Work Text:
i told you once,
now i’ll tell you twice
that I shall love you all my life.
-- Love You, Edward Gaudet
x
Jeno hears the rain before he sees it. Fat drops of rain patter heavily against the arched windows, casting shadows of dots against the sheets of papers laid across the wooden table. The library darkens slowly, gloomy clouds doing their best to hide the sun away, filling the building with a restless quality. It blurs the words on Jeno’s notes, his handwriting blending into smudged line, not remaining as the carefully written definitions he’d so painstakingly copied.
He pushes his hands over his head, stretching the stiffness away. With a tired sigh, he glances down the length of the table at the students around him, all of whom are still diligent in their own work, eyes glued to books and computer screens. Jeno looks away, to the rows of shelves and the end of the hall where he spots a few students in lounge chairs. The clock on the wall tells him that it’s been three whole hours since he’s sat down and it does nothing but encourage him to fidget about.
Resigning to the fact that one reading is the most he’s going to accomplish today, he starts to gather his things. It’s just the weather, he tells himself, shutting his laptop and tucking it into his backpack.
It wouldn’t be this hard if it were sunny outside.
Jeno leaves the study spot quickly, shrugging his coat on and arming himself with a compact umbrella he knows the storm will defeat. He passes the empty hallways for the exit, sighing gravely when the dull skies greet him dauntingly. Lightning flashes and thunder follows, but he goes anyway, suddenly desperate to get home where it’s safe and warm and where it doesn’t feel like he’s about to get blown away by the next gust of wind.
“Ugh,” he mutters, shoes soaking with every step. He avoids the bigger puddles, hopping around while keeping to the pavement. Home is only a five-minute walk away (thank you, campus housing), but the rain makes the journey extra tedious. A few others brave the rain too, heroically navigating through the soon-to-be flooded streets.
Jeno’s phone buzzes twice in his pocket just as he’s at the stoplight. He wants to answer it, but the grip he has on his umbrella is ironclad, trying not to let it get blown right out of his hands. Debating whether or not he’s willing to risk getting his phone drenched, the third buzz has him reaching for it anyway,
renjun [16:32]: ⁽͑ʺˀ˙̭ˁʺ⁾̉
renjun [16:32]: are you home yet?
renjun [16:34]: the storm is really heavy…
Jeno presses his phone to his chest when the crosswalk signal starts to beep. He steps off to the side to let some others pass, juggling texting Renjun back and trying not to get completely soaked. It’s a bit of a task when the rain’s practically hitting at him from the sides, and he’s about to get a face full of leaves when he manages a short,
jeno [16:36]: i’m on my way home now ;—;
Before he can tuck his phone away, the next message pings in,
renjun [16:36]: okay, be safe
renjun [16:37]: i’ll come over later ♡
Jeno slides his phone back into his back pocket, steps a little lighter now with the thought of Renjun in mind. Sure, they’ve been dating for almost three months and they have seven years of friendship under their belt, but – it just makes Jeno happy. Being with Renjun makes him happy. Being with Renjun makes coffee a little sweeter, makes the sun shine a little brighter, makes his heart beat a little quicker. Every day he thanks the lucky stars Renjun liked him back – from the nerve frying feelings he tortured himself with, thinking up ways to let Renjun know of how he felt, to the point Renjun admitted to them too over a lunch they didn’t plan to have.
Jeno’s heart is full of love for Renjun.
And it’s contemplating how to show Renjun just how much that he hears something that makes him stop in his tracks. His foot jams up, slamming dirty water against his jeans, but he doesn’t care. He stiffens, straining to hear with the angry rain raining down.
Lightening strikes and thunder claps. Jeno flinches on instinct, but he hears it again.
Oh my god, he blinks. Stepping away from the crosswalk, he approaches the bushes with caution, all the while trying to figure of if that sound he’s hearing – that whine – is what he thinks it is.
Jeno thinks he sees it. Buried under the weak shelter of leaves and thorny branches, Jeno thinks he sees – fur. Blonde and very clearly soaked, the thing – he isn’t all that sure yet – wiggles uncomfortably. At that, he extends to hold the umbrella over it, not caring that his backpack’s carrying a folder full of important notes that he really shouldn’t jeopardize getting wet. He hears the crosswalk beep again, and it only serves as a reminder that he should be on his way home – but he can’t, he just can’t leave this thing here.
He really can’t.
But I can’t bring you back to the apartment either, Jeno laments. He shuffles around anxiously, bits of the argument flying back and forth in his mind. I can’t, I’ll get in trouble.
Jeno bites on his tongue and turns to leave – but it whimpers again. With a surge of pity in his heart, Jeno reaches through the bush and grabs the animal quickly, wincing when a couple of thorns dig angrily into his skin. Be that as it may, all pain falls away when he meets the puppy face to face, dark eyes staring into Jeno’s guilelessly. It struggles in Jeno’s hand, bigger than he thought it to be, paws digging through the air with its nose pointed towards his chest.
And really, truly, Jeno just can’t say no to a puppy.
x
The apartment is empty when Jeno gets home. He leaves the umbrella by the door, rushing into his room with the puppy – he’s temporarily taken to calling it Hodu, walnut; from the walnut tree planted by the university’s chancellor; he’d spotted the commemorative plaque just after rescuing Hodu – hidden in his coat, a blatant attempt to sneak it pass the receptionist (which worked smoothly, thankfully). He drops to his knees unceremoniously, pain forgotten the moment he lets Hodu down, excited and nervous about it being in an unfamiliar environment.
“Well,” Jeno mumbles, watching Hodu sniff at the hardwood floors. He reaches to grab a hand towel from his opened closet, drying Hodu off tenderly, “At least you’re warmer in here.”
Hodu seems to agree, sniffing through Jeno’s piles of books and stacks of papers he’s been meaning to sort. It trots around the room, little legs carrying it around until it finds the glory that is Jeno’s bed. It paws at the corner of Jeno’s quilt hanging off the edge, a weak attempt at trying to climb into its comfort. Jeno digs through his drawers for an old bath towel, folding it into a comfy rectangle for Hodu to rest on instead – Hodu seems to prefer the bed, but it concedes when Jeno makes no move to allow him on there.
At least, not yet.
He sneaks into his Donghyuck’s room to loan the boy’s hairdryer – sorry, Hyuck – settling down beside Hodu and turning the settings to a pleasant degree of warmth, properly drying Hodu off. When it seems unable to sit still anymore, Jeno unplugs the hairdryer and returns it to Donghyuck’s bathroom just like how he found it, praying Donghyuck wouldn’t notice that he’d borrowed it without asking.
On the way back to his room, he fills up a bowl of water for Hodu and wonders if they have anything in their cupboards fit for a dog to eat. He searches high and low, but finds no traces of fruit, which is in actuality a testament to how healthy they are in the apartment.
“Here,” Jeno announces to the room when he returns, offering the bowl of water to Hodu. He sets it down where Hodu is relaxing on its bath towel, looking up from where it’d been gnawing at the hem. It drinks slowly at first, wary of Jeno still, but eventually laps at it, understandably dehydrated. For good measure, Jeno does a quick internet search – what human food can dogs eat and nearest pet store.
Armed with new knowledge, Jeno tells Hodu to please not chew through anything when he’s gone. He clears all of the wires off the floor, stacking them onto his bed along with a few textbooks he can’t destroy just yet. Hodu curls up on the bath towel contentedly, tucking its paw under its chin as it watches Jeno leave the room with another soft warning.
Grabbing his keys off the kitchen counter, Jeno shoves his shoes on carelessly, closing the lights and yanking the door open –
“Hey – whoa!”
Jeno’s arms shoot out on reflex, catching the boy that falls face first into his chest. He feels a dull throb pushing against his torso, and it takes him longer than usual to piece together that the boy in his arms is his boyfriend, hands pressed against Jeno’s stomach to keep him from completely pushing them both over.
In that swift moment, Renjun smells good. Like some magical mix of his shampoo and the brand of dryer sheets he used; or like sunflowers and daisies, things that just make Jeno innately happy. Renjun always smells reassuring and homely, a comforting confusion of the tangibility of things that makes Jeno breathe easy.
“Whoa,” Renjun says again, stumbling back so that his words aren’t completely muffled by Jeno’s sweater. He shakes his head to rid the disorientation, blinking up at Jeno, “Are you okay? Where are you going?”
“Uh – ”
Oh, Jeno hated lying. Especially to Renjun, of all people. But he knows Renjun would tell him that housing a random dog he’s picked off the street is a monumental error of judgement that will only lead to problems upon problems. He can’t possibly keep a dog in his apartment, not when he doesn’t know if Hodu – sweet, sweet, Hodu – is vaccinated and microchipped, or if there’s a whole bunch of other puppies from its litter out there in the rain, or if it’s actually someone else’s lost puppy. Jeno didn’t want to think about that, he just wanted to keep Hodu for now – he saved the puppy from the rain, he should at least get to keep it forever. And if not, for a few days.
He doesn't know why, but he just doesn’t want Hodu to be taken away from him.
“Earth to Jeno?” Renjun waves a hand over Jeno’s eyes, snapping him out of his internal debate. Renjun’s brows crease faintly as he takes in the current state Jeno’s in – still drenched from the rain with his hair sticking up and out, “Did something happen?”
“No,” he answers quickly. Fully aware that Renjun reads him like a picture book, Jeno fumbles for the door knob, shuffling towards Renjun to have the shorter boy back out into the hallway as he tries to shut the door. “I’m fine – I just – ” Jeno cringes when he sees Renjun’s eyes dart behind him into the darkened living room. “I, uh – ”
Renjun frowns, “Is someone else here?”
“No, no,” Jeno stammers, the only word available in his vocabulary for the day. Swallowing thickly, he manages, “I was just about to – leave home to get some food. For dinner. My dinner.”
“In the rain?” Renjun reaches to push the hair falling in Jeno’s eyes, palm lingering against Jeno’s cheek for a second. He steps forward, and it takes Jeno every single bone in his body not to budge. Renjun is small, but his presence is insurmountable. “I still have some groceries from last week, I could make something simple for us.”
Renjun at his doorstep. Renjun proposing a dinner date. Renjun.
Hodu sleeping soundly in his room.
“I can’t, I – I – ” Jeno falters when Renjun’s frown turns sullen.
“You don’t want to?”
“No, no!” Jeno curses at his indecisiveness. He just can’t turn Renjun away, “I want to.”
“Okay,” Renjun says, doubt coloring his voice. He takes another step closer, so close that he’s almost looking up at Jeno, “Then why are we standing in the hallway, Jeno?”
“Uh – I, I – ”
Renjun waits patiently, unmoving and relentless with his stare. Jeno eats the rock in his throat.
He knows Renjun hates it when he’s kept in the dark; even if it’s something like a surprise birthday party – Renjun’s last birthday party was a complete failure because Jeno spent all day running around to get things ready, and Renjun thought Jeno was playing a trick on him by pretending to forget. Renjun refused to leave his room, even when Jeno revealed that everyone was waiting across the hall for him, decked in party hats and a two-tiered cake of fresh cream and strawberries.
Or the time Jeno got accepted to the state’s university a few weeks after Renjun did. It was a lot harder for Jeno to, without grades as competitive as everyone else, and they were prepared for Jeno to move two cities away for university, marking the first time in years they wouldn’t be neighbors. Renjun cried the whole evening Jeno was supposed to leave – he wanted to surprise Renjun with the good news – and Jeno, at that point in time, truly thought Renjun would never return after storming out, steam positively pouring from his ears because Jeno put him through that much agony.
Jeno shrinks, “Promise you won’t take it away?”
“What?” Renjun’s eyes widen, features relaxing into surprise, no longer racked with doubt. Replacing it is concern, “What are you talking about?”
Silently, he lets Renjun in. He kicks his shoes off and Renjun shuts the door, a halo of stressed energy surrounding him as he follows suit, trailing behind Jeno wordlessly. The tension between them is laughable, all for the fact that Jeno’s harboring a tiny fugitive in his room. He casts a glance at Renjun, taken aback at the genuine concern he can see, and it coerces him to push the door open.
There aren’t words needed because Hodu is running towards them at the speed of light, a fluff of golden fur slamming itself into Jeno’s calves. He leans forward to pick it up before it can start pawing at Renjun, hugging it to his cheek. It’s soft and emanating such pure happiness that Jeno can’t pull himself back to reality, not even when Renjun’s looking at him in a way he knows he won’t like what Renjun’s about to say.
“Oh, baobei,” Renjun mutters, gravely, apologetically. Jeno’s spirits dampen just a smidgen – Renjun only ever calls him baobei – baby – when he’s about to give him bad news, or when he’s trying to cheer Jeno up – and in this case, Jeno thinks it’s about to be both. “Is it a stray?”
“Yeah,” Jeno mumbles. Hodu licks excitedly at his jaw, and Jeno juts his lower lip out, “I found it just off 3rd Street, near the library.” Renjun parts his lips to speak, but Jeno rambles on, not ready to hear Renjun’s level-headed reaction to this, “The storm was really bad and I couldn’t just leave it there, Jun – I had to take it with me and I know you’re going to say the building doesn’t allow pets, but it was storming and I couldn’t walk away knowing that it’d be stuck in the cold, and – ”
“Jeno, wait – slow down – ”
“But I just really, really, really want to keep it, Jun,” Jeno dissolves into pleading, growing frantic at Renjun’s ever steady expression. “I can take care of it and I’m sure if I bring it home, my mom will say it’s okay to keep it! I already named it, and I just – I can take care of it!”
Renjun sighs, more at the thought that Jeno’s already grown so attached to the little puppy. “You named it?”
“Hodu,” Jeno mumbles pitiably. He holds it out towards Renjun, as if hoping it’s puppy eyes and silky coat can someone convince his boyfriend that keeping it is a good idea. “Jun…”
Renjun pats Hodu kindly, stroking the bridge of its snout with the pad of his thumb. He smiles when Hodu licks at his hand, but Jeno would be lying if he said he thought Renjun was warming up to the idea of keeping it. Renjun entertains the idea for a while, for Jeno’s benefit, playing with Hodu all while Jeno watched, some crack in his heart hoping that Renjun would miraculously ignore his rational side.
Softly, he tells Jeno, “There’s a PetSmart twenty-minutes away.”
Jeno sulks, “No…”
“I know, baobei,” Renjun mumbles. He eases Hodu out of Jeno’s arms, leaving the puppy down on the floor to take Jeno’s hands in his. Jeno detests the dread in his chest, the fact that he knows Renjun is right – he’s going to have to bring the puppy to a vet at some point. Renjun is nothing but sympathetic, squeezing Jeno’s hand reassuringly, “We can wait until the rain stops, but I – really don’t think we should keep him here any longer.”
“But – ”
“And you have allergies,” Renjun reminds him softly. It’s subtle, but Jeno knows Renjun’s treading lightly. Animals have always had a special place in Jeno’s heart; the rush of joy he gets seeing or holding onto one is almost indescribable. Renjun goes on his tiptoes to kiss him sweetly on the cheek, “I’m sorry.”
Jeno doesn’t say anything, sure that everything he can think of saying is nothing that will help in this losing battle. Renjun understands this, pulling Jeno into a tight hug like he was trying to battle Jeno’s unhappiness with his touch. It works, of course, and Jeno lets go only when he’s sure he isn’t about to grab Hodu and run out the door, straight for his home in the suburbs.
“Are you okay?” Renjun asks, keeping an arm around Jeno’s waist. Jeno watches Hodu scurry around his room, bumping into table legs and the sides of his ratty bookcase, appreciating the way Renjun’s just here. “Do you want dinner?”
“Not really,” Jeno mumbles. He doesn’t want to be sad over it, especially when he knew from the beginning – somewhere in his heart – that he wouldn’t get to keep Hodu, but it’s still… a miserable feeling. He steps away from Renjun to pick Hodu up, and with a deep breath, he waits for another clap of thunder. It doesn’t come. “I think the storm’s over.”
Renjun nods, and with a small, encouraging smile, “I’ll go grab my coat.”
x
Hodu – or Sunny, as they’re informed later by a veterinarian – belongs to a small girl living three blocks from where Jeno’d found it. It’d gotten out when she left the door open to look at the then darkening clouds, and it has been a hectic four hours the family has spent looking for Sunny. The vet invites Jeno and Renjun to wait until the family arrives so that they can personally convey their thanks, but Jeno politely declines.
It’s immature to be so affected over something like this – but Jeno’s had enough of today and he just can’t wait for it to be over. Renjun gives him space, keeping silent the entire ride home on the subway, but he holds onto Jeno too, just to let the boy know that he’s here for him. The feeling of Hodu cuddled between his chest and coat is still fresh, but the doodles Renjun’s tracing on the back of his hand is taking it off his mind.
Jeno thinks about it all the way back to the residence hall. Did he really manage to establish such a connection with Hodu in that short walk from a block down back home? Or did he just hate the idea of having something, then losing it when he wasn’t ready to let go?
Either way – Jeno didn’t want to think about it.
Renjun makes them stop by a grocery store on their short walk home from the station. He lets Jeno wander around aimlessly, picking out food for his own apartment – some grapes for Donghyuck, but only the red ones, and some of those saltine crackers for the next time they’re all hungover – while going off to the other aisles. He pays before Jeno does, recyclable bag hooked on the crook of his elbow as he guides Jeno to pay, then out to resume their journey back home.
“Are you sure you don’t want dinner?” Renjun asks. They turn onto the second landing leading up to their hallway.
Jeno takes a minute to think about it – he didn’t want Renjun to hang around him when all he can think about is why he’s so upset about losing a puppy that wasn’t his in the first place. But he knew that if he said that outright, Renjun would insist on staying over and Jeno wouldn’t know how to stop sulking to not ruin both their nights.
“I have some leftover stock from last night,” he continues, studying Jeno closely. His hair bounces with every step, “You should at least have some soup?”
Jeno yields, “Okay.”
And so Renjun goes, with a short kiss goodbye and a soft whisper of I’ll be over later, back into his own apartment just three doors down – they’d managed to fill their rooming arrangement forms wrongly and Jeno ended up rooming with Donghyuck; Renjun with Jaemin, which didn’t really make a difference considering how much they all hang out together (Minhyung included). Jeno huddles back into his own apartment, relieved to see that Donghyuck isn’t back yet, for he wouldn’t know how to act if he had to pretend everything’s okay.
What am I thinking…
He asks himself this, tucking the milk into side of the refrigerator door and leaving the grapes in the fresh box. He rips a post-it note off the counter and sticks it onto the top of the box, Hyuck.
He takes a shower then, letting the hot water undo the knots in his shoulders. The day plays in his mind like a movie, and it’s through flashbacks of finding Hodu that Jeno thinks again to why it’s just bothering him so much that it’s gone now. He’s never had issues with letting go of things – not the lucky jersey from high school that helped him score winning shots all senior year, not the first pair of Nikes he bought from his very first paycheck as a ticket attendent at AMC, not the bunny stuffy he carried around as a young child. Sure, those were all things that meant something to him to a variating degree, but he didn’t have that much trouble letting go.
“I’ll get over it,” he mutters, shutting the water off. He knows he will. He knows that by this time next week, he’s most definitely be over it. It’s just the now that’s hard to deal with.
By the time he’s dressed and out in the living room, the sun’s already set. With lead in his legs, he sets the table for two; he’s thankful Renjun’s coming over again, really. If he wasn’t, Jeno’s sure he’d be holed up in his room watching videos on puppies and being all mopey under his blanket. He wonders how Renjun ever sticks by his childish tendencies – either way, he’s relieved that Renjun isn’t scared off by it just yet.
Two raps on the door interrupts his thoughts. Jeno sets the chopsticks down to answer it, thinking Renjun’s hands to be too full to open it himself.
I should’ve gone over to help, he thinks distractedly, swinging the door open to have his jaw fall to the ground.
Renjun stands, soup pot in hand and cheeks a bright red. His lower lip is trapped between his teeth, absolutely radiating embarrassment as Jeno takes in the cat ears headband the older boy has atop his crown. Not just that, Renjun’s also got some sort of brown paint – paint? – on his nose, squiggly lines drawn on his cheeks that Jeno easily assumes are whiskers.
The sight is… well, it’s confusing, that’s for sure.
“Oh my – wha – ” Jeno blinks profusely, wondering if he’d hit his head in the shower and somehow descended into a different plane of existence. “Wha – what – I – ”
Renjun sniffs, and the brown spot on his nose scrunches. Jeno’s heart flips a hundred times over. He coughs, “Well, this isn’t how I thought this would go.”
Jeno splutters, “What?”
“I know you’re upset – about Hodu,” Renjun’s cheeks are glowing with every second, “So I thought – this would make you, I don’t know – laugh, or something.”
Jeno starts to smile, “Laugh?”
Renjun’s lip twitches, “I don’t know!”
“I don’t think I can,” Jeno says sternly, earning himself a puzzled look. He grins, “Not when you’re looking this cute.”
Renjun makes an indignant noise, averting his eyes. With a huff, “Please let me in – I think I might have to switch halls if someone saw me right now.”
“What?” Jeno asks, feigning offense. He lets Renjun in anyway, taking pity when he sees just how red Renjun’s ears are. His mind spins – it’s so ridiculous, how fast his mood is lifted, just by having Renjun here, Renjun and all of his sweet antics and loving self. “I really think you look cute.”
“Stop,” Renjun tells him, but he’s beginning to smile too. “It’s supposed to be funny.”
Jeno raises a brow, stepping in front of where Renjun’s setting the pot of stew down for them both on the dining table. “Is this supposed to be funny? You dressed as a cat?”
“It was the only kind they had at the store!”
“You just look cute, and you know it, babe.”
Renjun scoffs, folding his arms across his chest and it makes Jeno grin because he very aware of how much Renjun hates to lose. “Are you saying my plan failed?”
Jeno shakes his head, I wouldn’t dare. “Not at all,” he says, leaning forward. “You make me smile, you and your… funny cat costume.”
Renjun deflates, “But it didn’t make you laugh.”
Jeno tangles in his emotions, brain wiring and re-wiring itself over and over. Renjun is still looking at him with an air of confidence he doesn’t know the source of. Here, his boyfriend, his best friend, doing things he absolutely doesn’t have to just because Jeno’s feeling down – feeling uncharacteristically out of it.
Something gurgles uncomfortably in his stomach.
Jeno’s breathing quickens when he realizes what it is. His heart skips, flips, trips, does a somersault, rides a rollercoaster, buys a plane ticket around the world and gets slammed right back into this ribcage when he realizes just what this is.
When he realizes that he only left the library this afternoon with a skip to his step when he knew Renjun would come over. When he realizes that the first wave of sadness that hit from letting Hodu go dwindled when Renjun was there, holding him together. When he realizes that Renjun is still here, and that he doesn’t want to go through today without Renjun, or tomorrow, or the day after that.
It’s the crippling feeling of uneasiness that has Jeno hurling towards a state of mind he wants dearly to avoid – what if I didn’t have this? Didn’t have Renjun like this? Didn’t have the chance in this lifetime to be with Renjun? Would life still taste as sweet, Jeno doubts it. Renjun is so much more to him than just someone he wants to be with for the rest of his life, but he can't translate it in any other way, mind whirling at the ideas of the cosmos working over time to line them up together like this.
As scary as it is, he knows what this is.
“ – and I thought about coming up with a knock-knock joke, but that just sounds like something you would do and I’m not about to prove my standard of humor to be as low as yours, but – ”
“I love you.”
Jeno takes the biggest inhale he’s ever taken in his life the moment the words drift into the space between them.
Renjun stops short. His mouth falls open, and all that punctures the silence is the sound of shallow breaths he’s wheezing in.
The first time Jeno’s ever said this out loud and he’s saying it while Renjun’s got Jaemin’s eyeliner on his cheeks and a pair of cat ears on his head.
“I mean – ” Jeno stumbles back, clueless on what dictates the next move for having his I love you be met with absolute silence. “I’ve always loved you – ”
Oh my god. Oh, my god. Oh my god.
“As in!” Jeno gasps, raising his palms like he wanted to surrender, oh god, he wanted to surrender. Renjun is gaping at him like he’s got two heads, “I mean – I’ve always loved you like a friend! For a long time,” he fumbles for the right words, “I – I’ve always loved you like a friend, but now – ” Jeno achieves only disjointed noises until –
Renjun whispers, “But now?”
Jeno’s hands fly up to grab at his cheeks, pulling at them hard as if they would help him calm down. Renjun watches from a safe distance away, his own knuckles turning white from where they’re gripping against the back of a dining chair, “But now –
– now, I love you.” Jeno pauses, “Like I – I love you, love you.” He starts to speak again, starts to say You don’t have to say it just because I did, I understand,
but Renjun is flying across the room to throw his arms around Jeno’s neck, exuding an intangible feeling that Jeno feels in his heart – he feels it too. His cheek squishes against Jeno’s neck, and the warmth of skin on skin makes Jeno shiver.
“I love you,” Renjun breathes, speaking into Jeno’s shoulder. “I love you too.”
“You love me?” Jeno asks, not quite believing it, not quite trusting his ears. His heart beats against Renjun's, “You love me.”
“Of course, I love you,” Renjun laughs, “I have loved you for a long time too, you know?”
He lets Jeno’s off from his chokehold, hands traveling to cup Jeno’s cheek, kissing him soundly. Jeno returns the kiss, simply loving, loving the way Renjun’s lips feels against his. It’s slow and unhurried, as if they both know that they’ve got forever and more together. Renjun breaks the kiss when Jeno starts to smile into it.
“What?” He asks, beaming.
“Just – ” Jeno exhales softly, “I love you.”
Renjun goes scarlet, hiding his face again in the crook of Jeno’s neck, arms finding their way back around Jeno.
Jeno hugs Renjun back, holding on so tightly that he promises to be sorry about it later. He didn’t care that he did practically nothing at the library, that he got drenched in the rain, that he had to say goodbye to a dog that wasn’t his to begin with. Renjun was there, and even if he wasn’t actually, he magically made everything better anyway. He didn’t need to say anything, he didn’t need to do anything, just by existing, he’s made Jeno entire a thousand times better than he could’ve imagined it to be, even with everything thrown at him, the littlest things that shouldn’t matter – Renjun is his light.
If there’s one thing he’s never going to want to let go, it’s Renjun. And he doesn’t want it to be easy to let Renjun go – he wants it to be the toughest thing he ever has to do, because he never wants to resign to it. He never wants to think that time will heal if he ever loses Renjun. He wants to hold onto Renjun for as long as he can, for as long as Renjun will let him.
“I love you.”
(“I have a question.”
Renjun hums, forking a hunk of potato, “Shoot.”
Jeno swishes his soup around the bowl. His left hand stretches across to reach Renjun’s, a grin on his lips, “What do you think of us… adopting a dog?”
The look Renjun gives him is ice cold.
“Well, not now,” Jeno corrects. He smiles the way he knows Renjun likes, when his eyes turn into crescents, revealing just the top row of his teeth.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Renjun chides, but relents, “What are you going on about?”
“You know,” Jeno can’t contain himself, “When we get our own place. You know – together? In the future.”
Renjun gives him a lopsided smile, “Lee Jeno, you literally just told me loved me today.”
“I know,” Jeno grins. “I’m just – planning for the future.”
Renjun stays silent for a bit, but his ears are a dead giveaway. Quietly, he mumbles, “We should get two so they don’t get lonely, right?”
Jeno tackles Renjun over their half-eaten dinner to kiss his boyfriend sweet.)