Chapter Text
The journey back home is a blur. Jeno cuts straight through the traffic, not caring for the horns blaring after him. Fear grips him like a vice. Dread coils around his veins as his breathing gets heavier. The shield over his face fogs.
When he arrives home he rides straight into the warehouse and tears his helmet off. Despite the early day, the garage is empty, no sign of his friends anywhere.
Panic floods Jeno’s veins.
Dropping the helmet on the ground, Jeno rushes straight through the back door leading into the main house. He wants to shout for his friends, for anyone, but his voice dies in his throat when he sees them fast asleep in the darkness of the living room. In a makeshift bed on the floor, his friends are entangled together, breathing deeply in slumber.
Taeil stirs awake as soon as Jeno steps one foot into the living room, his breathing loud in the dreadful silence that fills the house. They lock eyes, but Taeil doesn’t speak. His eyes are overcast with unreadable emotions, but most of all, he looks tired. When Jeno doesn’t speak up, merely stares at the sight of his friends’ sleeping faces aggrieved with the aftershock of a nightmare, Taeil closes his eyes and rests his head back beside Kun’s.
Donghyuck’s arm is wrapped around Jisung’s body curled against his; Sicheng and Yangyang are squeezed onto the couch at opposite ends; Xiaojun is sitting up against the adjacent couch, head painfully strained to one side as he sleeps.
The sound of footsteps have Jeno whipping his head away from the scene. Tears brim his eyes as he looks up at Jaemin. His best friend’s eyes have sunk into their sockets, cheeks hollow and lips pale.
“Jaem,” Jeno starts, his voice on the verge of breaking, “what happened? Where are the others?” He more so begs than asks, voice getting louder with dread.
Jaemin draws his lips into a thin line and guides Jeno towards the kitchen.
“Il-sung paid us a visit last night,” Jaemin says wearily once they’re seated along the island.
Jeno feels the blood drain from his face, the air punching out of his lungs.
“He broke in while we were asleep, but Jisung was awake and heard,” Jaemin pauses to take a breath, “he alerted Johnny-hyung immediately, and soon enough were all up. Il-sung broke in and set explosive engines near our fuel storage – our own rocket-engines –“ Jaemin cuts himself off with a hollow laugh, “can you believe it? The explosion would’ve wiped out the whole block, he wanted to do what happened to his team, to us.”
Jeno swallows, the hair on his arms spiking up. To be killed by the very instrument you created – the irony and likelihood of it devastates him beyond measure.
“Jaem, what happened? Where’s Il-sung now? Where’s Lucas, and the hyungs?”
Jaemin runs his hands through his hair, closing his eyes to gather his thoughts, “a fight broke out when Johnny-hyung ran straight towards Il-sung. We called Inspector Moon and the cops right away but Doyoung said there wasn’t enough time left until the engines exploded. Xiaojun knew them better than anyone, so went to dismantle them before they –“
“But how?” Jeno’s voice rises again, “we checked them, they’re meant to be safe –“
“Apparently they’d been tampered with to become unstable, so Xiaojun had to dismantle them all one by one. Lucas and Jaehyun-hyung ran in to help Johnny-hyung keep Il-sung to the ground, Taeil-hyung pushed the rest of us back inside and locked the door. I didn’t see what happened after that, but Doyoung and Xiaojun were left in there, then we couldn’t find Taeyong-hyung and then the next thing we heard was Jaehyun-hyung screaming for Lucas and a gun-shot.”
Jeno stops breathing altogether. Jaemin’s next words are drowned out by the sound of his heart thumping loudly in his ear. A sharp pain unfurls in his chest as tears stream down his face.
Suddenly, the front door opens. Jaemin gets to his feet in a flash, brows furrowed and eyes alert, he faces the door.
Sensing the agitation, Jeno jumps up and reaches across the island to grab the carving knife from its stand. He grips it tightly, waiting.
Except it’s just Doyoung, who blinks at their stiff stances before cracking a smile, broken but trying, “what is this? Were you guys ready to attack me?”
Jeno’s body goes limp as he falls back onto his seat, returning the knife back to its place. His breathing evens out a little.
Jaemin cuts straight to the chase, “how is he?”
“He lost a lot of blood,” Doyoung says grimly, “it’ll take some time but the doctor said he should be fine, Lucas is a tough one, after all.”
Jeno can’t help but feel bittersweet at that, knowing well Lucas’ self-sacrificial tendencies just because he’s the only one fully trained in physical combat. A fighter, through and through.
After Doyoung sends Jaemin away to get some rest, despite the latter’s protests that he’s fine, Doyoung sits Jeno down to explain what happened.
When Doyoung and Xiaojun were busy dismantling the explosives, Il-sung had slashed his way out of Johnny and Jaehyun’s hold with his knife, wounding them. In his moment of freedom, he ran straight towards Xiaojun, aiming to stab him in the back before the final bomb could be undone, but Lucas got in his way. The blade piercing straight into his gut. Il-sung had gone berserk with rage, but before any of them could act, Taeyong shot him clean in the head. Using the gun Jeno’s father kept locked away in his office.
Il-sung died instantly, and Taeyong, who didn’t intend on killing him, passed out from the sheer gravity of what he had done.
The paramedics and police arrived almost immediately after. Lucas was rushed to the hospital while Johnny, Jaehyun, and Taeyong were tended to on the spot. The shock left Taeyong in shambles, and Johnny and Jaehyun have been watching over him all night while Doyoung went straight to the hospital after disposing of the dismantled explosives.
Inspector Moon came to the hospital in the morning to see how Lucas was doing and to talk to Doyoung about what would follow now in their case. The inspector pulled some strings and, seeing the magnitude of the threat Il-sung posed if he hadn’t been stopped, and in the name of self-defensive, none of them would be questioned.
Doyoung has never felt more grateful for the misfeasance in their society, if it would save his friends, Taeyong especially, from any more trauma.
Jeno absorbs the information silently. His head heavy on his shoulders. Hot tears start to stream down his cheeks.
“Hyung,” he whimpers, voice broken by a sob, “I’m so sorry.”
It’s his fault. He should never have taken the day off, he should never have stayed away. He should never have gotten distracted; his love for Renjun made him weak and blind.
No, the voice in Jeno’s mind reminds him, this isn’t Renjun’s fault. Renjun didn’t make him weak – Jeno was so from the beginning. He doesn’t deserve to be here, doesn’t deserve to be the leader when he’s too weak for the task. It’s his fault this all happened, ever since he gave in to Il-sung’s demands for the unready engines. If only he had been stronger, firmer in stance.
“Jeno, I know what you’re thinking,” Doyoung places a hand on Jeno’s shoulder and looks him in the eye, “stop. This is something beyond any of our control.”
“I –“ Jeno’s lips quiver, the sobs breaking him off, “I should’ve been here –“
“And it wouldn’t have done anything. Il-sung still would’ve come, someone still would’ve gotten hurt, if not Lucas then –“
“It should’ve been me instead,” Jeno says before breaking down in Doyoung’s arm, the might of his sobs congesting his throat and chest.
“And you think that’s any better?” Doyoung’s scolds him, but his arms wrap around Jeno warm and secure, “the hyung’s would’ve made you go back inside the house along with everyone else, you think we’d let you run in the way Lucas did? Heck, we just couldn’t stop him, but if we could…”
Doyoung falls silent, lips clamping together. His eyes water.
Jeno hugs him tightly and mumbles into his shoulder, “he’s going to be okay, right?”
“Of course he is, as we all just witnessed, he’s a fighter.”
-
It’s been a week since Jeno and Renjun’s falling out.
In his grief, Renjun spends the days holed-up in his apartment, unmoving from his bed. He’s been ghosting Chenle and Mark’s persistent calls and texts, even when Ten arrives with them at his doorstep, begging Renjun to open the door – he doesn’t move.
Renjun feels hollow inside, like a shell of his former self. The shock of his own, hurtful words hurled at Jeno ring in his mind – a constant reminder of his actions. A nightmare he can’t escape.
On many occasions, Renjun contemplates calling Jeno. Every fibre of his being pushes him to just pick up the phone so he can hear Jeno’s voice and tell him he’s so, so sorry. But Renjun always ends up stopping at his contact. His fingers failing to work in concert with his heart as the image of Jeno’s loveless, heartbroken face reappears in mind.
He hurt Jeno, how could he possibly think he deserves Jeno after that?
Worst of all, Renjun knows that in his heart of hearts, he truly felt what he said.
It goes without saying that Jeno and Renjun are different. Jeno grew up loved, his future secured for him, while Renjun has never known anything more than the feeling of being completely, and utterly, abandoned and lost. While Jeno has the world working for him, Renjun only seems to have the world against him, throwing him down every time he has even an inkling of hope. It’s only expected they wouldn’t understand each other.
Despite his efforts, Renjun simply can’t overlook the glaring disparity in their status. It may seem non-progressive of him to think this way, but no matter how he sees it, their relationship boils down to the one where one is wealthy and thriving, and the other, pitiable, sad, and with nothing.
No matter how he tries to look at it, Renjun can’t help but feel significantly inferior, especially so when Jeno offers to pay for Renjun’s financial issues. It’s not just a Jeno thing either, but with all of his friends the inequality is there – his pent-up feelings just happened to unfurl with Jeno.
However, Renjun’s also aware that how he went about it was vehemently wrong. His words were hurtful, said out of spite, even though it wasn’t Jeno’s fault for the situation he’s in. Jeno was simply an aggravating factor, reminding Renjun of everything he didn’t have, and probably never will.
He knows, full well, what Jeno went through following his father’s passing, the struggles he has as the leader, working in a field as volatile as his. Yet Renjun used his knowledge against Jeno, to hurt him, just because he himself was feeling like shit.
It’s inexcusable.
He doesn’t belong here, with Jeno, after what he’s done. Renjun doesn’t belong here if can’t hold his own. In a society where there is no place for people like him, Renjun can’t make his stay depending on others. He’s already gotten enough help from his friends, who have their own lives and struggles to deal with and still bothered with Renjun’s. Helping him make money instead of tending to their own stores.
He can’t call his life his if it’s built using someone else’s money; his dreams can no longer be called his own if someone buys them for him.
How embarrassing.
No. He won’t be taken care of like he’s incapable of anything. He won’t be pitied.
If he can’t make it here, then Renjun will just have to search elsewhere. This is only the beginning, he tells himself as he wipes his cheeks and sits up in his bed. The beginning of a long and hard journey.
Mr. Choi will come around in a weeks’ time to collect the money. Renjun will give him what he has. Mr. Choi will take back the store and the apartment, and Renjun will be on his way, searching for whatever lies next for him.
With a heavy heart, Renjun throws off the covers to get dressed for a late work day. He’ll offer what he has, till the very end.
-
Work is quiet on the days following the incident.
It’s a while before most of them have the heart to even step foot in the warehouse, but surprisingly, Taeyong takes the lead. As soon as he’s up on his feet again and walking around the house, he’s adamant on going back to work despite everyone else’s insistence that he rests.
“If I lay in bed for another minute I’ll eat myself alive,” is the excuse he gives, “I need to do something, anything, to distract myself.”
So they’re back to work the following week, but taking things slow and steady. Jeno, still feeling a little guilty, is back to square one where he takes on most of the work himself and is relentless when Doyoung and Kun come entreating him to take a break or share the paperwork.
But Jeno simply can’t. Like Taeyong, if he doesn’t do this much, his thoughts will eat him raw.
Thoughts of Il-sung’s blood permanently staining their name, Lucas still recovering in the hospital, and the traumatic experience his friends went through while he, their supposed leader, what? Had sex with his boyfriend, and then fought with him the very morning after.
How much more pathetic can he be?
So Jeno keeps his head bowed and works and works until his fingers can’t type anymore, until his vision starts to blur the words together on the page.
A sharp pain settles on the spot between his brows and where his nose begins. It feels like his head is being drilled into. Jeno takes off his glasses and pinches the spot hard, massaging it gently. His other hand blindly searches for the tiger balm in his drawer which he keeps exactly for moments like this.
Jaemin, who’s been sparing worried glances at Jeno through the window, finally has enough.
“Do you wanna fight?” Is the first thing he says as he throws the door to Jeno’s office open, voice loud and seething, “cuz your being fucking ridiculous, and this time I’m gonna fight you.”
Jaemin crosses over to yank Jeno’s seat around. Crouching down, he looks Jeno in the eye.
Jeno remains silent. He’s too exhausted for Jaemin and whatever is about to go down between them right now.
“The whole week, you haven’t said anything more than a few words to me, and it’s always something stupid like to pass the salt at the table. You’ve been ignoring my questions about how your day off with Renjun went, and I know something happened because I know you better than I know myself.” Jaemin collects his breath, grip tightening around the arms of Jeno’s chair, “it’s time for you to spill.”
Finally, Jeno’s eyes waver. They flit down to his knees, his eyes brewing with hot tears on the verge of spilling over. The memory of the argument, the words Renjun threw at him, the sheer anguish that ripped his heart to shreds in an instance came rushing back.
Noticing the shift in Jeno’s demeanour, Jaemin’s expression softened. He pulls back immediately to examine Jeno from a distance that let the latter take a deep breath.
“Jeno,” was the last thing Jaemin needed to say, voice sweet and soft with growing concern - and Jeno spilled, the dam holding his emotions at bay smashing open.
When Jeno’s father had passed away, Jeno didn’t shed a single tear. Even on the day of his funeral, and the days after it in which the crew at LMW spent mourning, Jeno remained the only one who didn’t cry.
Any outsider looking in would think Jeno didn’t love him, or didn’t feel as profoundly for his own father as the rest of the crew who struggled to face the days without their hearts bursting out of their chests.
But they knew. Jaemin, Donghyuck, and all his friends who kept an extra attentive eye on Jeno ever since, knew how he felt. The numb pain he felt, the bone-breaking shock he experienced as his world came crashing down on top of him.
And yet, not once did Jeno cry.
Needless to say, when Jeno broke down in sobs in Jaemin’s arms that afternoon, after telling all that went down with Renjun, the latter was shell-shocked. He can’t remember the last time he saw Jeno cry so hard; choking sobs muffled by the pressure of his mouth against Jaemin’s shoulder, fingers trembling where they weakly held onto Jaemin’s jacket.
Jaemin was speechless.
All those times when he had so much to say to Jeno, so much to give him to ease his pain, and now when Jeno needed it the most, he has nothing.
When Jeno’s cries finally waned, and he pulled back to wipe his cheeks with both hands, he said in the most broken voice Jaemin’s ever heard coming from him, “I’m so tired.”
The words send Jaemin’s heart shattering in his chest, his own eyes growing hot with oncoming tears.
He knows the words, and Jeno’s meltdown, have been a long-time coming. They hold the weight of the year, of everything he’s had to shoulder on his own. The pressure he built upon himself, adding brick after brick on the wall he called his duty. The wall Jeno couldn’t see beyond, couldn’t see the many open arms waiting for him to fall into their embrace.
And Renjun. The person who was a reminder and a revelation to Jeno of the good things that can still be. Of the love and affection that exists for him now and he has still yet to discover. A break away from the lonely world he created for himself.
Renjun, who broke his heart.
Jaemin’s bias has a bitter hatred instantly steeping in his heart. A nasty animosity for the boy who hurt his best friend.
It’s only later that night when Jeno has retired to his bed, exhausted from the weight of his emotions, that Jaemin comes to his senses after a talk with Donghyuck.
“Look, I get it, Jeno’s my best-friend too, but,” Donghyuck rubs his face in his hands, as if he’s trying to convince himself of what he’s about to say, “you can’t hate Renjun without hearing his side. I mean, we’ve seen the guy, it’s hard to believe he’d hurt Jeno out of pure malicious intent.”
“Hyung is right,” Jisung pipes in, leaning his body over the kitchen island, “it’s not like we haven’t seen the same thing from Jeno-hyung. He can be pretty nasty when he’s all wound up, who’s to say Renjun-hyung isn’t the same? How do we know Jeno-hyung didn’t say something that struck a nerve?”
Jaemin knows they’re both right. From what they’ve seen, Renjun seems like a genuinely nice guy who is unfortunately stuck in a shitty situation. There’s all the possibility he was extra sensitive from stress. And, Jeno’s no angel either.
It doesn’t happen often, but when Jeno’s angry, like really, truly, angry, he can be a tempest to deal with. Jaemin’s only ever encountered an angry Jeno once, when he stumbled upon an argument between said boy and his father, and in those few minutes he saw his father’s son.
The ruthless and cunning man who built this company from the ground up during Seoul’s most infamous and dangerous crime wave was reflected, deep, deep, inside Jeno.
Honestly, given any other situation, Jaemin would laugh, because Jeno doesn’t believe he’s the leader his father was, but the fact that the company hasn’t already crumbled under the weight of the two sides of society crushed against them, is telling enough.
But at the same time, Jeno is more than that.
While Mr. Lee was their father in every sense of the word, Jeno is kind, honest, and true, way, way before he is cold and cunning.
(They all have to be a little evil to survive with what they do, but Jeno has always been the slightest bit softer, but a thousand times more – )
“God, he can be so stubborn, especially when angry,” Jaemin hisses to himself, “it’s like dealing with a bull.”
“He needs to talk to Renjun,” Donghyuck taps the table with his finger, “he won’t want to, but this is an argument, not a clear break-up. If they break-up after, it’s finished and we can deal with that accordingly, but he can’t just float in misery forever.”
“Renjun-hyung was out-of-line, but, Jeno-hyung needs to listen to his side without all the anger,” Jisung adds with finality.
“Great,” Donghyuck rises to stand up and stretch, “that’s settled then, Jaemin will talk to Jeno.”
“Wait – what? You want me to talk to him, alone?”
“Jaemin-hyung, fighting!”
-
Chenle eventually wears him down.
That is, Renjun comes down to the store one morning to see Chenle, face pressed flat against the window. As soon as he spots Renjun, he scowls, the glass around his nose fogs up and he bangs the window with his fist. Renjun hurries to let him in before he breaks down the door.
The first thing he does when Renjun lets him in is tell Renjun to wait as he pulls out his phone and furiously types away.
Within seconds, Mark is beside him and they walk in together, crowding Renjun against the counter.
“Guys –“
“No! No talking!” Chenle yells, face red from anger, his nostrils flaring.
“Renjun, what the fuck?” Mark spits angrily. It’s the first time Renjun’s witnessing an angry Mark, “no, seriously, what the fuck? You ghosted us all of a sudden, the shop hasn’t been open for days, we’ve all been worried sick – what the fuck do you have to say for yourself?”
Renjun flinches at the tone. Although Mark doesn’t raise his voice, the flame to his words is still there, scalding.
Without any control, and as he has been for days, Renjun starts crying. Dropping to the floor, his hands cover his face as he sobs openly into his palms.
Mark and Chenle kneel immediately, pulling Renjun into their arms in an awkward group hug. Mark apologizes immediately for yelling, which he didn’t even do, and Renjun tells him through his tears that it’s okay because he deserves it.
It takes a while to explain what happened with Jeno, especially with Renjun drawing deep, shuddering breaths every few words. But Mark and Chenle are ever patient, rubbing up and down his arms and back as the coax him.
“It’s all my fault,” Renjun says in between sobs, “I hurt him and now he hates me and it’s all my fault. I’m so fucking awful –“
“Ren, don’t say that,” Mark pulls him tighter to his side, “don’t - don't humble yourself like that.”
Chenle wipes Renjun’s cheeks dry only for tears to wet them again. His lips quiver as he nods along with Mark, eyes shining over.
“No – it’s my fault, what I said was so hurtful and I knew it would hurt him but I couldn’t stop myself – I was so angry, but that’s no excuse and I’m s-so sorry.”
The fierceness of his sobs prevents him from speaking further, so Renjun sits there and does what he’s been doing for the past few days but still can’t get exhausted of – he cries, and cries, and cries.
It’s only when he’s dried out of tears and his chest starts to sting with every breath does he stop. Along the way, Chenle started crying too, which he tries to hide by rubbing his face into Renjun’s shirt.
They sit in silence for a while, leaning against the counter. Renjun releases a heaving a breath every few seconds, but that's all. None of them make a move.
“I’m hungry,” Mark says when the silence starts to become unsettling, “let’s go have something greasy, my treat.”
They hold Renjun as he waddles upstairs, rummaging through his closet for him for a jacket. Renjun stares at the open closet from where he sits on the bed and his eyes fall upon Jeno’s jacket, hung in the centre. It stands out from all the rest for more reasons than one.
Chenle and Mark pretend they don’t see it.
The rest of the afternoon passes with no mention of Jeno or the argument. Well-versed in the art of Renjun, Mark and Chenle are aware that he knows the gravity of what he’s said, and what to do next.
And Renjun has never been more grateful for his friends. He thinks that when Mr. Choi eventually kicks him out and he’s forced to leave, he’ll miss them the most. More than imaginable.
They have chicken and chips from Renjun’s favourite shop with a side of beer and soda (for Chenle). Renjun devours the food like he hasn’t eaten in days, which he hasn’t, and Mark supports him by ordering more food before his plate’s even cleared.
At the end afternoon, after forcing Chenle to return home despite his insistence on sleeping over, Mark says the final words, “Ren, I just want you to know that I’m here for you, no matter what. I’m your friend, you know that right?”
Renjun nods, giving Mark a tight hug. He presses his cheek against his shoulder and takes a deep breath. The dusk air is crisp and clean.
He watches Mark retreat into his shop then steps inside his own, eyes sweeping over the room. The knot in his chest, while still there, has loosened the slightest. He feels along the smooth surface of the counter, taking his time in crossing the room to where the switchboard is. He turns off the lights.
It’d D-Day, or Judgement day as Chenle called it, which Renjun thinks is fitting because it sure feels like it.
He wakes up at 6am sharp, or rather, he hasn’t slept a wink all night. Tossing in turning in bed, trying to will himself to sleep, Renjun spent the night predicting what will come.
He skips breakfast – because the eggs in his fridge remind him too much of Jeno – and trudges down the steps and straight to the shop. With an hour left until Mr. Choi arrives, Renjun busies himself by dusting the shelves and brooming the floor. He turns on some music in hopes it will lighten the mood only to turn it off minutes later because it’s too loud and he can’t think.
Can’t think about how he’s about to lose everything he holds dear.
Mr. Choi arrives at 9am sharp, as promised.
The man seems to have aged immensely since the last time Renjun saw him, and once again, Renjun thinks he’s partly to blame.
He greets Renjun briskly and gets straight to the point, setting out his files across the counter. Renjun shuffles his feet as he take his position behind the counter, head bowed and hands crossed in front like he’s standing on trial and awaiting his sentence.
Then something flashes from the corner of his eye.
It’s Mark and Chenle, walking back and forth past the window, trying their best to look like passer-by’s and not like they’re staring daggers into Mr. Choi’s head. Not at all.
“Renjun.”
“Sir,” Renjun pipes to attention.
The landlord shifts some papers around and brings up the final notice he served him two months prior, “are you ready to pay me, in full.”
Renjun bites his lip, “sorry, Sir, I couldn’t get the full amount,” he hands over the wad of cash, half the amount of what he owes.
Mr. Choi sighs and flicks through the bills, counting them under his breath. He pauses, “you know what this means, right?”
Renjun swallows, he can feel his voice grow thick with tears. “Yes,” he whispers, throat closing up.
“You know, I don’t want to do this to you,” Mr Choi says, setting aside the money to look at Renjun properly.
For the first time, Renjun notices the soft-brown of the man’s eyes, warm and inviting. He realises that he’s subconsciously created an antagonistic image of Mr. Choi in his mind, when all along, he’s been gentle and patient. Just a tired, middle-aged man doing his job.
It’s not Mr. Choi’s fault for the situation Renjun is in, and he certainly isn’t evil, like what Renjun’s mind painted him to be. This is just the way things have turned out, beyond anyone’s power.
“I’m sorry,” he says, before stamping a red evicted across Renjun’s lease form. A quick and clean cut, and it’s done.
Renjun’s eye well up immediately as he stares at the red ink, the word blurring as tears form like dewdrops. They fall onto the page, drops of rain before the inevitable shower.
Mr. Choi rests his hand upon Renjun’s, curled into a fist, “you’re a good kid, I wish there was something I could do for you, to help you.”
Renjun shakes his head, a whimper escaping his lips. He clamps his mouth shut instantly, swallowing back the sobs that threaten to burst out of his chest.
It hurts. Everything hurts so much.
Suddenly, a stack of notes is pushed towards him. Renjun looks up, eyes shooting open with confusion.
“You’re killing me kid,” Mr. Choi says with a chuckle, shaking his head, “take that, and stay safe. Stay off the streets and, I hope you can make a start on the next chapter of your life soon.”
He pats Renjun on the shoulder and is packed up and gone before Renjun can find the words to speak. Bumbling on the spot, his eyes follow after Mr. Choi as he exits the store, tipping his hat at Mark and Chenle before he’s out of sight.
The pair storm in immediately after, running to hug Renjun, who stares at the money in his hands. It’s half the amount he gave Mr. Choi – one grand, to be exact.
“Renjunie,” Chenle cries into his shoulder, nuzzling his nose, “Renjun-ge!”
“We’ll figure something out, Ren,” Mark says against his ear, voice wobbling, “I promise you, you’re going to be okay!”
The eviction notice glares at him from the counter, the final date marked two weeks away.
Renjun tips his head back and lets his chest split in half.
-
Sicheng is tinkering away on the gears of a motorcycle when a shadow springs into vision. He looks up and squints at the stranger standing at the mouth of the garage, looking very small and very out of place. The boy fiddles with his fingers, eyes darting around the warehouse cautiously.
“Hey,” he hears himself say, “are you lost?”
The boy flinches at Sicheng’s call and profusely shakes his head. He opens his mouth to speak up but stops when Lucas steps up, shirtless and bandaged torso on show for the world.
Sicheng groans quietly. They’ve been trying to tell Lucas to rest since he got back the previous day, but the latter is tenacious, and he’s freaking out the poor stranger who looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here.
“Yo,” Lucas intonates, “are you here to make an order?”
Right, Sicheng supposes he shouldn’t judge someone based on their appearance. Even if they look like they can be snapped in half by the wind. And it may be old fashioned, especially in current times with the internet and a growing need for privacy, but it’s not like they’ve never had in-store orders before.
He wipes his hands free of grease on a dirty rag and pulls out the pad and paper from his back pocket, approaching the boy before Lucas’ gigantaur self can and subsequently freak the poor kid out any more.
“Actually,” the stranger speaks up, clearing his throat, “I – I’m looking for –“
Ah, yes, Sicheng brain wanders again, another one of Jaemin’s stray flings. Why didn’t he think of that sooner?
“Lee Jeno.”
Both Lucas and Sicheng blink dumbly at the boy. First of all, they never have unexpected visitors, and secondly, Jeno never has unexpected visitors. So this is certainly…well, unexpected.
Doyoung steps out from the corner where he’s been listening in, cautious. “What do you want with him?” He asks, a little snap to his voice, a little growl.
“I – um, sorry, I should –“
“Renjun-hyung?” Jisung pipes from behind them, briskly running up to the door. He straightaway connects two and two together, and without sparing another moment, “straight down, and then up the stairs, you’ll see an office. Can’t miss it.”
Renjun thanks him and awkwardly shuffles past Sicheng and Doyoung, who turns to Jisung once Renjun’s out of ear-shot.
“Who was that? You just let him into Jeno’s office without supervision?”
“He’s just a –“ Jisung chooses his next word carefully, not wanting to give too much away with Jeno’s permission, “friend!”
Doyoung studies Jisung for a moment. His face is a dead giveaway that there’s more to the story, but as he watches Renjun shuffle up the stairs, he lets it slide.
After Doyoung and Sicheng are done scrutinizing him, Jisung scurries away to seek out Jaemin and Donghyuck.
Jeno’s been reading the same email the whole morning, and he still doesn’t know what the hell it’s about.
With Lucas back, things are starting to pick up again and the atmosphere around work has lightened tremendously – but that still isn’t the end of Jeno’s problems. His mind has now settled on the glaring, unresolved issue that is his relationship with Renjun.
Have they broken up, or is this just a really bad fight? If so, who reaches out first? Is he meant to reach out? Is this his fault?
Not to mention other pressing concerns of whether Renjun is doing okay or not, whether his lease got renewed or not, and what happens next. His weak heart can’t help but pine for Renjun, unconditionally.
A gentle rap at the door has him blinking away from the screen. His eyes burn from hours and hours of staring at his computer, and as he rubs them from under his glasses he lets out a calm, “come in.”
The door opens a crack for Renjun’s face to pop in, then the rest of him pushes through and shuts the door.
Jeno’s face falls slack. His breath hitches in his throat and his mind sweeps clear of thought. Of all people, Renjun is not someone he expected to see today, in his office no less.
“Renjun…” he breathes out from somewhere deep, deep inside him. The name resounds within the stillness of the room.
Renjun doesn’t move from where he stands right in front of the door, a considerable distance away from Jeno. He stares down at his feet.
“Ren,” Jeno swallows the lump in his throat, “what’re you doing here?”
Finally, Renjun meets his eyes, and Jeno lets out a breath he didn’t know he’s been holding. Renjun’s eyes are raw and glassy, his cheeks blotched. And as if Jeno’s heart wasn’t already broken enough, it shatters again, into a billion pieces.
“I came here to –“ Renjun squeaks, his voice so thin it slices through Jeno’s skin. He clears his throat, “I just wanted to say my piece before – I wanted to –“
Jeno stands up immediately when Renjun’s voice cracks. He takes a step forward.
Renjun’s eyes briefly flicker to the window and that’s when Jeno realises they’re practically on display for all his friends down below, who are not so graciously trying to look like they aren’t staring.
He pulls the blinds shut and turns back to Renjun, who’s now backed himself up against the door.
“Go on,” Jeno beckons, voice soft lest he break Renjun more than he already appears to have been.
“I’m sorry, Jeno, I’m so sorry,” Renjun says, voice watery, “you probably hate me and don’t even wanna see me right now but I had to come tell you my piece.”
Jeno holds his breath, pressure building in his chest. As much as he wants to hold his ground and not forgive Renjun so easily for the hurtful things he said, Jeno simply can’t. There are no words to describe the way his heart melted, instantly, as soon as the apology escaped Renjun’s lips.
Two words and Jeno’s sold.
I forgive you. Take it, take my heart. You could kiss me then kill me, you could tear my heart into two, and I’d give it to you all over again, gladly.
“I’m so, so sorry for what I said to you. I was spiteful and defensive, I’ve always known that I – I’m not like you or anyone else around here but – I don’t know, I was so high-strung and then when you said we weren’t the same I got so –“
He stops, unable to continue for the velocity of his sobs hits him hard. He drops to the floor and Jeno’s down in a flash to hold him in his arms.
“I hurt you so much, I was completely out of line and I knew, I knew I was hurting you and I still couldn’t stop, I couldn’t see straight let alone think about what I was saying, b-but,” Renjun sniffles, another choked sob ripping out of him, “that’s no excuse, none of that is an excuse,” he shakes his head, fingers quivering where they hold onto Jeno’s arm, “you don’t have to forgive me, if you hate me I totally get it, but I didn’t wanna go without seeing you and I’m sorry for crying but I –“
“No, Ren,” Jeno pulls his body closer, picking Renjun’s face up to wipes his cheeks. “Ren,” he calls again, sweetly, and presses their foreheads together, “I’m sorry too.”
Renjun pushes himself back immediately, mild annoyance flashing across his tear-streaked face, “why are you sorry? I’m sorry!”
“No, you were right, it’s easier said than done to accept help, I should know, and I shouldn’t have pointed out that we’re different as if you were any lesser, when you’re not.” Jeno rises to his feet, pulling Renjun up with him by the waist, “I shouldn’t have provoked you –“
“But you weren’t wrong –“
“But I wasn’t right either,” he brings Renjun in for a hug, strokes his hair, “I’m sorry I let my frustration get the better of me, I’m sorry I raised my voice –“
“Me too,” Renjun cuts in, peering up at Jeno’s face, “I’m sorry for what I said. I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t think, for even a moment, that you were privileged, or something, but,” he takes a deep, shuddering breath, “that doesn’t mean you aren’t hard working or any less deserving. Just because I don’t have much, or anything –“
“Don’t say that, Ren,” Jeno cups his face and touches their foreheads together, “don’t – you have so much to give, so much talent and wonder in you.”
He presses a chaste kiss to Renjun’s lips, and Renjun, having missed the feeling, reaches up to kiss Jeno fully.
“I still suck,” Renjun snivels when they pull apart.
“Hey, don’t say that.”
Jeno caresses his cheeks, simply gazing over Renjun’s face for a moment. His eyes sparkle, as if all the stardust that fell from the sky found a home in Renjun. A stray tears beads at the corner. Jeno wipes it away.
“I missed you,” he whispers, like he’s sharing a secret, or admitting a very cliché but profound truth.
“Really?” Comes the reply from Renjun, the lilt in his voice filled with genuine surprise. It hurts Jeno to think Renjun actually believed he could ever hate him.
“Of course, I –“ He stops himself from revealing what lies in his heart. Not yet. Not right now. “I still, really, really like you, after all.”
“I’m sorry,” Renjun repeats, his voice going thin again, “I just can’t –“
“Hey, no more of that, okay? Let’s just – let’s just start again, try to understand each other more.” He takes Renjun’s hands in his and kisses his knuckles, one by one, “let’s take it slow and meet in the middle, okay?”
In the heat of their intense feelings, Jeno believes they overlooked the opportunities to truly understand one another. More alike than they appear, yet different too, it’ll take time to unpack each other, understand each other, and not overstep on their individual values. This time, he wants to do it right.
“I lost my lease though, so I don’t know – I’ll have to leave, go somewhere else, we can’t… any longer –“
Jeno sits down in his chair and pulls Renjun onto his lap, rubbing his back, “you think I’m just gonna let you go like that? We’ll figure something out, I promise, I’m not letting you go before we have a chance to start over.”
Renjun’s breaths still shake, his body still overwhelmed from the intensity of his sobs. He nods weakly into Jeno’s neck.
“I’m so scared. I don’t know what to do…”
Jeno cradles him in his arms and kisses the air above his ear, muttering sweet words and hushed promises.
“You’ll be okay, we’ll be okay.”
The work day passes without Jeno getting any work done.
After Renjun’s calmed down and rehydrated by draining Jeno’s water bottle, he moves off Jeno’s leg with the excuse that he wants to watch him work, taking a seat in the extra chair.
“Babe,” Jeno chortles and pushes up his glasses, “I don’t think I’m gonna get any more work done today.”
Which is fine, because Renjun’s attention has quickly moved on. He tips his head, lip jutting out in a pout, “how come I’ve never seen you wear glasses?”
“I just, I don’t know, I don’t really wear them outside,” he pushes them up again even though they’re perfectly fine where they are, “does it look bad.”
“No,” Renjun deadpans like that’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard and Jeno’s stupid for even thinking that he could look bad in anything ever, “in fact, I’m kinda mad by how good you look, why’s your face just so – ” he crosses the distance to litter Jeno’s face with kisses.
“Are you hungry?” Jeno asks when Renjun’s back to leaning against his arm and watching him click between tabs and, really, not doing anything in particular.
“A little,” Renjun says, but his stomach confesses the truth with a loud growl, “okay, maybe a lot.”
Jeno wraps their hands together, then Renjun fixes it so that their fingers are intertwined.
“Let’s go feed you then.”
To absolutely no one’s surprise (especially Jeno’s), once they step out hand in hand, the whole crew is staring. Not so subtly either, making it obvious they’ve been staring for a while and will continue staring until someone (Jeno) explains what’s going on.
Except, Jeno sports a smug smile and walks straight past them, keeping Renjun close to his side as the latter gracelessly stumbles along, squirming under the eyes that refuse to leave him.
“Your friends seem… nice,” Renjun remarks once they’ve turned the corner, away from the LMW garage.
The weather is pleasant, not to warm and with a gentle breeze, hence the decision to walk to a nearby pizza place.
Jeno bursts into a laugh, “yeah, they won’t let me live if I don’t take you back for questioning, so, let’s see if you can hold onto that opinion after that.”
He could just avoid the trouble by letting Jaemin and Donghyuck explain for him. Knowing his friends, they’d accept it too, as they’re not the type to pry if Jeno doesn’t feel comfortable. But that takes the fun out of watching Renjun squirm as Doyoung and the hyungs interrogate him.
Renjun lets go of Jeno’s hand and skips ahead as they near the restaurant. The sunlight seems to cascade off him, and the scene is oddly reminiscent. Jeno, shielding his eyes from the sun, runs to catch up.
-
It takes two days for Renjun to hold a sale and make the most of what he has left, time amongst other things.
It takes an afternoon, with the help of all his friends, to pack up his apartment and say goodbye to the only place he’s known to call home.
It takes a second for Mr. Choi to plaster a sold sticker across the window of Love-Craft! The sign bearing the name now laying by the curb, waiting for the tow truck to take it to the dump, along with everything else inside the store that couldn’t be sold or donated.
Parked across the street, Renjun folds his arms over the handlebars of Jeno’s motorbike, resting his chin on the cool leather sleeves. He sits and stares, and stares and stares. A lump in the shape of a goodbye remains lodged in his throat, as it has been for the past two weeks. He can’t swallow it, nor find the strength to spit it out.
Jeno emerges from the convenience store behind them with grape soda and a powdered donut. He brings the sweet to Renjun’s lips from behind. Renjun takes a bite.
“Feels weird,” Jeno comments, melancholic. Renjun expects him to say something else, but he doesn’t.
“Yeah,” he manages to choke out, “it does.”
He turns his head to peer through the window of Ten’s salon, who must’ve noticed Renjun is there, for he smiles and waves.
From where they are, they can’t see through the large glass panels of Mark’s flower shop, but that’s okay. Renjun’s going to be seeing a lot more of it, and Mark, soon anyways.
“It’s gonna be even weirder coming to work every day but not at my…” he trails off, the lump in his throat creeping to the back of his tongue.
“It will, but at least you’ll always be close, right?” As if reading Renjun’s mind, Jeno adds, “it won’t be a reminder of what you lost, or failed at, but where you started, and where you’re headed to next.”
At Mark’s insistence, Renjun agreed to taking up a job at his greenhouse. He’s aware that the role of greenhouse-keeper is a position Mark made up specifically for Renjun, but frankly, he knows he needs it. Swallowing his pride and accepting the help masked as a job was hard, so unimaginably hard, but Renjun knew if he didn’t stop running now he never would.
Jeno and Chenle were also pretty insistent Renjun move in with them, but Chenle has a big family and Renjun can’t help feeling he’d be an added burden. As for Jeno, while his friends have been nothing but warm and accepting, Renjun’s afraid that moving in together so hastily would burn out their relationship. They've already seen what going in head-first can do. Not to mention the eyes that would be all around them. Jeno’s friends mean well, but when and if they move in together, Renjun wants it to be just them.
Chenle whined a lot, and tried appealing that he wouldn’t be, but Renjun’s stance was unwavering.
On the other hand, Jeno grumbled a little bit, but accepted his decision after making Renjun promise that one day – one day.
So, by a weird turn of events, Renjun’s living with Ten and his mother instead. He didn’t have much of a choice – or any – because as soon as Ten’s mother heard the situation, she grabbed Renjun with her soft hands and wouldn’t let go. No, really, she just wouldn’t let go.
And in that moment, Renjun realized all the love he'd been overlooking for so long. The home he's found within his friends. The place he belongs.
It’s a temporary fix, he knows that, but a fix nonetheless.
“I’ll work hard at Mark’s, try to find something better so I can save up and go to art school,” Renjun speaks into the evening breeze. A promise, a prayer, carried away with the wind.
“You can always go to community college,” Jeno says, feeding Renjun the last bite of donut, “you’ve already got half the payment for the first year, and you can jump straight into your course. It’ll be easier for you to find a job too, with the skills you’ll learn, so you can like,” he shrugs, “work and study, I guess.”
“Right… that’s actually not a bad idea." It would take him a little longer to reach his goal, but it's still something more concrete than searching for a well-paying job he may never find, "I just need to save up a bit more then, with the money I already got from Mr. Choi –“
“Or, I could help you and lend you the rest, so you can get started?”
Renjun gives him an unamused look, then softens into a smile, “we’ll see.”
Jeno stays satisfied with that.
The sun starts to set behind them, bathing the street in a glowing, warm light. If Jeno tries, he can almost make out the painted walls of the store - the sunflowers, the meadows, Chenle and Jisung’s yellow and white hand stamps. Even that God-awful flower Jaemin painted before Renjun moved him to being in charge of cleaning up brushes.
A feeling resounds within the air, a sense of longing for what has slipped by forevermore.
Renjun is here, and Jeno is here too, right by his side. They’re still the same.
The streets are the same. The sun still sets the same. And yet, everything has changed.
Renjun absentmindedly searches for Jeno’s hand. Stretching out his left hand, he wiggles his fingers and Jeno meets him halfway.
“We should head back, Taeyong-hyung is expecting you for dinner.”
Renjun remains unable to pull away; not his eyes, not his hand that grips onto Jeno’s like a lifeline. A stray tear rolls down his cheek which he quickly wipes away.
“Okay, let’s go.”
Putting on their helmets, Jeno taps the front seat, “wanna drive back?”
Renjun takes a moment to consider before nodding. He grins and scoots to the front right away. As he securely places his feet on the brake pedal, Jeno sits down and hugs him from behind. His hands are warm and steadying where they splay across Renjun's stomach.
With a deep breath, Renjun pulls down his visor and cranks up the engine.