Chapter Text
eros arrived from heaven
wrapped in a purple mantle
—sappho fragment 54
“Jisung-ah?” Jaemin called from the kitchen, worry reflecting from his weary eyes. “Why aren’t you sleeping yet? You have an early flight. You need to rest,” he chided, pouring a cup of milk before heating it in the microwave oven and proceeded to walk towards the lone figure sitting on the sofa with his gaze far off the muted tinges of the television screen.
Jisung was tired, that much he knew, but as he laid counting the shadows dancing about the room he shared with an absent roommate, it paid no consolation to the nameless feeling of dread that continually disrupted his attempt for a few moments of sleep. The weight of the elder awoke him from a trance he was unconscious of perceiving. Nevertheless, he thanked his hyung for the warm cup of milk that now rested between his palms.
Silence crept throughout the room, for Jaemin was always careful in approaching his members’ plights—a trait that earned him the trust of the ever-cautious Renjun before anyone else in Dream.
That did not stop the creases from forming though.
“I feel weird, hyung,” Jisung finally broke, studying the steam from the hot cup. Jaemin responded by turning off the TV and clinging to his favorite dongsaeng, whispering a moderate amount of endearing prompting for Jisung to share more of his quandary.
“I’m meeting his family,” the younger continued, causing the elder to halt his coaxing in confusion.
“We’ve met them before, haven’t we?”
A certain boy’s family had always been particular to the upbringing of their precious star. Thus, after a year of persuasion, the company finally allowed him to inhabit a house his family had bought to deflect his inevitable rushes of homesickness, carefully tended by the loving arms of his mother and aunts.
“This is different. I’m going to invade their home!”
“You’re visiting, dummy,” Jaemin breathed in quiet fondness, caressing the stray locks that shadowed the younger’s expression, “You were so excited since earlier today, what changed? Did you have a nightmare?”
“More on overthinking,”
“What were you thinking then?”
Park Jisung counted too many seconds before he finally succumbed in dwelling on the thoughts that clouded his poor, poor head. They were bad thoughts—thoughts that would often challenge his daily attempts of leaving the bed, but now his insecurities were reaching into a more intimate region of his being. A region blanketed by the feeling of warmth that defied the limitations of human comprehension and it sucked.
“I just feel weird,” he repeated, unable to disclose his apprehensions which worried his hyung more since Park Jisung was often the leading conveyer of multiple concerns—or “useless problems” as Jeno would add even if he was often the first to help the younger with his qualms (He would remember himself though whenever Renjun would call him a “softie” but that would not stop him from caring for their youngest, much to his dismay—“or not,” Renjun would add mischievously).
“Do you want your hyungs to cuddle you to sleep?” Jaemin offered, making the younger pull a face of utter abhorrence, for he knew he would be left neglected—of which he was genuinely thankful for—as his two hyungs continually pester their current eldest member to cuddle with them in a rather compact, single bed.
“How do you even get him to sleep with you two fools?”
Jaemin grinned mischievously, appearing far too proud of his ploys in coercing their eldest to be trapped into their web. Renjun’s too smart for these two idiots, Jisung could not help adding, after the older replied, “Horror movies.”
“He’s not that scared,” Jisung pressed, for he would often accompany his hyung in watching multiple horror movies and although they both had unintentional screaming matches, it was not enough to find Renjun staying at Jaemin’s room three days in a row with Jeno on tow, “Even with your combined brain cell, you two can’t outwit him. Knowing Renjun-hyung, he’s probably doing it on purpose,”
“Even better then,” Jaemin confessed in easy surrender, “at least it’s not manipulation.”
“You’re still both fools,”
“We’re in love, Jisungie,” his hyung said so casually and so sincerely that he didn’t even bother pointing out Jisung’s rather adorable display of shock—and disgust because sharing a dorm with two hopelessly-in-love hyungs (aka MarkHyuck as Chenle would conveniently label) already made him want to bleach his eyes out for catching them in uncompromising positions for far too numerous occasions. With three? It appeared he found himself in purgatory. “At least I’m acknowledging my feelings instead of someone I know living in denial despite being enamored by a certain pretty boy themselves.”
“What? What do you—”
“Park Jisung, why are you still awake? You leave in less than three hours!” Renjun exclaimed, appearing out of nowhere and looking like an angry kitten. Jisung watched the Chinese boy scold Jaemin for allowing their youngest to stay up too late. It was frustrating to see his hyung pulling out his cutesy persona that was slowly winning over Renjun’s exasperations, so he bid them goodnight before they could say another word—or worse—exchange kisses that would forever scar his poor innocent soul. Renjun was adamant to see him in bed and asleep though so he visited Jisung’s room before he returned to their love nest, lighting the star projector their youngest had stolen from the elder's room out of mischief (“You can keep it if it helps,” Renjun held after discovering that his new night light now resided on Jisung’s nightstand, grinning like he knew something Jisung was unmindful of even with the younger's continual insistence that it was nothing but a prank), tucking the purple fleece throw blanket Jeno gave Jisung after a rather chilly night a few days past further into the younger’s grasp, and tickling him a few to help ease his mind.
“It won’t be an invasion when he’s your friend, you fool,” the elder started, “you’re good as long as you don’t keep them awake at night with your snores.”
“You're only making it worse, hyung.”
“They’ll love you and you can understand Chinese enough to—”
“To hear any bad comments?”
“Chenle’s family is very nice,” Renjun pressed, rather insulted at Jisung’s notion that his darling baby’s family would do such a dreaded thing, “You don’t have to worry about that. What I wanted to say was you can show off.”
“My pronunciation’s shit—”
“—language—!”
“—but thanks, hyung,” he finished with a tired grin. Huang Renjun returned a smile, a smile that the two idiots from the other room would die for to be its recipients, but it was solely reserved for his hyung’s favorite dongsaeng, much to the idiots’ dismay.
“He’ll be happy just by the fact that you’re there, Jisungie, and that’s what’s important,” his hyung said, gesturing another soft beam while tickling the younger’s chin, and bade his goodnight, allowing the boy to be left alone with the thought that—yes. Chenle’s happiness would surmount any impending disasters—was capable of surmounting any disasters as stars would continue to glow amidst the lingering shadows of oblivion.
Park Jisung released a breath of relief, smiling at the thought that he would feel the inconceivable warmth, smell the familiar trace, hear the piercing laugh, and see the ever-brilliant beams of his best friend in a mere few hours. Thus, the shadows that haunted him earlier, accompanied with the overbearing thoughts that refused to give him a moment of peace laid still as he clutched the purple fleece further to his comfort, breathing in the warmth that his Renjun-hyung and his two idiotic hyungs had helped him achieve—dreaming of the breaking of a new starlight as tonight's final reprieve.