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[ENTER-TALK] What do you think of chaebol heirs?

There seems to be a lot of really handsome, really intelligent chaebol heirs these days… Am I wrong in thinking some of them are cute? The ones that live in Seoul mostly go to Seoul Academy of Arts or Seoul International School, but because they’re private schools, you have to have money or be really smart to go there. My friend goes to one of the schools on a scholarship, and she says that there are so many rich kids who go there ㅋㅋㅋㅋ Some aren’t that great at studying, but some definitely are. What do you think? Am I just being insane? ㅠㅠ

post response:

[+1,203, -302]

1. [+528, -132] Ah… One that comes to mind is Na Jaemin from CG Group, he’s crazily talented at anything he tries. I heard that he used to do speed skating and played piano competitively, but after an injury he’s just been dutifully focusing on his studies… He’s so freakin’ handsome too. I almost had a heart attack when I saw some photos of him and his family at some corporate event. No one knows for sure what he is, but wouldn’t it be perfect if he were an alpha? Even if he’s not, he’s the full package, seriously. Na Jaemin, if you ever see this, I wish I were your classmate too!

2. [+472, -128] What about WYH’s Lee Jeno?! I saw some of his pictures once from a volunteer event, and I think I almost fell in love… He’s not even the eldest child, but he’s already doing charity and volunteer work for animal shelters. There aren’t too many pictures of him since his family doesn’t seem to like doing publicity too much, but the ones that were released are so cute. He has a mole underneath his right eye, isn’t that just like some kind of animation character? I heard he’s also friends with MFL’s Lee Donghyuck, who’s also cute and talented. If my life were a drama, ah, I’d do anything to end up with him ㅋㅋㅋ

3. [+411, -103] Oh, he’s not an heir, but I see him a lot in the news now. It’s Kim Dongyoung, but I heard he goes by Doyoung now in SNU though! His family has worked closely with the Lees of WYH for a long time, so even if they’re not the CEOs, they kind of count. Don’t you remember? He made headlines last year for leading a student protest against the handling of assault cases on omegas because he felt that they weren’t being treated fairly. I’m an omega myself so I thought that was so kind of him to stand up for a cause like that ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ I heard he’s going to law school, too. Our country needs more lawyers like him, seriously. Ah, what to do? I’m going crazy, really. ㅠㅠㅠㅠ

Over the course of his lifetime, Jaemin has learned that there are only three constants in life: Yonsei’s eternal superiority over Korea University, the inevitability of death, and Chenle’s near-superhuman ability to give people around him a headache with everything he does and says.

Well, Jaemin amends. Maybe that last point doesn’t apply to everyone Chenle meets, but for him, it’s pretty damn true.

“Anyway, Jaemin-hyung,” Chenle says, mixing the kimchi and rice on his tray around and looking up at Jaemin with what Chenle’s convinced is an innocent expression, “Jisung wanted to know if you wanted to come to Everland with us next month.”

“Of course I do,” Jaemin says, mild. “As if I’d ever let you take him anywhere alone. Get me a ticket, I’m coming along.”

Chenle’s face falls, but it’s the kind of pout that Jaemin knows full well is as fake as his claims that he hasn’t tried to kiss Jisung yet. Jaemin’s not stupid, he knows a fellow liar when he sees one. “I already told him you wouldn’t be able to make it. You know. Because you’ll just be annoying the whole time.”

Renjun probably senses that Jaemin’s about to lunge over the table and grab Chenle by the collar, and Renjun’s already kicked Jaemin and his chair away from the desk so it’s harder for him to reach Chenle. Traitor. All he wanted was to demand that Chenle let him come with him or else he’s putting Jisung on house arrest for the foreseeable future.

“Guys, it’s the first week of school,” Renjun sighs, putting his carton of soy milk down on the table and leveling a stare at both of them. “Calm down. Shouldn’t you be studying for the entrance exam, Jaemin?”

Jaemin pretends to think about it. He doesn’t need to study since there’s a brand new library on Yonsei’s campus with an unsightly plaque with his father’s signature and an even more unsightly bust with his father’s face near the entrance, but it doesn’t hurt to keep up a front. “Ah, you’re right. I probably should, shouldn’t I?”

Renjun sighs again, louder this time, and he leans over to dig around in Jaemin’s desk, triumphantly pulling out a brand new, barely-touched textbook, with “CSAT Guide for All Subjects” and “98% Acceptance Rate!” written on it. “Jaemin, you’ve barely even opened the exam study guide the teachers gave us. Your sticky note is still on the second page. Right there. Come to the CSAT info session with me later this week, it’s Friday afternoon on campus in the auditorium here.”

Truth be told, Jaemin hasn’t even read a single word of it. He’d really meant to flip through the pages of the book, to get some vague notion of what the test was about, but then his hand had cramped, and he just ended up putting the sticky note on the page with the table of contents on it. He’s all but decided that he’s going to have fun in this last year of high school before he has to actually do work in university, so he’s already mentally checked out for this school year even though it’s only March. He has zero plans of going to the info session, but if he tells Renjun that, Renjun’s going to be on his ass for the next week about it. Jaemin settles for a bland and practiced smile, and Renjun rolls his eyes.

“Ah, the life of you sad, sad single men. You have to worry about entrance exams, while all I have to worry about is how far away Jisung’s school is from ours.” Chenle picks up his kimchi again before letting it fall down onto the table with a wet splat. “I’ll never have to study for this, thank god.”

“What, really? You’re going to have to take the entrance exam if you want to stay here. It’s not like Jisung’s going to move to China with you,” Jaemin scoffs, and when Chenle doesn’t respond, he looks up to see that a few grains of rice have fallen from Chenle’s mouth. “Uh, Zhong Chenle, you’re disgusting. Consider that a point against you if you’re ever seriously looking for my approval for Jisung’s hand in marriage.”

“I totally forgot he wasn’t going to be able to come back with me,” Chenle breathes out before relaxing. “Oh well, that’s okay. I’ll just work here, then. Enjoy being single and suffering over exams, hyungs.”

“I’m single by choice, asshole,” Jaemin hisses, and he and Renjun share a look, a collective understanding, before Jaemin grabs Chenle so Renjun can have an easier time getting him into a headlock. Chenle’s been getting overconfident as of late, and Jaemin’s aware that it’s probably Jisung’s influence on him leading him to start talking back more and more, but Chenle’s not wrong about one thing: Jaemin’s painfully single, and not necessarily completely of his own choice.

Jaemin isn’t going to lie. Being the only alpha son of South Korea’s nineteenth wealthiest chaebol has more perks than it does downsides, and he’s lived an astoundingly blessed life so far. There isn’t a lot that he’s ever had to want for, and his parents have done their best to give him a comfortable life. It’s their expectation that in return for the freedom they’ve given him to explore his own path, he’ll come back and take control of the family business once he’s old enough to succeed. Jaemin thinks that in another life, he could’ve been a professional athlete skating to a gold medal in the Winter Olympics, or a pianist playing for sold-out audiences across the globe, or even an actor or an idol or a model. This life, though— well, it could be worse.

The hallways of their corporate headquarters probably look imposing and intimidating to anyone who’s never been there before, but to Jaemin, they’re home, the same hallways he ran up and down when he was growing up, the same hallways that he walks through now, taller and broader but still the same boy inside.

He takes the elevator up to the fifteenth floor, twiddling his thumbs as he’s waiting, before he remembers that he has to text Renjun a quick apology for not being able to make it to the entrance exam info session. He’d really been meaning to go, but his father had left him a voicemail that said simply to “come by headquarters at half past three, there’s someone I want you to meet,” and Jaemin’s interest had immediately been piqued. Jaemin’s father isn’t one to call him for no reason, so there must be something going on. There’s nothing he likes more than a good surprise, and so early in the school year? It’s not even his birthday yet!

sorry renjun i cant come my dad wants smth idk what it is tho so can u take notes for me?? ty luv u xoxoxo Jaemin types out and sends, and when the elevator dings, Jaemin unceremoniously shoves his phone back in his pocket. The twentieth floor is the highest, consisting of only the most executive offices and conference rooms. When he crosses the hallway and knocks on the door of his father’s office, it isn’t his father’s secretary who answers the door. It’s his mother, and she tuts at him, smoothing his hair down and pulling his backpack off of his shoulders and straightening his clothes while he’s too shocked to do anything else.

“Mom,” Jaemin says once she’s satisfied with his appearance and steps away. “What are you doing here? What’s going on?”

There’s a small, secretive smile on her face that reminds him vaguely of the Mona Lisa’s, and she only presses her finger to her lips. “You’ll see. Come, they’re all waiting for you.”

Jaemin wordlessly follows her to the conference room at the end of the hallway, the one that he knows is only reserved for the most important guests, the ones they want to make billion-won business deals with, and the questions only start to add up in his brain, but he holds his tongue. There has to be a reason for this.

His mom keys in the code to unlock the door, and when it swings open, Jaemin steps through the entrance, his mom right behind him.

“Hi, Jaemin,” his dad says, beckoning at him to come closer, and their guests— three of them, there are three of them, and they’re facing away from him, but Jaemin can tell that there’s a boy his age sitting in between a man and a woman who must be his parents— turn around to look at Jaemin, and Jaemin’s heart almost leaps out of his chest when he sees who it is.

Their guests are Lee Jeno and his parents, the CEOs of WYH Corporations. As Jaemin rounds the table to sit at his dad’s side, Jeno lifts a hand to give Jaemin a tiny wave before he puts it back down, mollified by his own father’s stern gaze. Jaemin’s mom sits on the other side of Jaemin, and it feels completely unlike any other business talks Jaemin’s ever sat in on. For one, the setting feels too intimate, too comfortable, and there’s none of the usual tension that accompanies high-powered deals. They’re sitting strangely, too, with Jaemin and Jeno smack dab in the middle of the table while their fathers flank one side and their mothers flank the other, and Jaemin wonders if that was intentional.

It probably was. Nothing his parents ever do is unintentional, and they only prove him right when his father says, “Now that we’re all here, let’s cut straight to the chase here. Jaemin, you know WYH, right? You were at Jeno’s birthday last year, remember?”

Of course Jaemin remembers. They first met when they were eight, hiding behind their fathers’ legs at a meeting and refusing to come out to say hi to one another, but Jaemin doubts that Jeno remembers that. He’s been peripherally aware of Jeno’s existence ever since, all of Jeno’s charity and shelter work blips in his radar, and he especially remembers being at Jeno’s birthday last year. He’d tried to find Jeno, to try to catch up, but he’d been nowhere to be found. Jaemin isn’t still hung up on that. There’s no way he is. It’s been a year. Of course not. Jaemin’s father starts speaking again, jerking him very firmly back to reality.

“Well, it turns out your mother and Jeno’s mother actually went to Ewha together back in the day, and they were thinking that it would be nice to reconnect. Jeno’s father is also looking to expand WYH, and we could help him out with that as well. It wouldn’t be hard to coordinate a merger, especially now that we’re gaining in age. I want to retire soon, you know, live on a nice island with my retirement savings and not have to worry about when the stock market opens and closes.”

Jeno’s mother speaks up, folding her hands on the table. “Jeno’s never really wanted to go into business, and his sister just told us that she would rather go into academia instead, so it’s quite convenient for us that Jaemin wants to go into business. It’s really a big help to us, to know that our company will be in trusted hands. We’ve already arranged to have an apartment furnished halfway between Jeno’s and Jaemin’s schools just so they can get to know each other better. Of course, we’ll all be helping the two of you make the transition to your new lives, and for all of our sakes, I hope that this can work out.”

Jaemin isn’t following this conversation at all, and when he looks across the table, Jeno’s eyes have widened, and he’s alternating between giving his father and his mother indecipherable looks. Watching Jeno feels somewhat like watching a tennis match, and it’s only when Jeno looks at Jaemin with something akin to reluctant acceptance that realization finally starts to dawn on him. The words are there in the back of his mind, and the more he replays all of the small details that jumped out at him earlier— his mother being there for a business meeting, the way they and their parents were seated, the choices of words they used, so friendly and familiar— the more it starts to make sense to him. Jaemin can’t quite process it, though, until his mother claps her hands together, smiling widely.

“So, when is a good day for the wedding?”

The rest of the day passes by in a blur. Jaemin only vaguely remembers bits and pieces of the rest of the conversation, and by the time Jeno and his parents leave, the only thing that Jaemin really knows is that there’s going to be a summer wedding next year. He filters out the things he doesn’t want to know about— “We’ll have to figure out how to sell this to shareholders,” “As for heirs, there’s always adoption,” and “Will rut be an issue, because if so, he has his suppressants,” to name the most horrifying— and very carefully replaces them with revelations that won’t completely make him reevaluate his entire life.

“The time in between now and the wedding,” Jaemin’s mom says to him after the end of the negotiations, when they’re waiting in the lobby for their driver to pull up, “is just for the two of you to get to know one another better. They’ve agreed to set the two of you up in the empty penthouse Jeno’s sister would’ve moved into had she not decided to continue with attending graduate school down in Busan.”

“I’m moving out? What about school? And my friends?” Jaemin’s been taking this fairly calmly, but the thought of transferring schools so late in his academic career and having to find new friends sends a sharp spike of panic through him. As much as he gives them shit for various reasons, he’s come to consider Renjun and Chenle the brothers he’s never had. “Are you going to make me transfer schools, too?”

“Oh, no, of course not, sweetheart. We’ve seen pictures of the place, and we made sure that your school wouldn’t be more than five stations away from the apartment. We can have a driver pick you up and drop you off at school if you want, but we thought it might be better if you two could be independent together.” She draws him into a hug, and even though her head barely reaches his shoulders, he feels like he’s five again, when his mom’s hugs were all that he needed. “They’re good people, I swear. We wouldn’t have done this if they were anything but wonderful, Jaemin. The boy, Jeno— I think you’ll like him a lot.”

“Don’t worry, mom. I’m okay. I’ll let you know if anything happens, but I think this is going to be okay.” Jaemin hugs her even more tightly, resting his chin on the crown of her head, and thinks back to the small, tentative smile Jeno had given him as they stepped out of the building. If Jeno’s willing to try to make it work, then Jaemin is, too.

Of course, once he gets home with orders to “pack some clothes, let’s try to get you moved in by the end of the weekend,” he dashes upstairs to his room and throws himself onto his bed, pulling out his phone and pulling up his messages. The notification at the top is from Renjun, and there are fifty-one messages from him. Jaemin’s willing to bet his right kidney that at least half of them are variations of “fuck you, Na Jaemin,” and when he opens them up, he’s immediately proven right.

aw, did u miss me? sounds like u missed me a lot when i was gone!! Jaemin types out, and Renjun must’ve been on his phone already, because the next second, Jaemin’s phone is buzzing with an incoming call. “Your favorite charming multimillionaire here, how can I be of service to you today?”

“Hey, what’s going on? What happened with your dad? Are you okay?” Renjun’s clearly doing his best to ignore Jaemin’s usual introduction, but Jaemin has other plans. Renjun sounds curious to know what’s happening, and Jaemin’s going to make him work for the details.

“I’ll tell you later. Say, do you think I’d look better in white or black?” Jaemin asks, rolling over on the bed and staring up at the ceiling.

“Uh, what? White, but why?”

“For the wedding, dumbass,” Jaemin snorts, and he relishes the few quiet seconds that it takes Renjun to register just what he’d said.

“Whose wedding is this? Is this your cousin’s? I thought you said she just started dating some guy, like, a month ago. Isn’t this too early?”

“It’s not her wedding,” Jaemin starts, and he pauses for dramatic effect since he knows Renjun is hanging onto his every word. “It’s mine.”

A beat.

“Jaemin, that’s not funny. I’m hanging up. Good luck getting notes from someone else.”

“No, I’m serious! Renjun, don’t hang up, I’m serious.” Something in Jaemin’s voice must’ve changed, because Renjun’s still on the other end of the call. “It’s what my dad called me earlier for. Something to do with merging the companies, and how my mom and his mom were friends in university, and ugh. I don’t know. But yeah, your favorite single bachelor is now suddenly very not single anymore. ”

“Wait, stop. Stop talking. Whose mom? Who are you getting married to? Is it someone old? Someone crusty?” Renjun’s voice dips lower, barely a whisper.

“Lee Jeno,” Jaemin sighs, and Renjun shrieks. “You know? The cute one? I told you about how he volunteers at animal shelters and shit right?”

“Well, hey, it could definitely be worse. Look on the bright side. It could be Chenle,” Renjun says, his voice bright. His voice takes on a teasing lilt, and Jaemin can almost imagine the expression that’s taking over his face. “Oh my god, are you going to tell him about your crush on him? That you’ve loved him for fifty billion years?”

“Shut up,” Jaemin hisses into his phone, and he can hear Renjun’s answering cackle. “It’s not a crush, I’m just slightly interested in him. I think the work he does is fascinating. And it hasn’t been fifty billion years, it’s only been ten.”

“You know, if you were going to get married to anyone, I’m glad that it’s to someone like Lee Jeno. He doesn’t sound like someone who would try to make your life hell or anything, and even if you guys don’t end up falling in love or whatever, at least you guys can be good friends, right? Hey, listen. I know you were salty that he kinda ignored you for a little bit last year, but I’m sure that wasn’t even his fault.” Renjun’s voice is soft now, the way it always is when he’s trying to comfort Jaemin after a failed math exam or a loss in Overwatch. “Chin up, kid. No matter what happens, we’ll always be here for you.”

Jaemin drags an arm over his face. The fact that he’ll be married in a year’s time hadn’t quite sunk in yet, but hearing these words of support from Renjun is enough to hammer it home. Ugh, the domestic life. Ugh, being married. Ugh. At least he won’t be suffering alone. “Thanks, Renjun. What would I even do without you?”

“Die, probably.”

Jaemin laughs, the sound bubbling out of him and pushing away some of the anxiety that’s been building up in him. “You’re right. You’re my savior, Huang Renjun. Now, about the notes from the info session—”

The line goes dead.

Jaemin sighs, tossing his phone to the side.

Renjun hadn’t been completely off the mark earlier. Jaemin’s always thought Jeno was kind of cute, and he’s genuine in a way that makes him stand out from all of the other kids he knows. It’s manifested as a sort of attraction that never progressed to anything past what Renjun calls a “little puppy love affair,” and he’d really intended on trying to say hi to Jeno and to get his number at that MFL kid Lee Donghyuck’s birthday party last year. But Jeno hadn’t even been there, and he’d complained to Renjun all night about that. Here’s his chance to get closer to Jeno, but now, he doesn’t know if Jeno wants this at all, if Jeno’s only putting on a front for the sake of his family.

Jaemin’s nervous, and while he’s not particularly on board with being stuck with someone for the rest of his life because his parents said so, it really could be worse. He’s heard so much about chaebol heirs stuck in loveless marriages signed for the sake of money, and more often than not, they’re trapped in them, bound not only by their multibillion-won inheritances, but by the conventions surrounding the echelons of society they live in. He supposes that at least his parents had the decency to find a nice couple with a nice son with a nice inheritance and a nice personality for him.

Jeno’s smile— the way his nose scrunches up, the way his cheeks puff out, the way his eyes crinkle up into half moons— is just the icing on an already decent cake.

Jaemin sighs again, rolling over and plugging his phone into the charger and turning some music on, before he gets up to find a duffel bag. By the end of the weekend, his mom said. That gives him just two days left of being single, so he turns on some music and goes to pack his clothes. He hopes, for their sakes, that there are going to be two separate bedrooms.

It’s his mom who drops him off at a luxury apartment building in Gangnam on that Sunday morning, bright and early. She walks with him into the lobby after he’s dragged his suitcase and duffel bag out onto the sidewalk and adjusted his backpack on his shoulders, and there’s a receptionist waiting behind a desk for them. Jaemin doesn’t even need to introduce himself or his mother before the receptionist stands and bows to them.

“We’ve been expecting you, Mrs. Na, Mr. Na. The Lee family called to let us know you would be arriving today. There’s a private elevator for your apartment, please follow me.”

They’re led to a set of elevators, and the receptionist holds her key card to a monitor, and the elevator on the right opens. Once they’ve managed to get Jaemin’s suitcase and duffel bag into the elevator with them, the receptionist presses the button to close the door, and then they’re going, sailing smoothly higher and higher. At Jaemin’s quizzical stare, she explains, “The elevator on the left is for the apartments in the lower floors, while this elevator is reserved solely for your apartment. To have access to the top floor, you only need this key card, but there are separate keys required to gain access to the apartment itself. I have a set of key cards and keys ready for you.”

Jaemin’s throat is dry. “How many apartments are on the top floor?”

“Just one, sir. Yours.”

The elevator opens up into a foyer, a closed door in front of them, and the receptionist passes them a bulky envelope before she bows again, bidding them a good day before she steps back into the elevator and the doors close behind her. Jaemin opens the envelope, and there they are: a key card and a set of jingling keys. He tries the keys in the door until it clicks open, and he steps through into the apartment. He turns to give his mom a hug.

“Call us if you need anything, okay?” His mom kisses him on the cheek, and she laughs as he scrunches up his face. “Don’t worry about anything. I know Jeno’s parents, and they told me their boy was a little bit lonely. I’m sure you guys are going to get along just fine.”

“Mom,” Jaemin whines. “I’m not a baby anymore. I can handle myself.”

“Alright,” she acquiesces. Her gaze turns steely, hard, and Jaemin gulps. “Don’t break his heart, okay? They’ve told me that Jeno’s quite the sensitive kid. He wanted to bring his cats along, but he was afraid you wouldn’t like them, so be friendly. Don’t scare him off. You two take care of each other, alright?”

“I know, I know,” Jaemin says. “Hand on my heart. But why aren’t you afraid that he’ll break my heart?”

His mom snorts, but she pats his shoulder regardless. “Fine, tell me if he breaks your heart, and I suppose I’ll just run over to their place and demand that they explain just why my baby boy’s crying into a tub of ice cream.”

“Thanks, mom,” Jaemin simpers, and she pats his cheek one last time before turning back. He waves to her until the elevator doors close behind her, and then he rights himself, drags his suitcase and duffel bag through the door before he closes and locks the door. He leaves his stuff in the foyer, stepping into the apartment proper to begin exploring. It’s expansive, and he has no idea where to start.

The foyer opens up into a living room, and on one side of it are a dining room and a kitchen. There are two bedrooms on the other side of the living room, and when Jaemin opens the doors to take a peek inside, one of them’s already clearly occupied, a backpack that looks eerily similar to his own tossed haphazardly onto the bed and two suitcases standing up against the wall. There’s no one to be seen, but that’s obviously the room Jeno is using. He can see that there’s a shared balcony with doors opening into each of the bedrooms, and he wanders around a bit more before he finds the stairs.

He takes the stairs to the top floor, where there’s just a large master bedroom and a pair of sliding glass doors that open out onto a terrace. There’s a spot of blue just visible from where Jaemin’s standing, and he realizes that it must be the pool. He’s momentarily struck by how opulent, how lavish this space is, and he’s flooded with a sudden sense of gratitude for the family that gave up their daughter’s apartment for him. Well, Jaemin reasons. He’s going to be marrying into their family, he might as well get a nice apartment out of it.

He makes his way back to the foyer to grab his things, and he takes the unoccupied bedroom. It’s sparsely furnished, with just a bed, a desk, and a closet, but he supposes that it would’ve been a guest room had Jeno’s sister decided to take the apartment instead. He’ll have to ask his parents to bring over some furniture because otherwise, he’s going to need to go to IKEA to get a chair and a nightstand. He’s in the middle of unpacking his duffel bag when he hears the turn of a key in the lock, and he freezes.

It has to be Jeno, and Jaemin has no idea what to do. Renjun’s told Jaemin on multiple occasions that he’s an expert at talking, at getting himself out of sticky situations and turning on the charm, but honestly, it only works on people he’s not familiar with and won’t have to see again. If everything goes to plan, he’ll be stuck with Jeno for the rest of his life, and he needs to make a good impression. Jaemin stares down at the sleep shirts he’s been taking out of his duffel, and as the footsteps grow closer, he puts the clothes down and stands up, making his way to the door.

Jaemin takes a deep breath, then opens the door. Jeno is standing in front of him, a brightly colored box in his hands and a pensive expression on his face. Jaemin feels like there’s cotton in his throat and sandpaper in his mouth, and he knows he has a reputation at school for being a flirt, but none of his so-called skills are coming to him at the moment. Instead, he says, very eloquently, “Hey, Jeno.”

“Hi, Jaemin,” Jeno says, and when he smiles, Jaemin feels a very strange, but not unpleasant, lurching somewhere in his chest. He ignores it, pushes that thought to the back of his mind to watch Jeno shifting from side to side before holding the box out to Jaemin. “This is for you.”

“For me?” Jaemin wonders as he takes the box. It’s light in his hands, long and thin and tied with a ribbon, and when Jaemin shakes it, he can hear its contents shifting from side to side. “What is it?”

“Um, housewarming gift? And also for, uh. Congratulations. To us. Because...” Jeno doesn’t finish his sentence, and when Jaemin looks up from the box to Jeno, there’s a powder pink flush spreading across his cheeks. The second Jeno notices him staring, he flaps his hands at Jaemin. “Well, you already know! No, stop staring and just open it already!”

Jaemin leans against the wall, Jeno following his movement and stepping just a bit closer, and unties the ribbon. He tucks the ribbon into his pocket before taking the lid off of the box. It’s a set of twelve macarons, each one a different color. He recognizes the store these macarons are from— it’s a new place on Garosugil that Jaemin’s been meaning to try but never really got around to doing so. He can pick out salted caramel, passion fruit, rose, and earl grey just by looking at the colors, and he’s excited to try the others.

“I didn’t get you anything,” Jaemin says, apologetic, when he looks up. “Sorry, I should’ve brought you something too.”

Jeno shrugs, an easy motion. “That’s okay, I thought I should grab something since I had extra time this morning. I didn’t know what to get, so I just went back to this place that Donghyuck and I went to last week. And then I realized I didn’t know what flavors you liked, so I just asked them to give me their popular flavors. I hope that’s okay?”

“Oh, yeah, this is great, oh my god. I’ve been wanting to try this place, so thanks a lot, really.” Jaemin gets a sudden idea, one borne out of a desire to do something nice for Jeno in return. He starts walking towards the kitchen, setting the box of macarons onto the counter before turning back to Jeno, who’s followed him across the apartment. “Do you have any groceries? I can make us lunch later if you’re hungry. What are you feeling?”

Jeno bites his lower lip. “I don’t think we stocked the fridge up yet. I didn’t bring any real food over, though, so we can try to see if there are any grocery stores around here? I’m kind of awful at cooking, but I’ll do my best to help.”

Jaemin hums, running through recipes in his mind. Japchae and pajeon, maybe? Or spaghetti and fries if Jeno’s feeling something more western. “That’s alright. I’ll make sure you don’t burn this place down.” Jaemin pauses, mulling the next thought in his head over for a while before he decides to go for it. He’s been told that he’s single-minded to a fault, anyway, so there’s no harm in doing his absolute most to charm the hell out of Jeno. “I’ve got you, fiancé.”

Jeno makes a sound that sounds like he’s just choked on nothing but air, and he flushes again. “Thanks, Jaemin,” he mumbles, his fingers playing with the hem of his sleeves, and this first impression of his, Jaemin thinks, is pretty damn decent.

Chapter Text

[BREAKING] Two chaebol heirs seen out together?

CG Group’s Na Jaemin and WYH Corporation’s Lee Jeno were spotted together in Gangnam. They look so handsome together, and they’re only entering their third year of high school. ㅋㅋ It feels weird to be treating kids the same way as idols but even the media has picked up on this. No one has ever seen them out together before, though. Could they be friends or is this just another marketing strategy?

post response:

[+8,192, -1,098]

1. [+4637, -224] Wow... They’re not even idols but their aura really makes them seem like it. They’re so high class but only 18 still, how is this possible... I wish they were idols, they would attract muggles like me for sure ㅋㅋ

2. [+2987, -319] No, but what's with this sudden business article? They're cute but is this really newsworthy?

3. [+2860, -1726] ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ Ah but isn’t this just mediaplay for some new scheme their companies are cooking up?

They find a market about a ten minute walk from their apartment, and Jaemin meanders around the aisles, searching for ingredients to fill their kitchen up with, while Jeno trails behind him with a shopping cart. They’d decided on japchae and pajeon on the way there, and they have some side dishes and kimchi from when Jeno moved in yesterday and brought it to snack on. It’s not hard at all to find everything they need, and when they’re in line to pay for all of their ingredients, as well as some snacks and cookies Jeno tossed in, Jaemin puts a hand over Jeno’s when he tries to take his card out to pay.

“Hey, I’ll take care of it. You got the macarons already, remember?” Jaemin says, and Jeno’s lips purse before he backs down and resumes transferring the flour and green onions from their cart to the checkout counter. The total makes Jeno’s eyes widen, but Jaemin knows that it’s objectively nothing compared to how much Jeno’s family must’ve spent on the apartment, and he idly wonders how he’d managed to justify paying so much for macarons if he’s not even willing to pay this much for groceries.

The utensils and cookware are easy enough to find once they get back home. Jaemin’s arms ache from having to carry so many bags of groceries, but like hell he’s going to tell Jeno, who’s hovering at the edge of the kitchen like he’s worried he’ll break a pan just by stepping inside. Maybe pajeon will be enough for lunch, and they can save any leftovers for dinner. He voices this thought out loud to Jeno, and Jeno agrees. He’s had a big breakfast anyway, or so he says.

“Do you need any help?” Jeno asks, suddenly appearing at Jaemin’s shoulder as he tries to figure out how many servings he’s going to need to make. Jaemin pulls out a mixing bowl from above the sink and pushes the flour, soybean paste, and sugar over to Jeno.

“I have a recipe I wrote down from my grandma, can you measure these amounts out of each ingredient and put them in?” If Jeno can’t do even this, Jaemin is completely and utterly fucked for the rest of his life, but Jeno nods, reaching into a drawer for a measuring cup and washing it before he starts to measure a half cup of flour out into the bowl.

Jaemin watches him, but only peripherally. He heats the pan up on the stove before turning to wash and drain the green onions at the sink. Jeno’s right next to him, his hip occasionally bumping Jaemin’s, and the first time he does it, he knows it’s an accident, but the second? Jaemin’s not so sure. Jaemin bumps him back, just to check, and Jeno’s gaze darts to him for just a split second, but it’s enough to let him know that it was definitely on purpose.

“This is fun,” Jaemin announces to the air after he’s added the green onions to the pan with some oil. Jeno’s still diligently mixing the batter, and when Jaemin looks over, it’s about the right consistency. “Can I get some of that now?”

Jeno passes him the bowl, and he watches as Jaemin arranges the green onions into a rectangle and pours the batter over them. “How’d you learn to cook?”

“My grandma likes to cook whenever we visit her, and she thought that I should learn how to just in case.” Jaemin pats the batter down until it’s flat, using the spatula to keep the edges even. “I’m pretty glad she taught me now, otherwise we’d be pretty shit out of luck for lunch.”

“My mom tried to teach me, but I think I’m just bad at trying to cook on my own. I think she always wanted another daughter, since my sister’s the furthest you can get from a cook, but oh well.” Jeno smiles, a little bit lopsided. “Guess I hit the jackpot when I met you, huh?”

There’s no logical reason just hearing that from Jeno should be enough to make his heart skip a beat, but it does, and Jaemin’s concerned for his own health. He shifts to the side, letting Jeno get closer to him in front of the stove, and he holds the spatula out to Jeno. “Wanna try? I’ll get the sauce ready.”

Jeno tries. He tries, but the way he’s holding the spatula is going to either break the spatula in half or ruin the shape of the pajeon, and Jaemin doesn’t want either of those options to happen. Without really thinking about it, he steps closer, curling a hand around Jeno’s and fixing his grip, showing him the right way to flip the pajeon and then pat it down without cutting it in half.

“Just like this,” Jaemin says, and it’s only when Jeno shivers, full-bodied, that Jaemin realizes just how close he’s been standing to Jeno, just how close his lips are from Jeno’s ear. He nearly knocks the mixing bowl over with how quickly he scrambles away from Jeno in his haste to put as much distance between them as possible, which makes no sense to the rational part of his brain. Your wedding is in a year, that part of his brain helpfully reminds him. Things like this are nothing if you’re going to be married.

The rational part of Jaemin’s brain isn’t the one he likes. He prefers the dumb part, the one that’s still screeching about how soft Jeno’s hand was under his, how pretty and pale it was, and when he inches over again to present the completed sauce to Jeno, that’s all he can notice. He stares at Jeno’s hand curled around the handle of the spatula for what must be a good minute before he realizes that Jeno’s been calling his name for god knows how long now. Shit.

“Jaemin, I think it’s ready now?” Jeno says, uncertain, and Jaemin looks over his shoulder. The pajeon’s a crispy golden brown on both sides, and Jaemin claps, over-excited, before grabbing a plate from the drawers and sliding the pajeon down onto it. Jaemin motions for Jeno to take the box of macarons with him to the dining table, and he turns to pour them both some juice before bringing the glasses over.

It feels oddly domestic for the first time they’ve properly met as adults. Jeno’s sitting across from him, picking off pieces of the pajeon with his chopsticks and taking the occasional sip of juice, and Jaemin can’t help but marvel at the way that the eight-year old he’d met a decade ago has changed so much, yet not at all. He’s still a little shy, still a little quiet, but there’s a drive and determination in his gaze now that he’s clearly acquired over years of figuring out what it is he wants to do with his life.

Jeno looks up at him and grins, waving a piece of the pajeon around in the air. “It’s really good, Jaemin.”

Pajeon is a simple dish to make, but Jaemin thinks that this, especially sitting like this with Jeno and eating something they made together, might be better than any meal at any three-star Michelin restaurant that he’s ever been to.

The rest of the day passes by uneventfully because they’re both still unpacking, and Jaemin knocks on Jeno’s door when dinner rolls around to call him out. There’s no response, so Jaemin pushes the door open just slightly, and he peeks inside, trying to see if he’s ready for food. Jeno’s on his bed, his phone to his ear, and Jaemin can make out “Yeah, noona, I’m fine,” before he backs away as quickly as he can. He makes himself comfortable on the couch instead, scrolling through the channels until he finds something to watch that doesn’t look mind-numbingly boring. Jeno comes out a few minutes later, and Jaemin looks up to see him rubbing a hand over his tired eyes.

“Are you interested in a genuine leather handbag? It could be yours for the low, low price of five million won,” Jaemin says over the sound of the television, and Jeno grimaces as he sits down next to Jaemin.

“I’m not sure my sister needs any more bags,” Jeno says. He turns, fixes Jaemin with a curious look. “Are you done unpacking? If there’s not enough space, we can get another closet or drawer if you need. There’s an IKEA in Goyang, but I think the one in Anyang is closer.”

“Oh, I think I’m good for now, but I’ll need a chair for my desk. Can we go to IKEA tomorrow after school? I could probably call someone to pick us up if that’s okay with you.”

Jeno shifts, his expression turning a bit uncomfortable. “Tomorrow after school might not be such a good time. I have some tutoring and student council things to do.” At Jaemin’s astonished look— is he the student council president?— he waves his hands in front of his face, clearly trying to dispel any incorrect notions Jaemin might be thinking. “I’m just on an event planning committee, it’s nothing big.”

“Still impressive, though. I can just go steal a chair from my house or something, it’s no big deal then.” Jeno winces, clearly guilty, and Jaemin leans over to pat Jeno on the arm. “Hey, it’s alright, seriously. I’ll just go home and maybe bring back some rice or noodles or whatever if we’re going to be cooking a lot. Speaking of which, do you want to get dinner started?”

Despite Jeno’s objections to the contrary, he’s actually a fairly decent cook. He’s good at following instructions, and Jaemin guesses that if he’s failed before, it’s because he tries too hard at adding his own flair into his dishes. He’s also a little bit absent-minded, though, and while he’s stir-frying the japchae, Jaemin watches him wander around the kitchen with a spoon in his mouth for a good five minutes before speaking up.

“Jeno, is that the spoon I just used to mix the sauce?”

Jeno blinks, and he looks down at the spoon sticking out of his mouth like it’s the first time he’s ever seen it. “Oops,” he says, after taking it out and dumping it in the sink. “Sorry.”

They sit on the couch for dinner, the japchae on the plates in front of them on the coffee table and the box of macarons off to the side. Jaemin’s made some more pajeon from the leftover batter from lunch, and they eat in silence until Jeno speaks up, completely out of the blue.

“Jaemin, have you ever watched One Punch Man?” Jeno asks, and it’s a light question, but Jaemin can tell that there’s an undercurrent of something else, like it’s a test of some sort, and maybe it is, so Jaemin treads carefully.

“No, but I’ve heard of it.” That isn’t exactly a lie. He’s heard about it on internet forums and seen clips of it on Youtube, but he’s never really watched any of them. “Why, is it good?”

“It is so good,” Jeno breathes out, and Jaemin is at least ninety percent sure that he’s just passed the test, whatever it was. Jeno picks up his phone and fiddles with it before the television screen turns on to show the opening frame of what must be the first episode of this anime. “Let’s watch it together.”

Jaemin watches twenty-three minutes of a bald man beating up a bunch of animalistic creatures, and when Jeno goes to turn the television off after the episode’s ended, Jaemin stops him with a hand on Jeno’s wrist. Jaemin can’t explain why he’s done that, but he absolutely needs to know more about this bald guy. Of course, it doesn’t hurt to learn more about Jeno and what he likes.

“Let’s keep going.”

Jaemin is almost late to school the next morning. Renjun stares at him when he bursts into their classroom and takes his seat, and Jaemin knows he has a lot of explaining to do later. For now, though, he stares at the board as their homeroom teacher walks in and tries, desperately, not to think about anything that happened last night. Math is their first subject, and Jaemin’s never been happier to have such a boring distraction.

As expected, Renjun drags a neighboring desk over to Jaemin’s during lunch, and when Chenle bounces into their classroom with a lunchbox in his hands, Jaemin knows he’s going to have to dredge up every memory he can for their entertainment.

“So, future CEO of CG-WYH,” Renjun drawls, a deceptively sweet smile on his face, “tell us about your weekend.”

“Wait,” Chenle interrupts, abrupt and abnormally perceptive, his eyes darting to Jaemin. “CG-WYH? When did you guys merge? What’s going on, guys?”

Oh, shit. Jaemin’s completely forgotten that the only person he told was Renjun, and Renjun’s smile morphs into something that is decidedly not harmless at all.

“Yeah,” Renjun practically purrs, “just when did you guys decide on a merger anyway? Could it have been over the weekend? Last week? Or perhaps... Friday afternoon?”

Jaemin considers pulling out his CSAT exam booklet and throwing it at Renjun, but then he’d probably get sued by Renjun’s family for all that he’s worth, and it’s really, really not worth the trouble. “On Friday, my dad called me to the company building to tell me something. We met with representatives from WYH to discuss the possibility of a merger between our companies, and it was decided that I would probably inherit the company moving forward.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, though.” Chenle taps his chin, suddenly putting all of his brain cells to use when it’s gossip about Jaemin’s life, even though Jaemin’s sure that they haven’t seen the light of day during his entire academic career. “Why would WYH trust you, a completely random guy, with their company? CG is worth a lot, but you do know WYH is worth more than CG, right? I mean, no offense.”

Jaemin ignores that backhanded compliment and sighs, heavy and long-suffering, and he mentally braces himself for the cacophony of noises he knows are going to accompany his next words.

“Uh, yeah, of course I know that. That’s why I’m getting married to Jeno.”

Jaemin has his hands poised above his head, ready to clap his hands over his ears at a moment’s notice, but no sound comes out of Chenle’s mouth. He’s staring at Jaemin, his jaw slack and his mouth open, and Jaemin thinks that this is probably the first time ever that he’s seen Chenle at a loss for words. Maybe he should drop life-changing revelations more often.

“Wait. Wait, what the fuck? What? What? You better not be bullshitting me, I’m going to cry.”

“He’s telling the truth,” Renjun chirps, gleeful beyond reason, and Jaemin is even more convinced that throwing his textbook at Renjun is the right idea. “He even moved in with Jeno, our little baby is growing up. Say, how was it? Your first night together? I want a full play-by-play. Everything.”

Renjun wiggles his eyebrows, and Jaemin rolls his eyes before he remembers that oh, he was going to tell them all about it.

“Nothing even happened, so get your mind out of the damn gutter,” Jaemin says, and well. It’s time to dredge up the memories again. “But, uh. I moved in yesterday. And then we went to the grocery store to buy ingredients because there weren’t any in the fridge. And then we made pajeon and ate it together. Oh, yeah, he also bought me a box of macarons. Anyway, we unpacked after lunch and then we made japchae for dinner and he wanted me to watch some anime with him. So we did, and then—”

Jaemin stops.

“And then what?” Chenle presses, his eyes shining with anticipation.

He can see it clearly in his memory. They’d decided to marathon the rest of the first season (“Really? Are you sure? Don’t you have other things to do?” “Yeah, it’s not like I have anything else to do. Besides, I’m done unpacking, so I’m good for today, and I really want to know what Genos’ deal is.”) Jeno had started yawning a little bit after the eleventh episode, a little bit before midnight, and in the middle of the twelfth episode—

“He fell asleep on me.”

Jeno had been a comforting weight on Jaemin’s shoulder, and he’d stared straight ahead at the television screen, not even comprehending what was happening but not willing to move Jeno for fear of waking him. It had only been after the credits rolled that Jeno stirred, rubbing his eyes and staring straight up into Jaemin’s face. He’d leapt away from Jaemin after that, and—

“And then he said sorry for bothering me and using me as a pillow.”

They’d gone to bed after that, but it had been so incredibly difficult for Jaemin to sleep in a new bed, in a new room, in a new house. He’d gotten up early to—

“I made him a lunch box this morning, too. Rice and japchae and rolled egg. We had to take the subway to school because it would increase our bonding time or whatever, and that’s why I was late. Because I got lost trying to find the exit.” Jaemin buries his face in his hands. “Fuck.”

“You’re so whipped,” Renjun says, the awe in his voice readily apparent. “Shit, Jaemin, you really made him a lunch?”

“Not fair,” Chenle whines. “I wanted to watch anime with you before, but you told me to fuck off. Why does he get to watch it with you but I don’t?”

“It’s because Jeno’s his fiancé now, Chenle,” Renjun says, like he’s explaining a difficult concept to a five year old. “Jeno gets a lot of privileges that we normal humans don’t anymore.”

“Who would’ve thought. Na Jaemin, Mr. Entitled Jerk on the Outside and Softie on the Inside, of all people, is going to be the first one of us to get married. Oh, when’s the wedding again? Can I come? Can I be your best man?”

“No fucking way, Chenle. I’m going to be his best man. And it’s a summer wedding, can you believe that? Our Jaemin’s going to be so beautiful in white.”

Jaemin puts his face down onto the desk and closes his eyes. The wood is refreshingly cool, and if he just thinks about happier things, it’s easy to pretend that he’s not being interrogated. Still, he knows that if he doesn’t answer, Chenle’s going to pester it out of him anyway.

“I’m going to be wearing a suit, you dumbasses,” Jaemin mutters into the desk, and Renjun pats him on the head before speaking up again.

“We never said you weren’t. It’ll be a beautiful white suit with a floral print pocket square. White was always your color. Don’t worry, I’ll give you the best speech ever as your best man.”

Jaemin groans, and he does his very best to try to drown out their giggling, but it’s no use. All he can hear for the rest of the lunch period is Renjun’s and Chenle’s conversation about what they’re going to wear to the wedding, and now all he’s going to be able to think about for the next week is Chenle in a gummy bear print suit. Fuck. He’ll throw Chenle out if he comes dressed like that. No one at his wedding is going to be dressed less than impeccably.

Over the next few weeks, Jaemin learns more and more about Jeno. He learns that even though Jeno’s allergic to cats and dogs, he visits an animal shelter every weekend to volunteer. He learns that Jeno likes to dance, and that he met Jisung at the same dance studio Chenle had. In exchange he tells Jeno about his speed skating and his piano, and Jeno tells him that he’s never been ice skating before.

“Oh, let’s go together,” Jaemin says, offhanded. “I’ll teach you.”

“I’m going to trip and fall and die,” Jeno says, very seriously. “You’re going to have to take responsibility when that happens.”

It’s a testament to how practiced Jaemin is with his words that the next sentence that comes out of his mouth is completely unconscious, completely unbidden, and he regrets saying them as soon as they materialize in the air between them. “Don’t worry. I’ll be there to catch you.”

On a Friday afternoon after Jeno’s cleared out his schedule and Jaemin’s successfully prevented Renjun and Chenle from following him, Jaemin takes Jeno to the Lotte World Ice Rink. Jeno’s leg jiggles the entire car ride there, and Jaemin puts a hand on his knee, steadying until they arrive at the rink.

“Are these the same ones you wore when you competed?” Jeno asks, sitting down onto a bench and holding the pair of skates up as they’re changing out of their school shoes. They’re just the cheap rental skates, so Jaemin shakes his head.

“Nah, the skates we use for speed skating are different. They’re longer.” Jaemin finishes lacing his skates up, demonstrating with his hands spread apart how big the speed skates he used were. He can’t help adding, “Well, I don’t want to brag, but I had the expensive ones. That’s because I was a pro.”

(Jaemin does want to brag. He’s a dirty, dirty liar, and he wants to impress Jeno more than what is probably normal.)

Jeno’s eyes crinkle. “Oh, really? I thought skaters only turned pro after fifteen? Didn’t you say you stopped in middle school?”

Damn. How did he know? He’d been planning on Jeno not knowing the actual rules the International Skating Union put out for eligibility for pro skating events. It is extremely, extremely weird that Jeno knows this, unless he’s watched Kim Yuna at the Vancouver Winter Olympics like pretty much every other Korean person has. Never mind. That’s probably it.

“Got me there,” Jaemin admits. “Back then, I was probably good enough to go pro if I wanted, though.”

Jeno’s looking down at his feet, trying to put on his skates. “Why’d you stop?”

Jaemin’s breath catches, and he doesn’t think Jeno’s noticed at all, what with the way that his attention is focused entirely on trying to knot the laces. He’s gotten over what happened, and it’s been years since then, but there’s a phantom ache in his back sometimes, one that reminds him of the day he’d fallen on the rink. “I had an accident on the rink,” he says, succinctly enough that he hopes Jeno gets it, “so I stopped.”

Jeno looks up again, his eyes wide, and his voice is hushed when he says, “We don’t have to skate if you don’t want to.”

“It’s fine. It’s been, like, five years since it happened. I’m okay. Besides, as long as you’re not going to try to race me around the track, I think we’ll be good.” Jeno’s expression is still a little contrite, and Jaemin doesn’t know how to smooth the situation over. “As if a beginner like you could even try to match me in speed.”

“Well, okay. Whatever you say, Jaemin. But let me know if there’s anything that you don’t want to do, yeah?” Jeno’s focus is back on his skates, and Jaemin watches as his tongue darts out to lick at his lower lip. “Um.”

“Are you a child? Even eight year olds can do this?” Jaemin asks before he gets down onto the floor in front of Jeno. He sighs, reaching out for Jeno’s skate-clad foot. “Give me your foot, I’ll help you.”

“It’s not my fault,” Jeno whines, his voice teetering on the edge of petulance, but he sticks his foot out anyway. “I just don’t want to mess it up. What if I really end up tripping and falling and dying.”

“You’re not going to die. Trust me.” Jaemin crosses the laces, one over another, until he reaches the end and ties a butterfly knot. He stands up, offering Jeno his elbow, and Jeno takes it gratefully, slipping his hand into the crook of Jaemin’s elbow and standing up on unsteady legs. “Here, you’re done. Let’s go.”

Jaemin steps out into the rink first, spinning around a few times to get used to the feeling of being on the ice again. It’s been a long time since he’s been anywhere near a rink, partially because he hasn’t had the time or the chance to, but also partially because he’s had a mental block of sorts against ever going skating again. The diagnosis five years ago hadn’t been awful, but it hadn’t been great, either, and he’d turned in his skates the very next day.

He turns to face Jeno, who’s still clutching the side of the rink like a lifeline, his eyes shaking and his legs jellying. He looks like a fawn on its first legs, like everything he’s doing is completely new to him, and Jaemin supposes that that’s it. It’s adorable, if he’s going to be completely honest with himself, and he mentally thanks every deity out there that Renjun and Chenle aren’t here to witness his complete mental breakdown. He skates forward, arm outstretched.

“Take my hand,” Jaemin says, and Jeno takes a single step closer, and for a terrifying second, Jaemin sees Jeno about to fall facefirst onto the ice, but he rights himself in time to grab Jaemin’s hand. Jeno looks up at him, eyes wide. “Good job, you didn’t splat onto the ice.”

“Asshole,” Jeno snorts, and Jaemin heart leaps, because this is the first time Jeno’s treated him the same way Chenle and Renjun do, and it’s this level of friendliness that Jaemin’s been yearning for from him. “I did track and field, I’d be such an embarrassment to the team if I couldn’t even balance properly. Now shut up and let’s skate.”

Jaemin leads Jeno around the rink, skating in wide circles close to the edge so Jeno can reach out with his right hand for the wall if he feels like he’s about to fall. He almost does stumble a few times, but it’s his grip on Jaemin’s hand that keeps him upright. There aren’t too many people around, given the fact that it’s a weekday, but even if there had been more people there, Jaemin’s certain that he’d have eyes for one person and one person only.

They leave once Jeno’s feet start to hurt from the skates, and when they get home, the sky already dark, Jaemin dumps his backpack in his room, grabbing his homework and heading out to the living room. They’ve started spending less and less time in their rooms and more and more time in the common areas, doing their homework in the living room or eating at the kitchen counter. The only use Jaemin’s room sees nowadays is being used for sleeping and for changing, and he doesn’t have much of a problem with that.

Jeno meanders out of his room, already dressed in his pajamas, and he puts his textbooks on the table before flopping down onto the couch, laying his legs over Jaemin’s lap. Jaemin looks over, a bemused look on his face, and Jeno peers at him over the top of his glasses, and oh, when did he take his contacts off? It must’ve been just now. He thinks, idly, that he prefers Jeno like this.

He has a sudden thought that there’s something he’s forgotten to mention, but he pushes that to the back of his mind along with everything that he has to do for school next week. It’s like a lightbulb that refuses to light up, and Jaemin doesn’t want to expend any more mental energy on this. He’ll figure it out someday.

“My legs are sore. I’m gonna need you to take responsibility,” Jeno announces, and Jaemin grins, lopsided, at him.

“Yeah? How so? Isn’t getting married to you taking enough responsibility?”

“Oh my god, Jaemin, why are you like this,” Jeno says, and he reaches for the stack of his books. Thankfully, the one on top is a thin notebook, so when Jeno winds his arm back to pelt it at Jaemin, it’s easy to catch. He puts it back on the table next to his own textbooks, and he starts lightly massaging Jeno’s legs.

“I’m so proud of you, Jeno,” Jaemin croons, and he can practically feel the glare Jeno’s giving him. “You didn’t even fall down once. See? There was some tripping, but no falling or dying. Today was a big success.”

“Fuck off,” Jeno mumbles, and Jaemin switches to just patting Jeno’s calves, tapping out the rhythm of the opening of one of the other anime he’s just finished watching with Jeno. Something about high schoolers and superpowers? He can’t quite remember the name of it, but he’s sure that if he asked Jeno, he would know. And then promptly chastise Jaemin for forgetting. “I wouldn’t be so sore if it weren’t for you and your stupid ideas.”

“Hey, you were the one who said you’d never been skating. I was just fulfilling your wish,” Jaemin reminds him, gentle, and Jeno scrunches his nose up.

“You didn’t have to take me up on that and actually offer to go skating with me,” Jeno grumbles, but he’s tapping his fingers on the couch along to the same beat that Jaemin is. It’s during times like this, when Jeno is wearing his sleepwear and lounging next to him, that Jaemin can smell the faint scent of lavender around him. Jaemin’s always had an unusually sharp nose, and even though Jeno’s scent is light, Jaemin can still pick it up.

There’s a strange feeling of satisfaction, of victory, that courses through his veins whenever he does manage to smell lavender in the air. He knows that it only happens when Jeno’s pliant and relaxed, when Jeno’s let down his guard to show Jaemin who he is, and he relishes these moments.

“Oh, right. I forgot, Jaemin.” Jeno blinks owlishly at Jaemin, and he looks over, shaking himself out of his stupor.

“What’s up?”

“I was supposed to tell you this two weeks or ago or something, but I totally forgot. School and Donghyuck was being a lovesick fool since they’re coming up on their three hundredth day anniversary or whatever. But we’re gonna have to meet with my parents and some shareholders this Saturday.”

Oh no. Jaemin feels his throat turn to sandpaper again. This is why he always wants at least a few weeks’ notice before any event, because he wants to be prepared, and this is not letting him be prepared, especially to meet Jeno’s parents for the first time since that meeting in headquarters. “Uh, what for? And why?”

“It’s just because they want to clarify some details with the really important people before news of the merger goes public. It’ll just be normal stuff, you know. I’m sure you’re used to it. Black tie event and all that.” Jeno crosses and uncrosses his legs. “Oh, right, and also as an early birthday thing, I guess.”

Ah. Jaemin knew he’d forgotten something, but he just had no idea it was this big, and suddenly, the lightbulb in his brain lights up. Jeno’s birthday is on Monday.

Chapter Text

[TEENS STORIES] I’m a figure skater and I saw someone shocking ㅎㅎ

Does anyone remember that buzz from a month or so ago about those two chaebol heirs? Like I said in the title, I figure skate on the junior national team, and yesterday, I went to my local rink to skate for fun with my friends. I was just practicing when I saw some familiar faces ㅋㅋㅋ At first I thought it was just a funny coincidence, but I saw them again and they were Na Jaemin and Lee Jeno! They were holding hands and skating together… I know they’re just normal kids like the rest of us, but if they were really dating, I would be really happy. The way Na Jaemin looked at Lee Jeno… ㅠㅠㅠ My heart seriously fluttered… What do I do?

post response:

[+726, -75]

1. [+169, -10] I saw them there too! I think I came around the time that they were getting their skates on, and I saw Na Jaemin help tie Lee Jeno’s laces. It might be Lee Jeno’s first time skating, judging by the way he didn’t know how to tie them? And Na Jaemin is so experienced in skating… ㅋㅋ That’s so cute, it almost reminds me of a drama ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

2. [+101, -4] Wow, that’s so interesting ㅎㅎ I feel like we kind of watched them get together, too. Didn’t someone see them in Gangnam together as well? Maybe they really are dating.

3. [+96, -1] Cute ㅋㅋㅋ I think I even saw them at a grocery store looking for something to make for dinner when I was out shopping for my mom. I think they really are dating ㅋㅋ

The problem with Jeno is that he’s unfairly, disgustingly, and unreasonably attractive. Jaemin thinks Jeno is attractive at every single time point he can think of: when he’s wearing his school uniform with a backpack on his shoulders and panicking about being late for school, when he’s stumbling out of his bedroom at three in the morning with just shorts and a t-shirt on to go use the bathroom, and even when he’s flopped out on the couch watching anime with a bag of chips in his lap.

But this, Jaemin thinks as Jeno waves at him from the front door of his house, this is torture.

The plan was this: they’d get ready at their own homes, and then Jaemin would come over to Jeno’s to pick him up and take them both to the hotel where the conference is taking place. Jeno’s assured Jaemin that they won’t have to do any talking, and all Jaemin really has to do is to “stand there and look pretty.”

Well. Jaemin doesn’t foresee having a lot of trouble with that particular part of tonight. It’s just that he hasn’t really considered what Jeno, already illegally attractive in his own right when he’s not doing anything at all, would look like when he’s trying to look good. Jaemin opens the backseat door for Jeno to climb in next to him, and he does, sliding onto the seat next to Jaemin and buckling his seat belt before turning to look at Jaemin.

“You look good,” Jeno remarks, scooting closer, and it takes every single muscle cell in Jaemin’s body not to flinch and throw the car door open and run away screaming for his life.

Because the truth of the matter is that Jeno, for lack of a better term, is hot. His hair is swept up and styled for once in his entire life, and it’s a bit difficult to tell when the sky is darkening so quickly around them, but he thinks that Jeno might’ve actually put in a color contact— his right eye looks just slightly lighter in color than his left does. He’s wearing a suit, one that’s clearly been expertly tailored to hug the curves of his body, and just for a splash of color, he has a patterned pocket square peeking out of his suit jacket. Jaemin might need a paper bag, he’s so close to hyperventilating, and oh god is that cologne Jaemin smells on Jeno? It’s not his usual flowery scent, clean and calming. Instead, he smells like something expensive, something to covet, and now Jaemin might actually be hyperventilating.

“Are you okay?” Jeno asks, leaning forward and brushing the back of his hand against Jaemin’s forehead, and Jaemin nods mutely. He pulls back, his eyebrows furrowed. “You don’t— well, I guess if you say so. I really like what you did with your hair today. When it’s up like that. It looks really good on you.”

He mimes a sweeping motion with his hands, clearly trying to describe Jaemin’s own hairstyle to him, and all he can say is, “You too.”

Jeno smiles. He’s been doing that a lot more as of late, that smile where his eyes become little crescent moons, and Jaemin hates it and loves it at the same time, and Jeno turns to look out of the window. When the coast is clear, when Jeno’s looking away and can’t see Jaemin looking at him, Jaemin turns to study Jeno’s profile. Not for the first time, he wonders just how a simple infatuation, a simple crush from years ago, turned into this, this entire situation where he can’t look at Jeno without his palms getting sweaty and his heartbeat thudding like a drumbeat under his skin.

Jaemin thinks he might have caught a case of the feelings.

When they arrive at the venue, he sticks close to Jeno’s side, following him as he expertly weaves through the hallways to find his parents, and there they are, standing in the middle of the conference room amidst a large crowd. Jaemin makes to leave, but Jeno’s hand finds his wrist, circles it, and he twines their fingers together. Jeno’s hand is in his, every bit as soft as Jaemin remembers it being during their skating trip.

“Hi mom, hi dad,” Jeno greets, waving the hand that isn’t linked to Jaemin’s, and Jaemin greets them as well, bowing to them instead of waving.

“You can just call us auntie and uncle,” Jeno’s mom says, her eyes crinkling, and ah, that must be where Jeno got his smile from. “You’re part of the family now, Jaemin.”

“Mom, stop being embarrassing,” Jeno whines, his voice going high at the end. “Can we leave now?”

“Just walk around a bit, let the cameras see you two together, but there’s a small indoor garden if you get bored. Your mom and I can handle the rest,” Jeno’s dad says. “Take care.”

Jeno nods, a quick and sharp motion, before dragging Jaemin out of the crowd. Jaemin spots some cameras in the throng, and when he sees them turn to face him and Jeno, he makes sure to wink at them. He hopes they got some good pictures of him. The indoor garden isn’t as small as Jaemin had been imagining, and it’s situated off to the side of the lobby area, carefully groomed hedges and trailing vines filling the space. There’s a bench in the middle of the room, rosebushes clumped around three sides of it, and Jeno is still holding Jaemin’s hand when he leads them both to sit down.

“You think they’re going to go public with the news?” Jaemin asks, testing the waters, and Jeno blinks at him before looking at a particularly well-sculpted statuette of a cat playing amongst the flowers.

“Ah, I guess so?” Jeno hums, thoughtful, and Jaemin follows his gaze. That is a pretty cute cat. “Didn’t they say they were planning on making the news of the merger public soon?”

“No, not that,” Jaemin amends, and he feels Jeno’s eyes snap to him. He turns to meet Jeno’s gaze. “I mean us. This entire thing, this news about us.”

“What do you want them to do?” Jeno asks, and there it is again, that same tone of voice Jeno uses when he’s testing Jaemin, when he’s searching for an answer buried in the words Jaemin says, and Jaemin knows there’s only one answer he could possibly say to this.

“I don’t think I’d mind at all,” Jaemin says, truthful, and Jeno beams at him and squeezes his hand, and Jaemin—

Well, he’s on top of the world right now.

When they get back to their apartment, Jeno disappears into the bathroom to shower and to change into more comfortable clothes. Jaemin flops onto the couch, wrinkling his suit, and pulls out his phone to check his notifications. He has two missed calls and a voicemail from an unknown number, and there’s also an email from [email protected] in his inbox.

He decides to check the voicemail from the unknown number first, and it’s a voice he’s heard only sparingly in the past.

“Hey, is this Jaemin? God, I hope so, because otherwise, Jeno has a lot of explaining to do. I don’t know if you remember me or not, but I’m Donghyuck, Jeno’s friend. Anyway, I hope you know that Monday’s Jeno’s birthday, so a friend and I are planning on taking him to Everland. I think it’d be nice if you came along, so just let me know, yeah? I’m pretty sure you can pay for your own ticket, but we’re coming over and kidnapping him around ten. Just wanted to give you a heads up. Text me if you’re planning on coming along.”

Jaemin checks the email next, and it says pretty much the same thing. There’s only really one thing to do in this situation, and it’s to save Donghyuck’s number as “Slightly Belligerent Lee Donghyuck” and text him that he’ll be coming along and that he can help pitch in for gas. Donghyuck’s reply comes in mere seconds— ok i’ll save you a seat, make sure he gets his ass out of bed on time thx and don’t tell him about this or i’ll end you myself!

The bathroom door opens, and Jaemin looks up to see Jeno rubbing his hair dry with a towel. Gone is the Jeno from tonight, all sharp angles and tailored suits. This Jeno is the one that Jaemin’s used to, the one whose hair curls just slightly at the ends when wet, the one who wears pajama pants with cats on them, the one that Jaemin’s most definitely fallen a little bit in love with.

“What are you up to?” Jeno asks, padding over to the couch, and Jaemin pulls up some of his other Kakao chats before Jeno sits down next to him. Donghyuck had said that if Jeno somehow figures out what’s going on tomorrow, he’ll end Jaemin himself, and Jaemin’s only really seen Donghyuck in person once, but that’s enough to know that the smallest people are often the most terrifying.

“Just talking to some friends.” Jaemin makes a show of nonchalantly closing out of the chats and dumps his phone on the table before grabbing the towel and rubbing Jeno’s hair with it. “I’m gonna go shower now, so let’s watch a few more episodes of that cooking anime before sleeping, yeah?”

Jaemin doesn’t even remember falling asleep that night after showering. He remembers coming back to their couch and putting his feet up on the table, remembers Jeno curling a hand into his hair and whispering that he smells like roses, remembers turning on the next episode on their list as Jeno curls up closer to him, remembers Jeno turning to him and saying “Why do you always have your mouth open while we watch anime?” before putting his hand underneath Jaemin’s jaw to close his mouth for him. But that’s all he remembers, and the next time he opens his eyes, it’s to a room illuminated by sunlight and Jeno sprawled out across his lap, his cheek smushed against Jaemin’s thigh and his hair mussed every which way.

Jaemin lets himself bask in the moment, lets himself run a hand through Jeno’s now-dry hair, before he remembers just what’s supposed to happen later. Shit. Everland.

“Jeno, wake up,” Jaemin whispers, patting Jeno’s cheek. He stirs, but doesn’t wake. “Hey, Jeno.”

“Mm, what? What’s going on?” Jeno asks, rubbing at his eyes before his hands end up just bumping his glasses instead. “What time is it?”

“It’s,” and Jaemin fishes around in the couch cushions for his phone, “a quarter past nine.”

Thank god. He’s still early. Donghyuck won’t kill him. When he looks back down again, though, Jeno’s already gone back to sleep, fingers curling into Jaemin’s shorts, and Jaemin groans. “Jeno, get up, you lazyass.”

“Noooo,” Jeno whines, his eyes still shut tight. “I wanna sleep more.”

Jaemin stares down at Jeno and tries to rack his brain for an excuse. He can’t just tell Jeno that Donghyuck’s taking him to Everland for his birthday, but what else, short of getting him a cat, would be enough to wake him up? The promise of a new anime season? Tickets to see his favorite artist in person? Or— food?

“I’ll make you breakfast,” Jaemin says because he’s not above bribery. “An omelette, however you want it, with whatever you want in it.”

Jeno cracks his eyes open, staring up at Jaemin. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Jaemin sighs, moving Jeno off of his thighs and onto the cushions before he stands up. “I’ll brush up first, but when I come back, you better be up off of the couch.”

Jeno only gives him a half-hearted wave from the couch as he makes his way to his room to grab a change of clothes, and he spends longer than he really wants to admit just staring at his closet and wondering what he should wear. He decides, then, that whatever he blindly reaches into his closet and pulls out is what Jeno gets to see him in, and it’s only by the mercy of some higher being that the outfit ends up being a decent one. When he gets out of the bathroom, tugging at his jeans, Jeno’s waiting by the door with his clothes in his arms.

“Took you long enough,” Jeno mutters under his breath, and Jaemin snorts.

Jaemin is in the middle of prepping the omelette ingredients (“ham, mushroom, and cheese please”), when his phone lights up with a notification. He leans over to read the message, and he very nearly drops the knife in the sink. this is donghyuck can you come get me sorry i came early but my bf is impatient, the message reads, and Jaemin sets the knife down on the counter, completely aware that Jeno takes forever to get ready in the morning primarily because he has a tendency to fall asleep on the toilet, and grabs his key card and dashes downstairs.

“Swanky place you got here,” is the first thing Donghyuck says when Jaemin steps out of the elevator, and he holds it open so Donghyuck and his boyfriend can step inside before he presses the button to close the door. “You already know me. This is Mark. He’s the boyfriend. And also the designated driver.”

“Hey, I’m Jaemin. I’m, uh. The fiancé,” Jaemin says, reaching out to shake Donghyuck’s, then Mark’s hands. “You’re here early.”

“Yeah, traffic was better than we expected,” Donghyuck says, easily, lightly. “Oh, damn, we’re here already? Your elevator’s fast.”

“Not having any other floors to stop on will do that, I guess.” Jaemin pushes the door open, letting Mark and Donghyuck go inside, toeing off their shoes and leaving their bags in the foyer. “Jeno’s still getting ready, I think. I gotta go make breakfast for us, though, so feel free to do whatever.”

“Damn, really swanky place you got here.” Donghyuck whistles, low, as they round the corner and move into the living room. “Your foyer is probably bigger than Mark’s entire apartment is.”

“Oh, for real?” Jaemin’s already gone back to chopping up the mushrooms, and he’s about to ask where Mark goes to when the bathroom door swings open and all hell breaks loose.

“Happy early fucking birthday!” Donghyuck screams at the same time that Jeno leaps backwards into the bathroom, yelling, “How did you get in my fucking house?”

“Jaemin let us in,” Donghyuck says simply, and he grabs Jeno by the arms, frogmarching him over to where Mark is. “Say hi. I know you missed him and his crusty ass.”

Jeno wrenches himself out of Donghyuck’s grip to launch himself at Mark, giving him a big hug. “I missed you so much! How’ve you been?”

“I’m dying. Research is killing me,” Mark sighs, putting his hands over his face, and Jeno pats him on the arm before meandering over to Jaemin, resting his chin on Jaemin’s shoulder. Jaemin’s moved on to prepping the eggs, and Jeno curls his hands around Jaemin’s arm.

“Why did you let them in? Are you going to feed me? Please feed me, I’m hungry.”

“Because they said they were going to kidnap you. And stir fry the mushrooms and ham yourself, you’re not a baby,” Jaemin says, and Jeno sticks his tongue out at Jaemin before doing exactly what Jaemin’s told him to do.

“Wow, so domestic, oh my god. It’s like you’ve been married for twenty years,” Donghyuck remarks from somewhere on the couch, and Mark laughs at that, clapping his hands together.

“Shut the fuck up, you lentil bean,” Jeno shoots back, and Jaemin has never, ever seen this side of Jeno before, the one that only comes out around Donghyuck. “Oh, I think I’m done. Can you put the eggs in now?”

They end up splitting the omelette because Jeno’s not as hungry as he thought he was, and by the time they’re done eating it straight out of the pan, Donghyuck’s already made himself at home on the couch, sprawled over the length of it and flipping through the channels on the television.

“Get off my fucking couch,” Jeno says, standing over Donghyuck and prodding him with his socked foot, and Donghyuck stares at Jeno’s foot for a second before he grabs Jeno’s ankle and yanks, making Jeno lose his balance and fall bodily, with all the grace of a beached whale, onto Donghyuck.

“Guys,” Mark says, rubbing his temples before rushing over to stop Jeno from clawing Donghyuck’s eyes out. Donghyuck’s already gotten his hands around Jeno in a clear attempt to pull him closer to kiss him. “It’s literally way too early for this. Please, I haven’t even had caffeine yet.”

“Then perish,” Donghyuck says, sweet, as Jeno’s dragged off of Donghyuck and Donghyuck’s hands are peeled from Jeno’s neck. “I told you we could’ve stopped by Paris Baguette on the way because I know you always get pissy when you don’t have coffee, but nooo, you just had to obey traffic laws and not make an illegal U-turn. Typical.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Please, forgive me for not wanting to get ticketed. Listen, do you know how much a fine for an illegal U-turn is? And what if I can’t pay off my student loans? What if I have to resort to shady and underhanded means to get the money I need to for school?”

“Lee Donghyuck, I’m going to end your entire life right now,” Jeno threatens, stepping forward with nothing but the remote control in his hands, and Jaemin grabs him by the arms, dragging him back.

“Uh,” Jaemin says, holding Jeno back from committing first-degree murder, which would be bad for all parties involved, and Jaemin’s not sure if they’ll be able to recover from that. “Can we go now?”

All things considered, the ride to Everland is good— then again, Jaemin’s only criterion for gauging the success of the trip is that no one dies during the forty minutes or so that it takes to get from Gangnam to Everland. They get Mark coffee and Donghyuck a pastry on the way there, and Jaemin’s pretty sure that he catches Mark laying his hand on top of Donghyuck’s on the passenger seat armrest more than once.

As agreed on, Jaemin ends up paying for both his and Jeno’s tickets, and as soon as they’re inside the park, Donghyuck leans forward, quick as a whip, to give Jeno a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss on the cheek. “Happy birthday, asshole,” Donghyuck chirps. “Enjoy your date!”

They watch Donghyuck and Mark disappear into the distance, and when Jeno moves closer to Jaemin, Jaemin’s breath catches before he realizes that he’s only grabbing a tissue from Jaemin’s backpack to wipe the saliva from Donghyuck’s kiss off of his cheek. “God, I hate it when he does that.”

Would you hate it if I did it? Jaemin thinks, the thought appearing in the forefront of his mind completely unbidden, and he shoos the thought away as quickly as it had appeared. “Well, let’s go, then. It would suck to come all the way here and not do anything.”

“Let’s go to ZooTopia first then,” Jeno says, and he takes Jaemin’s hand. “I want to go on the safari bus ride.”

They stop by the petting zoo on the way there, and Jeno pulls a small bottle of pills and his water bottle from his backpack when they’re let inside. “Allergies,” Jeno says to Jaemin as he takes a gulp of water and downs a pill. “For furry things. Alrighty, time to touch the furry things.”

Jaemin tries to pet a goat, but it spits in his face when he gets close enough to stroke its beard. Jeno laughs and laughs, and he takes a picture or ten of Jaemin kneeling on the hay and trying to wipe the spit off of his mouth.

“Was that just an indirect kiss with the goat?” Jaemin asks, already mentally despairing, and he knows Jeno can see it written all over his face, because Jeno keels over in laughter. “Oh my god, I just kissed a goat.”

“Don’t worry,” Jeno tells him, sympathetic and kind, kneeling down next to him once his laughter’s subsided, and he lays a reassuring hand on Jaemin’s arm. “It could be worse. It could have kissed you.”

Jaemin groans. “Can we see the cute animals instead? I thought we were going to be playing with cats and dogs and rabbits.”

“Come on, get up. You’re probably too big to fit on a pony since those are for kids, but maybe they’ll let us feed them carrots.” Jeno grabs Jaemin’s arms, dragging him up out of his pity corner and to where the other animals are. They’re selling bags of baby carrots for five thousand won each, and Jeno picks up a bag for himself before dumping half of the carrots into Jaemin’s hand.

“Can I eat this?” Jaemin wonders, staring at the carrots before picking one up and tossing it in his mouth. It’s edible enough, and crunchier than he’d been expecting. “Hmm. Most expensive baby carrot I’ve ever had.”

“Untrue,” Jeno says, preoccupied with letting a lamb eat from his hand. “Remember that one appetizer at the dinner party yesterday? Dad told me each seat was, like, five hundred thousand won for the entire meal. Ridiculous.”

Jaemin contemplates the point Jeno’s made. “You’re right,” Jaemin concedes before joining Jeno, who’s wandered off to go feed the ponies. “But those were some delicious carrots.”

The carrots eventually run out, and Jaemin gives the goat that spat on him earlier a pat on the head when he walks out. He’s going to have nightmares about those rectangular pupils for days after this, and he might as well just end his interaction with them on a somewhat decent note. They wait in the line for the Amazon Express for an entire thirty minutes, five of which are spent arguing with Jeno about which villain in the anime they’ve watched together is the best one and twenty-five of which are spent trying to get as much information about Donghyuck and Mark out of Jeno as he can.

“— So Donghyuck was being a miserable little dipshit for, like, an entire week, so I decided to come over and, you know, just cheer him up. And then he ended up proposing to me with a ring made out of a ribbon, so I guess you’re my fiancé number two. Sorry,” Jeno says. “If it’s any consolation at all, you’re taller than he is.”

“Cuter, too, I hope? Should I be worried?” Jaemin tries, and he bats his eyelashes at Jeno, who only scrunches his face up in response.

“The jury is out on that,” Jeno says, succinct, but he gives Jaemin a small smile that makes Jaemin’s heart flutter. “Oh, we’re up next.”

Jaemin holds Jeno’s hand through the entire ride, and even when they get splashed with all the water from the river rapids, he doesn’t let go. Their belongings are safe once they get off the ride, thankfully, but they’re both soaked because Jeno wanted to sit at the front of the cart, and now, Jeno’s t-shirt is distractingly hugging his figure. Jaemin wrenches his gaze away from Jeno’s arms, a feat that he has to commend himself for being able to accomplish.

“Safari ride now? We can go on it so we can dry off before heading to some of the other areas.” Please dry off, Jaemin thinks, tugging his own soaked shirt away from his chest. The shirt is cold and wet and thoroughly uncomfortable, and Jaemin wants it to just be dry already. For the sake of my sanity, please, please dry off.

Jaemin’s sanity is on thin fucking ice, because the calming safari ride he’d been promised ends up being absolutely anything but. It turns out that Sundays are popular days for families with kids, which means that all of the rides are filled to the brim and Jaemin’s squished in between the end of the row of seats and Jeno and his wet shirt. Jeno keeps waving to the kids sitting next to him, and Jaemin would find that cute as fuck, but he keeps staring at Jeno’s arms, because— and oh god Jeno’s just patted the little girl sitting next to him on the head, and Jaemin wants to die.

“Wasn’t the baby cheetah super cute?” Jeno asks, his hand curled around Jaemin’s elbow after they’ve disembarked. “You know, it really, really reminded me of Mark-hyung.”

“Yeah, it was cute,” Jaemin says, smiling at Jeno. It is, by the way, a lie. He doesn’t remember anything from the safari, because all of his memories are filled with Jeno and his smiles when he looked at the big cats, when he played with the little kids, and most prominently, when he leaned over to put a hand on Jaemin’s thigh and point at the baby elephants.

“What do you want to do next?”

They’re in the European Adventure area of the park now, and Jaemin spots a familiarly lanky silhouette, one with a shorter one next to him. That can’t be— Jaemin squints at them, trying to figure out if they’re who he’s fairly certain they are, but Jeno’s voice catches his attention.

“Jaemin! Let’s go in there! Oh, wait, did you see someone you know?”

“Nah, let’s go. Must’ve been a mistake.” Jaemin turns to face Jeno, and he hopes, for Chenle’s sake, that it was a mistake.

Going along with Jeno also, unsurprisingly, turns out to be a mistake. Halfway through the line they’re in, Jaemin realizes that the House of Mirrors he’d been expecting is actually a Haunted Mansion. Jaemin can feel Jeno’s excitement shoot higher and higher the closer they get to the entrance, and it’s in complete opposition to what Jaemin’s feeling, which is nothing but complete dread.

He holds Jeno’s arm tight, so tight that Jaemin’s sure he’s going to leave some marks, but he doesn’t care, he’s terrified. It only gets worse when he and Jeno are led down a dark hallway, but when the attendant givens them two bright green ray guns and tells them to enjoy shooting the ghosts, that’s when the sinking feeling in Jaemin’s stomach starts to subside, and he lets go of Jeno’s arm to take the other ray gun.

“You sure you held on tight enough? I think you just cut off circulation to my arm,” Jeno laughs, shouldering the ray gun, and Jaemin can feel himself flushing. He’s suddenly grateful for how dimly lit the hallways are so that Jeno can’t see his face. “Let’s go.”

“Shut up and get shooting,” Jaemin mutters, poking Jeno in the side to get him to move along. “Go, go. On your left!”

“Got it already,” Jeno says, shooting Jaemin a grin over his shoulder. A ghost pops up behind Jaemin, and Jeno whirls around and gets it right between its eyes. “Ooh, that one too. Step it up, Jaemin, or I’ll leave you in the dust.”

“You wish,” Jaemin grumbles, shouldering past Jeno to take the lead. “The name you’re going to be seeing on the leaderboard is mine.”

Cartoon ghosts or not, it’s still a haunted mansion, so Jaemin ends up getting spooked more times than he really wants to admit. The eyes of a portrait that he’s standing next to follow him while he’s waiting for the next room to open up, and he screams when he sees it happen, jumping and accidentally smacking Jeno on the head with his ray gun. “Sorry,” Jaemin whispers as Jeno clutches the back of his head, his face screwed up. “Uh, reflex.”

“I’m suing you for damages, and on my birthday, too?” Jeno puts a hand over his heart, mock affronted. “Honestly, I’m hurt.”

Jaemin tells himself that it’s only the residual guilt lingering in the back of his mind for accidentally hitting Jeno with the ray gun that lets Jeno take the win, but when he sees Jeno’s face light up with joy as the attendant hands him a giant stuffed ghost plush, he’s not so sure anymore. Jeno holds the plush close to his chest as they’re leaving the mansion, and when they sit down for lunch at a disgustingly overpriced restaurant, Jeno puts it on the seat next to him.

“What should we name it?” Jeno asks over a basket of fries, popping one in his mouth. “I’m out of names right now, and I know you let me have an easy win, so you deserve to name it.”

“No, I didn’t. I was just distracted,” Jaemin snorts, but he takes a bite of his burger, chewing it thoughtfully. “What about Nana?”

“Really? Nana? You’re gonna name the ghost after yourself? I don’t know about that, isn’t it too cute to be named after someone like you?”

“It’s a good name,” Jaemin protests. “Also, it totally suits it. Look at its face. Look at mine.”

He leans over the table to grab the ghost and holds it up to his own face, pouting at Jeno. He feels like a little kid trying to impress his crush, but, well. That is exactly what he really is doing.

“Fine,” Jeno sighs. He puts his chin on his hands, grabbing the milkshake in between them and stabbing another straw into it next to Jaemin’s before taking a sip. He reaches over to pat the ghost on its fluffy white head. “Hi, Nana. Welcome to the family.”

They head over to the ferris wheel once they’ve explored the rest of the park, and Jaemin gets over the vertigo enough to move over to Jeno’s side, holding Nana up between them.

“Cheese,” Jeno says, snapping five photos all in a row of the three of them before looking back down at them, and he scrolls to one before showing it to Jaemin. “Oh, this one’s cute. Let’s print it out and frame it. Family picture.”

“Aw, the two of us are so cute,” Jaemin coos, taking Jeno’s phone from him. He can feel Jeno preening next to him, so he makes sure to add, “and then there’s you.”

“It’s my birthday,” Jeno complains, slapping Jaemin on the thigh and stealing Nana back. “You can’t be mean to me.”

“It’s your birthday tomorrow,” Jaemin retorts, but he puts his hand over Jeno’s anyway. “I’ll be nice to you tomorrow.”

Still, though, when they’re at the gift shop waiting for Mark and Donghyuck to come back, Jaemin finds a set of matching bracelets. One’s black and the other’s white, and Jaemin takes them to the counter to pay for them while Jeno’s still looking around, Nana held securely in his arms. Jaemin waits until they’re home to take the small gift bag out of his backpack, and he calls Jeno over, motioning him over to the couch. “Got something for you.”

“What is it?” Jeno asks, sitting down next to Jaemin. “If it’s not a cat, I don’t want it.”

“Close your eyes,” Jaemin says, and Jeno blinks at him.

“Why?”

“Just— just close your eyes.” Jeno cocks his head to the side in confusion, but he closes his eyes obligingly. Jaemin takes a moment to admire how pretty Jeno’s eyelashes are, their shadows casting dark and long across his cheeks, before he slaps himself out of it. Fuck, he has to pay attention. He upends the gift bag into his lap, takes Jeno’s right wrist, and loops the white bracelet around Jeno’s wrist once, twice, before clasping it together. “Happy birthday.”

Jeno opens his eyes and holds his wrist up to the light, and Jaemin sees the way Jeno’s eyes widen when he sees it. “It’s so cute,” Jeno marvels, turning it this way and that. It’s simple, made of some woven cords, and it’s long enough that it’s still loose even after making two entire loops with it. “Where’d you get this?”

“Earlier today when you were looking at the mini glass figurines with Nana in the gift shop,” Jaemin replies, automatic. He takes out the black bracelet and puts it on before showing Jeno. “Now we can be matching.”

Jeno reaches for Jaemin’s wrist, fingering the clasp, before he puts his own wrist next to Jaemin’s. “You should’ve gotten one for Nana,” Jeno says, a little bit wistful, and they both turn to stare at the ghost plush reclining on the cushions next to them. “Never mind, stupid question. Nana doesn’t have long arms. Ghost plush. Of course.”

“That’s okay, I can get Nana one the next time we go back so he can match with us, since he has little stubby arms we can tie a bracelet to if we try hard enough. Or she. Wait, is Nana a she?”

“Nana can be whatever Nana wants to be,” Jeno says, and he reaches across Jaemin’s thigh so he can pull Nana into his lap. Jaemin catches a brief hint of lavender and honey when Jeno’s hair brushes his face, and he tries, desperately, to keep himself from inhaling. He fails, and when Jeno comes back up, his hair tickles Jaemin’s chin.

“Good point,” Jaemin concedes, only slightly strangled, and Jeno beams at him, and fuck, who gave him permission to be so cute while bouncing up and down on the couch? Right in front of their Nana? That’s their child right there. Jaemin’s going to have a stroke.

“Anyway, thanks for today,” Jeno says, his smile softening. He takes Jaemin’s hand in his, thumbs rubbing over Jaemin’s knuckles, and he stares down at their linked hands before he looks back up at Jaemin’s face. “You were a great date, Jaemin. I’m going to petition to change my birth date to April 22 instead, because I don’t think anything could top today.”

“Aw, thanks—” Jaemin starts, but Jeno launches himself at Jaemin, and all Jaemin can do is to open his arms up and hope that Jeno lands safely. Jeno’s arms come up to wrap around Jaemin’s shoulders, and Nana is squished very firmly between them, but Jaemin can still feel Jeno’s body heat all the same. He leans into the hug and pats Jeno on the back until Jeno pulls back, his eyes still sparkling. “Happy birthday, Jeno.”

And then Jaemin doesn’t know if Jeno’s still riding the high of the day or if he’s perhaps bonked his head during one of the rides, but he pauses before darting in to press a kiss, quick and soft, to Jaemin’s cheek. It’s over so quickly that Jaemin’s not even sure if he dreamed the entire thing up, but when he sees Jeno sitting across him with rosy cheeks, it hits him that this? This is real life.

“Goodnight, Jaemin,” Jeno whispers, patting Jaemin’s cheek, and Jaemin can’t stop looking at the flush high on Jeno’s cheekbones. Jeno takes Nana with him when he backs away and shuts the door of his bedroom behind him, and Jaemin stares at the closed door for what feels like an eternity. Then—

“Yes,” Jaemin mutters to himself, and it feels like he’s walking on clouds when he drags himself to the bathroom to wash up. He does a little victory dance in the bathroom, and he checks his reflection in the mirror just to see how much he’s grinning, how much like a lovesick idiot he looks like. “Oh, no.”

Chapter Text

[ENTER-TALK] Some non-idols are more handsome than idols…

I’m not a fan of any group, but don’t you think that there are definitely people who aren’t idols that could become idols if they wanted to on basis of their faces? One example is YTD’s Lee Taeyong ㅎㅎ I saw some photos of him at an art gallery that his family sponsored of that photographer Jaehyun’s work, and I thought Lee Taeyong was one of the exhibits. His face is unreal, seriously. What are your thoughts on this topic?

post response:

[+892, -231]

1. [+242, -84] I’d like to nominate Johnny Seo and Nakamoto Yuta ^^ They’re both ambassadors’ sons, from the United States and Japan~ To live a life like that, wouldn’t it be even better than becoming an idol? ㅋㅋ I don’t see why people like them would ever want to become idols if they’re already rich...

2. [+201, -29] Na~ Jae~ Min~ I’ve attached some pictures, just look at them and you’ll see that I’m right ㅋㅋㅋ

3. [+168, -32] Don’t most people have thoughts like this? Well, I’d choose Kim Dongyoung. I’m in some of his classes at SNU, and even before learning that his family was well-off, I definitely thought “oh, he could become an idol if he wanted to.” I heard his older brother is an actor, too. A family of face geniuses ㅋㅋ

“Hello, friends,” Jaemin announces as he strides into his classroom, and while some of his other classmates give him tired “hello”s, Renjun only gives him a dirty look. Jaemin gives Renjun what he thinks is his most sympathetic pat as he sits down, but he inches carefully away from him after Renjun glares at him again. “Damn, Renjun, what crawled up your panties and died this morning?”

“Chenle,” Renjun mutters, and Jaemin stares at him, a frozen smile on his face, before he turns to face the front of the classroom when the teacher comes in. Alright. He’ll find out what’s going on later, but for now, he’s realized that he actually wants to do well on the CSAT. Not just to impress Jeno, but he wants to get into university on his own terms, of course. Making him proud and all that.

“Thinking cap on, you can do this, Jaeminie. Fighting,” Jaemin mumbles after a few minutes, a hundred percent to himself, and he doesn’t understand why Renjun butts in with a snide comment. Those were private thoughts.

“How cute,” Renjun coos. “Maybe we should’ve gotten you married off to someone cute way earlier in your academic career if that would’ve stopped you from skipping exams all the time. What a motivation to start.”

“Fuck off,” Jaemin says as nicely as he can, grinning at Renjun until he realizes that he has no idea what the teacher is talking about anymore. He scrambles to try to make the logical jump from the last thing he heard, and in the end, it’s Renjun who’s left smiling at him.

When lunch rolls around, Renjun only turns to Jaemin and says, “I’m going to buy a blimp, kidnap Chenle, and throw him out of it into the goddamn ocean if he comes in and says anything about—”

“Hey, losers!” Chenle singsongs, skipping through the doorway and coming to a skidding halt right in front of Jaemin. “Guess how my weekend went?”

“Shitty,” Jaemin guesses, and Chenle sticks his tongue out at him.

“Nah, that was probably yours, hyung. My promised Everland date with Jisung finally happened, and guess what? We successfully did, as you call it, the French kissing.”

“No one calls it that—” Jaemin starts, and then he freezes, the implication of Chenle’s words starting to sink in. Renjun’s already put his head squarely onto his desk in a clear attempt at blocking out the conversation. “No.”

Chenle smiles at him, hoisting himself up to sit on an unoccupied desk. “Yes.”

Jaemin stares at Chenle, trying to decide if it’s really worth it or not, before he decides on a solid no. Throttling Chenle is only a temporary solution, anyway, and besides, Jaemin has other things, other plans to worry about. He’s in pursuit of a bigger picture now. “Alright, whatever.”

“Whatever?” Chenle’s bug-eyed. “What’s with this sudden change of heart? Who are you?”

“Yeah. I saw you two at Everland, anyway. You went yesterday, right? I saw you guys, I fucking knew it was you, you oversized gummy bear.” Jaemin shrugs. Chenle almost looks crestfallen that just dangling any mention of Jisung in front of Jaemin won’t inspire a rampage anymore. Sucks to be him. Jaemin’s mature now. He’s almost a married man. “I’m not living for myself anymore, Chenle. The Jaemin of yesterday would’ve already thrown you into a headlock, but now? This is a new me, kiddo.”

Renjun lifts his head up from the table and asks, “Does that have anything to do with your new bracelet?”

“Yep,” Jaemin says, automatic.

“Does Jeno have a matching one?”

“Yep.”

“Did you buy them for the two of you on his birthday?”

“Yep.”

“So on a scale of not at all to completely, just how whipped are you?”

“Hey! I’m not whipped!” Jaemin protests, and Chenle butts in to say, “Holy shit, so much. He’s actually studying.”

“The power of love,” Renjun sighs. “How inspirational.”

“Maybe you’d be able to understand it someday, if your heart becomes more than just the empty husk it is right now. It’s quite nice, actually. It makes me have all these warm fuzzy feelings that I used to have to drink to experience,” Jaemin says. His liver loves him so much more now. “If only you could be as happy as I am.”

Renjun cuts Jaemin a look. “I was going to ask you if you wanted to come to one of my friends’ parties. It’s in a week or so. I know we’re all a little busy with studying, but if you want to bring Jeno along to the party, I’m sure he’d have fun. Also, I want to say hi. You know, like friends.” He adds, before Chenle can ask, “No. Not you. You are a baby. No babies.”

“No tiny little gummy bear gremlins allowed,” Jaemin says. “Adults only.”

“You’re not even legal, Jaemin,” Chenle hisses. “You’re not even allowed to drink. I looked up the rules, and you have to be nineteen, which you are not.”

“At least I don’t look ten,” Jaemin croons, reaching forward to pinch Chenle’s cheeks, and Chenle swats his hands away. “It’s okay, our little baby Chenle. I understand. You’re only upset because you know I’m right.”

did you ask him if he’s planning on coming yet? Renjun texts Jaemin as he’s studying for some of his upcoming exams that night, his textbooks spread across the coffee table. Jaemin locks his phone and tosses it onto the table before clambering onto the couch and looking over at the kitchen. Jeno’s sitting at the dinner table with Nana in his lap, his books spread out in front of him and his glasses perched on his nose. He’s startlingly handsome as always, even in a well-worn t-shirt and pajama pants with sheep print, and Jaemin feels like the universe is both against him and on his side at the same damn time.

“Hey,” Jaemin calls out, and Jeno looks over and cocks his head to the side. The movement only makes his post-shower hair flop over his glasses, and that, too, is also unfairly endearing. “One of my friends invited us to a party in a week or so. It’s going to be at a college friend’s place. You wanna come?”

Jeno chews on his lip. Jaemin can tell that he’s hesitating, running through all the possible things that could happen, and he also knows that Jeno doesn’t usually like to go to things like this. He’s already prepared a few words to text over to Renjun after Jeno inevitably turns him down, and it goes a little something like he said no bc u suck lol byeeeeee!

“Sure,” Jeno finally says instead, and Jaemin very nearly topples off the couch in shock. He’s not sure if he’s heard right or not, but he isn’t about to let this golden of an opportunity go to waste.

“Don’t you need to study, though? Are you sure it’s gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Look, I’ve been studying with you for this long, and I’m going at the pace I need to if I want to get all the material down before November. It’s okay. I really want to go, too, so this is a good thing.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, why not? This is the least I could do for you.” Jeno shrugs, tapping the end of his pen against his lips. “You even came to Everland with me for my birthday with my friends. If I come with you to this party, that means I get to meet your friends, right?”

“Just one, probably. Did I ever tell you about Renjun? He’s going to be there. The other one can’t come because he’s a baby,” Jaemin says. “Chenle is the one who’s dating Jisung, by the way. I hate him.”

“Oh, the little cute one? He hangs out at the dance studio sometimes. We haven’t talked a lot, but I like him. Doesn’t he kind of remind you of a gummy bear?”

“He only looks like a gummy bear, but trust me. He’s slimy. He’s been trying to get his grubby little paws on Jisung for the longest time. I say we should band together to stop him. You in?”

“Why are you trying to stop him? He already kisses Jisung goodbye every single day at the studio.” Jeno’s moved on to chewing on the end of his pen, a habit that Jaemin usually hates on other people, but Jeno’s so cute and his lips are pink. Damn his brain, why does it refuse to pay attention whenever he needs it. He should be more horrified, but he doesn’t care about Jisung and Chenle anymore. Jeno’s lips are so pink. He wants to kiss him. Okay, that’s it.

“I think I need to lie down for a bit,” Jaemin says instead, and Jeno grins at him before going back to his work. Jaemin texts Renjun a quick ok we coming can u lmk where ur friend lives later thx before he rolls over onto his back, staring despondently at the ceiling.

“Catch!” Jaemin hears before he sees something sail over the end of the couch. He instinctively reaches up to grab it, and it’s Nana, white and round and fluffy in his hands. Jaemin pops back up so he can give Jeno a questioning look and a quick shake of the plush in his hand. “Thought you might want some company right now.”

“Thanks,” Jaemin says, ducking back down before he can say something stupidly embarrassing like “the only company I want right now is you,” or “can’t you come over and keep me company?” He hugs Nana to his chest, and he realizes, with no small amount of glee, that Nana smells like Jeno. This right here is going to be the only thing keeping him through the next six chapters of Sociology. Jaemin heaves a long, long sigh before he slides down to sit on the floor, and he hugs Nana again and pretends, like a coward, that he’s hugging Jeno instead.

The address Renjun gives him is for an apartment near Sungkyunkwan University, and when Jaemin finds the exact number, he can hear the bass thumping from inside. Jaemin texts Renjun that he’s arrived, but when he and Jeno have waited outside for five minutes without anyone coming outside to let him in, he figures that Renjun’s probably lost his phone. Someone he doesn’t know opens the door when he knocks, and he opens the door even further when Jaemin says, “I’m Jaemin. A friend of Renjun’s.”

“I’m Yukhei. This is my place. Hey, good to see you could come. Renjun’s told me a lot about you,” the guy says, grinning widely, and when he claps Jaemin on the back, it actually hurts. He turns to Jeno, says, “You’re Jeno, right? Heard a lot about you, too. Hey, come on in.”

Jaemin gives Jeno a smile as they follow Yukhei into his apartment, and Jeno only gives him a mildly terrified glance.

“Don’t leave me,” Jeno hisses, “I don’t know what I’m like when I’m drunk.”

Cute.

“I won’t,” Jaemin promises, and he leads Jeno to the kitchen. It’s absolutely chaotic, Yukhei’s apartment filled with too many drunk and dancing university students, and Jaemin’s senses are going haywire. He hates when he’s surrounded by too many people he doesn’t know, and here, where he only knows a total of two people out of forty, is as suboptimal a situation as it can get. He pulls Jeno to him, curls his fingers around Jeno’s wrist, lets the scent of lavender drift around him, and he breathes, in and out.

“You okay?” Jeno asks, hand coming up to brush Jaemin’s fringe from his forehead. He leans closer to Jaemin, pressing Jaemin against the counter as he does so. “You’re kind of warm. Do you want to go home?”

“I’m good, don’t worry,” Jaemin says, and he lifts Jeno’s hand away from his face. Jeno’s too close for comfort, his eyes bright and his lips parted, and Jaemin’s eyes rake over the kitchen for any alcohol, any at all, and there, next to the sink, is a case of beer. He slips away from Jeno and grabs two beers before holding one out to Jeno. “You want a drink?”

“I— yeah, sure,” Jeno says, and he takes the proffered beer. He stares down at it before asking, “How do I open this?”

It’s time for Jaemin to put his time-honed skills to use. He motions for Jeno to wait for him before fishing around in the drawers for a spoon. “Watch and learn,” he says and uses the spoon to pop the bottle caps off, catching them as they fall. “Done.”

Jeno’s eyebrows raise almost to his hairline. “How did you do that?”

“A magician never reveals his secrets.” Renjun says this is one of Jaemin’s plethora of useless talents since he’s watched far too many Youtube videos on impressive ways to open bottles without actually using a bottle opener. As long as it gets him Jeno’s admiration, it’s worth it.

“Okay,” Jeno says, grinning before lifting the bottle to his lips and downing roughly half of it. He splutters. “Okay, that was disgusting.”

“I’m so proud of you, Jeno,” Jaemin says, and he’s so disgustingly engrossed in Jeno’s responding smile that he doesn’t even notice someone coming up behind him.

“Hey, asshole. Sad to see that you could make it,” Renjun says, and Jaemin rolls his eyes. He turns to Jeno and sticks his hand out. “I’m Renjun. I’m so sorry you’re saddled with this douchebag here for the rest of your life.”

“Trust me, no one is sorrier than I am.” Jeno switches the bottle from his right hand to his left, and he takes Renjun’s hand with an enthusiasm that makes Jaemin’s heart sink. There’s something disconcertingly off about having these two worlds of his meet, and he doesn’t know if he likes it or not.

“So, how’d you meet Yukhei?” Jaemin asks, putting his drink down on the counter behind him to cross his arms. “Never pegged you as the type to have cool college friends, you giant fucking nerd.”

“Jaemin, be nice,” Jeno chides, and at the same time, Renjun shoots back with, “Jaemin, go die.”

Jaemin is really, really starting to regret ever bringing Jeno to this party when Jeno and Renjun give each other a knowing look before Renjun sighs and says, “Okay, a few things. One, I’m not a giant fucking nerd, you giant fucking nerd. I’m telling Jeno all about how you told me not to tell him that you cried watching Naruto. Oops, now he knows. Two, Yukhei and I met before at a work function because while he looks like an idiot, he’s actually fluent in five languages and works as an interpreter for his parents’ company. Three, holy shit, Jeno is too good for you.”

“He is,” Jaemin agrees. Renjun pretends to gag, and Jeno takes another swig of his bottle.

“Disgusting, so disgusting,” Renjun mutters into his solo cup, and when Jaemin leans over to look into it, it’s a strange reddish purple color.

“What is that?”

“Dunno,” Renjun says. “There’s a punchy thing in the living room. It’s pretty good, but I think I’m getting a little bit fucked. I have no idea what’s in it.”

He flicks Jaemin on the forehead just because, and Jaemin winces. “Ow. Get me some, will you?”

“Do I look like your servant?” Renjun asks, but he’s already backing out of the kitchen and making his way back into the throng. “Stay there, don’t do anything stupid.”

“He said not to do anything stupid,” Jaemin repeats to Jeno, who’s moved to lean against the counter as well. “So don’t.”

“Not gonna have any problem with that, but won’t that be hard for you? Everything you do is kind of stupid,” Jeno says, but before Jaemin can retort, Jeno hands him an empty bottle and gives him an apologetic look. “Sorry, can you hold this for me? I need to use the restroom for a bit, gotta go find it first.”

Jaemin stands there in the kitchen, nursing his and Jeno’s empty bottles before realizing there’s a recycling bin right across from them. A couple with their hands all over each other bumps into Jaemin on their quest to find a suitable place to make out, and he directs them to a nearby closet. Renjun comes back a few seconds later, another solo cup in his hands that he hands over to Jaemin. He takes an experimental sip. It’s overly sweet, but the fruit punch and lemonade still do an absolutely shit job at masking the taste of all the vodka that’s clearly been dumped into it.

“How is it?” Renjun asks, and Jaemin downs the entire cup. “Oh, wow. What the fuck is your tolerance?”

“I had to finish that to tell you this,” Jaemin says, and he stares Renjun dead in the eyes. Renjun stares back at him, and Jaemin blinks. He’s always been shitty at staring contests. He’s thought this so many times to himself, but it’s the first time he’s voiced it out loud, even to his own reflection. “I think I might be in love with Jeno.”

“Why is this news?” Renjun asks, taking a sip of his own punch. “I thought we all knew this. Even Chenle knew this, and there are only three brain cells left in that skull of his. One’s reserved for Jisung, the second one’s for singing, and the last one is divided between everything else that matters in life.”

“I just confessed my biggest secret to you, and this is how you repay me? I’m offended.” Jaemin sighs. The vodka’s starting to get to his head. He hasn’t gone out in a while, and he feels lightheaded, a little bit dizzy. “What do I do? I want to kiss him so badly.”

“Then do it. When has anything ever stopped you from doing something you really wanted to? What’s stopping you now?”

He doesn’t want to fuck it up. He doesn’t want to do things too quickly and scare Jeno off, doesn’t want to make Jeno uncomfortable, doesn’t want to force him into feeling like he has to return Jaemin’s feelings. “I don’t want to fuck this up. Fuck. I didn’t mean to say that out loud. God. Just ignore me, I haven’t had drinks in a long time. I’m saying things I don’t really mean.”

Renjun gives him a pitying stare, one that Jaemin’s brain hates on principle. “You totally meant it.”

“I did,” Jaemin says, and he reaches for Renjun’s punch and downs that as well. “Fuck, shouldn’t he be back from the bathroom by now? It’s been, like, ten minutes. He always goes really fast.”

“I did not need to know that, Jaemin. I really, really didn’t,” Renjun says as kindly as he can. “Hang on, I’ll get you another drink.”

Renjun’s barely been gone for a minute before he’s ducking back into the kitchen where Jaemin’s staring at the ceiling with another beer in his hand. Renjun doesn’t have another cup of punch in his hands, and Jaemin feels just slightly betrayed. “Hey, I thought you were gonna get me another drink.”

“Shut up,” Renjun says, and it’s only when Renjun grabs Jaemin by the wrist and— god, has his grip ever been this much like a vice?— stares closely at him that Jaemin realizes that Renjun’s eyes are starting to look a little bit wild. “Shut up, holy shit, Na Jaemin. You need to see this.”

Renjun leads Jaemin through the crowd, pushing past people grinding up on each other and jostling a couple doing their best to suck each other’s souls out through their mouths. Jaemin tries to ask what’s going on a few more times, but Renjun shushes him a few more times. It’s when Renjun pushes Jaemin through the crowd that he realizes, finally, what’s going on.

It’s not a big space, but Jeno’s dancing in the middle of a clearing, moving in time to the music, and Jaemin can’t tear his eyes away. He’s never seen Jeno dance before, and while he’s always known that Jeno’s good because of how much Jisung lauds him as a “hyung who works hard,” he’s never expected Jeno to be this good. His moves are all power, and he’s beautiful, his face flushed red, his neck beading with sweat. Jaemin could watch Jeno forever, and his stupid brain is starting to think that might be a good idea. He can’t even call out to Jeno or tell him he’s doing a good job, because his throat is dry and his mouth is full of cotton balls.

He realizes, belatedly, that it’s not a surprise that other people start getting ideas. Someone he doesn’t know, someone who’s very clearly a university student, comes up next to Jeno and starts dancing with him, matching his moves to Jeno’s, and Jaemin hates him almost instantly. Jaemin can’t move to try to save Jeno, since he’s immobilized by the crush of the bodies around him, but when the guy makes a misstep to avoid bumping into Jeno, he gets close enough to where Jaemin and Renjun are standing that Jaemin can scent him, and— alpha.

Jaemin’s temper flares, something searing and jealous rising from inside him, and he pushes the people next to him away to burst forward and take Jeno’s wrist and jerk him closer, and when Jeno’s eyes focus on Jaemin, all he says is, slurred and slow, “It took you long enough, Jaemin.”

Jaemin waves Renjun goodbye, his arm curled around Jeno’s shoulders, and as the door of the apartment shuts behind them, it occurs to him that he doesn’t even know what even spurred him to do this, why he’s so possessive all of a sudden. Jeno’s swaying, and when Jaemin looks at him, he realizes he’s more flushed than he would have been if he’d only had a single beer. He thinks about someone else handing Jeno a drink, someone else dancing with Jeno, someone else seeing Jeno the way only Jaemin wants to be able to see him, and that ugly jealousy is back, rearing its head, and Jaemin knows exactly why he feels like this.

“Jeno,” Jaemin starts, his head clearing from the rush, from the air, and the lightheadedness makes way for a sudden, cutting sense of dread. “What did you drink?”

Jeno giggles instead, high and uncharacteristic, and fuck, he’s so drunk. Jaemin hates that Jeno looks so tantalizing like this, when his guard is down and he can let loose enough to dance, when there’s nothing but adoration in his eyes and expectation in his voice. “Did you like it? When I danced?”

“I— yeah. A lot. You’re really good. I did like it, Jeno, but can you answer my question first? What did you drink? Did someone give you something to drink?”

Jeno closes his eyes, humming to himself as he tries to remember. He loops his arms around Jaemin’s neck, tugging him closer, and he sighs, quiet and soft.

“Yeah, when I came out of the bathroom, someone gave me a red cup. I thought it was water, but it tasted real funny. I don’t think it was water at all. Now my head feels weird. Why does my head feel weird? Jaemin, I don’t— I don’t like it.”

Oh, shit. It must’ve been too strong for him. That explains the flush. And the slurring. And the dancing. And the— well, everything about Jeno tonight. Jeno’s breath smells like alcohol, and Jaemin tries not to inhale.

“Jeno, I’m going to take you back, okay? Let’s go home and get you into bed. And, uh, let me know if you feel like throwing up or anything.”

Jeno leans even closer, close enough that his breath ghosts across Jaemin’s lips. “Jaemin, I got something for you.”

“What is it, Jeno?” Jeno’s lips are slightly parted, and Jaemin can’t tear his eyes away from the way his tongue darts out to wet his lower lip.

Instead of answering, Jeno leans forward and rests his forehead against Jaemin’s, and Jaemin gulps, backing away to lean against the wall, but Jeno follows him, crowding him in. Jeno’s too close for comfort, and his eyes are almost completely black in the low light, and when he closes his eyes and leans forward, Jaemin has nowhere left to go. He panics and presses his hand against Jeno’s mouth, and Jeno’s eyes shoot open and he murmurs, against Jaemin’s fingers, “Why won’t you let me kiss you? You don’t want to kiss me?”

“I want to kiss you, but I don’t want our first kiss to be like this. I don’t want you to be drunk when we do it,” Jaemin whispers, and he lifts his hand from Jeno’s mouth to brush his thumbs over Jeno’s cheek. His skin is still warm against Jaemin’s palm, and Jaemin cups Jeno’s cheek, his other hand smoothing down Jeno’s side. “I want you to remember it.”

Jeno’s eyes close again, and he leans into the touch and exhales. Jaemin feels like he’s been sucker-punched in the stomach. “You’re a nice guy, Jaemin. You’re so nice. I like that about you. Take me home?”

Jeno slumps over onto Jaemin’s shoulder once he’s gotten him into the backseat of the cab, and Jaemin rubs his thumb over Jeno’s knuckles the entire way home. Jaemin’s never been more glad that they have a private elevator, because once he’s gotten Jeno into the elevator next to him and the doors close behind them, Jeno latches back onto Jaemin, pressing him against the wall.

“How are you still standing?” Jeno mumbles into Jaemin’s neck, and Jaemin thinks that if he could see Jeno’s face, it would be filled with something like wonder. He sounds more clear-headed now, but a tipsy Jeno is apparently a clingy Jeno. Not that Jaemin minds, of course. Jeno is a comfortable weight in his arms, and he would be lying if he says that he doesn’t like the way Jeno’s lips brush against his neck when he speaks. “About to fall over right now, so glad you’re here.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” Jaemin says, wry, and he pats Jeno’s back to get him to stand up once the elevator dings. “Comes with the territory of having friends like Renjun.”

“He’s nice. Smells like marshmallows,” Jeno says, stumbling through the door and into the foyer.

Jaemin hums, noncommittal, and he dumps Jeno onto the couch before meandering over to the kitchen. “Yeah, he does. Let me get you some water.”

He returns with a glass of water to find Jeno sitting upright, his hands in his lap, and Jeno opens his mouth, expectant and waiting, when he notices Jaemin there. He supposes that’s a cue to come over and hold the glass for him as he drinks, and Jaemin does just that until it’s empty. He puts the empty glass on the coffee table, standing next to where Jeno’s sitting, and he notices that Jeno’s still swaying a little. “Do you feel like you’re going to throw up?”

“Nah, I‘m okay.” Jeno smacks his lips before he tugs on Jaemin’s sleeve, staring up at him. “I’m sleepy.”

“Let’s get you to bed, then,” Jaemin says, but Jeno keeps a firm grip on his sleeve and shakes his head. “What?”

“But I don’t want to sleep.” Jeno says, petulant, and he uses Jaemin’s arm to help himself stand up. “Dance with me. I want you to dance with me.”

Jaemin blanches. Before today, he would’ve been fine with it, but now that he’s seen what Jeno is like when he dances, he’s not so sure that that’s a good idea. Dancing with Jeno— especially a tipsy Jeno— sounds like something that has more cons than it has pros. “I don’t know, Jeno. Um. There’s no music. Also, didn’t you have enough of dancing earlier?”

Jeno shuffles closer, puts his hands onto Jaemin’s shoulders, and knocks his forehead against Jaemin’s, and there’s a lopsided grin on his face when he pulls back. “Just like this,” he says, before he starts humming a song Jaemin doesn’t recognize, before he starts to sway in time to the beat he’s come up with. “Just like this.”

Jaemin can take a hint. He rests his hands lightly on Jeno’s hips, and Jeno’s still a little bit unsteady on his feet, but Jaemin lets him take them around the living room in large, sweeping circles. He lets Jeno lean forward and loosely throw his arms around Jaemin’s neck, and Jaemin tightens the hold he has around Jeno’s waist, tugging him closer so that their bodies are flush against one another. He breathes in the scent of lavender and breathes out all of the exhaustion from the day, and when Jeno presses a kiss to Jaemin’s shoulder, Jaemin lets him.

Jaemin puts Jeno to bed once he gets too tired to stand up, stroking his hair and dragging his blanket over his shoulders, and he makes sure that the bucket he’s put next to Jeno’s bed is a garish enough shade of neon green that Jeno can see it even in the dark.

Jaemin has trouble falling asleep that night. Underneath the area on his shoulder where Jeno had kissed him earlier, his skin burns, but it’s not an unpleasant feeling. His entire body burns, and he hopes that Jeno will dance for him again someday, and not the kind of dance they’d done earlier. He hopes that Jeno will try to kiss him again because this time, Jaemin’s going to let him. And if Jeno doesn’t, if Jeno forgets everything from tonight, Jaemin’s going to kiss him first.

Chapter Text

[ENTER-TALK] Are there any heirs you would date if you could?

I’ve noticed that there are some handsome chaebol heirs, and some are exactly my type. I go to Seoul International, and I have to say that Zhong Chenle is rea~lly adorable. I’m only in my first year, but just once, I wish he would look at me and say hi. He always hangs out with Huang Renjun and Na Jaemin, who are really attractive as well. They look like they just walked out of a drama. Anyway, it’s a fantasy, so don’t take this too seriously okay? ㅋㅋ

post response:

[+459, -98]

1. [+104, -39] For me, Wong Yukhei… He’s from Hong Kong, and he’s doing a year here as an exchange student. I first heard about him when I saw that he was a model but goes to other celebrities’ fanmeets. That’s when I thought “Oh, he’s really like one of us?” I think he would be fun to talk to and hang out with ㅎㅎ Yukhei-ya, noona will buy you a drink someday!

2. [+102, -17] Lee Donghyuck ㅎㅎ If you’ve ever seen him or any pictures of him, doesn’t he look like a ray of sunshine? Seriously, it’s like the clouds opened up and shone on the earth and he was born… My cousin said that he’s insanely kind in real life as well. But I heard that he’s dating someone older going to SNU for medicine ㅋㅋㅋ How am I supposed to compete with that? That person must be so lucky, it’s like a drama come true.

3. [+96, -30] I’ve liked Na Jaemin ever since primary school ㅠㅠ Some people think that he’s really arrogant on the outside, but he’s crazily kind to the point where he doesn’t even seem like a real person sometimes. But I saw him at Everland last week with Lee Jeno yesterday, and they were holding hands, so I guess that this dream will always be a dream ㅋㅋㅋ It was a good one while it lasted!

Jaemin wakes up sometime around noon when he hears a muffled thump and a brief but loud yelp, and he doesn’t even need to open his eyes to know that Jeno’s probably fallen onto the ground while trying to get out of bed. Once he’s finished brushing up, he goes over to Jeno’s room and opens his door, and sure enough, Jeno’s on the ground, covered in his blanket and staring blankly at the ceiling.

“You okay?” Jaemin asks behind his hand, but once he gets closer, he can see quite clearly that Jeno’s anything but okay.

“I want to die,” Jeno groans. “Why are the lights so fucking bright.”

“The lights aren’t even on,” Jaemin says, bemused. “That’s just the sun.”

“Oh. Really?” Jeno squints up at him before he claps his hands over his eyes. “I guess you’re right. Turn it off.”

“Did you really just ask me to turn off the sun?”

“Never said that. You’re crazy,” Jeno mumbles, and he tries to scoot underneath his bed, but when he realizes he won’t be able to fit, he rolls over on the ground and draws the blankets over him. “So bright. Head hurts. Mouth dry.”

“Do you want me to bring you some water?”

Jeno gives Jaemin a weirdly angled thumbs up, and Jaemin goes to the kitchen to bring him a glass of water and some saltine crackers. Jeno’s in the same exact position when Jaemin returns, so he sits down and rolls Jeno over onto his back.

“Here. Drink.” Jeno only squints at him again before dragging himself up to put his head in Jaemin’s lap, and Jaemin briefly wonders if today is going to be the day he dies for real. He reaches down to run his fingers through Jeno’s hair as Jeno takes little sips of water in between bites of the crackers. Jeno’s adorable like this, his hair fanned out over Jaemin’s thighs. “You doing okay?”

Jeno swallows a mouthful of water before glaring up at Jaemin. “I feel like shit, asshole. How come you’re still functional? I swear you had more than I did.”

“I told you yesterday already, but I’ve had a lot of practice. Even though he doesn’t look it, Renjun’s a heavyweight. He drinks me under the table every single time. You don’t remember anything?”

Jeno shakes his head slowly, side to side and reaches upwards to play with the hem of Jaemin’s basketball shorts, and Jaemin fervently prays to any deity that might be listening to help him keep himself from rolling over and kissing Jeno senseless. “I remember a little bit. Not a lot, though. I think I remember going to the bathroom, but I dunno about much else. Everything’s kinda fuzzy.”

“Aw, you’re so cute, Jeno.” Jaemin pats Jeno on the forehead once he finishes his water, and Jeno snaps at Jaemin’s fingers as if he’s about to bite them. “Wow, someone’s feisty today.”

“Don’t patronize me,” Jeno mumbles, and Jaemin ruffles his hair in response.

Jeno swats his hand away, turning his face into the inside of Jaemin’s thigh, and he blows a raspberry into Jaemin’s skin, wet and sloppy and setting off all of the alarm bells in Jaemin’s brain. Jaemin yelps, and he drops Jeno’s head on the hardwood floor in his haste to get away, wincing when it makes a loud thunk. Jeno clutches his head, groaning, but Jaemin doesn’t regret it one bit. Jeno keeps doing things that test the very tenuous limits of Jaemin’s sanity, and Jaemin doesn’t know how long he can continue like this.

“What the fuck?” Jaemin asks, and when his own voice comes out high and screechy instead of the low and sexy baritone he knows it usually is, he frowns.

“I hate you, Na Jaemin. Your mom gave me her number. I’m calling your mom and telling her you’re being a meanie to me.” Jeno curls up in his blanket and stares resolutely at the wall, and Jaemin sighs before picking himself up. He tries to ignore the tingling across his skin where Jeno had pressed his lips to just earlier, and he wonders if Jeno remembers trying to kiss him last night. Unlikely— he’s just said that he doesn’t remember anything after going to the bathroom, which includes the dancing and the almost kiss.

“I’m gonna order takeout from that Chinese place you like, so once you feel like being a real human being and actually leave your room, I’ll have it ready for you in the living room,” Jaemin calls out, and Jeno grunts in response. He orders fried rice and chow mein and egg rolls, and half an hour later, after Jaemin’s already brought the food up, Jeno putters out of his room.

He sniffs the air and says, “Smells good,” before dragging himself over to the bathroom, and Jaemin tells himself that Jeno obviously meant the food, so can his heart calm the fuck down already. Jeno goes back into his room to drag his blanket with him into the living room, and he wraps it around himself before clambering onto the couch and leaning against Jaemin. His head is heavy on Jaemin’s shoulder, and his hands find the frayed patches in Jaemin’s t-shirt and start picking at them. “What are you watching?”

“Just whatever. Do you want to watch anything? Get something to eat.” Jaemin turns on one of the anime they’ve been catching up on, and Jeno hums in approval. “Let’s watch people cook gourmet dishes while we eat our shitty Chinese takeout.”

“Excuse you, this is a good shitty Chinese takeout place,” Jeno mumbles, reaching for the container of egg rolls, and just to test Jeno’s post-hangover temper, Jaemin grabs the container before he can and moves it over to his side of the table. Jeno pulls Jaemin’s arm toward himself. “Don’t be mean, what if you gave me a concussion? You dropped me on the ground.”

Oh, right. Jaemin does feel a little bit bad about that, so he gives the container back to Jeno and takes one out. “Here,” he says, putting the egg roll against Jeno’s lips, and he eats the entire roll in one bite. “Wow, what are you, a baby?”

“Shut up,” Jeno mutters with his mouth full. He chews, swallows, and tugs on Jaemin’s sleeve. “I didn’t ask you to feed me.”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yeah,” Jeno says, and he opens his mouth again.

“A baby,” Jaemin sighs. “A two hundred month old baby.”

Jaemin feeds Jeno the rest of the egg rolls, and once they’ve finished the egg rolls, they demolish the rest of the food with an almost single-minded intensity. Jaemin breaks a fortune cookie apart before reading the fortune. “The fortune you seek is in another cookie,” Jaemin intones, and he looks down at Jeno. “Should we be worried?”

“Well, no news is good news. I want some.”

Jaemin dutifully breaks off a piece of the cookie and pokes Jeno’s lower lip with it. “Here,” he says, and when Jeno leans forward to eat it, he withdraws his hand.

“Jaemin, stop being mean and feed me already.”

“No.”

“Jaemin,” Jeno says, and when Jaemin makes absolutely no attempt at actually feeding Jeno, he grabs Jaemin’s wrist and gets the cookie himself. Then he licks the crumbs off of Jaemin’s finger, and Jaemin’s entire brain shuts down. His flight or fight response has completely derailed, and he’s left staring at Jeno as Jeno smacks his lips together one last time.

“That’s what you get for not feeding me,” Jeno declares before he wraps himself up in his blanket and flops down onto Jaemin’s shoulder again. They finish the entire season, and by the time they’re done, it’s nighttime. Jaemin hasn’t moved in hours primarily because he doesn’t want to move Jeno off of him, but also because Jeno and his blanket smell good. He wonders if Jeno will notice if he just surreptitiously turns his head to the side and inhales.

Jeno doesn’t move, not even when Jaemin drops a kiss onto his hair without even thinking about it, so Jaemin’s sure that he’s in the clear. Almost immediately after, though, Jeno gets up on his feet, dropping his blanket back on the couch, and grabs Jaemin’s wrist. “Come on, let’s go.”

Jaemin lets himself get dragged up and across the first floor to the stairs. “Where are we going? It’s late. Where are you taking me? Oh my god. Are you going to murder me?”

Jeno gives him a look. “We have a second floor, you know.”

“I know, but where? There’s nothing up there that we use.”

Jeno rolls his eyes. “Let’s go outside. I want to talk,” he says, and Jaemin feels his chest tighten. There are so many things to talk about, Jaemin has no idea what he could possibly want.

The second floor is quiet and dark. It’s completely devoid of all of the things they’ve left around the first floor, and Jaemin feels like he’s stepping into someone else’s house. He doesn’t like it, not when he has his pillows and belongings strewn everywhere on the couch and in his own room, not when this floor reminds him that it really isn’t his own house to call a home sometimes. Then Jeno opens the sliding glass doors that open out into the terrace and steps across the threshold, and Jaemin understands what Jeno wants to do.

“I was thinking that we could talk out here. It’s nice out tonight,” Jeno starts once they’re both outside. It’s cool outside, not too warm and not too cold, but Jaemin feels himself start to warm up when Jeno looks back at him, an inscrutable expression on his face. “And I have some things I want to say to you.”

“Sure,” Jaemin says, his voice suddenly hoarse, and when Jeno takes his hand and leads him into the center of the terrace to walk around the pool, he follows. Jeno’s hand is cold, and Jaemin tries to warm it with his own, rubbing his thumb into Jeno’s palm.

Jeno’s quiet for a few minutes after they’ve stopped, and when he finally speaks up, he doesn’t look at Jaemin. “Did you want this? This.” He looks up and gestures at the two of them, at the space between them. “Us. Be honest and don’t lie to me. I’ll know.”

Jaemin swallows. There’s no way he can lie to Jeno like this, when Jeno is staring up at him with an indecipherable gaze. “No, not at the beginning, but I didn’t really care,” he finally says. “But it wasn’t like it was what I had planned, you know? I only did it because my parents wanted me to.”

“Me too,” Jeno admits. “I didn’t like you a little bit in the beginning, but that was only because Donghyuck told me he thought you came off as a jerk at some auction before. I thought my parents were insane, and I hated them a little bit, too. I’m glad I didn’t let that mess with how I treated you.”

“You did?” Jaemin asks, and Jeno nods. Jaemin laughs, shaky and high. “You totally fooled me. When did you start— not? Not hating me?”

“Pretty much the second you opened your mouth. I realized I was being shitty and judgmental, and I was just looking for someone to blame. You know, I always thought that I’d end up in an arranged marriage like this. Being a beta is fine if you’re normal, but in our world? It does nothing for you if you want to keep climbing up the ladder. It’s just,” and Jeno reaches upward with his free hand to muss up his hair, “frustrating. I thought I was going to be used and thrown away, and I hated my parents so much for that. I was prepared to hate my life. But then it was you.”

“Me?”

“You’re an alpha. You’re hot. You’re popular. I expected you not to even show up and just fuck off to your girlfriend or boyfriend’s place, and I was going to be totally fine with that. It happens, you know. Where some people are stuck in a marriage they don’t want and end up having people on the side. I didn’t want that, but I didn’t know if I would even have the choice.”

“I would never,” Jaemin says, and Jeno squeezes his hand.

“I know that now. On the first day we met for real, you made me food and even showed me how to do it instead of getting mad that I messed things up. You watched anime with me and didn’t laugh when I cried at some scenes. And then you even made the effort to get to know my friends, and you let me meet your friends, and I don’t know. You made me feel comfortable being myself, and I don’t know how I can ever repay you for that. You’re really something else, Jaemin. I don’t know if I could ever find anyone else like you.”

Jaemin’s throat is tight, and his voice comes out in a whisper when he says, “You won’t have to. You’re stuck with me forever. That was what was agreed on. No take backs, forever period.”

Jeno laughs, and he turns to fully face Jaemin. He’s beautiful, the shine in his eyes mimicking the lights of the Seoul skyline below them and the glow of the moon and the stars above them. It’s happening, Jaemin thinks, and he watches as Jeno leans in, watches as Jeno closes his eyes. Jeno’s hands have moved to grip Jaemin’s arms, and he puts his hands on Jeno’s sides. There’s nowhere left for them to go, and he leans downward to meet Jeno in the middle, and—

Jaemin slips on a wet patch of concrete, probably caused by water from the pool sloshing around, and he falls backward, the cold water hitting him in all of his senses like he’s just been punched, and because he’d had his arms around Jeno, he accidentally pulls Jeno in with him. The pool isn’t too deep here, but it’s deep enough to make them both struggle to get back to the shallow end, and when he sees Jeno standing across from him, his hair sticking to his face and his shirt stuck onto his body, all he can do is laugh.

“Oh my god,” Jaemin says. “I’m so sorry. You were trying to let us have a real moment there, but I completely ruined it. Oh my god.”

Jeno wades closer, and he lets out a melodramatic sigh. “Figures. Of course my first kiss had to end up like this.”

Jaemin’s train of thought comes to a screeching halt. “Wait, this is your first kiss? Really? You’ve never kissed anyone? Really?”

“Yes, yes, no, and don’t be mean,” Jeno answers in order, petulantly crossing his arms over his chest. “Wasn’t it obvious?”

Jaemin’s still too absorbed in his own mental parade that he’s going to be the first person to have ever kissed Jeno. Nice.

“No,” he says absently, and he reaches out for Jeno, to pull him closer. “Come here.”

“The moment is ruined,” Jeno says, trying to wrench his arm out of Jaemin’s grasp. “It’s ruined forever.”

“No, come back. It’ll be fine. Don’t worry, we’ll make it a good one. It doesn’t have to be perfect, it just has to be us.”

“You’ll have to show me,” Jeno starts, and there’s the barest hint of a smile crossing his face. Jaemin could watch him smile for the rest of his life, could teach him everything that he ever needs to know.

“Good,” Jaemin says, and Jeno comes even closer until he’s pressed up next to Jaemin, and even though they’re both soaked, the cool night air compounding the effect of just how chilly they are in the pool, Jaemin feels so, so warm. Jeno smiles up at him, that smile that makes his eyes turn into the crescent moons that Jaemin loves so much, and Jaemin brushes a thumb over Jeno’s cheekbones and cups his cheeks and leans in.

Jeno’s lips are soft against Jaemin’s, and Jaemin keeps his lips firmly closed and pulls Jeno to him, his arms tightening around Jeno’s waist. Jeno’s hand comes up to play with Jaemin’s hair, and when they pull apart, Jeno leans his forehead against Jaemin’s and says, with that same intoxicatingly bright smile on his face, “I’m not drunk right now, so I’ll definitely remember this. Thanks for not letting me kiss you yesterday.”

“I thought you said you didn’t remember anything from that night,” Jaemin hisses, but there’s no bite behind it at all. “I thought you said you only remembered going to the bathroom.”

“I lied. Guess I’m just a good actor.” Jeno grins. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Jaemin kisses Jeno again, just to shut him up, and he lets Jeno experiment this time. He feels Jeno bite lightly at his lower lip before he laps at it, swiping his tongue across Jaemin’s lips. Jeno gets bolder the longer they kiss for, lapping into Jaemin’s mouth, and when they break apart again, Jeno’s flushed, his lips parted prettily, and Jaemin doesn’t think that he’ll ever be able to forget this moment.

“How do you feel?” Jaemin whispers against Jeno’s lips, and Jeno smiles. Jaemin reaches up to brush a wet lock of hair behind Jeno’s ear, and Jeno covers Jaemin’s hand with his own.

“I’m cold,” Jeno announces, and he sneezes in Jaemin’s face.

Unsurprisingly, Jeno ends up getting sick, which means that Jaemin catches it as well, which means that they spend the next week sniffling and sneezing around the apartment. It’s miserable, having to stay at least a meter away from Jeno the entire week, and when his nose finally clears up, it feels like heaven. Scratch that, Jaemin thinks after he’s gotten the chance to kiss Jeno again— that feels like heaven.

One day, when Jaemin comes home from school, there’s a large package waiting for him at the counter. It’s heavy, so he ends up having to drag it into the elevator, and he stares at it the entire time. He hasn’t ordered anything online, but his name is on the address line. He has a sudden thought that someone might be trying to kill him, but he dismisses it just as quickly as it had appeared in his brain. He’s not important enough to warrant a hit on him yet, but he hopes that by the time he’s older, he’ll be rich and famous enough for people to want him dead.

He lugs the package into their place, and Jeno looks over from where he’s been doing homework at the coffee table. “Oh! It’s here!”

“What is it?” Jaemin asks as Jeno comes over with a scissor and starts opening the package. “Did you buy something?”

“Yup,” Jeno says, and he pulls out a keyboard from all of the packing peanuts, and Jaemin’s heart very nearly stops beating. “Didn’t you play piano before? I was thinking we could play together.”

They end up setting the keyboard on the dinner table because Jeno hadn’t had the foresight to order a stand for it, and Jeno excuses himself to dig his violin out from his closet. A wooden chair makes a sloppy excuse for a leather piano bench, but it’s all they have, so Jaemin turns the keyboard on and familiarizes himself with the way the keys feel underneath his fingers.

“Why did you get this?” Jaemin asks when Jeno comes back and starts to rosin his bow. He does some trills and chords, tries to remember as much as he can of his few years of formal lessons. “I mean, you already said you wanted to play together, but why?”

Jeno cocks his head to the side. “I just wanted to do something for you, and I can’t cook for shit, so. Here you go. You said you hadn’t played in a while, so I thought it might be fun to try to relearn together, since I haven’t played violin in a long time, too.”

Jeno draws his bow across the strings of his violin, and it makes an awful, awful noise, and they both wince at the same time.

“Baby steps,” Jeno says, despondent. “Baby steps.”

Five minutes of playing that would make Mozart, Beethoven, Vivaldi, and Clementi all roll over in their graves later, Jaemin decides fuck it all and pulls Jeno and his violin into his lap.

“This isn’t playing, Jaemin,” Jeno says, frowning down at Jaemin, and Jaemin reaches over to pull the violin and bow from Jeno’s hands and to set them both on the table.

“Let’s be honest here. Neither was what we were just doing,” Jaemin says, sweet. “So just get down here so I can kiss you.”

Jaemin’s been trying to teach Jeno how to kiss, and not only is Jeno a quick learner, he’s also enthusiastic as fuck, so Jaemin isn’t about to complain. The chair’s uncomfortable, though, so when Jeno pulls back and leans his forehead against Jaemin’s and asks if he wants to move over to the couch, Jaemin readily agrees. His back hurts.

Jeno gets off of him and pulls him to his feet, and once they get close enough, Jeno pushes Jaemin down onto the side of the couch before clambering onto the couch to straddle Jaemin’s hips. He licks into Jaemin’s mouth, and Jaemin cards his fingers through Jeno’s hair before he realizes that there’s something in their way. He stops, pulls back to stare at Jeno, and Jaemin can see the question in Jeno’s eyes before he reaches up to pull Jeno’s glasses away from his face and snaps them closed. He shifts a little to tuck them into the back pocket of his pants, and Jeno wrinkles his nose.

“I can’t see you,” Jeno whines, squinting down at Jaemin and fisting his hands in Jaemin’s shirt. “Why’d you do that.”

“Come closer then,” Jaemin says, and Jeno doesn’t need to be told twice. He leans in again, and Jaemin’s lips part underneath his, and Jaemin reaches up to pull Jeno down even more until they’re pressed flush against one another. Jaemin’s hands find their way underneath Jeno’s shirt, his fingers splaying across Jeno’s stomach, and he whines, high and keening, into Jaemin’s mouth and—

A sharp crack sounds out.

Jeno pulls away from Jaemin, horror in his eyes, and Jaemin doesn’t even need to shift around to feel the broken pieces of Jeno’s glasses in his back pocket. He winces.

“Asshole,” Jeno breathes out, “those were a million won and Gucci.”

The good news is that only the frames were broken, with the glass itself only getting chipped, and getting a pair of new replacement frames should take no longer than a week.

The bad news is that Jeno doesn’t have any spare glasses, so when he’s at home and doesn’t want to put on his contacts, he’s effectively blind. This and the fact that Jeno hates wearing contacts at home come together to create a situation that Jaemin takes full advantage of. He follows Jaemin around if he doesn’t have his own business to attend to, and honestly? It’s extremely fucking cute, and Jaemin may or may not have already screamed at Renjun and Chenle and Jisung and anyone else who’d been willing to listen about how adorable Jeno was with his fingers tugging at the hem of Jaemin’s shirt the night before.

“Hey, Jaemin,” Jeno says the next morning, squinting at Jaemin and holding out his mug. “Give me some coffee. I want some sugar in it, too.”

“C’mere,” Jaemin says, beckoning Jeno over so he can take the mug and pour some coffee into it. The sugar and the salt are in identical containers, and Jaemin has to look closely at the containers before picking out the right one. Then he gets an idea.

Jaemin sets the container of sugar down on the counter before he takes Jeno’s wrist and spins him around, pinning him against the kitchen counter. Jeno stares up at him in the way that only someone denied his morning coffee can, and he says, flatly, “What do you want.”

“Before I give you your sugar,” Jaemin purrs, leaning in close enough that he knows Jeno can see him clearly and staring down at Jeno’s lips, “how about you give me some first, babe?”

Jeno kicks him in the shin, grabs the container, dumps an unholy amount of sugar in his coffee, and walks away.

In retrospect, Jaemin’s life has been going far too well the past month and a half. It’s only natural that things are destined to blow up in his face the second he starts to care too much about them.

About a week later, when Jaemin’s coming home, he gets this strange tightening in his gut, one that he ignores the entire ride up to the top floor, and then he realizes, belatedly, that he should really listen to his gut more. There’s a tall guy standing in front of their door, and Jeno has his arms wrapped around the guy’s shoulders. The guy leans down to kiss Jeno on the forehead before pulling away. “I’ll see you in a few, okay? Take care.”

Jaemin’s left with more questions than answers when the guy brushes past him and heads back down in the elevator, and he tries to keep his utter confusion from showing when he looks at Jeno. “Who’s that?”

“Just a friend,” Jeno says, wrapping his fingers around Jaemin’s wrist and pulling him inside. He presses his lips to Jaemin’s cheek, and his eyes are bright when he pulls back. “How was your day?”

Better before whatever that was happened, Jaemin thinks, but he plasters a grin on his face. Jeno’s not usually this secretive about his friends, and how he behaved just now has Jaemin wondering. “Good, good.”

“Okay, well. Mom says she wants us to go to this art exhibit thing this weekend, so are you free?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin says, autopilot. “I am.”

Chapter Text

Jaemin decides to pay Jisung a visit, the way he always has when he needs someone to vent to. He texts Jeno that he’ll be coming home a little bit late, and he takes the subway down to Seoul Station instead of heading back the way he normally does. He stops by the bubble tea place next door and gets a tea before he pops into the studio. Jisung’s there, as always, and Jaemin sits down on the ground and waits for him to finish up.

“Hyung,” Jisung says once he’s done, trotting over to where Jaemin’s already made himself into a ball on the ground. “What’s up?”

“The gummy bear isn’t here today?” Jaemin asks, drawing a lazy circle in the studio floor.

Jisung wrinkles his nose. “You mean Chenle? He said he was busy with some family things and couldn’t come hang with me this week.”

“Good,” Jaemin says, placated. He pats the space on the floor next to him. “Sit down, I have to talk to you.”

“What’s up?” Jisung asks, settling down next to Jaemin. He searches Jaemin’s face for a hint before he gasps. “Hyung, is there something going on between you and Jeno-hyung? What’s wrong? What did you do to him?”

Jisung’s always, always been far too perceptive for his own good. It’s usually a fact that Jaemin brags to anyone who will listen about, but he’s starting to regret ever coming here. “We’re not having problems. We’re doing just fine. Just fucking peachy,” Jaemin says, defensive. “Also, why do you always assume it’s me who starts things?”

Jisung nods sagely. “So you are having problems.”

“I think he’s cheating on me,” Jaemin says, dropping his head into his hands, and damn if it doesn’t feel good to say it out loud, to voice the thoughts that have been running through his head the entire night. “There was someone in our apartment and he gave Jeno a kiss when he left and when I asked Jeno about it later, he just told me it was a friend of his. Jeno always tells me everything, so it was weird that he was being all cagey about it. But what kind of friend kisses another without it being super romantic? I’ve never kissed you, Jisung. Ever. And that’s because I’m not in love with you.”

“I think maybe you should ask him about this person again,” Jisung says, slowly and carefully. “What if it’s all just a big misunderstanding? Maybe if you ask him about it he’s going to think that you’re accusing him of something he’s not really doing? I don’t know, but I really don’t think Jeno-hyung would ever cheat on you. He likes you a lot, Jaemin-hyung. Really.”

“Really?”

“Donghyuck-hyung told me once that Jeno-hyung talks about you so much that he feels like he’s about to fall in love with you just from hearing so much about how you cook for him and take care of him. I mean, obviously, he would never actually fall in love with you, but Jeno-hyung even tells me about how much he likes you.” Jisung taps a finger on his lips. “It’s weird that he’d be letting other people into your apartment, though. Didn’t you say that not that many people even know about it? I guess it’s strange that this total random guy has already been into your apartment when not even I have.”

“Right?” Jaemin hisses, trying to ignore the persistent flutter in his chest that keeps threatening to make a comeback whenever Jisung mentions how much Jeno talks about him. He’s a man on a mission, and he’s not about to be swayed by some feelings. “That’s weird and fucked up. I’m so glad you agree with me.”

“That’s not what I said, hyung.”

“What is Jeno doing letting other people get their paws all over him? We’ve only made out, like, twenty times. I’m a fucking great kisser. He can’t possibly be bored of me already. Do you think it’s a money thing? The other guy did look really expensive. He also looks really old. What if Jeno’s really just into older men and he’s only going along with this marriage thing because his parents want him to?”

“Hyung, I think you might be overreacting.”

“I’m not overreacting, so never say that again. Listen, not even Renjun and Chenle have been to my place, so I think it’s pretty fucked up that he decided to bring some guy over without even asking me about it. It’s a shared space, not a studio. I mean, I guess it is his family’s house, but—” Jaemin cuts himself off. But I thought it was our home, he’d been meaning to say, but it feels too raw, too real, to be saying out loud like this. So he decides to change the subject. “Speaking of which, though, Jisung. Do you want to come by sometime?”

“Dunno,” Jisung says. “I think you should ask Jeno-hyung more about the guy when you see him next. Hopefully it’ll help you two clear up some of your problems. I really want you guys to make it. I like you so much, Jaemin-hyung, and I want you to be happy. Jeno-hyung, too. I’ll never say this again, even if you beg me to, so make sure you remember it.”

“Aw,” Jaemin coos, reaching forward to pinch Jisung’s cheek and tug it outward. Jisung scrunches up his entire face, and, god, Jisung’s face is so elastic, it’s like pulling a piece of mochi apart. “You’re so cute.”

“You didn’t listen to anything I just said, did you.”

“Barely,” Jaemin chirps. “But I’ll be fine. I’ll just ask Jeno about this mystery beau of his when we get the time to, and it’ll be fine. Everything will be just fucking awesome as always. Thanks for the talk, Jisung.”

Jisung waves at him as he skips out the door, but once he gets far away enough, he drops the act. There’s probably a logical explanation for this. He knows he’s probably overreacting, but this development’s been too consistent with the pattern of everything else that’s happened to him in life. He’s gotten used to the wanting and the having and then having everything taken away from him in one fell swoop.

He speed skated for years until an injury forced him to quit. He played piano for years before familial duties forced him to quit. And now this— this tenuous thing that he has with Jeno.

He can’t stop thinking that this, too, is going to end up as just a memory of the past.

Jaemin barely sees Jeno at all the entire week. He’s been suspiciously absent, leaving for school early and coming back home late, and Jaemin doesn’t know what to do without him in his life. It’s strange waking up without Jeno stumbling around the kitchen looking for coffee, without Jeno sitting with him to watch the latest episodes of his teenage superhero anime, without Jeno tumbling him down onto the couch to kiss him silly. Jaemin feels like an idiot, missing Jeno this much when they’ve only really known each other for a few months, but Jeno’s already made himself a part of Jaemin’s life.

He stays up late one night to wait for Jeno to come home, but he ends up falling asleep at the coffee table, slumped over on his homework. He wakes up the next morning with a blanket draped over his shoulders and Jeno’s backpack and shoes gone, and after that, he decides to stop waiting.

The first text that Jeno sends him in over a week is one letting him know that I’ll be heading to the art show on my own tonight, but I’ll see you there, and Jaemin barely restrains himself from texting i miss u and i love u so much. Jaemin closes the chat before he feels the urge to respond with something that sounds too desperate. Two can play this game. He’s in class when he finally decides to respond with a k, and when Renjun sighs in pity and pats Jaemin’s head like he does to Chenle, he slaps his hand away.

Jaemin almost doesn’t even go to the art show, but it’s hosted by one of his own close family friends as well, so he dresses up and heads over to the gallery that Saturday. It’s a fairly decent gallery, one with works by newer and up-and-coming artists, and Jaemin spends a good twenty minutes milling around a particularly interesting piece juxtaposing the Haeundae sand with the sea. He’s moved on to a painting of spider flowers when he notices a familiar silhouette out of the corner of his eye.

It’s Jeno, and he’s hanging off the arm of the guy Jaemin saw him with before, and all Jaemin can feel is that ugly, ugly emotion coiling in his gut again.

Jeno doesn’t even look like he wants to be there, and as the guy starts walking over to where Jaemin is, the expression on Jeno’s face morphs into something like panic.

“Hi,” the guy says, extending his hand out to Jaemin, and Jaemin takes it, trying to figure out where he’s seen this guy before. The watch on the guy’s wrist is criminally expensive. Even Chenle had balked at the price when they’d been looking for watches a few weeks ago. “I’m Kim Dongyoung, but you can call me Doyoung if you’d like.”

The last puzzle piece clicks into place. He’s seen Doyoung’s face next to Jeno’s in some press releases, and he guesses that this is why he’s been acting so friendly with Jeno. Jeno’s mentioned Doyoung to him before, usually in the context of how Doyoung used to babysit Jeno after school when he was growing up. Jaemin’s just never really expected to meet him this soon, or ever, if he’s being honest.

“Hi. I’m Jaemin, as you probably already know.”

“Yeah, Jeno’s told me a lot about you,” Doyoung says, grinning down at Jaemin. There’s a wide and gummy smile on his face, but Jaemin feels, oddly enough, like he’s prey being chased down by a predator. “Sorry about this week. I’ve been stealing his time away, I’m sure you’ve noticed. I just wanted a chance to catch up with him, you know?”

He’s not sorry at all. Jaemin’s had a lifetime of learning to read people, to read what’s written on their faces to discern their true thoughts, and there’s nothing that Doyoung’s smile is telling him more than abject disapproval. Jaemin can live with Doyoung’s disapproval, but hearing that Doyoung had been with Jeno this entire week does nothing to soothe his nerves. If anything, he’s even more on edge now, and he feels his alpha burn with possessiveness.

“So, Jaemin. Tell me more about yourself,” Doyoung says, his smile still knife-sharp, and Jaemin remembers, suddenly, that Doyoung is in law school. He wonders if this is how he conducts himself during mock trials, how he gets answers out of people. “I just want to know all about you.”

“Hyung, stop,” Jeno says, a note of quiet warning in his voice. He tugs at Doyoung’s sleeve, insistent, pleading. “Hyung, you promised.”

“What’s wrong? I can’t be just a little interested in the kid I’m handing you over to? I’m just asking him a question, it’s not like I’m hurting him or anything.”

“Hyung, I told you to lay off, I told you that I’m fine. We’re okay, I told you, so please. Just stop.”

“Listen,” Doyoung starts, and his smile twists, acidic and cutting when he turns it on Jaemin, “I think I’ve already made my point on this quite clear during our conversations this past week. I’m not happy with this arrangement of yours. We both know you could really do better than him, Jeno. Someone not as— unrestrained as he is, perhaps.”

Jaemin’s heart sinks.

Jeno’s eyes are wide, and when he notices that Jaemin’s staring at him, he reaches out to grab Jaemin’s arm. He’s not fast enough. Jaemin’s already brushed past him, weaving past the other attendees and beelining straight for the exit. Jeno catches up to him outside, and Jaemin whirls around when Jeno grabs Jaemin’s jacket.

“What? Are you sure you should be here? With someone as unrestrained as I am?” Jaemin spits out. He’s breathing heavily, and his fists involuntarily ball up at his sides. He forces himself to unclench his hands, to relax.

“He didn’t mean that, I swear, I’m sorry, Jaemin. He’s just a little bit worried about me since we’ve known each other for a long time, that’s all, please just come back. He doesn’t really think you’re. You know. Like that.” Jeno steps forward, his hand outstretched, and Jaemin steps backward, shaking his head. Jeno looks broken, and Jaemin hates that he’d been the one to put that expression on his face, but—

“You didn’t even bother to say anything to defend me. To defend us. Maybe you really would be better off with someone else, if you’re that concerned about what your precious Doyoung-hyung thinks about you,” Jaemin breathes out, and he wrenches his jacket out of Jeno’s grasp. “I think I need some time away from you.”

Jaemin walks away, and for once, Jeno lets him.

When Renjun opens his door and sees Jaemin standing there in a suit and tie, he only sighs before ushering Jaemin inside. It’s just a student apartment, one that Renjun’s parents have set him up in as he finishes up school, but there’s a couch, and that’s all Jaemin needs. He goes straight to it, collapsing face down onto the couch and sighing, and Renjun perches delicately on the arm of the couch.

“Rough night?” Renjun asks, and Jaemin lifts his head just enough to stare at him.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Jaemin says, burying his face into the couch cushion before realizing that there’s no way he can keep this to himself. He’ll break if he doesn’t vent. “I think Jeno and I are breaking up. Maybe? Oh god.”

“Why? What did you do? Oh, it wasn’t you, was it? What did he do?”

Jaemin sighs again, and he sits up, scooting over and patting the cushion next to him so Renjun can slide down onto it. “Do you know Kim Dongyoung? Doyoung? That hotshot lawyer kid?”

“I think I’ve heard of him before. His name sounds a little familiar.” Renjun pulls out his phone, clearly looking him up, before he turns his attention back onto Jaemin. “What’s he got to do with this?”

“He’s Jeno’s old babysitter or some shit, and he’s been coming over and monopolizing Jeno this entire week, and no, that is not why I’ve been cranky this week. Shut up. We were at this fancy-ass art exhibit tonight, and Jeno came with Doyoung, and I don’t know. He started being really hostile. He asked me stuff about myself, and Jeno seemed like he didn’t want Doyoung to talk to me at all, and I get that maybe he didn’t want me to make a fool of myself in front of someone he respects, but still.”

Jaemin puts his chin into his hands and looks Renjun dead in the eyes.

“Doyoung told me to my face he didn’t think I was good enough for Jeno, and Jeno didn’t even bother to try to defend me, so I guess that shows just how much faith he has in me, huh?” Jaemin laughs, an empty sound. “I can’t tell what’s worse: if he didn’t say anything because he just respects this guy too much to do anything that’ll make him upset, or if it’s because he just thinks I’m not worth defending.”

“Maybe there’s a third reason?” Renjun starts, just a little hesitant. “Look, I’m not trying to say what you’re thinking is wrong, but you guys have been getting along so well. Maybe he just froze up. Couldn’t think of what to say. It happens to the best of us.”

“Nah. You don’t know him like I do,” Jaemin says, and Renjun frowns. “Stop giving me that look.”

“Alright, cut the shit, what’s this really about?”

Jaemin stares at Renjun, exasperated, before he lets out a nervous laugh. “I don’t want to lose this,” he admits. “Like, listen, you’re great and all, but Jeno? I really like him. I don’t want to fuck this up.”

“You’re not going to,” Renjun says. He pats Jaemin on the head, and Jaemin exhales. “I don’t think you’d ever fuck something like this up intentionally. But just because I don’t think he’s completely in the wrong doesn’t mean you should just go running off to make amends.”

“What? Why?”

“You should stay here for a bit. I’ll give you a pillow and blanket, just stay here for as long as you need to. You guys have spent way too long together, so I think it’ll be good if you had some time apart for once. Take some time off and think things through.” Renjun gets up off of the couch and dusts the cushion off. “I really only want the best for you. Just say the word and I’ll rearrange Jeno’s face for you.”

“Aw,” Jaemin simpers. “What did I ever do to deserve someone like you in my life?”

“You’ve been a good friend to me these past years,” Renjun says, and he heads into his bedroom before reappearing and pelting a pillow at Jaemin. “The least I could do is to return the favor.”

Jaemin spends the week crashing on Renjun’s couch. He has twenty unread texts and three missed calls from Jeno, and he deletes the notifications as soon as he gets them. The only thing that keeps him from grabbing his phone and sending Jeno fifty texts is the knowledge that Jeno ignored him for a week just before. He might as well try to make it for as long as he can.

After just a day, he’s already begun to miss their apartment, and it’s a fact that Jaemin doesn’t particularly want to admit to himself. He misses the annoyingly strict security policies in their complex, the lump in the middle cushion of their couch, all of their assorted stuffed animals that sit next to Nana on Jeno’s bed, and most of all, the presence Jeno’s already made for himself in Jaemin’s life.

He’s tired of wearing Renjun’s clothes to sleep and to school since everything is too small and nothing fits him well, and Renjun doesn’t take his orders in the kitchen quite as obediently as Jeno does. More than that, though, he’s constantly thrown off by just how wrong everything feels to him. He’s gotten too used to waking up and getting to sling an easy arm around Jeno’s shoulders, and he misses all of Jeno’s habits, even the ones that used to annoy him. He even misses Jeno’s admittedly strange penchant for sniffing Jaemin’s hair.

Jaemin goes home on a Saturday evening after Renjun’s treated him to burgers and milkshakes “just in case things go south.”

The penthouse is dark when he enters, but he can tell by Jeno’s shoes in the foyer that he’s inside. A cursory sweep of the first floor tells him that Jeno’s not in his room or on the living room couch, and as he walks through the hallway, Jaemin feels the anger and the emotions he’d kept bottled up inside of him start to drain away. He’s just tired now, and he wants to stop feeling this way. He can see a light coming from outside as soon as he gets to the top of the stairs, and he makes his way through the doors to the pool.

Jeno’s sitting at the edge of the pool, his feet dangling in the water, and he doesn’t look up when Jaemin approaches. “You came back.”

Jaemin swallows. “I’m back.”

“You can sit down if you want,” Jeno says, still looking at the water, and Jaemin rolls up his pants before taking a seat next to Jeno and dipping his feet into the water. They’re close enough for Jaemin to want to reach out and touch Jeno, but Jaemin’s left a space between them, a distance that mirrors the gap he feels has only grown more and more over the past few weeks. But he still remembers all of the days and nights they’ve spent together, all of the things they’ve done and said to one another, and he can’t keep this up anymore.

“I overreacted. I’m sorry,” Jaemin says, keeping his eyes trained firmly on the surface of the water, and he feels the shift in the air as Jeno looks over. “I’m sorry for getting so mad at you when it wasn’t even your fault your Doyoung-hyung was such an asshole.”

Jeno laughs, quiet and small. “No, it was my fault. I’m sorry. I was just. I didn’t know what to say in response, and I’m sorry. I didn’t think he’d actually be like that to you, and I should’ve let you know beforehand that he’d be that way. He’s always been a little bit overprotective of me, ever since I was a kid. He’s just kind of intense sometimes. Law students and all that.”

“Some advance warning would’ve been nice, I think. It really felt like I was a criminal on the interrogation stand. Remind me never to commit a crime and then have him prosecute me, yeah?” Jaemin sobers up. The night sky is reflected in the dark water, the stars dancing across the surface. “I shouldn’t have left, though. I mean, I just up and left like that. Now that I think about it, that was kinda shitty of me, huh?”

“A little,” Jeno agrees, “but it’s not like I didn’t do the same to you. I’m sorry for not standing up for you when I should’ve.”

“Yeah,” Jaemin says, and he looks over at Jeno. Jeno’s eyes are bright, luminescent in the moonlight and the starlight, and his hand is on the ground between them. “But I was thinking this week while we were apart, and I have some things I want to say to you.”

“You? Thinking? That’s a first.”

“Shut up, I’m trying to be sentimental here, but it’s totally up to you if you want me to can it. Do you want to hear it or not?”

“Go ahead. Be as sentimental as you want to,” Jeno laughs, his eyes crinkling, and Jaemin reaches for his hand, twines their fingers together. “I’ve already spilled, I guess it’s your turn now.”

“Ugh, fine. I don’t think I had time to walk you through my embarrassing childhood yet, but let’s just say that I’ve had a bit of a problem with, uh. Abandonment. It’s not as bad as what you’re probably thinking, but I was just kind of lonely as a kid and I got everything I ever really liked taken from me in the end. Again, not as dramatic as what you’re probably thinking. It was just small stuff, like piano and speed skating. My only hobbies, really, but still. Not that bad.”

“That’s alright. You were alone for so long. It’s okay that you felt like that,” Jeno whispers, running his thumb over Jaemin’s knuckles.

“But then I met you.” Jaemin feels Jeno’s fingers tighten around his. “Well, I don’t know if you remember, but we first met when we were little kids. Once we met again, you were the first person who didn’t treat me like I was special. I had a lot of fun with you, and you tried hard to make me feel comfortable in your own home. And you didn’t fuck up my recipes the way Renjun and Chenle always do. That’s a plus, by the way. I really, really liked you. Like you. Not past tense. I still do like you, don’t worry.”

“I hope so,” Jeno says, and he gives Jaemin a reassuring smile that he can’t return quite yet.

“Okay, okay. I guess what I’m trying to say here is that first, I got upset when I saw you with Doyoung that first day. And then I got jealous you were spending so much time with him. And then that night at the art exhibit, it all just came to a head and I felt like you were throwing me away. So yeah. It was selfish and I’m sorry for walking away like that, but I was just frustrated and needed some time to think.” Jaemin looks back up at Jeno, and he feels a small smile tugging at the edges of his lips. “But if you’ll have me, I’m back.”

“Of course. I never wanted you because you were hot or smart or an alpha, or any of that. I wanted you because you were you,” Jeno says, and he lets go of Jaemin’s hand. Jaemin misses the warmth for just a second before Jeno moves closer to cup Jaemin’s face in his hands. He rubs his thumbs over Jaemin’s cheekbones before he leans in to press his forehead against Jaemin’s. “No matter what happens, I’ll always take you back. Barring, you know, really bad things. Like saying Genos didn’t deserve another story arc.”

“Genos didn’t deserve another story arc,” Jaemin whispers, and Jeno pulls back and swats at his arm.

“That’s not even funny,” Jeno says, mock affront written all over his face. “Sorry, though, I really, really should’ve warned you about Doyoung-hyung. I tried to talk him out of it that week, but he was just so persistent. I even told him you were chill and all that. Didn’t pressure me into anything, didn’t do anything I didn’t want to. Stuff like that.”

“Did you tell him about all the nasty bits? Is that why he hates me?”

Jeno wrinkles his nose. “He doesn’t hate you. He’s just kind of leery of new people. And, god no, I’d never tell him anything that I couldn’t tell a little kid, okay? I just said you were an all around good guy. We’ve never even kissed before, and we only hug on Sundays after church. At least, that’s what he thinks.”

“There’s no way that he believes that. We don’t even go to church. Your lies are, honestly, most definitely why he hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you!” Jeno insists, and he reaches behind him to take out a small envelope and brandish it in Jaemin’s face. “He even wrote you a letter!”

“He did?” Jaemin takes it, handling it the way he would hold a historical document. “Should I be scared?”

“No, he said he felt bad about scaring you off. He’s a good person, I swear. He’s just a little intense. Sorry you had to see that side of him, but he said he really was sorry. I told him he didn’t have to write you an entire letter, but apparently he’s had it drafted for a while now. Turn it around, god, he’s so much sometimes.”

The envelope is addressed to Jaemin, his residence listed as the penthouse complex they’re in, and when Jaemin flips the envelope over, there’s a seal affixed to the back of the envelope in golden wax.

“Gold for Kim, get it? I swear he thought he was being clever or something.” Jeno sighs. “I don’t know what he said in it, but you might want to read it sometime. He swore on a baby picture of me that there was nothing mean in it, so it better be good.”

“Alrighty then. Guess I’ll have to take your word for it,” Jaemin says, tucking the envelope into his back pocket. “Also, baby picture? I’d love to see it someday, just saying.”

“Shut up,” Jeno mutters. “I’ll show it to you, but on the condition that you never breathe a word of it to anyone ever again.”

Wait.

“How did you know to bring the letter? How did you know I was going to come back tonight? Not that I don’t believe you would sit out here on any random night, but this seems a little staged.”

Jeno grins at him, and that tells Jaemin all he needs to know. “Your friend Renjun texted me, and he said you were coming back today. Plus an excited Kakao sticker or ten. You know, we’ve been getting along really well. Now, where were we?”

“You were in the middle of professing your undying love for me,” Jaemin says helpfully, trying to forget that Jeno and Renjun are apparently friends now, oh god, and Jeno gives him a look that means he was anything but.

“Eh. You’re alright, I guess,” Jeno says, and he leans in to press a kiss against the corner of Jaemin’s mouth. “Just kidding. Like I said, you’re pretty cool.”

“You think so?” Jaemin asks, and he ducks his head down, noses against the column of Jeno’s neck, and sucks a bruise into the junction of his neck and his shoulder. Jeno’s gasp is music to his ears, and he breathes in the familiar scent of lavender. “What about now?”

“We switch to our summer uniforms this week,” Jeno whines, but he tugs Jaemin up. “You’re awful.”

“That’s what I like to hear. You absolutely cannot tell Doyoung about any of this, you hear?”

“Nah, wasn’t planning on it anyway. There are just some things I’d rather have to ourselves. You know. Just for you and me.” Jeno grins at Jaemin before he startles all of a sudden, going bug-eyed and wildly fishing around in his pockets. “Oh, holy shit, I almost forgot about this. Fuck, where is it? Oh no, don’t tell me it fell in the pool...”

Jaemin’s mouth goes dry when, after much scrambling and fumbling around, Jeno pulls a small box from his pocket.

“This is, um. Kind of a moot gesture, isn’t it? But I had a lot of time to myself this week, and I was thinking about us a lot. I know that we’re kind of stuck together now, but I just wanted you to know that even if this,” and Jeno waves his free hand around in the air, “if this thing didn’t exist, I’d still choose you. I’d still want to be with you. I’d still want to hold your hand and hug you and kiss you, and I’d still want to wake up next to you for the rest of my life. So, Na Jaemin.” Jeno pops the box open, and there’s a silver ring nestled inside on a bed of velvet, and Jaemin can’t breathe. “Will you marry me?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin breathes out, and when Jeno takes the ring and slips it on Jaemin’s finger, he’s at a complete loss for words. It’s nice, pretty and small and thin with a delicate design running around its circumference.

“Also, uh. Sorry if it doesn’t fit too nicely, I had to go into your room and steal one of your other rings to get your size. I don’t know if it’s right, though. We can always get them altered. Or get new ones. Whatever you want,” Jeno says, and he pulls out another box and holds it out for Jaemin to take. “I got one for myself, too. Put it on for me, will you?”

“Pushy,” Jaemin snorts. He stares at the ring Jeno’s bought for himself, an identical twin to Jaemin’s, and he takes Jeno’s outstretched hand, rubbing his thumb over the knobs of Jeno’s fingers. “Lee Jeno, I promise you these things. I’ll cook for you until we’re old and wrinkly and smell like cat pee, and I know you want to adopt a cat, so let’s get one. Why stop at one? Why not seven? Let’s get seven cats. Let’s go to art exhibits and laugh at all of the pretentious captions. If we’re not ready yet, let’s wait. We have all the time in the world, so let’s play it by ear, take it day by day. I’ll take care of you for as long as we live, so be good to be, okay?”

Jeno’s hand shakes when Jaemin slips the ring onto Jeno’s finger, and he mutters, “I’m always good to you.”

“Yeah,” Jaemin agrees, and he lifts his hand, brings it up next to Jeno’s. Their rings glint in the moonlight right next to their bracelets, and Jeno’s staring at him with honey in his eyes and in his smile, and Jaemin’s heart is three sizes too big. How far they’ve come. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Jeno smiles, threads his fingers into Jaemin’s hair, and holds him closer. “There’s no one I’d rather raise seven cats with, so have fun scooping cat poop with me for the rest of our lives.”

Jaemin leans in to press a kiss against Jeno’s mouth just to stop him from running his mouth even more. Jeno’s lips are hot against his and he tastes like strawberries and mint, and Jaemin curls a hand around Jeno’s hip, pressing his fingerprints into Jeno’s skin.

When Jaemin pulls Jeno closer and tugs him halfway onto his lap, he can feel Jeno’s smile, stretching wide and bright and beautiful, against his own, and Jaemin knows that there really is nothing else in this world that he wants more than this, right here, right now.

That night, Jaemin opens the envelope, carefully avoiding ripping the envelope as he breaks the seal. Jeno hadn’t been lying about Doyoung being too much sometimes; he’s sure that this cardstock he’d written on is more expensive than anything he’s ever used. He’ll never admit it, but his fingers tremble just slightly as he flips the card open.

Dear Jaemin,

Jeno told me I was being mean to you earlier this week at the exhibit. Sorry! I love him a lot, probably more than I love my own brother, so I just wanted to make sure you were a good guy. He hasn’t had a lot of experience in matters of the heart, so please forgive an old man’s protective nature. He tells me that you’ve been nice to him, though, so I’d like to apologize for earlier. I’m not really like that. Ask Jeno, I almost gave him cavities growing up because of how much candy and ice cream I bought him. But I digress. I was unfair to you, and I’d like to make it up to you. Enclosed is a photograph that I think you might like to have. Please don’t hesitate to call me at my personal cell phone number which I’ve written down on the back of this card if you ever need anything.

Best regards,
Kim Dongyoung

P.S.: If you hurt him, I will not hesitate to sue you and your family for everything you’ve got. Cheers!

A slip of paper falls out of the envelope once he shifts to put the card back in, and Jaemin bends down to pick it up.

It’s a photograph, and Jeno looks to be no older than ten in it. He’s wearing a grey sweater vest over a white shirt, and a messenger bag is slung over his shoulders. There’s a suspiciously familiar dog plush nestled in the crook of his elbow, and Jaemin realizes that he’s seen this plush lined up on Jeno’s bed next to Nana.

Jaemin flips the photograph over, and there’s a caption on it.

Thought you might like to have this! @.@

- DY

Jaemin smiles, a small and secret one, and he tucks the photograph and the card back into the envelope before setting it down on his desk and going outside to curl up against Jeno on the couch and catch up on everything they’ve missed.

He doesn’t need that photograph. When Jeno leans up to press a kiss against the corner of Jaemin’s jaw before throwing the blanket over his shoulders and twining their fingers together, Jaemin can feel the press of Jeno’s ring against his palm, and he knows that he already has everything he could ever want.

South Korean telecommunications chaebols CG and WYH announce merger, heirs to marry

By YEO SOO-BIN
Today

SEOUL, South Korea (AP) - Two of South Korea’s telecommunications chaebols, companies owned and run by families, are due to merge later this year, CG Group CEO Na Jae-ho said Sunday at a conference held with WYH Corporations to discuss the futures of their companies going forward.

WYH Corporations CEO Lee Tae-jong told reporters that the primary motivation for this merger was to consolidate their similar businesses, a move that was narrowly approved by the Financial Supervisory Service last month. His wife Nam A-reum, who works as a CEO of the company in conjunction with her husband, said that contributing factors were their close friendship with the owners of CG Group, as well as their desire to “retire comfortably on Jeju Island once we become old and grey.”

The merger is expected to take effect by the end of this year due to necessary adjustments to both chaebols’ roster of personnel and their planned acquisitions of other start-ups. Furthermore, they are expected to be re-examined by the Financial Supervisory Service on recommendation of the Minister of Finance. These issues are expected to delay the merger from their original date of August 7 to later in the year.

As an aside, Nam told sources that the heirs to the companies, CG Group’s Na Jae-min and WYH Corporations’ Lee Je-no, both currently finishing up their final year of high school, have moved their wedding from the planned date in the summer of next year to after the two graduate from university. It was a move that was heavily scrutinized by the financial world for a potential conflict of interest and by the general public for potentially impinging on the heirs’ rights, regardless of their designations, which have not yet been released publicly.

The postponement is not expected to affect the merger in any way, and Na Jae-ho said to reporters immediately following the commencement of the conference that he and his wife are “excited to see what the future has in store for us and our new and larger family.” Lee Tae-jong echoed his sentiments, and he expressed a desire to work closely together with the Na family to better South Korea’s financial prospects both domestically and overseas. The heirs are expected to contribute to their families’ businesses following their graduation from university and subsequent postgraduate plans. Na Jae-min has announced his intent to matriculate at Yonsei University, while Lee Je-no has been seen on the campus of Korea University. Both are expected to matriculate in the spring. 

Na Jae-min told a source that “I’m excited to see what the future holds. I think it’ll be something special. I can’t wait.”

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Associated Press writer Seo Yoon in Seoul contributed to this story.