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Renjun’s first thought while meeting little Park Jisung is that, well, he’s not that bad.

Which would be a weird conclusion to draw about a three-year-old, except the babysitting ad put out by his parents had been slightly…weird. (“Something’s off,” as Donghyuck had said.) (“Sus vibes”—that one was his boyfriend, Mark.)

BABYSITTER NEEDED

Looking for a full-time babysitter to care for our lovable three-year-old son from early mornings till mid afternoon, Monday to Fridays, with availability for some evenings and weekends depending on our schedules. Our son is lovable, smart, and sweet. That being said, we’re looking for a uniquely patient sitter with plenty of experience dealing with difficult and complicated behaviors…Local students encouraged!

“Hi, Jisung,” Renjun says after introducing himself to the parents. He does his best little-kids-love-me wave.

The three-year-old in question, who is sitting between his parents on the couch and fidgeting with his fingers, just looks at him.

“How soon can you start?” Mrs. Park asks.

“Uh,” Renjun says eloquently. So much for what’s your experience, have you worked with toddlers before…you know, the normal interview questions. “My semester begins next week, but I’m only taking night classes while I complete my thesis. So, like, as soon as you need me…?”

“You’re hired!” Mr. Park says.

The look on Renjun’s face must be ridiculously skeptical, because they backtrack quickly.

“Well, your resume’s perfect,” Mrs. Park says, “and you’ve babysat for years, and your references are good. And it’s an added bonus that you speak another language, because we’re hoping to enroll Sungie in language classes once he’s old enough for pre-school so maybe he’ll take an interest in Mandarin.”

“I see,” Renjun says carefully. While his mother talked, Jisung had slowly been retreating behind her, more and more of his little body disappearing behind her own.

“And, well.” The father laughs awkwardly. “We’ve had a bit of a hard time finding a good match for him.”

“You mean he’s chased all the other sitters away?” Renjun raises an eyebrow and grabs his tote bag, ready to flee. As a long-time babysitter, he’s well aware what that means. And it wasn’t worth it. He’d heard the horror stories, and had a fair share of his own: kids that pulled out hair and called the cops for fun, drinking Windex and munching on chair legs.

“No, no,” Jisung’s mom says quickly. Nervously. “It’s more the other way round. You see, Jisungie’s a very quiet kid.”

“Very quiet,” her husband punctuates.

The kid in question is barely visible now, just a tiny head and bowl cut poking out from under the mother’s arm.

“We tried putting him in a daycare, but he had trouble making friends with the other kids.”

“And he has a hard time opening up to people in general, so we never know if a sitter is going to work out without a bit of a… trial period.”

“But don’t worry,” Mr. Park adds, pulling a folded up piece of paper from his pocket. “We have a list.”

“A list?” Renjun echoes.

The list—

Jisung’s Likes:

Family

Dancing

Controlled environments

Listening to music quietly

Jisung’s Dislikes:

Bugs

Oysters

Peek-a-boo

Loud noises

Jump scares

Surprises in general

Instances of secondhand embarrassment (including those depicted in cartoons)

Talking to people

Making eye contact with people

Meeting new people

Other children

Adults

Renjun stops reading. He gets the point.

“So, are you in?” The parents say hopefully. At this point all Renjun can see of Jisung is a single eye. Which looks away when Renjun’s gaze meets it.

Renjun considers. The parents were offering almost three times the normal rate for their area, which, yeah, sus vibes, but also, Renjun was a normal grad student: he was broke, and he liked money. And he really needed to get his work situation sorted before the semester started. So what the kid was a bit shy? He’d dealt with worse. Maybe shy could be good, even. After all, the reason he’d started babysitting during his freshman year of college anyway was because it was one of the few jobs where it was acceptable to do homework while on the clock. Surely shy was better than the kids who vehemently refused their naps and spent all day tugging on his shirts and begging to watch Dino ABC.

So he says, “Sure. I’m excited to get to know him.”

How bad could it be?

“Really bad,” Renjun moans into the phone. “I can’t believe I fucking lost him. I’ve been here two minutes.”

Okay, fine, it’d been ten minutes. Long enough for the Parks to make pleasant conversation, show him the copy of the list on the fridge, and give him the emergency numbers before kissing their son goodbye and leaving for work. Renjun had looked away for a total of fifteen seconds to add the emergency numbers into his phone. When he looked back, Jisung, who had been sitting patiently on the couch while his parents were leaving, was gone.

And Renjun can’t find him anywhere. He was used to impromptu games of hide and seek, but Jisung hadn’t answered to his name at all, even when Renjun made a big show of pretending to give up looking for him. He was beginning to panic. What if Jisung had slipped through the front door unnoticed as his parents left? What if he had gotten one of the windows open and run away?

“Someone definitely would have noticed if he just ran out the front door,” Donghyuck says. “And didn’t you say all the windows have child safety locks?”

“Oh yeah,” Renjun says. “True.”

“Just stay calm and keep looking. He’s three. It’s not like he can outsmart you.”

“You’re right, I think I’m just freaking out because it’s the first day.” Renjun sighs. “Thanks. Look at you, being helpful.”

“I’m always helpful,” Donghyuck answers. “Did you check the washing machine? You should check the washing machine. I read an article about a kid who got stuck in one and it started and they almost drowned.”

Renjun frowns. “That’s significantly less helpful.”

“Or the dishwasher.”

“Even less helpful.”

“Or the garage, ooo, I heard that sometimes kids sneak into parked cars and try to drive them out of the house—”

“Bye, Donghyuck.”

Renjun puts down his phone and begins his search again, promising himself that if he can’t find Jisung in the next fifteen minutes, he’ll give up and just call his parents, getting fired for incompetency be damned. Jisung’s safety was the most important thing.

He’s methodical this time, working his way through the house room by room, checking even unlikely spots like the kitchen pantry and, yes, the washing machine. The layout of the house is simple enough, a quaint four-bedroom—the master, Jisung’s room, and two guest rooms, Renjun figures. The Parks seem pretty well off, with a state-of-the-art home tech system and furniture that was all high quality and ornate. There were, oddly, very few signs that a toddler lived here. No crayon masterpieces on the fridge, and the chest of toys in the living room seems like it’s barely touched. Even Jisung’s room was plain, pale yellow and neutrally decorated, a strange departure from the typical sensory overload of other baby rooms.

Jisung is not anywhere in the kitchen or the living room. (Nor the garage.)

“Jisung,” Renjun calls into the ether. “It’s just me, Renjun, your new… friend.”—he edits, in case the babysitter title alienates Jisung further.

He’s not in the bathroom either, not under the sink or hiding behind the shower curtain. “We met last week, remember? When your mommy and daddy were here? I promise I just wanna get to know you better!”

Renjun hesitates at the door to the master bedroom, which had been off-limits to him in other houses. The Parks had said he’s free to roam around anywhere Jisung goes, but still… he pivots and heads into one of the guest rooms first, crouching down to look under the bed.

“If you come out,” he calls, “Maybe we can play some games together—”

Somewhere in the room, a door opens. Renjun gasps, bumping his head on the bed frame in his haste to grab Jisung before he can disappear again.

But when he stands up, the man standing in the doorway of the bathroom attached to the guest room—which Renjun is now realizing is probably not a guest room—is definitely not Jisung. He’s, well, a man. A man around Renjun’s age, with pink hair that’s growing out at the roots, damp from a shower. And he’s completely naked and wet except for a towel slung around his hips.

“Hi,” he says to Renjun. He smiles, a wide thing with too many teeth, a creature of its own that screams danger. Or at the very least, mischief. “I’ve been out for years already, but I do like games. Since you’re offering.”

Renjun coughs, flustered, and totally not looking at the little divots in the guy’s hips or how his shoulder width was like twice the size of Renjun’s own. “What? I wasn’t offering you—wait, who the fuck are you?”

“Someone who actually lives here. Who are you?”

“Renjun,” Renjun says automatically. “I mean, I’m the babysitter. Jisung’s babysitter? The kid who lives here. Do you know him?”

“Do I know…the kid who lives…where I also live..?”

Renjun takes a long, grounding inhale. Then a longer, more grounding, exhale. “Do you know where he is?”

Pink Hair shrugs. “Did you check the washing machine?”

Renjun is out of calming breaths. He grits his teeth. “YesIcheckedthewashingmachine.”

“What about the closet in the master bedroom? That’s one of his favorite spots.”

Renjun turns on his heel and leaves the room, not offering a second (fine, third) glance to the other man, who is laughing to himself behind him.

It’s completely dark in the master bedroom’s walk-in closet, which is full of professional clothing and smells vaguely of expensive perfume and cologne. Renjun can just make out a box of photo albums on one of the shelves: Wedding Reception. Jisung’s First Photo Album. Jaemin’s First Photo Album. Jaemin’s Elementary School Adventure. Jaemin Takes Middle School, etc.

Renjun flicks the light on and is rewarded with a startled little yelp. He sighs in relief. “Is that you, Jisung? You can come out now.”

No response.

“If you don’t come out, I’m gonna come in and get you…”

Still nothing. Renjun sighs.

He checks each of the shelves and peers behind the hangers of blazers and dresses. If Jisung hadn’t given himself away already, he’d think there was no one in here at all, tiny baby body or not. The closet’s not that big. Finally, he gets on his tip toes and checks the top shelf, and there, just beyond a pile of folded sweaters—a tiny tuft of dark hair. Renjun pokes it gently. Another yelp.

He removes the sweaters. “There you are.”

Jisung doesn’t answer him. He’s buried in one of the sweaters, which is several sizes too big on him, and curled up into a ball. There’s no ladder or even a step stool, and Renjun doesn’t even want to begin to guess how the toddler got up there. Whatever it was, it was probably in violation of several of Renjun’s babysitting safety hazards.

“Are you hiding from me?” he tries again.

A tiny shrug, just an almost imperceptible lift of Jisung’s shoulders.

“Aw no,” Renjun coos. “What if you came out of there and we got to know each other a little? We could watch some TV? Or do some arts and crafts?”

An even tinier head shake.

“What if—?” Renjun reaches forward, meaning to pick the kid up and tug him down, but Jisung’s whole body stiffens and he moves deeper into the wall like he’s trying to become one with it. Renjun pulls his hands back, raising them palms forward in the universal sign of surrender. “Okay, okay. So you’re just gonna stay up here all day?”

A nod.

Renjun sighs. There’s a small makeup vanity in the corner of the bedroom. He supposes he can bring his laptop in here and get started on his readings… but when he pitches this idea to Jisung, he gets yet another head shake.

“You want me to leave you alone?” Renjun confirms. “Seems pretty boring.”

Jisung doesn’t seem to mind.

It’s probably bad babysitting etiquette, you know, letting the kid you’re supposed to be watching watch himself while burrowed on the top shelf of a closet, but frankly, Renjun’s tired. It’s not even nine am and he’s already had to deal with a mild panic attack (vaguely annoying,) a phone call with Lee Donghyuck (slightly more annoying,) and walking in on a naked man (?)

“Well, I’m gonna have to come get you at lunchtime,” Renjun says. “I can’t let you starve.”

No answer. A tiny hand peeks out from beneath the hem of Jisung’s too-big sweater, and he slowly shifts the pile of clothes back until they’re blocking his face from view again. Jeez.

“Well, will you at least tell me who the guy with the pink hair is? Is that your hyung, Jisungie? Jaemin?”

Jisung—and this is gonna really shock you—doesn’t answer. Renjun sighs. He goes and looks in the garage until he finds a step stool suitable enough for a small child and places it in front of the closet, just in case Jisung decides to come out early. Surely the kid’s gotta pee, right? Then he leaves Jisung alone till lunchtime, as promised.

By the time he leaves the master bedroom the pink-haired guy is gone (not Jisung-gone, like, actually gone—Renjun knocks on the bedroom door a few times to be sure.) There’s no further evidence of him except for a cereal bowl that’s been placed in the sink and a pot of coffee that’s been brewed.

Renjun pours himself a mug and busies himself with entering the syllabi of his class schedules into his calendar and signing up for workshops and activities for the semester. It’s noon before he knows it, and this time when he goes back into the closet Jisung ignores him completely. Renjun gets so desperate that he brings a bowl of Kraft mac and cheese and chicken nuggets into the closet, wafting the air towards the general direction of Jisung’s cute button nose until he hears his little stomach growl.

“See?” Renjun says, only a little guiltily. “You are hungry. Well, this yummy food is gonna be on the dining table… you know, if you end up wanting it.”

He goes back into the kitchen and pretends not to notice when Jisung scurries past him to grab a chicken nugget from the bowl, which he chews quietly while sitting under a dining table chair. He ends up finishing all the chicken, about half the plate, in addition to picking at a handful of grapes Renjun has rinsed and left beside the food. Not a terrible lunch for a kid his age, and Renjun figures he probably likes mac and cheese, and just doesn’t want to have to use a fork, which would require him to, you know, sit at the table normally.

The problem is that he runs away if Renjun even looks in his direction, so Renjun has to feign indifference for about two hours while Jisung periodically scurries back under the table to chump on a chicken nugget like some sort of house pet.

Renjun sets out some snacks for him, too, and they go on like this until four, when Jisung’s mom gets home.

“How was he?” She asks nervously.

“Uh…he…ate well?” Renjun says. There’s really nothing else to say.

“He ate!” She sounds surprised. “Oh, good, he must really like you!”

Which is not how Renjun would have put it, but sure. “And now he’s…in your closet.”

She smiles. “Yes, he does that. So, will you be back tomorrow?”

Renjun looks at the relieved and hopeful expression across her face, which is really just an older version of Jisung’s own. He thinks of Jisung’s anxious little pout. (He also thinks of Jaemin.) So what else is he to say but, “Of course.”

Renjun completes his first week of babysitting Jisung on Friday without further incident.

That is to say, Jisung had continued to hide from him for the better part of every single day—in a new spot, no less. But technically he didn’t lose the toddler again. And, he didn’t bump into any more naked men. So he’s counting it as a win.

“How naked was he, though?” Donghyuck asks that evening. They’re tucked into their usual booth at a bar close to campus, exactly one shot of tequila deep each and nursing warm beers.“Like could you see any pubes?”

Beside him, Mark, Haechan’s new cute-Canadian-international-student-in-my-lit-class quickly turned embarrassingly-whipped-boyfriend, splutters, blushing. “Babe.”

Despite Renjun’s vague but perpetual annoyance at the fact that Donghyuck has brought Mark to yet another of their best friend debriefs (or, more likely, Mark has trailed him here like a lost puppy,) he has to agree. “Don’t talk about pubic hair while we’re out in public,” Renjun snaps. “The extent of his nakedness is so not the point.”

Donghyuck ignores them both, pulling out his phone and opening Instagram. “You said he had pink hair, right? If he’s our age and lives around here, we’ve gotta know someone who knows him. Maybe he’s a student, too. Mark, start looking through your mutuals.”

Mark instantly opens his phone and begins obediently inspecting each tiny bubble on his following list for pink hair, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. One day, Renjun will get Donghyuck to admit to whatever witchcraft spell he had Mark under. It can’t be Donghyuck’s dick game (Renjun’s had it; it’s not all that.)

“His last name is Park,” Renjun offers. “I think. Jisung won’t confirm whether or not he has an older brother. And they don’t look that much alike, but also, Jisung’s three. Maybe he’s still growing into his looks?”

“He also doesn’t have pink hair,” Mark says helpfully.

“Or maybe he’s the dad’s mistress,” Donghyuck adds.

Renjun frowns. The Parks had their eccentricities, but he doubted they’d be housing a weirdo where their son lives. “Yeah, no.”

“Come on, you don’t think it’s weird that they’d forget to mention a whole other grown man living in the house while they were showing you around?” Donghyuck says.

“They’re a bit…” Renjun considers the desperate Park couple as they rushed to work each morning. “I think they have their hands full with Jisung.”

“I wish Chenle hid from me,” Donghyuck says wistfully. “I fell asleep while we were watching Doc Mcstuffins on Wednesday and he literally cut a piece of my hair off. With baby safety scissors. Do you know how hard it is to do that? Damn kid is trying to fuck with my money maker.”

Mark pats the back of Donghyuck nape comfortingly, which Renjun assumes is the area where the lock in question has been pilfered from. “Babe, you still look like, perfect.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Donghyuck says, batting him away, rolling his eyes. It’s only because of a decade of friendship that Renjun can detect the tiny but pleased curve at the corner of his little mouth.

“Any luck?” Renjun asks.

Donghyuck sighs, putting his phone down. “The only person I follow with pink hair is a girl. Mark?”

A head shake. “Sorry. There’s not a single Jaemin Park in any of my mutual’s following lists.”

“Well, If Mr. Joins Every Club On Campus can’t find him…”

Renjun orders another round of shots for the table. He’ll deal with this next week.

Next week comes. On Monday, he has a plan.

He makes sure to keep a grip on the hood of Jisung’s little pullover as his parents leave in the morning, so when they shut the door, he can’t disappear.

“Oh no you don’t,” he hisses when Jisung starts trying to wriggle out of the hoodie. “You and I are turning over a new leaf today, understand?”

Jisung blinks up at him in an expression that says he doesn’t.

“We’re actually gonna hang out today, okay?” Renjun clarifies, loosening his grip. “We’re gonna play some games and read some books and I’m gonna teach you how to count to ten in Chinese like your parents are paying me to. Sound good?”

Jisung continues blinking at him. But he’s no longer wriggling, so Renjun accepts this as a yes. He lets the kid go, turns around to lock the front door. “If you want, we can watch a cartoon—Jesus fucking Christ.”

When he turns around, Jisung is gone. Of course. Rookie mistake.

Renjun groans, and heads into the kitchen. He was prepared for Plan A failing. At least Plan B—bribery via snacks—is still foolproof.

He was not prepared for whatever this is, though. This? The man—another, completely different yet equally as sexy man—who is sitting at the kitchen counter and eating a goddamn banana, because why wouldn’t he be?

“Who are you?” Renjun whines.

The man in question startles with a yelp that’s worthy of Jisung. “You—” He clears his throat. “You scared the shit out of me, oh my god. Hi. I’m Jeno. You must be the new nanny, right?”

“Babysitter,” Renjun huffs. Why is he the only one who ever seems out of the loop here? “Do you live here, too?”

“What? No.” Jeno laughs. “I’m Jaemin’s friend.”

“Jaemin..?”

Jeno frowns. “Pink hair? Jisung’s brother? He told me you guys met…”

“We did.” This is another voice—the Jaemin in question is standing in the doorway of the kitchen, holding a squirming Jisung beneath in the crook of one arm. “Hi again. I have your…” He shakes Jisung with his hip. “Your charge.”

“No!” Jisung shouts. “I don’t wanna play with him!”

Renjun gapes at the noise, which is tiny, but still, a noise. He was beginning to think Jisung was one of those largely nonverbal toddlers, which would totally be cool, except he isn’t. “He talks?”

“All the time,” Jaemin answers, because upon this being acknowledged Jisung promptly purses his lips in protest. “You just gotta annoy him enough. See?”

He shakes Jisung around some more, until the poor toddler yelps again, “Stop it!”

Renjun hurries to take Jisung from Jaemin’s (big, strong) arms, worried about shaken baby syndrome, which he’s pretty sure is only a risk for newborns, but still.

“I can’t believe you talk,” he says when Jisung’s securely in his arms—and when Jaemin, who smells like a smooth citrus cologne and clean boy has stepped back again. “I thought we agreed we were gonna hang out today?”

Jisung resolutely shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jeno says kindly. His banana peel has gone in the trash, and he’s procured a messenger bag from somewhere. “He doesn’t say much to me either and I’ve known him since, like, birth.”

“Nah,” Jaemin smiles, and it’s that same smile from before—danger, mischief. “Renjun’s special, can’t you tell?”

Renjun doesn’t answer. Frankly, he’s worried that the kind of noise that will come out of his mouth if he tries will be inappropriate for children’s ears. Instead, he busies himself with strapping Jisung into a high chair and procuring a pile of picture books. When he turns back to the kitchen, Jeno and Jaemin are headed for the door, arms wrapped casually around each other. Jeno offers a peace sign, to which Jisung tinily makes one back. Traitor. Jaemin winks at him. Renjun—pointedly—does not fucking notice.

“Mark found Pink Hair on Instagram,” Dounghyuck announces. He’s whispering into the phone, because it’s supposedly Chenle’s nap time. Except Renjun can hear Chenle chattering away in the background. “His name is Na Jaemin, he’s a photography MFA, and he’s in the Leos on Campus Facebook group.”

“There’s a Leos on… never mind,” Renjun groans. “It’s over. He has a boyfriend, anyway.”

“Since when have you cared about that?”

“This is my fuck—” Renjun looks over to where Jisung is watching Dino ABC in the living room (they’ve come to a tentative agreement; Renjun will engage with him as little as possible as long as Jisung stays in his line of sight.) “This is my freaking place of work. I refuse to start a mess here.”

“What happened to the drama in this friendship?” Donghyuck mutters. “There hasn’t been good tea for weeks. Do I need to break up with Mark again?”

Renjun rolls his eyes. As if. “You know he’d throw up if he heard you say that, right?”

Donghyuck ignores him. “Anyway, you should bring Jisung to the park to hang with Chenle this week. Maybe he just needs a friend to bring him out of the shell.”

Renjun looks over to where Jisung is currently slipping into the divot between two couch cushions and thinks about the cute but spoiled rich kid Donghyuck babysits. Renjun’s only met Chenle a couple of times, when he’d filled in while Donghyuck had the flu last year. But he knew enough to know that Chenle was a rambunctious, inquisitive toddler who never stopped talking.

Jisung catches him looking over and—literally—yelps at the eye contact, burrowing further into the couch. Renjun sighs. “He may not be ready for that quite yet.”

“Then just do what I do,” Donghyuck says. “The three T’s approach is foolproof.”

“Talk, Teach, and Tolerate?”

“Threaten, Torture, and Time-out.”

Renjun sighs. “Thanks, Hyuck. That’s really helpful.”

“Hey, it works on Lele.”

“Something’s telling me Jisung might need a… gentler approach.”

“Zhong Chenle, if you break another iPad so help me god—” Donghyuck coughs. “Uh, Renjun, can I call you back?”

The next day, Renjun bundles Jisung into a coat and cute little hat with teddy ears on it. They’re about to start walking to the park when a car pulls up into the driveway. Jaemin is driving, and Jeno’s in the passenger seat. “Hop in!”

Renjun hesitates. The Parks have given him permission to use their spare car in case he needs to take Jisung for any errands, but something about getting into their older son’s car seems like an infringement of his work policies.

“Come on, it’s cold,” Jaemin tempts.

“We might stay a while,” Renjun warns. He hefts Jisung higher on his hip. “This kid needs a lot of fresh air.”

“Well, we like the park,” Jaemin answers. “It’s been a while since we let Jeno out for some fetch.”

“Hey!” Jeno pouts.

But they hook up a car seat into the back of the car and accept the ride.

At the park, Mark is there, because of course he is.

“Didn’t you get fired from your last job for bringing your boyfriend to playdates?” Renjun asks.

“That entire family had a stick up their asses, including their tattle tale ass kid.” Donghyuck rolls his eyes, propelling Chenle forward with a nudge of his foot. “Look Lele, that’s Jisung. He’s Renjun’s friend, remember Renjun hyung? So you can be friends with Jisung too, okay? Play nice.”

Renjun sets Jisung on the ground. “If you run away here,” he warns, “So help me God, I will—you will—I’ll think of something really bad. I mean it.”

Except he doesn’t really have to worry about it, because Jisung doesn’t move an inch, clinging to his leg.

“Oh now you like me,” Renjun mutters. He bends until he’s at Jisung’s level. “Hey, it’s okay. Chenle is a good boy.” Which is only kind of a lie.

“So you’re Pink Hair.” Donghyuck says above him. “So much for not bringing boyfriends to playdates.”

“Aw, did Renjunnie give me a nickname?” Jaemin coos.

“I’m Mark,” Mark offers.

Jaemin squints. “Leos on Campus?”

“Dude,” Mark says. “Yeah! Bring it in, man.”

Renjun doesn’t really look at any of them, still kneeling and too focused on keeping an eye on Jisung, who is tentatively following Chenle to the slides.

“And you must be Jeno,” Donghyuck continues. “Are you two fucking raw, or something?”

“Chenle’s ears!” Mark tuts.

“What?” Jeno squeaks. “No. Jaemin’s like, a family friend.”

“Good,” Donghyucks says.

“Good for who?” Jaemin asks.

“For Renjun,” Jeno concludes. “Obviously.”

“Oh my god,” Renjun says, standing up. This is getting to be too much. “All of you, for the love of god, stop.”

“So, you live around here?” Jaemin asks him.

“Oh my god,” Renjun repeats. “Is that a line?”

Suddenly, Donghyuck gasps. “Zhong Chenle play nice!”

Renjun looks over just in time to see Jisung tumble to the ground.

Outing unsuccessful.

Okay, so Jisung only fell like, one foot, and Chenle had apologized, even if he was still claiming innocence, crying that, “Well, Jisung kept ignoring me!”

He’s lucky he’s a cute kid. And even luckier that Jisung had uncharacteristically responded to his apology with an adorable little, “It’s okay Lele.” And even a little hug.

And technically, as Donghyuck said, kids fall all the time. “Chenle literally tumbled down two flights of stairs last week and he’s completely fine. Mostly fine. And besides, they’re kind of friends now.”

Renjun doesn’t care. The playdate’s over after that, and he demands that Jaemin bring them home.

“You should give me your number,” Jaemin says casually, meeting Renjun’s eyes in the rearview mirror. He’s totally unphased by Jisung’s incessant sobbing in the backseat, which shouldn’t be hot but is. In the passenger seat, Jeno is starting to look kind of nauseous. “You know, in case you guys need a ride again.”

By all accounts. Outing unsuccessful.

But Renjun gets Jaemin’s number. So.

The thing is, Jaemin’s easy. Renjun can tell. He’s one of those guys that looks like he wouldn't be, but Renjun has a sixth sense for knowing when he can make a man crumble with the right type of pout. He could totally make Jaemin crumble with the right type of pout. He’s not going to, because that would be super unprofessional. But.

“Stepbrother,” Jaemin explains one afternoon. His hair is fading to a duller pastel. His eyes are sparkly. Renjun totally cannot hook up with him during Jisung’s nap time that would be sooo wrong and horrible and Renjun won’t, he won’t. But they do talk. “My mom got remarried to Jisung’s dad when I was in undergrad.”

“Cool,” Renjun says. He’s trying to hardest to focus on his laptop screen, where the Google document that is supposed to be his graduating thesis has literally two sentences.

“So, like are you busy right now?”

“Seriously? Is that another line?”

“Are you?”

“I’m on the clock,” Renjun says, exasperated. “I am literally taking care of your little brother.”

“My little brother thinks we’d be cute together,” Jaemin says casually. “By the way.”

“He didn’t say that.”

“He did. I told you, he talks a lot more when it’s just family around.”

“Well, I’m not interested.”

“Okay,” Jaemin says. He leans against the counter to look at Renjun’s screen. Another wide smile.

Aries and Leo couple, the website claims, when really in love, are very faithful to each other. Their mantra of love is ‘you before me’ and it stays intact even when they find themselves between the sheets. They try to show each other their best moves and they don’t force themselves into doing it. The Aries and Leo, since they are open about their feelings, thus evolve themselves as a passionate, enthusiastic and secure couple. The couple together brews a sexual relationship that can't be faded or interpreted.

Renjun pauses in his reading when he feels a little hand on his arm.

“What is it?” Jisung asks, climbing onto the chair to peering at Renjun’s phone screen.

“What?” Renjun asks, surprised. Though Jisung has been more willing to talk to him lately, it was still rare. “Uh, it’s big people stuff. Reading.”

“No, that.” Jisung points at the cute little constellation drawings at the bottom of the article page.

“It’s just the page design. It’s an astrology app—” That’s probably too big for his brain. “Uh, it shows the stars and stuff.”

“Stars,” Jisung repeats curiously. He holds out his hand for the phone, and Renjun is so struck by his show of curiosity that he just hands it over.

It’s one of the rare Friday nights that Mr. and Mrs. Park pay Renjun overtime so they can go out to dinner. So he brings Jisung to an observatory.

“Very romantic,” Jaemin says when they get off the elevator. Oh yeah, Jaemin’s there. You know, because they needed a ride.

Jisung gasps. He pounds at Jaemin’s chest until he sets him down, running into the middle of the room. It’s just the tiny little observatory at their college, nothing special. But it’s a clear night, and they have the room to themselves—people have better things to do on a Friday night, Renjun figures. It’s not particularly special from his perspective, just a top-floor room with cool curved windows instead of a ceiling.

But Jisung is running straight to the center of the room, twirling around with his head tilted up. “Wow!”

Renjun grabs him by the tiny shoulders, laughing. “Here, baby, why don’t you try the microscope.”

“Microscope?” Jisung repeats, half the consonants missing. He has like, most of his teeth.

“Come on.” They set Jisung up behind the kiddie scope, watching for a while as he oohs and ahs.

“This was a good idea,” Jaemin says.

“Yeah, well, I’m full of them,” Renjun quips. He is, in fact, not.

Jaemin’s right. If you can ignore the excited toddler noises, it is kinda romantic. Dark and quiet, under a canopy of pretty stars.

“That one reminds me of you,” Jaemin says, pointing. “Of us.”

Renjun squints. He can barely see anything.

“It’s Perseus and Andromeda. You know, they were star-crossed lovers. Literally,” Jaemin adds, sweetly.

“Didn’t she only get with him because she had no choice and was literally going to be eaten by a sea monster if she said no?” Renjun asks, just as sweetly.

“Ignore that part,” Jaemin huffs. “Think about the part where they were happily in love for so many years that the gods placed them in the sky to be together forever.”

“Did you look that up?” Renjun says. His hands are clammy. His heart is fluttering. He is trying to ignore the fact that the hottest guy he’s ever met just said the words together forever to him and was, like, deadass. “You’re so fucking annoying.”

“You like it.”

Renjun does.

He’s leaning in.

They’re kissing. It’s slow, and frustratingly saccharine, considering the first time that they met each other one of them was naked and Renjun’s been waking up in cold sweats about it for weeks. One of Jaemin’s hands is steady at the base of his neck, the other is holding Renjun’s waist, oh so tenderly. Renjun’s own hands are wrapped around Jaemin’s arms and shoulders, because, duh.

Then, suddenly, they break apart when they hear a gasping hiccup. Fuck, Renjun’s on the clock.

He whips around, ready to apologize to the probably traumatized toddler, except, Jisung’s not even looking at them, he’s pointing towards the sky with one thumb in his mouth and tear tracks running down his face.

“Aw, baby,” Renjun says, picking up the child in one now-familiar swoop. “What is it, hm?”

“They’re so…pretty,” Jisung sobs. “It’s perfect!”

“Oh.” Renjun laughs. “Oh, you sweet child.”

(And then he knees Jaemin in the crotch, before he can say some sappy shit like yeah, it really is.)

(But, yeah. It really is.)