in point: Renjun). 

His fingers stroked Jaemin’s cheekbone absently, a sultry look sneaking into his eyes as he started speaking again.  

“Jeno says you have abs for days under that button-up, pup. And Donghyuckie says he could wash clothes on them. Imagine how wild the omegas would go if they saw them onstage. How they would scream for you.” 

Jaemin was low-key panicking. Never had he ever thought he’d wish for anyone, even Donghyuck, to save him from a smoking hot alpha who was right in his face insinuating that he was sexy enough to strip for a living. 

Practically-mated life must have changed him. 

The question was, what the hell was Yuta up to? Obviously, he wasn’t trying to seduce Jaemin, or at least not consciously, Yuta could seduce people in his sleep, but surely there was an ulterior motive behind this encounter? 

“Uh—see, Yuta, that thing is—“ 

He was spared from having to answer by Renjun and Jeno’s arrival, the former dressed in a fluffy hoodie at least two sizes too big, hanging down over his skinny jeans, while the latter was, surprise-surprise, not wearing his shirt and still clad in the tight leather pants he wore for closing. Jeno’s jacket was thrown over his shoulder though, but there was nothing covering the newly made hickeys across his chest. 

Interesting. 

His boyfriends really had the audacity to make out in the dressing room and not invite him. 

Rude. 

“Yuta-Hyung?” Jeno’s voice was rough from yelling all night, and the sound of it grated across Jaemin’s nerves in the best of ways, making him totally forget what he was even thinking about because damn the beta was hot . Forget Yuta, Lee Jeno was literally a god. “What are you doing here?” 

“Trying to recruit cute little Jaeminie here as a dancer.” 

“He wants me to be a stripper too.” 

Both alphas glanced at each other for a second before Yuta snickered and Jaemin blushed. He peeked at his boyfriends through his fingers and wanted to die when he saw the look on Jeno’s face. Where the younger beta looked excited, however, Renjun looked awful jealous, seemingly putting together the dots between Jaemin’s defensive posture and the pheromones in the air, his eyes narrowing minutely. 

Oh, this was gonna be good. 

“Oh my god, Jaemin,” Jeno squealed, interrupting the building tension in the room with his usual bubbly naïveté, “you should do it! It’s so much fun, and the crowd hypes you up with the greatest high you’ve ever felt! Plus all the tips. ” Jeno looked positively dreamy, smiling his innocent smile while looking like an entire meal. 

Jaemin just wanted to eat him up— wait whaaaattttt….

“As fascinating as it is to discuss Jaemin being naked in front of hundreds of people, I’m tired and want to go home,” Renjun drolled, feigning boredom as he tapped his foot impatiently. Jaemin saw right through him. “Can we be on our way now and explore that fantasy later?” 

Jaemin nodded furiously as Yuta smirked at him one last time before pulling him to his feet and ruffling his hair. 

“Think about it, okay? And don’t forget to use protection, kids! Pregnancy isn’ the only thing that can be transmitted!” He called over his shoulder as he hopped up onto his pedestal. 

Gag. 

Him. 

Please. 

None of them could even get pregnant anyway! Also, they were exclusive! They had been for years! Which technically didn't excuse the need for protection.

Whatever. Not important right now. 

Jaemin buried his head in Jeno’s (warm, sweaty, bony) shoulder to whine and hide his burning cheeks for approximately two seconds before Renjun was tugging him by the ear to the door, grip unrelenting. 

Now, who’s jealous? Jaemin mused happily but put on a show for Renjun anyway. 

He whined and yelped the whole way to the car, but when Renjun tossed him in the backseat, shoving Jeno in after him a second later, he ceased his faux complaining, drinking in the sight of dishevelled beta hovering over him, the ravenous hunger that had been building all night starting to bubble over. 

“Hi, pretty baby,”  Jaemin murmured, running a finger down the middle of Jeno’s chest, right in between his pecs, before gripping his shoulders and flipping them over as Renjun started the engine. “You looked really pretty tonight.” He leaned down to capture Jeno’s lips in a leisurely kiss, savouring the feel of their lips sliding against each other’s as he braced his knees on either side of Jeno’s hips. “I loved seeing you dance for everyone, loved knowing you would be all ours come tonight.” Okay, so maybe Jaemin told a tiny fib, but he wasn’t going to admit he had been jealous. Not right now. 

“Seatbelts, kids,” Renjun droned, eyeing them with amusement from the rearview mirror. 

“Fuck you,” Jaemin replied, sticking his tongue out at his boyfriend but hauling himself and Jeno upright enough to pull the lower belt over Jeno’s legs and the diagonal one across his own back. 

“Better?”

“It’s your life.” 

Jaemin rolled his eyes before diving back in, tucking Jeno’s bottom lip between both of his own. 

Jeno whined as Jaemin disconnected their lips shortly thereafter to kiss down his jawline and to his earlobe, tugging at it lightly with his teeth and smiling against the flesh when Jeno groaned and shifted under him. 

While he loved letting Renjun take him apart, Jaemin also loved taking Jeno apart, watching him fall pliant in his arms, trusting and soft as he let Jaemin do whatever he wanted in the name of making them both feel good. It was the most intoxicating feeling to have someone’s full trust placed in your hands, and Jaemin relished in it as Jeno’s hands tugged at his hair in a silent request to revisit his lips. 

Jaemin obliged him, nipping at Jeno’s lips lightly before slipping his tongue between them and gently coaxing out the most delicious sounds. Jeno tasted like the caramel that permeated his scent daily, and the sugary syrup of it made Jaemin hungry for more. 

His hands wandered Jeno’s torso relentlessly as they kissed, pressing lightly on the bruises Renjun had left and dipping into the carved plane of his abs as the kiss deepened, became more carnal and instinct driven. 

They were home before Jaemin even realized it, and by the time Renjun had parked the car, both boys in the backseat were shirtless and needy, whining for their beta to come here. 

Renjun settled into the kisses as easy as breathing, pausing to unbuckle them and kiss Jaemin sweetly before setting about debauching Jeno as Jaemin watched, petting his hair momentarily before unbuttoning Renjun’s shirt. 

His hands roamed up Renjun’s toned stomach absently as the two betas kissed, playing with Renjun’s navel for a second, admiring the way his hands wrapped around his slender waist perfectly. He squeezed a little, overcome by fascination, and nearly growled when Renjun choked on a heady moan. When he glanced over at him to smirk but instead saw Jeno staring at him with glassy, half-lidded eyes, Jaemin totally lost it, dragging his boyfriends out of the car before pinning Jeno to it, kissing the living daylights out of him. 

Soon enough, all three of them made their way upstairs, fetching up against the walls every so often to bite and lick and suck before they were tumbling into bed, clothes discarded at random across the flat. 

It was messy, hot, and fast, full of passion and lust, and when it was all said and done, Jaemin laid panting next to Jeno as Renjun padded into the bathroom for washcloths. 

Once they were clean, he rolled into Jeno’s broad chest, nestling into the space between his shoulder and his torso as Renjun’s fingers traced delicate circles across his shoulder blades and bare back, the beta leaning against the headboard and looking down at them with a tired by fond smile. 

“My pretty mates,” Renjun cooed, petting through Jeno’s hair as the beta started to drift off, making the cute little noises that were so distinctly Jeno as their scents mingled in the air. 

“You did so well today, Jen,” Jaemin mumbled, words slurring a little as exhaustion weighed on his tongue. “You danced so, so well.” 

Jeno’s tiny, featherlight kiss barely registered on the crown of Jaemin’s head before the beta was conked out, lost to the world. 

Jaemin and Renjun swapped equally fond looks as a comfortable silence stretched across the bedroom, filled only with their hushed breaths. It was nice, after so much passion, tension, and time, to have worked it all out and get to relax in each other’s arms. 

With Renjun’s expert fingers playing with his hair and the steady rhythm of Jeno’s heartbeat under his ear, chest rising and falling with each deep breath he took, sleep began to overtake Jaemin, caressing at his eyelids with pillowing touches, pulling their gentle cover over his eyes. 

“Love you both.” He felt Renjun settle in behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist and hooking a leg over his own before Jaemin gave in and sunk into the warmth of the darkness. 

Somewhere above the sleeping wolves, oranges, caramel, and vanilla blended into one smooth, signature aroma, woven through the air, the bed, and the boys lying in it as they slipped into the realm of dreams, each seeing the others painted across the canvas of their minds. 

Chapter Text

Sunlight streamed through the open blinds lining the windows of the purple room, lighting up the area enough to forgo any need for electric lights so long as it was daylight out. Neon green curtains hung from rods strung across the top of the glass panels, sheer and glittery, shimmering effervescently as their owner dozed soundlessly. If the popping and contrasting colors weren’t distracting enough, a brilliant orange square was painted directly above the bedroom's door frame for no apparent reason at all, and random patches of murals were painted in nearly all spots unoccupied by furniture. 

It could be quite disconcerting at first glance. 

Continuing the madness, the middle of the room was a shower curtain, drawn to one side to reveal a glimpse of the other resident’s belongings that were otherwise protected from view upon entering the room. Fairy lights were strung around the perimeter of the ceiling, and the wire trailed down a corner in the open side of the bedroom, held up by highly noticeable swaths of duct tape. If the decorators had bothered to move one of the many cabinets and shelves over just the slightest bit, it would’ve been hidden behind the monstrous wooden furniture surrounding most of the room’s open wall-space. 

But, outside of questionable home decor skills, the most interesting thing in the room was the bed, occupied by two boys, one asleep and one awake, and the events that were unfolding upon it. 

“Wake up,” Jeno whined, shaking Jaemin’s shoulder vehemently and digging his fingers in a little. “I’m hungry!” 

“I’m tired, Jen, go away.” Jaemin reached behind him and patted his shoulder weakly before burying his head under the pillow. 

Jeno stayed quiet for a while, settling for draping himself over his younger boyfriend insistently, but Jaemin made no move to acknowledge him. 

His covers were warm and fluffy, nothing like the fan-chilled air beyond the sweet embrace of his bed. A shirtless, smoking hot Lee Jeno begging for food was not going to derail his attempts at getting twelve hours of sleep for once in his life. 

“Renjun is threatening to throttle Donghyuck,” Jeno tried, pressing kisses to the spot behind Jaemin’s ear distractingly. They were warm and sweet, but the cozy comfort of his pillow was much more seductive so Jaemin stayed where he was. 

“Mm.” The hum vibrated in his throat, and it made Jeno blink cutely as he processed the weird feeling before continuing on his quest. 

“Donghyuck is trying to deepthroat a carrot.” Jeno sucked the edge of his earlobe between his lips and nipped it, whining childishly when Jaemin pushed him off. 

“That doesn’t surprise me.” Jaemin tugged his covers up to his ears, grumbling when they caught on the edge of his left earring and pulled uncomfortably. “Is he doing well?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know. Humph.” Jeno shoved at his shoulder slightly, pout evident in his words. His top lip was caught between his teeth as he worried at it, glancing balefully down at his sleeping boyfriend. 

Jaemin couldn’t be bothered as he snuggled down deeper into his pillow, whining at how flat it was. Much as he loved Jeno, he craved good, peaceful sleep, and his boyfriend was just interrupting it. 

“Mark died.” Jeno’s fingers twisted into Jaemin’s hair, tugging slightly, his intentions quite clear. His stomach growled audibly in the background, and Jeno poked at Jaemin’s head experimentally as the grumbling got louder. 

“May he Rest In Peace.” Jaemin was so not falling for it. He cooked everyday for his ungrateful boyfriends, they could feed themselves for once. 

“Chenle’s bleaching his hair again.” 

“Damn.” Shut uppppppp! 

“Jisung is flirting awkwardly with some chick.” So now, Jeno had moved on to jealousy. That’s cute , Jaemin thought, kicking his legs around a little to get more comfortable, but it’s not gonna work, Jen. He nestled further into his blankets, stretching for a second before curling into a ball. 

“We’re all in an open relationship,” he hummed, blinking languidly at Jeno for a second before peacefully shutting his eyes. 

“I hate you, Na Jaemin.” 

“That’s nice.” Jeno bounced a few times on Jaemin’s back, pressing insistently at his shoulder blades and whining louder.

“Jeno!”  Jaemin groaned in annoyance and aimed a half-hearted slap in the general direction of Jeno’s thigh, wanting the weight off of him. His boyfriend was literally all muscle and that made him heavy as fuck on Jaemin’s vertebrae.

He needed his sleep, dammit! Jeno and Renjun had taken him through heaven and hell both the day before, and he needed time to recover before they tortured him again. Who knew quarantine with your boyfriends could be so excruciatingly lovely? 

The choked off cry of pain, however, suggested that whatever Jaemin hit was probably not Jeno’s thigh. Jaemin must’ve aimed too far towards the middle of his back. 

Oh well. 

Jeno would be fine. Renjun and Donghyuck had put him through worse. 

“Nana, that hurt!” Jeno whimpered, cuffing the back of his boyfriend’s head, sounding teary and distressed. Jaemin’s instincts twitched at him to turn around and check on him, but his body didn’t feel like cooperating. 

“I’m sorry, baby. Your balls will recover, I promise.” He reached behind him to pat at Jeno’s thigh soothingly. 

“I hate you so much.” 

“That’s okay.” The pillow jumbled his voice up quite a bit, and Jaemin’s cheek was definitely squished, but Jeno wasn’t making it easy for him to move either. 

Not that he wanted to! Jaemin had to stay strong and get more sleep. No falling for Jeno’s cuteness! 

“Do you love me?” Jeno tugged on his hair a little more until Jaemin removed his face from the material again and shot him a baleful look. 

“Not right now, I don’t,” he retorted grumpily and rubbed furiously at his eyes. Moisture had pooled in them as he’d slept, and it was now deciding to attack him, running grossly down his cheek from the corner of his eyes. 

“You suck, Na Jaemin.” And with that, Jeno stormed out of the room, radiating that fluffy kind of anger only he could pull off. It was like upsetting a chipmunk with too many acorns in their cheeks: cute, puffy, and not the least bit intimidating. 

Jaemin would make him fried chicken later, he decided, flopping back into the pillows with a heavy sigh as he flicked a ball of sleep off his fingertip. Being stuck in quarantine made you really lazy, he thought, as he rearranged his pillows to form a better nest. None of the Dream frat members had classes yet, not even online, and they all had different ways of coping and dealing, all manifesting at different times of the day. 

Chenle played basketball with a carefully tied up tree branch just outside the kitchen window around noon, right after lunch, while Mark wrote lyrics up in the highest branches of said tree whenever he felt like it, usually when a storm was brewing (he claimed the air helped him think; Donghyuck claimed the humidity frizzed his hair enough that his brain cells actually worked). Jisung played video games all day long, and Renjun happily drew and caught up on art projects he’d missed out on due to his grueling double-major. Jaemin himself had cooked so many different meals and baked so many recipes, along with cleaning the entire dorm again, while Jeno...Jeno clung  to whoever was available like a limpet, refusing to let go, not even under pain of death (yes, Jaemin can confirm it did happen, he had to pry Renjun off of a rapidly-purpling Jeno). 

Jaemin took a few seconds to regret being reticent with the other boy, knowing that was the only way Jeno was siphoning off the stress, before fatigue set back in and whisked his mind back into dreamland.

“Na Jaemin, get your god-forsaken, lazy ass up this instant before I come up there and beat it!” Renjun screamed up the stairs, banging loudly on one of their kitchen pots with what sounded like a metal spoon. 

It made Jaemin smile. 

Very rarely was he on the receiving end of the daily wake up call. Usually, it was Jisung or Jeno, both of his boyfriends thoroughly enjoying their shut-eye whenever the chance arose. Nevertheless, the continuous racket was indescribably annoying, and Jaemin yelled back a random affirmative sound before rolling right off the edge of the mattress. 

Ah, what a way to start your day. 

Appropriately awoken, Jaemin hauled himself to his feet and tugged on a shirt, not bothering to throw on a pair of pants over his boxers. They were long, and it wasn’t like anyone else cared either. Well, maybe Renjun. But it’d be fine! 

The trip down their spiral staircase was short, but it was enough to wake him up. Now, he just needed some caffeine…

At the base of the staircase, there was an impressive amount of dominos spread out across the floor, curving and winding through what looked like most of the house. Shrugging and deciding not to question it, Jaemin just leaped nimbly over them, landing on the carpet in front of the kitchen to cushion the vibrations. The dominos wiggled, but they didn’t fall. 

Jaemin smiled happily, bowing to his invisible audience before pushing the door to the kitchen open and promptly shrieking when he saw what was going on. 

“What are you doing?” He gasped, rushing over to take the bag of flour from Donghyuck. “Renjun, how could you let them do this to my precious kitchen?” Jaemin wailed, taking in the sight with disbelief. 

This referred to the three flour-coated boys standing next to a broken and discombobulated mixing machine, acrid smoke emanating out of the oven, gooey stuff dripping off the ceiling, and the spilt liquids all over the counter and stove top, all of which Jaemin hoped weren’t oil. On top of the immediate mess, there were also a few broken plates lying innocently on the floor, kept company by what looked like half of Jaemin’s utensil drawer. 

Including his favorite apple corer. 

No one messed with Sir Slice ‘n Dice! 

“I wasn’t in here,” Renjun shrugged, looking mildly apologetic and still brandishing the pot from earlier as Jaemin scooped up his corer with his free hand and looked for dents. It looked okay, the plastic was just a little chipped. 

“Uh huh,” Jaemin muttered, plopping both the bag of flour and utensil on the countertop and dragging Mark over to the sink to rinse him off. “How did you get the pot, then?” 

“Oh, this? I found it in Jisung’s room.” Renjun flipped it over before Jaemin could inquire about why the youngest had a Teflon pot in his room, and he gagged when he saw the colony of molds growing on some totally unidentifiable food thing. 

“That is disgusting!” He shrieked, accidentally spraying Mark in the face with the sink hose and making the eldest yelp. “There might be a new species on there!” Jaemin took it from Renjun gingerly, pinching the handle between two fingers before dropping it in the sink for cleaning with a loud clang. 

“Maybe.” Renjun shrugged before shuffling out of the kitchen. “I’ll get towels,” he called, waving as he left. 

Jaemin groaned as he thought of all the cooking supplies being ruined by both his boyfriends and the water before shoving Mark away and pulling Donghyuck over instead. 

The usually sun-kissed boy was perfectly white, coated in Jaemin’s precious, organic flour from head to toe, including his eyelashes, flecks of the powder falling off every so often. The look in his eyes screamed doe-eyed innocence, an act that was clearly projected to make Jaemin take mercy on his chaotic ass. 

“Do I even want to know how you did this?” Jaemin grumbled, shooting all three of his boyfriends the stink eye as he instructed Hyuck to close his eyes to get the flour off. He took care to only press lightly with his fingertips as he swiped the flour off, the powder sticking to the water on his hands. 

“Well,” Donghyuck started, waiting until Jaemin had finished sponging off his face, “Jeno and Mark are total dunces in the kitchen, and I heard some suspicious screaming noises so I came in to check it out. Right about then, Mark blew up the mixing machine, and boom, Jeno and I were coated.” 

“Sounds legit,” Jaemin agreed, aiming the water hose at Jeno with a stony expression, who yelped and ducked behind Mark, getting more flour on the eldest in the process but ultimately saving his face from being shot. 

“Ugh, Jeno-yah!” Mark scolded, shoving the boy off with a frown. “Did you have to cover me again too?” Jeno just nodded, making his curly hair flop around cutely as he watched Jaemin with wide eyes. 

“Oh, come here, honey.” Jaemin slumped against the edge of his sink as Jeno made his way over. 

It was going to be a while. 

After some struggling and cursing, Jaemin managed to get all of his boyfriends cleaned off and out of his kitchen, wrapped in the towels that Renjun so sweetly delivered, before setting his sights on the rest of the mess, hands planted firmly on his hips. 

His mixing machine was, indeed, blown to pieces in a feat that only Mark Lee (or Park Jisung) could’ve pulled off without explosives, and right as he moved to collect the shards and pray that Yuta, the grounds manager, could fix it, a big glob of something decided to unstick itself from the roof and drop right onto Jaemin’s head, dripping glutinously into his eyes. On top of that, the oven let out a disturbing squelch as something clearly caught fire inside, and the smoke detector started blaring above the sink, far too late to have possibly saved their lives considering the amount of (probably hazardous) smoke making his eyes water. 

Swiping his finger through the mixture on his head did confirm that it was cake mix though. 

And mint-chocolate flavored. 

His favorite. 

Jaemin took ten seconds to appreciate the heavenly flavor before sticking his head under the sink faucet and starting to wash his hair with dish soap. 

Dear lord, what has my life become? 

By the time he had finished dealing with the unruly mess that was his beloved kitchen, Jaemin pushed open the door to find a floor covered in dominos. Plastic tiles of every color were spread out across the floor, winding and circling around every single piece of furniture in the living room. Before, they had been manageable and Jaemin could’ve jumped from object to object if need be, but now, no, now they covered the entire floor . 

Jaemin scrubbed a hand over his face in frustration before sighing and eyeing the floor with deliberation. He opened his mouth to shout something but closed it again. Screeching, a suspicious thud, and a few questionable noises came from upstairs, and Jaemin just sighed deeper. 

Stay calm, you can do this, Jaemin. You love all of these boys very much, and you don’t want to go to jail for mariticide. Even if they all deserve it. 

Take deep breaths. 

Ah, to hell with it. 

“Who covered the floor in dominos?!” Jaemin shrieked up the stairs, arms crossed. Oh, that was good. It didn’t sound too pissed at all! Very mature. 

“Chenji!” Jeno bellowed back, voice choking off abruptly at the end suspiciously. Jaemin decided that he ultimately didn’t want to know since Renjun and Donghyuck were also suspiciously missing, and he opted to go looking for his annoying younger boyfriends. 

“Lele! Jisung! Where are you two?” Jaemin called, weaving his way between the thousands of dominos. Yes, the evil, wicked side of him wanted to go and knock them over, but the good, loving, and responsible side of him said to let his boyfriends have their fun. 

It also happened to be the side keeping him from killing anyone. 

It must be the reasonable one. 

He found the two youngest in Jisung’s bedroom, bickering as usual and trying to set up a new row of dominoes that Jisung kept taking out. They were just as brightly colored as the rest, some of which with little trains and flowers painted on them. The style looked a little bit like Renjun’s, miniscule and small-scale but detailed as if it was painted onto the biggest frieze in the world. 

It was kind of endearing that he'd painted a set of dominoes for their youngest boyfriends.

Maybe Jaemin could go easier on them. 

“What do you think you two are doing?” Jaemin leaned against the doorway and watched as they ignored him, scrambling to knock out sections of the dominoes before Jisung’s falling train could take the whole line out. 

“Jisung, you idiot, how are we supposed to beat the record if you keep knocking them over! It’s going to take ages to do if we have to keep restarting and sacrificing sections!” 

“I’m sorry,” Jisung wailed, “but you’ve knocked over sections too!” 

“No I didn’t! If you and your poo-hands would just stay away from my stuff, maybe we wouldn’t have this problem!”

“I said I’m sorry!” 

Jaemin just watched in mild amusement as their bickering became more heated, the pair starting to toss dominos at each other. A stray one hit the tail winding into the bedroom from the living room, and started a chain, whizzing by while Chenle and Jisung didn’t notice. It reached Jaemin’s foot, and he decided to take pity on them, fireballs and hedgehogs going flying across the room as he kicked out the next section before it could fall prey to their antics. 

Instantly, all eyes were on him, Chenle’s accusing and Jisung’s wide. The former’s resulting squawk had Jaemin laughing as he took in the affronted looks on their faces. 

“What? I was just helping you out, unless your goal was to knock them all over? If that’s the case, I can do it for you now, if you want?” Jaemin held his foot up next to the remaining standing pieces, eyebrows raised. 

“What? No!” Chenle screeched. “What the hell, Jaemin-hyung?” Chenle let out an impressive war cry before hauling himself to his feet carefully and hitting Jaemin in the chest. Repetitively. “First, Jisung went and was a klutz, now, you go and sabotage me?! This means war!” 

Jaemin waited until Chenle had calmed down, rubbing his chest once the Chinese boy had finished annihilating it. It almost felt bruised! Once the fire had gone out of Chenle’s eyes, the second youngest slumping down a little as his rage cooled, Jaemin crooked an eyebrow at him lazily, and Chenle blushed, instantly retreating to hide behind Jisung, who shielded him as if on instinct. 

Typical. They all loved each other equally but there was a different type of love between the youngest pair that transcended everything (including logic) most of the time. 

“So,” Jaemin drawled, bending down to pick up a handful of the beautiful dominoes and dump them in the bucket nailed to the back wall, “what are we doing here, exactly?” He twirled a particularly detailed tile between his fingers, laughing when he saw the fluffy rabbit painted on it, one ear raised and one flopped against its head. Actually, upon closer inspection, said rabbit was looking down at a dinner plate with a giraffe driving a car and holding an umbrella sitting on it. 

Weird. 

But his Renjunnie was so talented and funny and cute, how on earth did he manage to paint something so intricate and—

“Trying to break the world record for the most dominoes knocked over in one train.” Jisung eyed him from the corner, holding Chenle’s hand and playing with his fingers. 

What even—

Who does that? 

“And what’s that?” 

“Eighty-nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-five.” 

“Hm.” Jaemin continued scooping up dominoes and depositing them in the bucket, listening to the clink of the plastic tiles, falling like rain as his mind wandered. They hadn’t had a good rainy day in a while. Perhaps if they did, Jaemin could call a movie night and they could all cuddle in the living room and eat snacks. 

That sounds good...and I can make tteokbokki...

“You’re not mad, are you, Nana?” Chenle tried, looking nervous. His cheeks looked very squishable from where they were puffed out in anticipation, and Jaemin’s fingers itched to squeeze them. Chenle was the cutest…

And that was probably why they were spoiled. 

Ah. 

So it was his fault then. He’d always thought it was Jeno’s. 

Whatever, his strategy worked just fine. 

“No.” The maknae line relaxed obviously, tension bleeding out of their bodies in relief. “But,” Jaemin continued, “you can’t cover the entire house in dominoes! What if there’s a fire and we need to escape? How are we supposed to do that if there’s stuff all over the floor? What if someone slips and falls? Mark is old, he might not survive a hard fall!” 

“But-” 

“Do you want to live in my house? Eat my food? Receive my love?” 

“Yes…” 

“Then no more dominoes around the whole house! It’s so stressful to clean, and I work hard enough to take care of all of you ungrateful brats!” 

“Aww, fine.” 

“Gees, tell us how you really feel, Jaemin-hyung.” 

Jaemin dumped his final handful of dominoes in the tub before kissing both his boyfriends on the cheek. They were very hard to stay mad at. 

He was probably “whipped”, as Donghyuck called it. 

“Love you,” he cooed, sending a little wave over his shoulder before going to find Renjun, his lovely, most favoritest boyfriend who certainly wouldn’t cause him any trouble or give him more gray hair. 

He made his way upstairs, pausing half-way up to determine if the metal was swaying enough to warrant turning around and waiting until his boyfriends were fully clothed again (because they surely weren’t right now). The metal wasn’t moving at all, however, so Jaemin figured it was okay to continue. 

Jaemin was on his way to his room when he passed by Mark and Donghyuck’s, noting the unmade beds and unfolded clothes on the floor. Sighing in exasperation, he ducked in to fold them, smiling when he saw the new picture on Mark’s end table. 

It wasn’t technically new, per say, just new to the bedroom. It featured all of them before quarantine, sipping on bubble teas in the backroom of one of the college showcase productions he and Renjun had been in. Jaemin had already maxed out his allotted caffeine and sugar intake for the day and was simply faking holding a cup. 

Ah, good memories. 

All of their t-shirts were ridiculously wrinkled and Jaemin let out a whine when he tried to smooth a few out to no effect, mentally promising to iron them next time he did laundry. As he was, he could see out the window between the armoire, and he took a second to appreciate the beautifully shaded clouds before startling when a foot dropped into his line of vision. 

It was a red converse attached to a leg clad in hideous watermelon socks, so Jaemin figured that Mark probably wasn’t a dangerous axe murderer planning to come through the window to kill them all in cold blood. 

Jaemin finished up by making their beds as well, patting down the Michael Jackson comforter on Donghyuck’s bed with a smile. Mark’s pillows looked a little flat so he fluffed them up too before continuing on his way. 

Chenle and Jeno’s room was empty, as expected, and Jaemin was pleased to see that at least two of his boyfriends had followed the house rules, their beds made and their clothes put away neatly in their drawers. 

There were no suspicious noises coming from his room anymore, and he could see why they were so loud before since the door was open wide, clothes strewn across the floor. 

“Rabbits,” Jaemin teased, knocking on the doorway before entering his and Renjun’s room. 

“You’re just jealous you didn’t get to join.” Donghyuck’s lazy smirk from his bed was quite hot, if Jaemin had to say so himself, and the mussed state of his hair spoke volumes about what had transpired previously. 

“I’m actually not, but thank you,” Jaemin simpered sweetly, plopping down on the edge of the bed and moving Jeno’s feet out of the way. The brunette was mostly face-down under the comforter, cheek squished like Jaemin’s had been earlier in the day, the tops of his broad shoulders peeking out from the linens, and Jaemin took a minute to admire the sculpted angles of his profile. 

“Is he asleep?” Jaemin inquired, scooting up to brush the hair out of Jeno’s face, petting it absently. The strands were silky to the touch and just the slightest bit curly, twining around his fingers lightly. 

“Doesn’t he always fall asleep?” Donghyuck countered, raising a judgemental eyebrow at Jaemin pointedly. 

Jaemin just hummed. “Do you think I still have to make him fried chicken, or did you guys already work the frustration out of his system?” 

“Uh, I think Renjunnie worked it out of his system for the next week, he was practically insatiable today! Even I’m sore.” Donghyuck rolled over enough to be within Jaemin’s reach and butted his knee with his head demandingly. Jaemin chuckled but obeyed, twisting his fingers into his hair as well. 

“You know, sometimes I think I have cats and not boyfriends,” he mused aloud, stroking over the curve of Donghyuck’s ear absently and smiling when he leaned into the touch.

“What can I say, you give good pets.” Donghyuck mimicked a purr before teasingly licking Jaemin’s hand, finishing it off with a sleazy wink. Ew. Jaemin yanked it away in disdain, making a show of wiping it off on the bedspread. 

“That’s disgusting.” 

Jaemin looked up to see Renjun standing in the bathroom doorway, his platinum blond hair sticking up every which direction, the piercing standing out on his cheek, twinkling in the light. There were no colorful tips on it today which meant that he either didn’t care or hadn’t gotten around to it, and his slender frame was drowning in one of Jaemin’s t-shirts, exposing the milky curve of his collarbone and all of the hickies that lined it. 

“Hi again, Injoonie, nice to see you too,” Donghyuck replied cheekily, blowing a kiss at him. 

Renjun rolled his eyes before coming over and settling next to Jaemin, leaning his head on his shoulder and looking down at Jeno. 

“Does he look okay?”  Renjun asked, genuine concern in his voice. It was enough to make Jaemin decide he didn’t want to know the details of what they had done. 

Before anyone could respond, however, Jeno was whining, rolling over and blinking his eyes open sleepily. 

“I can hear you all, you know.” His beautiful eyes disappeared under the sheer force of his adorable smile, curving into the moon eyes that Jaemin loved so much. 

“I’d be worried if you couldn’t,” Renjun retorted, but the smile he sent Jeno was nothing short of devoted. 

If they were going to talk whipped, everyone was nothing short of whipped for Lee Jeno.

Jaemin smiled as he flopped back onto Jeno’s chest, letting out a puff of air when Donghyuck did the same to him before looking at Renjun from where he was, upside down and smirking. 

“Who was telling me to get up this morning?” He teased, reaching for Renjun’s hips as the older came closer. 

“You can’t get away with everything just because you’re pretty. That would be unfair to the rest of us, and then we’d have to call for an intervention because you’d be a spoiled brat beyond hope. Or at least, much worse than you are now. We’d have to punish you more often.” Renjun’s words were nothing short of hot to Jaemin’s ears, and the smirk he delivered right after made him burst into flames. 

So, of course, Chenle and Jisung had to burst in and interrupt the moment. 

Jaemin’s groan made the rest of his traitorous boyfriends explode into giggles as the two youngest plopped onto the bed as well which was much too small for six people, Jaemin wanted to point out, and the heat fizzled out of his body about as fast as it had heated up. 

Not to say that he didn’t love Chenle and Jisung as well, just that they were new to the overall relationship and Jaemin was still kind of bothered by the dominoes. 

Also...Mark. 

Where was Mark? 

Oh right, dangling from the tree out front. 

“Renjun-hyung!” Chenle chirped, jumping on Renjun’s back and forcing him to carry him. The slender boy made a face that looked distinctly like “craving death” before stumbling backwards in order to hold up his boyfriend. 

“What do you want, you brat?”  

“I’m giving you my undying love and affection first, and this is what you repay me with?” Chenle shrieked, pummeling Renjun’s shoulders with his fists as the older started to crumble under his weight. “So ungrateful, there are people who would kill for a hug from me!”

“Are there? That’s fascinating, I assure you I am not one of them. Now get off before I throw your ass across the room.” 

Despite his words, however, Renjun was not holding Chenle up nearly well enough to throw him, and Jaemin threw out his hands to catch Renjun right as his legs buckled, his boyfriend falling back onto him and Hyuck with a huff, Chenle plopping harmlessly on the edge of the bed before promptly tumbling off. 

We’re a mess today. 

Jisung, who had simply been minding his own business and poking Donghyuck’s toes, rushed to catch him, and he just barely managed, sliding on his knees to catch his best friend, bridal style, triggering a tiny round of applause around the bedroom. Jisung’s cheeks flamed under the attention, and it just made the hyung-line boyfriends laugh harder, Jaemin cooing at the baby. 

Now, this was what Jaemin loved most about quarantine. 

Once suitably cuddled, Jaemin slipped out of the pile and into the kitchen to make lunch. God knew none of his boyfriends could be trusted with it. 

He was in the process of making his tteokbokki when one dripping wet Mark Lee stumbled into the kitchen, his red bandana stuck over his eyes, screaming bloody murder and whipping their electric flyswatter around like he was trying to kill someone, not to mention that if he hit himself by accident, he was going to get the electrocution of a lifetime. 

Honestly, what had his kitchen done to deserve all of the insanity that had been going on in it as of late?

“Get away from me, you heathens!!” Mark yelled, turning every which direction and holding his makeshift weapon out in front of him with two hands. “I’m not afraid of you!” 

M-mosquitos…?

Jaemin siddled around him carefully, managing to escape a near brush with electrocution twice, before wrapping his arms around Mark and trapping them, groaning at the sensation of water seeping into his previously dry clothes for the second time that day. He hated the feeling of soggy clothes, even more so when they were socks or underwear because at that point, it was just nasty. 

“What are you doing?” He asked conversationally as they thrashed back and forth. 

“I’ve been taken by the enemy!” Mark wailed, ignoring his question and grasping at Jaemin’s shoulders futilely. “Tell my boyfriends I love them, and I’m sorry I stole Jaemin’s favorite socks three years ago! I didn’t think Johnny’s puppy would throw up on them! And that Ten would use them as a rag! And that moths would build nests in them and chew holes through the logo! Actually, I didn’t think at all! I’m sorry! Please forgive my sins!” 

Jaemin paused, letting go of Mark, who slumped to the floor dramatically, clutching at his blindfold yet unable to remove it. 

Say what now? His favorite socks? 

How dare he! 

“It’s me, dumbass,” Jaemin told him, yanking the bandana off Mark’s eyes with a scowl. “I can’t believe you stole my Slytherin socks. I don’t like you.” He pulled the flyswatter out of his boyfriend’s hand, hung it back up on the wall, and went back to his tteokbokki, pulling out Jisung’s before dipping the rest in the spicy sauce. 

Serves him right, Jaemin grumbled, eyeing Mark’s reflection in the window as Mark stared at him with wide, pleading eyes, water dripping off his frizzy curls and falling onto his face. He looked so shocked and pitiful that it did funny things to Jaemin’s heartstrings. 

Why did he have to be so soft, dammit? 

“Oh, save it, I’m not actually mad at you, Mark.” Jaemin threw him a look over his shoulder before going back to his tteokbokki and pouring the rice cakes into a bowl, glancing up at the window when a flash of lightning lit up the blue walls. Oh, the storm I wanted came. 

That explained why Mark looked like a drowned rat. He must have been songwriting, then, but where he had his notebook stuffed was beyond Jaemin at the moment. 

“You’re not?” 

“Should I be?” Jaemin remarked calmly but flinching a little at the thought of his socks being nested in by bugs. He could just imagine their thousands of tiny little legs crawling all over his— “I mean, I am a little piqued that you stole them, lost them, and utterly destroyed them, but they’re just socks, Mark. It’s not going to end the world.” 

“I’m still sorry though, Jaeminie! I had no idea they were yours.” Mark hauled himself up with the help of the refrigerator’s door handle before wrapping himself around Jaemin as he turned to set the tteokbokki out. 

Jaemin found it a lot harder to move with a whole-ass Mark attached to him, but he didn’t mind too much. He wasn’t warm by any means due to the rain, but he wasn’t cold either. However, his breath did smell strange, and Jaemin paused setting the table for a second to glance quizzically over the edge of his shoulder at Mark’s face. 

His cheeks were kind of flushed, and his eyes were sparkling far more than they should be. There was a gentle glaze over them that was peculiar but not out of the usual. 

Mark started nosing up the side of his neck as he thought, sucking little kisses along the length of it, lips pressing insistently behind Jaemin’s ear, and that was when he figured it out. 

Mark was drunk. 

Or at least tipsy. 

Great. 

Jaemin’s life really was a trip today. 

He was so glad he wasn’t prone to stress ulcers.

“Are you drunk, Mark?” Jaemin asked him, biting his lip when his boyfriend started sucking a bruise into the space above his collarbone. It felt pretty good, but Jaemin was trying to stay focused, dammit! He had a job to do! 

“What, no? How could I be drunk if I haven’t had any alcohol?” Jaemin had a very good idea of how he could be drunk without consciously drinking alcohol. He’d have to check Mark’s songwriting book to confirm that he was, indeed, drunk, but the perpetrator was probably the trick bottle Renjun and Donghyuck had prepared weeks ago to get Jeno drunk on his birthday, a jug of apple juice with champagne mixed in. 

A tiny pang of stress went through him at the thought of having to find the other bottles in the fridge with the alcohol in case Chenle or Jisung found it instead, but Jaemin stamped it down with a sigh. 

No, it would be fine. Worst case scenario, he could just taste all of them. 

He was trying to relax as Mark continued to mouth at his skin, hot and mildly sticky, but Mark’s teeth were starting to sting a little, more painful than pleasurable. Murmuring a quiet apology, Jaemin pushed him off, padding over to the bell on their wall to signal lunch was ready. 

(You know, the bell that Renjun refused to use every morning in favor of his pots. “It builds character,” he says. Jaemin says it puts dents in his cookware.)  

Just seconds later, Jaemin’s boyfriends tumbled down the stairs, Renjun sliding down the railing as befitting his extra ass while Jeno just skipped the stairs altogether since their top floor wasn’t really that high up anyway. And also because he was insane. That was important to acknowledge. Meanwhile, Donghyuck, Chenle, and Jisung were responsible and came down the staircase like normal, proper people, but Jaemin was pretty sure he saw a few feet stick out suspiciously far and a few shoves that looked more-than-accidental in the race to attack the tteokbokki. 

Mark seemed content to latch onto Donghyuck instead, who happily took the affection right until Renjun made a show of scooping up a heap of tteokbokki and dumping it in his bowl with a self-satisfied smirk. Then, the hug was over, Mark was on the floor, and Renjun and Donghyuck were trading insults across the pot while Chenle calmly dished bowls out with a spoon behind their back. 

Ah, Jaemin loved his family. 

Jisung sidled up to him while he was leaning against the counter, his tteokbokki already removed to avoid the chance of not getting any, flipping through Mark’s songbook that had fallen out of the hem of his pants. As entertaining as it was to watch the chaos that was unfolding in his kitchen, Mark’s drunken rambles were something else. The youngest smiled at him sweetly and wrapped his arms around Jaemin’s waist, hooking his hands on the flat of his stomach, under the song book which Jaemin set down instantly to fully enjoy the cuddles. 

“Thank you, Jaemin-Hyung,” he murmured, hooking his head over his shoulder. Jaemin paused for a second to appreciate the hug before bringing one of his hands up to hold Jisung’s around his waist and the other to pat his cheek, cradling his head against his own. It was still so strange that Jisung was taller than him now, his head just the slightest bit higher than Jaemin’s own. 

“What for?” 

“Making my tteokbokki without all the spice. I know it can be kind of annoying to make different versions of a dish, so I just wanted to say thank you because I know you don’t have to.” Jaemin could hear the little pout in Jisung’s words, and he cooed at the youngest, turning his head to press a kiss to his temple. 

“Aw, so cute, Jisungie!” He relished in the red tips of his boyfriend’s ears before squishing their heads together, harder. “It’s okay, Jisung-ah, I don’t mind doing it. It’s no trouble at all.” He patted his cheek again, stealing a kiss before gently untangling himself and bouncing off to join the others in the living room where a massive cuddle pile was starting. 

They ended up watching a Chinese drama (suggested by Renjun) about this rich heiress who had disguised herself as a normal student at a college while running away from her grandfather’s arranged marriage plans. She ended up meeting this famous idol who was known for being stony and hard to work with, but slowly, she started to melt through his defenses by being unapologetically herself (sassy, stubborn, and caring), and she got to know him better. It was definitely entertaining and cute, although Jaemin found a few of the effects to be a little cheesy and some of the bickering to be a little too exaggerated, but overall, he thought it was fun and light. 

It was a lazy kind of day since they’d been watching the drama since noon at least, but Jaemin was enjoying getting to cuddle with Chenle, originally unwilling but now entirely wrapped around Jaemin, as well. There were some benefits, at least, to having a higher-than-average body temperature because it meant everyone wanted to cuddle him for warmth. 

And for fun. According to Jeno, Jaemin gave good cuddles. 

Lucky for Jaemin, Chenle also gave good cuddles. The second youngest was wrapped around him, full body, his leg slung over Jaemin’s hips, his head on his chest, right above his heart, sound asleep. Little puffs of breath sent air up through his sunset bangs and into Jaemin’s face, although nothing about it was unpleasant. The way Chenle breathed when he slept always fascinated Jaemin because Chenle breathed as if he was always underwater, holding his breath until the moment he couldn’t, forced to resurface and let it all out in a huff before diving back down and doing it all over again. 

It was comfortable and sweet, and Jaemin was thoroughly enjoying stroking down Chenle’s back with lazy fingers, feeling their hearts beat in sync. 

Unfortunately for both of them, someone needed to make food so the rest of them could eat. 

Food was kind of important. 

Such a tragedy. 

It seemed like the work of a parent was never over. 

But Jaemin digressed. 

He loved his boyfriends, and nothing was too much for them. Except maybe committing a murder. That was a big no-no. But leaving the cuddle pile so everyone else could eat? Jaemin could do that. 

In fact, he was about to do just that when Jeno’s voice cut through the sleepy silence that had taken over the boys, “don’t you dare move, Nana.” 

Frankly, Jaemin had thought he was asleep too. Renjun’s phone was glowing off somewhere to his right, but Jaemin had been under the assumption that he was the only other one awake. 

“Why?”

“I’ll make dinner, Jaem, just stay where you are. I know Chenle’s asleep on top of you, and you work too hard anyway.” Jeno’s form rose up on the edges of his vision, peeking up at the bottom of his eyes so low that he had to stare down his nose to see him. He watched as Jeno carefully made his way across the room, stepping in between the limbs sprawled out all across the floor before dropping down next to Jaemin and smiling his sweet smile, visible even in the rapidly darkening room. 

“Let me take care of you, Jaemin-ah.” Jeno’s fingertips traced over the curve of his cheek sweetly, pausing to boop his nose and brush his fringe out of his eyes. 

“But—isn’t it my job to take care of all of you?” 

“You’re not a parent, Nana,” Jeno whispered, thumb pausing its journey across his cheekbone as he tilted his head to study Jaemin’s features closer. “You’re our friend and our boyfriend, but you are most definitely not our parent. We might joke about it, but it’s not how we truly feel, okay? 

“You don’t have to carry all of this weight on your shoulders or in your head. You’re not the only one stuck in the house, Jaemin. I know it’s stressful and it sucks, and I know you just want to make sure none of us are depressed or struggling, but I know that I, for one, do not want you to feel down or like you’re drowning because you’re trying so hard for us not to. We’re all still here for you, and I promise we are all capable of helping you. You don’t have to live like you’re dying, baby.” There was a gentleness in his eyes that could only be found in Jeno, sugary sweet and carelessly innocent, yet unbreakably strong. 

For some reason, his gaze heated up Jaemin’s skin more than Renjun’s teasing from earlier. He felt seen and strangely vulnerable, like Jeno was stripping him down internally, and it was an experience he hadn’t had in a while. 

He closed his eyes as the look on Jeno’s face turned knowing, not wanting to look his boyfriend in the eyes. 

“I didn’t mean to, Jen,” Jaemin whispered, trying to calm his breathing for Chenle before realizing he was doing exactly what Jeno was warning him about. There was a difference between being sweet and being obsessive. 

“I know you didn’t, baby,” Jeno murmured, sliding down to sit next to him. “I just wanted to warn you that you were so you’d be aware. Now, you can avoid a burn-out.” Jeno’s long fingers started combing through his hair, carefully untangling the strands as he sought to comfort Jaemin in one of the best ways. 

“I didn’t mean to get too caught up in it.” Jaemin squeezed his eyes shut tighter as the tingling feeling that accompanied tears started to accumulate in his tear ducts. “I just wanted to make sure everyone was happy, and I guess I started obsessing without even realizing it.” 

“Don’t worry about it, Nana. Now that you know you’re doing it, just make sure not to work too hard. Just focus on what you want to do. You don’t have to take on the whole world.” He smiled softly. 

And that had been exactly what Jaemin was trying to do. He wanted to love his boyfriends entirely while protecting them from the pain that all of the uncertain times had brought, and, as far as he could tell, they weren’t actually feeling it because he was the only one suffocating. 

Hm. 

Maybe Lee Jeno was a genius, indeed. He knew Jaemin better than he knew himself. 

“Okay.” Jaemin opened his eyes and found Jeno’s just centimeters away. “I’ll pay more attention.” 

“I just wanted you to know,” Jeno repeated, smiling fondly at him. “Part of it is my fault for asking you to make me chicken this morning.” The smile that lit up his face in teasing was beautiful, but it made Jaemin panic. 

“What? No! I would have made you chicken if you’d really wanted it bad enough, that was my—”

“—you’re doing it again, baby.” 

“Yeah…”

“I know it’s not easy, but I also know you’re trying. I love you, Jaemin.” 

“I love you too, Jen.” Jeno placed a peck on his lips before darting off to make dinner. 

Jaemin settled back in with Chenle, holding his boyfriend closer as the gears started spinning in his head. 

Tomorrow, he decided, pressing a kiss to the crown of Chenle’s head, tomorrow, I’ll pay attention. I’ll make sure to ask for help and to not worry too much. I’ll let them be without distancing myself. 

I can do this. 

“Thank you, hyungie,” Chenle murmured, voice raspy, cutting through Jaemin’s thoughts as he leaned up to press a kiss to his chin, “for loving us.” While Jaemin stared at him in a shock, a sleepy smile pulled across Chenle’s lips. 

“Yeah, thank you.” 

“I love you, Jaemin.” 

“Yeah.”

“Love you, nerd.”

The chorus from around the room brought tears to his eyes, and it didn’t go unnoticed because suddenly, five bodies were pressed up against him instead of just one, clinging to him and kissing at every part of him that they could reach. Jaemin found himself with kisses being pressed against even his closed eyelids as his tears were absorbed back into his eyes, embarrassed laughter starting to take over. 

Jaemin felt very dumb all of a sudden, and in a good way, at that. 

They weren’t going to throw him away just for caring about them. That would be absurd! They loved him and nothing that they knew getting into the relationship was going to change that. Being cooped up did strange things to your mind, but something that drastic would take a major catalyst to set it off. 

So, when Jeno came back into the room, balancing a pot of food between his elbows, Jaemin smiled at him from under the pile, and Jeno sent one back with a tiny nod. 

Good job, Nana. 

Jaemin smiled. 

What a beautiful day it had been, indeed. 

Chapter Text

The wooden floor of the rink is beaten up beyond belief, worn down from years of skate wheels grating against the finish, chipped in different places from too many nasty falls and collisions with training skate-walkers. There is loud music playing, a variety of songs produced  for dancers but made for skating, songs that get your blood pumping in the most delicious way, fill your body with the urge to move. 

There is a special fascination that Jaemin has with the roller rink. He loves the chaotic charm of it, the brilliant, neon colors that decorate the walls all around. He loves the burnt bricks that show under the sleek black carpets plastered to the walls, the eclectic lights that pan across the whole space, the smell of cheap fast-food, the numerous arcade games lining the far wall to entice those too naive to recognize them for the money trap that they are. 

Jaemin smiles as he watches the kids whirl across the floor around him as he dutifully practices his pirouettes in the centre space, cut out for either extreme novices or extreme skaters, neither of which applies to Jaemin. 

So, why is he in the Pit, pirouetting at precarious speeds on wheels that are far too thin to be substantial if he falls wrong? 

He's got a crush. 

On the referee, to be exact. Huang Renjun, the best skater on this side of Seoul, and he knows it too. Renjun’s neon-threaded rollerblades are the second hottest thing Jaemin has ever seen because Renjun’s face (or at least his smirk and anti-eyebrow piercing) takes the cake. There’s something angelic about the way he looks, gorgeous and pretty with fine bones and a delicate facial structure covered in milky skin that draws Jaemin in time and time again. There’s a hidden spark in his eyes that Jaemin can see when he skates, and it hooked him the very first time he saw it. 

A special grace lingers in Renjun’s limbs when he moves, whether it be a leisurely spin around the floor to make sure the kids are okay, or whether it’s during a race where the only reward is his pride. Every movement is fluid, smoothly crisp in a way that shouldn’t be possible. The effortless way he crosses over and twirls across the rink as if its a dance fixates Jaemin in place when he watches, oftentimes ending up with Jaemin’s ass on the floor and his spine screaming. 

Jaemin leaves the Pit and settles into one of the benches along the wall to re-lace his skates, slinging his bag off his shoulder as his eyes are drawn back to Renjun again, taking a break at the DJ’s booth and gulping water like it's a lifeline. He’s fascinated by the bob of the other boy’s Adam’s apple as he swallows before he snaps out of it to avoid getting arrested for harassment or something similar. It wouldn’t be the first time Jeno’s had to pick him up from solitary detainment for being publicly indecent. 

Speak of the devil and he shall appear was the saying, and Jaemin’s phone starts ringing as if on cue, Jeno’s adorable contact picture filling the screen. He supposes his first observation was unfair because if there’s anyone who is an angel on this earth, it’s Jeno. 

They’ve been best friends since high school and their friendship hasn’t diminished at all since they’ve gone to college. Sure, they both have wildly different majors that keep their schedules hectic and meetings infrequent, and they no longer live together, Jeno living in an apartment with his boyfriend while Jaemin still lives in the dorms, but it hasn’t done much to separate them. They’ve always been inseparable and growing up hasn’t changed a thing. 

Jeno will always be dependable and loyal, sweet and kind, and he’ll always be there for Jaemin when he does Dumb Shit, ready to bail him out of any problem. Jaemin loves him, he really does, but he also knows that the second he picks up, Jeno is going to know where he is and lowkey judge him for being obsessed with Huang Renjun. 

He slides the answer button seconds before the call terminates and answers with a cheerful, “Sup, Jeno dearest!” 

Immediately, Jeno’s gags fill his ears through his earbuds, loud and highly unnecessary. Jaemin pushes his lips out in a pout as his best friend wails,“oh my god, tell me you’re not about to do something stupid, Jaemin, you only call me that when you want something. I can’t come pick you up again, Hyuck and I have a date today and he’ll skin me alive and use my bones to decorate the living room if I’m late.” 

Jaemin is intrigued by the idea of bone decor before realizing that it’s irrelevant to the situation and that Jeno’s lack of faith in him is abundantly more immediate. “Do you always assume I can’t control myself?” He whines, pouring sugary sweet, over-the-top aegyo into the words to make Jeno melt. He smirks when he hears the sputtering noises and lazily twirls the end of an earbud between his fingers as Jeno stumbles through some sort of tirade to justify exactly why he believes Jaemin is an unpredictable bastard. 

Crossing back onto the floor is a little bit more challenging with a highly breakable phone in his hand, but he manages okay. The little kids still whirl around him, and although he’s not worried about them hurting him, per se, he’s worried about what will happen if one of them crashes into him. 

Damn crushes, taking over his mind. 

“Why did you even call me anyway?” Jaemin interrupts him, skating lazily in circles as he crosses over to avoid hitting the other children in the Pit. His right brake catches on his left for a second and he wobbles precariously before getting it back under control, arms out for balance. Honestly, his skates aren’t very fancy, but he loves them nonetheless, the sleek black plastic a little battered up from one too many falls. 

“Would you believe me if I said it was by accident?”

“Well,” Jaemin teases, “because it’s you, yes.” 

“Rude!” Jeno cries, and Jaemin can hear him whining to Chocolate or Vanilla about it, can hear the meows of the poor disturbed cat being harassed by Jeno’s relentless pets. 

“Anyway…?” Jaemin prompts, rolling his eyes fondly as his best friend gets sidetracked by sweetalking his pet. With Jeno, animals always come before people, and Jaemin has learned to accept the fact. 

“Oh! I have a friend I want you to meet! I think he’s your type and he’s in my major, but he’s really nice!” Jeno sounds hopeful through the phone, almost as if he’s shouting get over your pointless infatuation! through a bullhorn. Jaemin loves Jeno to bits, he really does, but he’s not good at picking up on Jaemin’s cues. Jeno hasn’t realized yet that Jaemin isn’t giving up until he’s shot down. Renjun’s going to have to break his heart or dash his hopes before Jaemin will go on a blind date with one of Jeno’s fellow architecture majors. 

“Again?” He says instead, not wanting to disappoint his best friend and hear the earth-rending pout in Jeno’s voice. “You and Hyuck sent me out with that girl from biochemistry just last week!” 

“But she was nice! She volunteered at the animal shelter like you did, and you two had so many common talking points!” He can feel Jeno’s whine in his very soul. 

“She asked me how long my dick was. Like, right after they brought out the breadsticks.” Jaemin deadpans. It was true. She had seemed demure and shy, sitting with her hands clasped nearly in her lap and knowing the answer to anything Jaemin could ask her, but as soon as the bread arrived, her personality had taken a one eighty. A few suggestive actions and a flirty wink later, and Jaemin was texting Donghyuck under the table to beg for backup. 

“I thought you liked straight-forward!” Jeno wails louder as Chocolate/Vanilla protests the increased decibel reading, and Jaemin finds himself stumbling for a second before he rights his skates and resumes gliding. But, he is so distracted with hobbling his way back into balance that his toe-stop catches in his wheels and lodges itself in place, throwing Jaemin wildly off balance. A desperate lean forward does nothing to help him and Jaemin finds himself falling to the floor ungracefully, only to be caught around the waist by a pair of slender arms. Unfortunately for both of them, Jaemin’s savior gets caught up in his momentum and sprawls into the unforgiving wooden floor right along with him. 

Jaemin can hear Jeno demanding to know if he’s okay in his ear and if something terrible happened and he needs an ambulance or an alibi, but Jaemin is far too distracted by the vision in front of him. 

“Jeno,” Jaemin starts quietly, speaking into his headphone that he holds near his mouth. “I’m gonna have to call you back later.” 

“Renjun?” 

“Renjun,” Jaemin confirms before clicking the button twice to hang up and feasting his eyes upon the beauty who is currently sprawled on top of him, an arm still lodged under his waist. 

Renjun’s legs are twisted in Jaemin’s at odd angles, and Jaemin can feel a strange hardness about them that was starting to get uncomfortable quickly, but before he can move too much, Renjun is shoving him down to stand up, face flushed and scowling. 

“I apologize for crushing you,” he says, scrambling to get away. 

“Wait, Renjun—“

“I’m busy, you’re weird, goodbye!” Renjun gets up in an eerily fluid way that only infatuates Jaemin more, and he starts to move to skate away with one last glance at Jaemin’s prone form. Jaemin’s heart sinks into his stomach instantly and he races to pull himself up, ignoring the twinge in his lower back. 

“Wait!” Jaemin cries, reaching for Renjun’s wrist before he can stop himself and stopping him in place so quickly that they tumble to the floor for a second time. “Woah,” Jaemin breathes out, forgetting for a second who’s in front of him and what exactly that exhale means before Renjun is scrambling away from him like he’s been burnt. Again. 

Renjun looks at him with a bewildered look, shocked and annoyed to be manhandled, and really, Jaemin can’t blame him but like Jeno said, he’s known for doing dumb things and he’s not going to let this chance go by. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to weird you out or anything. I just think you’re really cute and cool. Can I make it up to you with ice cream later, maybe?” He’s still holding onto Renjun’s hand, the other boy’s legs bracketing his hips from where he’s sprawled on top of him, Jaemin’s body cushioning his fall. His pants legs are riding up at the back and Renjun tugs then down with a deepening scowl. 

“Uh, no, I don’t think so, I’m not in the business of going places with rude strangers. And second of all, I don’t get off till late tonight, sorry.” He untangles himself from Jaemin, brushing off his clothes before tightening his laces with the air of someone who’s obviously uncomfortable. There’s less angelical softness in his eyes and more prickliness, almost like a hedgehog who’s curled up to protect themself. 

“Can I at least get your phone number?” Jaemin hates the pleading tone in his voice but he’s desperate right now. He’s never liked someone as much as he likes Renjun, even if he doesn’t know him yet, and if Renjun thinks he’s a creep, his life is over. Jeno’ll have to write his obituary because Jaemin will die on spot. 

“Maybe if you work for it.” Something sneaky, devilish, sneaks into Renjun’s eyes as the words leave his lips, and he winks at Jaemin before disappearing. 

Jaemin lays there on the floor, totally shocked at the turn of events before a dopey smile spreads across his face, and he starts squealing, kicking his legs around on the floor. 

Huang Renjun flirted with him!

Jeno picks him up after his date night with Donghyuck, and Jaemin thanks him with a sloppy smooch to the cheek that Jeno rejects with a scowl as he wipes the spit off. Donghyuck, however, cackles before embracing Jaemin so hard he nearly falls over. His back is starting to hurt again, probably from the fall, and Jaemin warns his friends so they can’t make it worse. 

He doesn’t miss the worried glances and careful onceovers, but he’s too exhausted to argue. They’re entitled to be worried about him. 

They drop him off outside the dorms with bright smiles, and Jaemin thanks them again before settling in to make a quick dinner for him and his ever-absent roommate, Yangyang. He’s passing the bathroom when the thought to grab an ibuprofen for his aching back occurs, and Jaemin grabs two as an afterthought, popping them back without any water. It takes a while for them to kick in. 

Jaemin crashes into the couch to eat his dinner and scroll through his photo album, legs tired from skating so much but mind refreshed, and his back tightens up a little bit in response to a wiggle to the left. Two more experimental movements reveal that it isn’t just from falling and that it’s pulling further up, where it used to pull when he still had a herniated disc. Worry tints his mind for a second before Jaemin tamps it down carefully. He doesn’t know that the injury is resurfacing, it could just be a fluke. He resolves to keep an eye on it and start doing his stretches more diligently. It will go away. It has to. 

Jaemin is skating mindless laps around the rink to the tune of Baby Don’t Stop by this wicked underground duo when someone skates up to him and links their arms, pulling him into their momentum as they perform a crossover effortlessly. Jaemin stumbles for a second as his center of gravity changes, but the person muscles him through it. 

“Renjun?” The boy in question levels him with an incredulous look, and Jaemin laughs, high pitched and awkward. “I knew that…” They’ve become friends of sorts, a kind of companionship at the rink that is mostly anonymous yet easy anyway. Jaemin likes it, although he’s still hoping they could be more. 

“I never got your name,” Renjun says instead, in lieu of greeting. “It’s been over a month and I still don’t know your name, pretty boy.” As Jaemin flounders because Renjun wants to know him?!, he rescues as a little kid from tripping over their skating guide, righting the bars for them and helping them up off the floor with a smile. Once he’s back to Jaemin, the smile falls. 

“Well?” 

“Na Jaemin, pleased be at your service.” Jaemin is a little too proud of the bow he executes as he skates backwards in order to face the referee. Renjun snorts, unimpressed. 

“Huang Renjun,” he says prettily, tones rolling off his tongue, “but you already knew that.” 

Before Jaemin can say anything dumb like hey, you’re pretty and I’m cute. Together we’d be pretty cute, Renjun is being waved to the side frantically by a coworker holding a massive, plushie dice in his hands. The referee bows out of whatever they had going on with a gracious smile and a mumbled apology before Jaemin’s left on the floor like the game-less loser he is. 

But, it seems luck is on his side because Renjun comes back to the floor a few minutes later and announces a game. He announces a skate race, where your bracket will be determined by whoever is on the number you pick to sit on when the music stops. Jaemin feels the challenge coming, a plan concocting in his head. 

He whirls around the floor carefully, making sure not to hit any kids as he weaves around and listens to the pulsing beat, watching Renjun’s face for any hint of when the music will drop. He needs to time it perfectly if he wants to go against the referee. 

Renjun is blissfully unaware of Jaemin’s attention, focused on his job, and when he pulls the control out of his pocket, Jaemin speeds up enough that he’s about a metre or two behind the other boy. His skates are still whizzing from the burst of speed, and he can feel the wheels catching on the subtle grooves in the floor from how fast he’s going. 

The music drops, and Jaemin drops to the floor with it, landing neatly on the number two with Renjun, and Renjun alone. 

“Miss me?” He teases as the referee blushes upon realizing who his new partner is. Renjun scrambles to stand up, shoving the control back in his pocket. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, dignified, before accepting the mic from the DJ and rolling the dice. Four. 

Renjun calls the kids up to the starting line for their race, winking at Jaemin as if to say, you just thought you’d made it , and drops the flag to let them start their lap. 

Immediately, a little girl with a rainbow helmet and equally bright knee pads is up and flying across the wooden floor faster than all of the other kids, largely due to the fact that she clearly knows how to skate. Everyone else is using a trainer; it’s not a fair fight. But, she wins, fair in the terms of the rules, and Renjun hands her the snack and skate credit with a smile and congratulatory pat. The boy who comes in second gets one as well. 

And so the races continue as closing hour approaches, and every time, Jaemin manages to land the same number as Renjun, other people present or not. And every time, he is denied by the stupid dice. 

By the time all the kids have run their races, and for some, even their second and third races, all that is left on the floor is Renjun and Jaemin. 

“You can’t avoid me now!” Jaemin teases lightly, waving at Renjun from across the rink as he skates circles with him and waits for the music to halt. It’s some song about not being in love from Disney’s Hercules, and the tune is catchy, even if the lyrics are unusual. 

“Who says I was trying to?” Renjun calls back, smiling a grin that catches Jaemin entirely off guard. It’s shockingly pretty, and the way his smile pulls the anti eyebrow piercing further up his cheek is endearing. He rounds the floor in no time, catching up to Jaemin with long, powerful strokes, allowing his wheels to do the work and not his feet. Jaemin has not been following that practice, and it shows in the cramped uncomfortableness of the muscles in his shins and calves. 

They dance around the floor for a while as the song changes, the DJ not bothering to do much mixing because it’s only Renjun and Jaemin left. 

Renjun side-eyes him. “Should we just get to it and skip the foreplay?” 

“Only if you bottom!” Jaemin chirps back cheerfully. “That might hurt me too much. I’m too sensitive.”  

Renjun gapes at him, and for a moment, Jaemin thinks he’s screwed up and been too forward, forgotten that Renjun isn’t his friend or anything , just a crush. Then, the referee starts to laugh.

“I like you, Na Jaemin,” he announces, stopping the music with a press of a button. 

Jaemin beams. “That’s all I ever wanted!” 

Unsurprisingly, Renjun wins the race. 

And the next. 

And the next. 

Not to mention the one after that. 

Jaemin gets used to losing, doesn’t mind, even. He falls into a rhythm of racing with Renjun when the rink is empty and dancing in a pattern only the two of them know when it’s not. He gets to witness Renjun’s snarky personality mixed with his sweetness in a place that’s in both of their elements. 

They flirt back and forth and they banter, but there’s never any acting upon it. Jaemin knows that the feeling is mutual, but he doesn’t know if Renjun is ready, and he respects that. 

So he waits. 

About two months later, when they’re going to race, late on a Friday night, the muscle in Jaemin’s back pulls, and he feels one of his discs shift. It takes him to his knees instantly, cracking on the wood, and the pinching sensation he had hated so much returns in full force. 

“Jaemin!” Renjun drops to his side, wrapping his arms around his shoulders, and Jaemin can appreciate the emptiness of the rink fully. He hates looking weak, and here he is, crumpled up on the floor in a heap. He doesn’t know which is worse, looking weak in front of Renjun, or looking pathetic in front of a lot of people. “Are you okay?” Tentative fingers prod at his face gently to make sure it’s not injured, and his hands steadily work down the rest of his body, arms and torso, feeling gently for bruises or breaks. He doesn’t think to check Jaemin’s spine. 

“I think I had another disc slip,” Jaemin grits out, smiling weakly at Renjun in a half grimace. He can taste the bitterness on his tongue. “I’ve had it happen before, and strenuous activity can make it worse, but at the same time, it can also help. Although I guess I’m the former.” 

“Oh god, that sounds bad.” Renjun pulls back to study his eyes worryingly, tilting his head back and forth to check his eyes. Jaemin’s heart swells a little. “Do I need to call an ambulance or anything?” 

“No, it’s not that bad.” Jaemin waves off Renjun’s protests as he tries to stand, but he does accept the hand that’s offered to him. “I’ll just call my best friend or his..boyfriend, they’ll come get me.” He checks Renjun’s face for any sign of recognition that Jaemin’s friend is gay. 

“Are you sure?” Renjun still hasn’t released his bicep, and his face betrays nothing but his concern for Jaemin’s health. 

That’s a good sign , Jaemin thinks. 

“Quite.” What does he think of me now? Jaemin wonders, clenching his jaw just the slightest as his brain moves on to other things. Before, he knew me as me; now, he only sees my injury. 

“At least give me your phone number? So I can check on you?” Renjun whips out his phone expectantly, not even waiting for a response. Jaemin gives it to him with a rueful smile, passing the referee his phone as well. 

“This is not how I envisioned getting your number,” he grumbles playfully, leaning on Renjun just a little. The other boy takes it in stride, adjusting his posture and brakes to keep Jaemin upright as well. 

“Don’t worry about it! I’ll take you out for ice cream or something once you see a doctor and can move again.” Renjun smiles, squeezing his arm. “Besides, dark and brooding suits you.” 

“Ew.” Renjun pinches his cheek before slowly starting to guide him to the benches along the wall. 

“Call your friend, Jaemin. I’ll close up while you wait.” 

“You better be dying,” is how Donghyuck greets him, sounding breathless and impatient. Jaemin hears sheets rustle in the background. 

“Nice to talk to you too.” 

“There’s a reason I didn’t answer the phone the first six times . You interupted some of the best sex I’ve ever had, what do you want?” Donghyuck grumbles, but it’s all bark and no bite. Jaemin can hear his attentiveness through the phone, despite what his friend says. 

“I think I re-herniated a disc, come pick me up please?” 

Donghyuck sucks in a little puff of air and lets it out slowly, his breath rushing across the phone’s speaker. 

“I’ll be there in ten.” Click. 

Jaemin lowers his phone from his ear and watches Renjun shut down the DJ booth, trying to ignore the worries clawing their way to the forefront of his mind. The injury isn’t excruciating, but it is bad. Jaemin can feel it. He can only hope that it’ll be treatable with a relatively short rehab because he doesn’t want to know what he’ll do if he can no longer come to the roller rink and see Renjun. 

When Donghyuck storms inside to pick up Jaemin, there’s vengeance written across his face in all caps in bold font. But, when he sees Renjun at his side, the expression sharpens and Jaemin groans in anticipation. Renjun looks at him inquisitively. 

“I thought he was your friend?”

“That doesn’t mean he can’t be a little shit.” Jaemin groans, hauling himself into standing position. He levels a serious, no-nonsense look at Donghyuck that gets returned with an angelic beam. Lies. 

“You must be Renjun!” Donghyuck coos, going straight for the one thing Jaemin doesn’t want him to. “I’ve heard so much about you!” He sweeps Renjun into a hug without preamble, and the referee goes quietly, looking bewildered. 

“You have?” 

“Yes! Jaemin talks about you all the time.”

“Really?” 

Jaemin interjects before Donghyuck can continue that dangerous line of conversation. “That’s enough of that! Can we go now? Jeno must be bored waiting for us.” He makes a shooing gesture behind Renjun’s back to convey his displeasure with his friend’s antics and to try to get him to release his crush. 

“He’s not in the car, but okay. ” Donghyuck sings the last word in a tone that clearly conveys this is not over, but he concedes, letting go of Renjun with a wink. 

“But...you said-” Jaemin flounders. 

“I know what I said.” A smirk. 

“Ew!” Jaemin can feel his good reputation with Renjun dripping down the drain as he closes his eyes against the nasty onslaught of unwanted images. “You know I’m obligated to tell Jeno if you’re cheating on him!” 

“Please,” Donghyuck scoffs, “if you slept with him, you’d know: there is no one better than Jeno.” Jaemin whines low in his throat, pressing his fingers into his eyes like he can physically remove the images he wishes were not in his head, and Renjun giggles quietly, quickly muffling it behind his hand when he realizes it was heard. Jaemin turns baleful eyes on his crush, who just smiles. 

“Not helping.”

“Sorry!”

“Besides,” Donghyuck chirps cheerfully, glee evident in his tone, “if I leave him tied up for a little while… he’ll do me so good later.” And with that, his friend sweeps out the door. 

“Your friends are fun,” Renjun remarks quietly, stifling a laugh as he helps Jaemin out the door. 

“You have no idea.” 

The doctor confirms that his disc is herniated again, but that it isn’t overly serious. A few days of bed-rest matched with taking it easy on crutches for a few weeks should fix him up okay. Jaemin is happy, at least, to not have to get an epidural (yet) to deal with the pain, settling for a shit ton of ibuprofen and water instead. 

Jaemin is sitting on his bed after his three days of bed rest, preparing to go back to bed for actual sleeping-time, when he remembers Renjun. The referee had asked for updates on his health, and Jaemin had left him floating for three days! 

He shoots him a text but gets no response after a few minutes, and Jaemin lies back down with a sigh, throwing an arm over his eyes. He can wait till tomorrow to talk to the referee; it’s not like their relationship is painstakingly close. They have similar passions, but there’s not much else. 

And so, Jaemin is sitting on a bench outside the roller rink at closing time and rubbing his eyes after a long day when Renjun stumbles out the door, fiddling distractedly with his pants leg. 

“Hey, Renjun,” Jaemin greets quietly, propping his arms up on the crutches. The referee apparently didn’t see him because he startles for a second before regaining his balance. 

“Hey, Jaemin!” He smiles, looking relieved, and plops down next to him. “I was going to call you today to ask how you were!” 

“I’m...okay.” Jaemin leans towards him a little to bump their shoulders. “I might not look so hot, but it takes a little more than that to take me out.” 

“Confident,” Renjun announces, leaning forward and propping his face up on his hands. “I like that.” 

Jaemin feels a blush rise up out of nowhere, cheeks heating up. Why? He doesn’t get flustered often, so what is it about Huang Renjun that destroys him like nothing? 

“You know what else I like?” Renjun whispers, leaning even closer, and all of a sudden, the world feels very real to Jaemin. When did he get so close? Where did he even come from? How was it that Renjun’s hand was on his thigh and his breath on his cheeks? 

“What?” Jaemin breathes, feeling hot under his shirt as his eyes slip shut. It’s been so long since he’s been kissed…

“Food. I’m hungry. If you pay, I’ll kiss you. Seriously.” Renjun pulls back with a glimmering smirk, and Jaemin whips his eyes open with a poorly-concealed whine. He watches the amusement and hint of self-satisfaction fill his crush’s eyes and tries to gather the last shreds of his dignity. Renjun’s hand is still on his thigh. 

“Isn’t that hooking?” He manages with a grimace, closing his lips that had parted ever so slightly. He can feel the heat on his cheeks, the pounding of his heart. Goodness gracious, this was embarrassing.

“Maybe.” Renjun darts over to press a kiss to his cheek before he’s standing up and brushing himself off. He sticks his hand out for a shell-shocked Jaemin to grasp. “Coming?” 

He can only nod. 

To: Huang Renjun-ssi

Renjunnie!!!! 

From: Huang Renjun-ssi

Hm? 

To: Huang Renjun-ssi

I missed you 

From: Huang Renjun-ssi

What scheming are you up to? 

To: Huang Renjun-ssi

Do you want to go on a date? 

From: Huang Renjun-ssi

No, because I have no interest in dying young 

To: Huang Renjun-ssi

WHAT 

WDYMMMM

YOU WOUND ME 

HOW WOULD YOU DIE 

WE LITERALLY WENT ON A DATE LAST WEEK!

。・°°・(＞_＜)・°°・。

From: Huang Renjun-ssi

Well there are a lot of possibilities 

I could contract a rare disease from you and die 

Have a spontaneous heart attack 

Asphyxiation issues 

Random cars not obeying traffic laws 

To: Huang Renjun-ssi

RENJUN! 

From: Huang Renjun-ssi

Selective lightning attacks 

Killer grandmas with scissors 

To: Huang Renjun-ssi

OKAY 

You have to deal with that like every day of your life, Renjun, how does going on a date with me increase your chances? 

From: Huang Renjun-ssi

You might be planning to murder me with your keys and unique pattern scissors 

To: Huang Renjun-ssi

WHAT IS WITH THE SCISSORS?! 

From: Huang Renjun-ssi

Or hire your hitmen buddies to take me out 

Maybe you’re planning to inject me with some strange substance that will leave me powerless to your every whim 

To: Huang Renjun-ssi

…

do you really believe I’d do all that…? 

From: Huang Renjun-ssi

Not really 

I’m free at 10 am on Saturday 

:) 

Jaemin is at the doctors again a few weeks later, the slipped disc in his back still not letting up. He hadn’t even been to the rink to skate, even if it killed him to look at his shiny black skates lying untied by the door. It was like that one psychological theory, the more you’re told not to do something, the more you want to do it. 

At any rate, he still climbs up on the table diligently and changes into the sterile outfit like expected before leaning back against the wall. It’s cool against his back, and it’s only then that Jaemin realizes he’s sweating. The injury has been taking a lot out of him. 

He’s a mix of exhausted and happy, even if he’s in pain, because while school is taking him out with a vengeance, Renjun is lighting him up from the inside out. He’s everything Jaemin had hoped for and more. 

He likes the mirth in the older’s eyes when he says something classically savage; he likes the sharpness and the sweetness both; he likes the philosophical discussions and late-night talks on the phone until they both fall asleep. 

Really, he just likes Renjun. 

Jaemin is a little preoccupied throughout his whole checkup, but the doctor does inform him that perhaps an epidural is best. His already frayed nerves threaten to snap, but at the same time, Jaemin does know that it’s probably the best pain manager he has on-hand. 

The doctor doesn’t mention surgery, much to his relief, and restricts him to even less movement and exercise, but he does not take away his crutches in favour of something more extreme. They take x-rays and scans to make sure that nothing is potentially compromising his nerves, and, blessedly, there is nothing dangerous. Only pain. 

They inject the anesthesia into his spine with a needle that is too long and too pinching for Jaemin to do anything other than hiss in pain and curl up tighter in his little ball of limbs. When it’s all said and done, the doctor leads him out of the hospital with a hand on his elbow, helping to balance him on the crutches. 

Jaemin absolutely detests being injured, and he hates the loss of autonomy that comes with it. A cold can be shaken off in a few days, and a pulled muscle gets over itself quickly, but a severe injury tends to become all-consuming. 

He settles outside with the intention of whining in Jeno’s texts until his friend picks him up, but while he’s sitting there composing a message, he notices a particular boy walking out of the hospital. 

“Hey, Renjun!” Jaemin hollers, cupping his hands around his mouth. He startles but starts to grin, waving back enthusiastically. Jaemin watches him start into a little run, but it quickly devolves into an awkward limp-hobble before straightening out. He’s concerned, but it’s not really his place to ask. Renjun will tell him if he deems it important. 

“Oh, Jaemin! I didn’t know you’d be here.” He smiles, leaning down to hug the blue-haired boy. 

“You know me,” he chuckles, giving Renjun a squeeze, “I inhabit the places you least expect, you know?” 

“I guess.” Renjun offers him another tiny smile, leaning back and shoving his hands in his pockets. “So, what brings you here? Good news or bad news? Will I be seeing your pretty face at the rink again soon?” 

He swoons a little. Flirty is a good look on Renjun. Everything is a good look on Renjun. “No, I’m afraid not.” He pouts as best as he can, batting his eyelashes just a tad bit more dramatically at usual to coax another intoxicating laugh out of his crush. “Stupid spine has decided that it’s time to play Jenga, only it can’t decide which way the piece is going.” 

“That’s…an interesting metaphor.” 

“Yeah, it’s kinda weak. Just like I am for you!” 

Renjun blushes instead of firing back a witty riposte, and Jaemin dies a little bit more inside. He’s so cute! “Smooth,” he chokes out, scrubbing at his reddened cheeks with a sweater paw. 

“Do you have a favourite pickup line?” 

“Are you made of beryllium, gold, titanium? Because you’re BeAuTi-ful!” Renjun peters off into an awkward chuckle.

“Oh my god, tell me you’re a chemistry major!” 

“I am?” Renjun makes a cute confused face that scrunches up his nose. 

“It’s like we were meant to be!” He declares, slinging an arm around the other boy’s waist to pull him closer. In this position, Renjun is way taller, and Jaemin is craning his neck to look up at him. It’s awfully intimate, nothing like the cheek kisses and shy hand-holding they’ve done before. 

“Oh really? You major in chem too?” Renjun looks elated. 

“Nope! I hated Chemistry! But, baby, I do know one thing: we’ve got it.” Jaemin winks and puckers his lips teasingly, not really expecting anything. But, to his surprise, Renjun snorts and rolls his eyes, but he does oblige him with a tiny peck, closing the gap as quickly as possible before his lips are gone again. Jaemin savours it for a second, their first kiss , before sliding his eyes open. 

Renjun is shifting from foot to foot shyly, but his face is alight with amusement. He looks more at ease than he did before, and Jaemin gives him another kiss until Renjun pulls away. He enjoys everything they do together, and after so many months it’s become natural and mutual, but they still haven’t defined or explicitly stated anything. Jaemin finds himself wanting to, though, as he drinks in the look of his crush. 

“That was really nice,” Renjun whispers, voice cracking. “We should try it again some time.” 

“I agree!” Jaemin goes to stand up, only to realize Renjun’s shoes are untied. That won’t do. 

“Here, let me tie your shoes for you, I don’t want you falling for anyone else,” Jaemin murmurs distractedly, forgetting what he was intending to say as he gestures for Renjun to put his foot up on the bench next to him. He’s apologetic that he can’t bend down to help, but instead of complying easily or commenting on the abundance of pickup lines, the referee looks frozen. 

“Renjun? What’s wrong?” 

“Uh,” Renjun stammers, flushing up to his ears and shifting from foot to foot, hands shoved in his pockets once more. 

Jaemin’s eyes narrow in concern. “Yes? Are you okay? Did I say something wrong?” 

“Um.” Another short pause. “No,” Renjun breathes out finally, slumping back down. “No, I’m fine. You’re good.” He props his foot up on the bench for Jaemin, and the boy obliges, tying the laces tightly. 

“There,” Jaemin announces, patting Renjun’s foot. “All better!” 

“Uh, yeah.” Renjun still looks shy, and with that in mind, Jaemin hauls himself off the bench with his crutches with minimal difficulty, letting his forearms settle back into the metal cuffs. The shyness is a strange look on him, although not unflattering, and it softens the defiantly determined aura he gives off, lightens the sharpness in his eyes. 

“Do you want to grab a cone with me?” Jaemin offers, smiling at the referee. “I have some spare change.” 

“Oh!” Renjun looks surprised that Jaemin would ever want to hang out with him outside of the roller rink, despite the fact that they've been out together twice already, and it makes him nudge the other boy just a little bit. A small smile breaks out over his face. “I’d love to,” he says shyly. Jaemin kisses his cheek, unable to resist. He’ll broach seriousness later, right now, he just wants to take Renjun on a cute date. 

“And on we go, my liege!” 

“...you’re kind of weird, you know.” 

Jaemin totally doesn’t visit the roller rink to do his homework during the weeks that come. He totally doesn’t occupy the bench against the wall and hold his pencil between his teeth as he works on maths, and he definitely doesn’t check out Renjun from time to time. 

He doesn’t get weird looks when he sits there like a fool and doesn’t skate, and he doesn’t sign an autograph for a little girl because she thinks he looks like an idol. 

What he does do is feel the vertebrae in his spine start to cooperate again and fall back into their slots. Slowly, Jaemin starts to feel intact again, and the crutches start to become less important as the pulls in his back decrease. Day by day, he takes himself across his room with slow and shuffling steps, and when he makes it to his crutches, propped up against the bathroom, he sends Renjun a triumphant text. 

Every single day. 

Sometimes Renjun says sweet things like, “I’m so proud of you!” and “that’s amazing!”, but mostly, Jaemin just lives off the selcas and heart emojis that he receives. He never expected Renjun to be a cute texter, but that’s exactly what he is. 

They even go on other dates together, and not just for food or skating. They go to the theatre once together, to see a horror movie that has Renjun hiding in Jaemin’s chest, trembling from terror. He also has to pay Renjun back in childish cartoons, but he’s happy to watch them as well, so long as he has Renjun to hold his hand. 

Eventually, Jaemin gets to the point that he gets to walk Renjun home from work. They have to take the elevator for a little while longer in order to reach his apartment, but they both don’t mind the extra time to talk. 

Sometimes they’ll talk about their families and what they miss most about home (Jaemin misses his grandmother, and Renjun misses his parents), and others they’ll talk about their theories, and hopes and dreams (Jaemin learns Renjun is an avid alien enthusiast). They have a dynamic that Jaemin absolutely adores; they’re not just friends because they do physically romantic things, but they’re nowhere close to friends with benefits status either. They just enjoy being with each other, and Jaemin couldn’t appreciate it more. 

On a Friday night, Jaemin falls back into bed to go to sleep after a long day and realizes he hasn’t texted Renjun goodnight yet. 

To: Renjunnie whomst illuminates the world and my heart 

Goodnight~ sweet dreams, lovely <33333

From: Renjunnie whomst illuminates the world and my heart 

G’night Jaemin <3

It’s not until he rolls over and adjusts his pillow that Jaemin realizes: he’s falling fast, and falling hard. 

Jaemin is over at Jeno and Donghyuck’s apartment playing PUBG with his best friend when a knock sounds on the door. It’s a hot day out, and there’s homework to be done, but neither one really cares. It being a Friday means that there’s an entire weekend to finish it, and who even cares about the boring escapades of old dead dudes? 

“Coming!” Jeno yells, setting down his phone. “It’s probably just Hyuck with the groceries. He must have forgotten his keys.” Jaemin nods, too focused on taking out a player named CL_delfin as Jeno walks over to the door and peers through the peephole. 

A second after he opens the door, Donghyuck waltzes in, arms full of groceries, yet he’s still tugging someone in behind him. Renjun. Jaemin’s character dies as he tries to figure out how the fuck Donghyuck has procured a Renjun out of thin air. 

“I brought dinner!” He chirps cheerfully, but it’s clear by the eyebrow wiggle and sneaky smirk that Donghyuck is not referring to the food. Jaemin immediately reddens and pales at the same time. He must have looked very constipated. 

“Hey, Jaemin,” Renjun greets him, smiling, as they hear Donghyuck and Jeno being disgustingly cute in the kitchen as they hash out who is doing what to put away the groceries. “I was told you’d be here.” 

“Funny, I wasn’t.” He lets Renjun walk over and kiss him, sinking into the touch. His lips are warm as always, and he tastes of the lemon lip balm Jaemin has learned he favours. 

“I can leave.” Renjun smirks, pulling away and bustling towards the door as if he’s actually going to leave Jaemin on Donghyuck and Jeno’s floor to be teased mercilessly. 

“No! Stay!” Jaemin whines and catches his hand, and Renjun grins back, even if he whines and complains as loudly as possible. Still, he doesn’t say anything when Jaemin pulls him into his lap as Jeno starts up another round. 

Donghyuck and Jaemin whip up dinner while Jeno explains to Renjun why their cats are named so strangely. Chocolate had curled up in Renjun’s lap and immediately started purring, and Renjun had stroked his fingers through the fluffy white fur with wonder in his eyes until Vanila butted in for her lovings as well. 

“So,” Donghyuck drawls, bumping his hip with a grin. Jaemin takes a second to appreciate the lack of crutches to balance on before he bumps his friend back with a vengeance. “Renjun, huh?” 

“What about him?” Jaemin wills his face into stoicism and focuses on cutting the carrots into nice, even pieces, about a centimetre thick. He knows that putting up even token resistance is pretty pointless because he’s told Jeno everything about Renjun and by extension, that means he’s told Donghyuck as well. There’s no escaping the teasing that’s coming, but really, Jaemin signed up for this shit. 

“He’s cute.” Donghyuck slides him a bowl for the carrots, and Jaemin fills it slowly. His heart is beating ridiculously fast; it’s insane. He’s never been so nervous to introduce someone to his friends (even if Donghyuck had already kidnapped him), and it’s a feeling that he’s a little swept away by. 

“What, did you just decide, ‘oh, he’s cute! I’ll just kidnap Nana’s crush from the supermarket and invite him to join Jeno and I in a threesome!’?” Jaemin raises an eyebrow at his friend, but Donghyuck only beams. 

“No, actually, I invited him to sleep with you. ” Jaemin chokes and sputters on that for a few minutes while Donghyuck washes lettuce with a bored expression. 

“W-what?” He croaks, holding onto the carrots like they’re his lifeline. His fingers are whitening around the ceramic decorated with little green dinosaurs. 

“Seriously, Nana, lighten up a little bit! I would never do that! I asked Renjun over for dinner because I wanted to know the boy you’ve fallen head over heels for! Do I really need to have an ulterior motive?” 

“Yes!” 

Donghyuck rolls his eyes and flicks water at Jaemin from the faucet. “No, stupid, you’ve been single for ages and Jen and I were worried about you. Now that you’ve been actively pursuing Renjun...we just want to be involved in your life.” 

Jaemin takes a second to mentally gag over the fusing of Jeno and Donghyuck into a ‘we’ before melting just a little. Donghyuck is right. He’s been single for a long, long time, and it really isn’t all it’s hyped up to be. It’s hard to fall asleep sometimes without wishing for someone to hold who will stay the next night, and the one after that. He doesn’t want to rush Renjun into anything, but he does want something more than mutual flirting. 

Recently, it’s slipped under his skin like an itch that cannot be scratched, worming into his brain, unbidden. Jaemin has been a little consumed with the idea of getting to see Renjun more than once or twice a week, with being able to kiss him or call him his boyfriend. Perhaps it’s the perpetual single-ness talking, but whatever it is, Jaemin really, really likes Renjun, and he wants him to like his friends as well. 

He feels a spark he hasn’t felt in a while, and Jaemin only hopes that Renjun feels the same. 

After dinner, they’re all curled up on Jeno and Donghyuck’s old, ratty couch in the equally old and somewhat-messy-looking living room in couples. They’ve got Jeno’s laptop set up on a pile of textbooks so that they can all see it, and Vanilla is curled up right next to it, brown tail flickering across the keyboard from time to time. Right now, there’s nothing playing on it because Donghyuck and Renjun are debating what movies to watch while simultaneously vetoing everything Jeno suggests. Unsurprisingly, the two of them get along better than Jaemin expected, and they bounce off of each other’s sass and energy like they were meant to be soulmates. It’s a little disorienting, considering they’ve only met a few times, but Jaemin likes to see the ease on Renjun’s face. He’s not exactly shy, per se, but Jaemin has noticed that unfamiliar places and unfamiliar people make him retreat into a quiet shell until he’s scoped out the situation.

He’s glad that Renjun feels safe with his friends. 

Jeno and Jaemin trade fond looks as their respective love interests stick their heads together and search for a movie on Jeno’s phone, trading commentary on the summaries as they look. Jeno sends Jaemin one of his signature eye-smiles, immediately making Jaemin warm inside. It’s crazy how just one look from his best friend conveys a thousand things. 

He’s the one, huh? Jeno’s eyes seem to ask. 

He is, Jaemin says back, scrunching up in a bashful smile over Renjun’s head, as the older boy falls back against his chest, wrapping Jaemin’s arms around him insistently. 

I’m happy for you, Nana, Jeno mouths before he leans back and rearranges Donghyuck so that he’s seated more comfortably next to him. Donghyuck doesn’t seem to like it (shocking, Jaemin knows), and he watches with amusement as the younger manhandles Jeno into the position that he wants him in, plopping half into his lap without asking if it’s okay. Jeno complies easily, cuddling him back as he sets up the movie to watch. 

Jaemin can’t really see around the bodies what it is that Jeno is setting up, but he settles for squeezing Renjun a little tighter. 

“What movie did you pick?” He whispers into Renjun’s ear, smiling against his bleached hair as his crush shifts closer to him. They’ve cuddled far more than platonic friends usually do (Donghyuck and Jeno don’t count!), but Jaemin doesn’t mind at all. He’s always been touch driven, and while Renjun seems to tolerate it with other people, he actively seeks it out with Jaemin. Now that, that makes him feel special. 

“Donghyuck picked the Little Mermaid, and I’ve never seen it so I said yes.” Renjun hums when Jaemin starts playing with his fingers, wiggling a little in his arms. Vanilla’s ears perk up immediately when she sees the extra room on Renjun’s lap, and she makes it known that she wants a place on it as well, meowing loudly. Renjun chuckles, indulging the cat, and he scoops her up and settles her on his thighs, petting her over Jaemin’s arms, still tucked around his middle. 

“You’ve never seen it?” Jaemin questions absently, but he’s more focused on the purring fluffball on Renjun’s lap. Never, in all of his time at Jeno and Donghyuck’s apartment, has that kitten curled up with him. In fact, Jeno and he had privately suspected that Vanilla hated everyone except Donghyuck. He didn’t know whether to be proud or insulted that the cat liked Renjun. 

“No, but I usually don’t watch cartoons. I only ever really watched Moomin.” 

Moonmin?! Jaemin feels ready to combust. Renjun is too cute! 

Their conversation gets put on hold by the movie’s opening theme and the backdrop of the castle, but Renjun cuddles in closer to Jaemin and continues petting the kitten on his lap, and he quickly finds other things to think about. All the while, Jaemin can only wonder if Renjun can feel the racing of his heart and the quickness of his breath. 

Renjun really does take him apart and put him back together. 

They’re about halfway through the movie where Ariel’s friends are trying to get Prince Eric to kiss her, when Donghyuck shifts over a little bit too much and bumps into Renjun. It was tight to begin with, so it’s not like anyone thought it wasn’t going to happen, but what Renjun says next floors everyone . 

“Sorry, I can take off my leg to give you more room?” 

Jaemin chokes on air, whipping his head around to look at the boy curled up in his side, seeing the astonishment on Donghyuck and Jeno’s faces as well. 

But, none of them say anything when Renjun does, rolling up his pants leg to reveal a smooth, plastic-and-metal prosthetic that he takes off and sets on the ground in front of the couch, effectively freeing up some space on the couch. 

It explains a few things, like the hardness of his leg against Jaemin’s when they fell on the floor together the very first time they met, and it explains the discomfort that Renjun clearly seemed to be in when they got up. He could imagine that having plastic jammed into your thigh was highly uncomfortable. Jaemin also realizes that the prosthetic was part of why Renjun was nervous for Jaemin to tie his shoe and panicked when he touched his foot, as well as why the older boy was always wearing long pants. 

Renjun looks back up only to be met with three sets of eyes that were doing terrible jobs of concealing their shock, and he whitens. Donghyuck picks up on it and announces he’s going to pop popcorn, while Jeno declares that a certain building in the movie looks interesting (typical architecture major, Jaemin thinks, mentally rolling his eyes in fondness for his best friend). Renjun seems to relax a little bit at that, and Jaemin only pulls him closer and whispers in his ear, “you’re beautiful, Huang Renjun.” 

It isn’t until it’s nearly midnight and they’re leaving the apartment that Renjun broaches the topic again. 

“Was that weird?” Renjun asks as they walk out of the apartment and down the stairs. He’s wrapped up in a purple hoodie, carrying the leftovers Donghyuck insisted they take with them, but he’s still shivering in the wind-chill. Jaemin strips off his own jacket, wrapping it around Renjun’s shoulders without even thinking. 

“Hm? Was what weird?” He asks, as he takes the food from the other boy. 

“Taking off my leg. Because I think it was weird. Like, a lot weird.” 

“Oh. That.” Jaemin glances over at him and sees the insecurity in his eyes. It sends a little stab of pain through him. Sure, it was a little shocking, but it’s not as if Jaemin cares. It only makes Renjun even stronger in his eyes, and not having a leg doesn’t define you or anything. He takes Renjun’s hand and gives it a squeeze. “I think it was perfectly fine.” 

“Are you sure?” The tiny waver has Jaemin pulling Renjun to a stop, gently cupping his face in his hands so he can’t look away. 

“Absolutely. Not having a leg doesn’t make me like you any less.” 

“Thank you…” Renjun stands on his tiptoes to give him a kiss, only to stop short. “Is this a bad time to tell you I don’t have a second foot as well?” 

Jaemin huffs a laugh. “I’ll like you no matter how many body parts you have, Huang Renjun.” 

“It’s called osteosarcoma,” is the first thing out of Renjun’s mouth as Jaemin picks up the call. His voice is a little tense, and Jaemin rolls over on his bed to get closer to the speaker.

“No hello?” He teases, trying to diffuse Renjun’s nervousness. It’s been about a week since their double-date at Donghyuck and Jeno’s. Jaemin’s been fiddling with asking Renjun out for real, but every time he wants to, the referee is busy. Actually, until today, Jaemin was really starting to believe Renjun didn’t want the same things he did from their relationship. He’s glad to be proven wrong. 

“No.” Renjun sounds almost insulted. “Yah, I’m trying to be serious and have an important conversation, Jaemin-ah!” 

“My apologies, continue, love.” 

Renjun gags, but Jaemin can hear the relief in his tone anyway. “Anyway, as I was saying, I had osteosarcoma, aka bone cancer. That’s what took my leg and foot. You know that quote from the Fault In Our Stars? ‘Osteosarcoma sometimes takes a limb to check you out. Then, if it likes you, it takes the rest’? I got kind of lucky. It liked my leg; it went after my foot, but it didn’t stand a chance against chemo. Neither did I, really. But it’s been a long time, don’t worry! I’m already past the five year remission window! Which technically never makes me safe but whatever, I’m alive right now. It’s not like I can do anything if it does.” It all comes out in a rush, and Jaemin takes a moment to process it. There are a lot of questions he could ask, but he doesn’t want to make Renjun uncomfortable. 

“Do you want to come over?” He asks instead, offering up a lifeline for in-person communication, or a way out of the conversation. “Or do you want me to come over?” 

“Um.” Renjun takes a deep breath, and Jaemin freezes. Did he somehow say something wrong? Was what he said not what Renjun wanted? “I’m actually outside your dorm right now?” 

Jaemin barks a laugh, tossing himself out of his bed with a bounce. He practically runs to the front door, sliding on stockinged feet, and when he rips it open, there stands Huang Renjun in all his beautiful, tiny glory, piercing glinting in the shitty lighting of the hallway. 

“Hey, beautiful,” he simpers, draping himself over the doorway fetchingly. 

“Weirdo.” Renjun brushes past him, elbowing his side lightly, but Jaemin sees the smile he sneaks when he thinks he’s not looking. 

“So, did you eat anything yet?” 

“Nope. I see what Donghyuck meant when he called you the mom-friend.” Renjun is perched on his sofa when Jaemin turns around with an indignant look, and he looks tiny and cute amongst Yangyang’s hideous pikachu pillows. He’s swinging his legs back and forth, hands trapped under his thighs. 

“I am no such thing! The audacity!” Jaemin grasps his chest dramatically with two loud slaps, and he throws his head back like he’s dying. Renjun positively cackles at that. A pause. “What else did Hyuck tell you?”  

“Something about a long breadstick?” 

Jaemin wails in embarrassment and covers his eyes like he can block out Renjun’s words if he can’t see him. “What else?” He groans. 

“That you’re head over heels for me.” He can hear the satisfaction, and he peeks through his fingers. Sure enough, Renjun is sitting there with a smile, fluffing his white hair absently 

“That, at least, is true.” Jaemin walks over to him and gives him a forehead kiss. Renjun leans into it, catching his hand. 

“Jaemin?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Thank you.” 

“For what?” 

“Everything, really. For being so nice to me, for running me over that day, for being my friend. It’s a little lonely sometimes.” Renjun pulls an unflattering face, and Jaemin huffs a laugh, smoothing out the little wrinkle lines it creates. 

“Of course. I’d do anything for you.” He pokes Renjun’s cheek and gives him a winning smile before continuing, “except maybe commit a felony. That’s a bit much.” 

“Your undying love for me doesn’t come without caveats?” 

“We’ll see.” 

They’re curled up on Jaemin’s bed after a while of talking and eating dinner. He whipped up some ramen for Renjun and him, forgoing the coriander on Renjun’s portion, and they ate in companionable silence. Jaemin amused himself with visually mapping out the lines of Renjun’s face, the every quirk of his facial expressions, and memorizing the sound of his breathing. He really was enchanted, and Jaemin had gone so long without feeling anything so strong for another person that it really blew him away. 

There was just something different about Renjun. 

“Does it bother you?” Renjun’s voice breaks into Jaemin’s sleepy thoughts, and he hums, turning over to hug his crush. They’re both showered and changed, and if Jaemin lets his mind wander too much, he’ll combust because Huang Renjun is in his bed in his clothes. It’s endearing. 

“No!” Jaemin sits up a little to look at him, but Renjun pushes him down gently. Jaemin pouts up at him but only gets a tap to the nose. “How could it,” he continues, “when it’s part of you? I lo- like you,” Jaemin murmurs into his shoulder, hoping Renjun doesn’t catch his slip. However, all he feels is Renjun’s kiss to his temple. It’s unexpectedly sweet for whatever their relationship is, and it only makes Jaemin cuddle even closer. 

“I don’t know.” Renjun takes a deep breath. “I guess it just disgusts people. Scares them, maybe? To be so close to me when their skin could brush against it? It’s just a stump of flesh and bone, but I guess it bothers them. That, or I get pity. That’s even worse.” 

“I think I could understand that. I would never be in the same situation as you, but when I’m at the doctors every three months or so for my back, the nurses always give me pitying looks. It’s not the same, but I can understand where you’re coming from.” 

“Mm.” 

“Renjun?” 

“Hm?”

“Thank you for telling me. It seems hard for you, and I really appreciate it. I would have never expected you to, so the fact that you trust me enough to share this with me means a lot to me.” Jaemin pours all of his earnesty into the statement. He needs Renjun to know how much this impacts him, for Renjun to know that Jaemin knows how important this is to him.

“You’re welcome I guess. I don’t know why I did, but I just trust you. Does that make me stupid?” Renjun props himself up on his elbows and Jaemin sits up with him, looking into his eyes in the darkness. 

“You could never be stupid.” Jaemin cups his face in his hands and feels the situation sink in all at once. There’s no taking back the intimacy of this moment, and all of a sudden, he’s worried that Renjun can tell . That what he wants will be written across the line of his body and the shadows of his face. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asks instead, trying to deflect from the situation. Renjun surges forward in response, and Jaemin sinks into his kiss. It’s not fast by any means, and it feels like molasses, flowing slowly and sweetly. He can feel Renjun’s lip between his own, and he tilts his head a little to deepen it and slot their noses together just right. 

When Renjun pulls back, Jaemin pushes their foreheads together, chuckling just so slightly. 

“Have you ever been so enamoured with someone that their every move amazes you?” Renjun breathes against Jaemin’s lips, the corners of his mouth drawn up into a smile. Somewhere in their kiss, Renjun had brought his hand up to hold Jaemin’s against his face, and Jaemin can feel the scratchiness of his palm against the back of his hand. He feels like melting into a puddle. 

“Yeah.” One word, yet it’s laden with meaning. Renjun laughs again and connects their lips, eyes sliding shut. Jaemin follows suit. 

After a while, their kisses slow down and the need to sleep makes itself known once more. Jaemin feels like he’s drowning in Renjun’s closeness, in the different facets of his personality and all of the vulnerabilities he’s shown, the trust he has in Jaemin. There’s something really beautiful about trust between two people who really care for each other, and it’s omnipresent between the two of them. 

“Do you mind if I cuddle you to sleep? Can I touch you?” 

“No, I don’t, you absolutely can. Do you?” 

“Of course not.” Jaemin feels Renjun’s fingers slide into his hair from behind as he wraps an arm around him securely. Their previous conversation flashes through his ears, and Jaemin has a thought. He slides his hand down to Renjun’s thigh, some of it covered by the top of Jaemin’s shirt, and gives him the opportunity to slide away or pull back, but he doesn’t. Instead, Renjun only trembles against him, and Jaemin kisses his shoulder through his shirt. His lips are swollen from kissing, and they must be red with blood from how they’re pulsing, but all he can focus on is Renjun. He runs a fingertip over the edge of Renjun’s leg with a feather-light touch. It’s a little scarred, but the skin is soft. He can feel the strength coiled in his muscles under the skin. It really is just a leg, and it hurts Jaemin to know that Renjun is so insecure because of it. 

Renjun only shifts a little when Jaemin lets go and brings his hand back up the line of his body to rest on his waist. Jaemin squeezes him tight. 

“You have sexy legs, Huang Renjun,” is all he says, burrowing into Renjun closer. He can feel the sleep on the edges of his conscience. Having Renjun in his bed is already a surreal experience, but getting to cuddle him is a thousand times better. At this point, Jaemin knows that this is not what disinterested friends do, even if they’re close. This is romance; this is intimate, and it excites him as much as it terrifies him. In just months, how is it possible that he could fall for someone this hard? 

They need to talk. But now is not the time. Jaemin is too tired, and nighttime is not a good time for serious talks. It’s not because he’s scared, he tells himself. It’s not because he’ll lose Renjun if he tells him. He won’t lose him like he lost the others. 

Jaemin wishes he could believe himself. 

Renjun curls around him more and rests his head atop his. Jaemin can feel his warm breath on his skin, heating him up like a living furnace. “You really are a wonder, Na Jaemin.” 

Jaemin manages to make his way back to the roller rink in between tests and projects for class, but it is definitely difficult. Luckily, he has Renjun’s number and is able to talk to him whenever. Otherwise, between downing unhealthy amounts of caffeine and spending obscene amounts of money on coriander, Jaemin is doing okay. The epidural was one of the greatest pain controllers of his life, and he went back to the doctor to confirm that his discs were okay and not slipping too far. He was officially marked as okay to skate, and as soon as he is able to, he takes the chance. 

The loud music hits him in the face as Jaemin walks through the rotating doors of the rink, and he can see the DJ enjoying himself in his booth raised above the floor. The concession stand seems to be busy today as well, and Jaemin makes his way to the lockers to put his backpack away. He had come right after a lecture, and he doesn’t fancy getting his laptop stolen. 

When he emerges, skates on, he sees a familiar figure taking laps slowly around the skate floor, lazily turning around as he goes, moving to the rhythm of the skates. The only difference is that today, Renjun is wearing shorts. His long pants are gone, and it seems that somewhere in between their movie night and their conversation on the phone, Renjun realized that it shouldn’t matter. Jaemin’s really proud of him. It takes a lot to be brave. 

Jaemin rolls out onto the floor as Renjun reaches the opposite side of the floor. By the time he gains his momentum, the referee will be next to him. Above head, the lights become lasers and all the other lights shut off. Darkness. 

Renjun catches Jaemin anyway. 

“Hey, pretty boy!” Renjun greets, holding Jaemin’s hand tighter. “How have you been?” 

“No worse than yesterday,” Jaemin returns, yelling a little to be heard over the music. “I missed you, though.” 

“I did too!” Renjun tugs him down into the Pit which has less kids in it today. “Listen, I had something I was meaning to ask you!” 

“Oh really? What is it?” Jaemin follows easily. He knows that whatever Renjun does, he won’t let him get hurt. Then, it clicks in his head. 

Is Renjun about to ask him to be his boyfriend officially? It’s not as if they’re not basically a couple already, and they do all of the kissing and all of the sweet stuff already. It wouldn’t be anything more than an official promise, if that was what they wanted. 

Jaemin wanted. 

“Would you want to be my-” Renjun is interrupted by a siren, blaring and loud, and it takes over the musical soundtrack. “Dammit, it’s a fire drill!” He says in Jaemin’s ear. “I’ve got to go! Meet you outside!” And then, Renjun is gone. 

Jaemin swears, stomping his skates around a little bit before helping parents scoop up kids and take them outside. Of all the frustrating things to happen, this really takes the cake. He resolves that as soon as he sees Renjun, he’s going to ask him. Kiss him too, maybe even. Does that make sense? Jaemin feels like he’s losing it a little. 

Once they’re outside the rink, Jaemin is consumed only with finding Renjun. He can see over a decent amount of the crowd’s heads, but pinpointing the white hair is harder than expected. Everywhere he looks, there’s dyed hair in a rainbow of shades, and Jaemin can count at least seven different people with white or silver hair. 

He settles for climbing up the hill just past the parking lot and waiting for Renjun to find him instead, after he’s done all his duties. His skates don’t exactly cooperate with the rocky portions of the slope, or the slope in general, but Jaemin manages alright, plopping down to sit with his arms wrapped around his knees. 

It takes a long time for the sirens to stop, so Jaemin thinks. 

He thinks about Renjun, and how his stupid crush has developed into genuine feelings and admiration for the boy he fell for. He thinks about everything he likes, everything he knows, everything he wants to know. 

There’s little things, like the small hums he makes when he sleeps that Jaemin wants to hear more of, and the cute expressions he makes when he tries to be funny but no one gets it. He’s endeared with the acerbic wits and silver tongue that only banter but never hurt, the soft hugs and cuddles when Renjun needs the affection he tries to ignore or when he knows Jaemin needs affection that he’s trying to ignore. 

Then there’s physical things he loves. The shape of his cheeks, the line of his body when he skates, elegant and controlled. He loves the piercing that drives him absolutely mad , and he loves the curves of his eyes, the slant of his eyebrows, the quirks of his lips, everything. He loves the strength under his skin, in the limbs that ought to be there that aren’t that make Renjun so, so insecure. 

He wants to know what mornings waking up together are like, what a candlelight dinner feels like, and how Renjun takes his drinks during exam season. He wants to soothe him through bad times and celebrate with him in good. They’re just in college so they’re still figuring themselves out, but Jaemin still wants to try. 

But mostly he likes Renjun, cliches be damned. 

People are starting to trickle back into the building at the other rink workers’ behest, and Jaemin is about to find them when a hand drops into his shoulder. 

“Hey, Jaemin?” Renjun asks, brushing a thumb over his neck as Jaemin turns to look up at him. “About that question I wanted to ask you—“ 

“Would you be my boyfriend?” Jaemin blurts before instantly slapping his hands over his mouth. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Renjun,” He wails behind his hands. “You were going to say something important, and now you probably hate me because I said dumb shit!” 

Unsurprisingly, Renjun throws back his hand and laughs. “Only you, Na Jaemin, would ask someone out by accident, on purpose, while they’re trying to ask you first.” 

Jaemin takes a second to gape. “Are you serious?” 

“Are you?” Renjun props his hands up on his hips. Jaemin hauls himself to his feet on shaky skates and grabs Renjun’s hand. 

“Hell yes!” 

“Then shut up and kiss me, boyfriend.” Renjun tugs him down by the lapels. 

“...do people even say things like that?” 

Chapter Text

Chenle tugged his uniform’s collar up and tried not to gag again, stuffing the fabric into his mouth like it would keep him from having to smell the scent pouring out of the alpha next to him. It felt like snorting a bottle of sriracha sauce, and Chenle was quite sure that if he had to deal with it any longer, flames would be coming out of his nostrils, around his cannula, any minute now. 

God, I hope he doesn’t give me a nose bleed. 

Their teacher was still droning on about how there was an urgent presentation due next week, but Chenle wasn’t listening to a lick about it because his highly motivated partner finished it all for him a while ago. They’d been assigned through hat-draws, but the moment Chenle met Jeno’s eyes across the room, his fears had been eased and his grade practically sang for joy.

Needless to say, having an absolute nerd for a best friend paid off sometimes. 

I wonder what Jisung’s doing… Chenle tapped his eraser on his cheek, nibbling on the end of it as he tried to ignore just how unhygienic that was. 

Maths class was so boring, so that meant Chenle got to think about other, more interesting things during it. It was only fair. 

And goodness gracious was Park Jisung an interesting thing to think about during the day. 

Flashes of electric blue hair, squishy cheeks. Crinkly eyes and a tie permanently wrapped around his neck instead of under his shirt collar. But...his exterior was like that of an orange, textured surface peeled away to reveal a tart personality. Sharp edges and angles to a face of soft lines and curves. 

In fifth grade, Chenle had tripped in front of Jisung during recess, his shoe coming off, cannula ripping away as the world started to move in slow motion; the ground, coming up fast. Just as he had braced himself for impact, an arm had shot out to catch him, grabbing under his armpits and hoisting him up like a sack of potatoes. 

Be careful, okay? Jisung’s eyes seemed to say, even as his mouth opened to yell at him for being so stupid and not watching where he was going. Chenle had replaced his oxygen, baffled, as he righted himself and brushed off his clothes. 

Back then, medium-sized Jisung had had the squishiest cheeks and the lankiest arms, although his personality had been as prickly as a cactus, impossible to break through the spines. Even so, he’d saved Chenle from at least a scraped knee, all while berating him over technicalities. 

Chenle now still missed that space between them that used to be sweeter, softer. Friendly, even, not the endless game of push, push, push, and pull, pull, pull. They used to be friends and not puzzles, open doors and open arms instead of iron gates surrounded by barbed wire. 

He supposed they rebuilt some of that along the way, although most of the time it was on tenuous terms and extremely thin ice. 

However, the alpha next to him was more distracting and pressing than the curious boy who resided 24/7 in his mind. 

“Do you mind?” Chenle hissed after a while, poking his seat partner with the eraser end of a pencil and scowling his hardest. 

The alpha in question turned to look at him with an equally annoyed scowl, eyebrows raised cockily.

 “Do you mind, little omega?” He drawled, smirking slightly as the oppressive pheromones increased just a little bit more, snaking up Chenle’s nose and making him cough on the spice. 

It stung like hell , but he still managed to hold his ground, posturing back with a wave of irritated candy floss that made his own eyes water from the strength of it. He was sick and tired of alpha bastards thinking they were better than everyone else, particularly people like him, who looked and smelled sweet but were far from that on the inside if need be. 

Despite the seemingly popular belief, being an omega meant being tough as nails. 

“Leave me the hell alone,” Chenle hissed, curling his lip in disdain. “Just because you have a knot doesn’t mean you have to be one.” 

His partner growled back, teeth bared, scent spiking, and oh no, Chenle’s head was starting to spin.

Stupid genetics. 

Their scents made a horrific mix, and the way they combined to coat the back of his throat was starting to make him nauseous from sheer sensitivity, and the bastard knew it too. Chenle could feel them increasing as his own scent shrunk back a bit because of the pressure, and while he logically knew his cannula was still delivering oxygen, it felt like he was suffocating anyway.  

Despite his weak attempt to push back against the dominating pheromones, little pinpricks of light were starting to appear in his vision anyway, and his head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, floating just a little bit off his neck. 

Right when he was about to raise a hand for proper intervention, a ball of paper hit him in the side of the head and cut through the wave of aggression with a spike of soothing pheromones that were achingly familiar. 

Hands shaking, he managed to uncrumple the note, inhaling as fast as his cramping lumps would allow the moment he recognized the messy-neat handwriting on it. Immediately, lavender blossoms bloomed up his nose, stifling the sriracha searing through his olfactory nerves. 

Unfortunately, while Jeno’s scent was ten thousand times more pleasant than the alpha’s, it was still a high concentration of smells, and Chenle was definitely still reeling. 

But it was easier to breathe Jeno’s scent, one he was familiar with, than one that smelt like snorting peppers, so he made do with what he had, twisting the tubes behind his ears absentmindedly while pretending he was actually listening to the instructions. 

Honestly, how their professor had missed the dominance stand-off was beyond him. 

Still, the bell could not have rung sooner, and Chenle took great pleasure in glaring at his seat partner up until the moment he was out the door, Jeno falling into step beside him. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize what he was doing sooner,” the other omega apologized sweetly, eyes crinkled up at the corners in worry like they always did. 

Chenle had always suspected that Jeno had always been a sweetheart, but he was also well aware of Jeno’s tendency to panic prematurely. Throughout the one-year spread of their friendship, he was pretty sure Jeno had tried to fix 100% of the problems that had arisen and had, unfortunately, actually succeeded at completing 90% of them, much to Chenle’s chagrin. 

BUT he had also never appreciated Jeno quite as much as he did in this particular moment, so he couldn’t really bitch about it. 

Even still…

“You meddle a lot, Jen, but I appreciate it.” He pulled a face at his friend, rolling his eyes insincerely, adjusting his oxygen tank’s backpack strap and shortening the handle of his rolling one. 

Jeno just laughed, nudging his shoulder before the stairwell came up that he'd have to use to switch classes. “It was nothing, Lele. Really. Maybe borrow my hoodie next time?” 

“Hm, maybe. I’ll think about it. Thanks, Jeno. Bye!” 

Once Jeno had swerved off down the hall, Chenle allowed himself to take another shaky breath and steady his legs, still trembling a bit from class. His lungs were tight, saturated with sriracha and lavender, but cleaning out slowly. The locker he was leaning against was solid, steadying, but his head still felt a little light, and he tightened his grasp on his backpack. 

“ What are you doing here today, little one?” 

Chenle opened the eyes he hadn’t even realized he’d closed to meet the mischievous brown eyes of Na Jaemin. 

“ Why do you care?” Chenle grumbled, mimicking Jaemin’s floaty tone and wincing when his cinnamon scent wafted into his nose. As irritating as he was, Jaemin wasn’t bad for an alpha, but right now, his scent was assaulting Chenle’s senses and that was not helping. 

So, he decided to posture back, letting his scent out a bit to wash over Jaemin as well. As expected, the older student retaliated with more of his own scent before backing off when Chenle winced ever so slightly, feeling the pulse in his temple. 

Curious, Chenle pushed it a little further, only for Jaemin to recede more, even as he stared at Chenle with that infuriatingly confident smirk and twinkling eyes. 

He was about to ask Jaemin what exactly he thought he was doing when another person cut into the conversation. 

“Leave him alone, hyung.” A hand came down on Jaemin’s shoulder from behind, and the alpha acquiesced easily, scent dissipating entirely as he stepped aside to let Jisung through, the very person Chenle had been thinking about just minutes prior. 

Startled, Chenle retracted his scent as well, wishing he could also retract himself into the locker. Persistent and curious or not, making himself seem like a pathetic fool in front of Jisung didn’t sound like it would lend itself to improving their friendship. 

Still, he stood his ground and waited as Jisung came closer, clearing out the air with his lack of scent as the dulling effect of suppressants took over the space, letting Chenle breathe well for the first time all day. 

It wasn’t often that he stumbled across students on suppressants at school, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t try to stick around them for as long as possible, and he found himself chasing after Jisung’s filtered air, leaning forwards rather than away from him. It was sort of like wearing wet socks when clean and dry ones were nearby; why stick with the nasty ones?

Although that quickly became an issue once he also realized that Jisung was now about five centimetres from him, their faces disconcertingly close. His reinvigorated attempt to backup and melt into the locker also didn’t work very well because his tank slammed against the metal door, but hey, he tried. 

He was debating if he should be the one to fill the space with words when Jisung took over for him. 

“Why are you in my way, Chenle?” Jisung grumbled, expression surly. Arms crossed, face stern, Jisung looked kind of like an unamused hamster, although Chenle wasn’t sure he’d appreciate the comparison. 

Wait. He didn’t appreciate the comparison; finding Jisung cute was not the point right now, Chenle’s brain! 

Feathers ruffled, Chenle just glared back at him. “I wasn’t aware the public hallway was yours , Jisung.” He also crossed his arms and stared defiantly back, trying not to tremble. God, what was wrong with him? He’d had a crush on Jisung for years, he’d learned how to deal with it, so why was it bothering him so much now? 

“Yeah,” an amused voice drawled next to them, breaking through the tension. “As fun as this is, I’m going to go. Have fun, kiddos.” Jaemin popped up over Jisung’s with another debilitating smile before winking playfully at Chenle before waltzing away down the hall. 

And then it was just the two of them, left standing in the hallway against the wall, one barely able to hold themself up and the other staring down at him with an indiscernible expression. 

“This is my locker, Chenle.” All of a sudden, the irritation slipped off Jisung’s face in an instant, like water sliding off a rooftop, his tone and posture softening. He looked tired, and incredibly young, all out of nowhere, and the suddenness of it all gave Chenle whiplash. 

“W-what?” 

“You’re leaning against my locker.” Jisung cocked his head to the side, slipping his fingers under his backpack strap. His hair flopped with the movement, falling gently across his eyes, but Jisung didn’t move to fix it. 

Chenle kind of wanted to fix it. 

“O-oh. Sorry.” Chenle moved to get out of his way, still reeling from the shock of the personality change, but his legs hadn’t quite caught up with him yet, and he pitched forward with a yelp. 

Jisung caught him with a small grunt, tucking him close to his body, and Chenle’s face burned red on impact. Which was only made worse when Jisung’s long fingers slipped under his chin and tilted his head up, looking directly into his eyes. 

“You’ve been crying.” 

“No…” 

For a moment, the whole hallway faded away, the sounds of classmates rushing to class and lockers slamming entirely disappeared, leaving Chenle and Jisung frozen in their little bubble. Stuck in Jisung’s arms, Chenle stood paralyzed as the younger boy, who was always yelling at him for something or other, swept a couple tears off his cheeks, tears he hadn’t even realized were falling. 

“Jisung…” 

“Let’s get to class. You’re going to make us late.” Just like that, the moment shattered, whatever it was that had passed between them slinking away as if ashamed it ever happened. 

Head reeling for an entirely different reason, Chenle only nodded along, walking with Jisung to chemistry, enveloped in pure, clean air. 

Being preoccupied in class was not out of the usual for Chenle because he was lucky enough to not have to pay full attention to know what was going on, but today was even worse than normal. His brain was refusing to focus on anything other than the boy seated at the lab bench across from him, scowling at his worksheet. 

He just couldn’t get the softness of Jisung’s fingertips out of his mind, nor the gentle lilt to his voice when he’d discovered Chenle’s tears. The way his hair had fallen into his eyes and the sweeter curve to his mouth had felt like living in an anime, in one of the moments that was meant to convey more than the main character could understand. 

He felt like that main character, lost and confused after a tender moment that made no sense, and the feeling only intensified the more he thought about it. They were pretty prone to being weirdly back-and-forth: Chenle pushing and pushing until Jisung snapped; Chenle being pushed and pushed until Jisung helped mend the snap. 

They’d been friends—or at least friendly— to each other three months ago when Jisung had given Chenle chocolates for his birthday, but when Chenle, surprised and thankful, sent Jisung his own for his birthday, he had received them back with a piece of paper full of expletives explaining why Chenle shouldn’t have done that. 

His eyes strayed away from his paper again, drifting to Jisung’s like they always did, as if he was a magnet, and the confused scrunch of Jisung’s nose and eyes only made his heart hurt a little more. 

The juxtaposition of their personalities was also pretty obvious: Jisung was sharp-tongued and unapologetic, where Chenle used more finesse to fight and was softer at first. He was sure their subgenders were a clashing mess as well, Chenle’s lack of omega tendencies putting off just about everyone. He was sure it would be the same with Jisung, who was probably an alpha, even though Chenle didn’t actually know that for sure because Jisung was always on blockers. 

They’d most likely never work out, not with how mean Jisung was to him all the time (it was clear he wasn’t interested), but it was always these anime moments that gave Chenle pause. He didn’t think it was a secret that he’d liked Jisung as something more than an acquaintance for a long time, but every time a casual, sweet thing happened, he was always cautious, so as to not break it. 

The war between his thoughts came back in full force, both sides of the tug-of-war rope tossing memories in his face, fast as lightning. 

Butterflies on the playground, orange slices, and sunshine. 

Sharp sticks, bleeding cuts, and neon yellow plasters. 

Loud shouts, dripping eyes, feelings hurt until they ached. 

A ball to the face, glasses to the floor, rubber marks plastered to his skin. 

A special Valentine’s Day card from a mysterious friend who wrote exactly like Jisung, thanking him for always being so forgiving and kind. 

Presenting in the middle of earth science, herded out by lanky arms and insistent words, one hand on his waist, the other between his shoulder blades. 

Two sweet, followed by two mean, over and over again until Chenle didn’t even know what he was still fighting for. Friendship, yes, but pain too? That didn’t make any sense, and he knew that. It didn’t make sense to chase after someone who was so fundamentally different from you, and certainly not someone who had only changed for the worse the longer they grew up. 

But giving up wasn’t really his strong suit, so, when the teacher announced that they could move around the classroom while they worked on the worksheet, Chenle scooped up his bags and went to go sit next to Jisung in the corner. 

“Can I sit here?” Chenle asked, plopping his things down anyway and swinging his way up onto the stool, minding the small length of tube that still trailed out of his shirt. 

“No.” Jisung looked up from the sheet to glare at him through his eyelashes, not even bothering to raise his head. 

“Why not? You were being so nice to me earlier.” 

It was almost relieving to hear the hostility in his voice again because that was something Chenle was used to. He could control it, push Jisung’s buttons until there were no more buttons to push, but he couldn’t control his own stupid heart when their roles were different, reversed. Chenle had no control over the softness, and he didn’t like it, so this, this was okay. 

He didn’t give up when he presented as something that would always challenge him, and he didn’t give up when all of his old friends left him because of it. Chenle certainly didn’t give up on going to school, even after he realized that scents were ten times as powerful for him. He was not going to give up on Jisung simply because he was a little prickly. 

“That was because you were being pathetic. I wanted you to get out of my way so we wouldn’t be late.” Jisung’s gaze slipped away from Chenle’s as he went back to the worksheet, filling in a few numbers in the formulas as he went. 

“That’s not very nice of you.” Chenle tried to keep his tone chirpy, but he could hear the hurt edge starting to creep into it, that stupid piece of himself that he couldn’t control when it came to Jisung. 

“I don’t care. I’m not nice.” 

“I don’t believe you,” Chenle goaded, deciding to push a little harder to hide his own feelings. This was what they did, and he so badly wanted something to go normal today. “I think you’re just hiding that part of you away and pretending to be tough so no one will hurt you.” 

Had it been anyone else, Chenle would already know how riled up they were. It would be evident in their scent, spiking, changing, doing something to convey his effect, but this was Jisung, and Jisung was on suppressants all the time. He had no scent to assault Chenle’s sensitive nose, no warnings as to when he had shoved enough. 

Maybe if he had, the conversation would have gone differently. 

Jisung’s head snapped up from the worksheet with a frighteningly loud crack, his eyes meeting Chenle’s, simmering with anger. 

“Shut the fuck up! You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, you stupid little omega, so just shut up! ” 

The moment the words were out of his mouth, Jisung froze, but the damage had already been done. Chenle could feel them sinking into his skin like needles, prickling under the surface and spearing him. Those three words, cutting the deepest. 

Stupid little omega. 

“Park Jisung, detention!” Their teacher yelled, but Chenle was already out the door, tears welling up in his eyes before he could stop them. 

Lunch was quiet that day, and the one after that, and even the one after that. Chenle nursed his emotional wounds and wore Jeno’s hoodie in maths class, and he avoided Jisung like the plague in chemistry. 

And so, time passed like that. 

Friday afternoon, after school, Chenle changed out of his uniform slowly, thoughts lost in the past. His shirt got caught on his tubes, and he had to take a deep-ish breath before taking it off to untangle it. Even the minute it took sapped his energy quite a bit, and Chenle needed more than a few moments with it back in to feel comfortable again. 

When they were in third grade, he and Jisung had been best friends. Their class had held a butterfly release party after their unit on metamorphosis, and they had raised caterpillars in their classrooms, all the way up until they came out of their chrysalises. 

Chenle’s butterfly had come out with only three wings, and it had struggled to even take flight. He could still remember sitting under the shade of the playground tree and watching the rest of his classmates release their butterflies out into the wild, a cloud of them rising into the air together, a mass of brown, white, orange, and black. 

His little butterfly had crawled all over his arms and all over the orange slice he’d brought, sucking up the sweet nectar inside, but it hadn’t been able to flutter away. So, it stuck to Chenle, and Chenle stuck to it. Little-him had been so sad when he’d found out his butterfly would have a hard life, but he’d promised it that they’d both fight together. He’d giggled right after when it had run all over his oxygen supply system like it was a playground. 

Jisung had found him later, an hour or so into the party, and sunk down next to him, smiling his wide, childish grin. He had laughed at the butterfly, which had crawled up into Chenle’s hair, and gently coaxed it out and back onto the orange slice.

They’d been too young then to have their own scents, but Jisung’s hair had smelt like his rosewater soap when he’d laid his head down on Chenle’s shoulder, holding up the other half of the orange as they watched the butterfly’s long tongue snake in and out of the fruit. 

Thinking back on it, Chenle couldn’t truly remember when Jisung gave up on him. He couldn’t really remember when their friendship disappeared, or when Jisung’s words had become harsh and unyielding. He was sure it wasn’t just one of their faults, although he couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment he started pressing Jisung’s buttons harder and harder, just to see how far he could push. 

He missed the times when they were little, when they knew everything about each other. He didn’t even know what Jisung presented as, for crying out loud, just as Jisung didn’t know that most scents made Chenle sick from sensitivity because of some old genetic condition he inherited on top of his shitty lungs. He didn’t know his favourite colour anymore, nor who his new best friend was (probably Jaemin), and it kind of hurt more than words could explain. 

Sighing to himself, Chenle collapsed back into his bed, now in his comfy clothes, and allowed his brain to be upset and gloomy. He was a teenager, anyway, it was his prerogative. 

The last thing he was expecting that day was a knock at the door and an insistent door-bell ring. He didn’t get much company after school, so he had to pause his sad, angsty music to listen closely again and confirm that yes, someone was indeed knocking at his door. 

Crawling out of bed was a lot harder than expected, and he was more than displeased to haul his tank’s cart with him down the stairs. Even still, Chenle was kind of curious who was at his door, but when he opened it to see Jisung’s face, he slammed it shut again, breath coming out heavier, already. 

He heard a sound that was suspiciously similar to a laugh, but when he opened the door again, finally composed, and saw the bouquet in Jisung’s hands, he slammed it shut again, clutching his heart. 

“You know,” came Jisung’s drawl, “I thought I was the rude one here.” 

Chenle’s first thought was: you don’t get to say anything to me right no w. But, he was weak, and he kind of wanted to hear what Jisung was going to say, so he opened the door and let him in. 

“Take your shoes off on the rug. My mum doesn’t like shoes in the house.” 

“I know. Asian family too, remember?” 

“Right.” 

After that, they both stood awkwardly in the foyer together, meeting eyes every so often but both unable to break the silence. Chenle, personally, was of the mindset that Jisung had screwed up the worst so therefore he was the one who needed to be apologizing first. 

Finally, after a while: “I brought you flowers! Jeno said you like them.” 

“Jeno is a liar.” 

“Oh…” 

Chenle watched, curiously, as Jisung’s expression went from hopeful to shot down in an instant, trying to pinpoint what it was that seemed so different about him. He could understand the veil of guilt that clung to him like a second skin, but there was something softer, sweeter lingering under it and all the hurtful words that had spilt between them. 

After a little more awkward silence and frowns, Chenle finally relented. 

“Okay, fine. I do like flowers, and they’re very pretty. Give them here, dumbass.” 

Chenle took the bouquet from a sheepish Jisung and tucked his nose into them, rocking back and forth a little bit as he smelt them. They were very sweet, but not overly so, a mix of tulips, roses, and little filler flowers, white and fluffy on their stems. 

“Did you want something else?” He crooked an eyebrow at Jisung, using the flowers to hide the smile that was starting to bloom. Jisung was kind of cute like this, like when he was younger, less sharp around the edges. 

“I’m...I’m sorry, Chenle,” Jisung murmured, after a little bit. 

“That’s a good start.” 

“I’m sorry, really.” Jisung shoved a hand through his hair. “God, why is this so hard?” He huffed under his breath. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t be an asshole all the time.” 

“Chenle…” Jisung glanced up at him with absolutely heartbroken eyes, hand still shoved into his hair, arm behind his head. “I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done to you. It’s really not fair.” 

Chenle just raised an eyebrow. 

“And...I’m really sorry for pushing you away when we were little. I didn’t know what to do. And I’m sorry I still suck, as you always tell me. I’m sorry I can’t express how I’m feeling normally.” Jisung’s cheeks puffed up as he sucked in a breath, and Chenle’s heart softened just a little bit more, again. 

“But, what I’m most sorry for is slandering your omega. That was the dickiest move ever, and I’m so sorry because if someone said that to me, I would be so upset. And I did it to you, as another omega. So...I’m sorry.”

The last apology was so rushed that Chenle had to take a moment to truly comprehend it, but when it sunk in, he was a little floored. 

“You’re an omega?” He whispered, breath catching on the words. It would make a lot of sense. Jisung’s whole family were alphas, the cool and suave type that didn’t give a fuck about anything else. They weren’t the type to flaunt their statuses or be cruel to others over it, but they’d always expressed their distaste for Jisung’s sweetness when they were younger…

“Yeah.” Just one word, but it was laced with hurt, resentment, and pain so thick and deep that Chenle wasn’t sure they’ve ever been able to unpack it all. “I’m an omega.” The wobble in his voice broke Chenle, and he yelped, dropping the flowers on the table before rushing to hug him, colliding with the force of a few suns. 

Once he was closer to Jisung, hugging him as he started to tremble, hands hovering just over Chenle’s back, he realized that the flowers weren’t the only thing emitting a floral scent. Jisung’s neck was devoid of the slight plasticy sheen it usually had, and Chenle found himself absently taking deeper sniffs the longer he hugged Jisung, trying to absorb his scent and imprint it in his mind. 

When Jisung’s arms finally wrapped around him, Chenle allowed himself to smile again, cheek pressed to Jisung’s shoulder. Such a seemingly random moment wouldn’t seem significant to anyone else, but the admittance meant a lot to Chenle. Not that he felt like Jisung was required to reveal his subgender to him or anything, but that he felt comfortable to say it to him. Hug him, even, and show up without his blocking patch. 

“Jisung?” 

“Hm?” 

“Thank you for apologizing. And thank you for telling me.” 

“You’re welcome, I guess.” Jisung pressed his head against Chenle’s, and he barely suppressed a giggle when the other omega not-so-subtly sniffed his hair. 

“You smell really good,” Chenle whispered quietly, adjusting his grip on Jisung and nuzzling his cheek in a little deeper. 

Jisung stiffened in his arms ever so slightly before slowly letting it back out, hugging Chenle a little tighter, back. 

“Thank you.” A pause. “I think you smell delicious.” 

Chenle burst into giggles, both mortified and pleasantly surprised, his sugary pheromones leaking out to convey his satisfaction, even as he whacked Jisung playfully on the back. 

“Pervert,” he teased, beaming at Jisung who just scowled back, his bright red blush belying his expression. 

“Yah! Don’t be ridiculous.” 

“You’re the one who said I smell 'delicious'!” 

“You’re just interpreting it weird!” 

“Well, you were being weird!” 

“Shut up!” 

When they’d finally calmed down enough to stop bickering needlessly and Chenle had put the flowers in a vase in his bedroom, they settled on the edge of his bed, just a little ways apart, hands even closer than their bodies. 

“So...is this just a truce?” Chenle picked at a stray thread on his comforter, a little too nervous to look Jisung in the eyes. His scent filled his nose with the sweetness of cherry blossoms and apple juice, but that didn’t mean Jisung’s personality had changed too. Maybe this was just guilt speaking, and nothing else would come out of this. 

“Huh?” 

“Are we just going to go back to being acquaintances, or is it something...more? Does this change anything?” 

“Don’t be stupid.” Jisung reached across the bed to grab Chenle’s hand, turning it over and stroking over the mole on the back of it before lacing their fingers together and squeezing tight. “I still hate you.” 

His eyes twinkled with mirth as he took hold of Chenle’s other hand, apples exploding into the air until it wasn’t just Chenle’s mind and heart that were full of Jisung, but his nose as well.  

Chapter Text

Hello, everyone,

After a lot of consideration, I decided to write this little post to end off these oneshots because I feel like I need to explain why the last prompt will be missing, and I wanted to thank everyone else for reading this work. I’m not sure I have the right words to express how I feel, but I’ll do my best to try.

For the final, incomplete chapter: I’ve tried to write the hide and seek oneshot for almost a year, and no matter how I angle it and try, I simply can’t click with the prompt. I hate the only idea I came up with, and I hate almost every paragraph I wrote trying to make it work, and I don’t want to end this with a story I’m not satisfied with. It pains me to announce that I’m ending this without truly finishing it because it feels like giving up, but I don’t think it’s fair to keep anyone waiting for something that probably won’t happen. Were it ever to click, I would definitely upload it here, but I don’t foresee that happening;; I’m sincerely sorry about that, Ashleigh.

That being said, having struggled with writing these for a long time but having enjoyed them just as much, it feels rather bittersweet to be letting go of the collection, but I simply can’t see it continuing. I started this when I was a baby fic writer, and while I have a lot to learn, I’m no longer her and I want to branch out and start focusing on writing more of my own things;;

And so, thank you to everyone who’s read this. Thank you so much to the ones who have left kudos, thank you to all the subscribers who keep coming back, and a very special thank you to everyone who commented such sweet things. All of you are the only reason this went on for as long as it did.

To the prompters: thank you for helping me broaden my horizons and develop my skills. It’s been a wonderful ride :)

Thank you all again, from the bottom of my heart, and please take care of yourselves, everyone.

Lots of love,

SDM <3