Archive of Our Own

There is love everywhere – in songs, movies and that couple discount written in pink chalk on a board propped up beside the shōji sliding doors. Is there really love though? Love feels so commercialised these days.

Jeno is not even sure what love is supposed to feel like. In movies, it’s a split second, a lingering gaze, a spilled drink, a bump – papers spilling all over the floor. It’s cliche and he cringes, but he pays nine bucks to watch it unfurl in the theatre anyway. He always ends up disappointed with the predictable plot, but it’s worthwhile when his crush searches for his hand in the dark and leaves the cinema with sparkly eyes full of tears.

As a matter of fact, isn’t he contributing to the commercialisation of love?

If he were to summarise romance films into one line, it has got to be from one that isn’t actually about romance. Throwback to college, checkered button ups and jeans, sitting in a lecture theatre converted into a makeshift cinema by the film club kids. It’s not even in English and he can’t remember the title, but somehow, he remembers the subtitle clearly.

“Every day we brush past so many other people. People we may never meet or people who may become close friends.”

Love seems to be all about fate, a bigger force at hand. In their modern age, Jeno doesn’t believe in fate, not really. He is a man of science – he needs every hypothesis to be backed up with research and statistics. He stands by his view – Yeeun noona would say he’s a stubborn taurus. Maybe, he doesn’t want to believe in fate because it doesn’t smile upon him.

It all starts in JapanTown. It’s been a long day of tutoring wide-eye and anxious freshmen. Regardless, there is always that one smart kid in class who answers him so it has gone by without a hiccup. He’s trying to not let the awkwardness get to him and he’s proud to say that after one semester, he’s getting better. That being said, tutoring still saps the energy out of him like a leech and at the end of the day, he’s low on social battery.

That’s the reason why he turns down his professor’s offer for dinner and he heads down to his favourite sushi bar. It’s been a long day, thus time to cash in on the fortnightly treat. He calls his childhood friend on the bus ride there and goes to voicemail twice. There’s no helping it – given the time difference, the window of opportunity for chatting after work is short.

Jeno doesn’t leave a message because they'll talk another time – he’s counting on a lifetime with him.

If adulting teached him anything, it’s that hearing from your friend once a month is already a blessing. They try to keep in contact at least once a week but even then, it’ll never be enough.

The soft pink tuna melts in his mouth and he focuses on the food when catching wisps of conversations that blurs together to an abstract noise that fills his head. When the waitress asks him if he would like some Whiskey, he takes up her offer. She holds the bottle with two hands as she pours the amber liquid into the round glass pre-filled with ice.

The first sip is always small and he lets the liquid sit on his tongue, the sweetness of thyme honey staining his lips. When he licks them, it reminds him of a visit to an orchard, lips sticky with fruit juice. The aftertaste is a spicy note that makes him sigh in content.

After the first taste test, Jeno takes a gulp in hopes that the alcohol will soothe his nerves. Indeed, when the alcohol has made a trip around his circulatory system, he finally shakes away the tension and relaxes. He spends the rest of dinner alternating between raw fish, whiskey and people watching, a fist under his chin.

It’s by a stroke of luck that he meets Zhong Chenle.

It surprises him that he recognises Chenle because the last time he saw him was in sophmore year, his hair a permanent shade of green, as if to evoke envy. You name it, he had it – social life, graduated first class honours despite being at every party, a job before he graduated. Typical business student.

The thing is: No one can ever forget Zhong Chenle.

Chenle has cleaned up nicely – sobered up. His hair now black, wearing a custom-made suit – sharp lines, like his cheek bones and the bridge of his nose. Every part of him is clean cut like the edges of a diamond and Jeno’s eyes follow him when Chenle laughs, throws his head back and slaps his colleague's back.

Jeno blinks, returning his gaze back to his drink instead. He stares at his reflection on the surface, distorted by the ice cubes and orange light at the bar. He barely recognises himself in the reflection and he’s faced with how insignificant his life is – not to undermine his work as a researcher. For a moment, he wonders what it is like to be known and remembered. He wonders if anyone from college remembers him for any one small thing he’s done – maybe a shirt he wore during lecture or something he’s answered. Something remarkable to remember him by. He consolidates his thoughts and comes to terms with his averageness. Chenle would not recognise him even if he were to greet him, thus decides against it.

The more he stares at his distorted reflection, the more he feels the uneasiness creep up his throat and it itches, so he downs the rest of his whiskey and gathers his belongings to make payment at the counter.

His theory is, in fact, proven wrong.

Chenle catches him when they're footing their respective bills. “Hey, Jeno Lee,” Chenle smiles, his eyes narrowing like the Cheshire Cat while sliding beside him at the counter.

“Hi, Chenle,” Jeno says, trying to mask his surprise. He clutches onto his receipt and leather wallet as he waits for Chenle to finish paying. As much as he wants to walk right out, he’s struck by the need to stay. That’s what normal people would do, right?

Jeno makes way when someone enters the restaurant through the walkway and his shoulder presses against Chenle’s for an instant before he shifts back to his original position.

When Chenle is done signing on his receipt, he returns it to the cashier, who accepts it with a tired smile. While she’s clipping together the receipts, the Chinese returns his attention to Jeno and he says, “It’s nice to meet you. I’m glad I bumped into you.” He sounds genuine and Jeno tries not to read too much into his words, lest he overthinks something mundane again.

“It’s been awhile. How have you been?” This is awkward.

“Just travelling back and forth for work. You know, typical investment banker. What about you? You majored in science during university, right?”

“Biology,” Jeno corrects without intending to. It’s just a pet peeve he can’t help – hates it that the different fields get lumped together, hates that people don’t care about the nuances when their life is built on scientific innovation.

Chenle nods and looks at him with wide eyes, as if waiting for him to continue.

“I’m working on research for the uni, as part of my Masters. I teach tutorials for one of the introduction courses,” Jeno answers, to which Chenle responds with a whistle.

“Wow! Professor Lee?”

“Not really, I'm just a TA.” Jeno scratches his cheek before adjusting his spectacles.

“Well. Professor Lee.” Chenle giggles when he emphasises on the title, “Do you have any plans after dinner?”

“No, not really,” Jeno replies before he smacks himself internally. Perhaps his eomma raised him to be too honest of a boy. He tacks on cautiously, “Why?”

“Do you want to go to the best bar in San Francisco with me?”

Jeno opens his mouth, ready to reject him. It might be rude but the only thing he wants to do is cuddle in his bed and drink more of the cheap wine in his fridge. He doesn’t know if Chenle senses his hesitation because the next thing he says is calculated.

“Drinks are on me.”

There’s no way Jeno is going to reject him, not when rent eats up such a huge part of his measly pay from tutoring. Free alcohol is as good as it gets. He tells himself that he’s getting the long end of the stick when he’s playing right into Zhong Chenle’s hands.

The bar that Chenle brings him to is interesting, for the lack of a better word. It’s decorated with modern furnishings with an oreintal touch. The artwork on the wall reminds Jeno of watercolour, painted by Chinese artists with simple brush strokes that tell a million tales. However, the piece of decoration that makes it fully live up to it’s name of Moongate Lounge is the windowsill – red wiring in a chinese square pattern flanking the set of double doors that opens to the balcony.

It leaves Jeno in awe so he snaps a photo and only when Chenle guides him from the shoulder does he move with him to the bar counter. Behind the bar counter, bartenders are mixing drinks, moving like a sort of performance. Further back, there is a semi circle punched into the wall, forming an archway, that offers a view of the expansive collection of alcohol bottles displayed in neat rows.

After Chenle passes the service staff his card, they move to the cushion seats with a cocktail in hand –it’s called the Summer Solstice. The sweetness of watermelon offsets the bitter notes in gin, making it a refreshing drink and he finishes it before he knows it. When Chenle spots his empty glass, he waves to the waiter to bring him a fresh one.

It might be presumptuous to assume that Chenle is into him but there’s no other logical explanation for this – whatever he is offering. That’s why Jeno drinks but not to the point where he has to get a cab home.

Once he’s positively buzzed, the conversation flows a little easier, sadly at the expense of removing his filters. He doesn’t know how he starts talking about love but it spirals to Chenle talking about one-night stands. Apparently he doesn’t use dating apps and Jeno doesn’t believe him. When Chenle, exasperated, throws the question back at him he's at a loss of words.

The thing is, Jeno has no clue about dating apps and sex at all. If he had, he wouldn’t be here and he tells Chenle that much. He expects the Chinese to be offended but he gets a chuckle instead, his partner leaning into the sofa chair with his stupid suit. He looks just as sharp but when he folds the cuff of his dress shirt up to the elbow, he loses his air of professionalism.

“Let’s say, if a friend were to ask you how to confess, what advice would you give them?”

“Okay,” Chenle laughs. “Let’s say a friend. Let’s say if you were my friend, I would say go for it. What do you have to lose?”

“Everything. It’s not as simple as you think, Chenle. I-”

Chenle cuts him off with a finger to his lip to get him to shut up.

“You’re slipping,” Chenle smirks. “Hypothetical situation, remember?”

“Not everyone gets whoever they want.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everyone likes you Chenle. I swear everyone in college wanted to sleep with you or has already slept with you.”

“Have you?” Chenle asks, his eyes crinkling with mischief.

“No.” Jeno only has eyes for Renjun.

“But I want to learn how you do it. What’s your secret behind — not my words — being so irresistible?”

“How to get people to sleep with you? It shouldn’t be hard with a face like yours.” Chenle runs a finger along Jeno’s jawline, stopping at the chin. “You know what? This is the perfect time and place to practice.”

Chenle’s hands move animatedly as he speaks, but each gesture effectively conveys the set of instructions he is giving now. Firstly, he’s found his target, Chenle’s chin tilting towards his direction. Jeno stares at the stranger’s back view, strangely captivated by his yellow hair that stands out even in the dim bar. When he turns back to Chenle, he realises that he’s zoned out on half of the instructions. He can’t find it in him to ask the Chinese to repeat when he’s so enthusiastic, his hands replicating the same energy in his tone.

The instructions loop in his head as he leaves Chenle for the man at the counter. The yellow hair that drew Jeno in was, in fact, lime at a closer glance. He tries to slide onto the high chair beside the man as smoothly as he can.

“Hi. I’m Jeno. Your hair is pretty,” Jeno says. He can’t even meet the man’s eyes when he’s complimenting him. Oh no, Chenle’s instructions clearly mentioned eye contact is key. When he finally looks at the man, he realises that his eyes are an abnormally light shade of gray, likely colour contacts. Regardless, they are captivating and Jeno tells him that much.

The stranger snorts, his face scrunching up but he doesn’t look mean. The crinkles in his face makes him look friendly.

“Thank you,” the man replies. “I’m Dejun, if you’re interested.”

“Of course I am,” Jeno replies. A white lie couldn't hurt.

The bartender approaches them, looks behind him, to where their seat is and nods, turning back to mix a drink for the both of them. Jeno’s attention returns to Xiaojun but he’s looking somewhere else. When his vision aligns with Dejun's, he sees Chenle shooting him a thumbs up.

“You’re friend made you come up here, didn’t he,” Xiaojun speaks, his voice runny like syrup. Jeno thinks it matches his image well.

“If it’s a dare we have to put up a show, don’t you think?” Jeno can no longer see Dejun, but the warm breath on his neck makes up for it.

“Can I kiss you?” Jeno finds himself speaking, to his surprise.

A curt nod and he leans in to kiss Xiaojun, his hand on his cheek. It’s tentative at first, a mere peck to test the waters. When their lips glide against each other, Jeno feels the sticky lipgloss and it tastes sweet where he licks, alcohol mixing with cherry-cola. When his licks explore further into his mouth, Xiaojun’s hands cup his cheek and he feels the cold metal of his rings.

A clank pulls him away and the jazz playing in the bar rushes back in, the buzz of trumpets running through his blood. Even in Jeno’s drunken stupor, the intense stare on him from his right makes him gulp. He turns comically slowly to see two drinks at the counter, the yellowish liquid pooling at the base of the glass where it spilled. If a stare could kill, he’s sure that the bartender’s gaze would end him right now. In fact, he looks so close to hurling the glass at Jeno. He has neon green highlights in his black hair and coupled with the array of earrings he puts up an intimidating front.

The possible scenarios play out in his head in a flash, like a film roll. In one of the scenes, the headline would read: “25-year-old man murdered in a bar for kissing the bartender’s boyfriend.”

The thought makes Jeno’s head dizzy while his body is immobilized with fear, his legs jelly from the alcohol.

Before his imagination turns into reality, a pair of arms pull him away and he hears Chenle scream, “Put it on my tab,” before they leave the bar. When Xiaojun winks at them and waves, Jeno realizes belatedly that he had been used.

“Gosh, you really did it. See, there’s no problem at all,” Chenle smacks his back as he giggles, guiding him as they stumbled down the road onto Sacramento Street.

“There is a problem! He had a boyfriend and you clearly knew it but you made me kiss him,” Jeno whines. Suddenly, it all clicks and he points an accusatory finger at Chenle and huffs, “You know him don’t you?”

“You could say Chinese people stick together.”

Jeno gapes and before he can stop himself he confesses, “The boy I like is Chinese too.” Why is my mouth so loose when I’m drunk?

“Do I know him?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“Fine. Keep your secrets to yourself. I always have a way of figuring out,” Chenle puffs up his chest before turning to the other direction. Jeno looks the other way and he sees the purple font of Planet Fitness shining on his cheeks. The purple light outlines his head even when he turns back to him.

They stare at each other for a solid second before Chenle blurts out, “I’m hungry. Is there any good food nearby?”

The irony of Chenle staring at a fitness store and thinking about supper makes Jeno bellow with laughter — despite the time — until he’s tearing up. When he wipes away his tears, Chenle has a confused expression on his face but he smiles when Jeno calms down enough to throw him a thumbs up.

“If we make a turn there, down Halleck Alley, there is a McDonalds.”

“Fucking wonderful. The sweet comfort of fries at 2am reminds me so much of uni.”

This time, Jeno pays for the Quarter Pounder burger with an upsize for the drink and asks for lemon tea much to Chenle’s dismay. The Chinese man returns from the chilli dispenser with a stack of napkins and keeps his million dollar smile even when Jeno sighs out loud. His smile is exceptionally bright when Jeno throws him a side eye.

They are reminiscing the undergraduate days, talking about fraternity life and the stupid things they’ve done when rushing. Chenle remembers that he was from the hockey team and says that his good friend played as a winger. At the end, the conversation still returns to his crush.

“So, tell me more about this boy you like,” Chenle asks, sliding it in casually as he’s peeling the top bun of the burger off and picking out the pickles.

Instead of answering him, Jeno sputters, a bit of lemon tea dribbling down his chin, “You couldn’t wait for me to finish drinking?”

“See? Napkins are useful,” Chenle says as he leans forwards so he can use the napkin on Jeno.

“Doesn’t justify you taking ten of them.” Jeno grabs the napkin to wipe his neck.

“Back to the main topic,” Chenle says. It’s met with a groan. Jeno had hoped that Chenle would just drop the topic.

“Well, it’s cheesy as hell but he’s the sun. He’s fiery but warm-hearted.” He almost says more but he is reminded of how Chenle attended college with them and he could easily search him up. Good thing that he’s trained at being cryptic and vague to avoid talking about his feelings.

“And you want to be with him? In a serious relationship?”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing?!”

“It’s not! It’s just not for me but hey, regardless, it should be a fun experience. Flirting is supposed to be fun.”

“And I need so much work on it.”

“I could still help if you want? It’s like you tutoring your kids. You’ll get better with some practice and guidance.”

Jeno contemplates the offer for a second. At this rate he’s desperate because even Cosmopolitan can’t help him.

“Okay.”

“You sure?”

“I’m tired of just wanting him. It’s never enough.”

“Well, if you are sure, I’d make sure you can get your man. I always get my clients what they want. My life motto is that I don’t accept any failures – so I would only help you on the condition that you get your man. If this doesn’t work out, I’ll find you another man – or girl, whatever you want. I know a lot of people, not all good but enough to find you a match.”

Jeno doesn’t mention that nobody would ever be able to replace Renjun. Even his brain coos his name, lovingly and soft like a purr. Instead, he asks, “What about the payment, then?”

“I’ll think about it,” Chenle strokes his chin.

“That makes you a really bad businessman, don’t you think?”

“That is for me to know and for you to find out,” Chenle laughs.

Through their exchanges from the night, Chenle's lack of personal space is obvious. And yet, when he reaches towards his chest, there’s a breath stuck in his throat from the nerves when he’s merely taking a ballpoint pen from his chest pocket. He’s still in a daze when Chenle leans down and writes on the last remaining napkins with a determined expression, talking all the while. He’s not really listening anymore. It’s then that Jeno realises it's 3am, his social battery is flat and he really wants – no, needs – to fly home this instant and curl up in his bed.

Chenle’s chicken scratches are barely legible but at a rough glance, he's basically transcribed their conversation into a mini contract on a napkin. The air shifts when they seal the deal with their signature on the bottom.

“You keep it safe, okay? I still need to travel to LA before going back to New York and I’m sure I will lose it,” Chenle chuckles.

“Yep. Just in case I need to sue you,” Jeno jokes and Chenle bursts out laughing. He’s so sure that the cashier is glaring at them but he can’t find it in him to care.

Unsurprisingly, Jeno knocks out as soon as he hits his bed. He does get a solid six hours of sleep but that also means that he’s almost late for his tutorial—at least compared to when he usually arrives to set up for class. He takes a speedy shower and throws on a polo shirt and brown khakis, since it’s dress-down fridays.

Over his brunch, microwaved rice and side dishes, he checks his phone. The battery is full because even drunk Jeno wants his day to go smoothly. There’s a missed call from Renjun and a text asking if everything is okay. He responds positive before replying to his classmate, Shotaro, about their lab report. The last message is from a contact saved under ‘Le Le Love Coach (Chenle)’. At freaking eight am after their late night rendezvous.

Le Le Love Coach (Chenle):

Good morning professor Lee!

I hope you have a good day! Your homework of the day is to compliment your crush. Make the relationship warm, remind him you exist before setting up a date! We’ll get there.

The world continues to spin around its axis and life goes on. As strange as it is, Jeno doesn’t mind. He’s used to routine; used to turning up on time and spending long hours in the lab. He’s used to his weekly calls with Renjun and his monthly drive back to his family home in Sacramento. Slowly but surely, he’s also getting used to receiving texts from Chenle at random hours and seeing him on his Facebook feed.

This weekend is a little more exciting, at least for Lee Jeno, whose days don’t fluctuate much. At this time of the year, the blanket of fog covering the city is the thickest and he can barely make out the red of the Golden Gate Bridge. That doesn't bother him much because it’s summer, which also means semester break. His plans include taking a red eye flight up to Philadelphia to see Renjun.

It’s a short trip so Jeno packes light, only a change of clothes and essentials. He would have taken the public transport but Renjun’s insistence at driving them around was adorable, so he couldn’t say no. He’s not too sure what’s keeping Renjun so upbeat, humming along to the radio as he winds down the car window and waves to Jeno. He’s driving a blue Nissan, no doubt rented – he wouldn’t put it past the locals to rely solely on their public transport.

“I got you breakfast.” That’s the first thing Renjun says. No need for hellos. They are beyond that – 25 years of friendship since they lied in their cribs side by side, wordless understanding with a gaze. His gaze is now focused on the road, angle emphasizing his side profile against the grey sky. His hair is black for once, after going through so many colours over the years — his personality undefinable even with the millions of shades. His bangs are combed back with the rest of his hair that ends at the neck of his button-up. From the outside, it might seem as though Renjun has settled down, but Jeno is sure it’s not for long – he just can’t be tied down.

“Done staring?”

Jeno coughs and avert his gaze. Instead of answering, he unwraps the brown packaging to reveal a cream cheese bagel, still warm to the touch, and an iced americano in the cupholder.

“I’m joking. I know you like people watching, though I figured you’d be bored looking at me after so many years,” Renjun laughs.

Except that he’s the most fascinating specimen Jeno has set his eyes on and he wants to examine him, not through a telescope but up close and personal.

“You didn’t tell me you dyed your hair,” Jeno says.

“Well, some of the girls from work did it for me last night so hey, you’re the first person seeing me like this,” Renjun says before he makes a turn. “So, how is it?”

“It’s pretty,” Jeno admits.

“Thanks, Prince Charming,” Renjun laughs.

Jeno’s cheeks feel a little warm. It’s stupid how having a crush makes you feel like you’re 12 again. To push down the queasy feeling he gobbles down his bagel and stuffs his cheeks full which, in retrospect, is probably not a good move. But Renjun has seen worse.

They spend the morning lazing about Renjun’s apartment before they have Philly Cheesesteaks, where he eats enough to not miss the dish for 3 months. While battling food coma, Renjun drags him to Philadelphia’s Magic Garden. There isn’t any magic there, of course, but it is remarkable in its mundaneness. At the first glance it’s a complex mosaic of colours — broken down into shapes made of glass panels and mirrors. There are aqua and cobalt bottles lining the top of the wall and hidden in other nooks and crannies. It’s chaotic and messy and yet it captures his attention much more than other exhibitions Renjun has brought him to.

Jeno makes sure to photograph every detail, with and without Renjun.

“You’re sure you don’t want me to take some for you?”

“I’m not going to post them anyways,” Jeno hums.

“Why not? You take really nice photos, Jen. You have a good grasp of composition and always make me look nice.”

“That’s just because you look nice from every angle,” Jeno mumbles.

“Hmm?” Renjun asks, his steps slowing down.

“I said I’ll send you yours later so you can post them instead,” Jeno corrects.

“If it’s nice I’ll post it on my Grindr profile.”

Jeno pouts at that but Renjun’s back is turned against him so allows himself another moment to continue sulking.

It is at times like these that fate is playing him dirty, because Renjun catches his change in mood with a glance, dark brown iris that Jeno can’t look away from. He reads Jeno like a book but he’s forgotten to check the cover so the context is all wrong.

“You don’t like this place much, do you? You’re always frowning when I bring you to museums.”

“It’s not that. It’s just hot and analysing art really hurts my brain. I’m trying to appreciate the message but it’s hard.”

“Okay. I just want us to do something you like but you always say ‘whatever makes you happy makes me happy’,” Renjun imitates his voice, but his pitch is off.

It makes Jeno laugh and he shrugs off whatever he was upset about because Renjun is right. Jeno justifies the first part of his comment with how he’s bad at coming out with date ideas, so he leaves it to his best friend when they are in his turf. That is besides the point — he doesn’t mind what they are doing as long as he’s with Renjun. Their time together is limited. He should cherish it.

They share a cup of soft serve to freshen up but it becomes more of a frantic race to finish it before it turns into a milkshake. Despite their attempts, they still end up with sticky fingers, giggles and the sickeningly sweet taste of bubblegum on his tongue.

Right after, they climb into the overheated car and try to not burn their bums. They drive past Philadelphia City Hall and the architecture is stunning. On top of the clock towers, after layers of elaborate round pillars stands the statue of city founder William Penn. It is then that Jeno remembers that Philadelphia is also dubbed as The City of Brotherly Love.

Their next destination is (surprise, surprise) Love Park, Renjun is a romantic after all. The four red capital letters seem a little too jarring, too crimson in a place so full of green. The contrast shows up well in a photograph, though, one taken by a stranger Renjun waved over. It’s all in the details — Jeno's cream polo and Renjun wearing red plaid, arms thrown over each other's shoulders, peace signs, rosy cheeks and pearly teeth gleaming in the sun.

The day ends humbly in Renjun’s apartment. The both of them squeeze into the kitchen as they make dinner, just like old times. They are much better at cooking now, but that doesn’t stop Renjun from calling Jeno’s eomma to check with her on the recipe. Jeno knows that’s just an excuse so he can talk to her.

Jeno notes how soft Renjun’s comforter is while putting on a show on his laptop. The bed is way too small for two but they make it work, half of Renjun’s body pressed onto his chest. If his heart rate quickens, neither of them comments on it.

They marathon the Harry potter series but only make it a quarter through Chamber of Secrets before Renjun falls asleep. Jeno kisses Renjun’s cheek when he wishes him good night. They don't talk about it the next morning and Jeno stays silent. At least, until Chenle digs the details out of him.

When Jeno wakes up, there’s orange dancing behind his eyelids. Around him, Jeno hears noise he can't quite make sense of. It becomes louder and it gradually sharpens into chatter, but he doesn’t know the owner of the voice.

His fight or flight instincts are triggered and Jeno jolts awake, jumping up from whatever he was sleeping on. His neck cramps from his bad sleep posture on the fraternity couch that undoubtedly made it worse.

“You look smashed, Lee.”

“Thank you,” Jeno responds automatically. It results in a cackle from his big, Jaehyun. He catches the bottle of water and drinks a gulp before he realizes that Renjun is not with him. Damn it, he promised Mrs Huang that he would keep Renjun out of trouble.

Jeno dives under the couch pillows for his phone, before it’s presented in his face.

“Here. You told Doyoung to keep it in case you did something stupid,” Jaehyun says.

“Well, did I?”

“Other than scowl at the couple making out on the couch? Not really.”

Jeno skims through his notification, sees a couple of missed calls and clicks on Renjun’s contact first.

renjun 🥰:
Good morning Jeno! I hope you made it back to dorms safe? I asked Doyoung and Jaehyun to look after you.
Guess who I slept with?

renjun 🥰:
I asked you to guess who! Not what 🙄
Anyways this is taking too long, i’m just going to tell you.
Zhong Chenle AAAAA

renjun 🥰:
😠 Hello I am very sexy when I want to be.
Okay, my great ass aside, can we talk about Chenle’s dick.

Renjun doesn’t wait for Jeno to type, “No, thank you.”

renjun 🥰:
HOLY IT’S SO HUGE WTF
Those sorority girls were not lying.

This is too much, Jeno thinks. He decides that he is going back to sleep. He’s not even going to move to his own room, in case he runs the risk of bumping into Renjun. He’s not sure if he can stomach his best friend giving a detailed recount of his sexual escapades. He throws his arm over his eyes and stretches his legs out on the sofa.

When Jeno wakes up, there’s orange dancing behind his eyelids. Around him, Jeno hears noise he can't quite make sense of.. It becomes louder and it gradually sharpens into chatter, but he doesn’t know the owner of the voice.

His fight or flight instincts are triggered and Jeno jolts awake, jumping up from whatever he was sleeping on. A shiver runs down his back when he comes to the realisation that he’s being observed. He’s looking into a pair of round but sharp eyes, much like a tiger.

The sound is coming from the radio playing in the background, the morning DJ greeting her listeners. She introduces the song, Coffee by Beabadoobee and the guitar strums crossfade with her voice.

“Chenle?” Jeno squints. He rubs his eyes as he says, “How did I even get here?”

“You tell me.” Chenle rolls his eyes. “You were drunk in a bar downtown and you called me and I went to pick you up. Weren’t you supposed to be staying sleeping over your crush’s place today anyways? Unless…”

The puzzle pieces are slotting together one by one, at the expense of Jeno’s throbbing head. He’s definitely had too much to drink.

“He got called back to work last afternoon. An urgent job he can’t sit out on. It feels rather odd staying in his apartment without him. Like I’m invading his space, you know?”

“And you’re not invading my space now?”

“So should I leave?” Jeno squirms under the quilt to leave but the action is half hearted because Chenle can’t possibly be serious about kicking him out.

Thankfully, Chenle isn’t that heartless but he makes him continue his story. He talks about the dates, if he can even call them that. He talks about how loneliness chips at his heart and how he would hate for him to associate that with Renjun’s apartment. To battle his loneliness, he does the unthinkable – he takes a train down to New York. It’d be such a waste if he just waited for his flight after he’s travelled this far. It’s been a while since he’s been there, where there’s the buzz and people. He didn’t even know if Chenle was in New York then.

“You’re crazy sometimes. I like that.” Chenle laughs at Jeno’s recklessness, especially when he travels so much for work.

“It’s just a little bit of luck,” Jeno frowns.

“You are wicked lucky.”

What isn't all that lucky is that Jeno finds himself stripped to his boxers. For that, he has no logical explanation. It makes him uneasy and he’s determined to find out the root of the cause, even if he has to suffer from embarrassment.

“Did we- uhm,” Jeno blushes.

“You can say fuck, you know? We’re not 15.” Chenle rolls his eyes as he says, “Also, how dare you doubt me. I’m a decent human, alright?” His eyebrows tilt inwards, the skin between his brows furrowing, his lips pressed firmly together. There is a flash in his face and his expression morphs when he speaks, the straight of his lips transforming into various shapes.

Jeno isn’t a prude – he had his fair share of experiences. Out of curiosity, he tried Grindr during his university years. Of course, his heart was still reserved for Renjun then, but he would hate to look like a bumbling idiot if he ever worked out the courage to sleep with Renjun. In retrospect, he knows that sleeping with random boys was no cure for his lack of experience. The first time had been painful so he told himself that next time would be better. He rates the whole experience zero out of five, and after three tries, he deleted the app. His hands are good enough on the rare occasion when he’s in the mood to jack off and on the even rarer occasion, when he wants fingers in his ass.

“You puked all over your shirt, thankfully not in my apartment, so I threw them away. I might have peeked at your abs though,” Chenle laughs, throwing his head back and igniting a string of firecrackers in his belly. Jeno’s face feels a little warm.

“You what?”

“Okay, I definitely stared at your abs.”

“No. Before that.”

“I threw away your shirt? Shit, don’t tell me your crush got you that shirt.”

“No, but you can’t just randomly throw away people’s shirts?!”

“But it was white and there was no way to save it.”

Jeno has never met anyone like Chenle, so he doesn’t know how to deal with people like him. He still finds himself a teensy bit upset because what if Renjun had been the one that had given him the shirt? He might have cried. Ultimately, there’s truth to Chenle’s words and he lets out a defeated sigh.

Chenle squeezes his waist lightly and says, “Hey, I’m sorry okay? I’ll get you another one. The same brand too, if you remember which one it was.”

“It’s okay,” Jeno shrugs the topic off.

“You’re still upset. It’s not about the shirt isn’t it? I’m a firm believer of not bringing my problems into the next day. So tell me, what has gotten your panties in a twist?”

Jeno fumbles for his words and when he speaks, they tumble out of his mouth. “I tried it.. Flirting I mean. He just asked me whether I’ve slept. Granted, I was running on 3 hours of sleep that day. Then, when I met him, it was even worse. He just cooed, called me cute and told me I’ll be his Prince Charming for life.”

The song ends and there’s radio silence – except in New York, you can always hear the sound of a vehicle passing through. Chenle chews on his bottom lip, speechless for once. He gets why. Renjun can be really ridiculous at times.

“Sorry,” Jeno blurts out.

“For what?”

“Just you know, in general, for bothering you so much.”

“Don’t sweat it.” Chenle pats his thigh, humming, “ Treat it as if you were employing me. I’m your bitch now.”

“Bitch, huh,” Jeno laughs, “Speaking of which, when are you telling me exactly how much you are charging?”

“I’m still thinking,” Chenle dismisses. It sounds like he hasn’t given it any thought but he drops it — after all, Chenle is a busy man.

Chenle smacks Jeno on the shoulder, the clap of skin on skin loud. It hurts more than Jeno expects and when he inspects his shoulder, there is a hand-shaped red mark there. Jeno feels the bed dip and bounces back as Chenle slips away.

“Pancakes or waffles?” Chenle shouts. Jeno half-expects him to be hanging around by the door frame, looking at him with an inquisitive head tilt. He’s not there though. It’s easy to forget how loud he can be sometimes when he’s so soft around Jeno – late night conversations in hushed whispers over the phone.

“Pancakes,” he shouts back. His eomma will be displeased, she raised him to reply with respect — definitely not to raise his voice— but his bones are liquid and staying in bed is nice.

“Seriously? A pancake fan in my home?” Chenle exclaims but Jeno can hear the laughter in his chest.

“If you hate pancakes, why did you ask?”

“Well, 'cause you're the guest and-, why are we screaming?”

“You started it? Nevermind, I’ll come to help you out.”

“No! Stay in bed! Rest, please. I swear I got this!”

That’s a hint that Chenle does not actually have the situation under control. His built-in kitchen is far too pristine and neat in contrast to the rest of his home – enough for Jeno to figure out that the banker rarely uses it.

Jeno stretches his legs out and swings them over the edge of the bed and when he stands on both feet, he’s a little dizzy, like he hasn’t woke up fully yet. He spends what feels like a full minute just standing there, palms on his kneecaps, bent over.

That’s when he spots a black article on the marble flooring, half covered by the shadows of the bed frame. It looked like it was stuffed under the bed frantically and it piques his interest. He kneels down so that he can get a closer look without the aid of his glasses that is nowhere to be found. He lifts up the fabric which is light and examines it for a second. When realises what it is, he drops it like he’s burned. It’s a pair of black lace panties with garters, clipped to stocking socks.

He gulps and his face flushes. He hasn’t seen panties in a while, especially since he moved out of the family house, hours away from the female figures in his life. His throat becomes dry when he considers how he had been sleeping on the exact same spot Chenle gets laid. He tries not to imagine Chenle pounding into a random girl on the bed but it leaves him thinking about how he might have potentially chased away his one night stand when he called Chenle, drunk and needy. The guilt curls in his chest. Poor girl didn’t even have enough time to put on her panties.

After Jeno finds his glasses at the bedside table, he puts them on and his view sharpens. There's a large window by the bed, one that allows him to look down onto the city. He can see bypassing traffic on concrete roads. Stray skyscrapers peek from behind other low rise apartment buildings, projecting themselves to reach for the skies. The city is a mosaic of modern buildings contrasted with historical ones and residential blocks. The assortment of buildings huddle together in a cluster, like penguins in the winter, creating a sense of homeliness.

The morning sun paints New York in an angelic glow, soft light to wake the inhabitants of Manhattan up slowly. The light is stronger at some parts, reflecting off glass façades, blinding even from afar. On the building two blocks away, he sees a man smoking on the red fire escape staircase. The smoke slowly drifts upwards until Jeno can no longer make out the white smoke. Jeno could sit here all morning and watch the city slowly wake up.

Jeno is lucky he reaches the kitchen before Chenle pours the whole bag of flour into the bowl. Who even puts water before flour? Chenle laughs when Jeno grabs the wooden spatula and the flour with an exasperated sigh, but observing keenly as he narrates the process. Not that Jeno has anything substantial to teach. He recalls his eomma’s words, “A real chef doesn’t need measurements.”

Jeno works up a sweat mixing the batter and Chenle offers to take over. He stirs the mixture a few times, then lifts the spatula and tries to lick the uncooked batter stuck on it.

Flustered, he tries to save the batter (and Chenle’s stomach) by snatching the spatula away. He exerts more strength than he means to and the motion causes the batter to splatter over the wooden kitchen counter. Chenle laughs as he wipes down the surface while Jeno burns with shame at the mess he’s made. When he tries to help but his host just waves him away.

“It’s fine, I got it. Just cook the pancakes,” Chenle says. Jeno can only nod.

To his left, the coffee machine whirls into life, grinding the coffee bean into powder. The aroma fills the kitchen instantly, the smell of caffeine making him more awake.

The heat of the stove makes Jeno sweat, droplets of sweat forming on his forehead and the back of his neck, but his gaze remains fixated on the pan. He’s determined to make the pancakes perfect if that means he doesn’t have to look at Chenle.

The scent of coffee and pancakes combines into the perfect aroma of breakfast.

“Scoot over,” Chenle says, a hand on Jeno’s waist guiding him to the left. It stays there the whole time while he cooks the bacon with a pair of chopsticks. The warmth of his hands tingles but Jeno doesn’t shake him off.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Chenle says. That’s when Jeno finally breaks out of his weird headspace. He looks at Chenle, paying close attention to his side profile– clean cut jawline, a long, triangular nose and high cheekbones. He’s all angles but there’s softness too, in the curves of his eyes and the dip of his dimples. His lips are supple and red, likely from dehydration and too much lip bites —

Was he staring?

At least he catches himself before Chenle does. Their eyes don’t meet during the whole process. He returns to flipping pancakes and finds the base a darker brown than the rest of the pile.

“I’m happy to be here too,” Jeno replies.

Memory has a strange way of working.

The recollection of his ‘under the bed’ discovery comes back when he’s drinking his Americano and he almost spits it back out. He swallows the liquid down with tears pricking his eyes. He doesn’t know it’s possible to suffer second hand embarrassment for being embarrassed at the thought of panties — other than the fact that he’s gay, he respects women too much.

Self-conscious, he peeks over the rim of his black mug to check if Chenle is judging him. He totally deserves it but Chenle’s attention is fully on his food. Watching him shovel the pancake in his mouth, his lips shining from the maple syrup and stained with berries leaves him with a strange feeling. He hopes that the banker finds the panties and returns it to his one-night stand, even though it doesn’t sound like him at all.

The next time he sees Chenle is a whole month later, when he waltzes right into San Francisco again. Jeno doesn’t actually see him because the banker is busy making rounds at SoMa and the Mission District, but he does post pictures on his Facebook, back in his suit. He’s shaking hands with another executive and his smiling, his round eyes narrowed and his grin sly.

The subsequent tagged photos are grainy because of the horrible lighting in the restaurant but he looks happier with his team. There’s a natural flush on the bridge of his nose and the apples of his cheeks. He doubts it's the alcohol – Chenle holds his liquor well.

Chenle:
I was just about to text you!
Anyways I have half a day before my flight back. It’s your turn to entertain me now.

That’s how Jeno finds himself sneaking Chenle onto campus. Not that he has to, Chenle dropped by his apartment for a change of clothes. He’s dressed down in jeans and one of Jeno’s extra USFCA hoodies and he blends right into the crowd.

The green on Chenle reminds him of older days, when they were students themselves. The sleeves are long but the rest of the hoodie fits like a glove, the shape of his chest prominent. It seems like he has hit the gym more since their last meeting.

They enter the USF Lone Mountain, grass framing the symmetrical pair of brick red steps. They are curved inwards, two arcs forming an incomplete circle. There are bushes and trees in the vicinity, providing a pop of colour against the beige structure. Large block letters of ‘USF’ are cut out onto the grass, decorated with round patches of daffodils.

“I didn’t think I’d come back,” Chenle says as they walk up the central steps. He makes Jeno take a photo for him, his lean figure framed by the arch of the entrance above.

When Jeno sees him through his mobile screen, he finds that he’s seeing Chenle all over again. Not the playboy in college but Zhong Chenle, the laid-back but serious bachelor. Not quite what meets the eye. Perhaps Jeno needed a reminder to not judge a book by it’s cover.

“You dislike USFCA that much? Is it business school? I mean, we’re not exactly known for our business programme.”

“I wanted to go to Massachusetts, where Harvard is, or to New York. I just wanted to get out of California.”

“What happened?”

“Had a fever during my SATs. Did not do well. Moved to San Francisco for university because I got a grant and realised that I got to hustle if I really want to get out on my own.”

“Well, you’re in New York now, living your dream.”

“Yeah,” Chenle utters. After that, he stays uncharacteristically silent and his gaze is far away. Jeno follows his line of vision, looking beyond the steps that they just climbed up. They set their sights on the cityscape, on the low rise buildings. The fog has crept up to the far edge of the city, in a peculiar way that felt like home to Jeno.

Chenle eventually breaks the silence and says, “I’m everywhere most of the time but I love Manhattan so much.” He turns as he’s speaking. The happiness shines in his eyes, catching light like a sun-catcher, sparkles scattered in his eyes. Jeno finds himself smiling and Chenle smiles back, revealing neat rows of pearly white teeth.

When Chenle returns to his side, he places a hand on Jeno’s back and says, “Your crush. It’s Huang Renjun right?”

“You found out.” Perhaps he should have thought twice before sharing the photo album Renjun tagged him in.

“I said I would. I should’ve suspected it was Renjun. The drunk you might have given me some tips too. You kinda rambled about how long you’ve been in love and how scary it was back then.”

“Coming out was rough. Let’s just stick with that,” Jeno sighs. It’s a touchy subject and his hands are moving against his wishes. He pushes the bridge of his glasses up to keep them from doing the freaky finger dance, as Renjun likes to call it. Chenle holds the hand that is limp by his side, then his thumb is rubbing the skin between his thumb and pointer finger gently.

“Damn. Since uni though. How do you hold it all in for this long? Why do you even like him that much?”

That’s the thing: Chenle challenges him and makes him think, makes him peel off the band-aids he has put on his decade-old wounds and stare at them. He’s brutal and Jeno has only seen the tip of the iceberg.

Jeno doesn’t respond immediately, he just keeps walking until they reach the Wolf & Kettle Café, their hands still attached. He turns around and faces him, to which Chenle stares at him and points his chin in his direction. His arms are crossed, waiting for his answer. Is that one of his students from Cell Biology? He squints but only catches a glimpse of her ponytail before she makes a turn into the washroom.

He’s pulled back into the moment with Chenle squeezing one of his hands softly, his eyes just as fierce but fond. He’s not making fun of him, not teasing him for being stupid and wasting his youth pining. Jeno finds his walls breaking down a little more.

“I love the way he laughs. It’s the most beautiful sound in the world and I would like to be the one that causes it. When I imagine a relationship, it’s always with Renjun. He’s been there forever and knows everything about me,” Jeno eventually says.

“Knows everything other than the fact that you’re in love with him.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure he knows in some way. It’s just that we have so much history and our bond is so unique that the word love can’t hold a candle to it. It’s just-,” Jeno chokes on his words, “It can’t be explained with words and it doesn’t help that I’m bad with them.”

“Well, I could try, though, do correct me if I’m wrong,” Chenle says, before rubbing his chin where stubble has grown out. The hairs are short, likely a few days since he last shaved.

“It seems to me that you are the slow love type. What is it called again?” Chenle snaps his fingers, his eyes looking up to recollect his thoughts. “Storge! Who knew that mod I took in freshman year will be useful. Yeah, so your love is slow and stable. Typical taurus, if I may say so. You feel comfortable around Renjun and you don’t love him based on pragmatic reasons or specific details. You’ve known him for so long that you just love him as a person because your connection is deep.”

Jeno gets goosebumps from the accuracy. It feels as though Chenle has taken out his brain and translated all those nonsensical feelings into English.

“And what about you? What’s your love style?”

“Probably Eros. Fast and furious but it’s clothes falling before I do.”

“We are a terrible match then,” Jeno comments nonchalantly.

It makes Chenle laugh while throwing his head back. The cackles ring in the rather empty cafe and Jeno’s electrified by a sense of deja vu. His eyes are drawn in curves and tears shine at the corner, which Chenle rubs off.

“You’re so blunt it’s funny. I might have rubbed off you huh,” Chenle says. “Wonder where the polite professor I met in Japantown went.”

That sure puts a thought in Jeno’s head, one he shelves away for a later time.

“It’s my shift for the lab now,” Jeno says. “Unless you want to crash for a little? I can sneak you into the lab. My partner isn't here today and I know you still have two hours before—”

“Yes, Professor Lee. I would love to see you in a lab coat,” Chenle smiles. “Are you going to make me your lab rat?”

“I test on bacteria, not rats.” Jeno rolls his eyes but he feels the grin tugging on his lips. Inside, the joy in his chest blooms.

Later that night, he finds that Chenle posted the pictures he took at the entrance. The caption reads, “Back to my roots! USFCA ✌🏻 Thanks to Jeno Lee for bringing me around.” He likes the post and replies that it was no problem at all.

The influx of messages coming from Renjun following that is surprising but welcomed. Jeno too, can be rather gossipy when he’s in the mood, not always participating but always listening. Come to think of it, Renjun and Chenle would get along well. They always like chatting about alumni when the chance arises, acting as Jeno’s informants.

Jeno gives a summarized account of his bump-in with Chenle but excludes all the relationship advice, just that they hit off better than he imagined. It’s part truth.

Their relationship progression exceeded his expectations, especially since he did not have the best impression of Chenle during college. He was too suave and perhaps the fact that he got to sleep with Renjun formed a lasting impression but it’s all in the past. Perhaps there really is a right time and place for relationships to grow.

The school term starts again and it’s another semester of new faces to remember. He tries to get acquainted with the class list at first, but they turn out to look vastly different in person.

Life resumes at a breakneck speed, as if someone pressed the pause button on a recording of Jeno’s life.. If he’s not in the lab, he’s working on his thesis. At least his research committee members, Shotaro and Elly, are hardworking and working with them has been an immense relief. He still tries to call him eomma every weekend but recently it’s been hard to find the energy to make the trip down to Sacramento.

Jeno feels his phone vibrating in his pocket during tutorials, which ruins his handwriting on the whiteboard but he continues anyway. When it doesn’t stop vibrating, he has to pause his lecture to turn off vibrations. The missed calls are from Chenle and for a moment, he’s tempted to pick it up but that wouldn’t be professional of him.

Later, when the students are filing out of the room and his next class is coming back in, he dials for Chenle. He makes a point to wave at the incoming crowd as he waits for Chenle to pick up.

“Why did you take so long?”

“I was in a tutorial. Another class in five, so...”

“Okay, long story short. I have to attend an event and it’s an afterparty. I need a plus one, so Jeno, do you want to go with me?”

“Chenle, It’s the middle of the semester and I hate parties. Maybe ask one of your friends?”

“Come on, you know I don’t have any friends.”

“Lies, lies,” Jeno nods his head.

Chenle’s whining when he begs, “Please. I really don’t want to bring any of my shitty friends. Jaemin would just try to seduce all of my clients and Donghyuck can’t be trusted at any point.”

Jeno considers, but what he says is, “What about your one-night stands?”

“They’re called one-night stands for a reason, Jeno. Alright, if you really don’t want to know you can just say ‘no’. I won’t be offended.”

“It’s just, I’m not good with crowds and people. You know me. I talk to my bacteria cells and maybe sometimes Renjun.”

“And me,” Chenle cackles over the speaker.

“And you,” Jeno repeats – it’s true that Chenle had settled into his routine. Even if they only meet every few months, they talk every day.

“I haven’t been to events like these and I don’t think turning up in jeans is exactly appropriate.”

“You didn’t think I would have the nitty gritty prepared already?”

“What? You assumed I would agree? What if I had been busy with my thesis?”

“Well, you aren’t and don’t you miss me? It’s been two months.”

“Gosh, you’re impossible,” Jeno groans. “Alright. I do miss you.” That and he really needs a break too, he rationalises.

“You’re so good Jeno,” Chenle says. Jeno can hear his smile over the phone and he imagines his lips stretching out.

“When is it anyways?”

“First week of October. You’ll be on term break right?”

Jeno flips his planner open and searches for October with one hand.

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“Alright. Last thing, we are going to Florida.”

“You mention that now?!” Jeno laughs in disbelief, until he realizes that his students are looking at him funny. He coughs and hangs up, adjusts his spectacles and starts with his lesson.

Jeno lands in Tampa, Florida around noon on the day of the party. He collects the keycard from the hotel and when he checks in, Chenle’s luggage is already there. The suitcase’s body is black, sleek and shiny but when he moves closer, he can see the scratches on the surface.

There are two beds, around two metres apart. Chenle’s luggage is next to the left bed, the side closer to the alcove where the beach is in sight. Jeno sets his hand luggage on the bedside and unpacks some necessities so he can wash up.

When Jeno enters the washroom, he spots the muted pink blazer hung on a hanger. Beside it, there are pants of the same material and colour. It is ironed and there is a white triangle of fabric peeking out from the chest pocket of the top. When he lifts the article, he finds a peach-toned open-neck button down beneath it. The fabric is smooth and cool to the touch despite the Florida heat.

The card reads, in Chenle’s chicken scrawl:

The suit does fit Jeno perfectly and a step up from his usual wardrobe. He swapped out his glasses for contacts and he looks sharp. If he stares at himself in the mirror, only Chenle knows. Instead of laughing, Chenle asks him to keep the suit, says pink was never his colour anyway. Jeno would have thought the banker’s masculinity too fragile if he hadn’t seen Chenle in pink during college.

Chenle will say the event was an utter bore, which he later admitted was the reason why he asked Jeno to be his plus one. For him, doing his job well is good enough but alas, networking is still important in his industry.

If you asked Jeno, he would have said the crowd is nerve wracking, especially when most of them are respectable figures with executive positions and some merely socialites. They have spent half of the event gossiping over champagne, where it was mostly Chenle talking. Through the whole event, Jeno’s only takeaway is that his partner knows a lot of people.

On a few occasions, Chenle leaves him at the buffet table to speak to key leaders. There is free flow alcohol, so Jeno drinks the fancy champagne they serve, with his pinky pointing up just to be extra. It puts his staple cheap wine to shame.

A businessman in a maroon dress shirt approaches him. He introduces himself as Jung Sungchan, an acquaintance of Chenle. He offers a name card and it reads, ‘Financial Analyst’. He expressed his surprise at Chenle using his plus one for once, whatever that implies lost in the wind. Jeno probably crossed his drink limit long ago, but he never learns. Free alcohol is free alcohol after all.

Half of their second day in Florida is spent curled up in bed nursing their hangover. Habits are hard to ditch and when Chenle wakes up at 8:30 am, Jeno draws the curtains shut and drags the banker back to bed. His bed is too small for two grown men but he stacks them together like lego, his chin hooked over Chenle’s shoulder. Soon, he is drifting off and the next time awake, it’s past noon.

They grab a quick bite before hitting the hotel gym. Chenle insists on keeping up with his fitness routine so Jeno joins in. He likes working out for his mental health, to keep him afloat when things are overwhelming so he skips out during vacation.

Jeno decides on a simple jog on the treadmill and follows Chenle’s workout routine for fun. They are using dumbbells to train the arms. The tank top Chenle dons does leave very little up to imagination. He’s ripped, to say the least. Jeno has to look away when the baby blue fabric is stained dark, plastering to his muscles, skin shiny with sweat.

Jeno is not going to feel self-conscious now, he’s worked out enough to be proud of his body. He still rolls his sleeves up and does his reps extra seriously because Chenle’s looking.

It is a short walk to one of the Tampa Bay beaches from their hotel. By the time they had room service for lunch, it’s already late afternoon. They are still dressed in their workout clothes, that's if Jeno’s attire can be counted as such – a large I love California tee and khaki shorts – because he didn’t pack for the occasion.

The air is warm and salty when he takes in a deep breath and stretches his sore limbs. The sun glistens on the surface of the ocean and an energy thrums underwater, sending crashing waves onto the sand. It creates a mirror that reflects the exact same orange hue of the sky, the surface rippling as the breeze picks up.

The wind whips his hair into a mess but leaves his cheeks warm. If he reached out and touches Chenle’s face, he’s sure they'd be as warm. They are a rosy pink that makes him blend right in with the backdrop of warm colours. He huddles a little closer to Chenle when they settle under a beach umbrella, pants be damned.

The heat seeps through the fabric and his heart feels as warm. Ever since moving to San Francisco he's grown to love staring at the ocean from Baker’s beach near sundown, especially when he needs to think. If it’s not too foggy he can also see the Oakland Bay Bridge. Right here, the sea is boundless and it stretches to somewhere farther away, to a place he can’t see.

Jeno frames the sea with the silhouette of the long trunks of palm trees — spread out all over the beach — before he snaps a photo. In the middle ground families having picnics, a couple swimming and a Golden Retriever running turn into vague figures. The number of visitors have dwindled down since it’s sunset, past the prime time to get a tan. When he spots a child swimming, it makes him smile.

“What are you smiling at?”

“I’m not telling you. It’s something stupid.”

“Really? Last chance to tell me. You’re gonna regret it if you don’t.”

“I don’t think so,” Jeno shakes his head.

Sometimes Jeno forgets that Chenle is just a man-child outside of his suits and that is dangerous. He commits this to memory with the tummy tingles of Chenle’s tickle attack, halted only by Jeno raising the white flag.

“The sky is really beautiful and it makes me smile?” Jeno suggests,

Chenle deadpans and rubs his palms like the gremlin he is.

“Wait, I’m not done! No more tickles please.” Halfway through his squirming, Jeno has fallen on the sand and curled into himself to protect his tummy.

“It’s just that no two skies are the same and that’s beautiful. Just being here, breathing on the salty scent of the ocean and hearing the seagulls makes it all the more memorable.” Jeno slows down when Chenle lowers his hands, spread behind him on the sand.

“Plus, I usually prefer taking pictures of things around me than of myself, you know?”

“Yeah, it’s obvious from your Facebook.” The only picture showing his face is his profile picture, taken by his mother when he drove home for Thanksgiving a year ago.

“Yeah. So I don’t really like to photograph people that much and sometimes I get annoyed when I’m trying to take a picture and people are in it. But now, right here, this scenery is picture perfect as it is. It’s such a beautiful moment and I feel really sentimental, like, I could cry. It’s silly.”

“It makes sense. I mean, I’m not as poetic as you but I do think this moment is beautiful. Gosh, you have such an artistic soul, Jeno.”

Renjun, too, calls him an artistic soul trapped in a scientist's body. Jeno thinks that it’s because his childhood friend is an artist and he sees art in everything. He sees the beautiful and the ugly, the good and the bad, the kind and cruel. He observes and appreciates them for what they are. So when he says he sees art in him, Jeno’s afraid that he’s on the other side of the coin.

“Will you take a photo of me?”

That breaks Jeno out of his reverie. Chenle reaches out to pull Jeno up, dragging him closer to the shore. He poses dramatically and makes silly expressions as if he knew that was exactly what Jeno needs. Laughing until he cries seems to be a recurring motif with Chenle. Half of the photos turn out blurry but he gets at least one good one where Chenle is checking his hair on his phone screen.

They spend the rest of dusk roaming around the beach, sandals left on top of sand. Jeno pulls up his khakis and dashes into the ocean, as far as he can without making his clothes wet. They definitely won’t be able to dry overnight.

“Come join me,” Jeno teases.

Chenle points at his clothes as if to make a point but Jeno doesn’t care whatever expensive brand he uses.

“Then take it off! We’re at the beach!”

Jeno thinks he sees Chenle roll his eyes before he makes a mad dash towards the sea while screaming. His legs are long and pale, a flurry of milky white skin blending in with the ivory sand as he leaps forward. His steps are accompanied by the splash of seawater, the waves moving in tandem as they crash against his calves. He jumps in the direction of Jeno, catches him by the waist and steadies him.

Jeno’s next breath is short and the exhale shaky. When they are this close, he can smell a musky scent from underneath the salt. They stand face to face and he sees his own reflection in Chenle’s dark pupils. His gaze flickers down and Chenle’s lips are cracked. When he looks up, Chenle is smirking.

“I’ll throw you into the ocean.” Chenle’s arms worm their way around Jeno’s waist and his hold tightens. Jeno grabs onto him – if they are falling, they are falling together.

“You won’t!”

“I just might,” Chenle says. Contradictory to his words, his palms holds him closer by the small of his back.

The fragile moment is broken when Jeno sneezes.

“We should go back to our room,” Chenle says. His left hand remains on Jeno’s back when he guides them back to the shore.

They take turns showering – Jeno first. He still can feel the steam shrouding his body after using the bathroom. He’s wrapped in a robe and his limbs spread out on his now made bed. Chenle’s bed is neat as well, with sheets tucked under the mattress. If he slides to the edge, he'd see that the baggage on the floor is still in a state of chaos.

The orange light from the bulbs sets the room with a warm but dim glow, the optimal brightness for a nap. Jeno sets his glasses on the bedside table and allows himself to melt onto the mattress. In a state of stillness, he’s more attuned to the movements of his body. It feels like he’s still swaying in the ocean, nudged by the waves. When he closes his eyes, he can picture the beach and his body in seawater. The tides rocks him asleep, like one would do to a baby.

When Jeno’s shaken awake, he feels out of sorts, as if he’s slept for days. The clock tells him that it’s 7:45pm, which means that he only slept for half-an-hour. It also means that Chenle spent the same amount of time in the shower. He probably used the bathtub like the fancy guy he is. Chenle is dressed in a robe identical to his, the sash tied haphazardly to the side. There’s a dark look in his eyes, but it disappears in a flash.

There seems to be a lot of twos on this trip: two pairs of robes; two bottles of wine in the fridge; ordering room service twice. They are just too tired to go out for dinner.

What’s a vacation without lazing in bed until you feel boneless?

There’s only one menu in the form of a door hanger, so Chenle reads out the dishes one by one before Jeno asks him to randomly pick something. His voice is deep and syrupy when he climbs on his bed to reach the telephone. For a moment, Jeno wonders if that’s the voice he uses when seduces his partners. Perhaps he should take notes.

Did he hear steak? Of course, leave it to Chenle to pick the most inconvenient meal just because it’s fancy as hell.

When the doorbell rings they fight over who should get the food for a minute before Jeno gets frustrated and groans and slides off the plush bed. It plays out exactly the way Chenle wants, because the other man only laughs but makes no move to get up and help. It’s all a game to him.

Despite everything, Jeno thanks the staff with his classic eye smile before he lets her in. The staff takes off the dome-shaped metal lids and reveals two plates of steaks with gravy poured over and two measly servings of beans. The woman sets the plates on the round table near the window, along with cutlery and napkins.

When she wishes them a good night, she stares at Chenle a tad bit longer, where his robes are riding up and reveals a flash of thigh. He notices her gaze and holds his pose, his head propped up by his palm under his chin. He bites his lips, definitely on purpose, but he’s looking at Jeno. To be at the receiving end of his dark gaze is electrifying.

There’s a cough, the girl visibly flustered and Jeno catches a glimpse of her flushed cheeks before she skitters out of the room.

“Dinner time! Since you’re already up, can you get the wine too? Thank you so much Jeno,” Chenle giggles, dragging the ‘o’ of his name out. It signals the end of whatever just transpired. If that’s what flirting is, Jeno thinks he’ll cringe before he can perform the deed. That, or Renjun will whack him because he’s most likely making a stupid face.

“Hey, this is good stuff,” Chenle comments when he brings the wine over to Chenle’s bed.

“I'venever had this brand before.”

“It’s from my parent’s winery,” Chenle exclaims before he adds, “And I swear I’m not biased.”

“The more I know. Zhong Chenle, you're full of surprises.” He accepts the glass that Chenle passes him and takes a sip. It’s strong with an aftertaste of fruitiness that dances in his mouth.

Dinner is a quiet affair, though not before Chenle makes Jeno take a few photos of him posing with his wine glass, long legs out on display. His head is tilted, looking to the side to show off his jaw and the lines of his collarbone pop with the soft light from the room.

By their second bottle Chenle decides to forego the glasses altogether and drinks straight from it instead, head tilted back in a way that highlights his long neck. The veins that Jeno never noticed before stand out and the neck moves with each gulp, one that he mirrors. When Chenle is satisfied, he licks the dark red staining his lips.

“What?”

“It’s gross. I mean drinking from the bottle like that,” Jeno says.

“We are going to finish the bottle anyway.”

Despite Jeno’s outward distaste, he still accepts the bottle when Chenle hands it over. It’s easy to let his thoughts drift to his lips touching the opening where Chenle drank out of. The weight on his hands becomes marginally heavier, just like the imaginary stone in his throat. It’s not a good day to spiral, so Jeno compensates by drinking more. He lets the warm liquid run down his throat and settle in his belly. Chenle takes another swig and the round repeats.

The both of them are squeezed onto Jeno’s bed, Chenle pressed onto his side, giggling into his neck. Jeno feels warm puffs of air on his neck when Chenle tries to whisper something in his ear. When he calls him out, he denies that he’s drunk and says he’s just tipsy.

“I’m not compatible with wine,” Chenle later complains.

That’s minutes before he falls asleep and Jeno, already tucked under his blanket, is too tired to roll over Chenle and walk two meters to his own bed. They stay like that all night, until Chenle is screaming at him and they frantically pack their bags to make it to the airport in time for their respective flights.

The first thing Jeno does when he touches down in San Francisco is to text Chenle that he’s landed safely. As he’s waiting for the YL-N train, he checks through his notifications. On the top of the page, there are a bunch of texts from Renjun during the duration of his flight. When he reads them

Jun💗 :

Hey Jen!

If you ever get a boyfriend, I’ll be the first to know right?

Btw that isn’t a question, you have to tell me okay!

Even before Yeeun-noona.

Jeno brushes it off as Renjun being silly. Of course, he’ll be the first to know – Jeno would have to confess to him first.

Only later, once he finally opens his Facebook feed, does he realise the root of Renjun’s teasing. His notifications are from a post he’s tagged in, so he clicks on it. The caption reads, “What a post-event vacation should be like!”

After taking so many pictures, he didn't expect Chenle to use none of himself. He’s looking at a video of himself, running into the ocean. The video pauses abruptly when Jeno turns and his eyes turn into a pair of curved moons.

Lee Donghyuck:

Lee Jeno?!?

Na Jaemin:

Cutie 🥰

Jung Sungchan:

That looks fun. Dammit! I should have booked my return a day later.

Huang Renjun:

Florida baby!

Jeno returns back to campus on Wednesday of fall break, a day after his flight.

He’s armed with souvenirs for his group since they had to cover for him while he was gone. There’s a pair of shot cups — a vector graphic of purple palm trees against a round orange representing the setting sun — and a fridge magnet. He also brings along homemade sandwiches for the three of them, partly as a repayment for the favour.

They are having a meeting at one of the empty tutorial rooms and Jeno reaches fifteen minutes early since he lives near the University. Only Elly is there when he arrives, flipping through a Forbes magazine. It isn’t very common for someone from the science field, but she’s unpredictable like that. She’s also had a fashion phase where she poured over fashion magazines, but that was when she was in her sophomore year. Jeno takes a seat opposite from her after passing her the gifts. She accepts the shot glasses with a carefree smile before suggesting drinks together at the end of the semester.

When she asks him about the trip, Jeno sticks with ‘It was alright’, the universally acceptable neutral answer to prevent any more questions. She responds the way he expects, returning back to the magazine while munching on one of the cheese sandwiches Jeno brought.

The next few minutes are spent with his earphones blasting ‘Somebody Else’ by The 1975 and eating breakfast. While he’s dusting off the crumbs on his hand, Elly pushes the magazine in his direction so he pulls one of the earphones out.

“Hey, aren’t they from our uni?” Elly says.

Jeno pulls the magazine closer to him and pushes up his glasses before reading the page. It’s the 30 under 30 spread. He runs through the page, there’s Kim Doyoung, a surgeon who gave up his career for a social entrepreneurship called ‘Preventive Medicine Research Institute’ by partnering with one of the Professors from University of California at San Francisco. Jeno looks up to him a lot even though he’s not in the medical field.

There are a couple of names in other industries he’s not familiar with but he finds a familiar face in there. Very familiar indeed, because it’s Chenle. He’s always dressed like he’s ready for a photoshoot but Jeno notes that he’s had his makeup done, which is new. The smile plastered on his face is the one he’s trained for years, his lips curved at the end. It’s friendly but Jeno knows when he laughs, his pearly teeth that are revealed, including the canine. His profile reads, aged 25, an investment banker not only earns a huge paycheck but also uses his connections to help support social causes.

“I always thought he was handsome,” Elly sighs dreamily.

“Chenle?”

“Oh? I was talking about Jaemin from med school.” Elly laughs, “I showed you the wrong page.” She makes a move to flip to the previous page and he stops her.

“Wait, let me snap a picture first,” Jeno says.

After he’s done, she’s back to gushing about Jaemin but Shotaro bursts into the room, red-faced. He scratches his neck and apologises for being late. Jeno can’t find it in him to be angry when his curved eyes are so adorable. He just teases him before passing him his sandwich and gets them to brief him on what he’s missed.

When Shotaro puts on the Florida tee right before the lab coat, Jeno is reminded of Chenle. He sends the latter the picture. The response is a Chenle classic — a smirk emoji. Jeno can just picture the smug expression on his face and he laughs before sending Chele the Debbie Ryan meme.

Jun💗 :
Jeno, quick!
Guess who I’m meeting today!

Jun💗 :
No fun! I asked you first!
Well, I’m running out of time so I’ll just tell you it’s Chenle.

Jeno has to admit that Renjun really got him good with that one.

There is just no logical explanation for how their worlds would collide even though New York is technically close to Philadelphia. It either is pure conscience or it has to be pre-planned, though he can not think of any reason for their meeting.

It can’t be that, right?

That, as in the best friend talk. The movie cliche where the protagonist’s best friend will give to her boyfriend, which ends with the girl threatening the protagonist if he ever hurt her. Renjun thinks that there’s a thing that is going on between him and Chenle. He doesn’t want Renjun having the wrong idea so he’s mentions, very persistently, that there is absolutely nothing romantic going on between him and Chenle. Renjun agrees to disagree and soon after, he’s teasing him again.

It makes him feel like a child throwing a tantrum, screaming internally for Renjun to see him as a man, not just one version of Jeno over the many years they’ve been together. There are some he isn’t proud of. He’s frustrated enough that he admits there’s someone he likes more; enough to bare his heart and whispers Renjun’s name softly. Jeno hears Renjun suck in a breath over the speaker and he holds his breath. Renjun doesn’t laugh but he warns Jeno that he better always be his number one, because that goes for him too.

This is the closest to a rejection that he’s ever received.

There’s a voice in his head – Chenle – that asks, “Have you considered just asking him if he’s down to bone? I think that would be way faster.”

(They have had this conversation . It ends up with Jeno being ticked off and crying out, “Have you considered that I don’t just want to sleep with him? Not everything is about sex.”

Chenle’s lack of a clapback gives him momentary satisfaction. Watching Chenle’s face fall over the screen made him consider taking it back momentarily, undo the yelling and go back to playful ‘I miss you’s.

And the worst is the week-long radio silence – the longest week he’s felt this year. They both can be stubborn. Jeno is not that petty but he doesn’t want to give in for once.

Jeno knows he can be extremely petty when he wants too, but he eventually reaches out to Chenle again. This isn’t the first clash they have, unsurprising considering how different they are.

When the topic of sexual attraction arises again, Jeno admits that he’s never felt that other than Renjun. When Chenle understands his position, he seems more supportive. He even offers to share a contact with someone who is in a similar situation as Jeno. He’s surprised to find out that the person is none other than Na Jaemin. It’s sweet that before Jaemin talks about his sexuality, he tells Jeno that labels are just meant for guidance. It doesn’t mean that how Jeno chooses to identify is now set in stone.)

Jun💗 :
Don’t get your panties in a twist.
It’s for work.
[attachment]

The picture Renjun sends him is one of him and Chenle in front of a painting. Renjun’s black hair is slicked back with gel, revealing his cute, egg-shaped face. He’s not just smiling, his eyes are twinkling despite his eyebags. He’s wearing a nude blazer over a white button-up, tucked into fitted pants in the same colour that ends slightly above his leather shoes.

On the contrary, Chenle is dressed down today, at least compared to his usual get up. He’s wearing a maroon blazer and black pants. He has his arms casually thrown around Renjun’s shoulders, his fingers in an inverted peace sign.

They look good together. A power couple. They have so much in common — their fiery souls and strength that Jeno knows so well. It makes him feel proud but jealous. He’s used to being jealous when it comes to Renjun but it’s strange that he feels the same for Chenle too. It makes him uneasy to imagine the two of them become close. It isn’t as if they would leave him behind, right?

Jeno shoves the thought aside, because his logical side knows that he has too strong of a bond with them for that to happen. He focuses on packing his luggage for Thanksgiving break.

Near Thanksgiving every year, the museum Renjun works at hosts an art auction for their well-known collection, be it vintage or modern art. He really doesn’t understand how splashes of colours can be sold for millions but the best part is that fifty percent of the proceeds are donated to charities in anticipation of Christmas.

Jeno liked the museum's Facebook page and when he sees how much they raised, he immediately dials Renjun's number to congratulate him. As expected, it goes to voicemail. He is probably busy clearing up the event and sending the paintings to their new respective owners.

When he calls Chenle, he picks up under a minute.

“Hey Jeno. Miss me already?”

At the same time Jeno says, “Renjun told me that you turned up for the auction today.”

“Yeah, I did. Don’t dodge the question.”

“No. It’s only been a month,” Jeno whines. “I didn’t know you were into art.”

“I’m not, but I have some clients who are and I merely spread the good word.”

“That doesn't explain why you had to be there in person.”

“I just wanted to see the infamous Huang Renjun. I wanted to know who I’m dealing with,” Chenle admits.

“. So, what do you think?” Jeno doesn’t know why he’s nervous — he doesn’t need Chenle’s stamp of approval, he’s never needed any validation for his decade-long love.

“I can see why you like him,” Chenle says with an air of casualness. It's more of an observation, but Jeno feels like the comment too much when by himself in his rented apartment in Golden Gate Avenue. He can hear his roommate in the common room, but he still feels isolated.

Jeno is simply a fool in love, as much as he hates to admit, so he asks Chenle to elaborate.

The laundry list goes on forever, but of all the things, Chenle first mentions Renjun's passion in his work. He talks about how sharp and fiery Renjun is when he announces the bids. He talks about his pretty smile and how warm he is when he speaks. The more he talks, the more Jeno realises that these characteristics can also be applied to Chenle himself.

It seems that Jeno attracts the same type of people. He doesn’t have that many close friends, but he considers Chenle one now, so it is jarring that there are so many similarities between the two.That includes how they both prefer to date casually. However, deep down, Renjun is still a romantic at heart. He’s learned to accept that there’s nothing shameful in wanting romance even though it rarely plays out like the movies. He’s not so sure about the case for Chenle though — he seems like he suits the bachelor lifestyle.

They talk until Chenle reaches his home in New York. The dinner Jeno’s roommate cooked for him has already gone cold.

“Renjun told me there’s been a boy.” His eomma brings up the topic when he helps her with the dishes, a classic scene taken out of fiction.

“There is no boy, eomma.” Jeno switches to Korean. Bad mistake on his part.

“You know it’s okay right? I have already convinced appa that being gay is normal a long time ago. You know it’s okay to talk about your boyfriends right? It’s not a shameful thing,” his eomma says.

The issue is that there is no boyfriend. There’s only Renjun and Chenle,each their own individuals — labels beyond them.

Jeno ends up placating her with, “I will tell you when I get one.”

When, not if, because even Jeno wants to believe that there will be someone who loves him.

December is quiet but busy. It slips through his fingers like sand and scatters everywhere. He juggles consultations, invigilating final exams, meeting with professors, working on his own thesis and trying to keep himself sane despite everything. He sticks to his workout routine and clings on to the endorphin spike to keep the momentum in his life. His team had hoped to finish the entirety of his research by the end of the year, with one semester to spare but it seems like it's not going to happen. Who knew viral replication could be so fickle?

Before mentally preparing himself , he’s driving north, back to Sacramento for Christmas.

You can never be ready for relatives asking if you have a boyfriend for the umpteenth time and worse, if he’s finally ‘settled for a girl’. Not to mention the lack of privacy and family feuds, which he anticipates would be less intense this year since his paternal uncle isn’t flying in for Christmas. Truly, God Bless.

A Christmas playlist accompanies him during his drive and Mariah Carey belting to ‘All I Want for Christmas’ makes his mood perk up. He lowers the volume and thinks of things he’s looking forward to. Definitely the food and seeing Yeeun-noona after a year. Renjun is also flying back and this causes mixed feelings. Sure, he misses him and his hugs but he’s also nervous.

The car stereo plays ‘Back to December’ by Taylor Swift. He hopes it isn't a bad omen.

“Aigo, you’ve become uglier since the last time I saw you.” Yeeun pinches Jeno’s cheeks and he sighs.

“Noona, can’t you choose a normal greeting,” Jeno whines. He hugs her for a full minute and she rocks him in her arms. The ends of her bob length hair tickles his cheek and he brushes it away gently.

“I missed you, lil bro,” she squeezes him a little tighter.

“Okay, enough being sentimental.” She pats his back and she says, “Put your stuff in your room and let’s help mom. There's a ton of shopping to do, so you’re driving. Let’s drop by Target first?”

It’s packaged as an excuse for sibling time, away from the prying ears of relatives. Her way of making Jeno talk is more roundabout — she shares about her work trip to France and crazy tales from New York fashion week. When he mentions that he dropped by New York too, she has her arms crossed in indignation while she rambles on about how disappointed she is. Too bad Jeno’s used to picking up on her moods and knows that she’s not really upset.

“Who in New York is so important that you forget about your noona?”

“Well, there’s Taylor Swift and Emma Stone,” Jeno says. It makes Yeeun slap his shoulder in laughter.

“Okay understandable but knowing you it should be a boy.”

When picking out potatoes, he does tell her about Chenle. How it’s only been a year but he’s so thankful to have met him. The stupid dating lessons and how far he’s come with accepting that he wants love. He also tells her about Renjun. She's less surprised about the crush himself and more about how long he's been hung up on him.

“Some people have it hard,” Jeno comments offhandedly, his attention focused on selecting a fresh pineapple.

“You’re choosing to have it the hard way. You two live in two different states and you’ve had plenty of time to get over him.”

“I don’t want to cut him off just because he doesn’t reciprocate my feelings.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth. You don’t have to break the friendship, just take a step back.”

“I’m going to ask Jun out properly this winter,” Jeno confesses. “Can you help me to pick out some flowers?”

Yeeun picks up a bunch of red roses because it’s classic and the romantic symbolisation is clear. If Renjun still doesn’t get it, Jeno is going to kiss him. This time not on the cheeks, but square on the lips.

Their cart is full when they are done shopping and he’s wheeling it to the cashier.

“You go first. I forgot to pack pads,” Yeeun announces before dashing off to grab a pack.

The cashier waves him over and he recognises her as a high school classmate. It’s awkward but he greets with a nod, lest she realize that he’s forgotten her name. They make small talk and he defaults to talking about his thesis, foregoing the technical details. She nods as she scans the items, never quite looking at him.

“By the way, I just saw Renjun,” she says, finally meeting Jeno’s eye before returning to her task. He’s frozen on the spot but she continues, “Didn’t you two used to be chummy? Always sticking to each other.”

“We’re still in touch,” he smiles. His head is spinning, racking his head about what he’ll say if he bumps into him. He breathes and reminds himself that it’s just Renjun. Nothing big, just his Renjun.

“Jeno!”

There someone calling out to him from behind, a voice that feels like warm sheets fresh out of the drying machine and the scent of fabric softener. Just a moment ago, he was quaking in his boots but hearing Renjun’s voice sparks confidence in him. Oddly enough, hee feels that everything is going to be okay. After all, they've been friends for so long.

Jeno turns and he swears it felt like a movie scene. It really is Renjun, dressed in an oversized white Adidas tee and black sweatpants. With his black hair he looks young, like he could still be in college. What makes Jeno realize that the moment is real is that they don’t run towards each other like the leads in a romance film would. Instead, he throws him a shy wave.

The rest of the world comes back into focus and Jeno spots Yeeun beside Renjun, linked at the arm. Her eyes have a certain softness she reserves for Renjun, her second unofficial brother, but she’s looking at Jeno. That’s when he spots a tan figure lingering behind them, one that he recognized to be Donghyuck Lee. He’s heard enough of him from Chenle and seen and has seen him plastered over the news.

It’s enough to warn him about the events that are about to transpire. In his head, the news anchor reports about the first hurricane that’s about to hit California since 1858. As much as he wants to run away, he can’t ditch Yeeun with all the groceries. He’s an adult for fuck’s sake. He can deal with this civilly.

Jeno waits for Renjun to check out his things and his sister returns to his side, packing their items into recyclable bags and loading them back into the cart. She squeezes his hands gently, out from Renjun’s sight.

“Don’t say anything,” he whispers through gritted teeth. She doesn’t. She just laces their fingers together and presses their palms together.

The wait calms him down an infinitesimal amount, enough for him to feel level-headed but the back of his neck feels tight from gritting his teeth. His free hand is squeezing the handlebar of the shopping cart, the veins popping up with the pressure. It keeps him grounded when Renjun is grabbing onto his bag of things and Donghyuck pays with his card.

“Jeno, my best friend,” Renjun introduces him.

Do they really have to do this at Target? He might have to shop at Walmart for the rest of his life due to the induced trauma.

“Ah, I know you. Always thought you were sick at hockey. Chenle talks about you a lot too,” Donghyuck snickers at the last sentence.

“Yeah, I caught him when he was back in SF for work. We talk now and then.” Jeno knows he’s downplaying it.

“Jeno, meet my boyfriend, Donghyuck,” Renjun says. He’s looking at Jeno with those round eyes as Donghyuck holds his hand out in greeting. He telepathically sends a signal that he’s counting on Jeno to make a good impression.

That's the least Jeno can do for the love of his life, so he lets go of Yeeun’s hand in favour of a handshake. Donghyuck’s hands are calloused, his fingers a little shorter than Jeno’s but his grip is firm. His face is soft but it balances well with how sharp his eyes are. It seems to say, ‘I will take good care of him.’

Jeno feels a spike of anger, because how dare he. Then, the guilt swallows him whole because there’s nothing but sincerity in Donghyuck’s eyes. Somehow, Jeno knows that Donghyuck is genuine and whatever they have, they are serious about it. He doesn’t deserve to feel so utterly bitter when Renjun is not his, at least not the way he wants.

So, he puts a smiling face when he jokes about how it was damn time for Renjun to settle down. He’s never found it so difficult to make his eyes smile too, to put on a convincing show when he claims he’s happy for the both of them. He feels a million arrows sink into his heart but it’s not Cupid and there is no heavenly music, only Ariana Grande singing ‘Santa Baby’ in the background.

“It’s been nice catching up with you. I’ll see you at Christmas dinner, Renjun! Eomma is rushing us back,” Yeeun steps in. She bids them goodbye before dragging Jeno back to their parking spot.

Mentally, Jeno is building up walls again. Yeeun tries talking to him in the car but he shuts her down with a stare. When he drops her off at home he keeps the engine running as he unloads the groceries. When he makes his way back to the car, she can only sigh but brings him a coat. At times like this, it’s when he’s the most thankful for her — even when she calls him a stubborn taurus.

The headlights help to guide him to where no one would go in the middle of a winter night. It’s only five in the evening but it’s already dark.

The playground is empty as he’s expected, devoid of screaming children and thus the perfect place to think. The chain rattles when he settles on a swing. He kicks the ground and sets himself into motion. The metal hinges overhead screech, stiff from the cold.

When he tries to think, he draws a blank. He dials for Chenle and prays that he keeps his notifications on 24/7, even on vacation. They have talked about Christmas plans and Jeno knows he’s going back to San Jose for the holidays.

“Jeno? Everything okay?”

It’s like Chenle can read him.

“Why wouldn’t things be?”

“You said you might not call because of how loud it gets during Christmas but there’s not much background noise now. Don’t forget I’m also part of your confession plan and the fact that you are not screaming in joy is concerning,” Chenle rambles. He doesn’t say it, but Jeno catches the hidden behind his words.

“You’re expecting me to get rejected? Wow, you have such little faith in me,” Jeno rants.

“Of course not, you have the best coach in the U.S.,” Chenle jokes. It makes Jeno scoff, lightening his mood.

“You do sound a little sick though,” Chenle comments.

“It’s just the sniffles. I’m at the park for some peace.” Jeno wraps his woollen coat tighter around his body.

“Hey Jeno, you do know that you can talk to me right? Whatever you’re struggling with. Not just about Renjun.”

Jeno winces when his name leaves Chenle’s lips. Too bad Chenle is sharp as hell and doesn’t miss even that. Too bad Chenle isn’t the type that lets him pretend his problem doesn’t exist, even for a while.

“So, I was right?”

“If I said yes, would you be happy?”

“Are you crazy? Of course not. Answer my question directly, please,” Chenle says.

“Yes. Gosh, yes. I didn’t even get to confess. Instead, I got a “Hi, this is Donghyuck Lee, my boyfriend.” Renjun never brings boys back home so they’re serious and I don’t stand a chance.”

“Jeno,” Chenle chokes out his name, “I didn’t know. Sorry”

“It’s okay.” It’s not, but Jeno doesn’t know what else to say.

“I know everything is a little confusing now but don’t do anything rash.”

“You know that I’m not that impulsive.”

“Good,” Chenle sighs in relief, “I do know, but people are capable of frightening things when they are hurt.”

“I’m giving up on love instead. Like you,” Jeno says.

“Baby… Don’t say that please. You’re the sweetest boy on earth. There will be someone who will love you.” There is so much conviction in Chenle’s voice that it makes him scoff.

“Love isn’t real. It can’t be — what I’m wishing for is…” Jeno chokes up. “It’s something unattainable. It doesn’t exist, at least not for me.”

“I’m probably terrible at giving love advice but I know what love isn’t. Love isn’t a box, it’s not a romance movie. If you love him, then that’s love, isn’t it? It doesn’t matter what society thinks of love, it doesn’t matter what people make you believe love is. Even if it’s one sided, it’s still love.”

There are a million rebuttals running through Jeno’s head. He used to think that just loving was enough — that it meant his feelings are pure, irregardless of reciprocal. What started as a glimmer of hope grew into greed for Renjun’s affection, which boiled down to nothing at the end.

“Oh you know so much Mr. I Sleep With Whoever I Want,” Jeno seeths.

“Why are you being so difficult, Jeno? I don’t care about what you think about my arrangements, they’re not relevant in our conversation. I just want you to be okay.”

“Well, I’m telling you I’m not.”

The line goes silent for a minute and Jeno’s too stubborn to hang up first.

“I genuinely didn’t know they were going to end up dating,” Chenle ends up saying, in hopes of breaking the silence.

“Well, I didn’t think he would date anyone at all. It was foolish to hope that I was the exception,” Jeno says.

“You aren’t foolish. Love makes people blind most of the time,” Chenle says.

It’s easy for Chenle to say when he’s had perfect eyesight for his whole life. When he catches the bitter tone in his internal monologue, it feels as though he’s sober again. If this conversation goes on any longer, he might say things he usually wouldn’t. There’s no logic behind ruining one of his closest friendships just because he's hurt. He hangs up after promising to call back another time. Chenle is understanding that he needs breathing space.

Jeno doesn’t contact him for the rest of the break — a week turns into two, then suddenly, it’s been a month.

Most of winter is spent thinking, which means that Jeno is driving down to the beach whenever he can make time. His last semester isn’t very forgiving, not to mention that there are, there are job applications and interviews to fuss over. There’s also the bigger issue of whether he wants to seek employment in another state. While there are local opportunities, he’s been thinking that perhaps it’s time to see more than California. Perhaps starting afresh would do good for him.

Naturally, this conversation comes up with Shotaro and Elly when they are lamenting over the near completion of their thesis. There have been loads of setbacks and running around in circles but they’ve done it, they are so close to the end. It’s time to take the next step.

Shotaro admits that he’s considering a career in academia. He’s definitely been shy during the first year when they had to tutor undergraduates but has become increasingly popular amongst freshmen. Shotaro and him were two of the handful that continued tutoring in the second year even though it wasn’t required. He’s easy to approach and his classes are easy to understand. Sometimes Jeno gets too much into his head and forgets that he’s teaching freshmen. Even if they could definitely pay better, the university really needs passionate tutors like Shotaro.

On the other hand, Elly has decided to pursue her PhD after all. She's been accepted into Harvard and Jeno is incredibly proud of her.

Besides, how Jeno would prefer a microbiology laboratory position, so he’s just looking for jobs in that area. His professor has very kindly recommended him a few posts, mostly based in California but there’s one in New York. It stands out for a reason he can't explain and he ends up applying on a whim. After that, he includes New York in his location filters.

The seasons transition from winter to spring, just like how he’s writing the next chapter of his life. Despite this, Jeno’s still hung up on how badly he ended things with Chenle. At least he’s still on talking terms with Renjun because he’s able to squash down his feelings after he cuts off the remaining hopes of romantically sharing a life. Slowly but surely, things fall back in place again, save for one last piece.

Renjun asks him to stop fighting with Chenle after hearing about it from Donghyuck. He says Chenle is good for him, like he would know. Jeno just hopes that Chenle has not told Donghyuck the entirety of their story.

God, he really misses Chenle.

There is honestly nothing stopping him from calling Chenle right now, right from Oakland Bay Bridge where he is staring at the blue sea. It doesn’t make it any easier when he thinks back on all their interactions and realizes that there were budding feelings for Chenle somewhere in the middle but an extension of what he felt for Renjun. He really doesn’t want Chenle to think he’s a rebound because he deserves better than that.

Early spring, Jeno gets a sign in the form of a postcard. The picture taken looks like a scene out of Chinatown, with multiple boards with big blocky mandarin characters in purple, red and green. The street signs are yellow, written in English and Chinese. The picture is really busy and cluttered that he almost misses the ‘Hong Kong’ written at the bottom in a pale blue font. When he reads that, he immediately knows who sent it. He recalls Chenle’s posts from Hong Kong last month. He’s spent Chinese New Year over there too, Facebook gallery full of bursts of red.

His hands are shaky when he turns the postcard, which only has one line written in the text field, over:

It’s a simple message but it touches Jeno’s heart. He doesn’t need dramatic exclamations of love and flowers. All of that is just skin-deep — the chocolate crust of a Ferrero Rocher. The crust isn’t that important to him — he prioritizes the solid core and the knowledge they both want each other just as much. They don’t even have to be in love.

Distance does make the heart fonder afterall. Despite the miles separating them, there is nothing stopping him from calling Chenle, even if just to hear his soothing voice again. He's anxious and there are butterflies in his stomach. Don't get ahead of yourself, Jeno.

"Jeno?"

"Hi, I- uhm. I got your postcard." Jeno settles for that. He hears Chenle suck in a gentle breath.

"I just want to tell you that I missed you too and that I'm really sorry for blowing up on you. I'm sorry for being so stubborn and such a pain in the ass."

"I’m sorry too,” Chenle says, “I just wished you would move on faster for you sake, but it wasn’t in my place.”

"I'm sorry."

"Hey no more apologies. If you really want to say it, fly to New York and say it to my face," Chenle says.

"Is it bad I really want to see you now? Is that moving too fast?" Jeno asks.

"No, god, Jeno, I'm saying I want to see you too."

"It's not like you to beat around the bush," Jeno comments.

"Maybe you've rubbed off on me. That explains why I'm moping around," Chenle complains.

"So, spring break? That's in two weeks."

"I'll be in LA. That's fate, isn't it?"

Jeno doesn't know if it's fate or coincidence, but he'll take that leap of faith. Hopefully Chenle will be there to welcome him when the time comes.

It's a six-hour drive down to Los Angeles. Jeno moves from cityscapes of San Francisco to low buildings and expansive blue skies when he drive past Pacifica. The sky is cloudless and it feels like it would collapse on him but they blend right in with the ocean on his left. The drive up the Cabrillo Highway is spent admiring the Pacific Ocean on his right, when it is not blocked by tiny hills. There are trees flagging the road from Montara all the way up to Moss Beach, through the Cabrillo Highway again.

The true excitement comes when he's driving past Half Moon Bay, the road running right beside the ocean.. When Jeno winds down the windows, he can hear the crashing waves and wisp of conversation from tourists. The breeze tickles his cheeks when he opens his window and the smell of ocean and salt brings him back to Florida even though the beaches he drives past are rock, not sand. It keeps him humming through the long drive through Half Moon Bay.

The rest of the drive is a blur other than Santa Cruz, where Jeno takes a break at McDonald's. The plain fields at Watsonville are memorable. After Monterey it's back to a long drive on the highway, but he's driving next to the ocean on the long winding roads. He's back on the highway for a really long time. When he finally reaches Los Angeles, he’s on the brink of collapse. He could use a nice massage and a meal now.

It's evening when he reaches LA so he picks up Chenle near Century City, a business district. The relief is immense when he sees Chenle walk out of the office lobby. He's dressed in his custom-made suits and his hair is slicked back. He doesn't see Jeno at first, but when he does, he has his million dollar smile on that makes Jeno feel like his heart is about to burst. It's unexplainable but cliché in a way he embraces.

Once Jeno reaches the pick up point, he gets out of the car to help Chenle with his baggage. Before that, he holds his arms out for a hug and Chenle reciprocates easily, winding his arms around Jeno’s waist. Being in Chenle's embrace makes Jeno feel warm and fuzzy. His nose is buried in the nape of his neck when he sniffs the strong cologne instead of his musky scent, he frowns and grumbles. Chenle calls him a big baby.

It's back to hotel stay, this time reimbursed by the bank Chenle works for. It's a short stay so Chenle doesn't ask for an upgrade, which means that they will be sharing a bed. This is not not their first time doing so, but considering Jeno's newfound feelings, he feels somewhat shy.

This time, Chenle takes a shower first. It gives Jeno enough time to unpack what little baggage he has brought to Los Angeles. It's all packed into a mini-carrier, which contains one extremely important item. It's the key to the success of the trip.

Jeno pulls out a file that contains a document. It’s extremely thin but sturdy and he runs a finger over the plastic surface, glances over the document. The term is loosely used, because it is more of a napkin. Not just any napkin, but a McDonald's napkin with Chenle's looping handwriting and both of their signatures at the bottom (He snuck into his professor's office to borrow his laminator.)

Speaking of the devil, when Jeno looks up from the file, Chenle is out of the shower with only a towel wrapped around his waist because he wants to give Jeno a heart attack. His abdomen is defined but Jeno keeps his eyes on Chenle's face. The way he shakes the water out of his hair and then combes it back is effortless and leaves Jeno's heart racing. His palms are sweating, in spite of how cold the air feels.

"Shower's ready," Chenle says. Like a shower is what Jeno needs right now.

"Okay. Can you sit down?" Jeno pats at the bed, his grip on the laminated napkin tightening.

Chenle does as he's told and he looks at Jeno with those round eyes that are so dark, he can see stars in them. It would be so easy to get lost in them and lean in to kiss him, so easy that he has to physically shake his head to get out of his trance.

"Do you remember this?" Jeno asks and hands the napkin over. It takes a second, but Chenle’s cackling when he recognizes it.

"Oh, you're so freaking cute. You really laminated a napkin?"

Jeno blushes in embarrassment and he protests, "That's not the point! The point is that on the napkin, there's the written clause that says you are responsible for finding me an alternative in the case that Operation: Get Renjun Huang is a failure!"

“You do know that it is not a valid contract, right?” Chenle interjects.

“Because it’s on a napkin?”

“Because there wasn’t consideration on your end. You didn’t promise to pay anything, thus the contract is void.”

“You wouldn’t let me!” Anxiety crawls up his throat and Jeno is fumbling for his words. This is not what he expected. He wasn’t taught much about contract law other than what to look out for in employment contracts.

"I'm saying that I want you to be the replacement," Jeno blurts out. That’s until he realises the implications of his replacement and he puts a finger to Chenle’s lips.

“No, wait, you’re not a replacement,” Jeno quickly corrects. “ I just used the words in the contract but what I mean is that I really fucking adore you and you make me feel so safe. You’re so amazing and I would love it if you’d let me stay by your side and be there for you.”

Jeno feels a spike of adrenaline and he wills himself not to run away, to keep his eyes on Chenle.

"You're so silly," Chenle laughs. Then, he's surging forward, his hands caging around Jeno’s waist. His eyes are dark but full of want instead of stars. That's when Jeno realizes that Chenle wants this just as much as him and the relief is so immense, it feels like his heart is dropping from the sky at rocket speed.

It’s less embarrassing to show how eager he is when both parties feel the same. He climbs onto Chenle’s lap and when he straddles his thigh, he has the pleasure of feeling the muscles flex under him as his lover hoists him closer. My lover, Jeno thinks and it makes him giddy. He’s leaning forward and the bridge of his spectacles bump into Chenle’s nose.

“You’re eager. Such a good boy for me,” Chenle teases him and it makes Jeno’s whole body flush.

The first kiss is slow and soft. He feels the glide of chapped lips on his softer ones, his nose bumping against Chenle's. There's no bursting fireworks like the movies but he's so full of love, it feels like he's threatening to overflow but he needs more. He's so greedy but so unsure so he presses his palm to the small of Chenle's back. There’s a whine at the back of his throat but he can’t find his words – he just wants Chenle so much that it’s overwhelming. He wants to kiss him properly.

Thankfully, Chenle gets Jeno's message so he leads the kiss, runs his tongue over his bottom lip. He thumbs the corner of his lips gently, silently asking for Jeno to open. As soon as his lips are parted, Chenle is licking into his mouth, slow and tentative at first, giving Jeno time to explore. He’s shy, so he focuses on nibbling on Chenle's bottom lip. He must have done something right, because his eyes are narrow but pupils are dark and focused on him when they pull apart. It makes Jeno shudder; makes him feel like prey even though he’s the one biting.

It takes them a while to hit their stride, but when they do, there is so much spit. Their tongues dance with each other, just like their limbs, restless to map out and trace over every patch of skin they can find. He can feel the tickle of Chenle’s stubble on his chin as their lips meet. He feels so warm everywhere, like a star burning. When Chenle moves down and kisses the spot of skin behind his ears, he shudders and turns to putty in his arms.

"You're so pretty," Chenle whispers in his ear, blowing at its shell after and watches as Jeno crumbles. It tingles right where he left a kiss.

"Then kiss me," Jeno whines.

Chenle nibbles on his lips, drawing a whine from Jeno. He wants Chenle to touch him more, but he’s not sure exactly what he wants, so he tugs on Chenle’s shirt. His lover looks at him with his eyes dark with lust. His lips are a shade of pink, similar to the blush on Chenle’s cheeks. Jeno feels himself flushing the longer they hold their eye contact and he’s hyper aware of the hand on his thigh. It’s moving up and down in a manner that is supposed to be soothing, but Jeno finds it hard to calm down. They eventually lock lips again and it gets heated, exchanging spit when their tongues glide over each other.

"Babe slow down. I'm hard," Chenle moans. Now that he mentions it, Jeno can feel his clothed boner digging into his hip bone.

"Seriously? I'm that hot huh," Jeno laughs.

"Yeah, you really are," Chenle whispers. When he speaks, he sends puffs of warm air against Jeno's lips. His eyes are glazed over like he's in daze and Jeno takes advantage of it to give him a peck. It startles Chenle but he stays when Jeno lies on his abs and hugs his sides.

"Wait. You don't have to do anything if you don't want to," Chenle mumbles, running his fingers through Jeno’s hair. He preens and leans into the touch.

"I don't think I'm ready to have sex yet," Jeno admits. His mind kind of blanks out when he thinks about it. He's worried that he wouldn't be able to pleasure Chenle and he panics.

"I'm going to jerk off in the shower. You can watch if you want," Chenle offers.

"Okay. Let me get my shower stuff."

"Let me see you naked too."

"Okay," Jeno says. His cheeks are burning from both the make out session and intense heat of Chenle's gaze.

Even when his layers are peeled away and he’s standing bare, he doesn’t find the sexual context stifling. He knows he can take his time with Chenle.

That night, Jeno is wrapped around Chenle as he drifts off, the heat between them dissipated like the steam from the shower, leaving him feeling soft. They are past the point where they need clothes and it leaves him with the luxury of feeling Chenle’s skin burn where he’s pressed against him – his arm on Jeno’s waist, chest on chest, legs tangled together and his lips touching his throat.

There’s a stray thought that lodges into his brain and bugs him so he verbalises it.

“Since when?”

Chenle hums, leaving kisses on Jeno’s throat. When he speaks, he sends vibrations on his throat.

“When?”

“Since when have you liked me?” Jeno asks, running his fingers through Chenle’s hair.

“Oh baby, from the start. Please tell me that you at least knew I was flirting with you on the first night,” Chenle mumbles.

“I kinda did. But you also made me kiss that blonde boy so that was confusing.”

“It was fun though, no? I didn’t think you would actually do it but I fucking love you for that.”

“For kissing another boy?”

More kisses littered on his neck, lips dragging against his jaw.

“You’re braver than you give yourself credit for,” Chenle says.

“You make me brave,” Jeno says.

Their lips fit like lock and key, the movement gentle. Their foreheads are touching and Jeno can imagine the look on Chenle’s face. He traces his finger over his face, over one of the prominent cheekbones and his closed eyelid, lets his thumb fondle Chenle’s facial hair, short and prickly under his hands. His lashes must be fanned out, which makes them softer than he usually is. His gaze is piercing as beautiful as his round, dark eyes are, like a dark night. When he’s excited, his eyes become a window that looks out to the Milky Way.

Their story doesn't end there — it has barely begun. Perhaps the story never ends, at least until death.

In June, Jeno graduates with his Masters in Microbiology and Chenle is there. He's always been there, over long video calls as Jeno packs whatever he has in his tiny apartment in Golden Gate Avenue. He's there to receive his belongings in New York. The decision wasn't easy and Jeno has no idea what cohabiting entails but he's ready to try with Chenle's hand in his.

("Why don't you come live with me if you get the lab post in NY?" Chenle offers.

Jeno is hesitant at first. They've just begun dating and he doesn't want to define their relationship by living together so early on. Heck, even Renjun and Donghyuck aren't living together yet. There's so much commitment with cohabiting and learning so much so quickly, including things that tick the other off.

"I'm barely home. You can just treat it like your place when I'm gone and if we run into any issues, we'll cross the hurdle then?")

It is a blessing that Jeno makes the walk to the podium in one piece, no slip-ups, and accepts his certification while he shakes his professor's hands. He smiles at the professor before turning to the camera. A flash blinds him for an instant but takes it as a cue to get off the stage.

When he exits the hall through the side door, Shotaro is there too. He is dressed in a black graduation gown lined with yellow at the neck and wearing a graduation cap. It matches with his silver hair. When he opens his arms, Shotaro reciprocates with a hug. They couldn't have done it without each other. Amidst the struggles and hardships, Shataro has grown to be one of his precious friends.

Elly is already seated in between their seats when they return. They sit through the rest of the ceremony with their heads on her shoulder. She complains, but pats both of their heads and talks in a low voice, about how they’ve made it. The speeches are long but at least their cohort is way smaller than the Bachelor degree one.

Jeno is buzzing with excitement when they exit the hall and the hallway is filled with chatter. It's swarmed with people smiling or crying with their loved ones. In a haste to find his mother, he takes long strides and many head turns before he spots his eomma's pale pink cardigan. She’s not looking at him so he follows her line of sight, slightly to her left — a head of familiar raven hair.

His boyfriend and his mother seem to be getting along and Jeno’s so proud. He approaches them stealthily but Chenle's hawk eyes find him and then he's running. When they find each other, Chenle is kissing his forehead and his arms are circled around his waist. He knows he's squashing the flowers — red roses and baby's breath – but he doesn’t want to let go.

Until his eomma clears her throat and Jeno hugs her next. She smells of the same laundry softener she's been using ever since Jeno was a child and the sweet, floral scent is comforting. Her petite frame is small in his hold and he holds her tighter. He hasn’t cried since he was fifteen, not even when the Renjun saga happened, but now his eyes feel moist. It’s unexplainable but Chenle catches the moment of vulnerability .

"My son, all grown up now. And he has a man too," she says, patting his back. He wipes his unshed tears before he lets her go.

“Chenle, dear, can you take a picture of us?”

“Sure,” Chenle says, reaching into his back pocket for his phone. He’s dressed formally even though he doesn’t have to, possibly to make a good impression on Jeno's mother. The thought makes him delighted and his lips stretched smile on their own accord. He poses for the camera, holding the rose bouquet on one hand and his eomma’s waist with the other. When the camera flashes, he smiles with his eyes, the same smile that Chenle admitted he loved dearly.

“Wait.”

Chenle scans the photo with a serious face and there is a miniscule shift when he spots something out of the ordinary. He walks towards the mother-son duo, the small folds on his white button up flexing.

“Here,” Chenle says as he tucks Jeno’s hair behind his ear gently. “It must have moved when you were walking.” That’s all he says before he moves the yellow tassel from the right to the left. The look is his eyes can only be described as tender.

“Thank you,” Jeno says, starstruck. He snaps out of it only because he’s eomma’s stare is so intent he cannot ignore it.

Once they are done, his eomma offers to take one of him and Chenle. They are both holding on to the bouquet in the first photo. For the second shot, Chenle has both of his arms wrapped around Jeno’s waist. He feels so small in his arms and it’s honestly not a bad feeling. When he’s distracted in his thoughts, Chenle sneaks a kiss in and they end up having a gallery full of kisses because his eomma is a tease like that.

Bonus:

“Then what about the panties?

“What panties?” There is a smirk that slowly spreads on Chenle’s face, like he’s trying to hold it back and what he’s about to say is only the tip of the iceberg. Chenle doesn’t usually hold back, so when he does he’s up to no good.

“So, you must have seen my collection,” Chenle purrs, crawling into Jeno space.

"No, I haven't," Jeno responds. Then he actually thinks about his words and gasps, "There was no girl?"

"Oh baby, there has never been a girl. Sure, I thought I was bi during freshman year but by the time I realised I was actually gay, the Chenle fuck boy image had already gotten stuck. Some girls just want to pretend they slept with me and that's fine. Mostly lesbians too," Chenle says.

"My life is a lie." Jeno hides his face in his hands but Chenle has none of it, gently pulling them away.

“Okay, back to the real topic. What do you think about wearing lingerie? I think baby blue would be so pretty on you. Or black? That’s hella sexy,” Chenle says,circling his pointer finger near Jeno's collar, just above his chest.

Jeno gulps.

“Or we can take it slow,” Chenle withdraws his fingers and Jeno feels his warmth leave.

“I’ve been taking it slow all my life,” Jeno pouts.

“Then come here.” Chenle pats on his thigh. Jeno straddles his thighs but in a vastly different scenario from what he envisioned. For one, there is nothing sexual behind this position they are in.

When Chenle cradles his face and kisses him slowly, he knows that he wants to share the rest of his life with him.