Chapter Text
The moment the plane touches down in New York, Renjun is tugging his jacket back onto his shoulders from his lap. In the seat next to him, Jaemin stretches and yawns, having been woken up by the jostling of the plane.
“What’d I miss?” He asks, and Jeno, the seat over, rolls his eyes.
“Oh, you missed absolutely so much! The baby in front of us was crying for, like, four hours. I watched the clouds for five hours, bored to death.” He hisses. “But no, continue napping the day away.”
Jaemin yawns once more. “Wow, someone must have woken up on the wrong side of the bed.”
From the aisle across them, Donghyuck attempts to throw a piece of trash at Jaemin’s face. “Some of us haven’t even slept since we were in London about, hmmm, eight hours ago you piece of insufferable shit.”
Jisung, next to him, sighs as he puts his hands to his forehead. “Can we not do this now?” He hisses. “The flight attendant is literally going to kick us out.”
“She can’t do that Jisung, we’re literally still moving.” Chenle snickers.
That shuts up Jisung up, who grumbles before turning back to the window. Jaemin, as if in regret for starting this whole mess, stretches, and then stuffs his sweatshirt into a bag beneath the seat in front of him, crinkles and all as the knowing hum of the airplane’s lights run on.
Donghyuck looks pointedly at him, before choosing to focus his attention on his own luggage. There’s still five different pens in his lap, a pair of headphones lying in the pocket in front of him, and far too many little items thrown around hazardously that Donghyuck will end up losing. Renjun rolls his eyes as he scrambles to throw them all in a bag.
Renjun’s brain is already racing at thoughts about his mental check list. He’s always jumpy when they land. Too excited for the new possibilities that lay beyond customs.Too worried for everything that needs to slot perfectly into their plans.
The first few steps are shaky, and Renjun wonders for a second if he’s forgotten how to walk. The bustle of people swallow Renjun up. He wishes he would have more time to stop and stare; he wants to take notes about the way people act, all smiles and frowns. But there’s no time; Jeno’s on the phone with his cousin about the apartment he’s loaned out to them for the time being, Jaemin’s in the bathroom, putting on dressy clothes because he constantly needs to look presentable, and who knows where the rest are.
He walks up to the front, where they’ve all agreed to meet in case (and most certainly when) they get lost. Chenle and Jisung have magically reappeared in front of Renjun, and appear to be haggling with a taxi driver about the price of taking them seven to the Upper West Side, although Renjun doubts his taxi can fit more than four. A ding from his phone, and Renjun pulls up their group chat, indicating seven new texts, including a rushed one from Donghyuck, indicating that he has absolutely no idea where the hell the rest of them are, just that he’s somehow in terminal 5????
Renjun wonders when he signed up to babysit all of them. He runs back inside, making some sort of a flimsy excuse about his luggage to get back inside the terminals. Once at terminal five, he tramples across the space in search of Donghyuck, who’s looking at sunglasses instead of trying to find a way out. Once he finds Donghyuck, they have to wait in another line just to exit through scanning. They make it back to the main entrance whole, suitcases intact, but just in time to watch a taxi full of his friends leave. Luckily another taxi has pulled up to the curb, and Renjun gets in the front seat, leaving Donghyuck to scamper for the back.
He yells an address directly into the driver’s ear from the passenger seat, and nearly falls into the driver’s seat as the driver swerves to avoid an oncoming car. Swears are tossed around from the driver’s end, and Renjun takes his first breath of fresh air, propping the window open. The airport is always the worst part; the adventure only begins now.
Taking a picture of the skyline, he tags the rest of them on his story and waits for the views to rush in. With nowhere to go in abysmal traffic, Renjun pulls up his DMs, finding several accounts asking for promotions and partnerships. They all seem to say the same thing: Renjun is different, stunning, and that they’d do anything to partner with him. He accepts a few of value and deletes the rest without a second thought.
Bartering is his favorite part of his lifestyle. There’s a certain rush he lives for, of being able to take and reject offers. As his popularity has grown, so have the offers, and Renjun is unashamed to say that he’s made it. He can live how he wants, all for the price of documentation. If his life were to continue this way for the next fifty years, Renjun would be fine with that. He’s happy where he is, with friends that treat him well and cities that never grow old.
In the back of his mind, a voice hisses at him that it’s too easy, that he’s running away from his problems instead of dealing with them. In his mind, he pictures the silhouette of someone left under the rain waiting for him in Seoul, of one in Beijing haunted by images of Renjun everywhere he goes, of a boy in left in London just a few days ago, beautiful flowers still in his hands, offset by the tragic look on his face from the back of Renjun’s taxi.
But it’s all too easy. Has just always been so easy. Even when Jaemin quit, hanging up his flirty nature for a certain model across the globe, Renjun hasn't stopped. He loves the thrill of finding someone new, of figuring them out, up and down.
When the car jolts to a stop, Renjun looks outside his window to find Chenle outside, tapping eagerly. He steps out, and the apologies pile on top of each other.
“We’re so sorry—”
“Jisung said you guys were in the back—”
“I thought you were kidnapped or something—”
“Forgive us?”
Renjun shrugs. “Buy us dinner and we’ll call it even,” says Donghyuck, an arm slung around Renjun.
The apartment is too good. Splendid, by any rate. Renjun wonders how rich Jeno's cousin must be to afford this home as a second to rent out. It's a penthouse suite on the top two levels. There’s four bedrooms; a master downstairs that overlooks a quaint coffee shop bustling with people, young and old. Three other bedrooms can be found upstairs, all equally grand, with their own theme. No matter where Renjun looks, all he sees is the red and browns mixing into the walls; rosy red chairs decorated with carved dragons and placemats fit for a king.
Renjun snaps pictures of the architecture, hoping to draw a different, new following with those pictures. He’s gaining traction, but it’s slower now, and Renjun sometimes wonders when it’ll die. When he’ll be nothing but another face to millions of people across the globe. Jeno frowns as he snaps the photos, annoyed by how Renjun’s using nothing but his cell phone camera and the auto settings.
Once, they’d gotten into a full on argument about auto versus manual, and the difference between taking pictures for your followers to live vicariously through versus for yourself. They didn’t speak for several days after, and sometimes, Jeno’s words go through his mind like whistling in the wind. Jeno’s right at any rate, but Renjun’s stubborn, abrasive and too embarrassed by his own constant pampering to please his audience.
When the sun begins falling from the sky, and the moon props itself up, they all make a beeline for the master bedroom. Compared to the size of the room, the bed is small, and soon they’re all scampering and squabbling. When a few minutes turns to half an hour, Jeno sighs and pulls his phone.
“I’ll know how we’ll sort this out fairly.” He says.
“A random number generator??” says Chenle hopefully as everyone groans. They’ve all learned to never bet against Chenle.
Jeno whips out his phone. “I’ll ask Mark to choose.” He says.
As Jeno dials his number, Jaemin whines. “That’s not fair,” he says, “He’ll pick you of course, you’re his cousin!”
Jeno puts Mark on speakerphone, and they all crowd around, waiting for his response. Having sent Mark a picture of the six of them ahead of time, they wait eagerly. A moment of silence passes between the boisterous boys, and then, Mark calls out, “The pretty one?”
“Suck it, bitches!” Jaemin crows, dropping on to the bed with a fascinating grin as he laughs.
Jeno puts out his hand. “Mark,” he says softly, “Define pretty one.” There’s a moment of pause, and then Mark says “Second one from the right.”
After a few moments of awkwardly saying goodbye, Jeno hangs up to go look at the picture. Renjun counts in his head, one, two ...that’s him. Huang Renjun, standing with his arms around Chenle next to him, other hand pointing helpfully up at the Big Ben.
Renjun pushes Jaemin and his shocked face off the bed, sitting triumphantly. At the sight of their retreating backsides, he calls out, “Bye, uglies!” and laughs as Jaemin charges back in to tackle him to the ground.
The next morning finds Renjun in the kitchen, begging for a picture of Mark from Jeno. He would be lying if he said he was just curious.
“Please?” Renjun holds up another pancake on a plate, and Jeno goodnaturedly grabs it and a plate, utensils already on the table. A cup of water has been poured into a glass by his side, and Jeno takes two giant gulps before answering.
“No.” He pours the syrup to drown his pancakes in, acting as if he has this conversation with Renjun every single day.
“But it’s perfectly harmless!” protests Renjun, who has searched for a “Mark Lee” on Instagram all night much to no avail.
“I’m not giving you a picture of him.” Jeno’s mouth is full when he says this, and Renjun crinkles his nose at the sight of half chewed food.
“Why?” Another sigh from Jeno, but something seems to click in his mind; he gives an affirmative nod, pushing away his plate. “Alright. If you got a picture of him, you’d be asking for his phone number next.”
“And what’s so wrong with that?” Renjun bats his eyes at Jeno, who rolls his own.
“I’m not letting my cousin become one of those boys you find and break to your pleasure. Mark isn’t just anyone off the streets of New York. He’s family and therefore, my responsibility. Find someone else to hurt.”
“What if I promise that I won’t get his phone number if you give me his photo? He can’t be that good looking, Jeno. If anything, keeping his photo from me will make me more curious and then I’ll—”
“—Suit yourself. I warned you already.” Jeno interrupts, clearly displeased as he grabs his phone. A few taps later, and a photo is in Renjun’s hands.
And Renjun knows now from that picture that he can’t possibly follow Jeno’s rules. Mark Lee is gorgeous to say the least. The picture’s a bad one but nevertheless, Renjun needs his phone number, needless to whatever he promised Jeno. Mark’s wearing beat up brown boots, faded jeans and a flannel with light and dark shades of red hanging loosely around his chest. He’s smiling towards the camera, looking quite natural with his hands raised, as if he’s shying away from it.
Renjun knows he’s dipping into dangerous territory. But god, Mark drips in beauty from head to toe. He dresses as if he’s trying to go for the kind of aesthetic only found in old polaroids. Renjun wants to talk to him; he wants to listen and watch those beautiful eyes light up in front of him. Renjun knows that Jeno is technically right, in some sense.
But why must he have to follow the rules?
Mark comes over one day, dressed in a suit and tie while Jeno’s out. When Renjun opens the door, still in his pajamas at three in the afternoon, he suddenly finds himself shy, hiding behind the door. And so does Mark it seems, blushing and stuttering all over the place, clearly remembering his last words over the loudspeaker.
“I came to check up on the place, make sure it’s still in one piece,” He cracks a smile, and Renjun relaxes his tightened shoulders.
“Of course, come in.” He ushers Mark into the living room, and offers to take his coat, making some tea and washing strawberries and blueberries from the fridge.
Jeno would be proud. Look at him, six seconds in, and he hasn’t even asked for a phone number. (He wants it though, has wanted to ask since the first second Mark showed up in full attire, shy and shaken at the front door).
“I’m the pretty one by the way,” Renjun smirks, watching as Mark’s face fills with color and then as he laughs as if he's the funniest person in the whole world. “Renjun Huang.”
“Mark Lee.” His tone is dangerous, as cold as the surface of the table early in the morning, and Renjun knows that Mark knows what he wants.
He decides to take the initiative. Screw waiting for the other; Renjun can break his own rules for him.
“So...now that introductions are set aside, would you like to go out sometime?” Renjun asks, all hesitation thrown aside.
Inside, he coos as Mark blinks a few times. On the outside, he gives a small giggle and brings his full attention back to Mark in present time, warm and cozy on his red sofa.
“I-I’d like that.” A quick smile, and serious Mark is back. “There’s a cake shop that I’ve been hoping to introduce to someone special. Why don’t I pick you up tomorrow; you can document it for that blog of yours.”
Renjun nods, and then pauses with uncertainty. “I never mentioned that I had a blog before…” Mark squirms. “Were you stalking me?” He fake gasps. ”Mr. Lee! How distasteful.”
The glimmer in his eye says otherwise; Renjun loves the attention, and Mark can tell. He leans closer to Renjun, until they’re only separated by the arms of the chair. Then, he leans back into his chair, leaving Renjun breathless under high scrutiny.
A sound from the mud room, Jisung’s deep laughter and Jaemin’s giggles alike, and Renjun has Mark slipping on a pair of Renjun’s shoes and slipping down the fire escape.
“Go!” He hisses, and Mark winks, taking his sweet time to tease Renjun. He has gone down several steps silently and carefully when he suddenly turns around.
“I forgot something,” he says, and it’s over before Renjun even knows. A kiss on the cheek, barely felt by Renjun. The sentiment lies there though, bubbling over with delight.
He hears footsteps in the hallway, and Renjun adjusts the expression on his face. He quickly takes out a sweater from his cabinet, and pretends to fold it over in his lap.
Jaemin leans over the doorway with a bag in his hand. “What’d you do today?” Jaemin asks with a smile and Renjun shrugs.
“I just slept; I think I’ll start going out tomorrow.” Jaemin smiles, and picks up a pair of bags.
“Well, you’ll never guess what I found walking down Seventy Ninth! Look at this!” He proceeds to pull out several pieces of clothing, each with their own backstory. Renjun just manages to nod through the stories, pretending to be fascinated when in reality all he can think about it tomorrow.
What should he wear? The clothes thrown all over the master bedroom say a lot about Renjun's feelings right now. Sweaters lay vacantly dressing the floors, as pants are strewn recklessly across his bed. He’s digging and digging until he realizes his best asset hasn't even left the building yet.
“Jaemin!” He calls down the large hallway, running around the corner. Jaemin, in the middle of eating cereal, merely cocks an eyebrow at Renjun’s disheveled state.
“Can you help me pick out some clothes?” At Jaemin’s hesitation, Renjun pulls out his biggest card. “I’ll tag you.”
And there Jaemin goes, arms around Renjun as he starts flipping through all of his own and Renjun’s clothes, practically excavating pieces from their high school days; pairing a loose dress shirt of blues with some ripped black jeans and a pair of leather shoes.
Renjun shakes his head before he even realizes it. “I don't want to wear that.” He blushes under Jaemin’s scruntant eye. “Can you pick out something softer? Please?”
Jaemin sighs, but brings out loose jeans that he tucks into a yellow sweatshirt. “Wear your glasses,” he commands, and Renjun has a foot out the door soon after.
Mark shows up early; Renjun spots him leaning against the brick overlay, wearing less formal clothes this time. He’s got on jeans, and a green hoodie.
“Hey!” Renjun calls out, waving his sleeve in Mark’s face. “We match!”
“That we do,” Mark winks, and Renjun physically is unable to suppress the blush that rises from his cheeks.
“Lady M’s!” Mark announces as they make their way through the doors of the white cafe, breaking the silence in the shop. Inside, a few cakes decorate the space with color, as chefs in white uniforms wait for instructions. Mark points to the thousand layer matcha cake, and asks for two slices.
With no space inside, they leave and find themselves in a colorful park. Mark sets up the brown paper box there; he’s got a picnic basket with him as well, but they both first choose to have some cake.
“What do you want to do in the future?” Mark asks, and Renjun merely blinks at him. They were talking about their favorite colors just a moment ago; where had this come from?
He shrugs, popping a raspberry in his mouth. “I don’t really have one. Just planning on going wherever the wind takes me.” Red splays across his mouth, and Mark brings his thumb up to clean some of it.
“I hope that the wind will allow me to be taken away with you.” He murmurs, and Renjun clasps his hand into his.
“I think that can be arranged.” It comes out softer than Renjun had hoped and he looks around at anything other than Mark embarrassed. When he looks back to Mark though, he’s smiling, brighter and brighter than Renjun’s ever seen.
When Renjun gets home, he looks through the pictures that Mark had taken of him without complaining. Renjun notes how well he’s taken these photos. The sunlight streams right behind Renjun, creating a halo-like effect. He’ll barely have to do much editing, other than merely popping the colors out the slightest.
He posts it on his story, and then scrolls through his dms where one lee_mark has said thank you.
Renjun types out, thank YOU for the perfect day ...and then deletes the message.
He tries out an i hope to see you some other time! and deletes it just as his thumb is hovering over the send button.
Finally, he types out a no, thank YOU :) and leaves it be, choosing to leave his phone on the desk instead of on his nightstand to prevent any sort of lingering intrigue.
A few days later, Mark shows up before dinner time, a few bags in hand. Jisung looks at the security screen, and nearly doesn’t let him up. Luckily enough, Renjun has just come into the main space, and with one glance, presses the unlock button.
Before Jisung can scold him for letting up a random stranger, Renjun says, “It’s Mark!”
While Mark makes himself at home on the couch, leaving his brown loafers at the door, Jisung catches Renjun in the kitchen.
“How did you know it was Mark?” He asks and Renjun shrugs as normally as he can. He’s washing blueberries and blackberries in a little orange bin that must have been something that Mark picked out. It’s neat. With one push of a button, and the water falls out, leaving behind only the fruit.
“Jeno showed me a picture; I was curious,” he says as nonchalant as he can. Jisung seems to buy it; leaving Renjun to grin openly as he pops open the bottle of wine Mark had brought over.
When Jaemin comes home, Renjun’s mixing a sauce together while Mark looks appreciatively into the foggy glass on the stove. Jaemin doesn’t even mention the man he’s never seen in the kitchen before, merely grabbing a glass of water.
Once they're gathered around the dining room, using ottomans and stools for chairs, Jeno formally introduces Mark.
Renjun sits across from Mark, avoiding the open place next to him. That way, he concludes, he’ll be less likely to be caught staring.
“This is Mark, my cousin!” Mark raises his hand in acknowledgement as the sound of four different greetings sound.
Jaemin however, is the only one speechless, coughing. Once his windpipe is clear again, he says, “I thought you were Renjun's boyfriend, not Jeno’s cousin! Why were you two so close in the kitchen?”
A confused glance is tossed his way from Jeno, and Renjun thinks on his feet. “Oh, you know, I was just being nice. You should try it sometime!”
Dinner is nice even with Jaemin’s outburst; Jeno seems to not notice anything out of the ordinary, even when Mark nearly reaches for Renjun’s hand across the table, before pretending to actually be reaching for the spoon next to his hand. Jaemin and Chenle both shoot suspicious looks at Renjun, but he ignores them in favor of focusing on his food.
He’s playing footsie, as childish as it seems, under the table, a blank expression on his face. It’s nice to finally see Mark the way that Jeno has described him, much shyer than anything Renjun’s seen.
After making a mess, Jeno and Donghyuck clear the table (with rock, paper, scissors) and leave the six left to begin monopoly. Splitting into teams, Jaemin yanks Chenle to be his partner, and Jisung whines because he wanted Chenle.
While they try to figure it out Renjun sits next to Mark.
“Hey stranger,” He says, and a haughty look lingers over Mark’s face. “Nice to meet you! I’m Renjun, one of Jeno’s friends.”
Mark stretches his hand out. “Mark.” His eyes glimmer. “Do you want to be partners?”
A few hours later, and with all the properties having been sold, Renjun can tell that Jeno’s eyes are on him. Mark and him acting suspicious in their own little world, trying to move pieces at the same time, and acting quite friendly. Too friendly. Hands brush against each other as their eyes meet far too fast each time they gain a bit of money.
Renjun has managed to argue his way around rules and the like, creating a monopoly along two sides of the board. Jaemin, down to his last few dollars, dramatically rolls to the ground and whines, “I have children to feed, don’t you feel at least a bit bad?”
Renjun shrugs. “Not really.” He holds his hands out, waiting for the dollars to be handed over.
“I have a” boyfriend to feed threatens to slip out, but he swallows it back in. “Mark. I have a Mark to feed, unfortunately.” Mark blushes at the statement, as if he knows exactly what Renjun was thinking.
Jaemin chuckles. “Right, a Mark.” Jeno shoots him a look that tells him that he’s figured out something if not nothing about what Renjun’s been doing for the past few days.
Once the night is over, Renjun waves goodbye from the kitchen as Jeno escorts Mark down to his car. When he gets upstairs, Renjun’s the only one left by the counter. He wonders if Jeno will blow up at him, and yet, Jeno merely brushes past him as if he isn't in the kitchen.
Another day, another outfit. This one has been delivered from a local store, and Renjun takes the time to shout them out on his story, waiting for a thank you and an offer to roll in. It's a yellow beret, and a blue sweatshirt that Renjun pairs with some light washed out jeans with rips that would have both his parents complaining if they ever saw him in them.
His first meeting is the most fun of the three this week. He’s set an appointment with a fashion magazine to give a short interview. Once on site, they shoot for a few minutes, Renjun’s hands grazing over nice pieces of various shades of clothing he’ll be persuaded into taking home that he’ll end up distributing to his friends. He’s ushered into a cozy chair as the interviewer, Johnny, introduces himself and their classic three rounds of questioning.
In the first round, still sitting on the couch, he gets asked what his favorite color is ( yellow ), his favorite place that he’s visited ( San Francisco ), and his favorite food ( his mom’s tomato and egg soup ). He asks him what his plans are, and he jokes about getting a real job with a wink to the side. Johnny asks him what he brings with him constantly, and he shows them his sketchbook, but only the cover, and makes some philosophical comment about artistry when they try to get him to show more .
It’s only when the morning shade has turned into afternoon burn that Renjun realizes that he won’t be able to make it to Mark and their planned lunch. Within the few minutes that he’s escorted from one scene to the next, he texts Mark a quick message that he honestly should have sent much sooner. As in, at least, three hours earlier.
They lead him to an individual hot pot restaurant, where he asks questions as Renjun throws all sorts of meats and veggies into a bright red pot. Johnny grills him about possible relationships, and Renjun brushes them off without even breaking into a sweat. They say that he’s on the hot seat, but how can he be when he’s practiced for so long? He can almost hear the edited sound effects over Johnny’s question, and suppresses a grin.
He has nothing left but a calm disposition and a pair of steady hands. Japan taught him so. England taught him so. Sitting with his grandmother, side by side as they folded meat into dough taught him so. Playing football on muddy fields taught him so, steady as he would ever be as a ball was kicked his way.
The last round, Renjun soon finds out, is in an ice cream store with the entire camera crew trying to cram into a tiny local store while Renjun sheepishly apologizes to the customers. Thirty minutes later, and they're finally done. Johnny asks to take a few pictures with Renjun, and just like that, he is on his way home, walking as fast as his blistered feet will let him.
He receives a notification from Mark as he’s walking home, but he’s easily distracted, and swipes to dismiss it just as Jeno and Jisung deem it to be family game night. Between making sure no one cheats and none of them try to kill each other (Jaemin jumps over a table to try and strangle Jeno. It would be impressive if not so terrifying), it’s safe to say that he forgets. Just like that.
When Renjun sees Mark next, he’s with Jisung and Chenle, clearly immersed in conversation. Renjun freezes for a moment, before deciding to grab his latte and go without them noticing. Unfortunately, it seems that fate will not allow it, as Mark throws out a piece of trash as the barista calls Renjun’s name. Loudly. His head snaps, and meets Renjun’s eyes just as he’s about to grab the latte.
In shock, Renjun nearly spills it. Luckily, he catches it, and grabs a few napkins before he glances around to their corner again. Mark has just slipped out the door, and Renjun breathes a sigh of relief.
“Hello!” Chenle looks far too happy for that dangerous glimmer in his eyes. Renjun wants to stutter out an excuse and leave, just as Mark had done a few minutes earlier, his hands tucked inside his jacket with a certain bounce in his step.
“We were just talking about places to eat in New York; Mark mentioned that he had just gone to Lady M’s on a date...isn’t that such a coincidence?”
Renjun shrugs. “I’m not sure what you mean.” Inside, he puffs up happily. Mark had talked about them, going to Lady M’s, and called it a date?
“Oh, don’t lie. We can all see your Instagram.” Chenle pulls up his profile. “I have all the evidence here. You went with Mark, didn’t you?”
At that moment, Jisung perks up with a knowing look. “So that's why you knew who was at the door!”
Renjun rolls his eyes. “Yes, you’ve found me. Congrats!" Sarcasm lingers in the air, and Jisung draws away from the conversation to go to the bathroom.
Renjun lowers his voice. “Are you planning on telling Jeno?”
Chenle smirks, “I figured it would be interesting for him to think it out himself.”
“Or…” Renjun drags out the r, “he could never find out?”
Chenle snorts. “Bold of you to assume that you can hide it forever.”
“Who said anything about forever?” Renjun stutters out. His hands draw circles against the wooden smooth table.
“I mean, well, I just think there's something different this time—even with the way he looks at you, as if you’re not just a challenge, something to trap.”
Renjun shakes his head. “Well, I guess we'll see then.” He sounds unconvinced, even to himself.
Chenle reaches his hand out, but Renjun purposefully pulls away. “I gotta go...errands and stuff.” He grabs his bag just as Chenle waves a small goodbye.
Mark is waiting for himself outside. Renjun tries to give him a small smile, but it's clear whatever he wants to talk about is something that's meant to be said in private. They make their way to his apartment, and Renjun can't help the little jump in his step. It's a perfect afternoon.
Once they get to the front porch, Mark slides behind Renjun, as he inserts the code. He pushes the heavy doors open, and takes the route up the two flights of stairs. Once inside, Mark slides his jacket onto the nearest chair. He moves a few steps closer to the window.
Renjun blinks a few times. “I’m sorry about not being able to make it to our lunch. I got all caught up in work. And then I totally forgot that you had texted me.”
Mark laughs. “That’s alright, I understand. We all get busy sometimes. I'm just glad you still like me.”
Renjun wonders how Mark can be so calm. If he were Mark, he’d be angry at him. He’s so kind to Renjun, so good for him. Renjun thinks, well Renjun knows that there’s something more than just like in his heart.
He blurts out an “I love you.” before he can properly think and opens his mouth to fix it when—
“You can't take that back.” Mark laughs, placing his hand in front of Renjun's open mouth. “You said you love me. I heard it myself.”
Renjun waits for Mark to lord it over his head, but all he says back is, “I love you too.”
Still, Renjun doesn't realize how deep he is until a camera is directly nudged at his face. On screen with him are Yuqi and Xuxi, as part of their channel that films challenges and whatever floats across their minds. A successful duo, Renjun has long been used to their silly banter, from all the way before their college days.
So maybe it shouldn't surprise him that Xuxi brings up love. The mere mention of the topic brings Yuqi to cackle at the expression on Renjun's face, which he can only imagine must look like a lost puppy.
“So you have….met someone?” Xuxi wants to dig, and Renjun can’t do it on camera. He shrugs and laughs.
“Something like that, I guess. I’ve met…” Pausing for dramatic effect, Xuxi makes a little drumroll motion.
“The most adorable puppy I’ve ever seen that must belong to one of my neighbors. She’s so cute, and she puts his paws up whenever she sees me through the window.” Renjun sighs. He isn’t really lying—there’s truly a puppy that waves at him every time he leaves the house. He’s talked with his owner, Mrs. Patterson, an old little lady, and she’s agreed to let him walk her dog on the weekdays.
Yukhei groans. “This isn't the type of gossip that'll get us into some drama, come on Renjun, I expected more from you!” He sarcastically shakes his head, before moving on, but not before shooting him a look.
As soon as the camera has turned off, they lead Renjun to the kitchen counter, sitting on the barstools. “Alright,” Yuqi says, waving her hand. “Spill.”
And there Renjun's thoughts go, tumbling off through his mouth and into the world. “I just...I don’t know. He’s nice and sweet, and always gives me time to go out, even if he’s super busy being important and things…”
“But…” Yukhei cocks his head and presses.
“But it feels too good to be real; it feels too fake to be true. I’ve never met anyone who got me so quickly I just can’t believe it’s real, I guess?”
Yuqi scoffs at his remark. “To tell you the truth Jun, I’ve never seen you so happy. I think it's a good thing.”
Yukhei decides to pipe up. “Huang, you need to learn to give yourself to others. I think you should experience a little more whirlwind in your life!”
Renjun thinks that Yukhei is crazy, and his facial expressions must say so, because Yukhei waves a spatula threatening towards him. He ends up ducking, which leaves the batter to fly to Yuqi, who declares a full out food fight in their kitchen.
But even when he leaves covered in eggs and flour, Renjun's still thinking about their words.
A month flies by in the blink of an eye, interlaced with kissing and love whispering in the air, when Jeno finally approaches him.
Renjun has been dropping too many hints; he’s just surprised it took this long for Jeno to explode.
“So what’s up with Mark and you?” Chenle removes himself from the living room, scampering over to the kitchen where Renjun assumes he’ll be gossiping with Jaemin about what’s happening.
Renjun shrugs. “We’re dating, is that okay?”
Jeno rests his hands against his chest defensively. “Fine with me.” His tone is bitter cold. “Did you tell him that we’re planning on leaving in two weeks?”
“Not yet…” He trails off. Before he can come up with an argument, Jeno shakes his head, throwing his hands up.
“You see, this is exactly why I didn't want you dating my cousin. All you’re doing is using him, breaking his heart far more than what is needed.” Jeno sticks a finger at Renjun's chest.
“You're telling him tonight,” He practically growls, and walks out of the room.
Renjun’s hands shakily move things around his room as he tries to settle his beating heart. He knows that he should, knows that it's the right thing but how is he supposed to say anything when they're this happy?
When Mark walks into the apartment that night, everyone explodes with cheers. Renjun's sweaty hands shake with worry. Mark hugs Chenle with a hand before setting down the cake he brought for dessert. He greets the rest of them before turning to Renjun, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
The room explodes. Donghyuck yells, “Alright, hand it over,” as four hands dig into their pockets to slide bills into Donghyuck’s hands.
Renjun blushes, but stays silent, trying to gather up some sort of courage. It takes the whole dinner, nervously glancing at Mark next to him, feeling their interlaced hands set between them.
He finally finds it at the bottom of a few glasses of wine, when he asks Mark to come up to his room. Jisung giggles at the sight of them leaving, and Jaemin shouts, “Don't have too much fun, lovebirds!”
As they climb up the stairs, Renjun thinks about how dangerously close it is to being over. How these nights will be replaced with something awful, something ruinous. He won’t be able to look at his time in New York the same anymore. For wherever he goes, it’ll be Mark, and his actions, his words glaring down at Renjun.
Renjun’s sweating by the time they enter the room. They’re just past the room’s entrance when Renjun says, “Mark, I’m leaving in two weeks.” before he can even get a word in. He rips it off like a bandaid, and Mark crosses his arms defensively.
“Well, that's fine with me! We can always just text and call and facetime, right?” Mark knows the answer, and yet, his optimistic self hopes, waits and wonders if Renjun will say “yes”, like it’ll all be okay, that nothing has changed.
Renjun wants to say ‘yeah, totally.’ He wants to stay here and be with Mark. He wants to be absolutely disgustingly in love.
But instead, he croaks out, ““I don't think we should.” He looks around the room, anything but the sour face in front of him. God, he knew it would hurt, but he didn’t think it would hurt this much, like a bullet to the heart.
“Is this you giving up?” Mark asks bitterly, and Renjun shrugs.
“You deserve better.” His voice cracks, and it's like every breakup that Renjun has had before, but worse. Because this time, he feels bad. He’s regretful of the way things have turned out, the way he's messed up Mark.
But Renjun knows that it would be impossible. Because Mark likes safety. He likes shelter and warmth and things that are clear. He doesn’t like surprises all that much, and has had a planned itinerary most of the times he’s dragged Renjun out. Renjun wants him to thrive, and he knows it can’t, it won’t, it wouldn’t be with him.
Mark sighs, throws his hands up and says in a last ditch effort, “I can't believe this.”
Like an afterthought, he adds, “I knew I shouldn't have thrown all my cards in.”
He slams the door, and Renjun hears heavy footsteps lead down the stairs.
“I still love you.” Renjun's words lay in a vacant batter on the floor, with nowhere to go and no one to listen to. Mark would have listened if Renjun asked him to stay.
But Renjun didn’t.
Renjun crawls to the window and sits by it, a city horizon in his eye’s view. He watches the world work without him; a couple, dancing on the nearest rooftop, surrounded by dazzling lights; a family, sat around a dinner table eating with joyous laughter as company; another boy, far from the city, down by the coast, eating golden food and living the life Renjun always dreamed for. He sees all that and more. But he knows now it’ll never be him.