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Surprisingly, it’s not the pain that he notices first, but the smear of bright red against the mouth of his bottle. It’s mid-practice and they’ve just broken for a breather. Renjun’s barely paying attention to the muffled noises of the others behind the door as he waits for his bottle to fill. He has one hand gripped around it, absently scrolling on his phone, taking cursory looks to check on the cooler from time to time. One glance, not yet , scroll, another look, and— wait, what?
It’s unmistakably blood, but it’s so out of place that Renjun’s mind flies to other possibilities. Marker ink? Without thinking, he hooks his phone under his arm, swiping at the stain and bringing his finger to his nose. Yeah, it’s blood for sure. Nothing hurts, so Renjun figures it’s probably his lip. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, trying to taste for where the cut is.
The door bursts open to reveal Donghyuck.
“Hey, can you check and see if my lip’s busted?” Renjun asks. Donghyuck obeys without question.
“Uh… yes? Maybe?”
“It’s a yes or no question,” Renjun laughs. “Am I or am I not bleeding?”
Donghyuck furrows his brow. “To be honest, I can’t tell. Your lip always looks like it’s full of cuts…”
Fair enough. Renjun shrugs it off, turning towards the washrooms down the hall. Donghyuck stops him. “Why? What’s up?”
“Nothing,” Renjun says, though the sight of it has unsettled him a little. The last thing he wants is blood on his clothes.
When Donghyuck makes to follow him to the washrooms, Renjun sighs dramatically. “Stop sticking to me…” Donghyuck slings an arm around him, not the least bit deterred.
“Just two best friends, hand in hand, heading to pee-”
“You’re sticky,” Renjun says with a groan, though he doesn’t make a move to get free. “ I’m sticky. And we’re not hand in hand, and I’m not going to pee.” He doesn’t comment on the best friend part, the way that it warms the pit of his stomach but also sits there, not entirely comfortably, like an answer on a test he isn’t too sure of, weighing at the back of his mind as he goes through the rest of the questions.
Something he gets the nagging feeling to mull over, if only he would give himself the time.
For now, he has other things to think about, like where the mystery blood is coming from. And also (but it’s not exactly news) how to put some very necessary distance between him and an all too eager Lee Haechan.
At the sink, he extricates himself from Donghyuck to rinse his bottle, frowning when he can’t spot any cut on his face in the mirror. Then he sees it, the moment he puts the bottle aside to wash his hands more thoroughly.
On his right hand, crimson has pooled on the nail bed of his ring finger, already dripping onto the tiles below. Renjun gasps softly but wastes no time in reaching for the paper towel dispenser. It’s a miracle nothing has gotten on his sweatshirt. The gash is the ugly, open kind that refuses to be treated gently, the type that everything sticks to. Under his breath, he lets out another curse, trying to deal with the bits of paper towel that are now stuck onto the wound. Giving up, he shoves his hand under the faucet instead, wincing when the water hits.
“Everything okay?” Donghyuck’s asking, having reached the sink next to Renjun. He takes in the sight of Renjun hunched over the washbasin.
“Woah, what?”
“Yeah I don’t know either… Just randomly found this giant cut...”
“Huh,” Donghyuck says. He leans in to get a better look. “Hang on.”
“It’s fine,” Renjun murmurs, frowning at it, paying little attention to Donghyuck who’s now rummaging through his pockets.
“Here-”
It’s only when Donghyuck presses something into his palm that Renjun starts a little. It’s a band-aid. He chuckles.
“You just carry one of these around?”
“All prepared! For little Renjunnie getting hurt.”
Renjun laughs again in disbelief. “Right. I’ll keep that in mind.”
But now comes the problem of putting the thing on. Having torn it open, Renjun fumbles with his left hand.
“Let me do it,” Donghyuck offers, already reaching out and grasping Renjun’s hand in his, albeit much gingerly than he usually would. He pouts a little as he focuses on the task. Renjun is struck by an abrupt realisation: past his exuberant demeanour, Donghyuck is startlingly gentle.
“There, all done! Now say thank you to the surgeon.”
“Thanks, Nurse Lee,” Renjun retorts, but not without giving Donghyuck a grateful smile. He pushes aside all thoughts of how tender Donghyuck’s touch felt. All the same, as Renjun prods him out the door, his skin tingles with the lingering traces of Donghyuck’s fingers, the way they barely brushed against his own.
***
The end of practice comes, finally, as the hour hand on the clock is about to approach two. Renjun’s crouched by the corner, ransacking his bag for some gum he swears he tossed in there this morning. The others are starting to filter out the practice room; Renjun hears the door click shut.
“And how’s our lovely patient doing?”
Donghyuck’s voice is hot in his ear and Renjun startles, turning around.
“It’s kind of been hurting this whole time,” Renjun admits. He tugs at the band-aid to get it off. It’s already loose from the last few hours anyway. Right on cue, the gash starts bleeding rather profusely.
“Oh, wow,” Donghyuck says, eyes wide.
“I can’t believe it hasn’t stopped to be honest,” Renjun says, watching it with a kind of strange wonderment. It’s only when he feels a breath ghosting his forehead that he looks up: Donghyuck is barely an inch from his face, too engrossed in staring at Renjun’s finger.
Renjun finds something catching in his throat. Donghyuck’s so pretty like this, brow slick with sweat and hair swept back from his eyes, his voice still tinged with the breathlessness of a hard practice. Without his face obscured behind a mask, every detail is laid bare. His beautiful skin. The way it’s just the perfect shade of golden. Those tiny moles dotting his cheeks. Renjun’s gaze starts to wander; he takes in the way Donghyuck’s collar bone is showing, his t-shirt having slipped down his shoulder just a fraction…
It’s suddenly a dam that has burst open: Renjun can’t stop the barrage of thoughts that flood his mind. Donghyuck’s sturdy forearms. How stark a contrast they are to his wrists, slender as those are. And even more dangerously, the gentle slope of his thighs, how smooth and strong and sunkissed they look. Curse those stupidly short shorts, why’d they have to ride up like that—
“-junnie?”
Renjun jumps. “Sorry?”
“Do you want another band-aid?” Donghyuck repeats, observing him not without amusement. Renjun blinks. Donghyuck’s eyes are so… When did they get so round? And so large, and were they always this enthralling…?
“I’ll do it,” Donghyuck laughs, shaking his head, producing one from his pocket as promised. A stray strand falls across his forehead. Renjun wants to scream. But before he can even think to open his mouth, his hand is being held in Donghyuck’s once more.
Renjun’s mind scrambles for a distraction.
“Hyuckie,” he settles on whining, “someone’s put a curse on me. There’s no other reason why it wouldn’t stop bleeding.”
Donghyuck’s fingers are soft around his own as he smooths down the edges of the band-aid. His eyes flicker up to meet Renjun’s. “Hmm. So what should I do to make it stop? Should I kiss it better?”
Renjun freezes. Donghyuck’s expression is playful, his lips curled into a smile. Are they talking about Renjun’s finger, still? He’s all up in Renjun’s space now, leaning in so close that Renjun’s eyes are trapped in his, unable to break the stare no matter how hard he tries. And yet, Donghyuck seems perfectly unperturbed, tilting his head just the slightest in order to lean in even nearer. Renjun’s breath, sharp and fast, hitches in his chest; instinctively, without questioning why he does so, he’s squeezing his eyes shut—
There’s a flurry of movement and then, a tiny pressure on his finger. Renjun snaps his eyes open. Donghyuck is pressing a kiss onto the newly-applied band-aid.
“What do you think you’re doing,” Renjun says, faintly. Donghyuck straightens up and shoots him a knowing grin.
“What did you think I was gonna do?”
(Impaired cognitive functions, Renjun later blames everything on. Excessive blood loss.)
In one swift motion, he reaches out and disarms Donghyuck, pinning him to the wall.
“How about you? What d’you reckon I’m gonna do?”
To his credit, Donghyuck doesn’t appear ruffled in the very least. Backed up against the wall, his wrist tight in Renjun’s grip, he just cocks an eyebrow at him, his gaze knowing and questioning all at once. Yet, Renjun’s determined to hold his own. He ignores the pounding in his ears to push further against Donghyuck, feeling the heat emanating off of him in waves.
Just as Renjun’s veneer of bravado starts to crack, Donghyuck breaks the silence by laughing. Renjun glares at him, indignation bubbling in his chest.
“Are you dumb?” Donghyuck seems to be enjoying himself thoroughly. It’s most infuriating.
“What?” Rejun says. His voice rings in the empty studio. “Me?? Dumb? You’re the one who-”
“Who what?” Donghyuck’s stare is defiant now. Despite this, he’s made no effort to move, like he’s completely content with being pressed like this against the wall. “You know, for someone who was just about to do something, you sure are all talk, no action.”
Something, hot and alive, erupts in the pit of Renjun’s stomach. How can something sound so much like an invitation and a threat?
But is Renjun reading too much into it, or is Donghyuck nervous? Renjun can swear a sliver of hesitance crosses Donghyuck’s eyes. Then Donghyuck’s blinking and it’s gone, but apparently not fast enough to escape Renjun. Renjun swallows thickly. Suddenly the room is too small and all he needs is to get out. If not, he somehow knows, something’s going to unravel. Something he’s not going to be able to stop.
“You’re a fucking idiot, you know that,” he snaps. He doesn’t even wait for Donghyuck to respond, already dropping Donghyuck’s wrist and turning away. But it seems like Donghyuck has other ideas.
“And you,” Donghyuck replies, immediately grabbing onto Renjun’s waist to hold him back, “are the world’s worst kisser ever in the history of worst kissers.”
Renjun has scarce time to process that comeback (-what??) before Donghyuck is a hair’s breadth from him and looking at him square in the face with a fierce kind of intensity, and Renjun is nodding the tiniest, quickest, most breathless nod in the history of nods and Donghyuck is grabbing the nape of his neck. And kissing him.
Oh.
Renjun is so dizzy he thinks he might pass out. But Donghyuck is so outrageously firm under his fingertips, every inch that Renjun can get his hands on, his skin a canvas under Renjun’s touch. Donghyuck’s mouth is no different. He kisses exactly like he touches. No holds barred. He sucks on the corner of Renjun’s bottom lip, a touch too clumsily; Renjun sways on the spot from how much his head is spinning. Although, his mouth seems to be in perfect working condition. He’s letting Donghyuck in now, his teeth grazing Donghyuck’s lip and nicking as he goes along. As far as he can get, he trails his tongue along where it seems to hit Donghyuck the hardest.
“-jun, wait,” Donghyuck exhales jaggedly. Only Renjun gets the sense that Donghyuck doesn’t want him to wait at all, which is proven true the next moment as Donghyuck shoves him against the wall and reaches for his waist again, this time under his clothes. The impact is nowhere hard enough to hurt and Renjun shudders. He’s had his eyes shut the whole time, yet the mere mental image of Donghyuck, well-spent after a gruelling rehearsal and needily panting into his mouth, is more than sufficient to send shivers up his spine.
Donghyuck breaks the contact for a split second, only to press a kiss along Renjun’s jaw. The growl that comes from Renjun’s throat takes even him by surprise. Fuck, he groans, or thinks he groans. Either way, Donghyuck is already on the move, working his way along Renjun’s jaw, even pausing sporadically to suck on it with small, sharp inhales. Renjun knees buckle a little.
“Hang on,” Renjun gasps, snapping his eyes open. “Oh my fucking god, Hyuck-”
“At your service,” Donhyuck grins, as lazily as ever. The only indication of anything different is the blazing look in his eye.
The full weight of what they’re doing comes crashing down upon Renjun.
“Hyuck-”
“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Donghyuck hurries to say, cutting him off. “Tell me. Wasn’t it the same for you too?”
Renjun can’t deny it.
“Can we talk later? I know we have to talk about this. All of this. But,” — Donghyuck pulls Renjun towards him once more, staring at him now with a sort of hungry pleading — “I think I’m gonna burst into tears right this instant if I don’t get to continue kissing you at once.”
Renjun's breath feels like it’s perpetually escaping him. In any case, it’s getting harder to breathe.
“Please,” he ends up saying, shakily, “by all means. Please continue to do so.”
Needless to say, Donghyuck doesn’t need to be told twice.
(It takes quite some time before either of them notices that their phones are blowing up with calls, the other members wondering what the hell the both of them could be up to.
“Passionately making out, I bet,” grumbles Jaemin, only half-jokingly, as Jeno wraps a placating arm around his waist and buries his head snugly into the nook of his neck.)