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“The press is at it again,” Jaemin raises an eyebrow in question, prompting Mark to continue, “according to this, you and Haechan were highschool sweethearts but he cheated on you and now you’re trying to outdo each other,”
“Sure that’s a laugh hyung but listen to this one, ‘Competitive Models JAEM and HAECHAN Secretly Dating!?’” there’s a chorus of chuckles before Renjun speaks up again, “how much do you wanna bet they’ll have a badly shopped photo gallery, since you’ve never been at an after-party with this guy,” Jaemin just laughs at the prospect of dating rumours with a person he’s never properly met before. Sure, Haechan was a threat to his career and Jaemin had to always one-up them, but he doubted that they would have any favourite locations in common that they could be connected through; maybe they both visited a random coffee shop on a random street and God knows how easily a story could be fabricated according to that.
“How about step-siblings trying to win an eccentric uncle’s inheritance?”
“The one where they’re engaged and have a kid?”
He’s looking through Haechan’s google searches and he has already seen the articles about their most recent photoshoot and a pang of bitterness finds its way to Jaemin’s chest, quickly dispelled by guilt. He can’t be bitter towards someone becoming better than him, especially if the person was doing their absolute best, plus, Haechan was exactly what it was to be a model and Jaemin sighs, that was a topic for another day.
“That’s the fourth time you’ve sighed in the past,” Mark spares a glance at his watch, “two minutes, don’t tell me you have a problem with this?”
“Nah, it’s nothing important, just feeling slightly ‘bleh’ about this whole situation. I mean, they’re just another model but the press seems so intent on pitting them against me and it’s been getting annoying recently, I don’t even know Haechan personally,” Renjun peers at him over the pillow clutched to his chest, eyeing Jaemin’s expressions intently as if trying to figure out if Jaemin will spontaneously burst into tears.
“It’s okay to feel uncomfortable Jaemin, they are dragging your name into a mess you didn’t ask to be a part of,” Mark’s eyes soften, “now let’s get to bed, you have a shoot tomorrow, and I have a date.”
“Jeez ever since I introduced you to Yukhei you’ve been unbearable, not like you weren’t annoying before, mind you,” there’s a teasing lilt to Jaemin’s voice and Renjun lets out a laugh; Mark has indeed been a hundred times more annoying once he had met Yukhei, yet would vehemently deny having a crush on the gentle giant, despite turning into a blabbing mess at the mere mention of his name. However, the gentle giant is very easy to get along with, so Jaemin doesn’t blame Mark for taking a liking to him; if he hadn’t known Yukhei since childhood he probably would’ve fallen for him too.
When morning comes, both Jaemin and Mark are a mess of nerves, though it was mainly Mark’s frantic pacing around the house that made Jaemin uneasy. The elder was going up and down the stairs, looking for his earbuds, muttering under his breath the entire time, all the while Renjun and Jaemin were seated at the kitchen island, taking bites out of their breakfast, eyes intently following Mark. At one point, Renjun leans towards Jaemin, whispering a “should we tell him that they’re on the couch?” and Jaemin roars in laughter, nearly dropping his bowl and falling off his stool, causing Mark to whip his head towards them, giving the duo exasperated looks and Jaemin throws his hands up in surrender.
“I swear I did nothing!” and what complaint that was about to fall from Mark’s lips is interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell. With a quick mutter of I’ll get it , Jaemin leaps off his stool and skids over to the door, socks slippery against the wooden panelling of his floors. A simple look through the peephole confirms his suspicions, Yuta and his brother Jaehyun are standing in front of the door, Yuta deeply absorbed with whatever is on his phone and half of Jaehyun’s face is obscured due to the fact that he was leaning against the doorframe. He takes a deep breath and opens the door, looking forward to starting the day so he can end it with an episode of The Order . Immediately after he opens the door, Yuta pockets his phone and stares him down with an impressive smile.
“Hi sunshine, you ready for the day? If you remember I have you booked for a spring shoot today with another model,”
“Yes hyung, I remember,” he drags out the ending, a smile creeping into his voice as Yuta ushers him to the car where Johnny was waiting and Jaemin flashes him one of his million-watt smiles, to which Johnny replies with a flick of his chin and raising his eyebrows. He really loved Yuta and his boyfriend Johnny, the two were like parents to him, and the fact that they were his elder brother’s childhood best friends didn’t hurt. Once he was comfortably seated in the car with his head leaning on his brother’s shoulder his eyes slipped shut on their own. It had become a routine now, for every shoot, Yuta and Johnny would pick him up with Jaehyun and Jaemin would get to nap for the car ride and Yuta would place a cup of iced coffee in his hand once they had reached and he was woken up; and today was no different, with Yuta handing him an iced americano to help combat the fatigue of a half-hour nap.
His sleep-addled eyes have trouble focusing as the group of four walks into the lobby and Jaemin can mildly feel an oncoming headache at the brightness that seemed to be radiating from every surface. They’re lead to the elevator by a receptionist who informs them that their shoot is scheduled on the fifth floor and the team had just finished setting up. Somehow, anxiety settles into his gut again as Jaehyun ruffles his hair, earning a sharp tsk from Yuta, but he wills it away — he’s been a model for years now and he’s only gotten better, for him to fuck up a simple shoot requires him to completely be off form, and Jaemin can’t remember a day where he hasn’t taken one look in the mirror only to fall into the narrative the outfit was telling, rather than floundering for meaning. So he does what he’s used to, taking a deep breath and willing himself to calm down as the doors of the elevator open to the sight of a crew taking a small break after preparing for what seems to be an intricate shoot.
It’s a flurry of pastels that drowns his senses and he’s left marvelling at the ethereal presentation. There’s a window, surprisingly not covered by a light diffuser, with sunlight streaming through, illuminating a portion of the floor right in line with a low-level camera; the white interior of the building gives the room an angelic feel with colourful flowers peeking through fluffy bunches of cloth shaped to resemble foliage. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve thought this whole ensemble was prepared for a film, rather than a simple photoshoot. A member of staff greets him and Jaemin falls into an automatic bow, attention still captured by the decor. He’s lead to the back where he’ll change and the second the first outfit is presented, he has his role.
He reaches out to lightly skim his fingers across the outfit, the material soft against his fingertips and draping across his skin akin to a Greek statue. The white chiffon bunches at the collar, all fluffed out and from a simple touch, he can only assume that quite a bit of his chest will show from the sheer cloth and he puckers his lips at the thought.
He’s rushed towards a table and his eyes slip shut of their own accord as the humdrum of the set picks up. From the sound of it, the other model has arrived but before he could open his eyes to see who his colleague was, a sponge begins dabbing on his face and all thoughts of the other model fly out the window -- he’s got to be perfect for this shoot. Perfect so he could maintain his reputation for being a heartthrob, the public’s favourite model, the prince of the public. Once his foundation is on, he begins striking conversation with the stylists and all thoughts of his colleague slip away.
Turning to ask Yuta something, it’s only when he bumps into Haechan that he freaks out, his eyeballs bulging from their sockets. Thankfully his shock goes mainly unnoticed due to Jaehyun speaking with someone who he assumes is Haechan’s manager and Yuta is busy on his phone with Johnny nowhere to be found. The first thought that flits through his brain is yeah, no wonder they’re a model , and he’s quick to chase this thought away as he extends a hand in greeting.
“Dang and I thought my secret boyfriend would remember our super-secret handshake,” the teasing tone in their voice reminds Jaemin of the witty exchanges between him and his friends and he grins, lifting his fist for a fist-bump. Haechan looks pleased and all but lands a heavy punch on Jaemin’s fist and he lets out a yelp of shock, causing Haechan to double over in contagious laughter and they end up laughing until their sides hurt.
A stylist drags Haechan away from him and his makeup is given a once over before he’s lead to the back room where he can change into the pants that were shoved into his arms. Once he’s changed into them, someone gently pulls the top over his head and ties the remaining fabric around his neck into a large bow as someone else tucks the fabric into his pants. He’s quickly shoved into a chair as hands begin fluttering around his hair, running combs and sprays through the strands. The rhythmic tug on his hair lulls him into a zoned-out state and by the time he comes to, Haechan is leaning against the wall in front of him, a smile on their face, and Jaemin is absolutely speechless. They’ve dressed them similarly to Jaemin, except that their top was made of soft cotton and gossamer with only the slightest tinge of skin showing through the cloth and the difference in the collar -- while the cloth on Jaemin’s collar was tied into a bow, Haechan’s collar was loosely pleated in a v-shape with a criss-cross pattern of ribbon bringing the two sides of the collar together.
“Wow, maybe I’ll forgive you for cheating on me if you wear this every day,” his mouth works faster than his mouth as he blurts out a remark, causing Haechan to tut in disapproval.
“Damn, you already forgot that we’re trying to win our uncle’s inheritance huh? Looks like it’s as good as mine,” their voice trails off in a sing-song manner before their straighten up and their voice returns to normal, “If it helps, you look amazing too. Also, we have to be out in like five minutes.”
Jaemin grins and sends a small nod their way as he turns to take a proper look at his reflection and the first thought that flits through his brain is prince . There’s a knock on the door frame and the duo come face to face with Jaehyun and Doyoung, Haechan’s manager, who’re looking at them with expectant faces and both models all but leap to their feet, acting like a deer caught in the headlights. There’s a grin on Haechan’s face as they take their places on set.
The shoot goes exceptionally well, their energies and interpretations of their outfits flowing together seamlessly for a smooth shoot. It’s only once they’re done and he looks at the time on his phone that he notices how quickly the shoot was completed successfully. Pride blooms in his chest as niceties are shared among the staff, and he thanks the photographer for her hard work. Amidst all the amenities, he manages to get Haechan’s number and squeeze in some banter before it’s time to leave.
“Hey, don’t forget to tip the babysitter,”
“Why?”
“We’re going out for drinks dummy, to celebrate our first shoot together, I’ll send you the location and you can bring a friend,”
“Sounds good to me,”
“And I said--”
“--Sounds good to me. Yes, we know , this is what? The third time you tell us?” Jaemin’s head slumps on the counter, and Renjun sends a sharp tsk in his direction, “Stop that, you’re going to put a dent in your head, and what’s the big deal anyway? You said you didn’t have a problem throughout the shoot and even bantered with them,”
“That’s the thing, I don’t know why this is bothering me,” a cautionary glare crosses over Renjun’s face and he stammers, “I guess I don’t want to embarrass myself,”
“Which you won’t. May I mention that your entire public persona revolves around a ditzy loverboy or did you forget about that? Point is, even if that was slightly embarrassing, it was directly after a shoot and they would know how hard it is to drop an act that you’re so used to playing. And yes, you would die from second-guessing yourself if it wasn’t for me, you’re very welcome,”
“Why are you this smart?” meaning, Damn You Renjun for making sense .
“Because I actually use my brain. Now go take a shower and take a nap, we have a long night ahead of us. And please do not leave your cane behind this time,”
“ Yes, mother ,” with an eye-roll he gets up, grabbing his empty mug off the island, and crosses the kitchen to dump the mug in the sink. When he turns to leave, he manages to take a peek at Renjun’s laptop and a half-blank page of a document stares back at him as Renjun’s hands motionlessly hang over the keys. It doesn’t take super hearing to hear the gears in Renjun’s head screech in protest and Jaemin pats his head in support, leaving his best friend to his work.
A shower, nap, frantic attempt at smoothing out a cowlick, shriek of “Don’t forget your cane fuckface”, and trying to find a parking spot later Jaemin and Renjun manage to make it to the location sent to him without being too late than the agreed meet-up time. As promised, Haechan also brings a friend of his -- it’s him who notices them, as Haechan is too busy playing a game on their phone.
The guy’s name turns out to be Lee Jeno, and he’s Haechan’s close childhood friend. Lee Jeno is a pretty type of boy, with a square jaw, upturned lips and a crescent smile, all traits which he is a sucker for. He takes to him immediately, even cooing over how he seems to detest being called cute while poking his cheeks.
Conversation flows like wine as they speak of the shoot, filling in the foreign parties about their first time meeting after the attempts of the media to find a label to shove them under. Slowly the topic turns to childhood stories, initiated by Jeno who seems to have ample supply of embarrassing childhood details about Haechan and Renjun begins talking about his own childhood best friend. Jaemin is very close with Yangyang as well and interjects at appropriate times as Renjun describes the idiocies of their infamous trio back during middle school and he’s sure that if they weren’t having this much fun recounting their tales he would probably be looking for a hole to burrow his head in.
At some point, he doesn’t remember when, Jaemin eggs Renjun to send Yangyang a message, asking him to come to the bar, and surprisingly enough he complies, despite the hour becoming late. It’s how the table holds five thousand liners in the middle of the night cracking jokes and making playful jabs at each other. They exchange phone numbers and make the first version of their group chat on Instagram to send each other memes, promising to keep in touch as they part ways.
Spring melts into summer and summer rolls into fall, which in turn becomes winter that fades away for fresh spring blooms. It’s been around two years since Jaemin had met Haechan for the first time and somewhere along the seasons, Jaemin grows extremely fond of the face dotted with constellations. He can’t exactly pinpoint when, but he assumes that the endless phone calls that they have been exchanging throughout the year have something to do with it. Though he really can’t blame himself for finding solace in another thousand liner model like himself.
Simple, easy banter about the press saying shit about them turns to making plans, sometimes with their thousand liner group chat but mainly without, meeting up at small corner cafes, acting like they were a bunch of high profile celebrities, but in reality that’s all they were, two kids pretending to be something big while hoping to be at such a position, though the idea of hiding wasn’t entirely appealing, or appealing at all.
It’s the “hey, are you free tonight?” texts that make his heart flutter, because he knows that they need someone to confide in at the wee hours of the morning and he feels honoured that they trust him enough.
He’s so lost within the bubble that they’ve formed for themselves that he forgets that the press has shoved them into a label of friendly rivals in the name of marketing off of their faces as much as legally possible. It’s Seoul Fashion week and the fall weather is slowly turning quite chilly. He finds himself jumping from one show to another, sometimes as a model and sometimes as a member of the audience, but what does not change is that after every show, a reporter slams a mic into his face and asks him about the so-called rivalry between him and Haechan and if he feels threatened by the rising popularity of the newer model. He’s quick to decline any comment as to not give the press any information to work a fabrication to work with and risk ruining either of their careers.
They haven’t talked throughout the entire week, both of them exceptionally busy with their jobs, and as much as he understands this, he can’t help but miss them. He would never admit it to anyone but once he received the 12 @ our place? text, his heart soared and his mood lifted instantly.
As a model, one would think his favourite place to be would either be the catwalk or in front of a camera, not in the middle of a small bar with a bottle of soju in his hand, swaying on the line between tipsy and sleepy, staring at the face of the most beautiful person on this planet. After a long and exhausting week coupled with pain, he welcomes the burning numbness of the alcohol as Haechan watches him down gulp after gulp of the fiery liquid with a puzzled look on their face. They don’t let him follow the bottle with another one or a drink, pushing his hand down when he tries to order another beverage. His vision isn’t quite swimming yet, but the sense of floating has taken over and that’s when he realises that he’s very pleasantly tipsy when he mutters,
“Let’s go home,”
“Jaemin you’re beyond clear thought processes right now. Come on, let’s take you to my place and we’ll figure something out from there,”
“I love you duckie,” his mouth works faster than his brain and he curses himself for blurting out such a vital piece of information at such an inappropriate time when he can’t even defend his words.
“Sure you do Jaem,”
“No,” he trails off in a whine, “you don’t get it, I love you so much. For real.”
He wakes up in pain, the hangover doubling his sensitivity to pretty much everything. On a good day, he’d wake up with mild sensitivity and could handle himself post-drinking quite well, yet today seemed like hell on spikes. It takes him an hour to drag himself out of bed -- duckie’s bed, he muses, and by the time he stumbles into their kitchen his legs feel like they’ve been doused in ice and his head’s spinning. He drapes himself over their back, arms hanging loosely over their shoulders and allows himself to be dragged around as they move to get some cream and sugar for their coffee.
“I meant everything,” he didn’t mean to blurt it out but the damage was done already. They paused for a moment, shoulders squaring for a split second before turning to face him, a mischevious glint in their eyes.
“Well, I sure hope so you idiot, because last time I checked, we’re married,” next thing he knows, there’s a warm pair of lips on his and he’s on cloud nine, floating in a haze of feelings, heightened sensitivity and mild pain as they cup his face and he balances them with his arms on the counter, allowing them to lazily slot their mouths together.
They celebrate New Year’s Supermodel style: Mariokart, cuddles and wine. It’s around nine in the evening when everyone is at Jaemin’s apartment and have all fallen into default positions. Johnny and Yuta are drinking with Doyoung and Jaehyun out of the balcony, a cigarette being passed between Jaehyun and Yuta, with Doyoung giving them both a cautionary glance, reprimanding the two about not going overboard with only a twitch of his eyebrow. Inside, an epic Mariokart showdown is taking place with six players, Mark, Yukhei, Jeno, Renjun, Xiaojun and YangYang competing to claim the title of King of Mariokart and Jaemin cuddled up against his joyfriend, tuning out the noise his friends are creating.
The king is crowned as the clock ticks incredibly close to midnight, with Renjun taking a solid victory over the rest of them. Those who had been enjoying their night outside have already moved inside to the dining table, continuing their gentle teasing banter over a new bottle of wine that Doyoung brought from Italy.
In the low-level lighting, Haechan looks beautiful and Jaemin cannot stop himself from staring at their features. Their moles are barely visible but Jaemin has developed muscle memory in regards to their positions so when he leans over to kiss each star in the little dipper, his lips land perfectly where they’re meant to, and linger on those on their neck, causing them to whine and gently shove Jaemin off, who simply sends a dazzling smile their way.
“You’re so damn cute, just kiss me already,”
“Your wish is my command,” and he places his lips on theirs.
It’s been almost half a year since they’ve shared their first kiss and he thinks that he’ll never get tired of kissing their lips. Haechan’s lips are soft and feel plush against his chapped ones -- a trait that they complain about often, and are able to make him forget every single one of his troubles. He’s completely and hopelessly captivated by this gorgeous model that has him in their embrace and he’s riding the high of his feelings. It wouldn’t come off as a surprise to him if his heart gave up on the amount of love and care he held for them.
He can vaguely hear the sound of fireworks from the TV as they smile against the kiss and he threads his hands through their hair, pulling them closer together. He’s only had them for two years and a half but if anything happened to them, or anyone in the room for that matter, he’d kill everyone and then himself.