Chapter Text
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The letter arrived on a dreary and cold morning, addressed to a Mr. Renjun Huang, and stamped in a blood red ink that devolved into smeared curlicues no doubt at the hand of his youngest brother. Running a hand along the thick parchment left a rasping sound Renjun had seldom heard, letters addressed to the boy scarce less they be sent by a Mr. Dejun Xiao (whose papers at home were of a softer sort), and he was quick to tear the tough material open.
There, in the soft swirls but rigid perfection of his eldest brother’s calligraphy, sat a note from home.
Dearest Renjun,
I write to you, not out of an obligation to keep informed, but in a selfish desire to spill my earnest thoughts unto your own. Chenle accompanies myself as well (I do believe he’s under the impression I’ve stolen from him a lover).
You’re greatly missed at home; the Peneltens had not been informed of your leaving and stopped by with an intention of bringing you into town. Young Elizabeth had been heedlessly begging for the company, though I do believe it was truly Mrs. Penelten’s want for your ear (you entertain her gossip far too much), and it was quite disastrous an explanation to uphold. For a young child to have so much vigor in her tears, I fear she must be related to Chenle.
There was a splatter of ink beside his sibling’s name and Renjun giggled with the thought of his brother receiving a shove at the poke,
Alas, I cannot leave my thoughts for another moment. Dearest Renjun, a man has arrived in Wiltshire and further arrived into my acquaintance. I fear I have want of the most selfish of relations and the most pure of loves when I am beside him. And I fear, perhaps a better word is I hope, though I cannot imagine it just for me to feel so much for him and so little for others, my wants may be returned.
He is wealthy, that much may be assured and may put your mind at ease if you fear my living in comfort, but I find more so that that wealth devolves into all other things. He is kind (so much so that he has stolen Chenle’s heart with my own), and he is of the forgiving sort. And, Renjun, if we were to measure our men in dance, I do believe he’d surpass your own self.
I did not wish to steal your mind with thoughts of my own love and worries of my own health – I wish much more so to inquire after yours – but my heart is steeled against modesty and secrecy in regard to the emotions I feel toward this man. I am adrift in a swirl of emotions and bliss, and I wish solely for the accompaniment of my brother’s support.
I wish you well, and I long to see you.
Kun.
Renjun set aside the letter with a shuddering breath. His stomach seemed to curl with a painful sickness as his shoulders slumped forward and he brought the letter closer to his eyes. The words that sprawled across the crisp sheet were undoubtedly his brother’s, curled with an intricate attention to beauty, but he noticed then that the letters seemed to wobble and trail awkwardly at the end, as though written with an unsteady hand of nerves and blissful joy.
He had missed far too much and missed far too little.
Renjun had spent the majority of his days away from the homesickness that should’ve overtaken him and swept up instead in the whirlwind that was Donghyuck’s thoughts and Donghyuck’s gossip. And maybe a little too much musing on the potential complexities that would be Mr. Lee’s thoughts and Mr. Lee’s opinions (it seemed gossip may be far off his spectrum of conversation). And he’d spent the majority of his nights working to forget the pain and shadows that swirled within the loneliness of his heart and mind.
And now, as Renjun read of his brother’s emotions, he realized the selfishness, not on the part of Kun, but instead his own self. He was away from home on the pure goodness of his family, and he had spent little time to worry or wait on his family’s well being.
Heaving a sigh, Renjun snatched the blank sheet of paper from the stack that lay nestled into the corner of the desk and lifted a wrist to sprawl across it, guilt ebbing his messy letters into pure scribbles of haphazard niceties and best wishes.
Renjun was a loving sibling, he knew that to be true, but the anxiety of distance and detachment – the anxiety of growing up and away – seemed to sprawl across the backs of his eyelids and in front of his vision like a mark made from the sun when stared at for a moment too long, and Renjun blinked rapidly in an effort to push it away. His eyes stung.
He would not abandon his siblings with the simple opportunities bestowed upon him of travel. He would not neglect his duty to entertain ramblings and support hopes simply because he happened to come into the acquaintance of a few more people (who were far less entertaining than his dearest brother’s). Renjun’s duty was to his family; it was to no man or woman, to no Donghyuck or Mr. Lee, and it was to no duty of learning propriety or gaining in marriage.
Renjun would not be selfish and he would not forget his home.
He addressed the letter and stood.
Walking along the street unaccompanied wasn’t a frightful thing per se, though dodging fast moving men and women did send a small quiver of nervous excitement shaking his fingers, it was simply more lonesome. The cobblestones shone with the wet of the afternoon, and the toes of Renjun’s shoes were soaked through from the splash of puddles that they’d begun to chafe as he scurried beside the streets, and it made the walk all the more excruciatingly long.
Normally, Renjun would be accompanied by a verbose boy with an exuberant laugh and bright smile (add in a little flirtatiousness into the mix with the occasional, albeit purposeful, crossing paths of two Mr. Lees and you just may have a carbon copy) that would transform the dull cobblestones of a rainy day in Bath into something no lesser than the sunniest days of the countryside.
Now, Renjun felt regret in comparing Donghyuck’s likeness with anything similar to home; they were far too different, and home far too special by its lonesome.
Though, as the blonde continued to stumble in a far off mindset, his expression adrift in the wonders of what was an acceptable amount of comfort in strange lands, and what would be taken as vain disdain toward home shown through a lack of remorse at leaving, Renjun found he couldn’t simply dismiss Donghyuck as nothing that reminded him of home (here Renjun chuckled at the thought of labeling the sunshine boy as ‘home-ly’). Donghyuck was the best things about Renjun’s home – he was Chenle’s whining tone, Yangyang’s teasing, and Kun’s altruism (even if he remained quite a bit of a gossip, Renjun acknowledged he’d taken him under his wing) – but what remained was that: Donghyuck was himself, and his home was that.
Renjun wondered whether the acceptance of that – the distinct difference between his family and newfound friend – truly had anything the matter. He wondered whether it was fair to blame constant distraction on a lack of homesickness, or if he had simply begun to accept his separation from his sibling. And he wondered if there was anything to be ashamed of in that (the pang in his gut sure made it seem so).
The spaces in the stones below his feet, dips that if he dug his toe into would send a jolt through him as he hurriedly steadied once more on his feet, were filled with small allotments of water that reflected the sky until he appeared to be walking on the dreary gray clouds. If Renjun hung his head low, his neck craned to peer toward the toes of his shoes that moved swiftly beneath his skirts, he found he could let his mind wander to the idea that he slid over the skies, similar to a cherub.
A pair of shined, black shoes appeared on the sea of clouds before him – a god-like figure and an angel twisted in the rippling cobblestone puddles until hands seemed to touch and bodies melded into one.
Renjun’s eyes shot up.
“Oh.”
It wasn’t the first time Renjun had nearly collided with a Mr. Lee, he had a feeling that the collision was constant, but still his heart released a harsh pound and he teetered slightly.
“Mr. Huang.” Had he ever heard him speak before? He supposed not as the words – nay, his name, spoken so breathlessly and soft that even his swallow seemed too loud in the face of his greeting – sent a soft tremble to his hands and he curled them into fists. His voice was low and gentle and Renjun ignored the strange tick it placed in his heartbeat. Jeno had bowed his head slightly in greeting and Renjun glanced to where a small few strands of hair fell over his forehead. His hands itched.
“Mr. Lee, it is not the most pleasant day, but made much pleasanter by my encountering you.” Renjun watched a soft pink spread over the tips of the gentleman’s ears and he furrowed his brows slightly, blinking his eyes to disperse the illusion. It wasn’t unlike him to force his eyes into tricks with his imagination – though it was unlike him to want such an illusion as a blush drawn from his words.
“Where do you walk, on your lonesome?”
Renjun sent a small smile toward his nicety and nodded his head in the direction just behind him, “I have come to post a letter, and then I will be on my way to wait on Mr. Lee.”
“Mr. Minhyung Lee?”
“No, a Mr. Donghyuck Lee.”
“I suppose it was unreasonable to ask after a Mr. Jeno Lee?” Renjun cracked a smile as said Mr. Lee tilted his head alongside the quirk of his eyebrow.
“Shall you like it if I wait on a Mr. Jeno Lee?”
“Well, I shan’t say so to you personally whether I like it, though I imagine Mr. Lee may.” Renjun’s mouth cracked open with a laugh and he lifted his fingertips to cover his grin.
“And which Mr. Lee is that?”
“How should I have come to know?”
Renjun shook his head to himself, finding the man’s sudden talkative nature to be rather shocking in regard to the cold quiet he had held consistently in encounters past. Still, Jeno had not tilted his lips in a smile – neither from courtesy or joy. He straightened himself once more and regarded Renjun.
“I have just come from there – shall I accompany you to see to a returning letter?”
“Is it not too soon to have arrived?”
“If it is too soon then I shall see to your safe arrival at the Lees and return for it then.”
“And if your response has still not then arrived?”
“I shall weep. Will you have me?”
Renjun smiled softly and lifted a brow as he stepped forward. A peculiar man he seemed – to be able to uphold two facades of seemingly opposite dispositions. Still, the soft rasp of his voice had remained quiet, and the stoic resolve of his face had remained familiar.
The two resolved into a soft silence, accompanied only by the soft whirs of carriage wheels and the clack of hooves over cobblestone. Renjun felt each intake of breath from Jeno’s was like the twinkling of music in a chaotic silence, and he listened to the rhythmic breathing as his mind floated adrift and whirled far above their heads.
He pondered the disappearance of guilt from his gut.
“Mr. Lee?”
“Mn.”
“Are you often far from home?”
“En.” The contemplative and still quiet that had previously surrounded the man and enraptured Renjun’s curiosity had returned.
“Indeed,” Renjun wondered over the silence as Jeno didn’t elaborate. Skirts kissed across wool trousers and upper arms hugged together. Should he press closer? His cheeks colored will the impure thought and he pulled his arms closer to his chest, his hands itching with the phantom burn of a man’s coat jacket clenched within. “And are you positively happy?” his voice wavered only slightly.
“Do I find myself positively happy in being away from home?”
Renjun shrank into himself. “I suppose it may be an ill-mannered inquiry?”
“Indeed, it is not,” his voice was quiet under the ruckus of passers-by, “I simply wish to understand you correctly.”
“Then, yes. Does your being away evoke a manner of good or ill?”
“In truth, I find it neither.” Still, he provided no expansion on the simple statement.
“And is it unjust to impose on you an inquiry as to why?”
“It is not unjust. I do not wish to abandon home often, but I quite enjoy traveling.”
Renjun hesitated, his eyes trained once more on the puddles that reflected clouds and refractions of a heavenly sort of light – pure white and glinting with each small shift. “It is most natural to you to feel homesick?”
“Not particularly. It is most natural to me to look unto my return with joy, and look unto my travels with joy. I do not ponder the regret of being away, only hope for a timely return.” Jeno’s eyes were trained straight ahead when Renjun peered up from below his lashes. His hands were clasped into a knot behind his back and he walked a rigid posture. Renjun’s cheeks colored and he glanced away. Hadn’t this gentleman nearly caused him to topple over – what was this sudden coyness in his chest?
“Indeed, it seems a most particular way of viewing it – one that must create the most lively of joys.”
“How do you suppose so?” Renjun kept his eyes to the puddles as Jeno turned his chin toward him in inquiry.
“There is only bliss in returning and bliss in departing.”
“There is only bliss.”
“Quite. It seems a wonderful way of life.”
“Do you feel no bliss in your stays here, Mr. Huang?”
Renjun grew quiet for a moment too long. He shot a grin toward Jeno’s curious gaze and the taller’s expression turned aloof. (Were those pink ears though? They really did seem quite too vibrant to be of imagination.) “There is bliss; I’d declare myself mad did I not find these walks to fulfill a feeling of bliss.”
“Can one be earnest with sole bliss, Mr. Huang?”
“Is there much need in being earnest?”
“I wonder.”
Renjun slanted an eye toward Mr. Lee, his head downturned and a curtain of bangs shielding his vision in a haze of blonde. “Mr. Lee, do you never feel guilt in missing time from home?”
“One cannot live a life of pure bliss – and guilt is just important an emotion as such. Though, I dare say, Mr. Huang: Is there any shame in the learning of new experiences?”
The pair’s arrival at Donghyuck’s drawing room was an uneventful happening (no, a return letter addressed to a Mr. Jeno Lee had not arrived in the 30 minutes since its initial sending) and Renjun shook the skirts of his dress loose from where it’d grown bunched with foot travel.
The cushion below him was soft, and he took the opportunity to lean back shamelessly, his head tilted against the seat edge as a sigh bloomed from his lips. It was probably better his ignorance to Jeno’s slanted stare for embarrassment did not consume him for the act of unhidden impropriety. It had been weeks since Renjun had sat at ease without the hungry gazes of Donghyuck and Doyoung.
Mr. Lee didn't seem one to comment (maybe, on anything).
The door to the drawing room swung wide just as Renjun had released an exhale of relief from his reclined form, the pressure releasing from the slope of his spine as he sat. He bolted upright and stared to the heaving figure that grasped the doorframe.
Donghyuck’s form was spread wide; his arms clasping each side of the empty doorway, his legs parted to fill each gap at the bottom (so much so that Renjun was quite sure his slim form could crawl through – which he would not be doing). His hair was disheveled from the usual smoothly laid bangs he’d grown used to seeing and his chest heaved as though he’d just sprinted away from a danger of sorts.
“Mr. Lee. Please do collect Mr. Na from my courtyard.”
Perhaps it was a danger?
Mr. Lee tilted his head in question.
“He’s courting my brother and I simply mustn’t stay quiet.”
“Donghyuck, why mustn’t you stay so?” Renjun lifted onto his feet and took a soft step forward, his arm outstretched as though placating a wild animal. (His frazzled appearance did have an impeccable similarity to a cub). Renjun stifled a snort.
“He’s courting my brother!” It was a shrill question.
“I simply cannot see the fault in his doing so?”
“It was my most honorable intention to be married before my brother of sixteen.” (Most honorable? Honorable indeed, to display such improper woe to a gentleman over the happiness of your dearest brother’s future.) Renjun cocked an eyebrow. “By my word, how I had wished it to be a Mr. Minhyung Lee to wait on my home – alas, it is instead a friend and a Mr. Jeno Lee.”
“Pray, Donghyuck, do not exhibit your dismay as such. You offend a gentleman.”
“I do not take offence.”
“Upon my word, Mr. Lee,” Donghyuck started, lifting a hand to his chest, “I do believe these the first words you have spoken in my presence. Pray tell of your acquaintance Mr. Lee as I now know your tongue remains not muddled.”
“Mr. Lee,” Renjun warned, this pointed to a Mr. Donghyuck Lee (the conversation really was getting too confusing a matter), “I pray you mind yourself. To call a gentleman a mute – it is truly shameful.”
“Renjun, do you come to lecture me on propriety? When you have come to Bath for the sole reason of learning it?”
Renjun’s chest stung and he flinched from Donghyuck’s words. It was a different sense of pain from that which he’d felt with his palms clutched over crisp parchment just hours earlier. It was a sense of pain that had not stemmed from love and longing – but from offence and hurt. It curled in his chest like a rattlesnake coiling over his heart and into his throat, its rattle shaking at the base of his throat. He no longer felt like an angel on clouds. He needed to cough.
Renjun reminded himself of why he had come to wait on the Lees in the first place. He wished to return home – to see his brothers and to settle for less than Bath had to offer – if only for the sole reason of remaining connected to his family, if only to see three boys he loved more dearly than any other.
He would not abandon them – especially after all that had happened then.
Renjun straightened his spine and tilted his chin upward, inhaling through his nose with a soft flare of his nostrils as a hesitant anger untangled the snake over his heart and licked a flame into his gut. His stomach burned with the memory of the past.
“Indeed, I suppose that much is true. I have come from the country in pursuit of your city values and I have found I do not wish for much more of it. Thank you, Mr. Lee – Mr. Lee,” Renjun bowed twice to the two men in the room, “I will be on my way then. Do stop your brother if it plagues you so – of course, unless my country values are much too unlearned and improper to advise you of such.”
Renjun stepped from the room, squeezing past Donghyuck’s frozen form in the doorway and stepping through the hall. He followed behind a servant whose head remained downturned and locked his hand together into a tight fist behind his back. His stuttering steps rang loud through the house in their unorderly and hasty rhythm, before he found himself at the door of the manor. His skirts caught below his foot as he stepped from the doorway and he slid to the floor in a graceless trip.
“Mr. Huang.”
Renjun hissed. His knee was skinned.
“Are you alright?”
It was a low voice beside his ear and Renjun turned, his breath stuttering as he found the smooth pale of Jeno’s cheek just a minute gap from his nose – from his lips. He shuddered.
“I am sorry, Mr. Huang,” Jeno’s voice remained curt and monotone, but the gentle brush of his fingertips over the dress’ tear and his bloodied knee punctuated the softness in his words. Renjun flinched away from the unhidden touch.
“An apology is unneeded from you.”
“Allow me to accompany you back. It is I who helped you here and I cannot allow you to walk far with injury.”
‘It is a flesh wound’ Renjun wanted to say, ‘it only needs a small intent of care.’ He didn’t. His words were stuck in his throat and he simply nodded dully, pulling himself up limply until he stood on a throbbing knee and an unaffected one. Mr. Lee didn’t offer an arm, simply stood beside him and kept his pace as they walked on. It was only once the pair had reached the miniscule walkway to his uncles’ house that Jeno spoke up.
“If you wish to leave, Mr. Huang, I shan’t be the one to stop you from your wishes. If you wish to forget me, I shan’t be one to beg. But, Mr. Huang, do allow me to accompany you another day before then.”
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