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Jeno wakes up still stoned. It takes him a moment, between his swollen eyes and dry mouth to figure out where he is and what he’s doing. He tugs at his tank top, clinging to the sweat on his back. Ew . The first thing that pulls him back down to earth is Jaem, snoring like a fucking jet engine. Weirdly, reassuring in its depth. Jeno looks at him, he’s like a steam train that comes and goes, up and down, in and out. the sheets covering him rising and falling in lovely mountains and valleys.
When Jeno sits up in the dark of his bedroom, light barely caresses the spaces between his curtains, catching the tip of Jaemin's nose, the ends of his eyelashes. He’d be so embarrassed if Jeno told him, but these are the only times wherever looks peaceful, nobody looking, the times where Jeno has Jaemin all to himself. Crumpled face, his hand is curled up next to his face, holding the air between them.
Tanned skin on white cotton sheets, Jeno rolls over. Groans thickly and pushes his hair back from his face. Sitting there on the edge of his bed while Jaemin sleeps, he calmly collects himself, tapes it all back together. Good as new.
Every day is a brand-new scene and all Jeno ever manages to do is put on his shorts.
As he slides them up the other leg Jaemin stirs, pressing his face into Jeno’s pillow. His heart turns a bit at the sight, and he swallows, coughing gruffly.
“Morning.”
Jaemin makes an inhuman sound, and he laughs, walking over to the window.
He pushes open the curtains and flings a fresh pair of Jocks at Jaemin’s face.
“Buckle up Jaem, we got a long day ahead of us.”
Jaemin barely stirs. “Long day of doing nothing.”
“That’s the beauty.” He murmurs and kicks a shoe off a floor t-shirt. Not too visibly stained, he straightens it out.
He presses his nose to the collar and coughs. It belongs to Jaemin, and it’s got that god awful smell of the cologne he refuses to give up.
“It's choking me.” he drawls and Jaemin shakes his head.
“That scent was like half of my fucking paycheck from last week. Jeno, I’m not going to let your negative vibes intrude on my shit.
“God you’re such a loser.”
He throws the shirt on anyway, hoping Jaemin doesn’t notice. Of course, he doesn’t.
They make their way downstairs, Jaemin already bright and bushy tailed. He’s always been the morning person of them, happy to rise with the sun, tired of the party before it’s even properly started. He’s like that in his strange Jaemin way.
Jeno’s nodding his head along to the song on the radio as Jaemin hums, pancakes on the stove. Jaemin moves through the kitchen like he moves through life; a man on a mission. Jeno has resigned himself to the task of making them coffee. It’s the least he can do, somehow the most he can ever do. Useless .
They sit down to eat, Jeno kicks his legs up onto the table, Jaemin sits with a blanket wrapped around him, cross legged on the chair. Cute . Uses both hands to drink his coffee. Jeno looks away uncomfortably and starts spreading Nutella on his pancake.
“You eat like a bear.” Jaemin says pointedly.
He shrugs, shoving the rest in his mouth. “Roll that over to me.”
Jaemin picks up the half-empty beer before shrugging and taking a swig. He pulls a face. “Nah dude. I wanna go to Walmart.”
“God.” Jeno scrunches up his face. “Why?”
“Want orange juice.”
He watches Jaemin raise the bottle again. His Adam's apple bobbing. Every part of Jaemin is so defined, another one of those strange things about him that Jeno can’t help from getting locked on these past few months. How could somebody look that good when they’ve just woken up?
“You don’t even like those things.”
Jaemin wipes his mouth and turns it over in his hand, frowning. “It’s okay.”
“Just okay?”
He screws up his face.
Jeno’s mouth is still dry, and he can’t stop focusing in and out of everything, his head feels like it won’t stop slouching off to the left. “Can we watch Gravity Falls? just until I'm good.”
“The one with the time traveller?”
“God yes.”
They slouch on over to the sitting room, where Jeno flops down and the couch and Jaemin settles down gracefully in front of it. Bess sleeps on the armchair in front of the window. She’s so small and cosy looking. Jeno would love to feel like that.
He spends a lot of the time, distracted. He keeps thinking about how this feels like being a small kid again. He can’t go back to school, he physically can’t, but Jaemin will never understand that. He always shines. There’s so much riding on this year Jeno can’t even comprehend just how much work he hasn’t done. He’s looking at Jaemin’s hair, and then reaches out and starts toying with it. He’s always been a tactile person, and there’s nothing as comforting to him in this world as Jaemin’s presence.
One episode becomes five and Jeno falls back asleep and wakes up to Jaemin’s laughter, because the gang’s falling down a bottomless hole.
He pretends to still be asleep, so as not to disturb him, but Jaemin turns around and beams at him, lighting up every one of Jaemin’s organs. “You good?”
Jeno yawns. “Yeah, I feel better now.”
They hit the road, going nowhere.
Jeno’s still in his honeymoon phase of having a car and a licence. He can drive anywhere he wants to, he owns the car, it’s his space. Also, Jaemin’s. All day, day in day out he’s picking Jaemin and taking him home again.
They pull in and he pretends to mind when Jaemin fiddles with the aux. One of his things he always does is skip songs constantly. He’ll start playing something and then it’s like Jaemin’s mind is like, ‘no, not good enough for this exact moment.’ Even when doing something small, simple, Jaemin always thinks of his life as a series of key moments to be broken down by somebody else. Like all of the other well-manicured and practised aspects of Jaemin’s life.
Jaemin, an academic machine, had struggled with this one assignment just before the summer had given out. They were supposed to write letters to their future selves.
“I dunno what I’m supposed to say.” he had said, crossing out lines of looping handwriting and throwing his head down on the kitchen table.
Jeno had looked up from his phone. “Dude, it doesn’t matter, just write anything.”
Jaemin had made a face. “I don’t wanna write just anything.”
Jeno had shrugged. “Then don’t hand it in.”
“I can’t do that either.”
He had hummed then, clicking his pen. In and Out and in and out.
“Hey Jen?”
“Hmm?”
“What did you write?”
“Some bullshit.”
“No honestly. Do you have it on you? I wanna read it.”
“It’s dumb. Just do your homework.”
“I can’t do it; I need some kind of ignition.”
“I don’t think you’ll get any divine inspiration from the writings of Jeno Lee.” it came out more sarcastically than he intended.
“You never know. You’re smarter than you think. And also, I’m curious.”
“I just said that I hope there is no future for me.”
“What?”
“No, no. Not like... I wanna die, I mean I don’t wanna die, I just wanna like, extend my youth.”
“What’s that even mean?”
Jeno shakes his head. “I told you. It’s hopeless.”
“No, I mean like genuinely.”
“I dunno, I guess, I just always want to live in here. Like...” he draws a box with his fingers. “Here. Now.”
“That’s so strange to me.”
He shrugged. “I guess it would be.”
He peered over at Jaemin’s notebook. “I thought you would have an easy time with something like this.”
“I thought so too.” Jaemin said, looking at the paper. “But I can’t stop feeling like I’m writing it for the people who’ll read it when I'm dead.”
“That’s really weird, Jaemin.”
He had closed the notebook, sticking his tongue out at Jeno. “I don't know why we’re friends.”
“You can just play a song.” He speaks. “You don’t have to put on the whole performance over what you think is acceptable.” He yawns again. “Just choose a damn song.”
“I can’t.”
“Pick one from your On Repeat.”
He’s quiet then, as he plays Strawberry Fields by the Beatles.
The sun is that golden, dusky four pm summer sun and Jeno feels his heart sigh with affection, knowing Jaemin’s there next to him, arms crossed over the open window, cheek pressed into them, hair held gently by the breeze.
“Your hair’s gotten so long.” He doesn’t even realise he’s said it until it’s out, and he curses himself for interrupting this one perfect moment.
Jaemin turns to him with sleepy blissful eyes and it takes everything in him to keep his eyes on the road.
“Yeah? You a fan?”
“You look like a girl.”
Jaemin giggles, and he sure doesn’t sound like one, but that doesn't stop any of the fireworks in Jeno’s heart.
“You wish I was.”
All the fucking time.
You’re too good for me. You’re too good for me. You’re too good for me.
They pull up in a cornfield out in nowhere. They do this all the time, just to change the scenery.
“Wake me when I’m half dead.” Jaemin says and he turns his body, kicking off his shoes and putting his feet up against the dash.
“Wow. I drive you in my car, I feed you, and you won’t even stay awake to entertain me.”
Jaemin rolls his eyes and groans.
“I want it to be summer forever.” he says finally, with Jaemin watching him.
“It’s not all bad! Senior year.”
Jeno grimaces.
“What are you nervous about?”
“It’s gonna be a busy year, I mean, Team captain, you’re gonna be busy with all your class president shit and everyone always talks about how thick teachers are gonna be laying it on...”
Jaemin laughs and reaches out to pinch his cheek.
“Scared I won’t have time for you?”
“Of course, I am.”
Jaemin scoots up, trying to sit up straight but he kind of just..., flails. Jeno laughs and helps him up as he splutters.
“All good now man, thanks.” His eyes furrow. “Of course, I’ll have time for you.”
He laughs dryly.
“Seriously Jeno, you’re like... My only friend.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t say that. You have everyone.”
“Yeah, but you’re my favourite.” Comes his sing-song voice. “Not sure why though.”
He shoves Jaemin lightly. “Seriously. You mean that?”
“Of course, I do. I never say things I don’t mean.”
“You’re the fakest person I know.”
Jaemin pushes air to his teeth. It shouldn’t be attractive. “Yeah, but I’m always real with you... That’s why you’re my favourite.”
“Honest?”
He looks at Jeno again. “Why are you pushing this so much?”
Jeno sinks into his seat, embarrassed. “I don’t know, I mean, I just want everything to stay the same always.”
“Nothin’s gonna change. It just won’t”
“It will though, and we won’t even realise until it’s too late.”
“Maybe change is good.”
“Maybe. Maybe staying the same is bad.”
“See? Forward thinking my boy, I like it.”
Jaemin’s smile is teasing and Jeno feels that same heat at the pit of his stomach. He feels like he needs air. “Smoke?”
“Smoke.” Jaemin agrees. “Thank God.”
They both hop out, backs leaning against the metal of Jeno’s car.
He can feel every blade of dead grass on his legs, the spaces between his socks and his shorts, he can feel the windless American sky and every inch of shortening freedom that only comes at seventeen.
He can feel the warm cigarette between his fingers and the gentle curl of smoke at his lips as he exhales. He tilts his head back upward, eyes shut. The lavender clouds stretch everywhere all at once, all of a sudden.
He feels Jaemin’s own slip onto his shoulder.
Jaemin’s head isn’t like Yeeun’s. It’s not like any girls’, his hair is shorter, and it tickles his collarbones.
“I really wanna kiss you.” He finds himself murmuring.
“Yeah?” Jaemin asks sleepily.
He lifts Jaemins head with one of his hands and he’s so scared to hold it. Something so fleeting and fragile, like cradling a small bird between his blunt terrible fingers.
Please don’t get hurt. Please don’t get hurt. You’re so much better than me.
He kisses him, and the feeling of Jaemin on his lips is so much better than any promises school or his future could possibly bring him.
He can feel Jaemin’s smile, and as he moves back for air, Jaemin takes a drag, blowing smoke up into a dusky cloud.
He pulls his knees up into his chest and draws them in close. He loves to look at Jaemin being himself, it’s like he’s uncovered gold, watching some unforeseen special creature in its own world. He’s happy to standby and be close. This is as close as he’ll ever get to being properly inside Jaemin’s weird wonderful world.
Jaemin spares him a glance. “What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing.”
Jaemin won’t stop looking at him. “Somehow I don’t believe that.”
He yawns. “The day you accept that I really do think about nothing, is the day you’ll know peace.”
“Guess I’ll forever be troubled.”
“That’s called obsession.”
“Or maybe it’s just love.” he smiles and Jeno turns away, groaning.
“Shut up.”
Jaemin’s laughter is like stars falling from the sky, Jeno’s own personal cloud of sparks. He wonders how Jaemin manages to light up every room they’re not even in.
Nothing’s gonna change
Change the way he feels.