Chapter Text
Haechan sprawled across Jeno’s bed, one arm thrown over his eyes as Jeno’s fingers moved lazily through his hair. Neither of them had spoken for a while, content to let the quiet stretch between them. There was no real rush to fill it, not when the weight of yesterday still clung to them like smoke, lingering at the edges of their thoughts.
Jeno had half a mind to drift off like this—warm, comfortable, the steady rise and fall of Haechan’s breathing grounding him—but then Haechan sighed, deep and drawn out, and nudged Jeno's leg with his elbow.
“You heard from Jaemin?”
Jeno blinked, fingers pausing before they resumed their slow, steady movement. “No. Renjun talked to you?”
Haechan exhaled sharply through his nose. “Nope.”
That was probably answer enough.
Jeno didn’t press, just hummed in acknowledgment, but Haechan was already shifting against him, restlessness bleeding into his limbs. He rolled onto his side, gaze flicking up to meet Jeno’s for a second before he groaned and threw himself back onto the mattress.
“Babe… we really shouldn’t have left them alone yesterday.”
Jeno’s fingers stilled completely this time, his hand coming to rest against Haechan’s temple. He thought about it for a second, then exhaled. “Yeah, but… the tension though.”
Haechan let out a muffled sound of frustration, dragging both hands down his face. “Exactly. It was unbearable. They were, like, one deep breath away from catastrophe.”
Jeno huffed a quiet laugh, not because it was funny, but because it was true. Yesterday had been—God, it had been a lot. The looks, the awkward silences, the way both Renjun and Jaemin had been on edge, like something was about to snap. It had been painful to witness, honestly.
And now? Now, they had no idea what had happened after they left.
Jeno rubbed a hand over his face, sighing. “Well, it’s almost New Year’s, and we have a plan.”
Haechan dropped his hands just enough to squint at him. “Had a plan. Past tense. Because I don’t know about you, but if they’re still being weird, I’m not spending my night lighting up the sky for their unresolved bullshit.”
Jeno turned that over in his head, lips pressing together. “We don’t know if they’re still being weird.”
Haechan snorted. “And what are the odds that they woke up this morning and just—what? Sorted out years of unspoken tension overnight?”
Jeno hesitated. “…Slim?”
“Exactly.”
A long pause stretched between them.
Jeno clicked his tongue. “So… what, we ditch the fireworks?”
Haechan made a frustrated noise, fingers curling into the sheets. “I want to say yes, but…”
Jeno hummed, leaning down until their foreheads touched. Haechan exhaled, shoulders sinking just slightly as he let Jeno settle against him.
That was when the door swung open.
Jaemin strolled in like he owned the place, eyes flicking to them before he groaned dramatically, tossing his head back like he was being personally inconvenienced. “Ugh. So indecent.”
Jeno didn’t even look up. “Why are you in my room?”
Jaemin ignored him entirely. “None of you are downstairs, and I’m hungry. Let’s go.” He clapped his hands together like that settled it, then turned on his heel and walked right back out.
Jeno and Haechan exchanged a look.
Jaemin looked… normal.
Or, at least, he was acting normal.
Which was suspicious.
Jeno frowned, sitting up properly. “He’s acting way too normal.”
Haechan sat up too, slower, eyes narrowed toward the door. “I don’t like it.”
“Right?”
They sat there for another beat, silent.
Jeno chewed on his lip. “Should we go?”
Haechan groaned, dragging a hand through his hair. “I mean… if we don’t, that’s weird.”
Jeno nodded. “And if he’s acting normal, Renjun probably is too.”
Haechan made a face. “Or one of them’s being normal and the other’s being weird.”
“…Shit.”
They both groaned, because, really, there was no winning here.
Still, they swung their legs over the side of the bed and made their way toward the door, because whatever was waiting for them at breakfast, they were about to find out.
***
They took their sweet time making their way to the Great Hall, half-expecting some kind of disaster to greet them when they arrived.
The usual morning buzz filled the air, students gathered in their usual clusters, hunched over plates of food and half-hearted conversations. Nothing seemed out of place—except for the fact that Renjun was sitting directly across from Jaemin.
Chenle, who had been watching them from his spot at the table, patted the seat next to him, giving them a look that said What the hell is happening?
Good question.
Jeno and Haechan exchanged one last glance before cautiously making their way over, sliding into their seats beside Chenle and Jisung.
Before they could even say a word, Jaemin spoke. “We were just talking about the fireworks.”
Jeno blinked. Haechan froze mid-motion, halfway to reaching for a piece of toast.
He slowly leaned back, folding his arms. “Oh? Were we, now?”
Jaemin looked up, eyes mildly amused. “Yeah.”
“We as in you and Renjun?”
Jaemin lifted a brow. “Yes?”
Jeno turned to Renjun, waiting for something—an eye twitch, a scoff, a single sign that Renjun found this just as bizarre as they did—but Renjun simply nodded, like this was the most natural thing in the world.
Haechan gawked. “Are we just gonna ignore the fact that this is completely out of character for both of you?”
Renjun, unimpressed, flicked a crumb off his sleeve. “What are you on about?”
Jeno’s eyes darted between them, still waiting for the moment when one of them cracked, when Renjun would sigh and roll his eyes or Jaemin would smirk and say something infuriating. But nothing. Just two people who were, by all appearances, fine.
Jaemin picked up his cup of tea, taking a slow sip. “So? Fireworks?”
Haechan, still in the middle of processing, turned to Chenle. “Do you think they got possessed?”
Chenle nodded solemnly. “I wouldn’t rule it out.”
Renjun groaned, “I can still hex you, you know.”
Haechan exhaled, relieved. “There he is.”
***
The easy part was sitting down for breakfast. The hard part was pretending like everything was normal.
Which—fine. Jaemin could do normal. He could sit across from Renjun, sip his pumpkin juice, and act like the events of the last twenty-four hours weren’t still burning under his skin. Could pretend like Renjun’s mouth hadn’t been on his just hours ago, that his hands hadn’t been gripping Jaemin’s collar, that Jaemin hadn’t practically melted under him. He could pretend, because he was Jaemin, and Jaemin was good at playing it cool.
The problem was Renjun. Renjun was the problem. Because even as they settled into familiar rhythms, even as their conversations eased back into something comfortable, Renjun kept looking at him. Not in any obvious way—just quick glances, the occasional flicker of amusement, the slight quirk of his mouth whenever Jaemin teased him. It was nothing. It was everything.
“Did you actually study for the Charms test?” Renjun asked, tearing into a croissant.
Jaemin scoffed, reaching for the jam. “I never study, and I do just fine.”
Renjun hummed, unimpressed. “Yeah, yeah, you coast through on pure luck. But one of these days, it’s gonna run out.”
Jaemin smirked as he spread a generous layer of jam onto his toast. “If you’re so concerned, you could tutor me.”
Renjun snorted, sipping his tea. “You’d spend the whole time being annoying.”
Jaemin gasped, hand over his heart. “Me? Annoying? Renjun, I am delightful.”
Renjun rolled his eyes, but Jaemin caught the way the corners of his mouth twitched. “You’re something, alright.”
Jaemin leaned forward slightly, eyes glinting. “You talk a lot for someone who’s in love with me.”
Silence.
Jeno and Haechan exchanged a confused glance. Jisung, in the middle of cutting up his sausage, froze. Chenle, halfway through a sip of pumpkin juice, inhaled sharply.
Renjun, without missing a beat, tilted his head, unimpressed. “You wish.”
Jaemin just shrugged. Shrugged. As if this conversation wasn’t sending shockwaves through their friend group. As if he’d already won.
"You know," he said, resting his chin on his palm, eyes never leaving Renjun’s, "kiss me if I'm right."
That was when Chenle choked.
"Oh my GOD—"
Jisung slapped him on the back, wide-eyed. Haechan’s mouth fell open. Jeno simply stared, toast frozen halfway to his mouth.
Renjun, looking entirely unbothered, exhaled sharply through his nose—something between a scoff and a laugh. Then, with all the composure in the world, he set down his tea, pushed his plate aside, and reached across the table.
And before anyone could fully register what was happening, he grabbed Jaemin by the collar and kissed him.
The entire Great Hall went dead silent.
For exactly three seconds.
Then—
"WHAT—"
"OH MY—"
"WHAT THE HELL?!"
Somewhere to the left, Jisung fell off the bench. Jeno coughed violently, smacking his chest like he was trying to restart his lungs. Haechan and Chenle both screamed, Chenle’s hands flailing so wildly he nearly knocked over a goblet of orange juice.
Jaemin? Jaemin just grinned into the kiss, utterly smug, completely insufferable.
When Renjun pulled away, he was the picture of nonchalance. He wiped his mouth, adjusted his collar, and sat back as if nothing had happened.
Then, calmly, like this wasn’t the most earth-shattering moment of their friend group’s collective lives, he said, “What? I can’t kiss my boyfriend now?”
Silence.
Then—
"YOUR WHAT NOW?!"