Chapter Text

Transferring to this university was the best decision Jeno has ever made, and he knows this.

His old campus was closed off in the middle of nowhere, the buildings were old and had terrible insulation during winter, his classes were constantly cancelled after heavy rain would flood the sciences building, and on top of it all his unavoidable Calculus I and II professor hated his guts for no particular reason.

The town around the university was small, everybody seemed to know each other well and remember every embarrassing moment from their high school times, so Jeno needed a way out. He had to leave that place.

As much as he loved his hometown, Jeno couldn’t stand the idea of graduating from that university, and getting a job at the hydro plant near the river, and getting married to one of the sweet girls in his parent’s neighbourhood, and just never leaving. A nice small town boy forever.

The thought of running into his past everyday and having to look at it in the eyes for the rest of his life scared him too much. All of his nightmares ended with the same frozen frame: a tombstone in that cemetery he knew too well, right beside his parent’s future graves, with a terrifying inscription.

Lee Jeno

23.04.2000 - 06.09.2069

Loving, unremarkable son

It was tough, to say the least. His life would be much easier living close to his family, he knew everything and everyone too well, and he knew his mother could never afford to pay for tuition in a big city university.

But, deep in his heart, he knew staying would be the biggest regret of his life. He needed to get out, and he needed to do it before it was too late.

So, Jeno spent the best part of his first year applying for transfers in different cities, looking up different Engineering departments with fancy facilities and renowned professors, writing his worst and fakest personal essays for scholarships and awards, and praying any of them would accept him.

Jeno didn’t think of himself as particularly religious, but the obsessive amount of thought he put into this can only be described as praying. Manifesting, if you will.

He had to keep his current grades up, of course, but he couldn’t shake his head off his final goal. He never even considered what he would do if all universities rejected him; there was just no other choice.

The work paid off. In that March afternoon, he remembers very clearly the way his hands shook as he looked through his emails, reading how the scholarship letter called him outstanding, the way his mother smiled at him when he ran all the way to her house from his small dorm room to tell her the news.

His family was proud of him, it was his first option after all. But they could never hide their worry from Jeno. He saw it in his parent’s eyes and hesitant hands every time he spent too much time with them. They were going to miss him terribly, and he would miss them too, but he couldn’t give up now.

He spent that entire summer saying his goodbyes and preparing to move into his new life, at the other side of the country. For the first time, Jeno felt like he had complete control of his life and he was proud of it.

Transferring to this university was the worst decision Jeno has ever made, and even thinking about his regret was enough for him to feel dizzy.

Don’t get him wrong, he knows this is the greatest opportunity he has to make something out of his life. Logically speaking, his classes are amazing, the campus is huge and well situated, all of the buildings are modern and filled with the newest technology he could dream of, even the part-time job at the arts&crafts store pays him well enough. As far as university life goes, Jeno’s is going perfectly.

But, no matter how hard he tries, he can’t help the loneliness that crawled up his rib cage and settled in his throat after he moved. The people around campus are polite, but never friendly enough to keep conversation. His classmates are nice, but they all seem so immersed in their own little world that Jeno is afraid of approaching them and disturbing the balance. His coworkers are funny, but none of them are really interested in seeing each other more than necessary. His roommate is cool, but they can never exchange more than a few sentences before the conversation dies out.

Jeno knows he’s not alone, he’s surrounded by people the whole day. Still, when he goes to sleep in an empty bed or spends his free time by himself in his room, he feels utterly, miserably lonely.

It’s pathetic, to say the least, when he walks around campus and sees other people enjoying the company of their friends, meeting up after a class or having lunch together. All of them already have figured it out and know some secret to social life that Jeno isn’t privy to yet.

In moments like this, he realizes how he took the familiarity of his small town for granted. Jeno would never describe that town as a tightly knit community, but leaving the house always meant walking by the same old streets and waving politely at the same old people, going about their same old routines. Everything was known, and it was all he had known his entire life.

Now, he can walk for hours around the city and not recognize a single face, not remember any of the neighbourhoods. It’s as liberating as it is frightening.

He can be whoever he wants to be, but Jeno knows that what he wants the most is to be known. Whenever he can’t sleep, he imagines the ground could swallow him whole and there would be no one to even know he went missing.

He tries not to think about it too much, but it’s fruitless without someone else to talk with and occupy his time. He’s surprised that his throat is still capable of giving him voice when he can count on both hands the number of words he says in a week.

Jeno is trying, he really is. He pushes himself to try making friends in class, even joins a cycling club, but when he has the chance to make a meaningful connection right in front of him he just… freezes. He talks a bit too awkwardly, answers a bit too late, turns too inward; he blinks and the people swim away with the shoal.

None of the people he knew back home kept in touch, they cut him off like a weed.  Oh, he’s just too good for this place, we’ll never be enough for the perfect boy Jeno. He doesn’t know what to do. Jeno didn’t have a lot of friends in school, but this is the first time he feels truly incapable of getting to know someone else.

With time, he starts struggling more with his assignments, his sleep schedule worsens and the voice in the back of his head keeps telling him he’s just one step away from failing Computing Systems II and losing his scholarship.

You’re wasting your time here, you’re just waiting for them to explicitly reject you and you’ll have to go back home with your tail between your legs. You couldn’t graduate there, but you definitely won’t here.

Somehow, Jeno manages to finish his second year with acceptable grades, so he’s prepared to spend his entire summer by himself between work, gym, and his bed. Yay, very exciting.

It’s mid-May, he woke up a bit later than usual after yet another night of staring at the ceiling until 3 AM. His body is heavy with pent up exhaustion, and he tries shifting in bed to go back to sleep before his stomach grumbling gets too loud to be ignored.

He visualizes the cup of coffee he’ll make, the run around the park, the readings he needs to catch up on, the closing shift at the store—all the day plans he has to get through before laying in bed again. He’s getting used to it, one day at a time.

What he wasn’t expecting was to get up and see his roommate talking to their landlord on their sofa. Jeno walks quietly to the kitchen to make himself coffee and tries to not eavesdrop into their conversation, but it’s unavoidable. Yunho doesn’t seem to notice he got out of his room, because he continues talking normally. His voice is a bit muffled by the wall, but his words are clear.

“... no problem with taking my name out of the lease then?”

“Oh, don’t worry, you two have been such good tenants, I won’t complicate it for you,” she answers sweetly. “I’m glad you warned me in advance, I’ll send you the legal details tomorrow and when you take a look you tell me what you think.”

“Thank you so much, I’m gonna talk to him and get started as soon as possible.”

Jeno wants to pretend he wasn’t listening, but he’s been staring at the wall, unmoving, his spoon forgotten beside his mug. Did Yunho want to talk to him? Was Jeno even the “him” Yunho mentioned? Since when had he been planning on moving out?

There’s some rustling coming from the living room, followed by an exchange of pleasantries and what he assumes is Yunho walking their landlord to the door. Soon after, Yunho himself walks into the kitchen and begins taking out fruit from the fridge to prepare his own breakfast.

Jeno is still frozen in place. He can’t find the energy to feel angry or sad, so he settles for confusion.

“Why didn’t you tell me you want to move out?” He thinks his voice is levelled and calm, but when he turns to face Yunho, his eyebrows have shot up and it’s his turn to freeze, like a deer caught in headlights.

“Didn’t I tell you before?” He speaks slowly, as if trying to search for the memory. “I- I was sure we had discussed this, was it February? Or- no, maybe it was after my birthday…”

“Yunho, it’s fine,” he lies and forces a small smile. It wasn’t fine, it was Jeno’s life spiraling even farther out of his control.

He had been living with Yunho since last September, and he was a good roommate. Jeno found him in a Facebook group for Science and Engineering students, looking for someone to share a place close to campus, and immediately messaged him to set up an agreement. They split the rent, share the space, and Jeno is able to avoid living an hour away from all his classes, so it was the perfect deal.

Yunho was nice, never left too much of a mess, never made things difficult between them, but they weren’t friends; they simply coexisted in the same place.

Still, Jeno had a pit growing in his stomach knowing he was about to move out and didn’t even remember to tell him. Yunho looked a bit embarrassed of it when he continued speaking.

“Look, I’m going to spend a couple months back at my parents house for the summer, and after that I’m moving in with my boyfriend,” he makes a point to look away from Jeno’s eyes when he stutters at the last word.

Jeno had only ever seen the guy a few times, never really talked, but he knew Yunho brought him over regularly from his I have a guest texts almost every week. He never understood why he avoided the subject, but maybe it was just another way in which they weren’t that close.

“I should’ve told you before, I’m really sorry.”

“When are you leaving?” Jeno hoped he sounded less affected than he felt. He had no right to push his feelings onto Yunho like that.

“The landlord said she can take me out of the lease as soon as next week, but I’m probably staying until the 14th,” he says, playing with the fruit knife in his hands. He’s about to grab the apple he left on the counter when he looks back at Jeno and adds, hurriedly, “Don’t worry! I’m still paying my share from June even if I don’t stay that long.”

God, this is awful. How was he supposed to find a new roommate in less than a month? He could never afford to stay there on his own, but looking for a new apartment would be near impossible. Asking his parents for help was out of the question, it would only be one step closer to giving up and going back home. Maybe he could ask for more hours at the store, or even get a second job, but then what happens when he needs to go back to class? Oh, he was fucked.

Perhaps Jeno starts letting his anxieties show a bit too much, because Yunho stares at him worriedly and begins talking again.

“Hey, uhm…” he hesitates for a moment, letting out a deep sigh, “I know this is a bit shitty, I can help you look for someone to fill the room, alright? It’s a nice place, I’m sure we’ll find someone desperate enough to move quickly,” Yunho grimaces when he realizes he used the word desperate, but he puts a reassuring hand on Jeno’s shoulder anyway.

This might be the closest they stood in months, and Jeno could smell the cologne that always lingered from Yunho’s clothes on laundry day. It fuels an itch under his skin, like he hasn’t been touched in years, and it makes Jeno so nervous his ribs feel like they are made of needles.

They didn’t say anything out of pocket, but the conversation just becomes so unbearably awkward Jeno is willing to accept anything to run away.

“Okay, uhm. Yeah, thank you,” he accepts the offer before grabbing the empty coffee mug and power-walking to his room.

Well. At least he offered to help. Jeno can work with that.

✭

The next month passed by in a flurry. 

Yunho kept his promise. The two of them spent hours in Facebook student groups and summer events trying to look for a new roommate, but it seemed to be going nowhere. Yunho’s boyfriend kept coming over in those weeks to help him pack, and the vanishing cutlery and furniture was driving Jeno insane.

He couldn’t lie to himself. He didn’t think Yunho’s help would actually matter, so he was mentally preparing for a rushed move out of his own. Or, at least trying to prepare. He was glad to be wrong, though.

Three days before leaving, Yunho texts him saying he found a guy willing to move in by the end of June. He says he was a friend of his boyfriend’s friend, which doesn’t inspire a lot of confidence, but he swears he has met the guy once and he’d be trustworthy.

I passed on your number, he said he wanted to talk to you first he sent. Jeno spends the rest of that day itching to check his phone, waiting for a text or, God forbid, a phone call. It’s a bit past 10 PM when Jeno hears the notification pop up.

Unknown number

heyy

youre jeno right?

sorry ik its kinda late but if i didnt text you now id forget in the morning

youre looking for a roommate?

wait im mark btw

Jeno had waited for this message the whole day, but seeing it only makes him more nervous. The guy is pretty casual, should he answer casually too? But he still doesn’t know him at all, and they need to discuss this seriously. God, Jeno, don’t think too hard, just type it.

Me

Hi, yes this is Jeno

Don’t worry about the time, it’s fine

And yes, I’m looking for someone to fill in the spare room here

Unknown number

sweet, hj gave me your number earlier

i should ask about the details of the place but

ngl im pretty desperate for just anywhere to live so whatever youre offering im taking it

i can visit the place this week and get signed whenever its best for you

Me

Can you come Friday? I’ll send you the address and call the landlord so you can talk to her in person too

I’m also pretty desperate for a roommate so I guess we’re on the same page

Unknown number

oh haha thats good to know

yeah i can go friday

youre really saving my ass rn bro ty

A bit of the tension on Jeno’s shoulders eases up, knowing they really found someone “desperate” enough to move in with him so soon. Mark is very straightforward and that makes Jeno want to be honest with him too. It’s nice.

He goes ahead and saves his contact before it gets lost. He wonders if he should just let the conversation die, or try talking more to him. About what, he doesn’t know, but it feels so good to finally talk to a person that needs him (in a way) as much as he needs them, he can’t let the chance slip past. Does he really want to live with a Yunho 2.0 that he doesn’t know at all?

He doesn’t know where his sudden burst of confidence is coming from, but his hands act faster than his brain and type out another message.

Me

Wait

I just have a question for you

Mark (apartment guy)

shoot

Me

Who is hj?

Jeno didn’t realize he had spent so much time chatting to him until his phone warned him he was running out of battery and the clock read midnight. Mark was really friendly, he seemed so eager to share everything and anything with Jeno that the conversation just flowed easily. 

For the first time in a while, he talked to someone without second guessing his every thought. It was as if Mark’s kindness couldn’t be contained in his own body so bled through his phone into Jeno’s.

Mark was an open book. He was a third-year Music Composition major, he was from Vancouver, one year older than Jeno, and he really liked dogs. He was living in a rented room across town and he was frantic to find somewhere either nicer or closer to campus, so Jeno was his jackpot.

He talked a lot about his life. The movies he watches in his free time, the library near the Music building that was always emptier than the others during finals, his family, his disastrous cooking skills, and obviously he talked about music.

Jeno enjoyed listening to music, and he liked to believe he wasn’t a bad dancer, but he had never seen anyone be so passionate about it like Mark was. English had to be his second language because his mother tongue was written on staff and clefs. He talked about music the same way Jeno’s mother had once described angels—it was his salvation.

He also told Jeno a lot about others: Yunho and his boyfriend were both friends with “hj” Hongjoong, another Music major who worked with Mark from time to time. They had been looking over samples for his personal project when Mark mentioned the awful leak on his ceiling and Hongjoong connected the dots for all of them.

Jeno thought he’d be more hurt by only learning about his roommate’s life through other people, when he’s about to move out, but all those anguishing what ifs slipped clean off his skull. Yunho leaving the apartment was a mountain shrinking into a molehill.

That night, and for the rest of that week, Jeno sleeps peacefully, and his room doesn’t seem as dark in the night anymore.

✭

Summer washes over Jeno in a wave. He doesn’t notice it yet, but now he understands those friends in sitcoms that spend their entire time together.

Mark’s first visit to the apartment had quickly turned into a long conversation about university and music and video games, which then turned into a heated Mario Kart competition, which then turned into a pizza night.

It was just so easy to be around him, Jeno didn’t think twice before telling him to sign the tenancy agreement and carving out the space in his life for Mark to crawl in. They had just met, but any passerby could look through their windows and think they’ve been best friends since the womb.

Looking back, he can’t believe he managed to spend nine months living with Yunho and not know a single thing about him, because he knows everything about Mark.

Neither of them could travel to visit their families over the season, so they had no other choice but to spend it together. Not like they didn’t want to, anyway.

Jeno soon discovered being friends with Mark was a buy-one-get-one-free package deal, as his friend Chenle preferred to spend more time at their apartment than his own. He and Mark had been inseparable ever since they met in high school and they loved each other to bits, even if Chenle would never use those words out loud.

Living with Mark was already nice, but having Chenle over all the time on top of that almost had Jeno turning into a social butterfly. The two of them were always asking him to come watch a new Spider-man movie, or play basketball in the public court, or try out a different overpriced bar downtown, or just spend time together. Jeno didn’t know what he did in his past life to deserve them; they were already attached by the hip and decided there was still room for him to join them.

It wasn’t perfect: Mark was far from well-organized and his head was so constantly full his memory was a mess of its own, Chenle was brutally, viciously, honest (except when it comes to himself) and he had the tendency of stealing all their food.

But, it was different, and he found himself more than eager to change along with it. His sleep was getting better and the fog in his mind had finally seemed to dissipate to let in the sun, and those were beautiful sunny days.

When he notices, it’s already September again and they’re ready to start a new year. Or, as ready as you can be when it comes to university. Summer had been really good at distracting Jeno from his other source of anxiety, studying, and all of his naive sophomore mistakes are starting to catch up on him.

This university has different degree requirements from his old one, which he should’ve checked last year, so now he has to squeeze the stupid English and Art History electives in the middle of his stupid Engineering course.

Jeno is stupid, his degree is stupid, everything is stupid when he has to run across campus just to catch his second class of the day on time. It’s not that he thinks these classes are useless, but God, why do I have to know about books and paintings just to get a BA-Sc?

Jeno is used to running, but his lungs still burn when he gets to the old English building. He has to admit, he’d never paid much attention to its older structure and flaky walls before today, much less stepped inside it. He regrets it now as he gets lost through the halls and doesn’t recognize a single face in the crowd to help him. 

His stomach starts folding in itself as if this is his first time getting lost on campus and he considers just skipping the class altogether. He just needed to keep his grades above 75% to keep his scholarship anyway, and if he managed to do that for fucking Calculus then he could do it for English Literature. Wait, did the syllabus say anything about attendance? Jesus, Jeno, why do you do this to yourself, just go back home. 

He’s taken out of his own head when a person behind him drops a low “Excuse me”, and he’s standing in front of the right room. His body catches up before his mind does, hand grabbing the door before it closes again and walking in. It’s fine. He just needs to sit down and breathe for a minute.

The whole room is already full of students, mostly freshmen, and they all go ridiculously silent as soon as Jeno walks in. Great. Just what he needed.

The professor begins introducing herself as his eyes scurry after an open seat, and he has to remind himself to not sprint when he finds it.

The guy beside him briefly side-eyes him when he sits down, making the knot in his stomach pull tighter, but Jeno takes a deep breath and reminds himself that not everyone is thinking about his every move as much as he is. The professor keeps talking but he can’t hear her over the buzz in his ears.

This is exactly like last term, you’re alone again and you definitely look like a loser (who even uses the word loser these days, Jeno? You’re not fourteen anymore). Is every term just gonna be like this? It was supposed to get better.

The rest of the lecture goes without a hitch, thankfully. Jeno feels calmer, less jumpy, but he still rushes to shove his laptop back in his backpack and leave. He’s halfway across the room when a hand grabs him by the shoulder and a voice calls for him.

“Wait, uhm, Lee Jeno?” The voice sounds a bit uncertain. Jeno turns around to see the guy that had been sitting beside him, the side-eye one, now holding a lanyard with Jeno’s student card and house keys. The boy’s face is the absolute definition of neutral, but his words have a sympathetic cadence to them. “These fell out of your bag.”

“Oh, thank you,” he says after a beat. He wants to grab the lanyard and go on his not-so-merry way, but it seems his mouth acts without contacting his brain. “How do you know my name?”

The guy lets out a small huff of a laugh, lips turning up slightly, and Jeno might as well dig a hole on the ground to crawl forever. 

“It’s in the card, isn’t it?” He answers while placing it in his hand.

Jeno is finally taking in the man in front of him, and he’s… well, he’s pretty. Really pretty. He had never considered another man pretty before; handsome, sure, but not pretty per se. This guy was undeniably pretty.

His pitch black hair is almost long enough to touch his shoulders, sliding down his nape, and it frames the soft features of his face gently. He’s wearing this loose button up blouse and long dress pants, with a tie that hangs around him like a low necklace and a big purse on his shoulder. It’s classy and artistic, like he just walked out of a magazine to grace Jeno with his presence.

He doesn’t know how much time has passed when he realizes he’s staring, but his guilt waters down when he returns to the man’s eyes and finds them scanning Jeno right back.

“I like your shirt, by the way,” the guy says, pointing at it with his chin.

Jeno looks down to remember he has a body and is wearing real clothes too. It’s just a t-shirt of this random “En-Cee-Tee” band he had thrifted, nothing special. When he looks up again, the guy is already walking past him out the door before he can thank him, leaving Jeno standing like a lamppost.

His ears feel warm with a sudden embarrassment, but the knot in his core has somehow loosened up. He didn’t even catch the man’s name because he was too busy burning his face into his retinas, gawking like a creep.

He walks back to the Engineering building to stop thinking about it, before his mind jumps ahead and starts creating scenarios in which the two had an actual conversation.

✭

The rest of Jeno’s week drags endlessly and he yearns for a whole weekend of doing nothing in his bed. He knows that, realistically, it won’t happen, given he still has to work on Saturday, and his Statistics professor was quick to begin the pile of coursework ahead of him, and he already knows Mark and Chenle will want to go to the beach before fall settles in. He yearns for the downtime anyway.

He can sense his body entering on autopilot as he walks towards his last class of the day; Jeno already had an opening shift this morning and he was not in the mood for an hour and a half of looking at paintings, or whatever people do in Art History. He doesn’t even have the energy to be nervous about it when he passes the threshold.

He arrives a bit early and slumps down in the closest chair he can find, immediately zoning out. Jeno feels, rather than sees, the room getting packed, but he doesn’t shake away from his daze until someone mumbles a polite Sorry as they bump behind him to grab a seat. He notices now the professor had arrived and is already introducing herself, so he hurriedly fishes his laptop from his bag.

He’s sitting at the very far end of the hall, and even with his glasses on he still has to squint to see the projected images and focus. He just needs to focus for a little while and soon enough he’ll be free for an entire evening.

Jeno imagines the warmth of his bed and the way his shoulders will become weightless once he lies down on it and how tonight he might be able to knock himself out the moment he closes his eyes.

It’s been twenty minutes when Jeno realizes he’s fantasizing about his own comforter and not paying any attention to the lecture. He blinks hard and tries to will the tiredness away, but not even the three cups of coffee he already had today can help him concentrate.

The professor talks in this slow, mellowing rhythm, about the subject Jeno wishes he could be interested in, and it only lulls him further inward. His eyes unfocus for what seems like a second, until he’s suddenly poked in the shoulder.

“Hi,” the guy sitting beside him says with a closed smile on his face. He’s fully turned in his chair to face Jeno, and when Jeno looks around he notices the other students talking quietly with the people near them as well. The guy continues talking as if Jeno had answered, “So, what do you think? Any fresh ideas for now?”

Jeno’s mind goes from blank to overflowing with thought in a second. Why is he talking to me? Did I say something and forgot already? Fuck, are we supposed to do something right now? He’s staring at me and his eyes are so big, what do I even say? Jeno must look incredibly stupid because the guy scrunches his eyebrows before speaking up again.

“You didn’t hear a single thing, did you?” His smile is toothy now, but somehow it conveys less friendliness than before.

On a good day, Jeno isn’t a fan of eye contact, so the man’s expecting eyes are impossible to correspond. He swallows hard before shaking his head shamefully and looking away.

Apparently, this pleases the other man, because he lets out a small laugh. “You don’t seem like the artist type anyway. We’re supposed to ‘discuss our initial thoughts on ancient and medieval art’ and hopefully pair up for the seminar,” he motions the air quotes with his hands as he explains.

“Seminar?” Jeno hopes he doesn’t sound as panicked as he feels, but the idea of working with a random guy in a project he is exceedingly insecure about makes his stomach tie in knots.

“God, you’re genuinely lost,” the guy mutters under his breath as he shifts closer to Jeno, falling back into his line of sight. “The midterm project, in pairs. It’s on the syllabus. I wanted to work with you because I don’t really know anyone here, but you have to wake up and know your shit because I’m not doing all the work alone,” his words are bordering on mean, but he keeps on smiling through them like they were chatting mindlessly. The man blinks a few times before adding, “I’m Jaemin, by the way.”

“Jeno,” he manages to say after a moment, concerned he would mess up his own name. 

Jaemin is intense, he intimidates him from the get go without doing anything in particular. His gaze turns Jeno’s ears warm and his lips make Jeno wish he could sink into his chair. Then, suddenly, Jaemin laughs again and lets out a deep sigh as he shakes his head.

“Do you know anything about medieval art? Or, really, anything of the Middle Ages?” He emphasizes his words like he’s desperate to squeeze out knowledge from Jeno’s brain. Jeno can’t pinpoint what, but something shifts in Jaemin’s eyes and he starts to look way more sympathetic. Perhaps he’s taking pity on Jeno.

He takes his chance to be honest and shakes his head again, so Jaemin continues talking, “Well, then tell me about you, Jeno.”

“Me? What about the, uhm… discussion…?”

“You’re in STEM, right? You look like you could be in STEM,” Jaemin says while pointing his finger up and down and accompanying it with his stare. Jeno swears his lips tug into an impossibly wider grin, before he rests his head on his hand and resumes his rant. “We got half an hour to brainstorm and decide our partners for the seminar, but since you clearly haven’t started your readings I want to know if working with you will be fun. You’re an interesting person, for now.”

Jeno? Interesting? He’s caught off guard by Jaemin’s words, they shake him awake and his ears grow hotter by the second. Why would anyone find him interesting? Especially after the first impression Jeno is causing, barely speaking and making a fool of himself.

What should he even say? That yes, he’s one of those stupid STEM majors that knows nothing about art and just wants an easy A to move on with his life? That he’s awful at reading the room and thinking straight (ha!) when other people stare at him? Subconsciously, Jeno starts nipping at the cracked skin of his lips, and he can already taste the bitter blood when he decides to say something.

Jaemin beats him to it, “It’s okay if you’re shy, I can start then,” his tone is playful now, unpredictably changing at every new sentence he utters. “But don’t think you can run from me like that, darling, I’ll start asking questions soon.”

The sudden casualness of the conversation gives Jeno whiplash, and the pet name makes his hands shake. Maybe Jaemin is the kind of person that calls everyone “darling”, like aunties or drag queens. There’s no need to overthink a single word. His ears become impossibly warmer anyway. It’s fine.

He doesn’t necessarily overshare all the details of his life, but Jaemin sure loves talking. He’s also a third-year, in Medieval Studies—Jeno feels bad for not knowing it existed, much less that their university offered it—and he makes sure to show Jeno every picture he has of his three cats.

He’s a photographer as a “silly hobby,” but he knows so much about composition and cameras that Jeno believes he’s just being humble. The more Jaemin rambles, the warmer his gestures get and it leaves Jeno at ease, enough to answer sincerely when Jaemin decides it’s time to bombard him with questions instead.

I knew it, you are the type of guy to be in Engineering. Are you from around the city? Ah, but you can’t just study all day, don’t you do anything for fun? What kind of music do you like? Are you into any sports? 

He swears he sees Jaemin glance at his arms at the last question, but it’s probably a trick of his mind. Jeno tries his best to keep up with his pace, but as the conversation goes on Jaemin doesn’t seem to mind his slower short replies.

It’s still difficult to match Jaemin’s intense eye contact, but Jeno figures it’s better to force himself into it than letting his eyes wander. And, oh, how they wander.

With the amount of hand movements and gesticulations Jaemin puts into his speech, it’s impossible to not look at his arms. He’s wearing this loose sleeveless shirt that accentuates his broad shoulders, and his biceps occasionally flex with the passion of his gestures.

It’s not an insane build, but the soft definition of his muscles is just enough to catch his attention and leave his mouth dry. So, Jeno opts to stare at his face, which somehow proves to be worse.

At the beginning of this week, Jeno thought he could never describe a man as pretty, but at this point he should eat his own words with how many pretty men he has been meeting.

Jaemin has a pretty face, sharp features balancing out with the delicate way he holds himself and dark bangs sitting perfectly on his eyebrows. Jeno is sure Jaemin notices the path of his eyes, with the way he never shies away from them, but his smile remains the same.

It’s starting to get a bit humiliating for Jeno. Has it really been that long since his last relationship that he turns red at any men giving him a drop of attention? He’s not a player, and his experiences are… limited, but it’s not like he’ll sway for just any pretty face, big smile, strong arms, and he looks pretty tall- Okay, Jeno, stop. Focus. Don’t freak out. You’re gonna freak him out.

By the end of the lecture, Jeno is almost proud of himself for not saying anything embarrassing and relaxing into the chat. He picks up his stuff and walks out of the room with Jaemin still by his side, listening as he tells Jeno about nuns in the 12th century. He stops close to the main entrance of the building and turns to face Jeno directly again.

“I’m waiting for my friend here, but it was nice to meet you,” Jaemin says, looking around them for a moment before placing a hand on Jeno’s shoulder. “Can I have your number?”

“Hm? My number?” Jeno panics for a second, eyebrows shooting up, but his stomach jumps instead of the regular knots it ties itself into. At this point, Jeno can tell Jaemin is very perceptive (or maybe he’s just too obvious), because he laughs before answering.

“Yeah, for the seminar. Unless you don’t really want to work with me,” he pauses with an overtly dramatic sigh. His hand drops from Jeno’s shoulder to run through his own hair, and Jeno swallows down the urge to pull it back. “Damn, just when I thought we were getting along now.”

“No, no- I mean, yes, we can work together,” Jeno stutters through his words, but he’s not about to miss this opportunity because of his dumb anxieties.

He rushes his phone out of his pocket and hands it to Jaemin to type his own number instead. Jaemin's smile grows devilish before he bites his bottom lip, taking a bit longer to put in the numbers and give the phone back.

Jeno glances quickly to see his contact saved as “nana ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡” and his cheeks flush red at the sight of the kaomoji. Why is he acting so cute??? He’s about to say his goodbyes when a third voice suddenly approaches them.

“Jaemin!”

He whips his head fast at the sound of his own name and answers loudly, “Babe! Finally, I was starting to wonder where you were.”

Babe?! Jeno’s eyes could jump out of the sockets at the pet name, but nothing could prepare him to see the person receiving it.

Now standing beside Jaemin, snaking an arm over his shoulders, is Pretty Guy Number 1, the guy from Jeno’s Lit class. The one who complimented his shirt and made him replay the interaction in his mind the rest of the day. Jeno could physically feel his stomach dropping to his ass in an instant.

Oh God, they’re dating each other.

“You have to stop calling me babe, or people are gonna think we’re actually dating,” the guy adds, as if he could read Jeno’s mind, although the way Jaemin loosely holds his waist implies otherwise. “Plus, I’m like, 5 minutes late, stop being dramatic,” he pauses to groan and crane his neck away from Jaemin, who’s now making exaggerated kissy faces, “Ah, hi Jeno.”

Fuck, he remembers my name. It took Jeno two days to get over his mortification of not even asking for the guy’s name, and he had only done so because he was sure he would never see him again. It’s fine. He just has to say something to end the conversation right then and there, and run away immediately after.

“Hey, I didn’t know you two knew each other,” the words escape Jeno’s mouth before he can process them.

“We’re roommates,” the guy answers, staring heavily into him. Even if his eyebrows are only slightly scrunched, his face looks almost angry when compared to Jaemin’s unnerving smile.

Jeno nods in understanding, swallowing hard and pretending his head wasn’t reeling with the information. They live together, they’re touchy, and Jaemin called him babe. Jaemin takes this opportunity to butt in.

“Jeno’s gonna be my partner for Art His,” he glances expectantly at Jeno, who can only keep nodding his head. “How do you know him?”

“He’s the one that sat beside me in Lit, with that shirt of your cousin’s band,” the guy explains, looking at Jaemin like Jeno had suddenly disappeared. Jeno always overthinks his interactions, but seeing the way the two of them act around each other truly makes him feel like an intruder. “I guess it’s a funny coincidence.”

Side by side, one seems to strangely contrast and complement the other: Jaemin’s build makes the guy look gaunt and small, but his fancy clothes beside Jaemin’s plain shirt and sweatpants look more delicate and carefully thought out.

On the other hand, Jaemin beams at Jeno like they’ve been friends for years, while the guy might as well be trying to stab him with his eyes.

“Darling, we have to go now,” Jaemin tells the guy after scanning his phone for a second.

The hand he kept at the guy’s waist squeezes lightly, and his face truly softens for the first time since he arrived. Jaemin leans into the guy’s ear to whisper something Jeno can’t catch, but whatever he says makes the guy blink a few times before turning back to Jeno.

“Wait, I’m sorry, I don’t think I ever told you who I am,” he rushes the words out, his face close to something apologetic for his manners. “My name is Renjun. I hope I see you around,” he punctuates the last part with the same small smile he gave Jeno when they first met, and it’s enough to flush Jeno’s cheeks.

Why am I so easy?? It’s barely a smile at all, control yourself.

Jaemin steers them aside to walk away, but he still turns back to wave at Jeno. “Bye bye, darling. Text me when you get those readings up to date!”

He waves back weakly, and just like that, they’re gone. Jeno lets out a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding, whipping his head around so he can think about his surroundings instead of two men he just met.

Jeno’s heart races with the adrenaline of a deer being hunted for sport. He really needs to learn how to talk to people. But at least he just made… friends? Well, definitely friendly classmates he will see again.

Jeno will see them again. The thought has him giddy, smiling to himself as he finally starts walking to his bus stop. Why are you smiling stupid like this? It’s just two guys you DON’T know, you have to chill out.

Jeno had been lonely for so long, it’s normal to feel happy at the prospect of having friends. Mark and Chenle made him happy too, in a way. Renjun and Jaemin were nice to him, it’s normal to be glad others are nice to you.

It’s definitely normal to think others are pretty, it’s just an objective physical observation. It’s not like Jeno lives in a rom-com with unexpected meet cutes and kissing in the rain.

He’s just making friends, like any normal guy would. It’s fine. Life is still going on, the world keeps spinning in its axis, and Jeno will have an uneventful, academically stressful year.

Right?