Work Text:
Renjun is swamped.
It’s two weeks until term break, but until then, there are about a hundred things on his to-do list; there are two three-page long essays on historical art pieces due Saturday night, one three-foot oil painting due Sunday afternoon, two chapters of Materials and Processes he still hasn’t gotten through, and three hours in the open studio he has yet to fulfil. The apartment has virtually no food in there since Donghyuck’s been camping out in Minhyung and Yukhei’s place instead (taking his cooking skills along with him) and Jaemin’s been pretty satisfied living off of milk bread. He has club duties for that language seminar he was going to attend and that new team of exchange students he was going to take around campus and the city over the next couple of days.
Basically, he’s busy.
Now is not the time for his birthday.
He knows nothing is planned. It’s been made very clear to Donghyuck and Jaemin that he did not want an elaborate surprise party and, no, him saying it didn’t mean that he secretly wanted one. There’s no time nor are there resources for them to invite everyone over, even for just a meal, and Renjun can say that he’s thankful Donghyuck and Jaemin had backed off on making his eighteenth birthday a big event.
Jeno, on the other hand, hadn’t been so easy to quell.
“Get him! I said get him!”
“Did you not hear me – I said I am trying!”
He tries not to groan from where he’s working by the tiny desk.
Living in a dorm with his high school friends is a dream come true enough. They all live together fine, no one’s really that messy. Donghyuck cooks whenever he’s not over at Minhyung’s, and Jaemin, Jeno and Renjun take turns on the apartment cleaning roster, laundry, general areas, and bathroom duty.
Though, it’s times like these Renjun misses his room back home. Where there was enough space for him to sprawl out canvases and palettes and paint tubes and colour sheets, just to get his creativity working. The others have never minded when he took up the living area on the weekends just painting and painting and painting, but it’s a little hard to concentrate sometimes when the lot of them are really getting into it over Mario Kart, forcing Renjun to huddle up in his tiny room, trying to seek peace and quiet.
“I thought that red mushroom was going to get him!”
“It’s a turtle!”
With Yukhei and Minhyung over, the Saturday night Renjun’d planned to work on one of his essays has gone down the drain.
Yukhei’d saved over the last couple of months for a Nintendo Switch, and, really, it’s all everyone’s been playing since then. There are four controllers (two extras were bought and are all colour coded), and Yukhei’d figured how to hook the console up to Donghyuck’s portable projector, which meant that the screen played nearly sixty inches across one of the empty white walls.
Chaos, practically.
“Hey.”
Renjun’d expected to see Jeno hovering by his room door, but with the race against time to save Princess Peach still going on, he should’ve known better.
“Not going to join us?” Donghyuck asks, leaning against the doorframe.
“Not tonight,” Renjun sighs. Yukhei shrieks at the top of his lungs when Jaemin throws a banana peel under his kart, and Renjun feels a tension headache coming along. “It’s this essay due next week.”
“Art History?”
Renjun nods, “Who did you do yours on?”
Being in the same major and study path as Donghyuck is very, very advantageous. He’s never one to hold back on offering help, as does Renjun. He can’t count how many times Donghyuck’s saved him from missing midnight deadlines, or how Renjun’s helped Donghyuck out when he’s interpreted an assignment wrongly. They work together, and any sort of competition between them is good, healthy competition.
“‘The School of Athens’, Raphael.” Donghyuck plays with the hem of his shirt, “And one of Auguste Rodin.”
Renjun sighs. He hadn’t even gotten about to picking an artist, forget the painting.
“You should come hang out with us, Jun,” Donghyuck says. “You’ve been cooped up in your room since morning, you’ve got to eat something.”
“I know, I know,” Renjun appreciates it wholeheartedly. But, “I just have so much to do, and I’m busy next week too, with that student group I’m bringing around and that seminar.”
Donghyuck folds his arms across his chest, “Are you speaking this week?”
Renjun shakes his head, “Week after.”
“That’s good,” Donghyuck nods. “At least join us for dinner? Jungwoo’s bringing that pasta Yukhei’s been raving over, and we just put in an order for eighteen pieces of fried chicken, so…”
“Yeah,” Renjun tries not to let the amount of work due get to him. “Yeah, I’ll be out in a second.”
With a smile, Donghyuck leaves, but the door isn’t shut for more than a minute, because Jeno is here instead, peeking cautiously into the room.
“Hey.”
Renjun swallows the annoyance threatening to overthrow his brain. He just needed to get some work done.
“Hi,” he answers, clicking through the tabs on his computer to try and settle on an artist. Michelangelo? Too overused. “Having fun?”
Jeno takes that as an invitation, stepping into the room and shutting the door quietly. He shuffles to sit on Renjun’s bed, pushed up to the left of Renjun’s desk. He rests his chin on the edge of the table, lips close to where Renjun’s hand is resting over his keyboard.
“Kinda,” Jeno hums. “We miss you.”
Renjun teases, “Them? Or you?”
Jeno pouts, lower lip bumping into Renjun’s pinky, “Me.”
Renjun merely nods in acknowledgment, eyes running across the pages of learning resources his professor’d provided. None of which were too helpful, all of which were too wordy. Jeno sits in silence, restlessly picking at one of the frays on the ends of Renjun’s shorts, occasionally running his fingers along the striped patterns.
“Aren’t you in the middle of a tournament out there?”
Jeno sighs, retracting his hands and keeping them on his lap, “I had Donghyuck play for me while I came here to check on you.”
Ignoring the smile that bubbles when he registers that Jeno came in to check on him, Renjun feigns aghast, “Yet you refuse to let me play on your behalf?”
“Hyuck’s a better player than you are,” Jeno says easily, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand.
Renjun tuts, waving Jeno away.
“Why don’t you take a break?” Jeno whines, hands reaching out naughtily to curl around Renjun’s waist. “Dinner’s going to be here soon, and you’ve just been working all day.”
As if he hadn’t just talked to Donghyuck about it,
“I know, but I just – I really want to find a topic for both my essays before hanging out with you guys. Get some peace of mind, at least.”
Jeno exhales loudly, inching forward to press his face into Renjun’s tummy. He tries to ask again, but concedes when Renjun gives him a pointed look, “Fine.” Jeno untangles himself, stretching as he gets to his feet, “Can I get a kiss at least?”
Renjun tears himself away from his laptop to reach up and cup Jeno’s cheek, guiding him until their lips meet sweetly. He pulls away, but Jeno chases, covering a hand over Renjun’s as he kisses Renjun again.
“One more thing, before I go – ”
“Mm?”
Jeno fiddles with the green bracelet on Renjun’s left wrist, a little torn and tattered, weathered and worn, “About your birthday – ”
Oh, no.
“I know you don’t want to do anything special or whatever,” Jeno’s voice is filled with so much displeasure that Renjun isn’t even sure the boy’s trying to hide it. “But – any chance you’ll change your mind?”
“Jeno – ”
“I know,” Jeno doesn’t give him a chance to speak, pulling mindlessly at the strands of their matching bracelet. Never, not once, has it been taken off. “But it’s your eighteenth birthday, and our second one together, together, and the first time you’re spending it away from home… Are you sure you don’t want to do anything special? Dinner? At that Japanese place that you like?”
Renjun stands, and Jeno startles at the sudden movement, but he recomposes himself by the time Renjun kisses him again.
“I’ll be fine, okay?” He says, taking Jeno into a hug. “Things are just really hectic right now, and I don’t want to celebrate my birthday. It’s just too much to handle.”
Jeno still looks unsure, so Renjun awards him another kiss.
“Don’t take too long,” Jeno pouts again, caving in and heading towards the door. “Miss you.”
“Love you too.”
x
Renjun’s birthday at midnight is normal enough, thankfully.
He knows the other three are only sitting around the living area with their nose buried into their phones just to stay awake long enough for the clock to strike midnight. When it does, his phone pings with messages from his family and friends, most of them he’ll reply to in the morning.
Jaemin and Donghyuck enter his room first, bringing him each a tiny gift and a big hug, already merciless with their old age jokes.
“You guys are forgetting that you’re both turning eighteen this year too,” Renjun mutters, setting their gifts aside to open later.
“Not for three months,” Donghyuck retorts triumphantly.
“Five,” Jaemin smirks, patting Renjun on the crown.
“Well,” Renjun clears his throat. Not knowing what else to say, “Thank you for the presents.”
Donghyuck rolls his eyes, “C’mon, Jaemin, we’re obviously not wanted in here.”
“Right,” Jaemin equals snobbishly. “There’s one more gift he should be expecting tonight, huh?”
Renjun flicks them both on the hips, sending both of his best friends out the door with even noisier complaints. The door to his room is pushed open the moment Renjun settles back into his seat.
“Happy birthday.”
Even with the weight of a million undone tasks on his shoulders, Renjun can’t hide the smile when he sees Jeno poke his head through the door with a neon green party hat on, complete with metallic fingers and HAPPY BIRTHDAY in a hideous font. He closes the door behind him, standing sheepishly in his sleep shirt and boxers.
Ah, yes.
“Thanks, Jeno,” Renjun says, making a quick work of saving his half-written essay. “Nice hat.”
Jeno’s eyes dart to the prettily wrapped gifts on the table (both of which were probably wrapped by Donghyuck), and he rushes to say, “I have a gift for you.”
Renjun laughs, opening his arms up for Jeno to step into, “D’you mean you in that hat wasn’t the gift?”
Jeno snorts, latching onto Renjun like a sloth to a tree, “No. I’ll hand you your gift tomorrow.”
“Thanks, babe,” Renjun sighs, letting his body meld with Jeno’s.
Sure, spending his birthday away from his family for the very first time’s a little unusual, but he thinks it’s alright, spending it in Jeno’s arms.
“Did you have more work to do?” Jeno asks, lips moving against Renjun’s shoulder.
“I can do them tomorrow,” he reassures.
With that, Jeno pulls away, leaning away to flip the lights off, drowning them in darkness.
They don’t share beds as often as he’d like them to, even with both of them living in the same apartment, rooms just next door to the other. Jeno spends most of his nights up working on papers and projects over Skype with his groupmates, and Renjun sleeps early to make it to open studios for a good place by the window; he’s happy to accommodate whenever Jeno skips over to share a bed for the night.
“Wait – I can’t see – ”
“The bed’s right – ow, my foot!”
“I said I couldn’t see!”
The back of Renjun’s knees eventually hit his bed, and Jeno topples over him, resulting them into giggling mess. Renjun shifts closer to the wall, letting Jeno settle in beside him comfortable.
“Are you going to take the hat off?” Renjun whispers, sliding a leg between Jeno’s and wriggling closer.
“I thought it’d make a good night cap,” Jeno laughs quietly, adjusting to rest an arm under the curve of Renjun’s neck.
“If you want to sleep what that thing on your head that’s fine by me,” Renjun shrugs, ready to fall asleep with his hands curled loosely against Jeno’s chest.
With another laugh, Jeno peels the hat off carefully, so as to not snap the string against his cheeks, tossing it over the edge of Renjun’s bed without much care. He nestles into the pillow, other arm coming around to pull Renjun closer.
“Hey.”
“Mm?” Renjun could fall asleep to the sound of Jeno’s heartbeat under his palm.
“Happy birthday.” Then, whispered into his hair, “Love you.”
“Love you too,” Renjun mumbles back, already moments away from slumber.
x
By six in the afternoon of Renjun’s birthday, he’s pretty much over it.
The exchange group he was bringing around was much larger than he could handle, and he’d been left with only two others to handle thirty of them all over lunch, which hadn’t gone as planned because the caterer they’d hired pulled out of the deal a half hour before they were scheduled to arrive. It’d sent them into a frenzy, scampering around the city to find a place empty enough for thirty-three people during lunch hour. It was impossible, of course, leaving Renjun and the two other volunteers to leave the group of thirty by the City Park, then running across the street to McDonalds and ordering a very large number and assortment of meals.
Not to mention it’d started raining during the final leg of their tour, forcing all of them to hideout in a random subway station for a half hour, waiting for the showers to stop.
Needless to say, the group of them are very unsatisfied with the campus and city tour, and Renjun just hopes no one’s bothered enough to lodge a complaint to the administrative staff.
It’s ten minutes away from home when Renjun’s phone buzzes in his back pocket,
23MAR [18:13] donghyuck: going over to min’s for dinner
23MAR [18:13] jaemin: me too
23MAR [18:14] jaemin: we’ll be back late
23MAR [18:15] donghyuck: happy birthday, jun
Renjun isn’t daft.
He can see the surprise whatever-it-is Jeno’s got planned for him happening from a mile away.
It’s okay, he tells himself. I can stay awake for a couple of hours more until it’s a more reasonable time to fall asleep.
He knows Jeno’s been wanting to celebrate his birthday together, despite Renjun’s wishes, and honestly, he’d expected something from Jeno after hearing that he would be receiving his gift today.
What he doesn’t expect, however, is catching Jeno burning pasta sauce in a sauce pan on the stove, a pot of spaghetti with boiling water spilling over the top and drenching the counter top, the oven door opened and a huge cloud of black smoke emerging from it like someone’s opened the gates of hell and the devil himself was a second away from crawling free.
He doesn’t even have the time to be frustrated,
“Jeno!”
The boy spins on his heels, dressed in Donghyuck’s (now ruined) apron, eyes so wide and filled with terror. There’s tomato sauce on his cheek, chocolate on his other, his hands are red, god knows why, and his eyes are wet as if he were seconds away from breaking into tears.
Hurriedly, Renjun drops his backpack to the floor, not bothering to toe his shoes off. He rushes past Jeno’s frozen self to pull the exhaust open and push the windows open wide; if they set the fire alarm off, things would be much more complicated. Switching the stoves off, he takes the pot and saucepan off, moving to rest them on the trivet by the dining table.
“Jun – ”
Wordlessly, Renjun grabs one of the plastic placemats by the dryer rack, fanning as hard as he can to get the smoke out of the kitchen. He ignores Jeno’s piteous form, chewing on his lower lip to keep himself from saying something he might regret later.
When the smoke manages to dissipate enough, Renjun makes out that it’s a burnt cake in the oven, shrivelled up and completely ruined.
His heart squeezes at the thought of Jeno trying his best to make such a dinner for them both.
Did it really matter that much?
Disappointed in himself first for shrugging Jeno off about spending his birthday together, Renjun doesn’t know what to say. Should he apologise for making things tough on both of them? Or is he really supposed to be mad when Jeno was just trying to do a nice thing, despite Renjun repeatedly saying that he didn’t want to do anything special?
Defeated and just tired, Renjun sighs, avoiding any sort of eye contact as he slots the placemat back onto the rack, walking out of the kitchen to take his shoes off.
All he wanted was a nice quiet night.
As he shifts to kick his shoes off and line them up properly by the door, the sound of a pan crashing to the ground makes him tumble back into the kitchen again,
to find Jeno crouching in front of the oven where the cake pan is overturned, clutching his right forearm to his chest.
It’s confusion for a second.
And in the next, the pained look on Jeno’s face is enough for him to register that his boyfriend was trying to take the cake out of the pan, burning himself in the process of doing so.
Jeno reels when Renjun’s eyes find the ugly red welt prominent against pale skin.
Renjun’s heart pricks. He wishes he’d agreed to the idea of having dinner at a restaurant.
Silently, he yanks open the pantry door closest to the edge where they kept their first aid kit, taking it out and leaving it on the counter. Then, he goes over to take Jeno by the elbow, as gently as he can with the mutiny in his heart, leading him towards the sink.
“It’s going to hurt,” Renjun warns, turning the tap on and turning it to as cold as it can get. Once Jeno nods, he pushes Jeno’s arm under the running water. He flinches at the pain, and Renjun wishes he could turn back time.
They stay like that, pressed close together as they watch the water flow off into the drain. Then,
“Are you mad?”
Renjun’s gut coils at the question. How could Jeno think he be mad when he’d gotten hurt?
“I – I know you said you didn’t want to do anything,” Jeno continues, head lowered. “But I knew you were so stressed and it’s your birthday, and I just wanted to do something special.”
Renjun watches as Jeno’s bracelet gets soak under the rush of water.
“I’m so – ”
“Don’t apologize,” Renjun interjects. He wouldn’t know what to do if he heard one leave Jeno’s lips. It’s enough how bad he’s feeling about brushing Jeno off, then consequently leading to Jeno getting burnt by a cake pan, of all things.
“I’m not mad,” he says quietly, moving to rest his forehead against Jeno’s shoulder. With a frown, “How could I be mad? You were just trying to do something nice, Jeno.”
Jeno sighs. It pains Renjun to think that it’s one of relief.
“Was this the gift you prepared?” Renjun asks, lifting his head up to look Jeno in the eyes, still a little teary. From pain, or otherwise, he wasn’t sure.
“Half of it,” Jeno sounds so desolated, Renjun doesn’t know what to do.
He goes on his tiptoes to plant a kiss on Jeno’s lips, moving away to thread his fingers through Jeno’s hair, “I’m sorry it didn’t – work out.”
“I don’t know what I did wrong,” Jeno sighs again, shoulders drooping. “I’ve practiced this with Donghyuck twice, and it was fine then.”
Renjun feels worst.
“You didn’t have to make me anything,” he tries, grazing his thumb over the shell of Jeno’s ear, trying to be reassuring.
“But I wanted to,” Jeno is petulant, pink colouring his cheeks.
“Then, thank you for trying,” Renjun says, rewarding Jeno with a kiss to the tip of his nose. “I love you.”
Jeno offers a timid smile, “Would you love me more if I’d succeeded?”
Renjun shuts the tap off, “I’d love you all the same.”
He dries Jeno’s arm off with paper towels carefully, watching Jeno’s expression as he pats lightly over the burn.
“You should shower before I cover it up with some gauze,” Renjun says, crumping the paper towels and shoving them into the makeshift trash bin by the sink.
Jeno glances around the kitchen, the messiest it’s ever been since the day they’ve moved in, “The mess – I need to – ”
“I can clean it up, you should – ”
“No way,” Jeno is adamant, taking his arm from Renjun’s grasp and moving towards the dining table. “I’m not going to let you clean my mess on your birthday, Jun – ”
“C’mon,” Renjun tsks, tugging on the back of Jeno’s shirt. He turns around unwillingly, frown set deep on his face, “I – I feel bad enough that you got hurt trying to make dinner for us, don’t be difficult, hm?” Renjun unties the apron around Jeno’s waist, leaving it on the back of the dining chair. “Shower and I’ll order takeout, and we can just watch a movie together… How about that?”
Jeno shakes his head, but Renjun doesn’t care, pushing him out of the kitchen and into the hallway.
With a lot more pushing and shoving, Renjun gets Jeno out of his hair enough to work on cleaning the kitchen up. It’s practically Donghyuck’s sanctuary in there and Renjun does his best to get every single tomato stain off the walls. He scrubs the pots and pans clean, and leaves the pan out to soak. Apologetically, he tosses the inedible dinner into a garbage bag, burnt cake included, hurrying out into the disposal room at the end of the hallway, and then back into the apartment.
Groaning, he flops against the couch, dialling the number for takeout and holding the phone to his ear.
He orders easily, conversing in Mandarin just so they’d get over and done with his order quickly.
Jeno remerges with wet hair and a towel around his neck, and Renjun beckons him over, listening half-heartedly as the cashier goes over his order of fried rice and dumplings. Silently, Jeno sinks into couch, resting his cheek on Renjun’s chest as he regurgitates their address over the phone.
The moment he hangs up, Jeno takes him by the cheeks, kissing him slow. Renjun kisses him back, just enough until he’s out of breath and pulling away to excuse himself for a shower.
By the time the doorbell rings, Renjun is all clean and Jeno’s arm is all wrapped up in a roll of sterile gauze, and food is laid out in their takeout boxes over the dinky coffee table that came with the apartment.
Renjun’s too lazy to get up to set Netflix up on his laptop for them to watch and Jeno doesn’t seem to mind, so they eat in silence, feet tangled up together as they dig through dinner.
“ – we got caught in the rain too.” Renjun is midway through a retelling of his eventful day, Jeno rubbing circles into his knee as he listens attentively, “I don’t know – it was just so tiring.” He pauses, smiling small at his boyfriend, “But I’m glad – I’m here with you now.”
“Sorry, Jun,” Jeno says quickly, before he’s stopped. “I didn’t know you were having a rough day, I would’ve just – ”
“Oh, stop that,” Renjun dismisses, kicking at Jeno’s shin lightly. “You’re making me feel bad… I love you for trying, okay?”
Jeno bites on his lip, nodding and eating the last of the vegetable dumplings. Chewing, he asks, “What do you want to do? After this?”
Renjun shrugs, tapping his chopsticks against the container to shake the rice fluffs off as he claims the last of the meat dumplings, “I kinda just want to lie in bed, honestly.”
“Movie in bed?” Jeno asks.
Renjun smiles. Jeno knows him best, “Sure.”
Packing up is much quicker; Jeno clears the rubbish this time, refusing to let Renjun even touch the garbage bag, hopping out of the apartment to rid of it.
Renjun sets his laptop up and pulls Netflix open, leaving it at its homepage to let Jeno have a pick of what movie they were going to watch since he was fairly sure he was going to fall asleep halfway through anyway. He slides under the covers first, grabbing his phone and replying to birthday wishes he’d failed to get to during the day. Most of them were from distant cousins or oddball schoolmates he’d never really spoken to, but he still thanks everyone sincerely for remembering.
He’s just about done with the final text when Jeno returns, and he returns with a brown paper bag in his hands.
‘I have a gift for you.’
Renjun sits up, leaving his phone face down on his desk as Jeno shuts the door, shuffling over with a nervous smile on his lips.
“Happy birthday,” he says for the thousandth time in the past twenty-four hours.
Renjun rises to his knees, tall enough give Jeno a kiss on the cheek in exchange for the gift, “Is this what you were talking about last night?”
“Yes,” Jeno mumbles, scooting Renjun over to sit on the bed too. “It’s nothing huge, seriously.”
He’d mentioned not wanting gifts, but still… receiving one, especially from Jeno, makes Renjun heart pound and his head giddy.
Tearing through the tape, Renjun finds a flat, white box with a black ribbon over it. There’s no brand impressed on the top or on the ribbons. He shakes it, and the gift inside clatters around noisily, so he looks up, curiosity peaked.
Jeno licks his lips, “Open it.”
And so, he does, pulling the ribbon apart and plucking the top lid off,
It’s confusion for a second.
And in the next, Renjun’s brain makes the gift out;
A pair of thin, silver rings lying over two black necklace cords.
Renjun drops the lid onto the bed, jaw dropping.
“It’s just a promise ring,” Jeno says quickly, jittery. Renjun can’t look away from the silver bands.
Jeno rambles,
“I mean – we’ve had these bracelets for two years now, and I’m even surprised they lasted for that long, y’know, since it’s just string, and I got to thinking what would happen if either of ours broke, I mean, we could still keep them, of course, but I thought I wanted to make us something new since you made the bracelets, and I didn’t know if you wanted a bracelet again, and I know you work a lot with paint so a ring isn’t ideal so I got the necklaces if you wanted to wear them as a necklace and I don’t know – it isn’t a birthday gift, really, it’s more like a gift for us, so I wanted to make dinner as a gift but – ”
Frankly speaking, Renjun’s not even listening at this point.
He picks the ring up with shaky fingers, inspecting them closely and it’s enough to have Jeno shut up for a minute.
The first thing Renjun picks up is the tiny date engraved, or maybe stamped, on the inside of the ring – 1402, which, as cliché as it seems being on Valentines’ day, is the date of their anniversary.
The second thing he picks up is how uneven the letterings are, looking very oddly… unprofessional.
Renjun’s head snaps up. Jeno blinks.
“Did you say you made these?”
Jeno splutters, “I mean – sorta? I asked Hyuck for help and he helped me ask one of the fourth-year fashion students in jewellery design or something and they let me use their workstation and helped me with the start and gave me a video to follow and I kept making mistakes and it took ages to, like, polish it, but I got a lot of help and I think it turn out alright and – ” he takes a deep breath,
“Can you say something? You’re really freaking me out right now, Jun.”
Renjun can’t even think. How is it possible that his self-proclaimed artistically stilted boyfriend managed to make actual rings for them both? How long has Jeno been planning this exactly?
Oh, my god.
“You’re crazy,” Renjun barely manages a whisper. “You’re actually, really crazy, Lee Jeno.”
“I don’t know if that’s good thing or a – ”
“I can’t believe you made these!” Renjun gushes, picking up the other ring and scrutinising it closely. “How long did it take? Since when – how even – what – ”
Jeno laughs, bright and dorky, and Renjun feels a heavy pressure building up behind his eyes. Oh, he’s going to cry, and he’s going to cry hard.
“A couple of months,” Jeno says, pulling the necklace cords out of the box. “I wanted these to be a gift for our second anniversary, but I couldn’t finish them in time.”
“I love them,” Renjun sniffles, the waterworks starting on their own. “I really, really love them.”
“You know you only get to keep one, right?” Jeno says cheekily.
“You’re an idiot,” Renjun swipes at his tears with the back of his hand, picking the ring in his right and handing the other to Jeno. “I really – I don’t even know what to say, Jeno, what do I say?”
He grins, looping necklace through his ring, “For one, you could you say you’ll use it?”
Renjun succeeds in being deadpan even with tears streaking down his cheeks, “Of course, I’ll use it!”
“Here,” Jeno says, motioning for Renjun to come close. So, he goes, burying his face into the crook of Jeno’s neck as his boyfriend puts the promise ring on for him. “The cord’s waterproof too, so you don’t have to worry about showering with it or whatever.”
Renjun thumbs the ring that sits perfectly on the dip between his collarbones, still completely speechless.
“I’ll just have mine on my finger,” Jeno says expectantly, sticking his left hand out.
Renjun tugs Jeno closer, sliding the band onto his ring finger, and yanking Jeno down for a languid kiss. Jeno smiles, moving to hover over Renjun and push him down against the bed, leaving his weight on his elbows. Renjun doesn’t let Jeno move apart, twining his arms around Jeno’s neck to keep him close.
They kiss for what feels like hours, and Renjun doesn’t want to stop, because he knows nothing he says can ever convey how thrilled and purely happy he is, so he tries to with kisses.
Eventually, Jeno does break the kiss, breathless, but he doesn’t go far, arms giving out and knocking the air out of Renjun as drops right over his chest.
“I love you,” Renjun says, a little strained from where Jeno’s weight is stressing against his lungs.
“I love you too,” and more kisses ensue.
(“How am I supposed to get you a birthday gift now?” Renjun bemoans, twisting around in Jeno’s lap, trying to glare at the boy, younger by a month exactly. “You’ve set the standard so high with these!”
“They’re not birthday gifts,” Jeno reiterates, turning Renjun back around and making sure his laptop on Renjun’s lap doesn’t fall off the bed. The screen to Avengers has been there for the past ten minutes, not like Jeno has any problems just cuddling. “They’re anniversary gifts, and it’s not a competition!”
Renjun takes Jeno’s hand in his, admiring the ring again, resting perfect, “It’s still amazing, Jeno, I don’t even know how you’re going to one-up this.”
Jeno wraps his arms around Renjun’s waist, hitting the spacebar with his pinky finger, “Ask me again in two years.”
Renjun hums, leaning his head back against Jeno’s shoulder, fingers subconsciously moving to play with his brand-new promise ring.
Over the sound of the movie starting, Renjun snorts,
“Maybe you could get our initials engraved on a pair of cups.”
“You’re never going to let me live it down, are you?”
“Never, runner boy.”
Jeno smothers Renjun with a pillow.
(And then with kisses.))