Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

CANTO I.

They say love burns.

For Jeno, he doesn’t expect his irresponsible, completely irredeemable, major flaw in his judgement of a crush on Jaemin Na to actually burn. 

They used to not know of each other's existence, the extent of their relationship being passing each other in the halls in high school while Jeno was heading to basketball practice and Jaemin was emerging from the principal’s office. Jaemin had always been getting into trouble in some capacity since Jeno can remember knowing him (which he thinks didn’t happen until he moved to town in 8th grade). Now though, as Jeno is wiping the sweat from his brow with the bottom of his t-shirt in the front of his dorm after a run, the familiar sound of a lighter flicking behind him draws a smile to his face.

“If you’re planning on smoking please do it before we go upstairs,” Jeno pleads lightheartedly as he turns to face the image of what can only be described as a rockstar degenerate reject-ee topped in shaggy platinum blonde. It’s spring, so it’s not cold by any means, but Jeno can’t imagine that the tattered fabric he calls a t-shirt is providing him any protection from the elements at sunset, less are his torn and frayed skinny jeans.

“C’mon, Jen, do you think so lowly of me?” Jaemin asks with a dramatized pout, stepping closer until Jeno can smell the remnants of cigarettes floating in the air. “I smoked while I was waiting for you, silly.”

He accentuates his point while poking a finger into Jeno’s chest, and the touch numbs him immediately, spreading down to his stomach and across to his arms.

“How thoughtful of you,” Jeno mumbles, gaze focused on where Jaemin’s finger presses into his shirt, the warmth still present against his skin through the fabric.

“Since I’m so thoughtful, are you gonna let me in?” Jaemin’s hand flattens out against Jeno’s chest then, a laugh bubbling in his throat at the hitch in Jeno’s breath from the contact. “C’mon, you smell,” is the last thing Jeno hears before Jaemin is dragging him into his own dorm, more than familiar with the way there seeing as they’ve been hanging out steadily since the beginning of fall semester.

Jeno thinks it’s still cosmically hilarious that they became friends. They continued to ignore each other as they did in high school during their freshman year of college, but on the first day of move-in their sophomore year, Jeno was telling Renjun a story in the SUB while using just a little too much enthusiasm with his hands. Long story short, he whacked Jaemin in the face hard enough to draw blood, and the pair spent the better part of an hour cleaning Jaemin up in the bathroom while the younger was incessantly giggling despite the blood gushing from his nose. Jeno couldn’t help but laugh along with him, and here they are: a hopeful basketball player and a stoner with an affliction for sharp objects and flames.

Cliché, he knows.

“Jesus, your roommate is fucking gross,” Jaemin grumbles as they enter the dorm, face turning down in a grimace at the pile of dishes in the sink and empty cups in the living room. “Want some help cleaning up?”

Jeno’s heart stutters stupidly at the offer, but he shoves that right down.

“Nah, that’s okay. I’ll clean up whatever’s mine and make him do the rest.”

Jaemin shrugs as if to say suit yourself before following Jeno to his bedroom, making himself at home by plopping down onto his bed. 

“Can I play on your xbox while you shower?” Jaemin asks as he pulls his half empty box of cigarettes from his pocket, tossing it onto the nightstand while kicking off his worn boots. “Or I could just snoop, you know I love snooping,” Jaemin adds with a razor sharp smile, canines catching on the plush of his lips just enough to be noticeable.

Jeno realizes then that he’s staring like an idiot, and turns to grab his towel and a change of clothes. 

“Uh, sure, fine. I don’t care,” Jeno stutters distractedly, brain frying while trying to focus on what t-shirt to grab from his drawer. “About the xbox, no snooping,” he adds as an afterthought.

It’s a bit frustrating how Jaemin seems so cool and collected at all hours of the day, even in the face of law enforcement or the Friday cafeteria cook, whereas Jeno is a constant bundle of uncertainty. He’s just about to give up on the t-shirt situation entirely when he feels a warmth press up against his back and sees a hand sneak out in front of him. Jeno’s body goes rigid, watching in horror as Jaemin reaches into his drawer and grabs a t-shirt, pushing the fabric into Jeno’s chest for him to take. 

“This one. I’m taking you out tonight.” Jaemin’s voice is barely above a whisper, only made louder by the gravely nature of it, and it takes all of Jeno’s will to compose himself and shut his dresser drawer, easily slipping from Jaemin’s personal bubble.

He hates the way Jaemin treats him—well, no he loves it, but hates how confusing it is. Jaemin only likes him as a friend, and is unashamed about all of the girls and the occasional guys he's hooked up with. Jeno is in a one sided affair with his closest friend behind Renjun, and it is equal parts torture as it is exhilarating just to be in Jaemin’s unadulterated presence.

“Taking me out… where?” Jeno finally has the mind to respond, pausing by the bedroom door to watch Jaemin retreat back to his bed as if he owns it. 

“To a party, obviously? It’s a Friday night and you know my rules: no staying in on Friday night unless you have like… a really good reason.” Jaemin pulls himself up against the headboard, legs crossing beneath him as he grabs Jeno’s controller from the nightstand.

“Who says I don't have a good reason?” It seems Jeno has found his normal, personable self with the distance put between them, and his heart has begun to beat normally. Jaemin just shoots him a pointed look at the question though, and Jeno sighs in response. “Okay, okay fair enough.” 

Jeno is thankful for the peace that the shower awards him, the comfort amplified with the knowledge that Mark won't be home for at least several hours, so he can't hear his speakers through the tile of the wall.

Stripping down his sweaty clothes and stepping into the hot water sends a shiver down Jeno’s spine, as if relaxing him from the head down. It’s nice for a few minutes, the steam heavy and water soothing, but that semblance of peace is quickly disrupted when his brain decides to betray him and think back to Jaemin. Jaemin who is in his room and on his bed, granted as he usually is, but there is something in Jeno's head that refuses to let it go.

Jaemin was wearing his usual attire: skimpy, skin tight, black clothes that leave barely anything to the imagination if you're able to piece things together through the rips. It shouldn't be making Jeno half hard in the shower, but he supposes he's only human.

His mind travels further down the rabbit hole, replaying the moment as if it were a movie scene, and tries to grasp onto the feeling of Jaemin pressed up against his back. Could Jeno feel his chest? Did their arms brush? He doesn't know, truthfully the second Jaemin entered his space all hope of thinking left out the window. Now that Jeno has allowed himself to think, he focuses on Jaemin’s smell, very singularly Jaemin in that it's a mix of cigarettes and metal and a cologne that could have Jeno's eyes rolling into the back of his head if he got the chance to smell it long enough.

Jeno Lee is a goner, in every sense of the word, and after daydreaming himself through his entire shower he forces himself beneath cold water as punishment, feeling the biting chill take away whatever heat reamined from Jaemin Na. 

Coming back into his room is, for some reason, very difficult. Jeno has to take a deep breath and steady himself all over again before pushing through the door, towel immediately coming up to ruffle his hair so he can avoid making eye contact with Jaemin on his bed. 

"Feel better?" The familiar convivial voice sounds from the other end of the room as Jeno turns to his laundry basket, tossing the dirty clothes in it along with his used towel. He then takes several moments to adjust his hair, tousling it every which way before deciding he can't spend eternity with his back facing his friend.

"Much," Jeno replies, exhaling in relief when he turns to see that Jaemin is in the exact same digestible spot that Jeno left him in. "So, where exactly is this party tonight?" He settles on asking, falling into his gaming chair to watch Jaemin finish his round of Call of Duty. The choice in seating earns him a momentarily strange look from the younger, but he brushes it off in favor of looking at the screen.

"A friend's house. You've met him, uhh—"

Jaemin gets distracted by a zombie attacking him, mumbling profanities under his breath as he shoots the living hell out of it.

"Donghyuck, you guys have stats together," he finally finishes, the victory badge displaying on the tv to signal his win as he drops his controller onto the bed. "He throws excellent parties, but I've been pretty hesitant to take you because, well, even a normal party isn't exactly your scene, however..." of course, because he's Jaemin, he trails off again for dramatic effect. "I think our worlds need to collide a little bit more, you know? We always hang out in your room or at Renjun's boyfriend's frat parties, which are great, but I think you should see how the other half lives, and, like, meet my friends."

Jeno finally turns to look at Jaemin then, brow raised slightly in mild surprise at the borderline intimate reveal. Jaemin wants the two of them to "collide" more, whatever that means, but it's a clear invitation into his life. Jeno admits he's never exactly been jumping at the chance to see what it is that has Jaemin drunk texting him at 4am to pick him up from strange places, or see the friends that supposedly deal drugs much stronger than weed, or even attempt to experience a fraction of the never-ending excitement that seems to be Jaemin's life. This, however, is an open request to become closer, and Jeno feels he'd be a fool not to take it.

"Okay," he finally responds with a smile that is mirrored back on Jaemin's features. "Does that mean I have to dress the part then? I'm guessing my sense of style would have me sticking out like a sore thumb.”

That seems to amuse Jaemin, seeing as it pulls a genuine laugh from his chest as he takes Jeno in from head to toe. 

“As much as I love your basketball shorts and that sexy white t-shirt that makes your arms look huge, I think you might benefit from some amplified Jaemification,” Jaemin says as he scrutinizes Jeno further, making him feel like he’s being stripped naked with his eyes—and as much as one might think that sounds like a dream to him, it just burgeons him closer to anxiety. “You mind if I go through your drawers?” Jaemin asks as he scoots to the end of the bed, legs dangling off the edge as he waits for permission.

“Uh—“ There’s nothing horribly embarrassing in his dresser, he keeps his lube and condoms in his bedside drawer, he just wasn’t prepared for the nature of the question, however the moment of measly hesitation immediately earns him an amused, quizzical look from Jaemin. “Yeah, just, don’t make fun of my boxers.” Evasion via lighthearted humor, nice job, Jen.

Jaemin seems to get giddy at the consent to do one of his favorite activities: sticking his nose where it does not belong nor is it wanted. Though, Jeno can’t say he minds all that much.

Maybe he’s just a lovesick puppy, but watching Jaemin shuffle through his clothes and lifting up t-shirts and jeans to inspect them is endearing. As much as Jaemin dresses like he’s prepared for a Van Halen concert, he undeniably looks fucking cool.

“Thank god you’re at least a simple guy, I don’t know what I’d do if I opened these drawers and saw a Dr. Pepper graphic tee or something,” Jaemin muses as he pulls out a pair of black skinny jeans and a black button up that’s more of an overshirt than anything. 

“We’ve known each other for years, have you ever seen me wearing a Dr. Pepper graphic tee? Or an embarrassing graphic tee at all for that matter?” Jeno spins back and forth in his gaming chair as he watches Jaemin toss the clothes onto his bed, smiling to himself as he sees the younger drop to the floor to his basket of shoes, shamelessly digging through the different options. 

“Yes, freshman year of high school you wore a Napoleon Dynamite shirt during spirit week, you and Renjun matched for twin day. I could tell you looked horrified though so I guess I can’t count it against you too much.” Jeno is thankful in that moment that Jaemin’s back is to him, because he is sure his brain goes through the equivalent of a sky traffic map to try and decipher what it is that Jaemin just revealed to him.

“You remember that?” The question leaves his lips before he’s even aware that he’s speaking, and he flinches slightly when Jaemin abruptly stops digging through the shoes, shoulders tensing for just long enough to be noticeable before he continues a mental battle between running shoes and a pair of converse.

“You got your picture taken at the front office while I was being given detention for vandalizing the bleachers,” Jaemin replies after a moment, his voice having lost all of its usual vibrance, but Jeno chooses not to press further, giving him an expectant smile when he finally stands from the floor with the pair of black converse.

“Are you gonna give me a tattoo or a piercing or a chain or something?” Jeno tries to lighten the atmosphere with a joke, which thankfully apparently works as Jaemin snorts out a laugh at him.

“Maybe next time, big guy.”

Jeno let’s Jaemin crinkle his clothes and cinch his jeans with a belt and slick his dark hair with gel only to purposefully ruffle it back to a permanently messy state. It’s nice to feel like he’s getting a bit of a makeover, even if it’s just his normal clothes but layered on in shades of black. 

Jaemin also begs Jeno to let him do some eyeliner, which takes multiple tries as Jeno cries it off almost immediately and ends with Jaemin practically in his lap before he finds the will to control his tear ducts.

By the time they’re both ready, the sun is well past set outside, and he and Jaemin find themselves back where they started their afternoon together: in front of his dorm, walking side by side.

“Donghyuck lives right off campus, shouldn’t be more then ten minutes,” Jaemin reassures as he stuffs his hands into his pockets, now sporting one of Jeno’s denim jackets that he made him wear in case it got cold. “You mind if I crash at yours tonight? I know you probably don’t wanna share a bed with a drunken, smelly Jaemin so I can sleep on the couch if you want.” Jeno almost blurts out a definitive yes, but then stops himself mid breath to try and think rationally about how he should respond. They’ve slept in the same bed before, but only during afternoon naps or when Jeno passes out after practice while Jaemin plays games. On one hand, he absolutely doesn’t mind sharing a bed with any kind of Jaemin at all, but on the other he can’t let Jaemin know he’s so eager.

“I think that’d be fine, but I won’t make you sleep on the couch. I think Mark would have a heart attack if he saw you asleep in our living room. You can have the bed.” Jaemin immediately opens his mouth to argue, but closes it with an audible click, nodding in silent agreement.

By the time they reach the block that the house is on, Jeno is already enthralled in listening to Jaemin talk about the logistics of the anatomy of seahorses. He’d decided to take zoology as an elective last semester and since has been filling in conversational gaps with animal facts. Jeno doesn’t mind though, in fact as much as he is a talker himself, he quite likes listening to anything Jaemin has to say. He reasons that it doesn't even have anything to do with his undeniable favoritism, but that Jaemin is just genuinely interesting, and makes everything sound so exciting and worthwhile and fun .

Jaemin leads them up the front steps to a standard house, however the pride and communism flags in the upstairs windows immediately give away that there are college students inside. The music is thrumming the siding of the house, and Jeno feels the faint vibrations in his chest as he chances a look over at Jaemin, who apparently had the same idea as he is already looking at Jeno.

“It’ll be fun, I promise I won’t let them get you,” Jaemin says with a wink, playfully nudging Jeno with his shoulder. It’s silly, barely a brush of their jackets, but it brings a smile to Jeno’s heated cheeks.

“What are they, hyenas?” He tries to play it off lightheartedly, but he is undeniably nervous and Jaemin must’ve sensed as such. Jeno can’t get anything past Jaemin, even if he tried.

“Something like that,” is the last thing Jeno gets to hear before the front door is pulled open, and the muted sounds hit him full force like a bullet train.

No longer is it just him and Jaemin in the cool of the evening, but immediately he’s pulled into a realm of cigarette smoke, LED lights, a table full of red solo cups, and an amass of people dressed like they’re ready to join a motorcycle gang. Jeno’s stomach lurches as he passes the threshold, feeling the air leave the room as the front door shuts behind him. Thankfully though, Jaemin links their arms together, shooting him a reassuring smile that glows slightly thanks to a nearby blacklight.

“Wanna get a drink? I know you don’t love beer but we gotta have cups in our hands or they’ll start throwing tequila shots at us.” Jaemin has to almost yell and lean in close to Jeno’s ear to be heard over the music, and Jeno shivers slightly as his breath ghosts over his skin.

“Uh, yeah! Sure!” Jeno has no choice but to yell back, and though he feels silly for doing so, the smile that illuminates Jaemin’s features is worth it enough.

Jaemin continues to lead them further into the house, keeping Jeno close even as they’re bumped into by a pair of guys chasing each other and a girl already wobbling on her legs to get to the bathroom (Jeno takes a mental note to make sure she’s okay later). The atmosphere on it’s own is quite overwhelming, though as they step into the kitchen the music once again dies down to a dull roar rather than a punch in the face, and Jaemin’s arm attached to his is his anchor to a calm and cool collectiveness.

Jeno takes the red solo cup that he’s handed willingly, holding it against his chest as he watches Jaemin take several gulps from his own. Once he’s downed about half the cup he turns to Jeno, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand and for some reason looks sheepish when their eyes meet.

“You don’t have to drink anything if you don’t want to, by the way,” Jaemin says as he takes a much smaller sip than before. Jeno glances down at the frothy brown liquid in his own cup, his throat already feeling dry just by looking at it, but decides to take a drink anyways. The taste is awful , his features scrunching up as he pulls the cup away from his lips, and when he looks over at Jaemin for some sort of approval, the younger is giggling at him. “What?” Jeno asks with his own confused laugh.

“You’re cute.” 

We’re sorry, but the number you have called is no longer in service, he is too busy having an emotional breakdown over a boy, please hang up and try again.

“Jaemin!” The sound of his name being called pulls Jaemin’s attention away from Jeno to his dismay, and they both spin around to see a guy with brown and purple hair approaching them with outstretched arms. Jeno recognizes him as Donghyuck, smartest kid in his stats class and occupant of the home they are currently in, and notices that he’s dressed in the same sort of get up as Jaemin. “There you are. Everyone’s going upstairs to smoke, you guys coming?” The use of the term “you guys” has Jeno immediately snapping his head to look at Jaemin in panic, because he doesn’t remember signing up for that.

“My little star athlete here can’t smoke, but I’m down. If that’s...” Jaemin pauses then, turning to Jeno too but as if asking his permission , and Jeno chokes on his words trying to decide what exactly it is he’s supposed to say. “Do you mind? It’ll be quick. I promise I’ll come right back for you.” He’s equal parts flattered as he is embarrassed that Jaemin feels like he needs Jeno’s blessing to have fun at the party he was nice enough to take Jeno to, but he settles on grasping onto the embarrassment and shrugging in response.

“I don’t mind at all, go have fun.” Jeno gives him a smile, as genuine as he can muster, and watches in defeat as Jaemin is whisked away by his friend, the pair giggling as they retreat for the stairs.

Well, Jeno had Jaemin for all of six seconds before losing him to his cooler counterparts, so he supposes that’s successful enough and all he deserves.

Not wanting to loiter in the kitchen anymore and feeling like he might faint in the stuffy atmosphere without Jaemin by his side, Jeno makes his way to the back of the house where the back door is. It’s already pushed open, and people are freely moving in and out as he forces himself through, greeted by the cool of the night time air. The patio is a raised deck that has steps that lead you down to the grassed yard, but Jeno decides to sit on the edge of the deck, his feet dangling as he takes another mindless sip from his cup of nightmares. 

He shouldn’t feel so bad about it, in fact, he knows he has zero right in the entire world to feel even slightly bad about it, but still he can’t help the disappointment that creeps up on him like a cat to a mouse. The feeling is only aggravated by the fact that he’s not even upset with Jaemin, but mostly upset with himself for not being able to immerse himself fully in the world that Jaemin resides in. Jeno knows that getting high and bleaching his hair isn’t gonna make Jaemin magically fall in love with him, but the vicious monster that is a crush is never rational. For a moment Jeno even wonders if Jaemin wanted to take him, or if it was just a matter of being polite so he wouldn’t up and ditch Jeno, but then he pushes that thought as far away from himself as he can because no matter how sorry for himself he gets he refuses to think of Jaemin in any sort of unwarranted negative light. Is his night ruined? Perhaps. But he will still wait for Jaemin because that’s what he always does and that’s what he thinks he’ll be doing forever: waiting.

“Hey, is this seat taken?” The gentle sound of a girl's voice pulls Jeno from his thoughts, and he’s relieved when he sees a familiar face smiling down at him.

“Jimin.” He stares at her a moment longer before his brain kicks in again. “No, please,” he finally replies as he scoots over a bit, making room for the girl with long black hair and tight skinny jeans, like Jaemin , Jeno immediately thinks. She’s in his economics class, and had his psychology class freshman year, and they often choose each other for group projects because they’re equally afraid of everybody else. “Didn’t think this was your scene,” Jeno adds as she plops down next to him, a matching red solo cup in her hand that's just as full as Jeno’s.

“It’s not, but I know it’s not your scene either.” She gives him an expectant look, bringing her drink up to her lips slowly to take a sip as if waiting for Jeno to come up with an excuse before she makes one for him.

“Yeah, I mean, I’m just trying new things and—”

“Jaemin?” He doesn’t get to finish, his poor attempt at digging himself out of the hole only burrowing him impossibly deeper. 

“Yeah.” He resigns with a sigh, but that only makes her laugh, a light laugh that sounds like a fairy. He likes Jimin a lot, gets coffee with her sometimes, and has divulged many of his boy crises to her, However in exchange she relays her girl crises to him, so he figures them even. “Don’t tell me Min is the reason you’re here too.” They stare at each other, looks of defeated amusement bubbling on both of their features, before eventually bursting out into laughter. A couple of lovesick fools.

“I wish I could tell you that, but then I’d be a filthy liar.” Jimin turns away to look straight ahead then, watching curiously as a man drunkenly talks to a dog in the lawn. “How ironic that the people leading us along by our necks run in the same social circles. I bet Jaemin’s smoking right now, no?”

“Ding ding ding,” Jeno affirms concommittaly, following her gaze out onto the lawn as she leans her head on his shoulder. “I like how we both wore black for them too. Is this considered pathetic?” Jimin bursts out in another fit of laughter at that, her frame vibrating against Jeno that gives him no choice but to laugh along with her, even if at their own expense.

“I definitely stole this leather jacket from her closet.”

“And Jaemin practically dressed me before we came.”

The pair sit in silence then, wallowing in their own yearning and not in need of sharing any words beyond that. It’s nice though, for Jeno to have someone he can actually talk about Jaemin with who understands, because Renjun is in a nice stable relationship with his brick wall of a boyfriend and always tells Jeno he’s overthinking things. However it’s impossible for Jeno to not overthink when it comes to Jaemin. He’s not just some guy that Jeno wants to kiss and move on from. He grabs Jeno by the seat of his stupid pants and makes him feel alive and Jeno feels like having the audacity to have a measly hope that Jaemin would like him back is entirely selfish. Jaemin deserves someone who can keep up with him, someone who isn’t afraid of anything and would climb mountains and jump cliffs for him. Jaemin is sunrise and campfires and strobe lights, and he deserves someone who can be equally as blinding. Someone like—

“Jeno?” Like a ship to a lighthouse, Jeno turns immediately at the sound of Jaemin’s voice, knowing exactly the proximity he’s in and how high he is just by the subtle lilts it has. Jimin also lifts her head from Jeno’s shoulder then, turning to Jaemin with a smile.

“All done?” She asks rather than Jeno being the one to address him, and Jaemin doesn’t look very pleased about it.

“Uh, yeah, Min’s inside,” he replies without even looking at her, eyes locked on Jeno as if he’d done something wrong. For a moment Jeno worries he has, but as soon as Jimin stands and disappears inside the house, his features soften to address Jeno. “The guys wanna meet you, you coming?” Jeno stands immediately at the question, brushing off his jeans awkwardly as if the action can also brush off the weird moment with Jaemin.

“Yeah, lead the way,” Jeno mumbles as he approaches Jaemin, ready to take his place by his side but instead is actually led, Jaemin turning before he can walk with him as if expecting Jeno to follow.

Of course Jeno does—follow, that is. Follows him through the living room where the music is loudest, through a hallway where the bathrooms reside, and eventually finds himself in a second sort of living space. If the house were used for a normal family it’d be like a front room, or a family room, but it instead is just a room with a couch and a couple bean bags and a foosball table.

Jeno looks around to see who exactly it is he’s meeting, and realizes he recognizes all save for one. Johnny, Yuta, Kun, Sooyoung, and then the one he doesn’t recognize who sits next to Johnny, dawning long black hair that feathers out around his neck. He suddenly realizes that Donghyuck and Min aren’t there, and wonders when Jaemin has ever actually hung out with these people.

As he’s taking his little gander, Jaemin must get impatient, pulling him by the hand towards one of the bean bags before plopping back onto it, still attached to Jeno which forces him to fall back as well with a quiet “oof”.

“Here he is,” Jaemin announces with a bit of his usual vibrance returning, chuckling to himself as Jeno situates them in the awkward seat of choice until they’re smushed comfortably together, shoulder to shoulder. “I doctored him up a bit, but he’s still pretty cool in the day to day.”

“We’ve met.” Johnny acknowledges him with a raise of his cup and a smile, bringing the red plastic to his lips as he nudges the guy next to him.

“Oh, I’m Ten,” the new guy says. He’s about Renjun’s height, Jeno thinks, and is much more smiley than the others.

“Johnny’s little lap dog,” Kun mumbles under his breath, earning him a harsh smack to the back of his head from Johnny’s hand that was around Ten’s shoulders. “Ow! Sorry, jesus.” He reaches a hand up to rub at his afflicted skull as he gives a halfhearted wave to Jeno. Then lastly there’s Yuta and Sooyoung on the other bean bag, passing a cigarette back and forth as they also shoot Jeno some smiles. Jeno doesn’t know them at all, just knows that they’re the scariest bastards in the group, Sooyoung being capable of murder, he’s sure. Jeno also knows that Yuta is a dealer, but claims he doesn’t deal in “kiddy stuff”, whatever that means, Jeno has no clue.

“So, your parents let you out after curfew, huh?” Sooyoung asks him after a beat, her hair slicked back and eyes smudged with dark makeup. “Or, is it the pound that let you off the leash?”

“Don’t be a bitch, dude,” Johnny scolds from across the room, throwing his empty cup at her which she swats away without a second thought.

“Don’t be a pussy, dude,” she retorts mockingly, flipping him off before taking the cigarette back from Yuta. “I’m just trying to get to know the little guy.”

“No, you’re being a fucking cunt.” Jeno’s head whips to see Jaemin glaring at the girl, gaze defiant as if in warning.

“Soo’s just messing around. We’re just curious how much it is to take care of a dog, clearly the time factor must be exhausting because Jaemin is always running to you instead of being where he’s supposed to be.” Yuta eyes are like daggers, and Jeno flicks his gaze from Jaemin’s profile to Yuta’s poisonous stare, the situation escalating far too fast for Jeno to keep up with. 

“If nobody has anything productive to say I’m just gonna take Jeno home,” Jaemin bites out, looking around at everyone in the room as if daring them to continue. 

“Aw, that’s so cute, it’s like you’re married. Does he cook and clean for you too?” This time it’s Kun who adds fuel to the fire, and Jeno’s face burns red as he realizes very quickly that this was an intense mistake. Jaemin’s friends think he’s some golden retriever that gets kept around as a pet, and involuntarily the thought makes his stomach churn unpleasantly.

“Uh—” Jeno goes to speak, to escape, to do something , but in between where his and Jaemin’s hands are squished between their thighs, he feels Jaemin’s pinky link with his, as if silently asking him to hold on.

“I can see we’re too drunk to be nice, so let me know when you’ve retrieved your head from your sphincters and then maybe I’ll consider letting you guys back into the Mirage.” The snickering immediately dies down at the comment, threat? Jeno truthfully has no idea what the fuck just happened, but he doesn’t even have time to ask as Jaemin stands from the bean bag, hoisting Jeno up with him.

“Jaem, c’mon man we were just kidding.” Jeno turns to Yuta at the sound of his voice, all signs of amusement wiped from his face, as well as stolen from the air. “You can’t keep us from Mirage over a boy.”

“Yuta, would you shut the fuck up? You’re just gonna make it worse.” The exchange in voices is about to give Jeno whiplash, but a part of him feels slightly better when he turns to Johnny and sees an apologetic smile. However, emphasis on slightly, because mostly Jeno feels very confused, and very much like he’s walked in on someone else's parents threatening divorce. What the hell is Mirage and why does Jaemin hold the all powerful access to it? Jeno lightly rests his fingers on Jaemin’s arm to try and get his attention, but it’s an altogether lost cause.

“No, Johnny, by all means let them make things worse.” Jaemin’s voice is calm, almost too calm, dripping in a serpentine confidence that makes Jeno go rigid. “You ungrateful fuckers were the ones who asked to see the guy I’ve been hanging out with instead of you, but I think your dense, cum-filled brains just proved my point as to why I choose him over you. Good luck getting your kicks at college parties for the rest of your lives, you useless fucking clowns.” Then before Jeno can even take a breath he’s being pulled away, dragged out of the room and through the hall to the first door Jaemin sees. The younger shoves Jeno inside, following in immediately after before shutting the door behind them with a huff. Jeno looks around to see that they’re in a white tiled bathroom, a plain blue shower curtain and a half empty bottle of hand soap on the counter it’s only signs of life.

Jaemin is obviously furious, shoulders tense as he takes a deep breath to try and calm himself. Jeno wonders if it’d be worth it to say something, but finds soon enough he doesn’t have to.

“I’m really sorry, Jen.” His voice is much softer than it was a mere five seconds ago, a defeated look quickly overtaking his frustration and anger. “You know I don’t think of you that way, right?” Oh. Jeno isn’t sure what he was expecting him to say, if he’s being honest, but it definitely wasn’t that. Jaemin isn’t sorry that his friends caused a scene, but sorry that it might have hurt Jeno’s feelings, and that just adds to the whirlwind of thoughts circling around Jeno’s head like flies.

“I know,” is all Jeno can mutter in reply as he slinks back against the wall, chest inflating painfully when Jaemin finally looks at him. It’s not just a look, not just gazes meeting, but a plea, as if asking Jeno for something that Jeno doesn’t how how to give because he doesn’t know what Jaemin’s asking. “They’re just jerks.” Jaemin has the decency to huff a laugh at that, features reluctantly turning up in a soothing smile. 

“Yeah, the biggest jerks. I should’ve known you’d be too good for them.” It’s then that Jaemin looks away, eyeing himself in the mirror with a defeated sigh. Jeno is still processing his words. “Wanna go back to your place? I don’t have to stay anymore, you probably want to be alone.”

“No.” Jeno can’t stop himself from blurting it out, because this was his chance to get Jaemin in a space he’s never really had him before. People are vulnerable after dark, when houses are quiet and breathing is steady, and he wants to know what Jaemin looks like in those shades of gray. “You can stay. I want you to.” 

Even with Jaemin turned so only his profile is visible, Jeno can see his body calm, most of the tension bleeding out of him so he’s nearly back to normal. Jeno has millions of questions on the tip of his tongue, but he won’t disturb Jaemin’s peace to ask him.

CANTO II.

The walk back to his apartment is mostly quiet, their arms brushing up against each other every now and then as Jaemin makes remarks about the various suburban houses and places on campus he’s thrown up at or lit on fire. The energy between them is still a bit tense, like a piece of yarn holding on by only a few of its threads, but Jaemin seems determined to keep them connected, refusing to let Jeno’s thoughts stray too far from him.

When they get back to Jeno’s dorm, Jeno gives Jaemin a towel and some sweats so he can shower and divest the smell of cigarettes and weed from his clothes, (which Jeno swore he wouldn’t mind if Jaemin slept in his bed with, because he could always wash the sheets tomorrow if Jaemin was tired, but Jaemin insisted). As Jaemin is showering, Jeno pulls out a few of the spare blankets from the basket beside his couch and begins to make himself a little bed, trying to cushion his neck as much as possible or he’ll suffer the consequences for weeks at practice. Once satisfied with his couch nest, he hears the patter of feet on carpet from behind him, and he turns to see a freshly cleaned Jaemin; no eyeliner hiding his warm brown eyes or black clothes hardening his edges. He’s just… cozy, the barest minimum Jaemin, and Jeno feels his heart constrict.

“Jeno, I’m not letting you sleep on this couch.” There’s a slight air of amusement to his tone, but also his features are turned up with a raised brow to let Jeno know that he’s serious. “C’mon, give me the couch.”

“No,” Jeno replies all too easily, always the stubborn one, and instead immediately sits down on the couch, laying down onto his pillows and throwing the blanket over himself. “Goodnight.” He closes his eyes, a smile still plaguing his lips as he waits for the inevitable shit Jaemin’s going to give him.

“Fine,” is all Jeno gets before he hears Jaemin dropping to the floor, shuffling around a bit before sighing out in feigned comfort. “Goodnight, Jeno.” Jeno cracks an eye open, then the other one, and peeks over to see Jaemin laying on the floor next to the couch. 

“What are you doing?” He can’t help but laugh a little bit, even if Jaemin is making things harder than they need to be. 

“If you’re not going to sleep in your bed, then I’m not going to either, so either get in your bed, or shut up and give me a blanket.” Jaemin talks with his eyes still closed, resting on his crossed arms that are serving as a makeshift pillow as he lays on his stomach. Jeno knows he really can’t win this, and ponders the inevitable outcome of the situation before resigning with a sigh.

“Fine,” he concedes, sitting up and grabbing his pillows to hold as he stands. “But let’s just both sleep in there, okay? It’s not like we haven’t before.” There’s a slight silence that follows, a mere moment of processing the statement, before Jaemin is sitting up with a grin.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he replies as he pushes himself off the ground, extending his hand for Jeno to take, which he does willingly. It’s a bit silly, he thinks, being walked to bed like a child with his blanket in tow, but he doesn’t dare complain, not to Jaemin.

When the pair are finally behind his closed bedroom door, there’s a moment of hesitation that seeps into Jeno, because his bed is pushed into the corner and which side does Jaemin prefer to sleep on and does he snore? Jeno doesn’t even know if he snores. However as if reading his mind, Jaemin grabs the bedding from Jeno’s arms and situates them onto the bed properly before sliding into the spot closest to the wall. He then turns onto his side, looking up at Jeno with his head resting on the pillow and Jeno nearly dies right there on the spot.

“Are you coming or are you just gonna stand and sleep there like a horse?” Jaemin smiles and like a mirror Jeno smiles back, willing himself forward as he too crawls into bed, situating himself to lay on his side facing Jaemin. “There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” It’s rhetorical, but still Jeno shakes his head. In the peace of the dark room a million questions immediately flood back to him as his body relaxes into the mattress, but there’s only one that really matters, only one that Jeno cares to know the answer to. 

“Are you okay?” It’s a secret he’s asking for, something that he knows requires Jaemin to drop his facade of unbreakable nonchalance. “You were… scary back there. I’ve never seen you so angry.” Jaemin’s eyes flutter shut at that, only for a moment, but it’s long enough for Jeno to admire the way the moonlight outside casts a shadow of his lashes onto his cheeks before he’s met with his eyes once again. 

“That’s because you never make me angry.” It’s not the secret Jeno’s expecting, but an admittance nonetheless. He’s not sure what to do with it, but he holds it carefully and waits. “I’m fine. They’re just… assholes. I didn’t expect them to act so rude to you and I should’ve known why they wanted to meet you at all and truth be told they’re not even really my friends. Donghyuck’s my friend, Min’s my friend, but you didn’t even get to meet them and—“ he cuts himself off with a sigh, eyes flicking back and forth between Jeno’s own. “It’s not important. Just know that… I don’t keep you around as some pet. The fact that they even thought of suggesting it made me feel sick.” Yeah, me too , Jeno thinks to himself, but doesn’t dare interrupt Jaemin as pieces of himself are spilled out onto the blue sheets, seeping into the fabric and soaking Jeno’s skin. “You’re my friend. One of the only people who’s ever been actually nice to me and sometimes I wonder why you even keep me around cause god knows I don’t deserve you.” Jeno wonders if these are the things that write stories and film movies. If these moments are the fabrics of unrequited love, meant to break the audience's heart and Jeno’s along with it. 

“Don’t say that.” Jeno refuses to let Jaemin think that he doesn’t deserve Jeno, because it’s Jeno who is always fighting to keep up. Jaemin is the sun wrapped up into one body, and Jeno revolves around him like the planets. “You’re right, I’m your friend. I’m your friend because I choose to be, because I—“ I like you. I want you more than I need air to breathe. “I think we make each other better.” Jaemin finally looks down at that, gaze settling on the general direction of Jeno’s chest to avoid his eyes as he smiles.

“I can’t imagine how in the world I make you better, Jeno. You’re perfect.” The words burn, they sear his skin and make him want to cry, because they don’t mean to Jaemin what they mean to him. He swallows them nonetheless, extinguishes the flames with his throat and exhales the smoke like a dragon who can no longer breathe fire. 

“Jaemin,” he starts to get said boys attention, smiling softly when their eyes meet again. “Don’t insinuate for a single second that you are less than you are. You make me better because you make me braver, more myself, more willing to try new things.” These aren’t just words of comfort, but the truth that invades Jeno’s thoughts every hour of every day. He likes Jaemin because he makes Jeno feel like for once in his 20 years of life that maybe he’s actually human. The fact that Jaemin can’t even see it makes him almost want to laugh. “And I’m not perfect.”

“If you say so,” is all he gets in reply, knowing that Jaemin refuses to indulge him further as he snuggles into the pillow, pulling the blanket up to his neck. “Now go to sleep. It’s late and you have to go to the gym tomorrow afternoon with your team.” Jeno gapes slightly at that, because even he forgot he had to do that.

“How did you—“

“Goodnight, Jen.” That’s that, he knows it, and he concedes to Jaemin willingly.

“Goodnight.”

Though he’s lulled to sleep by the mere sound of Jaemin’s breathing, he can’t forget the events that transpired just hours ago. The cover of night protects our secrets and keeps them safe, but it’s the harsh light of day that makes us face them, and Jeno fears what tomorrow will bring.

He feels it before he sees it. 

There's a warmth in bed next to him, something dipping the mattress and touching Jeno on various parts of his body. There’s a hand on his forearm, a leg brushing up against his own, and though Jeno wants to jump out of bed and scream, he swallows the panic instead, steadying his breathing before letting his eyes creak open. He’s immediately thankful he caught his breath first, because what he’s met with threatens to take it away again.

Jaemin is still asleep, eyes shut and lips parted slightly with half his face smushed into the pillow. Jeno’s eyes dart down to where they’re connected, and sure enough Jaemin is holding onto him, keeping him in place so he can’t move even if he wanted to—which of course he does not. Beneath the blankets their knees are touching, and Jeno thinks that if he shifted just a little bit they could link those too, but he controls himself. 

The soft light of the morning sun shines down on them, emitting so much warmth that Jeno feels like a cat having its afternoon nap. He takes this extremely rare moment of calm to observe Jaemin when he’s not playing a part or cussing people out or teasing Jeno for not knowing the lifespan of a fly (curse his zoology course). In this moment Jaemin is almost not Jaemin at all, or rather, the most Jaemin he’s ever been. Jeno can see where his t-shirt rides up on his arm, the tattoo of a moth that covers a good part of his bicep. The fingers that are curved around his forearm are still covered in various rings, and Jaemin’s platinum blonde absorbs the sun so it’s usually icy effect becomes amiable. Jeno thinks this is what people see when they go to heaven, the image of untouched serenity.

“You’re staring at me.” Jeno jumps at the sound of his voice, hearing it before he even registers that Jaemin’s lips were moving while he was doing said staring. 

“I wasn’t.” Liar . “I just woke up.” Jeno tries to cover himself miserably, but Jaemin’s tired smile that curves up at the corner of his mouth is enough to know he’s been given away. However, then Jaemin opens his eyes, and Jeno forgets to be embarrassed. 

“Good morning,” Jaemin says sleepily, his voice strained from sleep and full body chill worthy. It’s only after he blinks awake a few more times, yawning into the pillow while squeezing Jeno’s forearm in a stretch, does he subsequently let him go, pulling his limbs back to himself. “Sorry, I’m a cuddler. It could’ve been much worse.” Jeno’s mind blanks momentarily, quite literally just static as he tries not to cry at how cute Jaemin looks and sounds and is . He also feels like slapping himself, because if he keeps acting weird then Jaemin’s not going to be his friend at all, let alone keep having sleepovers in his bed. 

“I don’t mind. I’ve held your necklaces back while you’ve thrown up so I think I can handle some skin on skin.” That earns him a laugh and a shove to his chest from Jaemin, but he just chuckles along with him, admiring the way his smile shines brighter than the sun outside his window. 

“Jesus, that makes me sound like a toddler you take care of.” Jaemin’s laughter dies down to a tiny giggle, his hand coming up to rest on his stomach as he flops over onto his back.

“As opposed to being your dog you keep on a leash?” Jeno asks teasingly, matching Jaemin’s position by laying on his back as well. Their laughter completely quiets down to nothing, and for a moment Jeno wonders if perhaps he shouldn’t have made jokes about the comment, seeing as it upset Jaemin so much. He’s about to turn and ask, but before his eyes can even catch a glimpse of the other boy, he’s being pinned back onto the bed, Jaemin sitting on his stomach as he straddles him. 

“I thought we discussed this. You’re not my pet.” Jeno stops breathing, or perhaps the world stops spinning, or maybe Jaemin just killed him and this is the afterlife. He doesn’t know how to function his body, let alone find words to say, and all can do is stare up at Jaemin above him with wide eyes. He doesn’t even try to struggle, but Jaemin pushes onto him harder as if he does. “Take it back.”

“I—“ Jeno chokes on nothing, limbs trying to decide if they should go rigid or completely slack. “I take it back,” he finally sputters out, watching in further horror as Jaemin leans down closer, so close his hair brushes against Jeno’s forehead. 

“You swear?” Jaemin’s features are expectant, but turned down in displeasure and annoyance, and as much as Jeno would love to blurt out that I don’t care, keep me on a leash and drag me around by my throat , he simply can’t, so he opts for a nod.

“I swear,” Jeno replies, swallowing around nothing as he watches Jaemin’s features relax. “A—are you gonna get off?” 

“Mm,” Jaemin hums, refusing to back down as he stares at Jeno, his displeasure turning into a smirk. “Make me.” God . Jeno dies, dies again, passes away 50 times over as his brain shuts down and all hopes of functioning normally ever again leaves him—but then he realizes that this is an opportunity presented to him. If he doesn’t get his act together and play Jaemin’s game, he’ll never forgive himself. 

“Okay.” Jeno pauses, watching Jaemin’s brow raise, before using all of his weight to roll Jaemin over onto his back, flipping their positions entirely by pressing Jaemin’s hands into the mattress. Jeno is much stronger than Jaemin, so he knows any attempts to fight back would be useless, but still he tries. Jaemin struggles against Jeno’s hold, as if testing if he’s really trying, and it makes Jeno grip him harder. “Feel made?”

“Very.” Jaemin smiles, all teeth and a sparkle in his eye. If this were a movie Jeno would lean down and kiss him. Capture his smartass grin with his own lips and kiss away any hopes of regaining power. If it were a movie he’d remove Jaemin’s shirt, kiss down his chest and feel his muscle contract beneath his touch. Movie Jeno and Jaemin are breathing each other’s breath, touching each other’s skin, and admitting things they’ve never told anybody. 

But this isn’t a movie, so he lets go and rolls off.

“Are you hungry?” Jeno asks as he slips off his bed, avoiding looking in Jaemin’s direction as he listens to the sound of his sheets rustling behind him.

“I am, but I unfortunately have to see my family today.” Jeno pauses at his desk, taking a breath before turning as he always inevitably would to look at Jaemin as he continues. “Those people you met last night kinda work for my dad. I don’t know how the argument… affected that.” Jaemin reaches up and runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back and out of his face, and like a weak man Jeno admires his cheeks that are still puffy from sleep. 

“Your dad?” Jeno wonders allowed with a furrowed brow, even more questions punching him in the face and knocking him on his ass. “I thought your dad was an accountant?” He should stop, he knows it. Jaemin is always touchy about his family, and when things get too personal he shuts Jeno down entirely, but this time all he does is grimace. 

“I didn’t say accountant, I said like an accountant.” Jaemin scratches his nape, and the push and pull to give it up or press for more eats away at Jeno’s insides. “Anyways, rain check?” He asks as he stands from the bed, grabbing his boots and bag that Jeno put his clothes into. 

“For breakfast? Sure.” Thankfully, as always, Jaemin doesn’t give him a chance to decide, and Jeno is forced to lead Jaemin out of his room, the spell from the early morning breaking immediately. 

When they reach the front door of his apartment, Jaemin pauses to face Jeno in the doorway, a look that Jeno can’t decipher on his features. 

“Thanks for letting me stay,” he mumbles out as he looks up and down and around and anywhere but Jeno. Jaemin seems almost nervous , which in turn makes Jeno also very nervous, a sense of impending doom settling in his stomach. 

“You don’t have to thank me. I like having you around.” It's a thinly veiled version of the truth, maybe even a half truth that doesn’t at all describe the layers to Jeno’s enjoyment of Jaemin, but still it brings a smile to Jaemin’s face. 

“Okay, good.” Jaemin nods, and the two stare a moment longer, as if not wanting the moment to end, as if it is the end of ends. “I’ll call you. Bye, Jen.” 

Jeno waves him along, watching him leave down the hall for just long enough to be almost creepy before shutting himself back in his room.

But what he doesn’t see is that when Jaemin reaches the end of the hall, he turns back to find Jeno, only to see him already gone.

Jeno waits, and Jaemin doesn’t call.

At first he doesn’t think much of it. A day passes, then two, then he goes to class Tuesday morning and Jaemin isn’t waiting for him in the hall afterwards like he always does. Then Jeno texts him, asks if he’s okay, but doesn’t even get left on read; the messages don’t get read at all. Jeno even resorts to texting Jimin to see if Min knows where he is, but she claims she has no idea.

Jeno would resort to Donghyuck, but he too is nowhere to be found. He begins to wonder if he made Jaemin up, if it was all a fever dream or if he’s stuck in a really shitty alternate universe.

He doesn’t get extremely concerned until Friday rolls around again, and by then, he’s full on fucking panicked.

“Jeno, calm down, you said the kids worked for his dad, right? Maybe if they left he had to pick up the slack and just got busy.” Renjun is sitting at his desk in his apartment, and Jeno is sprawled out on his bed while Renjun’s boyfriend, Yukhei, sits in the little bean bag at the end of the bed that faces the tv.

“Yeah, you guys were like, best friends, I don’t think he’d up and leave you on purpose,” Yukhei adds before crunching on another cheez-it.

“Woah there, let’s cool it with the b-word,” Renjun grumbles at the man, and receives a noncommittal shrug. “Look, do you know where he lives?” This time his question is directed at Jeno, and as much as it is a simple question, it makes him want to cry.

“No. He always comes to my place. Says he lives too far away for it to be convenient.” It dawns on him that perhaps Jaemin just said that to keep him at a distance, and his urge to be sick comes all over again. Jaemin really never told Jeno anything about himself apart from the things that were immediately important. Jaemin is a business major, but only because his dad wants him to, and he actually really loves science. Jaemin got his first tattoo when he was seventeen, a serpent on his ankle, and doesn’t regret it one bit. Jaemin is a leo and his favorite snack is sour candy and his favorite movie is Kill Bill . On the surface it seems like so much, but then Jeno realizes he doesn’t even know if Jaemin has siblings, or where he was born, or his parents' names . Jaemin is just a character without a backstory, and Jeno was foolish enough to fall in love with him. 

“Have you tried talking to Johnny?” Yukhei’s question is followed by silence, and Jeno sits up as he and Renjun turn to look at him. “What?”

“How do you know Johnny?” Is Jeno’s first question. “And how did you know he knows Jaemin?” Is his second. 

“I have a few classes with him. He’s a sociology major and I like sociology classes,” Yukhei says with a shrug. “I could call him if you want, we hangout sometimes. He’s always complaining about how all of his friends complain that Jaemin ditches them for you. He says he doesn’t mind though because Jaemin seems to really—“

“Yukhei.” Renjun cuts him off, waving his hands for him to stop. “Call Johnny. Right now please or I think Jeno might die in our bedroom.” Immediately Yukhei pauses his show, pulling his phone out like he’s asked and Jeno takes a moment to admire how willing he is to do whatever it is Renjun asks him to do, no questions needing answered. 

Jeno folds in on himself as Yukhei calls the number, the dial tone barely audible through where the speaker is connected to his ear as Jeno pulls his knees up to his chest. He’s not sure what he’s expecting Johnny to say. It’s either another dead end and Johnny doesn’t know, or he does know and Jaemin is just avoiding him.

“Uh, hi, sorry to call you randomly but I—no, yeah no I’m good. You?” Yukhei gives an apologetic grimace as he looks between Renjun whisper-shouting at him to get on with it and Jeno about to pass out. “Yeah, actually, I was just wondering if you knew where Jaemin is?” There’s a pause, Yukhei’s features dropping slightly. “Oh, why? Yes why is definitely the question isn't it. Uhm—“ Renjun jumps out of his desk chair, exasperated, and grabs the phone from Yukhei before holding it against his ear. 

“Listen, tell Jaemin to call Jeno back or I’m going to find him and kill him myself, okay?” Jeno pales immediately, scrambling off the bed to try and grab the phone from Renjun but he easily evades him, escaping to hide behind Yukhei on the floor.

“Renjun, give me the fucking phone,” Jeno demands, pleads, holding his hand out but is quickly rejected with a shooing motion from Renjun. “Renjun, I’m serious give—“

“What?” Renjun’s face twists in confusion, his hand pausing mid air before falling down to his side. Jeno isn’t sure if that’s a good sign or not, but he ultimately assumes the worst. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. I’ll tell him,” Renjun sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before hanging the phone up and tossing it onto Yukhei’s lap. 

“Please don’t tell me.” Jeno almost manages to make it sound like a joke, but the dread that overcomes him steals any humility left in his voice. 

“Jen,” Renjun pulls himself up, carefully walking over to Jeno before guiding him back to sit down on the bed. Typically Jeno would’ve shoved him off and told him to get it over with, but he’s not sure he wants to know at all. “Jaemin is…” he pauses, deciding that sitting down next to Jeno on the bed is better than standing in front of him. “He’s at Donghyuck’s. He’s been there since Tuesday and he asked Johnny not to say anything to you, but he sounded kinda pissed so he… did anyways.” 

Huh , Jeno thinks to himself, his heart shattering into a million pieces and stabbing through his organs until everything hurts all at once. Jaemin is ignoring him. Jaemin is a 7 minute walk away and is ignoring him. Jaemin is sleeping at Donghyuck’s—maybe even with Donghyuck—and is ignoring him.

Maybe he decided Jeno just wasn’t a good fit for his life. Maybe his friends or his dad’s employees gave him too much shit and he decided to save himself some grief. Maybe he got bored with Jeno. Maybe he’s been fucking Donghyuck this whole time and that night at the party made him realize he was tired of bothering with Jeno at all. Maybe. Maybe. 

“Look, I’m really sorry, Jen, but he was a bad dude. I feel like maybe you’re better—“

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Jeno cuts Renjun off, peeling himself away from the comfort of his best friend to stand in the middle of the room. “He wasn’t a bad dude, he—he isn’t. I can’t believe you think that way about him.” It’s irrational, word vomit spurred on by denial, but he can’t stop himself. “I’m not better off without him. I’m a fucking fly on the wall. A fucking nobody.” Jeno swallows around nothing, trying to choke down the tears threatening to fall. “He’s… he’s not a bad guy. He’s not.” 

“Jeno,” Renjun starts, trying to stand to comfort him but Jeno takes a step back. 

“I gotta go,” is all he says before turning to stumble out of Renjun’s apartment, heart beating in his ears and hands going numb as he ignores Renjun’s pleas for him to come back. Even if he wanted to turn back Jeno doesn’t think he can. The sides of his vision black out, narrowing his line of sight as he takes the walk back to his dorm. The sun is nearly entirely set, and it’s officially been 7 days since Jaemin showed up on his front steps, asking to come in. It seems so long ago now, but everywhere Jaemin’s skin touched his still burns.

When Jeno gets up to his room he immediately falls into his bed, shutting his phone off without checking the 10 messages or 3 missed calls from Renjun. The darkness in his room wraps around him like a heavy cloud, weighing him down as he drops his phone off the side of the bed and curls into himself beneath the covers. 

Jeno tells himself over and over and over again that Jaemin isn’t a bad guy, screams it into the universe and carves it into his chest. Jeno refuses to think that Jaemin could hurt him, would want to hurt him, and yet there he is, crying because he broke his heart. 

CANTO III.

It takes Jeno four days to leave his room. 

Saturday and Sunday pass in a muddied, silent blur, his phone staying shut off the entire time, and only letting Renjun know he’s okay by delivering him and Yukhei a pizza from his computer with a note saying, “ Not dead. Just dealing. -Jeno” 

Monday he skips classes and his morning practice, using Marks phone to call his coach and tell him he’s got the flu. He spends that day trying but failing to catch up on homework, and instead spends the majority of it staring off into space, unsure if he wants to remember Jaemin or shove him so deep down inside himself that it really would be like he never existed. Briefly Jeno wonders if Jaemin has returned to school, but the thought of bumping into him just makes him nauseous so he decides to no longer ponder it. 

On Tuesday, the fourth day, Mark leaves early for an exam. Jeno is up when he goes, not having slept at all the night before, and pays no mind to the sounds of his roommate scrambling around in a rush. 

It’s not until about 25 minutes later that Jeno gets a notification on his computer of an email from Mark. For a second he wonders why Mark is emailing him, but then he remembers that his phone is shut off, so it must be an emergency. His assumptions are confirmed when he clicks the email, but all it does is fill him with dread. 

“ Hey, Jen. I know you’re really sad and I promise to make it up to you but my exam is open notes and I FORGOT MY FUCKING NOTES ON THE TABLE!!!! Please please PLEASE bring them to Baxter Hall ASAP!! MY EXAM IS IN TEN MINUTES.

Sent From My iPhone”

Jeno sighs, really not wanting to leave the safety of his room just yet, but decides that the chances of him seeing absolutely anybody at eight in the morning on a Tuesday is quite slim, so he tells Mark he’ll be right there. 

When Jeno leaves his bedroom, sure enough, there's Mark's notebook staring directly at him where Mark said it would be. He slips his nearest pair of running shoes on, not bothering to change out of his gym shorts and black hoodie before swiping the notebook off the table and stepping out into the open air after what felt like years of being hidden inside.

Immediately the sun outside his building is far too bright for his liking, the noise also an assault to his eardrums. A part of him wants to turn around and tell Mark to try better next time, but then that would just make him an unnecessary asshole, so he stomachs it.

Some people recognize him, giving him slightly confused looks at his state, which he’s sure doesn’t look good. Jeno didn’t bother to look in the mirror before he left, but he hasn’t changed his hoodie in two days, hasn’t slept more than a few hours in three, and he’s sure he looks next to dead. However, he tries to shove that to the back of his mind, trudging on to the building that’s thankfully quite close to his dorm.

Baxter Hall is where Jeno used to meet Jaemin after his Tuesday lectures, and though pulling the door open and stepping through the threshold makes him immediately feel like shit, he figures it really can’t be worse than how he’s already been feeling. 

“Jeno, holy shit thank you,” Mark sputters out as he rushes up to him with outstretched hands, grabbing the notebook from Jeno’s arms before turning immediately to sprint in the other direction. “I OWE YOU!” He shouts back before disappearing around a corner, everyone in the hall glancing back to see what the noise is about.

“Welcome,” Jeno mumbles to himself before he too spins on his heels, heading for the front entrance when he’s stopped dead in his tracks.

He fell asleep, that’s it. He’s at his desk, passed out at his keyboard and the whole Mark thing was a nightmare. He’s gonna wake up any second now, laugh it off, and Jaemin’s definitely not going to be walking through the two glass doors and heading his way. 

Oh, he’s still coming. 

The world shifts beneath Jeno’s feet, everything getting very wobbly with his lack of sleep and lack of nutrition and lack of hydration. He suddenly wishes he’d drank water more during the weekend, because then maybe he wouldn’t be getting so hot in the face, seconds from passing out.

“Jeno—“

Nope. No No No No. Jeno immediately turns around again, refusing to acknowledge the person coming towards him in the hopes that if he ignores him long enough he’ll just go away, like a pimple. 

Jeno mindlessly rushes down a hallway, quite literally running away despite how much of a coward that makes him look. Can he really be blamed, though? Jaemin up and left him, no explanation, not even a “we can't be friends anymore” text. Jeno knows the sting only stung more because of his feelings for Jaemin, but even platonically that’s a low fucking blow.

He thinks he’s gonna make it out when he sees the side door at the end of the hall, so he picks up his speed a bit, speed walking to freedom, but of course the universe is entirely against him and he never makes it that far. 

Without warning, Jeno’s grabbed by the sleeve of his hoodie, pulled aside and shoved into a dark closet with a yelp of surprise.

“What the hell are you—“ Jeno is stopped mid complaint by a pair of arms wrapping around his neck, squeezing him so tightly he nearly chokes. However no restriction of airflow can keep him from taking in his assailants scent. Cigarettes, metal, sea salt.

“What the hell am I doing? What the fuck were you thinking! You shut your phone off and I thought you blocked me and then I went to your practice but you weren’t there and—“ Jaemin pulls back then, hands squeezing Jeno’s shoulders as if to make sure he’s real. The only light illuminating them is filtering in from the small window that connects the closet to a dark classroom, but it’s enough for Jeno to see that Jaemin’s crying, and one of his eyes is darker than the other. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I disappeared and I wish I could tell you why but I can’t yet. I just, I had your location on my phone and then it stopped showing and I thought something happened to you and nobody would tell me where you were.” Jeno stares, Jaemin stares back with panic in his eyes. There’s a million things Jeno had planned to say to Jaemin when he saw him again, plenty of things to say to tell him off or make him feel awful or just prove that he was okay without him, but now that he’s here it’s the last thing on his mind. 

Jeno doesn’t say anything, just slowly reaches a hand up to cup the side of Jaemin’s face, thumb brushing his cheekbone where a bruise blossoms into a ring around his eye. 

“Who hit you?” His voice is soft, exhausted, and at the sound of it another tear falls from Jaemin’s eye, dripping onto Jeno’s hand and binding them together once again. 

“What?” Jaemin acts as if the question is the dumbest thing he’s ever heard, brow furrowing even as he melts into Jeno’s touch. “It’s nothing. Jeno, why did you—“

“Who. Hit. You.” Every pain Jeno has felt these past few days slips to the very back of his mind, because now he’s absorbing Jaemin’s pain. He’s hurting where Jaemin is hurting, and all he can think about is hurting whoever caused the mark on Jaemin’s once luminescent, beautiful face. 

“I… I can’t tell you. Not yet, at least.” Jaemin looks down at their feet, all of his usual vibrance and power gone as he stands like a scolded boy in front of Jeno. “Can we please just go back to your place? I’ll try and explain as much as I can, I promise.” Jeno then also looks down, taking in Jaemin’s state, which isn’t far from his own. His usual skinny jeans have been swapped for a pair of grey sweats, and like a punch to the face Jeno realizes that Jaemin’s wearing his basketball hoodie. Bile rises in his throat, but he swallows it down, reasoning that he needs answers, but also acknowledging that he physically can’t say no to Jaemin. 

“Okay,” he sighs out, hand falling to his side as Jaemin looks back up at him with a small glimmer of hope. “Okay.” 

The walk back to his dorm is almost more comical than the walk to run Mark’s little errand. This time they get double the stares, considering Jaemin has a black eye, doesn’t look like he just got lost from his rock band, and is much more popular than Jeno and has been missing for two weeks. They make it there relatively unscathed however, only being stopped for a split second by a professor who looks into the two boy’s eyes and immediately says it’s not that important.

It doesn’t become real that Jaemin is real until they’re hidden behind Jeno’s bedroom door once again, stepping into their own little world that is impenetrable to the horrors of the outside. Jeno let’s him go first, shutting the door carefully behind them, but the second he turns around again Jaemin is on him. 

It’s strange, feeling desperation through a touch, but Jeno feels it, can taste it on his tongue as Jaemin hugs him as if he is the most precious thing on earth. Jeno refuses to let himself believe it, but he physically concedes nonetheless and wraps his arms around Jaemin’s waist, holding him just as tightly.

The pair waddle over to the bed, Jaemin refusing to detach himself even as they clumsily fall onto it together. Jeno tries to adjust as best he can, but they’re tangled like vines and quite honestly Jeno would be a liar if he said he didn’t want it as much as Jaemin seems to want it. Even in the silence there are a million things exchanged in the way Jaemin’s hands fist into Jeno’s hoodie, and the way Jeno’s fingers tangle in platinum blonde strands like he’s grasping for a way out of the hole he’s in. It’s pathetic, all revealing and leaving him a little too exposed. His fight or flight is telling him to distance himself, demand an explanation and keep his already fragile heart from being dropped carelessly again. However, said heart seems to have a terrible memory, and it absorbs everything that Jaemin has to offer as if it needs him to live.

Jeno isn’t sure if minutes or hours pass like this, in fact the only indication of time passing is when he blinks his eyes open and suddenly the room is dark. He doesn’t remember even passing out, but panic sets in as he immediately tightens his grasp, wondering if it was all a cruel dream, but is met with a noise of complaint from the man in his arms. He exhales in relief, falling back into the pillows with a mumbled, “sorry.”

“Ngh,” Jaemin groans, a sleepy laugh escaping him before he stretches his legs straight out. “I’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs softly into the fabric of Jeno’s sweatshirt, still draped over his chest but not as quite attached like velcro. “I don’t think it did either of us any good to be worth it.” The wording brings bitterness onto Jeno's tongue, sobering him from sleep immediately. The dark of his room is all he sees when he opens his eyes, and all broken pieces of himself tremble to stay together. He's exhuasted, his mind clouded with relief and heartbreak and fear, but he knows he needs an explanation or he’ll never feel okay again.

“Jaemin, we can’t just… pick up where we left off. I need to know what happened. Why you... left.” Jeno nearly chokes on his words, the urge to cry overwhelming him suddenly, and to his surprise he gives in. “Why you left without seeming to think I was important enough to be given an explanation when you were five fucking blocks away.” A single tear falls down the side of his temple, accompanied by a sniff, and immediately Jaemin is sitting up on his forearm.

“Jen, don’t cry, it’s okay—I'm so, so sorry,” he stutters out aimlessly, consternation lacing his voice, hand smoothing over Jeno’s chest as if to calm him. “Ask me whatever you need to and I’ll answer to the best of my ability.” Why did you leave me? Did you not know that I would follow you anywhere? Do you even know now? Jeno intakes a breath, closing his eyes to control himself, not trusting his words to come out coherently if he’s an emotional mess. Jaemin doesn’t push him, just watches patiently, nervous fingers fidgeting with the strings of Jeno’s hoodie.

“I just,” Jeno starts, his eyes blinking open to stare at the ceiling. Millions of things, not enough time. Even with Jaemin’s promise of not going anywhere, there’s a sense of urgency in Jeno’s bones. A feeling that if he gets this wrong then he’ll always be two steps behind, never able to grasp Jaemin again. It’s a final countdown, a 3 point shot that is the determination of the entire game. There’s basics, things that can’t be avoided, and everything else will follow along on it’s own.“Where do you live?”

“An apartment downtown.” The answer comes immediately, no hesitation in Jaemin’s words, and as if by magic the air is easier to breathe.

“Why have I never been there?” This one perhaps isn’t as vital, but Jeno feels he still deserves to know.

“Well, it wasn’t a lie when I said it was inconvenient. Commuting to downtown is kinda silly when you live right here.” There’s a pause that follows his words, an indication that Jaemin didn’t explain the whole story and that Jeno notices. “Okay, I will give you my full answer, but before I do I need you to promise me something.” Jeno casts his gaze to Jaemin without thought, searching his eyes for any evidence of this being a sick joke, but then he feels bad for assuming such a thing and mentally slaps himself on the wrist. 

“Promise you… what?” 

“I know I have zero right to ask for things from you, but I am just asking that you trust me. Which, yes, seems very ironic and sadistic of me to ask considering what just happened, but until I get everything settled on my end I just need you to trust that I will tell you everything that has happened these past two weeks down to every single second I went to pee if that’s what you need, but that I just can’t right now.” Jaemin scoots up a bit on the bed to make their faces level, hands clearly wanting to reach out to touch Jeno’s skin but holding themselves back. 

“Jaemin, are you in trouble?” The question has crossed his mind approximately 1 billion times in the days since Jaemin disappeared, but he always reasoned that it was too dramatic, too on the nose. Movie-verse Jeno and Jaemin are just that, in their fictional parallel universes, and questions like those only exist in fiction, but when Jaemin doesn’t immediately repudiate the sentiment, Jeno’s chest caves in on itself. “Jaemin,” he breathes out as he sits up, taking the younger with him until they’re facing each other properly. “Are you in trouble? If you are, you don’t have to explain, I’ll trust you, just, at least let me know if that’s why you left me.” Jeno doesn’t intend to end the statement so pathetically, but he supposes there really isn’t much else he can lose.

“I wouldn’t say in trouble , just, dealing with a problem that I caused.” Jaemin looks down at his hands, fidgeting with the silver band on his thumb, all restless energy and nerves, but Jeno reaches out to hold them. Slowly pieces start falling together, and Jeno feels a bit of guilt amongst his twisted sense of relief. “I would never leave you, I was gonna come back I just—I disappeared because I wanted to keep you out of it, because I didn’t want shit like this happening to you,” he says as he uses their joined hands to gesture to his black eye, and Jeno’s throat constricts. “You’re the only person who’s ever liked me because of the way that I am and not despite the way I am. You’re funny and smart and strong and gentle and the type of guy who sits on a bathroom floor with a stranger for 45 minutes helping him clean up a bloody nose.”

“You weren’t a stranger.” Jeno isn’t sure why that’s what seems to matter in the moment, but he feels the need to be honest now more than ever. If perpetual and ceaseless emotions are fed kindling to keep them aflame, then it is inevitable that they’ll become resplendent wildfires, consuming everything in their wake in shades of gold. Jeno’s fire is threatening to burn his house down, but he’s decided that he can’t hide there anymore. “I always noticed you, Jaemin. We met in 8th grade when I changed schools. You were always making people laugh, and everyone wanted to be you or know you, even if they wouldn’t tell you. I remember passing you in the halls on afternoons where I’d have practice and you’d sometimes be leaving detention. Even if you’d been in there all day you always smiled at me. You smiled at everyone. When I saw you smiling in that stupid bathroom, even with blood staining your teeth and dripping onto your jeans, I realized that I have always been wanting that smile to be for me.” It’s just scratching the surface, not nearly enough, and Jeno has a million more confessions begging to take shape on his lips. He opens his mouth to say more, to rip his heart out and shove it down Jaemin’s throat, but his voice is stolen from him when suddenly instead of weighted words there are another set of lips pressing into his, and Jeno’s fire turns into an inferno.

Jaemin is kissing him, his hands gripping the front of Jeno’s hoodie to hold him close, and it takes Jeno a few agonizing seconds to process it before he begins to kiss back with everything in him. Jeno’s hands reach up to cup Jaemin’s cheeks, tangle in his hair and feel the heartbeat in his neck to make sure he’s real. The kiss is gentle, but living on the very fine line between want and need, and though this is everything Jeno has wanted, it’s suddenly become the one thing that is keeping him alive.

One of Jeno’s hands slides down from where it’s gripping Jaemin’s cheek to hold onto his waist, and as if Jaemin can hear his thoughts he begins leaning back to lay on the mattress while dragging Jeno down on top of him. Their bodies slot together perfectly, as if they both planned for this moment and pre-adjusted accordingly, but even if Jeno had wanted to it would’ve been useless in the moment anyhow. As their lips move together, Jaemin’s hands slipping under his hoodie and pressing his fingertips into Jeno’s overheated skin, all Jeno can do is feel . His five senses are consumed with Jaemin; the taste of his lips, the lingering smell of his cologne, the bunching of his clothes in his hands, the sound of the sweetest sigh escaping from the back of his throat, and millions of stars exploding in his mind's eye.

Jaemin uses his grip on Jeno’s waist to pull him down all the way, not letting him hold himself up anymore so his entire weight is blanketing the younger. Jeno tries to pull back then, to keep from crushing him, but Jaemin whimpers into his mouth and tugs him back down. The line of want and need quickly crumbles, and so does Jeno’s entire being as Jaemin’s tongue licks into his mouth.

Jeno isn’t expecting it, so he poses no resistance, letting him explore and taste and lead despite being under him. Their hoodies are generating too much heat between them, but Jaemin wont let him go, licking against his tongue and capturing him in kisses that leave his lips spit slick. It goes from gentle to urgent, from explorative to hungry, and Jeno wonders if Jaemin’s always wanted this too.

They kiss for minutes, hours, the world melting away around them as they try and devour each other whole. Jeno thinks he could die like this, just stop inhaling air and instead inhale Jaemin’s exhaled breaths until he’s kissed to the point of no return. However, as poetic as that is, Jeno feels quickly that they both need to breathe, and he once again tries to pull back, but is still resisted by Jaemin’s hold.

There’s something unspoken about it, something that makes anxiety creep up Jeno’s spine. It feels like Jaemin is trying to avoid something, forget something, and before Jeno can let himself get lost in the haze of Jaemin’s mouth, he uses the hand still on his cheek to reach up and grip into his hair. He gives Jaemin a chance to concede, to let go, but when his grip on his waist turns bruising Jeno tugs his head back by his hair, earning a small gasp from Jaemin as his neck is bared, chest heaving trying to intake breath.

“No, no, please. Please keep kissing me I—I can’t.” Jaemin is begging, sputtering out nonsense, and Jeno’s worry only grows as he sees the once confident, impentrenable beast be reduced to nothing but mindless pleas.

“Jaemin, hey,” Jeno tries to soothe him, to get his attention as he relaxes his grip in his hair, but upon giving him some slack is immediately captured in another kiss. “Jaem—“

“No!” Jaemin blurts out against his lips, finally letting his body collapse into the mattress, no longer pushing against jeno but keeping their foreheads pressed together as if parting would cause him to dissolve entirely.

“What’s wrong?” Jeno’s voice is laced with genuine concern, woven in with his confusion, and the simple question has Jaemin holding his breath. “Please, you’re scaring m—“

“My dad runs an organized crime ring and all those people you met at the party aren’t my friends they just run errands for my dad but after they were rude to you I basically banned them and now they’re so fucking pissed at me and so is my dad because I lost him half his pack mules and when you disappeared I thought one of them did something to you because everyone's out to get me and I don’t know what to do.” Jaemin exhales, chest deflating immediately as his eyes squeeze shut. “I can’t keep hiding it from you, I realize that now, because the second your location shut off I went to confront Yuta and then he hit me and god —I even called Renjun and he told me that what happened to you was my fault? I spiraled, I went fucking crazy. I immediately went to your practice realizing that nobody was gonna help me, and then I went to your front door and nobody answered, but then I got a text from Johnny that he saw you on campus and I sprinted to find you and I’m just really fucking sorry, Jeno. I’m so sorry.”

Dial tone………………..

“Wh—what?” Jeno is frozen above him, his body failing him as he slips half off Jaemin’s body, only his leg and arm still wrapped around him as he lays on his side. Of all the explanations Jeno has pondered for two weeks straight, maybe even before then in passing as he’s wondered what kind of life it is that Jaemin lives when he’s not with Jeno, coming from a family of gangsters was definitely not added to the bingo card.

“I truly, honest to God in heaven, wish I were joking, Jeno.” Jaemin takes another breath, deciding it’s his responsibility to be the calm one as he gently peels Jeno off of him, situating them so they’re both laying on their sides facing each other instead. It reminds Jeno of the night he last saw Jaemin, and his heart hurts all over again.

“So you’re…” Jeno’s voice trails off, his eyes practically bugging out of his skull as he stares unblinking into Jaemin’s gaze. “What does that make you?” The question is probably not the one that needs an immediate answer, but it’s quite literally the only thing that escapes coherently past his lips that are still numb from kissing Jaemin.

“I’m just Jaemin. I wasn’t exactly secretive about the fact that I was out at odd hours doing odd things, it’s just that now you know, ya know, why.” Jaemin stares into Jeno’s eyes, searching for some sort of confirmation of understanding. He reaches a hand out slowly so as not to scare Jeno and rests his palm on his cheek, thumb brushing the overheated skin with a worried smile. “Hey, we should take these hoodies off, you’re burning up, babe.” Babe? Now, perhaps Jeno can be given a bit of slack considering his predicament, but somehow the use of the stupid little pet name has Jeno far more dysfunctional than the admittance that one of his best friends and probable love of his life is a fucking criminal. He isn’t proud to admit it, but he also has no plans to deny it. “Here.” Upon receiving zero signs of life from Jeno, Jaemin takes it upon himself to grip the hem of Jeno’s hoodie, pulling it up and helping him out of it before tossing it somewhere off the bed. He then sits up slightly and pulls his own hoodie off (techncially Jeno’s, but, details), and lets it join it’s friend on the floor. Neither were wearing t-shirts underneath, but the reveal of Jaemin’s body is the least of Jeno’s worries. He can be horny later, because for now he just feels like he needs to be held.

“Do you wanna talk more or do you just want some rest? I promise I’ll be here when you wake up.” Jaemin’s hand finds its way back to Jeno’s cheek, lightly running down his neck and brushing over his shoulder. The touch holds Jeno down, Jaemin being his center of gravity and keeping the blood from freezing in his veins. There’s definitely a novel's worth of questions in Jeno’s brain, pounding against his skull and so loud that he doesn’t think he can think anything else, but he also doesn’t have the energy to appease them.

“Can we sleep? Please?” Jeno feels like a kid, like he’s the most naive he’s ever been, but when Jaemin smiles at him like he’s the singular most important thing in the entire world he decides that he doesn’t need to know it all just yet. 

There are no more words spoken as Jaemin lays the comforter over them, situating Jeno once again so that his back is facing him before pulling him tight against his chest. Where their skin touches Jeno can feel Jaemin’s heartbeat thrumming against his back, and in recognition that this is his person, his Jaemin , his own heart begins to beat in time. The quiet of the room is a silent confirmation, as if letting them know that it’s okay to rest now, that more talking can be done later, and Jeno lets himself melt in Jaemin’s hold as if he truly belongs there. Perhaps he does. 

The saying always goes that when it rains it pours, but for Jeno, it's when the fire is started that it incernates everything along with it, and he’s ready to let it all be burned.