Chapter Text
Lips, slightly chapped, melting against his own. Tongue, exploring every inch of his mouth, as if seeking treasure hidden within. Hands, one cupping the back of his head, the other gripping onto his collar, so tight that he can see the knuckles turning white.
Na Jaemin, invading every single one of his thoughts, stubbornly refusing to leave his mind no matter how hard he tries to forget everything that happened.
Renjun splashes his face with cold water, in a bid to get himself out of the zombie-like trance he'd been in ever since that day. He escaped into the school toilet to knock some sense into himself, after zoning out in class for the fifth time today. He shakes his head vigorously and the water trickles down his face, down to his neck and his white shirt.
After Jaemin had sauntered out of the classroom, Renjun spent twenty minutes collecting himself into a functioning state. He could barely keep himself sane, not when every time he blinked, it's Jaemin and his beguiling smirk that he sees, burned on the back of his eyelids.
It’s not that he hasn't been kissed before - being the school council president and also attractive as hell, he's had his fair share of admirers, girls and guys alike. But there's something about the teasing way Jaemin looks at him and how he kisses with the intent to bruise that sends a shiver down Renjun's spine. After the kiss, Renjun has seen Jaemin around in school a few times, but he hasn't gotten so much as a glance in his direction – and Renjun, being as prideful as he is, refuses to acknowledge Jaemin’s existence as well.
If Jaemin can pretend like nothing’s happened, well, so can he.
"Renjun?" He hears a voice call his name, low and chillingly familiar. Opening his eyes, he sees Jaemin standing beside him in the mirror, a mere arm’s length apart.
The memories he's been trying to suppress come flooding back.
Jaemin's looking at him with something like amusement, the hint of a smile playing on the corner of his lips, though he can't really be sure – nothing's ever certain when it comes to Jaemin.
Because Na Jaemin is the antithesis of all that Renjun aspires to be, the very embodiment of everything he loathes – sloppiness, tardiness, a disregard for rules and authority. He’s flippant and foolish and gets on Renjun’s nerves.
Renjun hates Jaemin, or he thought he did, until he came along and did that.
“What do you want?” His reply is curt as he grabs a tissue and busies himself with drying his hands and face. Jaemin smiles this time, all bright eyes and perfect teeth, and Renjun can almost be forgiven for thinking it’s genuine.
Jaemin’s eyes twinkle as he doesn’t answer, instead asking back, “What do you think?”
“I’ve got no time for games, Na Jaemin,” Renjun retorts, the bite in his tone harsh enough to cut. “Spit it out.” He’s aware that it’s a dangerous situation he’s in right now with Jaemin, and he should probably leave as soon as possible, but his feet are glued to the floor.
“On the contrary,” Jaemin chuckles, “we have all the time in the world.”
Just as Renjun’s about to ask him what he means, Jaemin grabs his wrist and he stumbles blindly along as the former pulls him into a cubicle and slams the door shut, locking it behind him. Renjun half-expects to be slammed against the wall but it doesn’t happen; instead, all he sees are Jaemin’s warm brown eyes looking back at him. Jaemin releases his grip on Renjun’s wrist to place his hands on his shoulders, and takes a step forward, gently pushing Renjun till his back touches the wall.
At least I see it coming this time, Renjun thinks, his eyelids fluttering shut as Jaemin cups his chin, lowering his head to close the distance between them.
It’s nothing like their previous kiss. It’s electrifying – the way Jaemin’s lips brush against his tentatively, light as the first snow in winter. Without thinking, Renjun grasps the back of his neck, holding him close as Jaemin’s mouth moves against his own, sending sparks that skitter along his skin. Jaemin is so, so gentle, almost like he’s seeking permission with the way his tongue gently probes its way into Renjun’s mouth – and Renjun grants it to him, opening up entirely and letting him take what he wants. Renjun doesn’t drink, but he’s sure this must be what intoxication feels like – like you’re flying and drowning at the same time, like you’re in a dream you never want to wake up from.
“You really have to stop doing this,” Renjun pants, breathless as they pull apart. Jaemin looks infuriatingly good still, and perfectly calm – while Renjun’s sure he probably looks a sight and can barely string two words together to form a sentence.
“This?” Jaemin gestures at the space between them, seemingly confused.
“Well, this thing between us – if it’s even a thing – I guess I don’t entirely mind it,” Renjun concedes, looking anywhere but at Jaemin. “Not that I want you to or anything, I’m just saying if you did, I’d be okay with it.”
Jaemin’s laughter fills his ears, low and sweet. “So you don’t want to?” He murmurs, tracing a finger down Renjun’s jawline. His touch leaves sparks in its wake.
Distracted, Renjun’s answer only comes a few seconds later. “No, it’s not that either… Damn you, you’re annoying as hell, you know that?” He clenches his fists, feeling his frustration bubbling up beneath the surface.
Jaemin just grins as he presses a kiss to Renjun’s forehead. “For the record, this thing between us, I don’t mind it either.”