Archive of Our Own ^beta

The sun is a bright beam in the sky, reflected onto the crystalline water below when Jaemin emerges from under. The sand is warm when it greets his toes, yellow and fine between every crevice.

It’s uncomfortable, but there’s a sense of familiarity to it. The same warm sand that greets his feet hello in the mornings and kisses it goodbye at the end of each day. Jaemin grunts to push the board higher between the side of his rib and his forearm until it tucks below his arm. 

The saltwater burns his eyes as it drips from the tips of his hair and trickles into his mouth but he’s grown fond of the taste now. It’s a constant reminder of the waves.

The jog up to shore is exhausting with the weight of the water holding him down and out of breath, he reaches for his towel splayed across the bench. He detaches the string connected to the board from his ankle and wipes his hands on the cloth, throwing it over his dark locks in a weak attempt to block the heat of the sun from burning holes into the back of his head. His suit sticks to him like velcro but once the water dries off a little, he tugs at the zip and pulls it off until the material pools at his waist. The warm wind hits his bare chest, making him sigh. 

He probably still has time to shower, a quick one at least. The sun is already reaching the highest point in the sky.

It’s almost noon and Jaemin knows what that means. Donghyuck should be calling any minute now to ask him if he’s packed his bags or if he’s already at Mark’s place waiting to be picked up. He can almost imagine Donghyuck’s sigh when he gives him the answer he most definitely does not want to hear. 

His bags are packed though, sitting idly next to his phone on the bench along with his other things. He knows he probably should’ve skipped surfing today (Donghyuck and Jeno specifically asked him to) because the trip was at least an 8-hour drive and he’ll definitely be exhausted by the time they get to the resort, but can they really blame him? Jaemin is a man of habit, they all know this. He’s here before the sun rises every day and he loves routine just as much as Donghyuck and Renjun despise it. 

Renjun. 

He wouldn’t even be going on this trip if it weren’t for Mark coaxing him into it. Donghyuck had been talking their ear off, planning this holiday getaway for weeks now and to be fair, Jaemin was fairly excited for it at first too. But that was before he realised he started having… well, whatever it is he’s feeling for Renjun.

That’s another reason he’s here, toes buried in the sand and saltwater soaked in his hair. A reason in the form of carefree smiles, endless optimism and bright eyes. He knew he wouldn’t be able to last the whole 8-hour drive to the resort stuck in a car with Renjun in close proximity without at least shredding some waves before that. 

Jaemin lives for control and depends on it like an old friend.

He finds comfort in knowing that he can have the whole world in the palm of his hand with just a few strokes out into the sea and the board under his feet. The scale of his whole world is 84 inches long, made of polystyrene foam covered with layers of fibreglass cloth and epoxy resin and for the longest time, he’s convinced himself that this is enough. There is nothing else out there that fills him up with more satisfaction than being able to ride a wave, to feel the currents pushing against each other in favour of clearing you a path. 

To feel like a God on the water. No steps out of place. 

But Renjun. Renjun is one big miscalculated step on his part. And Jaemin doesn’t have miscalculations. He moves with precision. He breathes with purpose and on the water, ichor runs through his veins like a calling. But while the water makes him feel like a deity, Renjun never fails to make him feel so, very… human. 

He is the human embodiment of youth, packed in a pretty face and a lean body—a whole head shorter than Jaemin (not that he pays attention). He’s carefree, easy-going and reckless, everything that Jaemin is not and will never be. 

“Thought I’d find you here.” A voice interrupts his train of thoughts. He can recognize it anywhere. 

As if somehow summoned, Renjun stands a few feet away, sun shining on his sun-kissed skin. Jaemin could almost make out the freckles on his face. 

He has a backpack slung over his shoulder and his hair is falling over his eyes so perfectly, tousled by the wind. He’s the token image of a heartthrob through and through.

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

He suddenly feels conscious of his state. Saltwater dripping down his temple and his bare chest out for display, he has half the mind to let the pink colour the apples of his cheeks. Renjun has seen him half-naked more times than he can count throughout high school and college. He even sits in for almost all of Jaemin’s surfing competitions. He doesn’t know why he suddenly feels so vulnerable under his eyes now. 

It’s probably because they haven’t seen each other in weeks, Jaemin’s brain supplies.

“Donghyuck sent me. I was on the way to Mark’s, but he said you weren’t there yet, so I called Hyuck and he said you were most likely still at the beach.” A smile is tugging at the edge of his lips when he says this, almost as if he had berated himself for not realising it sooner. 

Renjun walks closer until Jaemin is really able to see the freckles dotting his cheeks. For a moment, it almost looks like he’s about to knock into him but he quickly bends at the last minute and reaches over for Jaemin’s water bottle on the bench. Without asking, he uncaps it and takes a big gulp. Water trickles a little down his chin then down his throat and falls in droplets on his t-shirt. His throat glistens in the presence of the sun and Jaemin has to pinch himself to look away. 

“I walked all the way here and it was damn hot.” He explains. Jaemin playfully snatches it from his hands, tightening the cap on the bottle.

“Leave me some, I’m the one who’s been out here for hours.” He teases.

“And whose fault is that?”

Yours, Jaemin wants to say, if he’s being honest. But he hasn’t been very honest with Renjun or himself lately so he holds his tongue. 

All this inner turmoil is oblivious to Renjun, who only returns to his typical smile. “So, can we go to Mark’s now?”

Jaemin has been so caught up in his thoughts that the trip had gone right over his head. “Yeah, give me like 5 minutes to shower and we can go.”

He turns a blind eye to the way Renjun’s gaze lingers a little longer on his bare chest. If he’s going to make it through this trip sane enough to try to figure out whatever it is he’s feeling, then he needs to put as much distance between him and Renjun as possible. 

The walk there is unbearable, but not because of the heat on his back. Jaemin has grown accustomed to the tingle of the sun on his skin. But what makes it unbearable is the company. He feels terrible just for thinking so. Renjun isn’t doing anything wrong. He’s simply chatting up on the things he always talks about; his grumpy Psych professor, the newest show he’s been binging, his love-hate relationship with the city. Jaemin has grown used to all these stories, but the thoughts that are swirling in his head are an endless whirlpool surrounding the very person he’s listening to. Renjun might not have noticed, but Jaemin has been actively avoiding him for the past few weeks. He’s been declining hangouts, making excuses to stay up late and study, preplanned surfing sessions with friends—anything to stop his mind from wandering off to visions of carefree smiles and daring looks. 

He knew he would have to see Renjun by the end of the week anyway for their trip, so he took as much time to himself to mentally prepare for it. Although he’s relieved Renjun doesn’t catch on—selfishly, a small part of him wishes he would’ve noticed just a little bit. 

It’s a silly thought but it has lingered in his mind here and there. Renjun is always so caught up in his little world, in his little bubble of ideas, that sometimes, Jaemin isn’t sure where he fits in all that. Being so out-going and approachable, everybody always wants a sliver of his attention. Renjun can walk in a room full of 100 strangers and walk out with 100 more friends and admirers. Jaemin has to constantly remind himself that he’s just a fraction of that number.

“Hey, did you hear what I said?” A shoulder knocks into his.

Jaemin perks up instantly, raising his eyebrows. When Renjun laughs at his confusion, he tries to hide his burning ears. 

“Nevermind. Forget it. We’re here.” Nimble fingers bury into his hair as it ruffles it up. Jaemin can taste the specks of water on his tongue and the smell of sea breeze in his hair. Renjun works like this, in small but bold gestures.

The first thing they see when they make it past the front door is a pair of socks, neither one matching the other strewn on the floor. Mark’s face comes into view only a minute later, distress taking over his features. 

“I can’t find my fucking goggles. How am I going to go swimming without goggles?”

A shirt flies in the air when he ducks back into his room down the hall. 

Jaemin groans. There’s nothing more he hates than not being punctual. Donghyuck has planned the journey for this trip to a T and they’re going to be late just because Mark can’t take a little bit of chlorine in his eyes. 

That familiar feeling starts bubbling in his stomach, churning and twisting his insides. For someone who enjoys control as much as he does, losing it feels like the world is being peeled apart, layer by layer. 

Jeno and Donghyuck should be here in about 10 minutes if their texts were anything to go by. Jaemin does the one thing that always helps and he breaks it down in his head. That’s 5 minutes to look for Mark’s goggles, 3 minutes for him to unpack his bag and secure it back nicely and 2 minutes for them to check on the lights, lock the doors and walk to the car and out the driveway.

A warm hand envelopes his and Renjun makes his brain do the impossible. For a moment, it stops thinking. 

His eyes are met by the dazzling sight of Renjun’s never-faltering smile. “You’re thinking too loud.” He teases. 

“I’ll help Mark find his goggles, you text Jeno and tell him to make Hyuck drive a little slower. We’ll make it there in time before it’s night. It’s a small house and Mark is as predictable as a puppy. He probably dropped it somewhere stupid like the hamper or something.”

He lays it out so smoothly that it almost makes the churning in Jaemin’s stomach come to a halt. Unfortunately, it’s never that easy. But it helped enough that his mind isn’t numb from all the mental gymnastics and he has enough energy to reach for his phone and send Jeno a quick text. 

The goggles were in fact, in the hamper. Mark screamed victory when Renjun fished it out of the hamper, quickly folding it and stuffing in his bag. They even had enough time to tidy the scattered clothes on the floor before Donghyuck honked in the driveway, a hand out the window to gesture them into his Jeep. 

Jaemin calls shotgun as soon as Jeno gets out to help with the bags, giving him a cheeky smile when he gets a whine in return. 

“You snooze, you lose,” Jaemin smiles, already pulling his phone out and reaching for the aux cord. 

“That doesn’t even make any sense,” Mark says from behind but they don’t fight him on it.

For the first time, his motion sickness comes in handy. He definitely does not want to be stuck in the back seat with his thigh pressing into Renjun’s side for an 8-hour drive. (The thigh pressing, yes. But maybe under different circumstances.) 

Jeno checks the bags one last time before slamming the trunk closed, wiggling into the back seat. They all hear Mark groan and whine about being squished in the middle when obviously, Renjun was the smaller of the two. 

He grumbles a lot along the way but Jaemin knows he wouldn’t trade his seat for anyone else’s. Not when he gets to melt into Jeno’s side like that, so painfully oblivious to the teasing smiles all around them. Renjun knows it too if his smile was anything to go by. Jaemin catches himself laughing at the thought when he scrolls through his playlist, leaning on the window as they all hum to the songs. 

When he gets a glimpse of Renjun’s smile in the rearview mirror, so obviously directed at him, he shifts his gaze.

Jaemin fell asleep almost 20 minutes into the journey and was rudely awakened by his friends singing at the top of their lungs from the backseat. They had stolen the aux cord and had dug through the 2000s Hits playlist on his phone, now passionately (annoyingly) jamming out to Classic by MKTO as if their life depended on it. 

The windows are down and he can taste that familiar tang of salt on his tongue. They must’ve been driving for a couple of hours by now, judging by how the sun is touching the horizon and the light floods the car in liquid gold. 

It takes him approximately 1 whole minute to realise Donghyuck is no longer in the driver’s seat but is now joining Mark and Jeno in screaming the lyrics in the backseat. 

His eyes quickly jump to the person in the driver’s seat right beside him, all pretty smiles and wind-blown hair in his eyes. Renjun catches his gaze almost immediately, his smile never once faltering and instead, gets impossibly brighter when he sees him stir. 

Jaemin’s throat feels like sandpaper. 

The sound of waves crashing in the distance floods his ears, and usually, the sound of it would calm him the most but he can’t deny the way his heart jumps in his throat just by looking at Renjun.

Half his face is basked in the warm sun and the light bounces off his cheekbones when he smiles. It’s not great and too much for Jaemin’s addled brain to comprehend. 

Through the loud music, he asks, “How long was I out?”

“About 5 hours or so.”

“Damn, I missed out on all the fun. Anything happened?”

Renjun bites the right portion of his bottom lip, the way he always does when he’s thinking. “Well, Donghyuck almost peed his pants so that was kinda funny. Other than that we just played games and talked shit about you behind your back.”

Jaemin chuckles, low and raspy. 

“So nothing out of the ordinary?” He replies.

He always loves seeing the way Renjun’s body would shake when he laughs wholeheartedly, the kind of laugh that rumbles in his chest and comes out bursting like a song. Jaemin especially loves it when it’s because of him. 

“What’s so funny?” Jeno asks from the back.

“Nothing.” Renjun answers but doesn’t try to hide the fact that he’s still giggling. 

It shouldn’t mean anything but Jaemin can’t help but feel the swell of joy in his chest. Like it was a little secret between them. Just them. 

He hears Jeno whine but ultimately falls back into the rhythm of the song, pulled in by Donghyuck’s singing and Mark’s little dance moves. Renjun starts to sing along too, not as loudly as the three of them but he’s humming at least. 

He has this fond look in his eyes, looking back at the three of them through the rearview mirror. He looks the most beautiful like this—doting, affectionate, adoring. Renjun can have his pick of a thousand friends but he’s here, with them, singing along to overplayed songs from the 2000s with the wind blowing in his hair. 

Jaemin has never been much of a believer when it comes to luck because it’s not luck that pushes him through the water, it’s not luck that makes him glide on waves. It’s skill and patience. 

But right now, he feels so lucky to be here. 

He joins them for the last chorus.

They make one last pit stop at the gas station before arriving, just before nightfall. The sun had been swallowed completely by the horizon and leaves the sky in a blue tint, darkening by the minute. 

The resort is located right at the edge of the sea, villas built on sand and shaded by palm trees. It’s far away from the nearest town and the furthest away from the city that the only sounds he can hear were tides rising and falling in the distance. The resort is surrounded by trees all around and Jaemin remembers being fascinated when they had pulled up at the main path leading to the driveway. The path was decorated with arches that fall over your head, made entirely out of twisted vines.

Renjun goes to find a parking spot and Donghyuck went with him to help with the bags so the rest are tasked to check into their villa. The place is a lot more luxurious than Jaemin had ever expected, especially for a reasonable price. It basically checks all the things he had in mind for a vacation. Even the sound of the waves has him buzzing with excitement. Near the ocean, check. Secluded and quiet, check. Aromatic flowers in the lobby, check. 

He cradles the glass of iced water in his hands and stares out into the beach while he waits for Mark and Jeno to check them in. The beach is right beside the main swimming pool, only separated by a small fence and Jaemin can already see children soaking in the water, splashing around and couples with their feet dipped into the pool. There’s a bonfire somewhere on the beach made glaringly obvious by the darkening sky with the shadow of its flames licking at the sand. 

Just thinking of the relaxing activities has him sighing in relief. 

Renjun and Donghyuck meet them at the lobby just as Mark and Jeno were finishing up. Jaemin can already tell something is wrong when Mark comes to them with a frown tugging at his face. 

“So… good news and bad news.” He starts in the most Mark way possible, with an awkward laugh. It makes Jaemin grow even more anxious by the minute. 

“Good news is, we have our villa.”

“And the bad news?” Jaemin presses on, eager to get it over with. He’s certain only Renjun can hear the distress in his voice. Jaemin isn’t a big fan of surprises.

“Bad news is they’re villas.” Jeno finishes for him.

“Yeah. There’s two. Instead of one big villa for 5, they booked us one 3-bed villa and one couple suite. I tried to have it changed but they’re fully booked for the big villas. But since it was a mistake on their part, they’re cutting the price for the suite in half.”

It could be worse, Jaemin’s head provides even though the churning in his stomach doesn’t stop. It wouldn’t be as fun with a pair from their group whisked into another room but at least there’s a room. And they’re already here. He knows it’s what Renjun would say to make him feel better.

What he doesn’t expect him to say is, “That’s fine. Jaemin and I can take the suite.”

Jaemin is certain his head has never turned so fast in his life. He feels the strain in his nape a second later but ignores it in favour of burning holes into the side of Renjun’s face. 

For the first time in his life, he curses Renjun for being so painfully selfless and sweet.

Donghyuck raises his eyebrow, “Are you guys sure?”

All he gets is a shrug from Renjun instead. “I mean, I’m fine with it. As long as Jaemin doesn’t mind.”

4 pairs of eyes land on him, almost as if on cue. It would’ve been comical if he weren’t the subject of matter. 

Yes, Jaemin minds. He minds very much, actually. This trip was already a challenge as it is and his whole plan this holiday was to avoid Renjun and figure out whatever it is he’s feeling for him. Not so easy when you’re sharing a room with the subject of your deepest thoughts. 

But if he were to decline anyway, what would be his excuse? Nothing Renjun wouldn’t press him for afterwards. 

“Of course, I don’t mind.” He says, even though the words feel heavy on his tongue.

There’s only one bed. Of course, there’s only one bed. 

That’s the first thing Jaemin thinks about when they check into the room. Yeah, it’s pretty and fancy (and obviously decorated for couples with rose petals scattered on the bed, but Jaemin takes that piece of information and shoves it in the deepest, darkest hole in his mind). There’s only one bed.  

Renjun doesn’t seem the least fazed by it and only drops his bag to the floor, plopping messily onto the bed. Jaemin watches the way some of the petals float in the air before falling onto the carpeted ground below, the rest bunched up around Renjun’s head like a halo. 

He fights the urge to smoothen it out and pluck the reds out his brown locks. The thought alone has him dizzy enough that he finds purchase on a nearby chair. 

He doesn’t know how he’s going to make it through the whole vacation in the same room, in the same bed with Renjun. Just thinking about it makes him a little nauseous just like thinking about the first time he ever surfed out in the deep end. It made him so nervous and pumped him with so much adrenaline, he almost threw up into the ocean.

The idea of sleeping beside Renjun in the same bed somehow feels like even deeper waters, uncharted territory. 

“I’ll take left, you take the right side?” Renjun leaves the question up in the air. 

Jaemin pauses his 5th breakdown that day (it’s getting taxing at this point) to survey the room and lets his eyes fall to the large sliding door on the left side, overlooking and leading up to the sandy beach. Palm trees hang over their little villa and its branches fall over the skylight above. A small part of him is happy they managed to book this place because Renjun has always loved the idea of falling asleep under the stars. He’d go on and on about wanting a skylight in his room and Jeno would call him crazy because his apartment was on the ground floor of an old complex that was cheap and nearest to the campus. The only view he would get was his noisy neighbour’s bathroom sink but Renjun dreams are as bold as his gestures and his words. 

When Jaemin’s eyes land on the sight of roses lining the little porch outside, his cheeks flare bright pink the way it does when he’s spent too much time soaking in salt water and the sun. Right. Possible feelings for best friend, couples suite, romantic atmosphere and the like. If his raging heart won’t calm him down as he lays next to Renjun, then the view of the ocean will comfort him enough to lull him to sleep.

“Can I take the left instead?”

There’s a faint smile in Renjun’s voice when he replies. “Sure.”

Surprisingly, it’s not awkward at all. For now, at least, Jaemin thinks. 

Renjun goes about his business like usual, muttering that he’s going to take a hot bath and is clearly oblivious to the never-ending thoughts that are swirling in Jaemin’s head and over time, Jaemin settles in nicely as well, folding his clothes into the closet. 

He decides to fold Renjun’s clothes when he’s finished with his, bored with nothing else to do but wait for his turn to shower. He folds the t-shirts, then the pants and then the t-shirts again when they fall crooked in the closet, squeezed between Jaemin’s own clothes. It’s an odd colour scheme. Jaemin owns too much black and blue and Renjun wears too many earthy tones like brown and red. 

But that doesn’t mean it didn’t make Jaemin’s heart leap a little. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he imagines his closet back home looking like this, the cool tones in his closet mixed with Renjun’s warmer tones—the touch of earthiness to his ocean blues. It’s so, very… them. And they, above everything else, are opposites. Renjun paints the world in bold strokes and Jaemin soothes it by splashing his dull colours.

He quickly shuts the closet door when his mind starts to wander. They don’t work. They won’t work. Jaemin isn’t even sure if he likes him that way. He’s been infatuated before, and sure, it’s a little more intense this time but that’s only because it’s Renjun. He’s intense. 

As if right on cue, the bathroom door creaks open and a billow of steam gushes out the crack, rising the temperature of the air in the room. Renjun emerges, bathrobe and all with dripping hair and a towel thrown over his head. He’s sucking his thumb while he’s wearing a pinched expression on his face as he meets Jaemin’s eyes. 

“Hey, do you have a bandaid? I cut my finger on an edge and it’s kinda bleeding.”

Jaemin instantly makes a face. 

“Stop sucking on it then.” He whines, distaste clear in his voice. Call it his athletic instincts, but the slightest cut always has him shuddering. Oh, the infection. “That’s dirty, come here. I think I might have something in my bag.”

Renjun sits at the edge of the bed, cradling his thumb as Jaemin shifts through his bag, returning with a victorious smile on his face and a dolphin-shaped bandaid. 

“Don’t laugh. I always carry these around.” He says, even though he’s laughing when he sees the look on Renjun’s face. Renjun has his bottom lip caught between his teeth and a smile tugging at the edge of his mouth. He almost always looks like this when he’s trying to contain a laugh. 

“I know you do but it’s funny every time.” Renjun giggles, the pinched expression now completely wiped off his face with a smile. 

Jaemin crouches in front of him, steadying on his heels as he peels the wrapper back. He dabs the cut with a tissue and presses it down with the faintest touch. When Renjun hisses, Jaemin’s gaze instantly flies up, guilty he might’ve pressed too hard until he’s met with eyes looking back at him teasingly. They always look alluring and kind, but right now above all the other times, it feels the most intimate. 

Usually, it was the other way around. Renjun has been in his place too many times, caring for him when he’s sick from too much sea breeze and heat after a full day of surfing. 

No one blames him. Jaemin’s body finds the water like second nature. It’s a constant that never fails him. It’s there when he’s upset, when he’s happy, when he has too much on his mind, like most days. He’ll spend a whole day soaked in saltwater and yellow sand until his muscles collapse and he goes home looking more pale than tanned. And every time, without complaint, Renjun would invite himself over with hot soup in a container, packed and ready to serve. He knows where all of Jaemin’s bowls are, where his mugs are neatly stacked in the back of his cabinet—most of them are there because of Renjun. 

He comes with a smile on his face and doesn’t leave until Jaemin has returned it with a grin of his own at least once. 

All friends do this, he tells himself every time. All friends stay over when you’re sick. All friends melt into your side and hold your hand when you’re upset. It just happens to be a coincidence that it’s never Mark or Donghyuck or Jeno. 

And now here he is, cradling Renjun’s bandaged finger, crouched down in front of him as he’s being stared down tenderly. He knows he doesn’t want to let go—afraid he might shatter this fragile moment, but Jaemin thinks if he doesn’t pull back now he’s going to say something stupid. 

So instead he says, “I think it’s cute.”

“Me too,” Renjun replies, almost too easy. 

He doesn’t want to think whether Renjun had meant the bandaid or him. 

Donghyuck called them for dinner almost immediately when Jaemin got out of the bathroom, dressed in pyjamas. He groaned and complained about changing and how he wasn’t hungry but one look at Renjun’s excited face already has him digging through his clothes. Just because he was feeling particularly grumpy today doesn’t mean he should ruin everyone else’s mood (especially Renjun’s). 

He picks the easiest clothes to get out of, a sweater Jeno had gotten him for one of his birthdays and a pair of hand-me-down jeans from his older cousin. He tries to keep himself from screaming out loud when peers around the corner of the room to see that Renjun has thrown on his favourite green jumper, the one that’s too close to Jaemin’s own size. He drowns in it whenever he has it on and the tips of his fingers barely manage to make it past the edge of the sleeve. 

It has slowly become one of Jaemin’s favourite jumpers, but only when Renjun’s the one wearing it. 

He grabs the keycards to the room and checks his pockets for his phone, “Ready?” 

The resort is even more beautiful at night. 

Donghyuck texted the details of the reservation and what floor to find the restaurant at, but neither of them could deny a little bit of exploration on their way there. Renjun had insisted that they take the footpath just to pass by the garden and the pool to get all the way up to the main building. And Jaemin can’t deny the opportunity to pass by the beach on their way there. The tides are even stronger at night and the wind is blowing the sea salt right into his hair, just the way he likes it. He finds himself smiling at the moon. 

“There it is,” Renjun says aloud. 

The footpath is lined with lanterns and when Jaemin turns to him, he sees the shadows of Renjun’s sharp features take hold. He realises he’s smiling too as they walk.

“What is?”

“That smile,” Renjun explains like it’s the most obvious thing in the whole world. 

It’s only now that he realises how close they actually are, the way Renjun’s hand bumps into his after every step. He tries not to make the bob of his Adam’s apple too obvious. 

“You’ve been distant all day. Couldn’t remember the last time I saw a genuine smile from you.”

Jaemin feels almost sheepish, “I’m sorry. Just had a lot on my mind lately. You know me.” 

“Yeah, I do. And I also know you’ve been avoiding me for the past few weeks.”

Renjun has never failed to catch Jaemin off-guard. Painfully humbled. Deity to human in less than a second. 

He attempts at grasping onto some semblance of pride. “No, I haven’t,” and he knows it's a mistake, the second the words leave his lips. 

“Like I said, I know you.” This time, Renjun stops in his tracks to fully face him, demanding that Jaemin do the same. It gives the wind a chance to mess his hair up in all directions. “And knowing you, means knowing that you wouldn’t have avoided me without good reason. And I trust you’ll talk to me about it when you see fit. All I’m asking is that you don’t leave me in the dark and avoid me.”

Jaemin knows how these words sting but it’s magical how Renjun still manages to etch a smile on his face when he says them. A surge of guilt passes through his veins, hot and urgent. So Renjun had noticed. Maybe his bubble isn’t so much of a bubble after all. Jaemin has been so caught up in his own feelings, he didn’t spend a second thinking how it might’ve made Renjun feel. 

He presses his lips in a thin line, “I’m sorry. Really. You’re right, I have been avoiding you. But it’s not because of anything you’ve done. I’m just… getting in over my head again. But I’m working on it. I won’t avoid you anymore.” 

Renjun’s smile brightens by ten folds. He loops his arm around Jaemin’s, linking them and so painfully unaware of the pink dusting off Jaemin’s cheeks. He has the dark sky to thank for that. 

“Good. Or else I would’ve kicked your ass.” 

Jaemin smiles, “Oh, I know you would.” 

He’s glad he dragged his feet because Jaemin thinks he’s never, ever had pasta that good in his life. He entertained the thought of maintaining his diet but Donghyuck could be so persuasive when he wants to be. One look at his dashing smile tugs at Jaemin’s heartstrings—he puts a tough front but he can be so weak for his friends. 

Renjun and he end up walking back to their room with warm stomachs and a flush on their cheeks from the wine. Mark insisted they go all out this holiday as a last hurrah before they have to go back locked inside all day studying for midterms next month and though Jaemin enjoys his control, he can’t say no to a good time. 

He peels his jacket off as soon as they get past the villa door, throwing it over the chair and shimmying out of his jeans to slip into his sweatpants. Extremely sober Jaemin would’ve thought twice about doing this in front of Renjun but slightly tipsy Jaemin lives in a world where he doesn’t acknowledge his little crush and goes back to pretending he thinks of Renjun as nothing more than a friend.

His eyes droop as soon as he buries himself in the covers and his head hits the fluffy pillow. When there's an absence of shuffling in the room, he can only assume Renjun must’ve waddled into the bathroom to freshen up. 

His mind doesn’t even want to think about how domestic this all sounds. Tiredness washed over his body and Jaemin doesn’t deny the pull of its currents, letting his eyes droop all the way until he falls into a deep slumber.

He’s awakened only minutes later by the sound of rustling sheets and the pitter-patter of feet. The bed dips on his right and the mattress squeaks before finally coming to a stop. At the back of his mind, he registers that Renjun might’ve slipped in bed but what he doesn’t expect is the feeling of nimble fingers pressing lightly into his scalp a minute later, running through his jet black hair. Now, even slightly tipsy Jaemin is rigid. He wants to open his eyes, but he’s afraid of what he might find and more importantly, the words that would make their way past his lips. So, instead, he screws them shut and waits for Renjun to pull his soft fingers out of his hair, no matter how badly he wants them to stay. 

“Jaem?” Renjun asks into the air, experimentally.

Jaemin almost answers out of habit if it weren’t for the fact that he’s holding his tongue, quite literally, caught between his teeth. He can feel Renjun hesitating before taking the bait and the soft fingers carding through his hair disappears as fast as they appeared. Idiotically, he entertains the thought of reaching out for them again, but then what? Impulsiveness and Jaemin don’t go well together. 

More rustling is heard on the other side of the bed until he feels the duvet being lifted and cold air seeps into the warmth underneath and a knee knocks against his. It’s chilly but Renjun’s body heat spreads as fast as Jaemin’s heart is racing. 

“Good night, Jaemin.” He whispers, even though he’s convinced he’s asleep. Jaemin wonders what other things Renjun has whispered before when he thinks he’s asleep.

By the time dawn comes rolling in, his feet are buried in the golden sand again and the wind his chest. Whether he likes it or not, Jaemin’s body has a clock of its own and no holiday will ever be long enough to change that. He’s up at dawn every day and goes to bed by 10 p.m every night. 

He catches the first wave he sees after he waxes his board and rides the water like always. He spent a good week arguing with Donghyuck about bringing his surfboard along, to which Donghyuck made several good points but they all know it's near impossible to win an argument against Jaemin when it comes to parting with his board. He has about 10 different ones at home, all given to him from different people and for different occasions. But this one. This is the only one he trusts. 

The first one he ever bought from his weeks of savings. He worked overtime and spent weekends taking up extra shifts just to save up and spend it all on his first board. The one he had before that was from his cousin Jaehyun but it never felt… right. It was always a little too wide and heavy for his body weight but surfboards were too expensive at the time for a kid in high school to afford on his own. 

Though when he finally saved up enough one day and caught the sight of a board with golden rails and midnight blue deck, he knew it was the one. (No matter the number of times Donghyuck has called it ugly.) 

To Jaemin, the relationship you have between you and your board has to be symbiotic. You depend your whole life on the little surface where your feet find purchase, and in return, you ride the waves like you were born to. He treats every little dent and every little scratch on his board as if it were on his own body and carries them with pride.

Mark calls him dramatic (‘it’s just a board, Jaem.’) and he loves his friends endlessly, but they’ll never be able to understand what it means. Not the way he does (and he doesn’t blame them, sometimes it’s even hard for him to keep up with his own thoughts).

Jaemin squints as the sun shines on his broad shoulders and hits just right on the surface of his board, bouncing light into his eyes as he shreds through the warm water. From a distance, a wave approaches, tall and daunting just the way he likes it. It gravitates toward him like a calling and it has Jaemin’s name written all over it. This is what he needs.

To him, this is the closest thing to losing control he’ll ever allow himself to feel. That moment when the wave is fast approaching and it lifts you on itself like you weigh nothing, like you are nothing compared to its divinity. Jaemin has shredded a hundred and one waves—big, small, rough and gentle all in one. They all feel the same and hold this power over him, the rushing of currents under his feet, a constant pull that’s meant to leave him cowering—a challenge on his greatness. And in that split second, the time it takes for one to rise to the crest of the wave is all the risk Jaemin needs in his life to keep him soaring.

When he reaches the top, the path is clear and the rush dies down in his veins. He’s gone through the hard part and it’s all smooth sailing from here onwards. What’s left is to ride it out and let the water cooperate, except now, the power is under him and no longer over him. It doesn’t dangle over his head like the tease it’s meant to be but follows his lead, making him feel nothing short of a God on the water. 

This is what it means to ride the waves. This is his constant.

He only manages to catch a few more waves before the resort starts coming to life and the guests pour out onto the beach, excitedly dipping into the water and splayed out on the shore. He decides it's time to get out because if he shows up exhausted for Donghyuck’s ‘Fun Holiday Activities’, he’s going to get a hell of a lecture and Donghyuck’s lectures can be extensive. And Jaemin means. Extensive.

He should've expected Renjun to show up as soon as his feet touched the shore with a blinding smile to rival the sun itself on his back. 

"Of course, you'd be here," Renjun says with no malice in his voice. It’s raspier than usual which means he’s just woken up no longer than 20 minutes ago (not that Jaemin would know that, of course. It’s not like he has spent a majority of his morning once comparing Renjun’s voice to different sugary things—honey, molasses, sugarcane—he certainly has not thought about this). 

Jaemin props the board on the side of his rib and smiles as he reaches for his towel. 

"Morning. Are you here to finally take your free surfing lesson?"

Renjun looks almost offended at the question. "No, you're crazy. I'm not going out there, I still don't know why you do it.”

Everyone knows Renjun talks a big game about taking risks but he always seems to turn Jaemin down when he offers to teach him surfing. 

"Come on, people pay hundreds for this. I'm doing it for free."

"Wow, I must be so special." He says, tone dripping with sarcasm.

You are, is what Jaemin wants to say but he holds his tongue. This part feels all too Déjà Vu so he clears his throat and slips into his flip flops and hates the way it makes a soggy squish afterwards. If Renjun notices the change in his demeanour, he doesn't point it out but he stays silent for a little while. 

Jaemin can almost see the cogs turning in his head when he says, "You missed breakfast." 

And I was worried, the words linger behind in the warm air. 

The tone of his voice is laced with concern but this is the first time Jaemin has ever heard him sound anything less than joyful or excited. Nobody can blame him for wanting to hear more of it. 

"I ate a granola bar before I surfed." Jaemin offers and it sounds unimpressive even to his ears. He wipes the saltwater off his skin and they both pretend Renjun's eyes don't follow his movements. 

"Is that supposed to let you off the hook?" Renjun says when he finally shifts his gaze back up to his face. Thankfully, his tone lifts a little—the air was getting just a little too warm for Jaemin’s liking. "Fortunately for you, I saved you a plate, like the amazing best friend that I am. I brought it over to the pool.” 

Jaemin purses his lips and tastes salt on his tongue. “I’m not hungry though.” He says and it’s perfect comedic timing when his stomach growls in response. He flushes red at the sound because now, Renjun is staring at him with a smug look on his face that screams ‘I’m always right’ and to be fair, Renjun is always right. 

“Come on, I made the chef scramble the eggs just the way you like it~”

God. Curse Renjun for knowing Jaemin can never say no to perfectly done eggs (he's the only one that knows exactly how Jaemin likes it done too. They’ve spent too many drunk nights and too many broken eggs attempting to scramble the perfect ones). 

Well, there goes his plan to soak in the enormous bathtub they have in the villa. 

Jaemin groans, though he knows he can never hide the smile on his face even if he tries his best. And he has tried his best, it’s just impossible with a living, breathing and walking ray of sunshine right in front of you. 

"Fine."

His smile widens when Renjun cheers victoriously into the air. From the way the wind blows into his hair, he thinks the way he gravitates toward Renjun beats every current pull the ocean could ever provide. 

The eggs are in fact, perfect. He's almost convinced Renjun cooked them himself. Jaemin sits idly by the pool as he watches his friends splash around in the water, too occupied in pulling each other underwater and attempting to push each other off. (And he's the crazy one for surfing...?)

So far, if he’s keeping count, Jeno's the only one who doesn't mind the ocean water. He’s the closest thing Jaemin has to a surfing buddy back home and even though Jaemin has met his fair share of cool surfer friends, making friends isn’t his forte. Renjun enjoys the beach a normal amount but not the water and Mark and Donghyuck just avoid it altogether.

He watches amusedly at the way Mark manoeuvres through the water to swim closer to Jeno, his not-so-subtle touches and how his attention is mostly on him compared to Renjun and Donghyuck who's swimming merely inches away. Jaemin catches Renjun's eyes from afar and motions his heads toward the pair, satisfied that he gets a knowing smile in return. 

It’s nice to watch them at least and Jaemin will remember to keep this moment stored into the little piggy bank in his brain labelled ‘Teasing Content’ for him to use on Mark (or Jeno) sometime soon. 

He’s too occupied in soaking up the sun and watching his friends that he doesn’t notice the person taking a seat next to him.

“Hey, is this seat taken?” The stranger asks, gaining Jaemin’s full attention. They’re tall, with dashing brown eyes, high cheekbones and bronze skin—the epitome of Jaemin’s summer vacation dreams. He looks like all of Jaemin’s exes combined and if he were to meet him a few months earlier, Jaemin probably would’ve found himself at his feet, drooling just a little. 

Even he is a little surprised he doesn’t feel a spark of joy at the back of his spine like he usually does when he sees someone this tall and handsome. Instead, he finds himself waving a dismissive hand. “Nope, all yours.” 

“Great,” the stranger plops down almost immediately and doesn’t miss a beat, flashing him a dashing smile. Jaemin swears he can see the sun rays flaring back into his eyes, blinding him. “Wouldn’t want to miss the great view.” 

View? Jaemin thinks and turns to the pool, trying to see the oceanside view from where they’re sitting. It’s blocked by a hut, slapped right in the middle of the pool where they’re making milkshakes and smoothies. Some view, Jaemin deflates, until he turns back to the stranger and sees his eyes linger on him instead. 

Oh. He’s almost embarrassed he hadn’t caught the compliment sooner. 

His bare chest shivers at the attention it’s getting and his mind is scrambling for a response back until he remembers—compliments aren’t really his thing either. It’s not that Jaemin thinks he’s unattractive, call him vain (and Mark would), but personally, he thinks he looks quite decent. It’s just that compliments don’t usually fluster him (not unless it comes from a certain someone). 

The only reason he’s flustered right now is because he doesn’t know how to turn this guy down politely. The water gods above must have heard his myriads of prayers because, by the time Jaemin parts his lips for a response, he feels a warm presence from behind and wet skin pressing against his drying back.

Warm palms envelop his broad shoulders. “Jaemin-ah, come swim with us.” 

Renjun’s head pops into his peripheral vision on his right, tilting his head in question. When he meets his gaze, his eyes are soft and inviting. But when Renjun shifts them to look at the stranger, for a moment, Jaemin wonders if he had imagined that hard look behind Renjun’s eyes before it flashes away or if it was just the sun blurring his vision. 

Whatever it was, Renjun seems hell-bent on ignoring the person sitting next to him. 

“Um, yeah. Okay,” is the only response he can conjure up from feeling Renjun’s body pressing into his back. Jaemin is just proud he hasn’t managed to freeze up when Renjun slips his hand into his when they walk back to the pool.

He wonders if he had imagined seeing the ghost of a pout on Renjun’s lips too. 

Jaemin doesn’t know how they end up playing chicken in the pool, nor does he remember how they ended up convincing him to play it but he’s sure it has something to do with Donghyuck and his never-ending antics. 

It took a good few minutes and way longer than Jaemin is proud enough to admit until he’s unceremoniously propped up on Jeno’s shoulders—which are just as broad as his are, thank god—facing the opposing team: Renjun sitting on Donghyuck’s toned shoulders. 

Mark is the referee because of course, he is. If there's anything he loves more than a cold watermelon smoothie by the pool, it’s bossing people around and calling the shots. 

He makes a faux whistle with his left thumb and pointer finger, holding them at the base of his lips and deliberately takes a longer time to raise the tension. 

It’s a bad idea because Jaemin can already feel Jeno wobbling under him from the weight but he taps a finger on his back and discreetly tells his best friend, whom he loves so dearly, to “Man up, we have a battle to win.”   

Jeno groans, but hikes Jaemin upon his shoulders even higher. Personally, Jaemin thinks he’s already quite competitive on his own. Surfing isn’t a sport for nothing. But Donghyuck and Renjun are the two most competitive people he’s ever met. When they’re in the mood, they’ll compete with each other on everything, and he means everything—no matter how stupid and menial it is.

One time, he even walked into Donghyuck’s apartment and caught them mid staring contest, each with red-rimmed eyes (he later learned that they’ve been at it for 28 whole hours—blinking, restarting and attempting to outstare each other until the other gives up). So putting them together on a team will be near impossible to beat, even if Renjun’s smiling at him so sweetly—

Stop it. Jaemin catches himself before he goes any further. Trying to figure out his lingering feelings for his best friend while playing chicken isn’t really the best way to do it. He stores all thoughts of Renjun’s smile, saccharine voice and shining eyes in the back of his mind. Oh, the things he’d do for them to stay there permanently and never see the light of day.

Just on cue, Mark lets out a whistle and Donghyuck wastes no time moving forward, much faster than Jeno. 

Instantly, all thoughts of Renjun’s smile, voice and other parts come flooding back into the forefront of Jaemin’s mind the second Renjun’s hands encase his biceps, just as fast as they went away. For a moment, he almost forgets they’re in the middle of a game until Renjun tugs him forward in an attempt at throwing him over. 

But this is a game of balance and that is where Jaemin’s expertise lies. As Donghyuck would describe it, his sport is solely based on balancing yourself on a piece of plastic on water (granted there’s more physics to it than that but)… he can do this. He just needs to think of Jeno as his surfboard. Sure, there’s a lot more flesh, muscle and hair than he’s used to but hey, Jaemin never said he couldn’t improvise (even though he hates to).

He pulls back from Renjun’s hold and their hands interlock as they each try to push the other off. Even though he tries not to look, Renjun is smiling the brightest Jaemin has ever seen him smile since they got here, the kind of smile where his lips are caught between his teeth simply because he cannot contain it, the same way Jaemin can’t contain the way his heart soars when he sees it. Renjun is letting out hiccups of laughter, each one falling out past his lips after the other and Jaemin mirrors him—feeling his cheeks strain at all the work. If he’s being honest, he doesn’t remember the last time he’s laughed this hard or even had this much fun. He had only been ignoring Renjun for a few weeks but it felt like a lifetime when he compares it to the fun they’re having right now.

He’s so immersed in the game that it throws him off-guard when Renjun lifts his gaze from their interlocked hands to meet his eyes. No one else, not even Jeno who’s wobbling under Jaemin’s weight, seems to notice how rigid he turns. Maybe Renjun has an idea because his laughter dies down to a smile and he looks at Jaemin with so much light in his eyes that Jaemin might as well melt into a puddle of his own and join the chlorine water tickling their ankles. 

All I’m asking is that you don’t leave me in the dark and avoid me. These words resonate in his head even clearer now. Even when Jaemin had left him in the dark for weeks and robbed him of the security their friendship had, the light in Renjun’s eyes never seems to fade. There's always more to go around and Renjun will keep giving and giving and giving until he’s deprived himself of it all. 

“Jaemin, what are you doing? Quick! Push him off.” When the world stops for Jaemin, he often forgets everything else around resumes normally, without him. He’s too late to process the words from Jeno’s lips because Renjun seems to snap out of their little moment (if he can even call it that) and the light in his eyes had disappeared to the back of his gaze, coated with a sheen of mischievousness.

A push against Jaemin’s toned chest is enough to send him tumbling backwards into the water, taking Jeno with him. 

Mark lifts a hand and fakes another whistle, taking Donghyuck’s wrist in his hand and lifts it in the air to announce them as winners. Jeno emerges from the water seconds later, dripping wet and laughs when Donghyuck and Renjun excitedly celebrate their little victory. 

Jaemin wants to join them except his face is burning with his newly found knowledge. This might be more than just a little crush. 

Jaemin hits the shower as soon as they make it back to the suite, not so much for hygiene than for the current panic searing through his veins. Oh, he definitely likes Renjun alright. For someone who’s always painfully aware of everything happening around him, Jaemin thinks he’s quite shit at realising the one thing that matters the most. 

This changes everything. And change isn’t exactly his strong suit. A 6 letter word could not sound more unappealing to his ears. He enjoys routine and a system, the way he always has for the longest time. The butterflies in his stomach are not routine. 

He hears a knock on the bathroom door and leaves Renjun to knock another time to even it out. “Jaemin, are you okay? You ran in there pretty fast.”

The spacious bathroom makes an echo of his voice, almost as loud as they echo in Jaemin’s mind. He clears his throat. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a cramp. I shouldn’t have swum right after I ate.”

“Oh, okay,” Renjun sounds satisfied enough with his answer, ever so oblivious to the storm brewing in Jaemin’s stomach. Butterflies don’t feel like this. Jaemin knows what butterflies feel like. He’s felt them on his first date, his first kiss and every time his feet touch the saltwater in preparation for a wave. These aren’t infatuated butterflies, Renjun makes him feel like a whole damn zoo is stampeding in his gut. 

“Well, you should probably lie down for a bit. I have some oil in my bag and I’ll call Jeno to tell them we can’t come to the barbecue.”

This has Jaemin jolting up from his seat on the toilet bowl. Butterflies or not, chicken wings are still chicken wings. However, the thought is pushed to the back of his mind when he focuses on a particular word. We?

He encourages himself to crack the door open by a sliver, peeking an eye out and backing up when Renjun appears right out the door with a small bottle of coconut oil in his hand. It’s the one he always carries around and up till this point, Jaemin has never understood why. He mutters a small thanks before accepting it. “Just because I can’t go, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t.”

He knows he’ll end up going anyway (this time he actually admits to Mark’s accusations of him being dramatic) but he is just so damn curious. Renjun looks at him with an amused smile on his face and a raised eyebrow. “I’m not going to leave you to suffer alone in the room while the rest of us are having fun.”

Jaemin knows it’s a stupid question even before he asks it. “Why?”

For a moment, there’s a flash of surprise that washes over Renjun’s face before the grin on his lips widens and Jaemin can’t help but look at them even though they’re chapped from the sun shining on them the whole day. He doesn’t even want to comment on how good Renjun looks right now, sunkissed. But he’s staring at Jaemin like he’s asked him the most ridiculous question he’s ever heard, not even worthy of an answer because they both know why.

Renjun wouldn’t leave him to suffer alone because he’s Renjun. And Renjun, unlike anyone he’s ever met before, is stubborn with a heart that cannot be easily swayed by mere words. 

“I think I’m feeling a lot better now.” He mutters under his breath and is surprised Renjun even heard him. 

“Really?” 

He nods, shrinking under Renjun’s gaze after each passing moment. This is bad. He needs to shake himself out of this. 

“Don’t push yourself too hard just for barbecued food.” Renjun waves a nonchalant hand before walking away, plopping down on the bed and pulling out his phone. 

The comment makes Jaemin laugh. It’s bothersome to know someone knows him this well. Ambiguity was supposed to be Jaemin’s strength but Renjun seems to break down every wall he puts up. Still, although the thought gnaws at his stomach the way everything else does, he can’t help but feel warm that it’s Renjun who sees through him—before everyone else. 

Renjun is always so caught up in his little world, but maybe Jaemin is starting to see where he fits in all of it. 

Donghyuck waves Jaemin over with a plate of chicken wings drenched in hot sauce as soon as they get to the cafe. He sees a cabana right beside the pool reserved especially for them where Mark and Jeno waste no time devouring into their pile of baby-back ribs and mashed potatoes. It’s way past sunset by now and the moon is teasing its appearance in the sky and Jaemin is thankful they chose the barbecue over dining at an overpriced restaurant because the cabana is so close to the ocean, he can almost taste the salt on his tongue. Although at the rate Mark and Jeno are eating, he’s not so sure their tab is going to be too happy about it. 

“Jaemin- Jaemin. Jaem.” Donghyuck says and breathes through his nose. Renjun leaves him to deal with Donghyuck alone as he starts going through the menu by himself. 

“You have to try these wings. They’re incredible.” He waves a chicken wing in Jaemin’s face and just the smell of the hot sauce has his eyes watering and his mouth drooling. He pulls back just a little to shove Donghyuck playfully by the shoulder. 

“Are you sure we can afford this? This goes way beyond our budget.” Jaemin nods his head in Mark’s direction, who looks like he’s almost done with his 5th plate. 

Donghyuck laughs and waves an oily, dismissive hand before sucking on his fingers. “I told you, Johnny will cover the extra expenses. Plus, this is payback. He crashed my Jeep last month.”

Sometimes it's difficult for him to remember (and believe) that Donghyuck comes from a rather wealthy (he prefers: comfortable) family. Instead of the entitled trust fund baby Jaemin expected him to be, he gets Donghyuck who has a heart two sizes too big for his own good. 

He wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Sometime after they’re done stuffing their faces and chatting, music somehow comes on and before anyone else can protest over their swelling stomachs, Donghyuck is already shuffling around in his sandals—dancing to the beat. They all would’ve been fine with just watching but a second later, he tugs Renjun by the arm who tugs Jaemin up with him until they all end up dancing. 

It’s definitely been a long time since they’ve all been like this, getting lost in the fun and doing things in the heat of the moment. Youth doesn’t feel so precious when you spend most of your days locked up inside, cramming for finals. But this is their weekend, and as much as Jaemin was hesitant at first—he’d be damned to let his mind ruin all the fun for his friends. 

So he lets loose and stops thinking about blue waves, pink cheeks, honey-like voices and dark hair (although the last one gets a little hard when it’s right in front of you). He thinks about now and he thinks about his friends—the youth on their faces he wishes to capture. The soft pink flesh of their cheeks darken from the alcohol, the music numbing their mind and hazing their thoughts, he has never felt younger in his life. 

He’s quickly snapped out of that little trance when an arm snakes around his torso, making even his addled brain jump at the sudden contact. It’s Renjun’s fingers tugging at the edge of his hip, pulling him a little closer to lean his weight on him. 

Jaemin tells himself that he doesn’t need to overthink this even though his brain quickly goes haywire at the feeling of Renjun pressed up so close. But they’re all pressed up close. Donghyuck is dancing against Jeno’s shoulder so hard that he might as well melt into him to form one big blob of a human. 

That is until he looks at Renjun and feels that familiar jolt of electricity run down his spine. Renjun is only looking at him. Directly. Not just leaning anymore, but looking—as if he wants Jaemin to find something in his eyes. 

But Jaemin can’t find something when he doesn’t know what he’s looking for so he does the one thing he knows how to do.

He pulls back. He looks away.

The wind blows into his hair, causing it to sway from left to right, so unlikely for a day without much wind or cold at all. The breeze is the kind that blows through the air when a storm is nearby—or heavy rain is coming. Jaemin has spent so many times planning his surfing schedule throughout the years. Learning to tell when a storm is coming has come to him like second nature. 

After a bit, Jeno calls it a night when Mark starts falling asleep mid-conversation and stumbling over his feet every few beats. They bid their goodbyes for the night (not before Donghyuck accidentally knocks a champagne bottle off the edge of the table), leaving only Renjun, Jaemin and the moon to converse. 

A sudden idea surges through Jaemin’s sleepy brain and he clears his throat, breaking the silence between them and stealing Renjun’s attention from the moon. “Hey, I wanna show you something.”

Renjun returns his gaze with cheeks pink as rose petals from all the wine he’s been drinking throughout the night and when he stares at Jaemin inquisitively, he looks like a confused cat. Jaemin takes a mental image of this moment and stores it at the back of his mind for him to fawn over another time. 

But for now, he musters up the courage to put his hand out. 

“Come on,”

When Renjun takes his offer, Jaemin burns the feeling on his skin of Renjun’s fingers slipping alongside his. 

The walk to the beach is relatively short considering they were only a few steps away but it felt like an eternity to get there with Renjun’s hand in his the entire time. Jaemin didn’t mean for them to hold hands, he just wanted to help Renjun down the steps. But when they started to walk on the pathway and Renjun had shown no signs of letting go anytime soon, Jaemin decides—he’ll let this one burst of spontaneity slide (he isn’t sure he wants to let go either). 

If Donghyuck had caught them like this, hand in hand and walking under the moonlight, neither of them would hear the end of it. This is the biggest teasing material anyone could ever hold over their heads and the worst thing about it is, Jaemin wouldn’t even blame him because if he had caught Mark and Jeno like this, Jaemin would make sure they wouldn’t hear the end of it either. He thinks this is karma at its finest.

His feet instinctively stop at an area where the water doesn’t touch the dry sand and hesitantly pulls his hand away from Renjun’s to plop down on the shore. He pats the area beside him. 

The lanterns that line the fence along the beach is the only thing that offers them some pretence of lighting but it's quickly overruled by the moonlight shining upon them, coating the ocean waves in glittering flickers. Jaemin has spent too many nights like this, just staring back at the ocean and having the ocean stare back at him like it's the only thing that could possibly understand him. On the worst days, he’s convinced it is. 

But now, he’s here with Renjun, sharing his most sacred ritual, even if Renjun doesn’t know it himself. Though somehow, he feels like he does. Renjun had always said that Jaemin’s only home has always been the beach. It’s where he finds comfort in and it’s where he feels the safest. To Renjun, that’s what a home should be. The ocean is his bed, the sand is his pillow and the sky is his blanket. 

But Jaemin himself has never understood it that way. If that’s what home is, then Renjun should be as much of a home to him as the beach is. 

Sand debris flies in the air when Renjun plops beside him, almost child-like from the way he stumbles. Jaemin watches amusedly as he dusts the sand off his trousers. It’s only a minute later that he realises their knees and elbows are touching. 

“Look,” Jaemin nods his head up at the inky sky, midnight blue dotted with crystals glowing down on them. 

The sharp intake of breath Renjun takes is enough to have him smiling. “I’ve always wanted to stargaze outside. This is my first time being at the beach at night.”

Jaemin hums. “I know. That’s why I wanted to bring you here. The stars are always great by the beach at night.”

“Of course you would know. If you ever go missing, the beach would be the first place I’d check.”

A laugh rumbles through his chest, fogging against the cold air and spreads the warmth to his fingertips. It must be contagious because Renjun is laughing with him not a second later.

“And you’d find me.” 

Renjun’s laughs come to a halt and he hums, looking at Jaemin with a feeling intense enough that Jaemin himself can’t quite decipher it—despite the lost time he’s spent memorising every line and expression on that very face. 

“I’ll always find you.” 

Though those words are enough to make him freeze like a statue. He lets Renjun’s words slip past him like the wind. He doesn’t even want to begin to think about what they could possibly mean. 

Jaemin stares up into the sky and watches the constellations dot the black void like paint splatters. He sees the constellations Renjun always points out in books or his daily retweets—The Big Dipper, Orion, Ursa Minor, Gemini (he’s a little surprised he even remembers these names). Renjun seems to stare up at them like he’s never seen stars in his life. He has his right arm outstretched toward the sky, lining his thumb and index finger to the edges of the constellations.

Oddly enough, he can’t remember the last time they’ve just sat like this. Jaemin has spent so much of his time and energy avoiding Renjun for the past few weeks, he’s forgotten what it feels like to just bask in the silence between them. He especially forgets how much he’s been yearning for it—the warmth it brings, the familiarity is like a breath of fresh air. Renjun’s presence has always been loud and striking, everything Jaemin is not and never will be. But between Jaemin’s subtle actions, fine as the sand itself, and Renjun’s bold strokes on the world, the bond they have is nothing short of a warm, crackle of the fire on winter evenings. 

He can avoid Renjun all he wants but it’ll always be there to welcome him back, lingering. Sometimes, the flames will lick at his feet and leave him with burns to remind him he can never get too close to what he wants but he’ll always come back for more. He’ll always come back for Renjun. 

“Why do you like surfing so much?” 

The question is asked out of nowhere and when he turns, Renjun’s eyes are dead-set on the dark horizon where the sky touches the sea, no longer fawning over the stars and Jaemin realises this is a look he knows intimately. It’s when Renjun will blurt the first few words that come to mind and they always so happen to be pulled from the deepest depths of his brain. 

Despite knowing each other long enough, Renjun has never outright asked him this. They’ve always danced around the subject, sure but never truly addressed it. He’s always assumed that everyone else assumes that he and the ocean just go hand in hand, and that’s it. End of story. 

“It’s fun,” is the short answer he gives, but he knows there’s more to it than that. They both do. 

Renjun gives him a side-glance. “I think board games are fun. I don't dedicate my whole life to playing Monopoly.”

He laughs when Jaemin flicks a finger on his thigh. 

“I don’t know. It started as a thing to help take my mind off of things, to help me cope. But then it became something more.” Now it’s his turn to pull something from the deepest well in his mind. He shivers and subtly shifts closer until their arms are touching—silently giving him some semblance of support. 

“After my dad died, it really messed me up. I felt like I lost control of life for a really long time and it tipped my axis. Probably burned and buried it too. But then Jaehyun brought me surfing a few times and… I don’t know. I guess it was gradual, but I started coming back for more. It made me feel like I was in control. It still does. Like if I can do this, then I can face anything, you know? I know I can’t control every aspect of my life and though that thought drives me a little insane sometimes, I still want to try. And nothing makes me feel more in control than surfing.”

He turns back to Renjun to see him staring at him intently. The heat in Jaemin’s cheeks reacts almost immediately. He masks it with a cough and turns his head back to the sea. 

Now he’s done it, he thinks. He’s scared off the only good thing left in his life. Jaemin wonders if this is how they’ll end, on account of his messy feelings. Now this feels like losing control. 

“I know I sound crazy. I think I am.”

“I don’t think you sound crazy. It makes sense. I think it makes the most sense compared to anything I’ve ever heard.”

This time Renjun spares no lingering thought and closes the space between them. Renjun buries his hand in the sand and rests his head on Jaemin shoulder the way he would when Jaemin would be sick in bed with no one to care for him except him. It’s been so long since they’ve been this close, has Renjun always felt this warm? 

“Thank you for telling me.”

He grants himself a moment of clarity and tucks his nose into Renjun’s hair—smelling the earth on him and his peach-scented shampoo. This time, he smells the ocean on him too. 

Later that night, when Jaemin slips into bed, Renjun leaves no room for hesitation. He shimmies closer until his chest is pressed against Jaemin’s arm and Jaemin can hear the way his heartbeat pulses on his skin—the rhythm he has grown so fond of. He wonders if Renjun can hear the way his heart is jackrabbiting in his own chest. 

A hand drapes over his waist and it stays there, anchoring him with reassurance. I’m not going anywhere, he can almost hear it fall off Renjun’s lips. 

His body stays rigid, unsure of how to handle the fact that Renjun, his crush and maybe something more, is practically lying on top of him. This isn’t routine. But the zoo stampeding in his stomach has become somewhat of a natural reoccurrence these days.  

Renjun doesn’t seem to mind at all, simply tugging him closer until Jaemin’s hand is forced to rest on his thigh and the heat at the back of his neck becomes unbearable. 

“Good night, Jaem,” Renjun whispers into his ear as his cheek presses into his shoulder—so warm, supple and round that Jaemin wishes he has them in his hands so he can draw little patterns on them and feel their heat on his skin. Maybe Renjun will even let out one of his cute laughs, the kind where he’s ticklish and giddy and makes Jaemin want to kiss him in all kinds of places. 

With all the amount of agility he’s mastered, Jaemin slowly turns his head to his right and almost melts into a pool of his own feelings when his lips almost brush against Renjun’s forehead. He’s so close. He’s so close Jaemin can count each lash on his eye. He’s so close that all it takes is a tip from his head and their lips would meet to burst into the nebula of feelings Jaemin has kept locked up for so long. 

This is the closest anyone has ever been to him in years. Everyone knows Jaemin and they know the boundaries that come with him like an inseparable pair. Boundaries Renjun has managed to break time and time again and the worst thing about it is that Jaemin doesn’t even think he minds. 

Renjun is the closest anyone has ever been to him in years and yet he can’t feel further away. So sweetly, tantalisingly, unattainable.

Jaemin knows he’ll never possess half the heart and kindness Renjun has that takes up every living cell in his body, but maybe this can be a start. Without tearing his gaze away, Jaemin gives him the slightest indication of his affection that he’s able to muster up for now. A squeeze on the hand.

He lets his lips brush against his forehead when he whispers, “Good night, Jun.”

He pries his eyes open when he hears waves crashing on the shore. It’s barely past dawn and the warm sand pressing against his spine supports his back like an old friend he’s counted on time and time again. The darkness in the sky has faded beautifully into baby blue. Routine. Routine. Routine. He’s back again. 

Jaemin doesn’t remember how long he’s been lying on the sand, just basking in the breeze but considering how the sun was just peeking out of the horizon when he got here—he’d say he’s been here for at least an hour. His surfboard is lying beside him, useless and waiting. 

For the first time in a long time, he doesn’t want to surf. He doesn’t want to get in the water. He just wants to lay here and watch the clouds pass him by. He wants to wait for the sound of children running down the shoreline and adults chasing after them and the sound of sand moving around. He just wants to stop. 

He wants to stop thinking so much. He wants to stop being so dependent on the ocean. He wants to stop thinking of Renjun.

That becomes near impossible when his peripheral vision welcomes a face—the only one he knows like the back of his hand. Tonight is their last night here and this is the last day he gets until he’s forced to go back to mundane routines (and although that usually sounds like heaven to him, something about it leaves him barren). 

Renjun lies down beside him and Jaemin hears a thunk on the other side. 

He doesn’t budge. 

“You already went?” Renjun asks.

Surfing is what he meant but Jaemin lets the question sit for a bit while he focuses on one particular cloud in the sky and watches the way it turns into different shapes. He sees a flower, then a lamp and then a fish. 

“No,” he answers truthfully. “I’ve just been lying here.” 

“With sunscreen, I hope.” 

He gives Renjun an amused glance, surprised to see he’s already looking back at him. “Yes, with sunscreen.” 

The sky amuses them as it turns from baby blue to lilac and then back to a pale blue. Now that he thinks about it again, it is barely past dawn. What was Renjun doing here? 

“What are you even doing here? You never wake up this early.” 

From the corner of his eye, he can see Renjun prop himself up by his arm, looking down at him. It’s only then does he realise Renjun isn’t dressed in his normal clothes, he’s only wearing a t-shirt with a pair of swimming shorts—the only one he owns and the ones Jaemin gifted to him as a Christmas present 2 years ago. 

“Are you telling me to go away?” He challenges.

“Yes.” Jaemin teases back.

Renjun lies down with a huff, cheeks puffed out in a way that has Jaemin’s chest stirring and mind boggled. “Well, I was going to ask you to teach me surf. But never mind, I guess.”

At the sound of this, Jaemin’s back instantly straightens and he sits up, quick enough that he almost pulls a muscle. He looks to Renjun on his right and only then sees the rented surfboard he has beside him. “Wait. Really?”

The smile that breaks on Renjun’s face tells him he’s not going anywhere anytime soon. Just like he promised. “Mhm,” he looks at Jaemin through squinted eyes.

“I thought about what you said yesterday. About what surfing meant to you and how important it is. And if it is as important to you as you say it is, then I want to give it a shot too. I know I always make you get out of your comfort zone to do things I want, but I never took the time to get into your comfort zone. I want to.”

“This is something out of your comfort zone though. Oh, how the tables have turned.” Jaemin teases. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

There’s a moment of hesitance, something Jaemin has never seen on Renjun before. Renjun nods either way. “You’re important to me. I want to try this.”

“You know you have to take the t-shirt off right?” 

Renjun lifts his eyebrow at the question. They’ve barely waddled into the water before it hits him why Renjun was moving slower than he was. The t-shirt had started to soak in all the water. 

Jaemin quickly backtracks when he gets that teasing look, feeling the embarrassing pink on his cheeks. 

“I- I mean it’ll bring you down because it’s heavy. It’s dangerous.”

“Mhm,” Renjun looks down at his t-shirt before a flash of mischievousness washes over his face. “Are you sure you don’t just want to see me half-naked?”

He looks satisfied enough when Jaemin ends up in a spluttering mess. 

Despite his frequent invitation, Jaemin has never really taught anyone how to surf. He learned it over time by himself and managed to ace the balancing on the first try—call him a natural, but it just always seemed that easy.

When Renjun wobbles for the first time and falls right into the water as soon as he gets on the board, Jaemin reminds himself that it’s different for everyone else. 

They end up spending most of the day soaking in the sun and focusing on balancing. It’s a process that takes time and multiple different steps. You test the waters (quite literally)—get to know the waves and currents, feel the wind on your skin, and learn to trust your instincts. 

As tedious as it sounds, they spend a good chunk of the time falling into the water (mostly Renjun) and laughing so hard every time that Jaemin was so sure they were going to get cramps any moment. 

He doesn’t want to think about how he hasn’t felt this happy in ages. There is no control here. There is no lack of it. There’s just him, Renjun and the ocean—his two most favorite things in the world and everything he could ever want, right here. 

Jaemin doesn’t believe so much in luck but given the chance to see Huang Renjun dipped in saltwater as he slicks his hair back—he doesn’t think there’s a better word for this other than pure luck. 

When Renjun finally manages to stand on his own two feet, Jaemin can’t help the smile that he feels stretching on his own face. 

“Oh my god,” Renjun breathes out, brimming with excitement. “I’m doing it!” 

“Yup,” Jaemin laughs. “Almost.” 

He isn’t quite all the way on his board yet, courtesy of Renjun insisting he stays in the water to catch him whenever he falls. So Jaemin’s just paddling through the water, his arms propped up on his board to watch Renjun through amused eyes before he feels that oh-so-familiar pull in the water. 

He looks in the far distance and feels it before he sees it, the wave slowly approaching.

“Ready to actually put all that practice to use?”

Renjun follows his gaze and pales instantly, excitement drained completely off his features. Sometimes, Jaemin forgets he can be as stubborn as he is. He can almost see the cogs turning in Renjun’s head as he turns back to Jaemin with the most determined look he can muster up. 

“Let’s fucking do it.” 

“I’ll be right behind you.” Jaemin reassures as the wave approaches. It’s a doable wave to take and depending on the size, it’s definitely a good one for beginners. 

Although he can taste that zing in the air again, that familiar crackle that he can’t quite place at first until it hits him. This is what the air smells like and the wind tastes like when a storm is brewing far away. They might not get it now, or tomorrow but Jaemin is sure he knows these things like the back of his board.

He decides to keep the information locked when he sees the anxiety coating Renjun’s face.

Renjun seems adamant about not letting the nervousness show on his features even though Jaemin can see it as clear as day. It’s a weird look on him. Jaemin has spent so much time burning every detail of his face into his mind that uneasiness is a foreign look on Renjun. Although these past few days, he’s been learning more and more about him. 

They both lie flat on their stomachs as they paddle toward the wave, vigour pulsing through his veins. No matter how many times he’s done this, it’s always exciting to catch a wave at its peak. 

The current is pulling at their skin when they get close enough that even the wind here feels like a challenge on their part. Jaemin steadies Renjun with his words and makes sure he doesn’t get up too early or too late—It’s all about timing.  

The wave is getting bigger and bigger now, borrowing strength from the current that spurs it on. 

“Ready?” 

“No.”

“On my mark?” 

“Okay.”

Jaemin can practically hear his own breathing in and out, in and out. He zeroes in on that sound. He shoots Renjun one last look that tells him, I’ve got you.

“Now.”

On Jaemin’s call, they both balance themselves on their surfboard and catch the wave in its moment. Jaemin mostly has his eyes on Renjun while his body moves on instinct, balancing his weight on the board just like he has a hundred times before. Renjun on the other hand wobbles a little to the side yet they’ve barely managed to catch up to the currents pulling them forward. Thankfully, he manages to find his footing and steadies himself on the surface. 

Jaemin can almost imagine what Renjun would look like right about now. Face in the wind, sea spray soaking in his hair and settling in his skin, the smile on his face as bright as a thousand suns combined—he almost wishes he could see it for himself. What a pretty sight it would be to revel in.

He wonders if Renjun feels the similar emotions take over his body. Does he feel that pump of adrenaline too? Does he feel the jitter in his stomach as they make their way across the curling wave?

Instead of an answer, he can hear Renjun shout a cheer from the front, clearly excited that he’s able to pull it off. Even Jaemin feels like it’s his first time surfing all over again. The wave over his head, the rushing of currents under his board, the feeling of fascination taking over him. 

When they get to the other side, Renjun skids a few more inches before the wave crashes over them and the taste of saltwater washes the adrenaline away. 

Renjun’s head pops up from underwater a few seconds later, hair slicked back by the water and face beaming. He’s smiling so hard that Jaemin can clearly see his smile lines deepening and his dimples peeking from the side of his cheeks. 

“That,” he starts, out of breath (from fascination or exertion, Jaemin doesn’t know). “was incredible. Let’s do it again.”

This is how Renjun operates. He indulges you and never hesitates to make you feel validated, wanted, important—all the things anyone could ever want, despite his own fear. He will willingly put it aside to see even the faintest ghost of a smile on someone’s face. 

Maybe this is why he does the things he does. Why he goes out of his way to break boundaries, mend them, set new ones. Maybe this is why he paints the world in bold strokes; to make the first move and tell everyone else that it’s okay.

And why it has taken Jaemin this long, all these little gestures for him to realise he might be a little in love with him. 

This is the worst way to lose self-control. Not at the hands of the sea and it’s mysterious wonders like Jaemin has always predicted he would. But at the hands of Huang Renjun who thinks too much of everyone and too little of himself.

He decides to skip dinner tonight, to which Jeno, Donghyuck and Mark (and Renjun) promptly discouraged because “It’s our last night, how could you!”

Jaemin makes it up to them by promising he’d drive the 8-hour ride back tomorrow and makes up an excuse to catch some sleep before that. After much quarrelling (mostly on Renjun’s part), they give in and let him head to bed. Jaemin is not easily swayed, and though he makes an exception most of the time when it comes to his friends, they all know there’s no persuading him when he’s made his mind. Gourmet beef stew be damned. 

It’s sad but he’d rather spend the night wallowing in bed thinking of the inevitable (strong) feelings he’ll have to face when they get back and the hard truth that his feelings for Renjun aren’t going away anytime soon. He doesn’t want to dampen the mood for them tonight with his glum aura and they don’t owe it to him to constantly look out for him—he already feels like they do way more than they should (and way more than he deserves). 

Jaemin orders room service for the night, lots and lots (like a concerning amount) of ice cream and switches on the television, picks the first channel he sees and sticks with it (technically the second channel since the first one was playing cheesy romcoms and he does not feel like getting into those kinds of feelings right now). The animal channel comes on and he may or may not have teared up thinking of baby seals before he pushes the service cart aside, dumps the trash and calls it a night. 

His friends are probably on their 3rd drink for the night and a small part of him is regretting not joining in for the fun. Another small voice in his head tells him maybe it’s better this way, what does he have to offer to their dynamic anyway? 

Renjun and Donghyuck are the fun ones, Jeno is the responsible one who keeps everyone in check and Mark wears his heart on his sleeve, clumsy, goofy and so endearing—they all care for Jaemin with a magnitude that overthrows anything he’ll ever be able to give them in return. So where does he even fit in all of this? He spends too much time in his own head but he loves them to no end and the last thing he wants is for them to think he doesn’t care. 

Probably shouldn’t have stayed in tonight then, his mind supplies. But between the feelings for Renjun he’s been harbouring and that familiar tug of insecurity he feels, Jaemin doesn’t know what else to do other than the obvious: sleep.

As soon as his head hits the pillow, his eyes turn droopy and his mind drifts away at the sound of waves crashing from the near distance. Usually, when he’s feeling this insignificant he’d go to Mark, which sounds unlikely considering it’s Renjun who knows him like the back of his hand. But Mark has known Jaemin for much longer—since their diaper days even. Sure, he’s bad at giving advice but something about that is a little comforting. To have someone know you from experience rather than observation can be a nice breath of fresh air. He would never outright say it though. It’s a part of their dynamic that it’s almost an unspoken rule at this point. 

Jaemin would knock at Mark’s door, Mark would let him in, they would share a couple of beers (substituted with hot chocolate when they were kids) and talk about literally anything except what troubles them the most. It’s a nice escape. Renjun operates in the exact opposite direction but Jaemin still enjoys both approaches, even if one is harder than the other.

Somehow his mind drifts off to a certain memory that always sticks in the back of his head. Their friend group, graduation night, marshmallows—the day Jaemin was sure that these would be the people he'd want to have around for the rest of his life. It started with a bet (as it always does when it comes to Renjun and Donghyuck). It was late and they were sweaty and tired from their graduation party and were now all lounging around in Jeno’s living room with a bag of chips in each hand, mindlessly watching whatever show Mark had pulled up when Renjun proposed a dare. He took one look at the bag of marshmallows lying by Donghyuck’s feet and said there was no way he could get the whole bag in his mouth without choking on it (little did they know this was the spark of their lifelong competitive rivalry).

Donghyuck, as expected, told him to shove it and ripped the bag open by his teeth, hollering at Jaemin to film this and the ‘stupid’ look on Renjun’s face when he proves him wrong. The only thing Jaemin managed to film was the gradual appearance of Donghyuck’s face turning blue as he shoves each gigantic marshmallow down—to the point where even Renjun had backed down from the dare. 

They’re all yelling at him to stop—Jaemin reaching for the bag, Jeno reprimanding him with his ‘serious voice’ and Renjun spitting out curses here and there. But Donghyuck can be so stubborn when he wants to win. It continues for a while and he’s one marshmallow away from completing the dare before the ambulance shows up outside of Jeno’s house and they all stop to gaze at each other, almost as if time had stopped itself before the dots start connecting—Mark was nowhere to be found around them. Simultaneously, they pan toward the kitchen, seeing him nervously clutching his phone to his chest and laughing anxiously. (“I thought he was going to die!” He retaliated later. “Death from marshmallows?!” Donghyuck yelled). 

They spent the better half of the night explaining to the medics what had really happened and why. It’s safe to say that Donghyuck is no longer allowed to be near marshmallows and he and Renjun are no longer allowed to make bets without at least one other person knowing about it. 

As stupid as it sounds, it’s still one of the best memories Jaemin has of their time in high school. Even now, they still look back and laugh at it from time to time. Sitting in front of Jeno’s porch, huddled together as they watch the ambulance drive away before bursting into a fit of laughter—he knew right then and there that these were the people he’d have around for the rest of his life. 

He gets jostled awake from his slumber when he hears shuffling around the room and sees a pale light illuminating from the bathroom. The door is left slightly ajar and he’s able to wrench one eye open to see a familiar silhouette gliding around the closet as quietly as they can. 

Renjun obviously doesn’t know he’s awake and Jaemin intends to keep it that way for now. He’s too tired to bother asking what time it is anyway. His best guess is that it’s close to 2 am but with the way the wind is howling at their window—he really doesn’t know. 

And he doesn’t really want to fall back asleep either because as selfish as it sounds, this is their last night here after all. This the last chance he has to be this close to Renjun without having to come up with elaborate excuses. He’ll enjoy it while he still can. 

A minute later he feels that dip on the other side of the bed he’s now grown attached to and almost lets out a sigh of relief. Renjun is here—for now, no matter how little time Jaemin is allowed to be this close to him. However, the arms that wrap around his waist almost instantaneously comes as a surprise. Not a second later, Renjun pulls him close and tucks his head under Jaemin’s chin—all under the knowledge of him being asleep and completely unaware. If they wake up like this the next morning, he doesn’t know how Renjun would begin to explain how they ended up like that—Jaemin doesn’t even know if he wants to ask. 

Maybe neither of them will point it out and they’ll just get on with their lives, like everything that happened on this trip and the glances Jaemin has sent his way will be their own little secret for the holiday. And when they get home, they’ll go back to normal. Jaemin can pretend he isn’t in love with his best friend and Renjun can pretend that he doesn’t see anything past their friendship. 

When he hears light snoring, Jaemin carefully nudges his chin toward Renjun’s forehead, letting him tilt his head back ever so slightly so that his lips part just a little. He smells like a mix like alcohol and caramel sweets tonight—the very essence of himself. It’s an old habit Renjun acquired a long time ago where he would pack caramel candies into his pockets whenever he plans to drink—just to get the bitterness off his tongue when he’s done. Jaemin has spent many drunken nights being offered candy that Renjun never seems to run out of. 

It’s one of the fonder (in his opinion) quirks Renjun has developed over the years. Like how the string to his teabag would always be twisted around the handle whenever he enjoys a cup of tea. Or how he adds an ungodly amount of sugar to everything.

A surge of embarrassment flush through Jaemin’s cheeks when he thinks how sweet it would be to kiss him. How addicting would Renjun taste? All that sugar that has accumulated through the years from his habit, he must taste the sweetest, even sweeter than his honey-like voice. 

If given the chance, Jaemin would take his time and treat Renjun most delicately, just as he deserves—savouring every little dip and crevice of his mouth. To taste the addicting laughs that escape past those very lips, the pretty words they form to comfort him without fail—Jaemin wants it all and more.

Thinking of this and all the things they can never be suddenly makes his heart ache at the thought of going back to ‘normal’. It’s all too much for his mushy brain to comprehend because right now, he has Renjun in his arms and in a few hours he won’t and might not ever again, at least not like this. And something about that thought digs into the most tender parts of his heart and presses down. Hard. 

Jaemin has spent so much time fighting himself and convincing his brain that he can never have this—he will never deserve something as good as Renjun.

But when the sun shines in a few hours, something deep inside him knows they can’t just go back to normal. There is no going back after this. For the first time in forever, he wants to welcome this change. He wants it so badly, his chest thrums and sends vibrations all the way down to his spine, making him shiver. He wants Renjun so badly.

This is the furthest he has ever felt from him so Jaemin does the one thing he’s good at, the only thing that he knows how to do. 

He pulls back and finds comfort in the ocean’s waves. 

Jaemin doesn’t even bother putting his shoes on or his jacket for that matter (despite that it’s freezing outside). He walks straight out onto the beach and buries his toes in the yellow sand. 

The dark, midnight sky reflects a thousand and one stars onto the surface of the sea and the unblinking moon leaves the tide to rise higher than he’s used to seeing. Tonight, they’re jagged, unreliable and raging—much like his own heart when he realises there’s a war brewing inside of him. 

Something he has kept at bay for too long, now spilling over the seams and overflowing in his veins. The golden ichor that Jaemin has once felt flowing through him is dulled to mortal red. He feels stripped down to his rawest emotions. The most human he has felt in days once the weight of his thoughts sinks in deeper than it ever has and his mind echoes the only word he knows, the one that circulates in his head like a mantra: Renjun, Renjun, Renjun.

It’s almost hilarious how it’s taken this long for him to realise the intensity of his own feelings but then again, he was never one to be intuned with his own emotions. If Donghyuck were to hear about the inner turmoil he’s facing, Jaemin is sure he’d laugh right in his face and strangely, he wishes he could see it. He wishes someone could listen to the thoughts swirling in his head right now, threatening to tear his head open with its sharp edges. 

The wind howls and blows sea spray into his hair, almost in response—urging him to confide in its company. And if he was paying attention, he might’ve been able to catch the known crackle in the air, the wobble of his knees because the second Jaemin sits on the bed of fine-grain, the rain pours overhead in consolement. 

He can’t bring himself to care at this point. Between the furious waves and the downpour he’s settling in, Jaemin can’t find it in himself to get up and go back. Instead, he finds his feet rooted in the sand and his hands grasping at the fine-grain until he can feel it caking under his fingernails, moist and thick all at the same time.

He lets the thoughts tear his head wide open and he cries. Jaemin cries until he can’t tell the difference between the salt water in his mouth, the rain or his tears. He cries because he grieves the relationship he’ll never have with someone who he’ll never come as close to deserving. He cries because Renjun is everything and anything he could ever want and nothing he will ever be—kind, understanding, open. 

He swipes a hand over his face, pushing the water off his eyes and not caring for the sand that smears over his cheek. 

All too much, a presence greets his right, wrapping a hand on his shoulder alarmingly, and the touch is so warm that Jaemin finds himself gravitating toward it no matter how surprised he is. His swollen eyes trail over to the owner and through the blurring rain and thundering skies he meets the very set of eyes he dreads to see. Renjun is looking down on him with deep concern lining his forehead in creases, a look as hard as stone itself in his eyes—and Jaemin realises that this is the first time he has ever seen him look anything more than slightly displeased.

His whole life, he has never seen this look on him before.

Renjun is hugging his jacket to his body, grasping at the fabric for dear life as he lifts it over his own head. His lips are forming words, too quiet for the incessant rain and too fast for Jaemin’s mind to comprehend. He only manages to catch one word—the one he’s watched curled on Renjun’s lips a million times. 

Jae-min. His own name.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” Renjun yells over the rain in defiance. He gets a pale blue crackle of thunder in return, a reminder of divinity. 

Jaemin doesn’t move. He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know how to. 

It’s only a split second later does Renjun realise the distress on his face and the tears spilling over his pink cheeks. 

All too quickly, the creases on his forehead deepen. “What’s going on?” He asks, quieter than before but so loud in Jaemin’s ears. 

His muscles are taut. How did they end up like this? He wonders. 

Or maybe this was it. What were the chances of Renjun finding him here by the beach if not by some strange stroke of luck Jaemin has never believed in? 

And what good is it to sit here, contemplating in the rain, by the sea when the answer to his thoughts is right in front of him, served on a silver platter all for him to grab. All he has to do is take the leap of faith he has never once thought of taking. 

To rely on something other than himself and other than the waves. To believe in Renjun and their bond that has persevered throughout the years, despite their ups and downs. In spite of his own. 

He doesn’t realise that Renjun has taken it upon himself to crouch beside him, no longer bothered by the heavy downpour even though the hand on Jaemin’s forearm tells him he is still adamant for them to leave. He can almost hear his thoughts, “You’re going to catch a cold”, he would say even though he’s just as drenched with rain trickling down his spine .  

You. It’s never we. Renjun has always put him first. 

Through tears, he manages to say, “I think I’m in love with you.” And he lays it out quietly, clean and simple. 

For a moment, it feels like everything has come to a halt. The waves are silenced, the thunder has subsided and the rain has stopped mid-air in droplets. Renjun is staring at him like he has yelled the most absurd thing he’s ever heard. 

“What?” Renjun asks. This time, shock overrules every other expression he had on his face. “What did you say?” 

The thunder, the rain and everything else from before come crashing down like a pile of bricks. A non-question for an answer they both know. He expects disgust when he lifts his head to meet Renjun’s gaze again, but rather he finds encouragement pooling in those pearl-like eyes. Renjun has been brave enough for the both of them this whole time, now it’s Jaemin’s turn to take a step forward. 

He bites his bottom lip to stop it from quivering when he says it again, bolder with all the courage he’s able to muster up from Renjun’s eyes. 

“I’m in love with you, Renjun. And I don’t know what to do.” He says, louder than the pouring rain and this time, even the thunder doesn't dare to interrupt. 

Although out of everything, he definitely doesn’t expect the answer he gets in return. 

Teary-eyed, Renjun breaks out in a small grin—not caring for the droplets of rain washed on his face or the way his hair flattens against his forehead. He doesn’t hide the way his lips quiver. 

“Fucking finally,” he says and shifts closer. 

This time, it’s Jaemin that asks the questions. “What?” 

“I was wondering which one of us was going to break first.” Suddenly, there’s a warm hand embracing the back of his neck, almost steadying him, leaving him no space to go back on his words.

Raindrops have gathered around the edge of Renjun’s lashes, creating a beautiful line of crystal droplets for Jaemin to stare back into. 

“I thought I was going crazy, imagining things and thinking too much about every little thing you do. For the longest time, I was so sure you didn’t feel the same way.” Renjun says, through red-bitten lips. He catches onto the hesitation in Jaemin’s eyes, still that uneasiness to let himself believe. 

He needs it laid straight out, clean and no longer blurry like the lines they’ve been dancing around.

Renjun meets him halfway, just like he always does. 

“I love you, Jaemin. Not the way I love Hyuck, or Jeno or Mark... I love you in the way I know you love me.” 

These are the words that make the thunder and everything else soar through the sky and intensify by ten folds—except it’s not scary or threatening. It’s invigorating, freeing and exhilarating. In all the world, three words and eight letters could not sound more beautiful to his ears. 

Renjun loves him. It takes a moment to sink in. Renjun loves him. Is in love with him. 

All he manages to give in a return is a lame, “Really?” 

Though seeing Renjun crack a smile in his teary-eyed form, he can’t help but think it wasn’t so bad. Especially not when Renjun shifts closer to him so that he can see the burst of galaxies in his eyes, too bright for even real stars to rival with. He has this unrecognizable look on his face. Halfway between enchantment and something Jaemin can’t quite put a name on. All he knows is that he wants to see more of it—all the time, every day, every second. 

“Really.” 

Jaemin is sure he looks like an idiot himself, smiling with too many teeth that makes his cheeks strain in a way it has never before, weird in a good way. But none of it matters. None of it matters when Renjun wraps a hand around the back of his neck, leaning impossibly closer in a way Jaemin has only imagined would happen in his wildest dreams. 

And then a whisper escapes his lips, almost too afraid to break this fragility between them as if the sound of raindrops hitting the surface of the ocean is not deafening enough, as if the thunder reverberating above them is not striking enough. 

They are all silenced by one phrase that sends pricks and needles down Jaemin’s spine until he feels it in his wet, soggy toes. 

“Now, can I kiss you?”

He doesn’t need to be asked twice as he leans forward, catching Renjun’s lips between his own. They fit so perfectly slotted against his, he has half the mind to make the bold statement that they were made just for him, warm despite the cold air. 

Everything is silent again and all Jaemin can hear is the blood pulsing through his veins, ringing in his ears. This is it. He’s done it. He’s kissed Huang Renjun.

Even through the blurry tears and rainwater dripping off their chins, he concludes that—Renjun indeed tastes sweet. He tastes like caramel sweets, and honey, and molasses, and sugarcane and everything he could ever think of combined. The sweetest sugar with a hint of bitterness on the tip of his tongue from the alcohol. 

It’s funny, here he was thinking he would be the one to treat Renjun so delicately if they ever kissed and yet the gentle way Renjun strokes his cheeks, the fingers that tangle in the curly, damp strands behind his neck tells him Renjun has thought of this moment just as much as he has. Maybe even more.

Jaemin is being kissed like he has never been before. No drunken party kisses, no awkward first kiss at a school dance could compete with this one. Renjun kisses him in a way that makes it feel like a promise, slowly smiling into it and letting out a muffled laugh when their teeth clumsily bump against each other. A silent tease that there is plenty more to come and they will have ample time to savour each one and make it special. 

Renjun deserves nothing less than special, every time. 

When they pull away, Jaemin can’t help but chase after his lips just a little. He gravitates towards the warmth like a moth to a flame. One more peck which Renjun grants without hesitance before he pulls back completely.

A smile stretches across his face. “I love you and I want to kiss you again, like so bad, but do you think we can get out of the rain first?”

We. Them. Together. 

Jaemin’s heart bursts at the word. He nods, lips caught between his teeth to stop the strain in his cheeks. He thinks about everything that has led them to this very moment; the heartache, the denial, the tears. And he smiles. 

He knows this part all too well, the part where it is all smooth sailing from here on out because he’s gone through the hard part. He’s gone through the rushing currents, the resisting pulls and now Jaemin has reached the top of the wave where the skies are clear and he sees the next set of moves so clearly.

“Yes. Yes, let’s do that.”

( “I knew it!” Donghyuck had said the next day when they walked to the car, hand in hand. “No, you didn’t.” Mark and Jeno said, in unison—leaving him to grumble).

With one hand on the wheel and the other slid between Renjun’s nimble fingers, Jaemin has never felt more in control in his life. The waves will always be there for him to find on his hardest days but if there’s one thing he admits to getting wrong, it’s that Renjun was a miscalculated step. 

Renjun was never a misstep. He is the new constant.