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Jeno parks at least a block down the road from Jaemin’s house, because everyone at school would recognize his ancient-but-prized set of wheels: a fire-engine red ’71 Toyota Corolla that he’s put too many dollars and hours of labor into to do anything but flaunt it. Mainly he’s proud that it’s still running 12 years later, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t also enjoy the flashiness. Jaemin used to sit in his garage with him when he had to fix an exhaust pipe or rotate his tires, eating gummy worms and flipping through his mom’s old copies of Vogue. Jeno always suggested that he come back another time, because he can’t think of a more boring way to pass time, especially for someone who doesn’t give a damn about cars, but Jaemin always said he needed to be there in case Jeno injured himself. In truth, it was just because he wanted to see Jeno all shirtless and sweaty, grease and the smell of motor oil on his body and all. He told Jeno he thought he looked like “a hot greaser,” and Jeno told him if he said that again, he’d put his shirt back on and never take it off. Secretly, he loved it.
The trek to Jaemin’s house feels like a walk to his death, and he thinks that one way or another, it will be. He doesn’t think Jaemin will ever take him back, but he can at least try. He’s eighteen and stupid and he doesn’t know anything, but he knows that he wants Jaemin more than anything.
It’s a decently-sized house party, more emphasis on the “party” part than the “house” part because it spills out into Jaemin’s front lawn, couples laying in the grass, sharing cigarettes, some girls scattered on the porch, giggling drunkenly, a guy that Jeno is pretty sure graduated high school four years ago trying his best to fit in. As he walks up the driveway, he gets stares and some hushed voices behind him, but he holds his head high and pretends to be unbothered. He doesn’t care what they think, because all that matters is what Jaemin thinks. He honestly never thought he’d get to the point in his life where he’d sacrifice his popularity and reputation just to get a boy back, but now that he has, maybe he should be proud of that. To a high school boy, reputation is everything. To Jeno, Jaemin is everything.
⭑
Jaemin closes his locker and finds himself face-to-face with none other than Lee Jeno. It startles him, because they don’t really talk, in that sense of the word. They’ve had classes together since freshman year and they chat a lot, they flirt just as much, in the way that high schoolers do. In the same way that high schoolers can immediately turn off, disregard every flirtatious conversation and suggestive remark as soon as they’re back with their group of friends in the lunch room, and forget about the guy from the pottery class they’ve been forced to take because every other elective was full.
Besides, he and Jeno don’t run in the same circles. They’re both popular in their own right, but in vastly different ways. Jeno is popular and has a reputation that precedes him, a reputation that consists of breaking hearts (never on purpose), being an absolute ace at every sport, and, if that wasn’t enough, volunteering at the local soup kitchen and donating half his monthly allowance to the animal shelter.
Jaemin is popular in that he’s well liked by everyone, but he keeps a low profile and sticks to himself and his small group of close friends. He’s been known to throw a mean party and loves setting his friends up, because he hasn’t been able to find a romantic partner of his own. As much as Jeno is a handsome devil who leaves boys and girls alike with crushed hearts in his wake— though they can never hold it against him, for he’s far too kind— Jaemin has taken on the role of school matchmaker and his success rate is exceedingly high, a direct result of him getting to know nearly every student in their high school in a way that no one else can quite manage. Of course Jaemin has always wanted a sweetheart of his own, but the time has never come for him. He’s sure that it will.
He’s not sure if it’s meant to come in the shape of a certain Lee Jeno, who is leaning up against his locker and giving him those eyes that make Jaemin’s knees shake.
“Hey,” Jaemin says cautiously, because the two have never interacted outside of class, and Jeno grins.
“Hey.”
Jaemin bites his lip. “Are you… looking for someone?”
Jeno’s smile only widens. “You,” he responds, and Jaemin blushes.
“Well, you found me,” he mumbles, and Jeno shrugs.
“Can I walk you home?”
“It’s kind of far,” Jaemin says.
“Even better.”
Jaemin laughs and then Jeno does too, extending his hand toward Jaemin, palm up. Truth be told, he’s not used to anyone being so straightforward with him. He takes it.
Jeno doesn’t let go of Jaemin’s hand for the entire walk, and it takes a long time for Jaemin’s wild heart to stop beating so fast. Jeno is warm and strong and bright, and despite Jaemin swearing to himself he’d never fall for him— for Lee Jeno, who is notorious for breaking hearts, Lee Jeno who has just gotten out of a year-long relationship with the most popular girl in school, Lee Jeno who is known to kiss and tell, Lee Jeno who is holding his hand and offered to carry his backpack for him and seems purely unbothered by the fact that Jaemin’s house is a solid mile from the high school— he thinks he already has.
They go the back way, down a dirt road that’s even less frequently traveled by cars than it is by people, and when they pass a field of wildflowers Jeno stops, letting go of Jaemin’s hand for the first time. He crouches, seeming to be evaluating the pick of flowers he had in front of him, and after a beat he selects a brilliant purple flower that stands a little taller than the rest. He gets back on his feet and hands it to Jaemin, who blushes deeply and takes it gratefully.
“Purple is my favorite,” he says in lieu of a thank you, and Jeno smiles. When Jaemin gets home, he presses it between the pages of his diary. He’s too lovesick and dreamy to write a proper entry, so he just dates it and scribbles ‘walk home with Jeno’ at the bottom.
He goes back and looks at that page more often than he’d like to admit.
⭑
When Jeno finally climbs the three short steps to Jaemin’s porch, he reaches to open the door and nearly stumbles forward when it swings open before he even gets a chance to. He catches himself at the last second, and when he straightens himself out he finds himself face-to-face with Lee Donghyuck. All of Jaemin’s friends are terrifying, because they all would probably commit murder for him and they’re wary of anyone who they think might break Jaemin’s heart.
Jeno was never supposed to be on that list.
But Donghyuck is the scariest of them all, and Jeno knows for a fact that he’s scrappy— He picked a fight with Wong Fucking Yukhei, the goddamn quarterback, because he made Mark Lee sad on accident. Jeno prays he makes it out of this with all his limbs attached.
“No fucking way,” Donghyuck says, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, blocking the entrance to Jaemin’s house. Blocking Jeno’s path to Jaemin.
“Donghyuck, please,” Jeno begs, and Donghyuck regards him coolly.
“Don’t ‘please’ me. You should have thought about that before you—”
“I’m here to apologize!” Jeno interrupts, “Really, I am! I can explain everything, if you would just let me talk to him…”
Donghyuck raises an eyebrow. “Admirable performance,” is all he says, and Jeno wants to die.
“Donghyuck, I swear. I never meant to hurt Jaemin, ever. I would never do that on purpose. I would never do that to him.”
“You should have thought about that before you did… everything you did. You fucking crushed him, Jeno. He was so happy with you, and then you fucked up everything, and he’s not the same anymore. You hurt Jaemin, and you took my best friend away. So fucking scram before I get someone to kick your ass.”
Jeno is wracking his brain, trying desperately to come up with something to say when he hears a sound he’s been waiting all this time to hear.
“Hyuckie, what are you doing up there?” At the sound of Jaemin’s voice, Jeno perks up like a puppy, and he stands on his tip-toes to search over Donghyuck’s head, looking desperately for its source.
“Nothing, Jaem, don’t worry,” Donghyuck calls back, glaring at Jeno all the while. But Jaemin is stubborn and Jaemin never listens, Jeno knows this well, and he comes up the basement stairs to stand behind Donghyuck anyway.
“Hyuck, what’s—” Jaemin freezes when he sees Jeno, and Jeno’s heart stops. He attempts a small smile, and Jaemin stares at him, looking bewildered. It hurts, but Jeno knows he’s not allowed to be hurt. Not after everything. “What’s he doing here?” Jaemin hisses to Donghyuck, like Jeno isn’t two feet in front of him, and Jeno supposes he deserves that.
“He wouldn’t leave, Jaem, I promise I tried.” Jaemin grabs Donghyuck and pulls him further into the house, leaving Chenle to step forward and guard the door. There’s an uncomfortable feeling settling into Jeno’s bones as he watches Jaemin and Donghyuck whispering furiously to one another, casting glances his way occasionally. He tries to give Chenle an apologetic smile, and Chenle rolls his eyes and looks away.
Jaemin and Donghyuck’s impromptu meeting ends, and Jaemin shuffles back over to the door, Donghyuck at his heels. He whispers something in Chenle’s ear, and Chenle glances at Jeno once more before nodding and stepping away. And now it’s everything Jeno has dreamed of, everything he’s pictured for weeks: him standing on Jaemin’s porch, and Jaemin in front of him, regarding him anxiously. It makes Jeno’s heart hurt that he could ever make Jaemin feel this way. All he wants, all he’s ever wanted, is to make Jaemin happy.
⭑
“Look at me,” Jeno begs with a tinge of frustration, and Jaemin finally does, albeit shyly. He knows what’s coming, and part of him thinks he’s not ready, but most of him knows that he is.
“Sorry,” Jaemin mumbles, and Jeno smiles.
“It’s okay.”
They’re sitting on Jaemin’s front porch, Jaemin’s mom’s little portable radio between them. Sometime in the past five minutes their talking dwindled into just staring at one another, and then Jaemin looked away. He doesn’t even remember what they had been talking about. The Style Council’s ‘You’re the Best Thing’ is playing quietly and it’s making Jaemin feel like the star of his own movie. And isn’t he?
“Jeno…” he starts, because he wants to say something but he’s not quite sure what.
“Yeah?”
He hesitates. “Don’t… don’t make me regret falling for you,” he whispers, and Jeno gives him a soft smile.
“I won’t,” he says.
“Okay,” Jaemin responds in a tiny voice, and their faces are so so close together and Jaemin really can’t breathe.
“I won’t,” Jeno repeats. He takes Jaemin’s face gently in his hands, cupping it like Jaemin’s the most precious thing in the world. Right now, to Jeno, he is. Jaemin’s eyes flutter shut, and without a touch of hesitance, Jeno kisses him. Jaemin thinks he sees fireworks behind his eyelids.
Paul Weller sings “You’re the best thing that ever happened— So don’t go away,” and those words melt into Jaemin’s soul.
“Did you hear him?” Jaemin asks when they break apart, lips swollen and hair messy and out of breath. Jeno cocks his head questioningly, a little out of it because Jaemin is good at kissing and he thinks he knows how he wants to spend the rest of his days. “The song,” Jaemin clarifies, and Jeno lights up in understanding.
“I did.”
Jaemin wants to say ‘that’s how I feel about you,’ but it’s not coming out, so he settles on “Good,” which comes out weaker than he wants it to. Jeno seems to understand anyway. He kisses Jaemin again, and he murmurs “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good,” Jaemin repeats in a whisper. He believes him.
⭑
“What do you want?” Jaemin asks evenly, wrapping his arms tightly around himself. He looks so small and fragile that Jeno wants to simultaneously kiss him better and run away and never look back for fear of breaking him completely.
“I came to… explain,” he says eventually, swallowing, and Jaemin just blinks at him.
“Explain what? I think it’s pretty self explanatory, Jeno. I don’t need a recap of you breaking my heart. Living it once was painful enough.”
Jeno’s stomach drops. He knew, he knew , that he had broken Jaemin’s trust and ruined their relationship— whatever kind of “relationship” that might have been, because Jeno was a coward and an idiot and never even tried to put a label on what they had— but hearing it from the one person he never wanted to hear it from makes it all too real, and he can feel his world crumbling around him.
“Jaemin, listen,” Jeno pleads, and Jaemin rolls his eyes.
“Listen to what, Jeno? I know exactly what happened. You promised, you swore to me that you’d be at the spring dance, and then you stood me up.”
“I was there! I was there, Jaemin, I was late but I was there. I was looking for you, I—” He swallows. “I brought you a flower,” he finishes in a whisper. “I was late because I realized that I should get you, like, a corsage or something, but by then it was too late, and I had to do the next best thing and I snuck into my neighbor’s garden and stole a violet. Your favorite, right?” Jaemin is looking at him in disbelief.
“Even if that’s true—”
“It is! I swear, Jaemin. I wouldn’t lie to you.”
“Even if that’s true,” Jaemin continues, “You never came and found me! I waited for you, Jeno. You never came.”
“I did!” Jeno insists. “I hate crowds and I was nervous and I know I was late but I got there and… You were dancing with him.” He doesn’t have to say who, and Jaemin’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “You asked me to meet you there, and… You danced with him,” Jeno repeats, his voice cracking.
“Jeno,” Jaemin says, taking a step closer to him— closer, but not close enough. “Jeno, I waited for you. He asked me to dance three times and I said no the first two, because I thought you were coming, but then you didn’t, so yeah, I danced with him. I had every right to. They played our song, you know? It was supposed to be our song and you were nowhere to be found. I waited for you, Jeno, and then when someone who clearly cared about me enough to show up on time and formally ask me to dance offered, can you blame me for accepting?” Jaemin’s voice is firm, but his eyes are watery and all Jeno wants is to hold him. He’s silent, because he doesn’t know what to say to that. There’s nothing he can say.
⭑
“Who was that?” Jeno asks as he slides into the seat next to Jaemin in the library, who is chewing on his lip and working on some math problem. He hardly even looks up at Jeno when he responds, “Just a friend. He’s from my math class.”
“Hmm,” Jeno says, and even in that one syllable Jaemin can hear distaste. He finally does look up from his work, and he’s not surprised to find that Jeno’s brows are slightly furrowed. He reaches to press his thumb between them, smoothing the wrinkles that have formed there from Jeno pushing his eyebrows together is some form of possessiveness.
“Jen, relax. He’s just a friend. You know I only have eyes for you, anyway.”
“I know. I know,” Jeno huffs, “It’s not you. I don’t think he knows that, though.” Jaemin doesn’t say anything, and something clicks. “Has he asked you out?” Jeno demands, and Jaemin sighs.
“He has before, yes.”
“And what did you say?”
Jaemin looks at him incredulously. “I said no, dumbass. I said I liked someone else. Chill.”
Jeno is pouting so sweetly, and this is the first time Jaemin has seen this side of Jeno— the side of Jeno whose claws come out when someone is a little too close to the thing he holds dearest.
Jaemin kisses Jeno, and it’s just a peck but it’s enough to get Jeno to slightly un-ruffle his feathers.
“I just don’t want you to like someone more than me,” Jeno admits guiltily, and Jaemin laughs.
“Don’t worry about it, Jen. You’re the only one that matters to me. Got it?”
“Yeah,” Jeno says softly, and Jaemin kisses him again.
⭑
“Are you going to try and explain away her, too?” Just the mention of her makes Jeno wince, and Jaemin glares at him. Jeno knows he has no right to be uncomfortable. Not after everything.
“Yes,” Jeno rasps, and Jaemin exaggerates a sigh.
“Go on, then, I’m fucking dying to hear you talk your way out of this one.”
“Okay, Jaemin, listen, I was at her house, okay?” He’s desperate, and Jaemin doesn’t care.
“I’m aware, Jeno,” he says drily, “Like fourteen people saw your car in her driveway.”
“No, listen. I was driving home, and then she was walking by— I wasn’t going to stop, but then she waved me down and we started talking and then… she asked me to drive her home, and I did, and then she asked me to stay for dinner, and I did , and then—”
“And then what? She kidnapped you and held you hostage in her basement overnight? She blackmailed you into staying the night? She threatened you? What did she do, Jeno? Please tell me, I’d love to know.”
Jeno runs a hand through his hair frustratedly. “I know! I know it looked bad, it was bad, but it’s just… we dated for a year, Jaemin, and I don’t have feelings for her anymore, I swear, she means nothing to me, but I know her family so well— they were always so nice to me, treated me like their own son, and I still have a lot
of respect for them. And I know they still want us to be together. And then she asked me if I wanted to stay in front of them, in front of her parents and her little sister, and I… I couldn’t say no,” he finishes in a whisper.
“That is maybe the worst excuse I have ever heard,” Jaemin retorts. “If she means nothing to you then you should have had no issue saying ‘No’ and leaving.”
“I know, Jaemin. I know, and I’m sorry. I’m just… I’m so bad at saying no to people. She asked me in front of her parents, and I knew that if I said no, they’d be disappointed, and I can’t stand disappointing people. I really can’t, and she knows that… I’m sorry, Jaemin. It’s a horrible excuse and I promise you it will never happen again. You know… you know she’s always been good at taking advantage of me.” He doesn’t say that for pity or anything of the sort, he says it because it’s true and he wants so desperately for Jaemin to understand that. He registers someone behind him making a sharp intake of breath, but he doesn’t care if that makes it back to her. Honestly, he kind of hopes it does.
“I’m supposed to be the only person you can’t say no to,” Jaemin whispers, and Jeno feels absolutely shattered.
“You’re the only one that matters,” he insists, and Jaemin looks away, kicking anxiously at the floor.
⭑
“Jaemin—”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Jeno.”
“Jaem, we have to.”
Jaemin doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to talk about the scathing comments Jeno’s ex made to him in English class, barely disguised as the ‘teasing’ she dismissed it as to the teacher, who was so genuinely concerned for Jaemin’s wellbeing that she intervened. It was humiliating for Jaemin for so many reasons— the fact that Jeno’s ex could get under his skin, even though he promised Jeno he didn’t care what anyone thought or said, the way that he couldn’t come up with a single response to defend himself, the way his English teacher was being far too kind and definitely exceeding her pay-grade when she scolded her and forced her to leave Jaemin alone, the way Jaemin left class halfway through because he felt eyes on him everywhere and hid in the bathroom until the bell rang. He doesn’t want to discuss any of this with Jeno, because he’s embarrassed enough that it even made its way back to him.
Jaemin does something he hasn’t done since he was a child— he crawls into his closet and sits up against the wall, underneath all his jackets and sweaters (including several of Jeno’s that have made their way into his wardrobe in one way or another), pulling his knees to his chest. He wants Jeno to leave, but he knows he won’t.
And of course, Jeno follows Jaemin into his closet, imitating Jaemin’s position, scooting up next to him and letting Jaemin lay his head on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” Jeno says quietly.
“It’s not your fault,” Jaemin responds immediately, and Jeno smiles wistfully to himself.
“I know. But you shouldn’t have had to go through that.”
It takes a while for Jaemin to come up with a response.
“You aren’t… embarrassed?” This idea disturbs Jeno, and he turns abruptly, jostling Jaemin’s head off his shoulder and making Jaemin meet his eyes.
“Jaemin, I would never be embarrassed by you. I’m embarrassed that I ever dated her. I’m embarrassed it took me so long to ask to walk you home. But I would never, could never be embarrassed by you.” He swallows. “You’re… the best thing, I think,” he finishes, shoddily paraphrasing Jaemin’s favorite line from what he’s deemed ‘their song,’ and he blushes as he does so. It’s not like him to be so romantic, but Jaemin makes him want to be. Jaemin makes him want to be a lot of things, one of which is to be in a real relationship with him, but for some reason every time Jeno tries to ask he gets distracted by the way Jaemin’s eyes shine like they’re reflecting all the stars in the sky, and then his chest tightens up because the fear of losing Jaemin is so, so real to him. He knows Jaemin would never say no to him, but the fact that it’s even a possibility — it makes the words die in his throat every time, including now. He has too much experience with people leaving, people breaking commitments to him— his father, his brother, his ex. If he has to add Jaemin to that list, he’ll break. So he just kisses Jaemin, because what he can’t say in words, he can try to say through his kisses. He knows that Jaemin always knows exactly what he wishes he could say, anyway.
⭑
“Why can’t you just tell her to leave you alone?”
“It’s… complicated,” Jeno says weakly, and Jaemin snorts.
“It sounds pretty simple to me,” he responds. “Did you at least think about me before you fucked her?”
At the mention of sex, Jeno straightens, and he seems genuinely surprised. Genuine enough that Jaemin falters, and for the first time, a shadow of doubt is cast over his iron-solid resolve.
“We didn’t— you thought we had sex?” And now Jaemin regrets his split second of doubt, because he’s pissed that Jeno even has the audacity to imply that Jaemin would— could— think anything else.
“Of course I thought you had sex! Your car was there at eleven p.m., and it was there at eight a.m. the next day! Why else would you be there?”
Jeno scratches his head uncomfortably. “Jaemin, I did stay there overnight, and we slept in the same room, but I slept on the floor and nothing happened, I swear to god. I promise you, nothing happened. I wouldn’t ever even think of doing anything with her. You— you mean too much to me.”
It’s strikingly silent, and Jeno is hit with the painful reminder that everyone at Jaemin’s party, a.k.a., half of the student body, is watching this go down. Jeno isn’t one to hash out his issues with anyone in front of an audience, but he owes this to Jaemin. He owes it to Jaemin to suck it up and grovel and beg for his forgiveness, even if the whole world is witness to it.
“So you’re trying to tell me that you were lying next to her, and you were thinking of… me?” There should be a cut to Jaemin’s voice, a bite, this question should be sarcastic, but it’s not. Jaemin seems confused— hurt, still, but also confused.
“Yes,” Jeno insists, “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m trying to tell you. I couldn’t— I wouldn’t—” He throws his hands up, because he doesn’t know what else to say.
⭑
“Are you fucking crazy?”
From the ground, two stories below Jaemin’s bedroom with a handful of rocks in his palm, Jeno grins.
“Why don’t you come down and find out?”
“We have school tomorrow,” Jaemin hisses, and Jeno shrugs.
“So?” Jaemin doesn’t have a response for that.
He goes down there anyway, creeping past his parents’ closed door, down the stairs and out the back door, just for a chance to be with Jeno again. Jeno presses him into the grass and kisses him like he’s never kissed Jaemin before, and Jaemin is almost delirious by the time they’re done.
“Jesus fucking christ,” Jaemin pants, rolling out from under Jeno and propping himself up on an elbow.
“Sorry,” Jeno replies, not sounding sorry at all, “I missed you and I couldn’t wait.”
Jaemin rolls his eyes, but he can’t deny the way his stomach turns into butterflies when Jeno says that.
“Yeah, well, if you did that to me at school I think we’d have to charge people to watch.”
“Are you into that?”
Jaemin’s jaw drops. “It was a joke, Jen.”
Jeno pouts. “You’re always joking about us, Jaem.” He says it like he’s kidding, playing around, but Jaemin can tell he’s truly slightly chagrined. He’s chagrined, too, just from the implications of Jeno’s words.
“No I’m not. Jeno, what are you talking about?”
Jeno shrugs, flopping onto his back and looking away. “Nothing.”
Jaemin crawls on top of him, straddling him and cupping Jeno’s face in his hands, forcing him to look at him. “Hey. Don’t be stupid, Jen. What’s wrong?”
Jeno bites his lip. “It’s just… I never know if you mean it. I always think you do, but… I don’t know. All I know is… people leaving me. No one ever really means what they say to me, because if they did, they would still be here. I’m sorry,” he finishes helplessly, wrapping his hands around Jaemin’s wrists. Jaemin looks down at him and Jeno thinks he looks like an angel.
“I mean everything I say to you,” Jaemin says quietly, and just like that, Jeno’s worrying is quelled. Jaemin is different from everyone before him, and Jeno knows that.
“Kiss me,” Jeno demands, and Jaemin smiles.
“Only if you promise never to say something that preposterous ever again.”
“I promise,” Jeno says impatiently. He sticks up his pinky and Jaemin links his own around it. “Promise.”
⭑
Jeno holds a hand out, palm up, the way he used to when he would meet Jaemin at his locker and take Jaemin’s hand before walking home. Jaemin is incredibly hesitant, but he places his hand in Jeno’s, and Jeno lets out a small sigh of relief.
“Jaemin,” Jeno says, meeting Jaemin’s eye again, and Jaemin doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t leave or look away, either, and Jeno thinks that has to be be a good sign.
“I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry for being late to the dance and missing our song. I’m sorry for letting myself get sucked into spending time with my ex, time I would have much rather spent with you. I’m sorry for hurting you and breaking your trust and fucking everything up.
“I know I’m a moron. I know. I’m terrible with relationships and feelings and… everything like that. I don’t pick up on hints or clues and I always say the wrong thing at the wrong time. Sometimes things just go right over my head. But I’m trying, I swear, I’m trying. You deserve better, you deserve the world, and I’m clueless but I know that. I want you more than anything and I will keep trying, I will never stop trying, to do what’s right, to treat you right. I’ll do anything for you. I know I can’t fix this right away, but I can try. I’ll do everything I can to make it up to you. I know that I’m just an dumb eighteen-year-old boy and I don’t know anything, but I know I miss you. I know that I need you. I know that you mean everything to me.”
Jaemin is staring at him with wide, tear-filled eyes, and Jeno hopes beyond hope that it’s a good sign.
“Jaemin… will you have me?”
Jeno can hear his heartbeat in his ears as he waits for Jaemin’s response. All he wants is Jaemin. Nothing else matters.
“Jaemin?”
Jaemin just keeps looking at him, right into Jeno’s soul, he thinks, and he swallows uncomfortably. It’s all riding on this. Everything is riding on this.
“Jeno, you bastard,” Jaemin whispers, and Jeno opens his mouth to respond, and then Jaemin is pulling him closer by his out-stretched hand, throwing his arms around Jeno’s neck and kissing him.
Jeno is so relieved that he could cry, and he does, a little, tearing up as Jaemin sucks on his bottom lip and threads his fingers through Jeno’s hair for the world to see.
“Is that a yes?” Jeno asks when they break apart, and Jaemin laughs. He fucking laughs , and Jeno is such a dope that he smiles, too.
“Yes, Jeno. I’ll have you.” Jeno beams.
And then, because this has all taken place on a very public scale, there’s a cheer. Someone wolf-whistles, and then suddenly everyone is clapping, and it doesn’t feel real. Even Donghyuck is smiling, and Jeno has never been happier.
When their song comes on, which Jaemin thinks is fate and Jeno knows is because Chenle discreetly switched the tapes, Jeno leads him to the middle of his own front lawn and they dance, the way that they should have in the middle of the gymnasium. Somehow, this is better. Jaemin kisses him again, and again, and at some point he murmurs something into Jeno’s ear and leads him inside.
“Did you really mean it?” Jaemin whispers as Jeno crawls over him in bed, tracing his fingers along Jeno’s jaw, and Jeno gives him a questioning look.
“Did you mean what you said on the porch?” Jaemin clarifies, biting his lip. It breaks Jeno’s heart all over again that Jaemin even has to ask.
“Of course I meant it, Jaemin. I meant everything I said to you. I’ll tell you every day, if you want. As long as I can have you.”
Jaemin blushes and looks away, smiling to himself before he meets Jeno’s gaze again.
“You don’t have to. I believe you. Just…” He trails off and Jeno hopes that what he thinks is coming next is true. “Just show me,” Jaemin says so quietly that Jeno nearly misses it, and now they’re both blushing.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, Jeno. I’m sure.” Jeno smiles softly before he catches Jaemin’s lips with his own, letting Jaemin wrap a hand around the back of Jeno’s neck and pull him closer.
Jaemin’s hands start to wander, sliding tentatively underneath Jeno’s shirt and letting his fingers brush over Jeno’s skin. Jeno pulls away for a second, and Jaemin pouts, but then Jeno takes his shirt off and the frown falls right off Jaemin’s face, replaced with a shy smile that Jeno wants to fawn over.
“Come here,” Jaemin demands, and Jeno goes, choosing to kiss along Jaemin’s jaw before biting on Jaemin’s lip all over again.
Jeno’s fingers find their way to Jaemin’s zipper, and he undoes Jaemin’s jeans before gently sliding his fingers underneath his waistband. He starts to pull Jaemin’s pants and underwear off at once, and when he gets just a couple centimeters down Jaemin breaks away from him.
“I’m— I haven’t done this with anyone,” Jaemin admits suddenly, and Jeno pauses abruptly.
“Really?”
“Yeah… is that okay?”
“Of course it’s okay, sweetheart.” Jeno has never called him that before, and Jaemin turns even redder than he already is. “But… are you sure you want… me?” He’s not quite able to get all the words out, and Jaemin seems to understand that.
“I want you to,” Jaemin murmurs, “I want it to be you. Promise.” He raises a hand between them, sticking out his pinky, and Jeno gives him a rueful smile before linking his own pinky around Jaemin’s.
“Promise you’ll tell me if something doesn’t feel right, or you change your mind?”
“Promise,” Jaemin repeats, and Jeno gives him a peck on the cheek before he remembers something else.
“Shit, Jaem, I don’t have—”
“It’s okay,” Jaemin interrupts him, fumbling around his nightstand and grabbing a condom, handing it to Jeno and thoroughly surprising him.
“You have these?” Jaemin rolls his eyes, but he can’t stop the light blush that colors his cheeks.
“Yeah,” he mumbles.
“You’re sure you haven’t done this before?”
Jaemin glares at him. “I got them…” He coughs and then clears his throat. “I got them before the dance.” Jeno’s eyes widen.
“You were that serious about us? Even then?”
“I’ve always been serious about you, Jeno. Don’t tell me you never were.”
“No, I— I always wanted to be serious with you. I should have told you. I should have asked you.” He bites his lip. “Jaemin, do you want to go steady with me?”
Jaemin just blinks at him. “Are you—”
“I’m sorry. I know. I know it’s too little, too late, and I’m sorry, I just… I was scared you’d say no,” Jeno admits, and Jaemin can see from the way his eyes widen that it’s taking everything in him to bare this part of his soul to Jaemin. He softens even more.
“I would never say no to you,” Jaemin says softly, and Jeno breathes a sigh of relief. “Jeno, I wouldn’t. You mean the world to me.”
“I know. I knew, I just…”
“I’m not leaving, Jeno,” Jaemin interrupts, because he already knows. It’s not like Jeno has ever explicitly said he has abandonment issues (and Jeno would probably never speak to him again if Jaemin even thought those words around him), but Jaemin is nothing if not empathetic and observant. He knows just from the way Jeno talks about his dad and his brother that even though Jeno waves it off and pretends to be unbothered, it tears him up inside to know that the people he’s cared most about have left him. Jaemin knows that Jeno can’t take one more person leaving him, but he also knows that he doesn’t plan on leaving Jeno ever.
“Okay,” Jeno whispers.
“Now is really not the time for this,” Jaemin says, but there’s a lilt in his voice that suggests he’s not being too serious, and he’s beaming. Jeno laughs a little.
“I know. We should have talked about this forever ago. I should have asked you forever ago. But I’m— I’m serious about you, Jaemin. You’re all I want.”
“I’m serious about you, too, Jeno,” Jaemin responds quietly, threading his fingers through Jeno’s hair and looking him directly in the eye. “I’ll go steady with you. It’s about damn time, too. I’ve wanted to since the first time you talked to me in pottery class.”
“Really?” Jeno’s lit up like a puppy all over again, searching Jaemin’s face for any sign of hesitance, any sign of insincerity, but he can’t find it.
“Really,” Jaemin says, and then, with a tinge of incredulity, “Jeno, really. I wouldn’t let you do… this if I wasn’t serious. I want you to be my first. But you have to promise me, Jeno, that it stays like this for… for as long as it can. Don’t break my heart again, Jeno,” he finishes, his voice trailing into a whisper, and Jeno smiles softly down at him.
“I promise,” Jeno says, “Jaemin, I promise.”
Jaemin smiles back at him. “I believe you,” he whispers, and Jeno kisses him again. He lets himself get carried away kissing Jaemin again, because he thinks he could kiss Jaemin for eternity, but he stops before they get too into it because there’s something else he wants to do with Jaemin. Jaemin starts to pull his pants off, finishing what Jeno started, and Jeno helps him, discarding them somewhere on the floor. Jaemin still has his shirt on, and even half-naked Jeno doesn’t think he’s ever seen anyone as beautiful as Jaemin. He doesn’t think he’s ever wanted anyone as bad as he wants Jaemin.
And Jaemin feels the same. He’s never done this before, and he’s scared, but he’s excited, too. He trusts Jeno to take care of him, and all he wants is to give himself up to Jeno. To give him his everything. Jaemin’s heart is nearly beating out of his chest, but in a good way, and it gets wilder when Jeno places his hands gently on his hips.
“Have you, um…?” Jeno starts, a little too shy to articulate exactly what he wants to ask, but Jaemin knows anyway. Jaemin always knows.
Jaemin’s cheeks are flaming as he responds. “Yeah, I have. Um… There’s— there’s… in the drawer,” he manages to get out, and Jeno knows he’s talking about lube. This revelation both excites and intrigues Jeno, and he can’t help but prod a little as he rifles through Jaemin’s drawers in search of it.
“Who do you think about?” Jaemin gives him a pained look, and he smiles teasingly.
“You know,” Jaemin says, gesturing vaguely at nothing, and Jeno rolls his eyes. He finds the lube and returns to Jaemin, ever-so-gently spreading his thighs and settling between them.
Jeno glances up at Jaemin’s walls, which are covered in record sleeves and posters of movie stars. There’s one poster that’s larger than the rest, next to Jaemin’s bed, and Jeno nods in its direction and asks “Him?”
Jaemin swallows. “Sometimes.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“What about the other times?”
Jaemin covers his face with his hands.
“It’s okay. I think about you, too.” Jaemin peeks out from behind his fingers, his curiosity getting the best of him.
“Really?”
Jeno grins. “Yes. Even when I knew you hated my guts.”
“I never hated you,” Jaemin says immediately, and Jeno raises his eyebrows. “I mean… I was mad. I was mostly hurt, but I was mad too. And sad. But I never hated you, ever.”
Hurt flashes over Jeno’s face, and he frowns. “I’m sorry, angel.” Another new nickname, and Jaemin feels hot all over the second it leaves Jeno’s lips.
“Do you say this shit to everyone?”
“Who’s everyone?”
“Everyone you’ve slept with.” Jeno raises his eyebrows even higher.
“I’ve only slept with one person. Two now, I guess. And no, I don’t.”
Jaemin isn’t quite convinced. “Then what did you call her?” he demands, and Jeno sighs.
“Her name. Nicknames. I never called her ‘angel.’”
“Why me?”
“Because I think you look like an angel,” Jeno says, dead serious, and Jaemin rolls his eyes despite how red his cheeks turn.
“You’re being dramatic.”
“No I’m not. I mean it. I mean everything I say to you.”
“I know,” Jaemin whispers, splaying his fingers across Jeno’s neck. “I’m sorry. I’ve never… I’ve never done this, but I’ve also never had anyone that I wanted like this. I know you have,” he adds quickly, and Jeno frowns a little.
“Jaemin, stop talking like that. Don’t worry about her, please. I know we have a past, but that’s what it is. A past. You’re the only person in the entire world that I want. There’s no one else, angel.”
Tears start to well in Jaemin’s eyes, and Jeno’s widen, terrified, but Jaemin smiles and shakes his head, wiping at his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I know, Jeno. I know. Thank you. Jeno, you mean so much to me. Okay? I promise you, Jeno, I won’t be like your dad. I won’t be like your brother. We’re eighteen and I don’t know anything either, I don’t know anything, but I… I’ll try. I’ll fight for you, Jeno. It hurt, it hurt so bad, not being with you.”
Jeno thinks maybe he’ll cry, too, and he kisses Jaemin tenderly before he starts. When he pulls away, Jaemin’s eyes are shining like the stars, and he nearly gets lost in them all over again.
Jeno remembers the lube that’s clutched tightly in his hand, and he asks, “Jaem, can I…?”
“Yeah. Yes, okay,” Jaemin responds, moving his hands to grip Jeno’s shoulders tightly.
Jeno lowers himself a little, settling further between Jaemin’s spread legs, and then he hesitates.
“Jeno,” Jaemin whines, because he’s embarrassed to be spread out like this with Jeno just admiring him and he just wants Jeno to get a move on.
“I’m sorry, I just, I’ve never done this to a guy before so… tell me if it’s okay?” He seems unsure, and Jaemin props himself up on his elbows.
“You really don’t know what to do?”
“I do!” Jeno protests. “I mean… in theory, I think? It can’t be that different from…” He trails off, and Jaemin realizes that he isn’t the only inexperienced one here. It only makes him feel even more endeared toward Jeno, and somehow he shakes off his own hesitation and anxiety in order to help Jeno through his.
“Jeno, look at me,” Jaemin says sternly, and Jeno does, giving him those eyes that always make Jaemin shaky. Always have, always will. “It’s not that different. You’ll be fine. Just start with one and take it slow, alright?” Jeno blushes.
“Okay.”
Jaemin nods at him, so Jeno opens the lube, slicking up his fingers and then hesitating again.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Jeno protests, and Jaemin sighs. That’s sweet, but really.
“Jeno, it’s going to hurt no matter what. This is my first time. But you can make it hurt less if you prep me right, so just…” He gives Jeno a meaningful look, and Jeno swallows and nods.
“Okay,” he says again, and then he tentatively, slowly, pushes a finger inside Jaemin.
Jaemin’s eyes widen, and he inhales sharply, which sets Jeno off into a near-panic again.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
“Jeno, it’s fine. I’m fine. Your fingers are just… thicker than mine,” he finishes, and Jeno looks at him almost guiltily.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, and Jaemin lets out a huff of a laugh.
“Jeno, it’s okay. I’m fine, I’m going to be fine. Stop worrying. Now move,” he demands, and Jeno does, because he’ll do whatever Jaemin asks of him. “You can add another one,” Jaemin reassures him after a moment, and Jeno is still nervous but he does as he’s told.
Jaemin coaches Jeno patiently through prepping him, making sure to tell Jeno what he likes and what he doesn’t. After a while, he thinks he’s as good as he’ll ever be, and he murmurs this in Jeno’s ear. Jeno’s fingers still inside him, and he seems to be turning something over in his head, so Jaemin cocks his head at him.
“I, um, Jaemin, I think I should add another,” Jeno blurts all at once, blushing hard, and Jaemin raises his eyebrows.
“Okay,” he says cautiously, and Jeno gives him an embarrassed smile. Jeno pushes a third finger inside of him, and Jaemin reaches for Jeno, grabbing his free hand and squeezing it tight. He relaxes eventually, and Jeno is patient with him, only moving his fingers when Jaemin tells him to. “I think I’m ready,” Jaemin whispers, and Jeno removes his fingers gingerly, getting silently off of the bed. He pauses, then just sheds his pants and underwear, and as nervous he as he is to be like this with Jaemin— he’s shy and embarrassed, but he wants Jaemin so bad that he’ll push through it because he knows Jaemin is doing the same— he still feels comfortable, he feels safe, knowing that they get to see each other like this.
Jaemin’s eyebrows raise, and in a very not-Na-Jaemin fashion, he murmurs “Damn, you really meant it.” Jeno knows exactly what he’s talking about, and he averts his eyes shyly. Jaemin smiles to himself. “Come here,” he adds, and Jeno goes obediently, crawling back over Jaemin.
Jeno’s hips jolt a little when Jaemin starts to roll the condom onto him, but he gets a hold of himself and lets Jaemin finish and spread more of the lube onto him. When he’s done, he lets his hands fall to his sides, looking up at Jeno expectantly, so, with shaky hands, Jeno positions himself with Jaemin’s entrance.
“You’re okay?”
“I’m okay,” Jaemin reassures him, “Jeno, I’m ready.”
“Okay,” Jeno says, barely breathing, “Okay, I’m going to…”
“I’m ready, Jeno,” Jaemin repeats, linking his arms around Jeno’s neck, so Jeno throws all caution to the wind and pushes all the way inside him.
Jaemin lets out a whine, closing his eyes as he tries to adjust. Jeno, on the other hand, is almost dizzy from how tight Jaemin feels around him.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Jeno murmurs, leaning in to press kisses behind Jaemin’s ear and at the tender spot under his jaw. He just wants Jaemin to feel as good as he does, and he knows he’s probably hurting right now, so he does his best to make it go away with kisses and caresses.
“Jeno,” Jaemin mumbles, opening his teary eyes halfway and cupping Jeno’s face in his hands when the latter immediately stops what he’s doing to look Jaemin in the face again and make sure that he’s okay.
“Angel?”
“Baby, you,” Jaemin says hazily, stammering despite himself, “Baby, baby, you fill me up so good.” Jeno turns red all the way to his chest, but Jaemin is so far past that, already dipping dangerously into a type of pleasure he hasn’t felt before. It hurts, but knowing that Jeno is inside him, feeling Jeno inside him, like this, going all the way with Jeno like this— it erases everything, and all that Jaemin can think is ‘Jeno.’ “You can move, Jen. Please move, please.”
So Jeno does. He pulls out carefully and thrusts back in gently, somehow in tune with every fiber of Jaemin’s being. Jaemin stares up at Jeno, dopey and entranced, and Jeno stares back down at him, equally as enchanted with Jaemin as Jaemin is with him.
“Can you— Jeno, can you touch me?” Jaemin asks, and without a beat Jeno reaches between them to stroke him gently. Jaemin whimpers, arching up slightly into Jeno, bracing himself with one hand on Jeno’s shoulder and twisting the other into the fabric of his sheets when he wants to cry out. It’s gentle, it’s sweet, despite everything. Despite the fact that it’s Jaemin’s first time, ever, despite the fact that Jeno is a little bigger than he was really ready for, despite the fact that Jaemin can’t really do much more than make small, high-pitched noises and grab at Jeno when he needs to. Jeno is careful, delicate, even though Jaemin knows he wants to do more. Jeno cums a short while later, panting lightly and pausing, and before Jaemin can say anything else he wraps his fingers around him, stroking him until he cums all over himself, letting out a whisper of Jeno’s name when he does.
After they’ve both caught their breaths, Jeno looks Jaemin in the eye and, when Jaemin gives him a small nod, gently pulls out of him. Jaemin feels— he doesn’t know. At first, all he feels is empty, a feeling he wasn’t anticipating, and then he feels lonely, when Jeno gets off of the bed in search of a towel to clean him up with, and then, after Jeno has finished cleaning him up, peeling Jaemin’s sweaty shirt off of him and pulling his own shirt over Jaemin’s head instead, Jaemin feels loved.
Jeno seems to hesitate after he’s put his own boxers back on, looking uncertainly between the bed and Jaemin’s bedroom door.
“You’re staying,” Jaemin says, and it’s not a question or a request.
“Okay,” Jeno says softly.
⭑
Jeno takes a deep breath and knocks gently on Jaemin’s door. He knows Jaemin won’t answer, because Jaemin isn’t expecting him. Jeno isn’t quite sure why Jaemin was always so hesitant to introduce Jeno to his parents, but he knows it isn’t for lack of support or compassion. He suspects it has something to do with the same fear that Jeno always has at the back of his mind: the fear of being left, and having to explain to those close to you why you’re alone again. It’s not like Jaemin doesn’t have a reason for this worry, but after everything, Jeno is determined to quell that worry the same way Jaemin always quelled all of his.
The door opens, and Jeno finds himself in front of a woman who looks exactly like Jaemin. He nearly forgets what he was going to say, because all he can think is ‘So that’s where Jaemin gets his looks from,’ but he snaps out of it and extends his hand to her. “I’m Jeno,” he says, “I go to school with Jaemin. We’re… friends.”
Something glints in Mrs. Na’s face when he says that, and she takes his hand and shakes it, smiling warmly. “Hi, Jeno. It’s nice to meet you. I’ll call him down, would you like to come in?”
Jeno nods, so Mrs. Na opens the door wider and welcomes him inside. Jeno gives her a small bow and waits patiently by the door as Mrs. Na disappears upstairs, and just a few moments he sees Jaemin peeking over the railing at him.
“Jeno?” He seems equal parts pleased and surprised, hurrying down the stairs, and he gives Jeno a hug before springing back, almost like he didn’t intend to hug Jeno in the first place. “What are you doing here?”
Jeno shrugs. “I wanted to see you. Plus, you wouldn’t introduce me to your parents, so I decided to do it myself.”
Jaemin blushes and smiles shyly at him. “You could have warned me.”
“That kind of defeats the purpose, don’t you think? Anyway, do you have plans? I was thinking… a picnic? Is that too cheesy?”
Jaemin lights up. “No, it’s perfect. You really are a gentleman, huh? Let me grab my stuff, and then we can go.” He disappears up the stairs, but not before turning back to give Jeno another shy smile.When he comes back, shoes on and jacket in hand, he shouts, “Mom, Dad, I’m leaving!” and nudges Jeno towards the door. They might have made a clean get away, but Jeno hesitates, and it turns out to be the right thing to do because Jaemin’s dad makes an appearance for the first time.
“Jeno, yes?” He sticks his hand out and Jeno takes it.
“Yes. Nice to meet you, sir,” he says, and he’d be lying if he wasn’t slightly terrified of Jaemin’s dad already.
Mr. Na nods and says, “Take care of our boy, okay?”
Jaemin groans “Dad,” at the same time that Mrs. Na hisses, “Honey,” and both he and Jeno smile a little.
“Of course,” Jeno promises, and then Jaemin is grabbing his hand and pulling him out the door. “Bye!” he calls behind him, slamming the door shut and beelining for Jeno’s car.
“Sorry,” Jaemin mumbles, bright red as he slides into the passenger seat, and Jeno laughs.
“It’s okay. That went better than I hoped.” Jaemin gives him a dubious look, and Jeno shrugs. “Sorry if I overstepped. I just… I dunno, I wanted to meet your parents. I want them to know I exist, you know? If we’re really… going to be boyfriends.” Jeno blushes a little and Jaemin gives him a peck on the cheek before staring up at him through his lashes.
“Of course, Jeno. I know. I’m glad you met them, too, my mom kept asking me who I stayed up so late talking on the phone with, and, well…” he trails off. “I want to meet your mom, too,” Jaemin says shyly, and Jeno smiles sideways at him.
“She’d love that. I’m sure she’d love to put a face to the name after all these months.”
Jaemin’s eyes widen. “You told your mom about me?”
Jeno grins. “Well, I had to tell someone, you know?” Jaemin rolls his eyes, but he finds himself kissing Jeno again. He’s really enjoying it, but then he feels eyes on him, and he opens his own eyes, looking over Jeno’s head in the direction of his house.
“Jeno,” Jaemin hisses, horrified, pulling away, “Jeno, we need to leave. Now.”
Jeno looks at him in bewilderment. “What—?”
Jaemin reaches across the console to turn the keys in the ignition, starting the car himself. He points up in the direction of his bedroom, and Jeno can see, immediately, that in the room next to Jaemin’s a young girl is peeking out the window, definitely giggling. He had completely forgotten that Jaemin had a younger sister.
“Jeno,” Jaemin insists, and Jeno hurriedly puts his hand on the wheel and his foot on the gas, shifting into reverse and backing out of Jaemin’s driveway. He knows without even looking that Jaemin is bright red.
“Do you think she’ll tell your mom?” Jeno asks, smiling devilishly, and Jaemin smacks him on the chest.
“Jeno.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Jeno chuckles, grabbing the hand Jaemin had just assaulted him with and raising it to his mouth to press a kiss to it. “I think your mom likes me,” he adds, just to be annoying, and Jaemin huffs and looks away. He doesn’t let go of Jeno’s hand, though, and he allows Jeno to continue holding it, letting it rest in his lap. “You’re stuck with me now, Jaem,” Jeno says absent-mindedly, and Jaemin smiles to himself.
“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
⭑
“Hey.” Jaemin looks up from the pottery wheel and meets none other than Lee Jeno’s gaze, and he’s so surprised his hand slips and ruins his pot. He pouts at it, and Jeno gives him a sheepish look. “Sorry,” he murmurs, and Jaemin turns the pottery wheel off and gives Jeno his proper attention.
“It’s okay. I kind of hated it anyway.” Jeno knows he’s lying. He comes to sit next to Jaemin, squeezing onto the bench that’s definitely meant for one person, cocking his head at Jaemin’s misshapen little pot.
“Can you help me? I fucking suck at pottery.”
“I can try,” Jaemin replies, praying Jeno doesn’t notice how shallow his breathing is. It’s been a whole semester since he’s had a class with Jeno and he hasn’t quite gotten used to flirting with him all over again. “I’m not great either.”
“You look like you’re good with your hands,” Jeno says, looking directly in Jaemin’s eyes as he does so, and Jaemin feels his face heat up in a nano-second.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he responds lightly, coming off far more aloof and unbothered than Jeno knows he really is.
“Why don’t you show me?” Jaemin rolls his eyes and gets up, and Jeno grins up at him.
“In your dreams,” Jaemin says, and then he turns on his heel. Jeno watches him go. After all these semesters of aimless flirting, he swears he’s going to ask Jaemin out this time, for real.