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Things have been weird since The Bite.
Jisung can only refer to it as such because acknowledging it as anything else causes his face to become embarrassingly hot and his stomach to do all sorts of weird things.
Jisung thinks he’s allowed to feel weird about this, or at least wallow in his weirdness. Nobody has really told him otherwise either, because it’s not every day your werewolf roommate has to be chained in his bedroom because he bites you after confessing his feelings, and it’s doubly not every day that as a consequence of that, you are now also going to suffer from fullmoon-itis.
Jeno hasn’t come out of his room unsupervised since, Jaemin sleeping on the couch to escort him to the bathroom at night and Renjun coming over to give him his work from class. Renjun’s little concoctions do a lot to keep the both of them calm, because two werewolves locked in a cage equals bad news or… something. Jisung doesn’t know the rules, and he doesn’t feel particularly wolfy either. He’s received the profuse apologies, spoken to a transition specialist, told his parents. It’s the way of the world now. Jisung just wishes he could see Jeno alone.
Jeno didn’t mean to hurt him—he didn’t hurt him at all. They kissed and then suddenly lips were on his neck and then teeth and then snap. The mere thought of the interaction makes shivers run up Jisung’s spine, the memory of Jeno’s canines sinking into his flesh still rampant in his mind.
Jisung’s hand raises to feel where two small bumps still lay, almost completely healed thanks to his new (for lack of a better term) wolfiness, and he looks to his door in the hopes that somehow Jeno will waltz right through it like he did that night.
It was nuts, the entire ordeal. Jeno came in with sweat on his brow and a vengeance in his demeanor, telling Jisung I have to do this now, or else I’ll never get the courage to later. At the time, Jisung almost made fun of Jeno for even insinuating that he couldn’t muster up the courage for whatever he put his mind to. Jeno, by default, is very brave. Or rather, he doesn’t necessarily fear consequences.
He’s the first one to jump from bridges into lakes and the last to step away from steep ledges. Jeno has surfed amongst sharks and grabbed burning hot pans from the oven without pretense.
When Jeno was 17 years old, he went out and got himself bitten by a fucking werewolf.
So yeah, Jisung didn’t take him very seriously at first, but then Jeno sat him down on the edge of his bed and started giving him this look that felt so incredibly personal. He looked at Jisung as if he was holding the key to the universe, and then he said something that Jisung still hasn’t fully processed.
I’ve been in love with you for over a year. I don’t know why I didn’t really understand that that's what all of… this was, but it is. I… I really like you Jisung.
It was so random, so honest and yet incredibly casual. Jeno relayed this deep truth to him as if he was explaining the weather, and Jisung knows that is just how Jeno is. He laughed, and then he almost cried, and then there was the aforementioned kissing.
Jisung’s leg taps incessantly as he gets lost in replays of that night, the memory of Jeno’s hand holding his jaw like a spectre that haunts him in his dreams. It’s been a lonely three weeks, and though Jisung claims to be handling all of this well, he admits that there are nights he cries himself to sleep.
This endeavor is scary and new, and it’s not the same as going through puberty or getting a bad haircut. What he’s experiencing isn’t everyone's normal, but it is Jeno’s, and he craves that reassurance now more than ever.
“Fuck.” Jisung huffs to nobody but himself, the dim light from his bedside lamp making everything feel all the more gloomy. Maybe he should go out and watch tv with Jaemin until he inevitably passes out, or perhaps a snack will lighten his mood.
Both of those excuses are thinly veiled lies to himself to let Jisung catch a whiff of Jeno from underneath his door, but Jisung has always been good at the art of denial.
Standing from his bed, Jisung exchanges his t-shirt for a hoodie, the October nighttime air filtering in from his open window becoming a bit too cold. One specifically wolfy change that Jisung has felt has been his body temperature, and he gets hot flashes like the most pregnant woman anyone has ever seen.
No matter, because Jeno obviously likes the cold, and Jaemin’s always wearing 80 million layers anyways.
🐾
Opening his bedroom door feels like he’s breaking a rule, even though Jisung has been moving freely throughout the apartment since the incident. For the first few nights, Jeno was kept somewhere that he apparently goes to sometimes to ride out full moons. Jisung used to think he was sleeping with Jaemin once a month because they would always drive off together like clock work. Later he obviously realized that not to be the case, and was further soothed by the fact that Jaemin likes to hang off of Johnny like some hungry little leech.
Despite his bloodthirstiness, Jaemin has been very nice about this whole ordeal, and has sat with Jisung on multiple occasions to make sure he’s doing okay. Even before The Bite, Jaemin was one of Jisung’s closests friends, and he can see why Jeno trusts him to be there when he goes full wolf mode.
Walking out into the dark hallway, Jisung tries (and invariably fails) to ignore the obvious glow coming from under Jeno’s door, spilling out into the hallway like a marker of fools gold. God Jisung misses him. He misses their late night talks on the fire escape and having to order chinese food when one of them fucks up dinner and their walks to see the sunrise. Jeno is so… he’s a lot of things, and Jisung misses all of them, more than he’s ever really had the chance to process.
“Jisung?” A voice calls from the couch that Jisung suddenly realizes he’s very close to, his feet having carried him farther than his mind could catch up with.
Sitting on the couch where he always is, Jaemin looks over his shoulder with a smile, his hair messily styled and his shoulders… exposed?
“I thought you were sleeping, I was just going to text you,” Jaemin says as he sets the tv remote down, standing to reveal to Jisung that he’s definitely dressed up with the intent to go somewhere. Jisung tries to remember the day, because his first instinct is for it to be weird that Jaemin is going out on a Tuesday, but then the weeks suddenly catch up with him, and the reality of time wasted hits harder than he expects.
“Text me what?” Jisung asks despite having an idea of where this is going, Jaemin’s tight ripped skinny jeans and sparkly eye makeup enough to give away the answer.
“Johnny and I are going out for a bit for Halloween, but I’ll be back later, okay?” He says it as if Jisung is his child that only knows how to cook canned spaghettios, and Jisung has to war with the fact that he is kind of afraid of being alone.
Not because he’s afraid of Jeno at all, but because he’s still dealing with his own feelings, and the ramifications of Jeno’s actions. Jisung’s self control is steel when there are eyes on him, but he’s already itching to open the forbidden door when he watches Jaemin pull his phone from his back pocket.
“I’ll have my phone on, and you have Johnny’s number in case I don’t answer,” Jaemin says with a soft smile, obviously gauging Jisung’s features with each passing second. Jisung has no idea what he must look like, the little dog man in his head running on its hamster wheel at a million miles per hour, but he tries to relay casual indifference. “Just leave Jeno alone for now, and after this next full moon we can talk about what to do. I know it’s been weird, but things have to go back to normal at some point.”
There’s that word again— weird. Everything is weird. Jisung is weird. Being a werewolf is weird. Being babysat by your 23 year old friend is weird.
And yet, it is Jisung’s new normal, and that is the strangest part of it all.
Jaemin will eventually leave their apartment and return to his own, and Jeno and Jisung will go back to being normal roommates, except with double the fur down the drain.
The thought makes Jisung kind of want to cry again, but he holds it together, knowing more than anything that Jaemin deserves a break from all of the insanity. He’s been better than either he or Jeno could have asked for, and Jisung can promise to try and be rational for one night.
“Don’t worry, Jaem. We’re fine,” Jisung replies as convincingly as he can, not wanting to give Jaemin a reason to back out of his plans. He looks hot and his boyfriend is waiting for him, so who is Jisung to deny a man of such things? “I’m probably going to try and go to bed anyway.”
It’s another thinly veiled lie, but Jisung is only human—mostly.
Jaemin seems to see through it too, but if the way his singular look of skepticism gets blown away with the gentle breeze is anything to go by, then he’s not going to question it. Whether out of genuine trust, or caretaker burnout, Jaemin just lets it be, and gives Jisung another smile that’s laced with a plea.
“Okay, call me if you need anything,” Jaemin says while backing away towards the door, clearly hesitant to leave despite the way he’s literally glowing with excitement to be out of this testosterone muddied apartment. “Seriously, just call.”
“I will,” Jisung insists with his best annoyed groan, making a shooing motion with his hands as Jaemin continues to step towards the exit, pausing when the doorknob is in his grasp. “Jaemin, please go. I don’t want you to waste away in here.”
This finally makes Jaemin’s features relax, and he releases a laugh that feels as genuine as it can be considering the circumstances. It’s almost like he knows exactly what Jisung is thinking, and yet… he’s giving him the opportunity to choose anyways. “Fine, fine, I’m going. But don’t do anything stupid, Jisung Park. I mean it.”
The playful stare turns mildly threatening, but in the same way a mother is mildly threatening, and Jisung nods like the dutiful son. “I won’t be stupid, I promise. Now go.”
Jisung at least means that much, and when Jaemin gives him one final wave before slipping out the front door, he really intends to act on it.
🐾
Jisung counts 14 horns honking outside his bedroom window before he starts to get restless. After the cars, he counts how many times he hears a dog barking, and then begins to try and guess the time before checking the clock to see if he’s right (he usually isn’t).
At around 1:46 am, and a guess that it was 2:30, Jisung sits up in bed, looking around at the darkness of his room that’s bathed only in the weak moonlight from the open window. He checks his phone to make sure Jaemin hasn’t tried to text him, and checks to see that their Ring doorbell has only picked up a lady walking by to take her dog out.
Jaemin isn’t home, Jisung can’t sleep, and his ears twitch with the faintest sounds that he tries his best not to focus on. Quiet breathing and softly thrumming music shouldn’t be crawling under Jisung’s skin like wiggly worms, especially not when two walls and a world of ambience sits between them.
Jisung is so in tune with Jeno in his room across the hall that he can hear every time he stands from his bed, also knowing the exact position he sits back down in. Sometimes Jeno paces, and sometimes videos play and he laughs quietly to himself. He’s also not able to sleep, and Jisung knows he hasn’t been able to since The Bite, but nobody really has.
This is a bad idea.
Jisung thinks it even as he stands from the bed, his oversized sleep shirt drowning out his shoulders but still only barely reaching the tops of his thighs, long limbs sort of taking away the meaning of oversized. Plaid boxers with frayed edges make up for the rest of needed coverage, but presentability is the furthest thing from Jisung’s mind as he pads over to his bedroom door on bare feet.
I’m just going to check in on him. Nobody needs to know.
And yet Jisung knows that if this were really an innocent endeavor, he wouldn’t be having to rationalize with himself over it. If Jisung were genuinely just going to pop in and leave, then his heart wouldn’t be beating erratically in his ears, and he wouldn’t be hyper aware of how Jeno’s movements stop entirely the second his bedroom door opens.
Kissing then teeth then snap.
The Bite plays over in Jisung’s head once more, but it doesn’t fill Jisung with anxiety the way it did only hours ago. Jaemin had said things will have to go back to normal eventually, and Jisung doesn’t want that normalcy decided for them by people who have no idea what it’s like. He knows that Jeno fucked up, he knows more than anyone that this was not supposed to happen, but Jisung also needs Jeno more than he ever has before.
It’s with this desperate craving for reassurance that Jisung crosses the dark hallway, Jeno’s scent already wafting from under the door like some sort of air freshener. One perk to his wolfiness is that the agonizing time apart has been filled with new ways to feel close, and Jisung has spent many nights in the bathtub just soaking in the remnants of Jeno’s skin from the tiled walls.
The whole ordeal sounds strange even to his ears—weird, as with everything else—but Jisung has learned very quickly that finding comfort is sometimes the most important thing. Everything else is just confetti.
“Jeno?” Jisung calls out without thinking, knowing that he’s on the other side of the door, able to see the shadow of his feet as if he’s mirroring Jisung’s exact position. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t be doing this, but I just need—”
The door opens, and Jisung swears he barely even blinks as it happens. One second there is a barrier between them, and the next there is not, and Jisung’s chest stills entirely.
“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” Jeno asks with genuine concern in his voice, his skin looking paler than it was, his eyes bloodshot. “Are you hurt?”
Jisung shakes his head immediately, the words harder to find as he realizes that he’s drowning in Jeno’s presence. His scent, his warmth, the glow of his room. Everything consumes Jisung like a python, sweet and suffocating but primal and safe. Jisung’s insides crumble before he has the chance to catch them, falling to the hardwood floor like cake that’s all dried out.
“Jisung?” Jeno calls again, his hand raising from his side before dropping back down in an instant, and Jisung loses his sense.
He feels the warmth before it registers that they’re hugging, Jisung’s arms tightly winding around Jeno’s waist until he’s almost able to reach around and touch himself again. Jeno is perfect for hugging, sturdy but smotherable, and Jisung feels the stinging of tears when two strong arms suddenly hold him right back.
“Please, please,” Jisung begs as warm tears begin to paint his cheeks, every overflowing emotion that he’s tampered down suddenly rising to the surface now that he truly feels like he can relax. Despite Jeno being the cause of all of his new problems, he is also the only person in the entire world who can make him feel better, and being kept apart has been fucking torture.
“Please what, Ji? I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong,” Jeno says with just as much desperation, his own voice sounding weak to Jisung’s static-filled ears.
Which of course makes Jisung cry harder, his chest rattling painfully as he sobs into Jeno’s shoulder. Everything hurts now that he’s allowing himself to feel it, his bones aching and his teeth throbbing. It all muddies together into one big giant monster that won’t let Jisung go, keeping him ensnared until he has no choice but to collapse like a house made of cards.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Jeno murmurs softly into his ear, apparently able to feel Jisung’s legs giving out from under him, because suddenly Jisung isn’t standing at all. “I’ve got you.”
Jisung hardly knows what’s happening until he’s being set down amongst cold sheets that smell like pine and skin and the paper from old books. Jisung’s sensitive nose paints pictures in his mind as a soothing and protective warmth wraps around him from behind, arm tethering him to the mattress as if in fear he’ll float away.
Images of Jeno laying in this very bed and reading, memories of watching Jeno nap after a long day of classes. Jisung never understood why Jeno went to grad school when undergrad was already awful, but Jeno has always liked being challenged, always craved proving himself wrong.
Jeno is a creature of habit and determination and staying up way too late only to wake up just as unreasonably early. He’s a scholar and a werewolf, a jock and also very into poetry. It’s ridiculous how stupidly human he is, so endearing in his normalcy, and Jisung has fallen for every second of it.
Somewhere between realizing that he’s getting quite warm with Jeno breathing down his neck, and panicking because he isn’t sure how much time has gone by, Jisung notices that he’s stopped crying. His nose is stuffy and his throat is sore, but he’s calm, and Jeno is holding him as if he’s nothing more than another pillow.
“Are you alright?” Jeno suddenly asks amongst the silence, making Jisung jump slightly in his arms.
Jisung thinks he should probably feel more embarrassed, but Jeno turned him into a werewolf, so que sera, he supposes.
“Yeah, thanks,” he mutters in reply, voice still gravely from the tears but his heart feeling much lighter. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” Jeno returns without missing a beat, his grip loosening just enough for Jisung to turn around without having to fight him on it. If he’s honest, Jisung doesn’t even know why he turns to face Jeno, because he doesn’t think he’s ready for it, but his body apparently has a mind of its own today. “You’re allowed to cry.”
I know, is what Jisung wants to say.
“I miss you,” is what spills out instead. Amongst all of the chaos, above all of the noise and the smells and the feelings, all that Jisung cares about is how badly he’s missed Jeno. Every night has felt hollow and every meal has been lonely, because Jisung has felt Jeno’s presence like a ghost. There but not really.
His friends’ reasons for keeping them apart were logical and fair, but it still sucked, and Jisung doesn’t think he can take another second of it.
Jeno, though, must feel unsure, because his features twist in complete and utter confusion at Jisung’s confession, as if the man has just spoken in tongues. “Jisung, you shouldn’t miss me. I bit you. I—I turned you into a monster.”
Jisung rears back as if Jeno had just slapped him, his hand coming up to push at Jeno’s chest so that they’re not so close. He looks into Jeno’s brown eyes with clear reprimand, feeling the frown in his brow. “Don’t say that about yourself. You’re not a monster.”
A small scoff escapes Jeno, and now Jisung’s previous sadness is being replaced with frustration. How dare Jeno decide what Jisung is? He isn’t a monster, and Jeno never has been. This is just who they are now, and Jisung has come to terms with it in three weeks, so how has Jeno not accepted that after so many years?
“Ji, you don’t have to be nice about this. I’m the one who—”
“You’re the one who told me you were in love with me and then bit me, invariably changing my life forever, yes,” Jisung says with clear sarcasm lacing his voice, the hand on Jeno’s chest curling to grip the front of his shirt, a newfound confidence suddenly coursing through his veins. Perhaps wolfiness has other perks. “But you’re also Jeno, my Jeno, and I have needed you more in these past three weeks than I’ve ever needed you before. Don’t you dare sit there and call yourself a monster, because despite this being the scariest thing I’ve ever had to go through, it was a million times worse because I went through it without you.”
Jisung’s rant ends with a huff, the grip on Jeno’s shirt tightening to bring him closer. Their foreheads touch gently, Jisung leaning forward just enough to brush their noses together like two puppies meeting for the first time. It’s wholesome and doesn’t match Jisung’s tirade at all, but it feels right, and something in Jeno’s chest rumbles pleasantly at the affection.
“I need you, Jeno Lee. Things have been… odd, but it’s okay. I’m okay.” Jisung pauses, a slight smile shining through in his voice that feels almost foreign. Never has Jisung been the type to admit things with reckless abandon, but so much shit has been thrown at him that this feels like breathing air. Telling Jeno what he means to him is just another normal, and Jisung knows that like with everything else, he’ll get used to it. “I just want you, okay?”
Slowly, like a sun cresting on the horizon, Jeno beams with a blinding warmth. It’s like being handed a secret or told a funny joke, and Jisung’s insides churn in that way he has never understood before. Having Jeno so close is addicting, like a drug that he’s been denied for too long, but Jisung thinks he understands it now. Can someone experience withdrawal for something they’ve never taken? Or is this just a craving that Jisung can’t name?
Their noses brush again, and again, and Jisung’s breath hitches when suddenly that warmth isn’t just a figment of his imagination. Jeno kisses with much more confidence than he did the night that things changed forever, but Jisung takes it with just as much eagerness. His hand finds Jeno’s waist, Jeno’s warm fingers cupping his neck and brushing over the little bumps that still make him shiver.
Another low rumble reverberates against Jisung’s lips as they kiss with a dangerous curiosity, almost as if Jeno is proud of what he’s done. It’s endearing and silly and Jisung fucking loves it—he loves Jeno, as ridiculous as it is to admit. There’s nobody else that could make him feel this way, absolutely nobody else that could quiet so much noise (with super hearing no less). Jeno is campfires and library books and flaky pastry, he’s accidental cotton candy sunrises and much needed golden hours. Amongst everything scary and terrible, Jisung is reminded of so much good in the way Jeno tastes, and having to part for breath is like being descended from heaven.
They take a moment to collect themselves, Jisung trying not to squirm with how Jeno’s fingers play with the hair at his nape. He really needs a haircut, they both do, but that is obviously not very important right now.
All that Jisung can focus on is Jeno, watching him with rapt attention as Jeno stares right back. They take in each other’s features as if for the very first time, and Jisung falls for him a million times over. Jeno’s mole on his cheek is an old friend, his fluttering lashes privy to all of Jisung’s secrets. The silence between them is filled with so much still unsaid, but Jeno doesn’t seem inclined to let it linger.
“Sorry I bit you,” Jeno says breathlessly, his features turned up in a dazed grin that gives Jisung butterflies. “Wanna go out?”
It takes a second for Jisung to register what the hell Jeno has just asked him, because no fucking way Jeno is so cheesy.
Then he realizes that yes, he is, and Jisung’s entire body flails back with a laugh. He laughs so hard it hurts, his stomach aching with it, and it feels like suddenly being able to breathe after being held under water.
This feeling is normal, this ease that comes with being around Jeno as familiar as his own skin. Life is scary and weird and things will happen that Jisung doesn’t understand, but he does understand Jeno, and that has never been a hard thing to do.
“You’re fucking terrible,” Jisung manages to reply amongst his dying giggles, Jeno swiping away the tears from his cheeks despite how Jisung is trying to swat his hands away. Obviously Jisung doesn’t want Jeno to stop touching him, and just like Jisung has always known that he’s going to be alright, Jeno knows what he needs to get there.
“And you are so cute when you’re flustered,” Jeno teases with another kiss to Jisung’s cheek, the flailing limbs now perfectly contained as they gravitate towards each other as easily as the planets. Holding Jeno is exactly where Jisung is supposed to be, even if it took all of these wildly unnecessary steps. “Say yes.”
The earnestness in Jeno’s voice tells Jisung that he really has no choice but to give in, as if it was any sort of choice to begin with. From the very first day that Jisung laid eyes on Jeno, he’s known that he would change his life forever, and fate clearly did not want to disappoint. They have always been faithful companions, patient friends, and now they are eager to venture into being so much more.
Yes, life is weird, and being a werewolf is weird, and falling in love with your roommate is weird, but Jisung is beginning to fall for all things unreasonable.
“Of course I’m saying yes,” Jisung finally mutters in reply, his lips pursing to keep his grin at bay. This feels so incredibly right, like a bone popping into place, and Jisung lets Jeno bathe in his acceptance. “You never made it hard to say.”
Sometimes guys bite you and you turn into a werewolf, but Jisung thinks he could get used to loving the moon.