Work Text:
TUESDAY
Jeno gets into a heated exchange with a client the next day. This is how it unfolds.
“Wait. Sorry. Come again? Why wasn’t this reference sent earlier?” Jeno says, his expression sharpened into something stern. Stone cold voice and precised words.
The freezing air conditioning does nothing to ease the cold tension settling over the room. Everyone listens in silence as the client meeting plays through the office television, the tension is thick enough as everyone feigns focus on their respective laptops.
Jeno has always been composed. It comes with the job. But he isn’t some unfeeling machine. This time, everyone falls silent at the unmistakable edge in his controlled tone while staying professional. He’s undeniably furious.
That’s the thing about Jeno. He’s all easy smiles and effortless politeness, the kind of person you’d assume is incapable of anger. So when the faintest crack of it shows, the entire room stills. As if this, this exact moment, has always been the unspoken fear. Witnessing Jeno finally snap. He never puts it on display, but when he’s upset, you’ll definitely know.
Even the client’s side falls quiet, because the mistake is clearly on their end. And yet, they hesitate. No apology and ownership, because admitting fault would cost them something. There’s no point to it anyway.
“This J.O. was cascaded two weeks ago,” Jeno states evenly. “We’ve already submitted three key visual studies, all of which went through three rounds of revisions.” His jaw tightens. “How does something this major get overlooked?”
Honestly, Jaemin can’t blame him. He’s worked up himself. He’s poured weeks into those key visuals. Have gone round after round of revisions, just like Jeno said. It would’ve been manageable if it were just another minor tweak. But now? Hours of conceptualizing, refining, editing are all reducing to nothing. Because apparently, the client suddenly wants an entirely different direction. Clearer, they say. Something that would’ve saved everyone the trouble had they said it from the start.
Jaemin is seconds away from unmuting himself, ready to defend his work. But Jeno glances at him and offers a subtle, grounding look.
“Can we explore a way to build from what’s already been developed?” Jeno says, steadying himself. He resets, slipping back into problem-solving mode. This is his responsibility. He has to negotiate something that won’t waste their work while still appeasing the other side.
As always, Jeno handles the conversation like a real pro. Jaemin has long admired the way Jeno navigates situations like this. How he absorbs tension without letting it spill over. Jaemin doesn’t know how he does it. How he tolerates the passive-aggressive undertones in the client’s voice without letting it infect his own while it wors up everyone.
That’s who Jeno has always been.
By the end of the call, Jeno manages to convince the client toward a compromise he formulates on the spot, one that salvages most of Jaemin’s work, spares him from starting from zero while still maintaining the quality of their output and adhering to what the client needs.
What would Jaemin do without him? He’s incredible.
When the call ends, Jeno appears unfazed. No visible cracks. Never showing how stressed he actually is. Everyone assumes (Jaemin used to, too) that this is simply the way he is. He’s always admired how Jeno seems to draw a line between his emotions and work. It’s not like he doesn’t have any emotions. He might just be good at handling and compartmentalizing them.
But with the conversation that transpired in Jeno’s car the previous day, Jaemin thinks it might not exactly be the case at all. Because maybe Jeno isn’t naturally detached. It unsettles him how Jeno suppresses everything in the name of staying professional, because his job needs him to be not emotional. He can’t let emotions get involved. It’s a part of his job. He mediates between impossible clients with unrealistic expectations and overstimulated creatives running on caffeine and four hours of sleep, revising the same material for the nth time. A perfect recipe for corporate warfare.
And Jeno? He excels in the middle of it. His calm and measured demeanor makes him seem perfectly built for this position, as if he was designed to withstand pressure without cracking.
But he’s not a robot. Not some emotionless AI programmed for damage control. And Jaemin hates the idea that Jeno might be suppressing parts of himself just because, as he admitted, it doesn’t feel appropriate to reveal the real him around colleagues. As if doing his job well requires erasing pieces of himself.
“I’ll just go to the restroom,” Jeno mutters, cutting through the heated post-meeting chatter. Renjun and Haechan are already venting loudly about how insufferable the clients are.
Jaemin follows Jeno with his eyes as he leaves. He notices the way Jeno bites his lower lip on the way out. A small, restrained gesture. Maybe it’s always been a habit. Or maybe Jaemin is only seeing it now.
A few minutes later, Jaemin slips out of the room and heads to the restroom too. He finds Jeno at the sink, hands under running water, breathing in slow, measured pulls like he’s trying to steady something only he can feel.
“Hey. Jen?” Jaemin slips his head through the slightly ajar door. Jeno glances at him through the mirror, then briefly checks the row of cubicles behind him, making sure they’re alone.
Jaemin steps inside. “You okay?”
Jeno presses his teeth into his lower lip and gives a short nod.
“Yeah, of course…” Jeno mutters. Jaemin briefly stares at Jeno and softly smiles. “Of course, it’s not,” Jeno continues.
“That’s fair,” Jaemin says gently. “Doesn’t have to be okay. They’re stupid. We all know it.”
Jeno lets out a quiet breath, turning slightly so he can see Jaemin better through the mirror. “I just can’t stand it. I know how much time you poured into those materials.” His expression softens. “I didn’t want all that effort thrown away. Your concepts were incredible, Jaem.”
Warmth blooms in Jaemin’s chest so fast it almost catches him off guard. Hearing that, especially from Jeno, means more than he’d ever admit. Every creative survives on tiny bits of validation. And coming from Jeno, it feels like a full meal.
“And I really appreciate how you managed to make it all work in the end,” Jaemin replies, voice light but sincere. “You saved me from hours of back-breaking and running on another cup of venti Americano,” He laughs softly. “Thanks, Jen. Seriously.”
Jeno nods and breaks away eye contact as he leans back against the countertop. Then he narrows his eyes slightly when he realizes Jaemin’s not here to go inside the cubicles. Jeno says, “Wait. Did you follow me in here?”
Jaemin shrugs, hands slipping into his pockets. “Just wanted to check on you.” He smiles and tilts his head, then opens his arms in silent invitation. “You might want to, you know…”
The gesture is unmistakable. It looks safe. Inviting. Exactly what Jeno needs at the moment. But—
“Are you insane?” Jeno whisper-yells. “Someone could walk in any second!”
Jaemin scoffs. “Relax. It’s not like we’re doing anything scandalous. Can’t I comfort my favorite accounts manager?”
A flush creeps up Jeno’s neck. “Your favorite, huh?” He lets out a disbelieving chuckle. “Renjun’s going to hear about this.”
“Which one?” Jaemin grins. Jeno shoots him a warning look.
“Come on,” Jaemin urges, stepping closer and gesturing again. “It’s just a hug.”
It more than just a hug to Jeno. It’s the quiet reassurance he’s always secretly craved. The kind of comfort he’s only ever imagined receiving. The idea alone makes something fragile inside him ache. How is he supposed to refuse? Jaemin’s hugs are apparently irresistible.
His resistance softens and then sowly, he steps into Jaemin’s space and lets himself be pulled in.
The moment Jaemin’s arms wrap around him, something inside Jeno unravels. His shoulders drop, tension draining from muscles he hadn’t realized were clenched. He exhales against Jaemin’s shoulder, breathing in the clean scent clinging to his jacket, making him extra cozy and huggable. Somehow, this feels familiar now. It’s grounding and warm. The noise in his head fades into stillness, all of his racing thoughts come to a halt, as if time has narrowed down to the space between their bodies. He hesitates only briefly before allowing himself to indulge. Hugging back, one arm sliding around Jaemin’s waist.
Jaemin giggles softly. “There you go,” he murmurs, hand lifting to cradle the back of Jeno’s head. Jeno closes his eyes.
Jeno wishes they could stay like this forever. And if forever is too much, he’d settle for a little longer. Just a few more suspended seconds in Jaemin’s arms. He’ll take anything just to pause with Jaemin.
Jeno thinks he really should’ve just allowed himself to wish for forever when the door started creaking open, making the both of them jolt. Both of them spring apart in an instant, and turn towards the mirror within a split second, as if nothing happened.
Jaemin quickly switches on the faucet and pretends to wash his hands just as one of their coworkers walks in. Jeno offers a polite nod and a composed smile towards the person before slipping into one of the stalls. Through the mirror, Jaemin catches Jeno’s eye and snorts. Jeno shakes his head, fighting back a laugh.
“I’ll head out first,” Jeno says a moment later, stepping back out and mouthing a silent thank you to Jaemin through their reflection.
WEDNESDAY
It’s one of those hectic weeks. Everyone barely has time for anything other than work. The kind where an entire shift disappears in a blink, and even overtime feels useless against the mounting workload. And it’s still the middle of the week.
Terrible timing for Jeno and Jaemin, who barely manage more than passing words about work in the office, aside from the hugs they’ve been sneaking in fleeting and hidden moments.
Jaemin’s plate is fuller than ever, deadlines stacked mercilessly on top of each other. It leaves little room for anything else, especially the Valentine’s date he’s been wanting to ask Jeno out on.
He’s rehearsed it in his head more times than he can count, but the right moment never comes. They’re always swamped, always rushing. And now doubt creeps in. He’s been contemplating about what this all means now. He confessed, and Jeno likes him back. So what does that make them? Are they officially dating now?
Jaemin doesn’t think so. Not yet. Not before he takes Jeno on a real date. Not before he does this properly.
Of all weeks for their feelings to surface, it had to be Valentine’s week. It should’ve been a perfect timing. Romantic, almost cinematic. Instead, everything seems determined to get in the way. And now he can’t tell whether the universe has been quietly rooting for them all along… or subtly working against them.
By Wednesday, the peak of the chaos, no one has the energy for small talk. Conversations are reduced to sighs and curt nods.
You can tell how strained everyone is when they start lining up for what they’ve dubbed as Jaemin’s “power hug.” One by one, they approach Jaemin as if he’s some sort of emotional charging station. Renjun goes first, wordless as always, simply stepping into Jaemin’s arms and melting there for a second.
Jaemin laughs softly, cooing at him before sending him off. Then Chenle follows. And Jisung. As if a hug from Jaemin can reset their entire nervous system and fix them. From the corner of his eye, Jaemin catches Jeno watching. He remembers what Jeno admitted the other day. And his ego glows at the possibility.
Could Jeno be jealous right now?
Jaemin knows he could get hugs anytime he wants. More than hugs, even, if he only asked. The thought makes something playful stir inside him. He turns to look directly at Jeno. Jeno quickly looks away before their gazes can lock.
Jaemin ends up staying late that night, voluntarily, which is rare for him. Chenle even points it out, again, raising a brow at how often Jaemin’s been extending his hours lately.
Eventually, the office empties. Until it’s just Jeno and Jaemin.
Jaemin swivels in his chair then, and smirks. “So,” he says lightly, “were you jealous?”
Jeno scoffs without looking up. “Of what?”
“All the hugs.” Jaemin stands and walks over Jeno, opening his arms. “You can have yours now.”
Jeno rolls his eyes, but he steps in anyway.
The embrace is slower this time. Less frantic than the stolen ones. Jaemin feels the familiar weight of Jeno settling against him, warm and steady.
And then,
“Did you guys see my-” Haechan’s voice rings out as the office door swings open.
Haechan freezes mid-step, as if witnessing something he shouldn’t have
“Oh.”
Jeno jolts back instantly, flustered, as if they’d been caught doing something far more incriminating than standing in each other’s arms.
Jaemin, on the other hand, barely suppresses a grin.
THURSDAY
Of all people who could’ve seen them, it had to be Haechan.
Anyone else would’ve been manageable. Anyone else might’ve pretended not to see anything. But Haechan? A walking loudspeaker.
Jaemin had already braced himself for the inevitable. He half-expected Haechan to burst into the office the next morning and announce it like breaking news. By lunch, the entire company would know in no time. By the end of the day, everyone’s going to assume that they’re officially together and be unofficially labeled the agency’s newest couple before they’d even had a proper first date and talk about it themselves.
Jaemin doesn’t actually mind the gossip. He’s never shied away from attention. Let them talk. ecause they weren’t doing anything malicious anyway! They weren’t doing anything scandalous. It was just a hug.
What bothers him more is the thought of jinxing it, of the universe overhearing the whispers and deciding they’ve gotten ahead of themselves.
Jeno, on the other hand, seems genuinely rattled about it. He’d gone stiff the moment Haechan walked in, cheeks flushed, stepping back as if they’d been caught red-handed. And honestly? It wasn’t as if they were doing anything wrong. Haechan himself had claimed a “power hug” from Jaemin before leaving.
The only difference is that those hugs with everyone were harmless. Platonic.
And whatever this is between Jaemin and Jeno isn’t anything near platonic. Jaemin doesn’t want it to be.
Still, he can’t help the faint sting of confusion. Why did Jeno react like that? Why not just laugh it off? Why not claim it like everyone else had? He’d had just as terrible a day. Didn’t he deserve comfort too?
But Jeno finds himself spiraling, stuck in his own head. He starts imagining sideways glances that aren’t there. Conversations that haven’t happened. He convinces himself everyone knows. That they can see it written all over them. Projecting his overthinking to everyone. Assumes everyone already knows something they don’t. But again, there’s nothing wrong with it. So what if they do?
The real difference between them has always been this: Jaemin thrives in the spotlight, doesn’t mind being the center of attention. Jeno avoids it. He doesn’t like being dissected over lunch breaks or becoming the office’s favorite topic.
But when Jeno takes a step back, he realizes something almost laughable. No one cares. It was all an exaggeration. Everyone is drowning in deadlines and revisions and client demands. Who has the energy to obsess over someone else’s love life in this brutally fast-paced creative agency? (Haechan, maybe. But not yet.)
The next morning, Jaemin walks in prepared for chaos. He expects theatrics. A dramatic reenactment. Maybe even applause. Instead-
“GOOD MORNING, SUNSHINES!”
Haechan sing-songs far too loudly at nine in the morning, breezing past desks like a caffeinated hurricane. He’s either infecting the office with contagious enthusiasm and energy or committing a crime against everyone when caffeine has barely been absorbed in their system.
Exhibit A: Renjun, who hisses audibly the moment Haechan drags a chair next to him.
Everything looks normal. No knowing smirks and raised brows. No whispers trailing behind them. All good. It was all in Jeno and Jaemin’s heads.
It’s just another hectic morning. Jaemin catches Jeno’s eye from across the room. All that worrying for nothing.
And that’s as if they don’t really know Haechan just yet. They should’ve known he’s capable of being impicitly evil when he wants to be. By lunchtime, when the whole team is gathered in the cafeteria, Haechan’s master plan to corner them begins to unfold. Slowly and deliberately.
“So!” Haechan starts, casually mixing his bibimbap. “What’s the date tomorrow?”
Chenle shrugs. “Friday.”
“I said date, silly,” Haechan shoots back.
“Oh my god,” Jisung blurts out with food still in his mouth, hurriedly chewing and swallowing, hand flying up to cover it as realization dawns on him. “It’s PAYDAY!”
The entire table brightens almost instantly. They’ve all been so buried in work that they forgot they’re finally getting paid. And once they remember, that’s it. Nothing else matters. Payday reigns supreme. End of discussion.
“And???” Haechan presses, glancing around expectantly, waiting for someone, anyone to state the obvious that apparently only he cares about.
“Hyung, what could possibly matter more than payday?” Jisung adds.
“Oh God, you’re all fucked. No, actually, none of you are getting fucked. You’re all single as hell.” Haechan throws his hands in the air dramatically. “Are you? Are you all single?” His gaze lingers pointedly on Jeno and Jaemin across the table.
Jeno, seated beside Jaemin, visibly stiffens. Jaemin nudges him subtly, a silent reassurance not to take the bait.
“God, you’re insufferable,” Renjun mutters, rolling his eyes. “How is Mark even dating you?”
“Oh, you know exactly why,” Haechan beams, scooting closer to his boyfriend just to be obnoxious. Mark only snickers, shaking his head at the theatrics.
“Mark, just please ask him for Valentine’s already so he can finally shut up,” Chenle chimes in.
“But I have!” Mark protests.
“Yes, Haechan. We’re all single. Now please leave us alone,” Renjun says flatly, finishing the last of his food. “It’s just another day.”
Haechan gasps dramatically. “That is the most anti-romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”
Then he turns.
“What about you, Jeno and Jaemin?” Haechan asks, grin widening as he looks between the two of them. As if he decided it’s finally their time.
Jeno goes rigid. He nudges his thigh against Jaemin’s under the table, an unspoken plea for rescue.
“U-us?” Jeno stammers, eyes blown out wide as he chews his food.
“Yeah,” Haechan replies innocently, though the mischief is unmistakable. He knows exactly what he’s doing, phrasing it just vaguely enough to rattle them. “You and Jaemin.”
You and Jaemin. Jeno swallows hard, processing.
“He means he’s asking you. And then me,” Jaemin whispers under his breath, leaning closer to clarify. God. Could this get any more obvious? So much for staying under the radar and wanting not to be caught.
Jaemin realizes that Jeno might be one of the sharpest, quickest thinkers he knows, but the moment he’s put on the spot about this, about them, about Jaemin, He completely unravels.
“Uh…” Jeno trails off and swallows his food, trying not to choke, straightening slightly as he gathers himself. “No plans. No plans at all. Probably just heading home.”
Oh.
For some reason, that answers pulls at something in Jaemin’s chest. A dull and quiet ache he can’t quite name. It’s not like he expected anything different. He wasn’t expecting to hear something else. It’s not like he thought Jeno would say something about them. Either way, that is the truth anyway. They don’t have plans. Not yet. It would’ve been stranger if Jeno had said he did.
But just as quickly as Jaemin’s fears seem to have manifested,
“Oh. Wait,” Jeno adds suddenly. “I just remembered. I do. I do have plans.”
That hits harder.
Something twists low in Jaemin’s stomach. That shocks him even more.
Plans? With who? Did Jeno make plans with someone else? Did someone beat him to it? Did someone ask Jeno out first? Did Jeno keep swiping on that dating app and actually meet someone worth taking out? The thought lands like a punch. That would’ve really hurt.
Because Jaemin didn’t continue swiping. He deleted the app the second he got home that night, uninstalled it without hesitation. Because Jeno had confessed. Because Jeno said he liked him. And that meant something. Didn’t it?
Right.
Intimacy without commitment.
Heavy on the without commitment.
How could he have thought… How could he have misread this so badly? Just because they’re closer now, because they hug, because they blur lines, doesn’t mean they’re exclusive. They never said they were. Of course they’re not a thing. They’re not officially anything.
How could he have missed the fact that Jeno said it himself. Twice, even. That they’re not even close yet. This is just a step forward in their friendship. Nothing more.
Jaemin feels stupid.
Jaemin clears his throat, swallowing past the sudden tightness and ache in his chest.
“Really?” Haechan perks up immediately. “With who?” His eyes flick between Jeno and Jaemin, sharp and eager.
There’s a brief pause. A beat.
“Just… someone,” Jeno says carefully.
Jaemin subtly shifts in his seat, scooting away and creating the smallest gap between them. Enough to feel it.
“You’re dating someone?” Haechan presses even more.
Jeno nods once. “Someone I met on a dating app.”
Oh.So Jaemin was right after all.
“You’re on a dating app?” Haechan’s grin falters, then returns, this time laced with confusion. His gaze darts toward Jaemin, who is very obviously not masking his sour mood well.
The air at the table turns strange. Quieter.
“Gotta go, guys,” Jaemin says abruptly, stacking his plates despite his unfinished meal. He’d lost appetite. “Need to finish something before 2 p.m.”
He doesn’t wait for a response. He walks away, leaving the silence, and whatever that was behind at the table.
❤️
Jaemin can’t function.
He’s been staring at his artboard for a solid thirty minutes, half-hoping the assets and layers will rearrange themselves if he glares at them long enough. The screen blurs. Nothing moves. Nothing clicks. Still, he keeps up the act, shoulders squared, cursor flicking around as if he’s really racing against a 2 p.m. deadline.
Except there is no 2 p.m. deadline. And Jeno knows that.
Jeno’s the one who assigns him deadlines. Jaemin submits everything through him. There’s nothing pending. Nothing due.
Jeno pings him on viber
[Jeno Lee] Hey
[Jeno Lee] What are you working on? Did I miss anything?
Jaemin doesn’t respond. Just keeps staring stoically at his screen.
“Jaem,” Jeno calls softly from across the room. Jaemin glances up. “Check Viber.”
Jaemin looks back at his monitor, pretending he didn’t hear without acknowledging him. His Viber notification buzzes again.
[Jaemin Na] Nothing
[Jeno Lee] I thought you were rushing something? You didn’t finish your food
Dead siilence stretches.
[Jaemin Na] Yeah. Read it all wrong.
[Jeno Lee] Which one?
[Jaemin Na] Never mind
[Jaemin Na] It’s for tomorrow.
[Jeno Lee] Oh
[Jeno Lee] Alright
[Jeno Lee] Hey
[Jaemin Na] Yes?
[Jeno Lee] Is everything okay?
Jaemin lets five full minutes pass. Opens a file. Closes it. Zooms in. Zooms out. Completely ignores him.
Another buzz.
[Jeno Lee] Coffee run?
That’s new and unusual of Jeno. Jeno never initiates coffee runs. He only goes when Jisung drags half the team and he just happens to tag along. So why now? Is this part of whatever they are now? Their leveled up friendship? Hugs in quiet corners and coffee breaks during office hours? Not bad, Jaemin thinks. He’ll take it. But God, he hates how it makes him feel stupid. It shouldn’t feel like this. Jaemin would normally take the small win. But instead, it makes him feel ridiculous. Because what’s the point of this, of stolen hugs and soft glances, if Jeno is going out with someone else tomorrow?
Jaemin might like Jeno. A lot. But he hasn’t changed his mind about what he wants. He wants something steady. Something real. A long-term relationship. He’s not bending that standard for anyone, not even Jeno. He knows he deserves more than a confusing in-between, he doesn’t have time for situationships.
And if Jeno can’t offer more than that, then fine. He’ll be fine.
Jaemin hopes so.
But apparently his internal self-worth Ted talk goes in one ear and out the other, because a second later Jaemin is already grabbing his wallet, pushing back his chair, and walking out without even waiting.
Jaemin heads down to the lobby and stands there casually, like he didn’t just storm off.
“Hey,” Jeno calls as he catches up.
“What’s up?” Jaemin asks, tone neutral.
They step out of the building together.
“Is everything okay?” Jeno asks carefully. “You seem… off.”
Jaemin keeps his gaze ahead. Doesn’t look at him.
“Yeah. Sure. Of course.”
It comes out colder than he intends.
“Jaem,” Jeno says again.
This time, Jaemin finally looks at him, hands buried deep in his pockets, posture guarded. Avoiding contact with Jeno in any way.
“Do you have plans tomorrow?” Jeno asks.
Jaemin stops walking and frowns. “Huh?”
Jeno sighs. “I asked if you have plans tomorrow. It’s Valentine’s. Obviously.” He gestures toward the sidewalk vendor surrounded by red balloons and overpriced roses, a small laugh slipping out.
“I don’t,” Jaemin replies stiffly, already walking ahead. He rolls his eyes once he passes Jeno. Just because you have a date of your own.
“So will you be my Valentine’s then?” Jeno calls after him.
Now that makes Jaemin stops mid-step in his tracks. He turns around slowly.
“I- I thought you had plans,” Jaemin says carefully. “With someone.”
“Yeah,” Jeno nods, walks closer and narrows the distance between them. “I do.”
Jaemin’s stomach drops again.
“I’ve been planning to ask you.” Jeno says.
Oh.
Oh.
Wow.
Jaemin really is stupid.
Jeno’s brows knit together for half a second before realization dawns on him. And then he laughs, actually laughs, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth.
“Wait. Is this why- You thought- Is that why you’ve been acting like that?” Jeno says between chuckles. “Oh my God, Jaemin.”
“But you said you were going on a date with someone you met on a dating app!” Jaemin protests, still refusing to meet his eyes, lips pushed into a pout.
“And I am!” Jeno shoots back.
God. Stupid, stupid Jaemin.
Of course it’s him!
“It’s you, silly,” Jeno says, laughter softening into something fond. He reaches out, squeezes Jaemin’s arm, then links it with his. “Is that why you were in such a sour mood?”
Jaemin gives the smallest nod. He swears he hears Jeno mumble, Cute under his breath.
“You haven’t answered me,” Jeno reminds him as they step into the café.
“I was going to ask you too,” Jaemin finally admits, finally earning his voice again. “I just didn’t get the chance. And then you said you already had plans.”
Jeno huffs out another laugh. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t want Haechan interrogating us in front of everyone. I figured that would shut him up.”
Of course it would. Jeno and his efficient, problem-solving brain.
“Don’t make me ask again, Jaem,” Jeno mutters, suddenly shy. “This is already embarrassing.” Evidently sulking.
“Hold on, stay here for me,” Jaemin says abruptly.
“What? Where are you going?!” Jeno starts, but Jaemin is already rushing back out the café doors. Through the glass, Jeno watches him stop at the vendor. Jaemin scans the basket, then picks out a crocheted rose.
He never thought Jaemin could be this cheesy.
Jaemin jogs back inside, slightly out of breath, and holds the rose out with a grin. He even attempts to kneel before Jeno smacks his shoulder, mortified, glancing around to see if anyone’s watching.
“Don’t you dare,” Jeno hisses.
Jaemin straightens, laughing.
“So,” he says, offering the crocheted rose properly this time, “will you be my Valentine’s?”
Jeno rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling, cheeks dusted pink as he nods.
“Yeah,” he murmurs.
Jaemin beams.
“Good,” he says as Jeno takes the rose from his hand. “Now I really do have plans.”
VALENTINE’S DAY
Jeno and Jaemin end up not planning anything at all.
Jaemin can’t help but find it ironic, almost tragic. It’s unfortunate how they work in a creative agency. They conceptualize Valentine’s campaigns a quarter in advance, build romantic narratives for brands, design heart-filled visuals weeks before February even arrives. And yet when the actual day comes, they barely have time to live it themselves.
As expected, Friday is chaos and packed. Everyone is racing against deadlines, determined to clear their plates before the weekend. The office buzzes with last-minute revisions, urgent emails, and the collective desperation of people who just want two days of peace. Jaemin has three J.Os due by the end of the day. Three. And each one feels heavier than the last.
He barely sees Jeno except in passing. A glance across desks. A quick brush of shoulders near the coffee station. No real conversation. He’s not even sure he’ll finish everything on time.
And honestly? The only thing that drives him right now to accomplish everything in time is the promise of later. Their date.
At this point, the logistics don’t even matter anymore. Where they’re going. What they’re doing. None of that feels important anymore. He just wants time. Uninterrupted, unshared time with Jeno. It’s not like he hasn’t seen Jeno. He sees him every day since then. But tonight, he wants him all to himself.
Jaemin wants to hug Jeno without looking over his shoulder. Hold him without the fear of someone walking in. Wrap his arms around him as tight as he wants, however he wants.
So despite the mountain of tasks in front of him, Jaemin is practically glowing.
And apparently, it shows.
“You look suspiciously happy for someone trying to submit three J.Os before six,” Chenle points out, narrowing his eyes.
“Do you get paid extra for being nosy?” Jaemin shoots back, glaring. “You notice everything.”
“I’m just saying!” Chenle raises his hands defensively.
“Hmmm,” Haechan hums from nearby. “You have a date, don’t you?” He leans back in his chair, back to interrogating Jaemin now that he’d already cornered Jeno yesterday. “You didn’t mention anything.”
“Did I have to?!” Jaemin groans, aggressively clicking back to his Photoshop window.
Thankfully, Haechan backs off and leaves him alone perhaps out of mercy for the three looming deadlines.
By the end of the shift, Jaemin barely manages to finish enough to save himself from weekend overtime. But his brain is no longer cooperating. He stares at his screen, trying to decide where to place a headline, and it’s like he’s forgotten basic composition rules. Did kerning always look this confusing? It’s hopeless. At this point, he can’t barely focus on his work anymore. He’s already unproductive as ever.
He’s already mentally on a date with Jeno. Eventually, Jaemin gives up and accepts his fate. Thinks he’d rather sacrifice his weekend to work just to spend time with Jeno now.
By the time most of the office starts packing up, Jaemin and Jeno think they’ve successfully avoided further interrogation. They’re wrong.
“Jeno! You’re staying too?” Haechan calls out, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “You’re going to get stuck in traffic! I thought you had a date?”
Jeno shrugs casually. “I’m waiting for Jaemin,” he says.
Plain. Simple. Jaemin’s head snaps up. Did he just say that? Out loud? What happened to subtlety? To keeping things lowkey?
For half a second, Jaemin short-circuits. Then it clicks.
Right. Waiting for Jaemin to finish the material. So Jeno can send it back to the clients before the weekend. Professional. Innocent, and completely reasonable.
Haechan narrows his eyes at the two of them, suspicion practically radiating off him.
“Jaemin, you better hurry,” Haechan teases. “You’re holding Jeno back from his date.”
“Why don’t you mind your own business and leave with Mark already?” Jaemin fires back, waving him off.
Haechan gasps dramatically but allows himself to be shooed away, grabbing Mark by the arm.
“Fine, fine. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” He sing-songs, a mischievous giggle trailing behind him as they disappear out the door.
The office finally quiets. Just the two of them left again.
Even though Jaemin stays late, he eventually leans back in defeat. Fine. If he has to sacrifice part of his weekend to fix this tomorrow, so be it. He’d rather lose a few hours on Saturday than miss tonight.
Jeno has been waiting, and Jaemin had apologized at least five times while tweaking his final layout.
“Sorry. Just five more minutes.”
“Sorry. I swear I’m almost done.”
“Sorry, I didn’t think this would take so long.”
Jeno just laughs each time, leaning against Jaemin’s desk.
“Jaem, it’s fine,” he says. “Waiting for you is practically my job.”
Which, technically, isn’t wrong. He’s the one who handles Jaemin’s submissions. He’s the one who committed to the deadlines with the clients in the first place.
“If I’d known I was your Valentine’s plan,” Jeno adds lightly, “I would’ve negotiated a more workable deadline.”
Jaemin finally shuts his laptop.
“Next time,” Jaemin says, standing up, “prioritize accordingly.”
And this time, they’re both smiling.
❤️
To Jaemin’s surprise (or maybe not) Jeno has actually prepared.
Jeno pulls out his phone and shows a neatly organized note: a short list of restaurants within walking distance. Each one carefully chosen to avoid heavy traffic, and more importantly, strategically filtered based on where their coworkers are most likely to be.
It suddenly makes sense why Jeno had casually asked Mark and Haechan earlier where they were heading. He wasn’t being curious. He was eliminating risks. Unfortunately, every single place is packed. Fully booked with long waiting lists. Couples everywhere. They’re probably the one of the couples who decided to plan Valentine’s at the last possible second.
“Sorry,” Jeno murmurs, scrolling between Instagram pages and reservation apps, refreshing like a man hoping for divine intervention. “I couldn’t get us a reservation.”
“Hey.” Jaemin nudges his shoulder lightly. “It’s already more than enough that you made a list. I didn’t even get to help. I’m sorry.”
“You were busy, Jaem.” Jeno says immediately, offering him a reassuring smile. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” He glances around. “We can try walking in. Sometimes people cancel or don’t show up. Do you mind waiting?”
“Of course not, we can wait.” Jaemin replies easily. “One of those couples is bound to break up mid-argument. We just need good timing. Just trust.” He grins.
“Hey!” Jeno laughs, playfully swatting his arm. “That’s so mean! Don’t say that. You’re reducing our karma points.”
“You believe in karma?” Jaemin teases.
“Definitely.” Jeno nods.
Jaemin studies him with amused disbelief. “Didn’t peg you as the spiritual type or something,”
“What makes you think I’m not?” Jeno challenges.
“I don’t know. You seem more like the psychology-and-data kind of guy. Facts. Research. Charts,” Jaemin says, gesturing vaguely.
Jeno scoffs. “Absolutely not. Not when the tarot reading I did last week is literally unfolding right now. I cannot be any more convinced.”
That makes Jaemin pause. That piques his interest.
“Oh?” Jaemin says, suddenly intrigued. “What did it say?”
Jeno freezes for half a second. A blush creeps up his cheeks. He’s already regretting bringing it up.
“Well…” Jeno begins, rubbing the back of his neck. “I did a love reading before reinstalling a dating app.” Jaemin raises a brow but stays quiet, listening. “I pulled a few… confusing cards,” Jeno continues. “First was The Tower. Which honestly scared the hell out of me. It’s usually seen as a bad omen. It means something stable is about to collapse. Everything you thought was solid starts cracking. Big change. Sudden shift.”
Jaemin watches him closely, so closely it almost makes Jeno lose his train of thought. He pretends not to notice the intensity of that stare.
“But it’s not always negative,” Jeno adds quickly. “It can just mean that something long-established is about to change.” Jaemin hums softly, still focused on his face. “And then I pulled The Lovers.” Jeno lets out a small, embarrassed laugh.
Jaemin laughs too, even though he doesn’t fully know why. Something about Jeno laughing makes him want to follow.
“That one’s… pretty straightforward,” Jeno admits. “It’s a good card to get in a love reading. So I got excited. And nervous.”
“And lastly?” Jaemin prompts gently.
Jeno hesitates before continuing. “I pulled Strength. I asked the final card to represent the kind of person I was about to meet.”
“Does that mean you were going to meet someone strong?” Jaemin asks, genuinely curious.
“Well, yeah. That’s one interpretation,” Jeno shrugs.
Jaemin coughs lightly, then subtly flexes his bicep.
Jeno bursts out laughing, rolling his eyes. “You’re unbelievable.”
“I’m just saying,” Jaemin grins.
“It could mean that,” Jeno continues, still amused. “But it also represents a Leo.” He pauses. “And you’re a Leo, aren’t you?”
“Am I?” Jaemin blinks. He actually doesn’t know. Genuinely has no idea.
Jeno gasps. “You don’t know your star sign? You literally had it on your Bumble profile!”
“Did I?” Jaemin laughs, genuinely clueless. But secretly pleased that Jeno remembered something that specific.
“You did!” Jeno insists.
“Alright then,” Jaemin says slowly, leaning closer. “So the tarot cards basically told you I was meant to be your Valentine’s date… and yet you had zero intention of telling me you saw me on Bumble?” Jeno opens his mouth. “And we could’ve both been home by now,” Jaemin continues teasingly, “if I hadn’t brought it up first.”
Jeno groans softly, cheeks flushing again.
“You’re impossible,” Jeno mutters.
“But I’m right,” Jaemin says, grinning.
And this time, Jeno doesn’t deny it.
Jeno sighs. “Fine. Maybe. But I wasn’t sure, okay? You can’t be the only Leo on earth, Jaemin. That’s such a Leo thing for you to say.”
Jaemin laughs. “Is it?”
Jeno nods confidently. “You’ll learn more from me. Soon.”
Jaemin finds himself looking forward to that more than he expected. He likes discovering these small layers of Jeno, the tarot cards, the quiet beliefs, the parts no one else seems to notice. It makes him selfish in a way. Greedy. He likes that Jeno feels safe enough to peel himself open like this, just for him. Turning inside out.
“They’re just cards, anyway,” Jeno continues. “They’re guides at best. I still believe we’re always exactly where we’re meant to be. No matter what the cards say.”
“That,” Jaemin says immediately, pointing at him. “Exactly. I don’t think I’m spiritual either, but that’s my philosophy too. It helps with detaching from outcomes and just letting things unfold. Believing that even if something doesn’t go the way you want, it’s still leading you somewhere you’re supposed to be.”
Jaemin realizes he’s rambling. Jeno doesn’t interrupt though. He just watches him, smiling softly. There’s something warm in his gaze, almost sparkling.
Jaemin notices and falters. “What?”
“Nothing,” Jeno says with a small laugh. “It just surprises me. How similarly we think.”
“Yeah?” Jaemin grins. “Is that a Leo–Taurus thing?”
Jeno hums and pretends to think hard about it. “Maybe.”
They lose track of time sitting inside Jeno’s car. Thirty minutes pass without either of them noticing. No updates from any of the restaurants. No miracle openings.
Jaemin doesn’t even mind.
If anything, he’s content. He’d choose this, parked under dim streetlights, knees brushing in the driver’s seat over any overpriced candlelit dinner.
“So,” Jaemin says eventually, leaning back. “To prove my point, I think this is happening for a reason.”
Jeno glances at him. “Meaning?”
“Burnt toast theory,” Jaemin shrugs. “Maybe we’re being kept from those restaurants for a reason.”
“Right,” Jeno nods slowly. “We’re exactly where we’re meant to be.” He gestures around them. “Which is… in my car. In a parking lot. So we’re meant to spend Valentine’s in my car.”
Jaemin laughs. “Well, another truth is we can choose whatever we want and still end up where we’re meant to be.”
Jeno looks at him, waiting.
Jaemin tilts his head slightly. “You know I live nearby, right?”
Jeno raises an eyebrow, already catching on at what Jaemin might be suggesting.
“That’s why I walk to work and don’t bring a car,” Jaemin adds casually.
“Yeah,” Jeno says slowly. “I know.”
“So…” Jaemin trails off, trying, and failing, to sound nonchalant. “What do you think about coming to my place instead?”
❤️
After all, Jeno didn’t need much convincing, especially when he’d rather be anywhere than confined to his car at the moment. Of course, he had given it some thought. The idea of being at Jaemin’s place excites him, but it also makes him anxious, unsure if it’s too early for whatever they have. But to hell with pacing. Jeno decides to let things unfold naturally. Just as they’d pointed out moments ago, they’re exactly where they’re meant to be. Besides, they’re both starving at this point.
“A-are you sure you don’t mind?” Jeno asks as they park in Jaemin’s designated slot.
“Jen, I suggested it. Of course I don’t,” Jaemin assures him as he unbuckles his seat belt. “I’d really love to have you over.”
Jeno nods, swallowing at the implication, at what that could mean, hoping Jaemin doesn’t notice his nerves as he unbuckles his own seat belt.
“I should be asking you, though. Are you comfortable with this?” Jaemin asks genuinely before they step out of the car.
“Of course. Why not?” Jeno shrugs and smiles at Jaemin, his eyes disappearing into crescents. “I’d love to see your place. And I want to try your specialty. Are you sure you’re not too tired to cook?”
“Easy peasy,” Jaemin grins as they step out of the car.
Jeno visibly fidgets on the way up to Jaemin’s condo, but he quickly relaxes when Jaemin wraps an arm around his waist. In the back of his mind, Jeno whispers a silent finally. They can be intimate without worrying about prying eyes. And he loves it allready. Something about physical touch keeps him grounded and at ease. He doesn’t know why.
They step out of the elevator on the eleventh floor. Jaemin’s hand, which had been around his waist, slips down to lace their fingers together, squeezing his sweaty palm. Jaemin turns to smile at Jeno as they walk down the hallway, stopping in front of what Jeno assumes is his place while Jaemin fishes his keys from his pocket. After a brief rustle, Jaemin pushes the door open and is greeted by three nearly identical felines rubbing against his feet.
“Hi, babies,” Jaemin says in a high-pitched voice as he crouches to pet the three furballs. Just as Jeno is about to crouch down to slip off his shoes, a loud sneeze racks his body.
“Wait- oh my God.” Jaemin straightens abruptly and blinks at Jeno. “Are you allergic?”
Jeno chuckles and shrugs. “It’s okay. It’s not life-threatening.”
“Oh my God, Jeno, I’m so sorry. I should’ve told you,” Jaemin says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Are you sure you’ll be okay? I’ll get you some antihistamines.” Genuine worry spreads across his face.
“It’s fine, Jaemin. I don’t mind. That would really help,” Jeno assures him as they walk inside, the cats still purring and weaving around their feet. Jeno steps carefully to avoid them, then looks down and coos, “Can I pet them?”
“Are you sure?” Jaemin asks, genuine concern in his voice. “Of course you can. Just don’t touch your eyes or nose before I get you the meds.”
Jeno beams, excitement lighting up his face as he immediately crouches to greet the friendly felines.
“Hello, cutie. Hello!” Jeno coos, letting them rub against his hand. “They’re so friendly. How do you tell them apart? They look identical.”
Jaemin smiles as he watches Jeno pet the most precious beings in his life. They’re finally meeting the subjects of his endless stories. Maybe that’s why they’ve taken to him so quickly. Maybe they just know.
“It’s not that hard when you live with them. That’s Lucy, Luna, and Luke.” Jaemin points to each one in turn. Jeno barely registers who’s who before another sneeze shakes him. “Alright, that’s it. No more touching until you’ve had your meds. Come on.”
Jaemin gestures for Jeno to step further inside.
Jeno glances around. Jaemin’s place is cozy, almost like a thoughtfully designed Airbnb. He watches Jaemin switch on several lamps, bathing the space in a warm, inviting glow. The minimalist, Bauhaus-inspired décor reflects careful curation. The space alone speaks of Jaemin’s creativity.
It isn’t large, just enough for one person and three cats. But somehow, Jaemin makes it feel like there’s room for more. Like there’s space quietly waiting for Jeno.
Near the living room is a compact kitchen with an island, pendant lights hanging low above it. Jeno follows Jaemin’s movements as he heads to the fridge and pulls out ingredients one by one.
“See? Everything happens for a reason. Good thing I had time to go grocery shopping yesterday,” Jaemin grins, turning to him.
“So, what’s on the menu?” Jeno asks, settling onto one of the high stools by the island.
“Pasta Amatriciana,” Jaemin declares in an exaggerated Italian accent, finishing with a dramatic chef’s kiss. Jeno chuckles. “Are you into pasta?”
“I am,” Jeno replies with a grin. At this point, he’d have anything. Especially if Jaemin is making it for him. He intends to just sit and watch, but—
“Oh, I’m helping,” Jeno insists, sliding off the stool and walking over.
“Oh, no, no. Just sit there and look pretty for me, please. Be my guest.” Jaemin bows theatrically. Jeno rolls his eyes.
“No, please. I can’t,” Jeno insists, already scanning for something to do.
Jaemin clicks his tongue. “Jeno, please. It’s okay.”
“I’m not used to it…” Jeno finally admits. Jaemin blinks at him. “Please?” Jeno adds, blinking rapidly in mock pleading.
“Fine,” Jaemin sighs. “But you’re going to have to get used to it now.”
“Used to what?”
“To me doing things for you. Taking care of you,” Jaemin says casually, and Jeno feels heat creep up his neck.
Jeno focuses on chopping the ingredients Jaemin hands him. A few moments later, he feels a pair of arms slide around his waist from behind. He flinches at the sudden contact.
“And this too. You’re going to have to get used to this,” Jaemin murmurs, resting his chin on Jeno’s shoulder as he tightens his arms around his waist. From this close, he can take in Jeno properly, his cologne, his shampoo, even the faint scent of his body wash. Jaemin inhales through the fabric of Jeno’s shirt, trailing upward until he reaches the side of Jeno’s neck, just beneath his ear. The contact makes Jeno buckle. Jaemin chuckles softly against his skin at how ticklish he is.
Maybe next time, he’ll attack him with tickles. When Jeno isn’t holding a freshly sharpened kitchen knife.
The gesture sends butterflies erupting in Jeno’s stomach, making it nearly impossible to focus on what he’s slicing. His knees weaken as he melts into Jaemin’s warmth. He’s so warm.
“You really meant it when you said you’re touchy,” Jeno says with a small laugh. Jaemin hums in response.
“Exactly how you like it,” Jaemin replies proudly. He nuzzles Jeno’s neck again, almost like one of his cats. As he breathes in the warmth of his skin, he can’t resist pressing a kiss there, which makes Jeno jolt.
“Jaemin!” Jeno squeals. “I’m going to cut my finger if you keep that up!”
“Well, I told you I could handle it. So you’re getting this instead,” Jaemin teases.
“That doesn’t sound like a compromise. I’m still chopping,” Jeno insists, which only encourages Jaemin to distract him further, this time pressing slower, open-mouthed kisses along his skin. Leaving trails of moist on his skin.
“Jaem…” Jeno murmurs weakly.
“Hmm?” Jaemin hums, not loosening his embrace.
Jeno sets the knife down on the cutting board, grips Jaemin’s arms around his waist, and twists slightly, just enough to face him. Their faces end up inches apart, and Jaemin inhales sharply at the sudden closeness. Their noses brush. Jeno pulls apart to push his glasses up his head, then Jeno can almost feel Jaemin’s lashes flutter as his gaze drops from Jeno’s eyes to his lips. Jaemin leans forward until their foreheads touch, smiling softly.
“Is this okay?” Jaemin whispers. Jeno hums faintly. “Can I kiss you?”
Jeno nods and closes the distance.
The first touch of their lips is electrifying. Jeno lets Jaemin linger there for a moment before moving slowly, capturing Jaemin’s bottom lip between his own. It’s unhurried and gentle, more a test of how far they can go than anything else. Jaemin responds in kind, savoring the softness of Jeno’s lips against his. Eventually, Jeno pulls back slightly.
“That was nice,” Jaemin says, his voice low. “This is nice.” Jeno hums in agreement.
“But we’re supposed to cook,” Jeno mumbles, though Jaemin can still feel the warmth of his breath against his mouth. Jaemin chuckles and eases back, giving them space, since Jeno clearly isn’t following through with his words.
“Later,” Jeno murmurs, a smile evident in his voice.
“Yeah?” Jaemin grins, planting a loud kiss on Jeno’s cheek before pulling away to check on the boiling pasta. Jeno already wants to tug him back.
Later.
By the time the pasta is ready, Jaemin sets the table for two. Jeno tells him not to bother with plating or presentation, but Jaemin insists, determined to make it look special, like something served at a fine dining restaurant. Starving as he is, Jeno can’t stop him.
He snorts as he watches Jaemin carefully twirl the pasta into the center of the plate and garnish it with a few leaves.
“Acting like a real art director,” Jeno laughs. “This isn’t for a key visual, babe. I’m hungry.”
Jaemin pauses at the endearment. Jeno immediately blushes at what slipped out, but Jaemin only smirks and walks to the kitchen island, pulling candle holders from a cupboard.
“Oh God,” Jeno chortles when he sees them.
“What?!” Jaemin laughs.
“I’m starting to think you planned this all along with how prepared you are. How do you even have all this stuff?” Jeno asks as Jaemin sets out wine glasses. “You’ve probably brought everyone here for dates.”
“Except I haven’t,” Jaemin counters.
“I don’t believe you,” Jeno says, rolling his eyes.
“Or maybe I’ve just been unknowingly preparing for this moment,” Jaemin shrugs as he sets down the silverware. Finally.
He steps over and pulls out a chair for Jeno, finishing with another theatrical bow.
And it’s true what they say, cooking is an art, too. And Jaemin is just as skilled at it as he is with any other form of art. The food is incredible. Jeno finds himself relieved they’re here instead of at some overpriced restaurant. This is better. So much better.
They share the meal in comfortable silence, likely because they’ve both been starving, finishing with a shared glass of wine.
By the time they’re done, it’s already late. Jaemin insists on leaving the dishes for later so they can watch a movie in the living room first, “to complete the Valentine’s date package,” he says.
The wine leaves Jeno flushed and warm. His tolerance can’t be that low, but all he wants now is to close his eyes, maybe lie down. Maybe be in certain someone’s arms.
As soon as they settle on the couch, Jaemin drapes an arm around Jeno’s shoulders while browsing through Netflix, letting Jeno lean into him. This time, Jeno doesn’t hold back. He scoots closer and wraps his arms around Jaemin’s waist.
“You really like hugging,” Jaemin observes. Jeno nods against his chest. “Poor Jeno, deprived of his hugs for so long. Has it been that long?”
“Yeah,” Jeno admits. Jaemin preens at that.
He tightens his hold, rubbing Jeno’s arm through his cardigan. Jeno yawns softly.
“Anything you want to watch?” Jaemin asks, remote still raised toward the TV. His voice vibrates against Jeno’s cheek, and from this position, Jeno can practically hear his heartbeat.
“I don’t really feel like watching anything,” Jeno says, lifting himself from Jaemin’s chest. Jaemin turns to him, and Jeno catches the fleeting disappointment that crosses his face, like he thinks Jeno’s about to leave.
Maybe it’s the wine, but Jeno feels bolder. “I actually feel like doing this.”
He reaches up, cupping Jaemin’s jaw and pulling him into a kiss.
Jaemin lets him, laughing softly into it as Jeno slides a hand to the back of his neck, guiding him closer.
“I see you don’t just like hugs,” Jaemin murmurs when he pulls back slightly, only to press a few more quick kisses to Jeno’s lips as he hovers over him. A few shuffles, then he’s on top of Jeno, slotted between their now tangled legs in his scant couch. It’s not for two people. But they can work around it when they’re horizontal against each other anyway. Jeno lifts his head, chasing his mouth again, fingers brushing the nape of his neck.
Jaemin pauses, taking in the man beneath him. “God, Jeno. You’re so pretty,” he whispers, eyes tracing every detail of his face. He’s always been attracted to Jeno, it’s impossible not to be. But this close, it feels different. He wants him.
He leans down, placing soft kisses across Jeno’s face as though worshipping him like he deserves. He pushes the strands draping Jeno’s forehead, pulls off his glasses, then kisses his eyelids, the tip of his nose, the mole beneath his eye, his cheek, jaw, chin, cupid’s bow, before finally returning to his lips.
This time, Jeno captures his lips and holds him there, as if he has no intention of letting go.
The kiss deepens slightly, still unhurried, as Jaemin’s hand travels along Jeno’s side.
“Is this okay?” Jaemin whispers against his mouth when he pulls back for air. Jeno nods.
Jaemin feels like he might combust. He can’t quite believe this is happening. That he has Jeno like this. In his couch. Everything feels fast, but slowing down is impossible when Jeno keeps pulling him closer.
“Jeno…” Jaemin murmurs against his neck. “I like you. So much.”
Jeno hums softly. When they meet each other’s gaze again, Jeno smiles and lifts a hand to trace Jaemin’s cheekbone. “I like you too, Jaem. A lot,” he says, thumb brushing gently over his skin.
Jaemin leans into the touch, turning to press a kiss into Jeno’s palm.
“So… intimacy without commitment, huh?” Jaemin teases, trailing gentle kisses along Jeno’s neck while threading his fingers through his hair. His thoughts are louder than he lets on. His mind screaming what are we? What are we? What are we?! “Is that what this is?” He looks up into Jeno’s wide eyes.
Jeno scoffs lightly and shakes his head.
“Nope. Absolutely not.”
Jaemin blinks, his smile mirroring Jeno’s. “Then what does that mean?” he asks, brushing a strand of hair away from Jeno’s face.
“You, of all people, should know I can’t do anything without committing, Jaem,” Jeno says with a soft laugh, holding his gaze.
Jaemin searches Jeno’s eyes, still unsure what that means beyond mere words. He isn’t in a rush. He wants to take his time getting to know Jeno better. He wants to build something steady with him, something that grows over time, if only Jeno is on the same page.
As he looks at him now, Jaemin lets his guard down completely, opening his heart again and hoping Jeno feels safe enough to do the same. He couldn’t care less how this might end. He’s willing to take the risk, knowing Jeno will be worth it.
Jaemin leans in to kiss Jeno once more, slow and passionate.
“I like you so much,” Jaemin says again. He wishes he had better words. He’s an art director, after all. Mark, the copywriter, would be better at this.
Someday, maybe, there will be better words. Right now, Jeno leaves him speechless.
“I like you too, Jaem. I like this. I want this,” Jeno says against his lips. “I want this for a long time. You make me want to try.”
This time, the kiss deepens as Jaemin slowly attempts to slide his tongue past Jeno’s lips. Gentle, testing. Coaxing. Jeno responds, meeting Jaemin’s tongue with his own, drawing a soft whimper from him as Jaemin groans at the contact.
Jaemin savors the faint, bittersweet taste of wine on Jeno’s tongue, urging him closer as his hands roam across Jeno’s chest and up to grip his broad shoulders. He’s always known Jeno looked broad and solid beneath his cozy clothes, but damn, he’s firm. Even through the layers of fabric, Jaemin can feel the strength in him, making his head spin and leaving him wanting more.
When Jaemin shifts his weight further onto Jeno, his thigh accidentally slips between Jeno’s legs, brushing against him and pulling an unmistakable moan from Jeno’s mouth. The sound makes Jeno stiffen in embarrassment as it registers, but Jaemin only laughs softly against his lips, continuing to kiss him without mercy.
Jaemin does it again, pressing his thigh more deliberately this time against the obvious hardness beneath Jeno’s slacks. Jeno’s mouth falls open at the sensation, a small gasp escaping as his eyes flutter shut beautifully, an unspoken plea for more.
When Jeno looks at him with half-lidded eyes, Jaemin holds his gaze, silently asking for permission. Jeno understands and nods before pulling him back into another kiss.
Jaemin presses harder now, his own arousal grinding against Jeno’s thigh, a tight heat coiling low in his stomach as small, uncontrolled sounds leave him too. His heart pounds against his ribs as Jeno’s hand slides from his nape to his chest, resting there, pressing and squeezing lightly.
Jeno chuckles when he pulls back, breathing shallowly while Jaemin continues to move against him.
“Damn, Jaem. You’re ripped,” Jeno says breathlessly.
Jaemin lets out a soft laugh as he experimentally slips his hand inside Jeno’s shirt, his fingertips trailing up Jeno’s stomach and tracing the defined lines of his abs. “You are speaking, yourself.”
Jeno leans into the touch, biting his lower lip as Jaemin’s fingers glide over his skin. Cool air brushes against his skin when Jaemin pushes his shirt up, exposing his toned abdomen. Jaemin stares openly, practically gawking at the sight beneath him. It compels him to look back up at Jeno, lift his hips, align their clothed cocks, and press firmly.
“Jaem,” Jeno moans, his back arching, head tipping against the armrest of the couch, exposing his neck as faint red spots bloom across his skin.
Jaemin whimpers at the sensation, his head spinning with lust as his hips move instinctively against Jeno, matching the hardness of his own. To hell with slowing down, there’s no way he can stop now. Not when Jeno looks like this. Not with the sounds he’s making beneath him. He never knew Jeno could sound like that.
Jaemin captures his mouth again and slips a finger between Jeno’s skin and the waistband of his slacks, teasing. Another silent request for permission.
Jeno grabs Jaemin’s wrist while still sucking gently on his tongue. For a second, Jaemin thinks it’s his cue to stop, though he wouldn’t mind, but Jeno instead guides his hand down between their hips, placing it over his zipper. He moans at the brief contact of Jaemin’s hand against the head of his cock straining through the fabric.
“Fuck,” Jaemin breathes, the curse slipping out as a moan instead of staying in his head. “You’re going to make me lose my mind, Jen.”
Jeno smirks against his mouth. “Good.”
Jaemin’s fingers work open Jeno’s zipper and unbutton his slacks. The soft fabric parts, revealing gray underwear and the unmistakable damp patch beneath the waistband. Wasting no time, Jaemin slides his hand down to cup Jeno’s hardened arousal.
Jeno chokes on a moan as Jaemin squeezes gently through the fabric, stroking and tracing his length.
Jaemin feels breathless. He expected Jeno to be big, but expectation is one thing; confirmation is another. It makes his own cock twitch in his pants, something Jeno likely feels against his thigh. Dizzy with want, greedy for more, Jaemin presses his forehead to Jeno’s before glancing down at his hand, then back up to kiss him again. Slowly, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of Jeno’s boxers and tugs them down just enough to free his aching cock, which springs up against his torso.
“Oh God,” Jaemin whispers, staring at Jeno’s leaking length as he wraps his hand around it. Jeno is thick.
“Jaemin,” Jeno breathes, arching into the touch as Jaemin squeezes lightly. He swipes his thumb over the wet slit, spreading the moisture over the smooth, pink, flushed head. His hand moves in slow, deliberate strokes, just enough to drive Jeno wild, to make him even harder than he already is.
“Can I suck you off?” Jaemin murmurs between kisses, never stopping the steady motion of his hand. The words alone pull a moan from Jeno, who nods quickly, more eager than he probably intended.
Jaemin presses one last kiss to Jeno’s lips before sliding down. His free hand laces with Jeno’s fingers and guides it to the back of his head as he positions himself in front of Jeno’s leaking cock. Jeno has him drooling. There’s no room for teasing when the craving is this strong.
Jaemin darts his tongue out and licks a slow, wet stripe along Jeno’s length, instantly making him squirm at the heated glide beneath his cock. He presses open-mouthed kisses along the girth, tongue tracing the thin protruding veins, eyes closed as if savoring the act for himself. Jaemin drags his tongue back up to the head, flicking it over the slit and collecting the sticky liquid there, drawing a sharp gasp from Jeno as his fingers tangle in Jaemin’s hair.
The sensation pulls a moan from Jaemin as he finally wraps his lips around the head of Jeno’s cock, adjusting his position so he can grind his own arousal against Jeno’s calf.
He glances up at Jeno, who’s watching him with furrowed brows and parted lips, completely debauched by the sight of Jaemin’s pink mouth sealed around him, producing soft, wet sounds as he sucks more firmly.
“Oh my God,” Jeno breathes at the obscene image, his cock impalled in Jaemin’s mouth, cheeks hollowed, lips stretched around his shaft. Jaemin barely moves at first, almost indulgent, savoring the salty pre-cum leaking from the slit as he presses himself against Jeno’s leg.
When he’s done teasing, Jaemin opens wider and takes more of Jeno into his mouth. Jeno practically cries out when he’s only halfway inside the heat of Jaemin’s mouth, stomach tightening as he struggles to breathe, fingers gripping harder in Jaemin’s hair. Jaemin pauses, then pushes deeper until Jeno’s tip brushes his throat and his nose nudges the trimmed hair above his cock.
“Jaemin, Jaemin,” Jeno chants, voice breaking as he unconsciously pushes his head down further. Jaemin’s throat constricts around him, a muffled gag sending Jeno spiraling as Jaemin moans against him.
Recovering quickly, Jaemin slides his tongue beneath the head before moving again, up and down, until he finds a steady rhythm, cheeks hollowed as he bobs his head. One hand works what his mouth can’t take, twisting in sync. He tugs Jeno’s boxers lower, freeing him completely down to his aching balls.
Jeno is loud now, gasping, moaning, repeating Jaemin’s name, clapping a hand over his mouth when he nearly screams as Jaemin licks along his balls and takes one into his mouth. Jaemin moans at the soft, velvety, and warm texture on his tongue.
Somewhere in between, Jaemin had managed to lift his hips, unzips his own pants just enough to free himself, stroking his length while still working Jeno. Jeno can’t see it, but the thought alone, Jaemin touching himself while devouring him, nearly tips him over the edge.
“Jaem,” Jeno stutters as Jaemin licks back up his cock. “I- I’m close. Please.”
Jaemin presses one last kiss to the tip before rising to capture Jeno’s mouth. The idea of kissing lips that were just wrapped around his cock almost makes Jeno snap, but what truly unravels him is the hot slide of Jaemin’s cock brushing against his own.
They pull back at the same time, glancing down at where they meet. Jaemin’s length is slick with the pre-cum he’d spread but not enough, he brings his hand to his mouth and spits into his palm.
Jeno gasps at the filthy gesture. Jaemin spreads the spit along his cock before pressing it back against Jeno’s, both lengths sliding together from Jaemin’s spit with ease now.
Jaemin lowers his forehead to Jeno’s as they watch themselves move, slow at first, then faster. The sight is obscene, hypnotic. Jeno is so close. The breathless noises Jaemin makes only push him further as their cocks grind harder and quicker.
“I’m close, baby,” Jaemin murmurs against his mouth. Brows scrunched up in pleasure.
“Me too, me too,” Jeno whimpers.
Jaemin lifts his hips slightly to make room for his hand, wrapping his fingers around both of them, squeezing their hard lengths together. They moan in unison as he strokes them at once, their equally thick girths barely fitting in his grasp. Jaemin kisses him again, and after a few more tight strokes and a broken moan, Jeno arches sharply beneath him and comes undone, spilling across his stomach and into Jaemin’s hand.
Jaemin pulls back just enough to watch him through it. Jeno looks wrecked, mouth open, brows drawn tight, utterly undone. He did this. Jaemin made him like this. He glows at that. He wants more of this.
Jaemin keeps stroking them together, faster, chasing his own release as he grunts and finally spills over their joined cocks.
Jeno pants beneath him as they ride it out, Jaemin capturing his mouth again and pushing his tongue inside while the aftershocks fade. His heart pounds so hard Jeno can feel it against his ear.
“You’re so fucking hot,” Jeno murmurs once they finally begin to come down, both still trembling from the intensity. Jaemin practically slumps on top of Jeno.
Jaemin swears he can hear the ringing in his ears.
“Yeah?” Jaemin smirks, leaning down for one last kiss before pulling back slightly.
“Happy Valentine’s, Jaem.”
“Happy Valentine’s, baby.”