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Home, home, home.
That’s all Jaemin ever thought about while he was on hiatus. He missed Jisung waking him up at two in the morning to make ramen. He missed Chenle forcing him to watch basketball when sports weren’t really his thing. He missed Donghyuck talking his ear off about the latest celeb gossip, despite being celebs themselves, and he missed Mark sleeping on their couch after a long, tiring schedule with 127 because hanging out with him always ended like that. And most of all, he missed Jeno, for no real reason other than wanting to be with him.
And sure, Jaemin was jealous of them sometimes, especially after they won their first comeback for My First and Last. He watched their acceptance speech with blurry, red-rimmed eyes, despite the genuine smile on his face. It was impossible not to feel left out and unneeded when they seemed to do just fine without him, moving on stage like one, as if Jaemin had never been there in the first place. And it was impossible not to feel bitter towards himself for getting injured, even though he knew it wasn’t his fault.
But those feelings of negativity never lasted too long. His chest swelled more with pride at their accomplishments than anything else. He knew their dreams were coming true, and eventually, his own would follow suit. The thought of being seven again kept him going each day.
So when his doctor told Jaemin that he could perform again and that he’d finally be able to return home , he immediately packed his bags and gave his mother a kiss on the cheek before booking it to the station. Almost two hours later, he arrived in Seoul, stepping off the platform alone. He walked alongside Han River until blisters formed on the back of his ankles and a certain building came into view.
Quickly, Jaemin jogged upstairs and used muscle memory to locate their dorm. He took a breath before knocking on the front door, hoping Dream hadn’t moved somewhere else while he was gone. He heard muffled voices from inside, debating with each other about whether they were being visited by the take out delivery person or a deranged fan.
The argument fizzled into murmurs, and suddenly, there was a loud cry. Within seconds, the door flung open to reveal each of the members' shocked expressions. Jaemin didn’t know who grabbed him first, but he remembered being pulled into a suffocating embrace, everyone’s hands grabbing at whatever part of him they could touch.
He was welcomed eagerly, taking his things and tossing them what used to be his and Mark’s old room, prior to his hiatus and Mark’s moving out. It didn’t take long to situate himself, since he hadn’t brought anything but the bare necessities.
“They said you were coming next week!” Chenle exclaimed, grinning broadly as he slung an arm around Jaemin’s shoulders. He led Jaemin into their quaint living room, where some space had been cleared for a game of Uno. Jisung had the most cards out of everyone and sighed as he picked up yet another yellow.
Jaemin gladly sprawled himself next to his friends on the floor, who were giddy from drinking soju Mark had brought in celebration of his homecoming.
“I was supposed to, but I don’t know,” Jaemin replied. He watched as Donghyuck came back with a bag of potato chips that he seemed very reluctant to share. (“Johnny’s mother sent me these!” “You stole them from Johnny.” “Did not, now back off!”) But he offered some of his snacks to Jaemin, which he declined with the shake of the head and a smile before his eyes briefly met Jeno’s. Quickly, Jaemin returned his focus to Chenle. “I missed you guys too much to wait another moment, I guess.”
Chenle made a noise of agreement, and Donghyuck asked, “Missed us?” He rolled his eyes, though the action didn’t come off bitter at all. “I got way fewer calls from you than Jeno did,” he added, sending a comical glare in the said boy’s direction. Jeno’s eyes widen at the sudden attention, cheeks tinting pink.
Jaemin looked away quickly. Towards Donghyuck, he said, “Jeno just happened to be more available. You guys were super busy most of the time, and I didn’t want to be a bother.”
In the beginning, the guys tried to keep him in the loop. But eventually, comeback season came along and rightfully swept their attention away. And though Jaemin wanted to hear their voices, to be included in memories they were making, even from a distance, he could never will himself to initiate any conversation first as time went on. Oddly, he felt… embarrassed. He hated coming off desperate like his feelings had to be nursed while they did their jobs, which were exhausting enough.
So it had been an unexpected relief when Jeno took the time to talk to him. He’d send Jaemin blurry pictures of himself and the members, sometimes, or random texts like, “How does one cook again?” at midnight.
But Jaemin enjoyed their phone calls the most. They’d come during the most bizarre hours, and Jaemin would answer every single one. The mere sound of Jeno’s voice comforted him the most during his hiatus. There was no pressure to talk, which was nice. Knowing that someone was simply there for Jaemin made him feel better than any medicine ever could.
“Right,” Donghyuck said in a skeptical tone. He clicked his tongue and stared at Jaemin with knowing eyes before a smile took over his face. “Well, now that you’re here, I have tons to tell you. Like, did you know that Mark dated Koeun during our We Young promotions? Because he did, and it was a fucking disaster…”
For hours, they fed Jaemin stories—Donghyuck and Mark’s petty arguments, Renjun’s encounter with a ghost last month (“It was me,” Jisung whispered to Jaemin. “I accidentally dropped something and ran off before he came back.”), and Chenle’s premature balding after being dyed one too many colors of the rainbow. Jaemin listened to them with a grin, but every so often, he’d glance at Jeno out of the corner of his eye. The latter was a bit quiet from where he sat, across from Jaemin and next to Mark and Donghyuck, sipping his water bottle as everyone spoke out of turn. Once in a while, he lightly shoved Donghyuck’s shoulder after a particularly funny anecdote, but other than that, he didn’t say much.
Jaemin wondered what Jeno had done while he was gone. He knew that Jeno dyed his hair for promotions, giggling, “It looks like there’s seaweed on your head, Nono.” He knew that Jeno recorded two mini albums, and he knew that Jeno grew a few inches. Jaemin knew the obvious, but not much else. It buzzed through him, the curiosity he felt.
“Oh my god, Jaemin!” Chenle burst out, red in the face from cackling. Next to him, Renjun had his arms crossed and was doing his best to give Chenle the evil eye. “Renjun’s voice cracked on stage, dude, it was so funny.”
“Shut your face,” Renjun retorted, though his words held no real bite. “I was literally crying!”
“And you were really cute, Junnie,” Donghyuck cut in, nodding as if Renjun were a child to console. “Your voice crack is going down in history.”
Renjun tried to choke Donghyuck then, tackling him to the ground with the latter screaming under him. Mentally, Jaemin noted the slight blush on Donghyuck’s face. He wondered, just for a moment, if the pink tint came from the play fighting or something else. Then, he looked at Jeno from the corner of his eye and touched his own cheeks, wondering if the heat radiating off them was from the liquor or something else, too.
It was probably the liquor. Hopefully.
Jaemin didn’t drink like the others did—and they were a bunch of lightweights—but still. Jaemin had spent so many days awake while he was gone, daydreaming about this moment. Finally, the nervous anticipation sitting in his bones left him, and Jaemin could finally relax.
His eyes drooped occasionally, and honestly, Jaemin gladly slept on the floor if it weren’t for his back. It was healed, but his doctor told him to be cautious to prevent a worse injury. Jaemin didn’t want to repeat another hiatus or possibly risk never being with Dream again. So he got from the rug and cleaned their mess, careful not to step on Jisung and Chenle’s sleeping—daresay cuddling—forms. Jaemin placed pillows under their heads and spread a fluffy, white comforter over them.
Around midnight, Mark bid everyone a goodnight to head back to his own dorm. Donghyuck, though in the same unit, didn’t follow, claiming that he was too tired and would just wake up early to leave the next morning. Which actually meant that his manager was going to have to drag him out of bed over his cold, dead body. Meanwhile, Renjun had already taken himself to his room a few hours ago, when Chenle and Jisung started wrestling over the remote controller but told Jaemin to get some rest.
That left Jaemin to wonder about Jeno.
Jeno, who visited him the most out of everyone, bringing him class notes and steamed buns. Jeno, who told him about stuff Dream did during schedules but never failed to remind him that they’d be more fun if Jaemin were there. Jeno, who wiped Jaemin’s tears after the doctor said he’d have to take a hiatus for a year, meaning no Dream for a year. Jeno, who held his hand when he couldn’t hold anything else. Jeno, who grew taller, and broader, and more experienced, tried his hardest not to leave Jaemin behind, even though Jaemin could already see him getting farther and farther away like the rest of Dream.
Not until Jeno entered the kitchen did Jaemin become aware of the beating of his heart, nearly causing a soapy plate to slip from his fingers.
“I’ll help you,” Jeno said, walking over with his sleeves rolled up. Jaemin blinked at the sight of his toned arms and decided to busy himself with the dishes once more. He ignored the warmth of his cheeks as Jeno came from behind, chest closing in on Jaemin’s back as he reached for a rinsed cup. “Or, I could do it myself. You shouldn’t be doing this on your first night back, Nana.”
Nana, his mind repeated. Nana was a nickname he had gotten from his mother, and it stuck with him during trainee days. As they got older, most of the people he knew stopped calling him that, even Jisung and Chenle, who were younger than him. And though he knew it was dumb, Jaemin couldn’t fight how the nickname made him feel when Jeno said it. Because when he did, it sounded like the sweetest thing.
“I’ve come back to claim my role as Dream’s maid,” Jaemin joked. “Or house husband, whichever of the two.”
“Don’t say that.” Jaemin looked up to see Jeno frowning at him. The expression took Jaemin off guard. “You’re not just here to clean up after us, Jaemin. You’re a part of Dream too.” Jeno shook his head. “Don’t talk about yourself like… you’re just here .”
Jaemin blinked, trying to comprehend the serious tone of Jeno’s voice. He turned his attention back to the dishes, though nothing was being washed anymore. His hands were simply being doused in water at this point.
“I’m not. I was joking.” Jaemin’s smile was somewhat forced this time. It felt like a heavy stone sunk to the bottom of his stomach. But it feels like that, he thought. It feels like I’m behind and you’re lightyears ahead. “But I will say, cleaning after you guys and stuff makes me feel… normal, you know? Like it’s just another day in the dorms, and this is another part of the routine. Like nothing changed.”
Jeno nodded, seemingly less stiff. The beginnings of a small tugged at his lips, which made Jaemin’s heart flip a little. “I can see why you’d feel that way.”
“Yeah.” Still facing the sink, Jaemin took a breath as the air remained stagnant. “By the way, are you okay?”
Momentarily, Jeno paused. “I am. Why?”
Jaemin tilted his head, side to side, as he thought of a reasonable, non-revealing answer. “I’m just wondering,” was what he settled on. “You were a bit quieter than usual tonight.”
Jeno hummed. “Aren’t I always?”
“Well, yeah. That’s what I told myself. But you’d tell me if there was something else, right? Because you can,” he assured Jeno. “We’re best friends.”
A beat passed, and then another. “Best friends,” Jeno repeated, and Jaemin swore he heard a sigh at the end of his sentence. Or maybe that’s what he wanted to hear. “I know. But I’m okay, seriously.” In a low, concerned voice, he added, “You need to worry about yourself first, Nana. Don’t think I didn’t see those blisters at the back of your heels.”
“Is this your way of telling me that you’re into feet?”
Jeno opened his mouth only to close it. “You are… maybe you should’ve came next week after all,” he said, feigning annoyance. From the corner of his eye, Jaemin caught him smiling.
“My sweet Jeno, always looking after me. What would I do without you?” Jaemin teased, cooing at Jeno, whose face scrunched with embarrassment. Jaemin laughed while he wiped his hands dry of suds. He didn’t know what he was going to say next, maybe a playful retort of some sort, but his train of thought stopped itself short as a pair of familiar arms circled his torso. Jaemin felt Jeno bury himself into the crook of his neck like he was meant to be there. Every hair on his body stood up as Jeno’s breath fanned across his skin. Briefly, his mind short-circuited and made Jaemin question everything about himself.
“I missed you,” Jeno murmured.
Slowly, Jaemin used his fingers to brush some of Jeno’s unkempt black hair back. “I’ve been told that a lot today,” he said in a soft voice. “I’m grateful to be missed.”
Jeno hummed in response, gripping Jaemin tighter like he was trying to make sure Jaemin was truly there. Like he’d float away as another dream. “You should be.”
They stayed like that for a few moments, before Jaemin suddenly released himself from Jeno’s hold and turned to face him. He was still caged by the latter, their faces only inches apart. They were surrounded by nothing but silence and yet. And yet. Jaemin swore that he heard the beginnings of fireworks exploding in his gut, while his heartbeat crescendoed at the sight of Jeno’s plush bottom lip. Never had they been this close, not like this, and that said a lot, because it was them. Jaemin and Jeno, Jeno and Jaemin. Two boys joined at the hip since the day they met on the fourth floor of their company building.
Jaemin and Jeno. Best friends. Right.
“I gave Chenle and Jisung my comforter,” Jaemin murmured, feeling himself blush under Jeno’s gaze. “Can I sleep in your bed tonight?”
Together is what he didn’t say, but he knew that Jeno understood when he nodded. Jaemin took his hand and allowed Jeno to steer him towards his room. There wasn’t much on the white walls, only a few pictures hanging and a dusty bookshelf, and jammed beside his queen-sized bed was a large, dark green bicycle. Memories of Jeno trying to teach Jaemin how to ride it flooded his mind. The sound of Jeno yelling, “Jaem, stop thinking!” and Jaemin yelling back, “Why would I do that?!” as his pedals started to spin faster than his feet could. To say the least, Jaemin ended up with some bruises that day.
“I’m gonna go change in the bathroom,” Jeno said, which caused Jaemin to remember that he had to change too.
He quickly ran back to his room and shoved on a new pair of pajamas. By the time he returned to Jeno’s room, the man was in basketball shorts and a grey hoodie. Jeno looked incredibly plain but adorably plain. Everything about Jeno was extraordinary and beautiful so whatever he wore had to pale in comparison. Jaemin was confident Jeno could shave half of his hair off and still look like the most good-looking person in the room. Which he meant in a best friend way. Not in a “is it my sexuality or just you?” way.
Or did he?
Both options confused him, so Jaemin forced them into the back of his mind and sat on the bed. In an instant, a jolt of pain went up his spine. He had grazed the back of his foot against the carpet floor on accident, causing him to let out an audible wince. Before he could smile it off, Jeno walked over to kneel in front of Jaemin.
“This is going to sting,” Jeno told Jaemin. Effortlessly, he ripped open an alcohol wipe packet with his teeth—which his mind translated as insanely hot, for some reason. Seconds later, his thoughts were interrupted by the very sting Jeno warned him about as Jeno cleaned the blisters. The sensation faded as his body grew used to it, but also, Jeno’s hands made him feel delicate and special and unsure if this was reality or just another fantasy of his.
At Jaemin’s silence, Jeno looked up with an apologetic expression. “Sorry.”
Jaemin shook his head. “It’s alright,” he said. Jeno nodded, and then peeled open a bandaid. “My Little Pony?” Jaemin asked, stifling a laugh as he noticed the colorful unicorn pattern.
“It’s all we had,” Jeno huffed, while he smoothed out the bandaid with his slightly calloused thumbs.
Upon impulse, Jaemin reached out to fondly pet Jeno on the head. The motion seemed to take Jeno off guard because his eyes widened for a moment, but leaned into Jaemin’s touch nonetheless. “Thank you.”
Jeno nodded. “Of course.”
From there, Jaemin crawled onto the bed in a sleepy cat position, He felt the bed give into Jeno’s weight as he settled beside him.
As if on cue, they both tilted their heads toward one another and giggled. “Feels like we’re kids right now,” Jeno said. His eyes were half-moons, especially under the light, Jaemin thought.
“Yeah.” Jaemin grinned.
“I mean, kids as in kids, not ones who actually had a normal childhood,” Jeno explained, which made Jaemin laugh. Jeno was the funniest when he didn’t try, in all honesty. If only people could see that. The world would definitely be a better place then—Jaemin was convinced that Jeno grew a new forest every time his eyes sparkled. Or made the skies sunnier by simply existing. It was a working theory.
“Our weird childhood wasn’t so bad,” Jaemin told him. He sunk himself deeper into the fluffy pillow his head was laid upon, smiling gently at Jeno without hesitation. His body shuffled closer to the latter like it had a mind of its own.“Because we had each other.”
“We had each other,” Jeno repeated, sounding almost entranced by his words. It was then Jaemin noticed how close their faces were again, like in the kitchen. He swallowed in an attempt to push his unusual bout of nervousness down, but Jaemin felt Jeno’s breath fan against lips, which made his heart rattle in the confines of his ribcage.
Their noses nearly brushed each other when Jeno spoke again, voice unwavering. “I meant what I said—about missing you.” He sounded breathless, and Jaemin felt breathless. “I visited your house, even though I knew that meant sprinting back to practice afterward, and my mother thought I was addicted to steam buns at one point, but really, I just wanted a reason to bring them to you. And yeah, our first win made me happy, but I might as well have been standing on stage alone because you weren’t there.”
Jaemin’s heart slowed to a complete stop. His eyes widened, surprised by the admission. “But Dream was there,” he answered softly, no longer talking about the award, but in general. He placed his palm over the back of Jeno’s hand, and his breath hitched as Jeno’s fingers curled around his.
“Dream isn’t you,” Jeno whispered. “There’s no one like you, Jaemin.”
Close, Jaemin thought. Too close.
He heard the fireworks grow louder. Felt the crescendo of his heartbeat. Let the butterflies rattle against his ribcage as Jeno’s lips pressed against his.
They kissed each other slowly, and on purpose, trying to commit the moment to memory. Jaemin was floating then, aware of nothing but Jeno, Jeno, Jeno. Not as his bandmate or a best friend, but as a boy with lips that tasted like cherry sugar. As a boy he knew so much about, but still wanted to map out every part of. As a boy who made Jaemin feel like the world was at his feet, and in his hands, and forever his.
The realization opened Jaemin’s eyes, and his ability to speak had vanished into thin air. Jeno held his hand loosely then, not wanting to let go, but giving Jaemin a chance to pull away either. A few moments passed of them just gazing at each other, unsure of what to say. Jeno seemed wary, and Jaemin hated that he did, because Jeno was never wary. He was cool, and smart, and wonderful, and Jaemin squeezed his hand to tell him. In response, Jeno placed a featherlight kiss across Jaemin’s knuckles.
“Don’t forget,” Jeno whispered. It was almost a plea.
Sleepily, Jaemin nuzzled his head into Jeno’s chest. He whispered back, never, voice too quiet to be heard, before Jeno’s warmth lulled him to sleep. The room became darker then, with only the moonlight shining upon Jeno, who held Jaemin until night turned into day.
Jaemin’s first dream was to become a surgeon. His second dream was to be the best son he could be. His third dream was to help others and make people happier. His fourth dream was to debut with his best friends, and his fifth dream was to come back home.
That night, Jaemin found another dream—one within the others, one that had always been there, since the day he stepped onto the fourth floor of SM Entertainment.
His dream was so very there, that Jaemin had missed it all along. And maybe he’d finally grasp onto it this time, or maybe he wouldn’t, because some dreams disappeared the minute you touched them.
“Psst, red alert, red alert!”
“Chenle, shut the fuck up, please.”
The said boy dramatically whipped his head around, one hand still on the open door. Renjun crossed his arms as Chenle said, “Are we seeing this?” He cracked the door further open, so the others could see their friends cuddling. Their bodies were impossibly tangled with each other, with Jaemin’s head tucked into the crook of Jeno’s neck. “Look at them! Jaemin and Jeno!”
Jisung’s face reddened, unable to do so for more than two seconds. He turned around and muttered, “‘s embarrassing,” while Donghyuck only scoffed out, “About time. Watching them dance around each other for years was painful as fuck.”
Chenle’s mouth hung open. “You knew they were a thing and you didn’t tell me they were a thing?”
“Well, they’ve always kind of been a thing. But not really,” Donghyuck answered. He looked at Jisung, and back at Chenle, who was clueless. “Like you two.”
Jisung sputtered in response, face blooming like a rose garden. “Guys…”
Renjun sighed as Chenle, Jisung, and Donghyuck chattered and bickered amongst themselves. Even as their voices grew in volume, he couldn’t fight the smile on his face. Everything was where it belonged—Dream as seven, Jaemin in Dream and in Jeno’s arms. Hopefully, forever.
Before walking away, Renjun stole a glance at Jeno and smiled, wondering if the dream Jeno had told him about years ago finally came true.