Work Text:
It's snowing.
Renjun can already fathom the cold beyond his blanket as it creeps into his bones, making him toss and turn in his bed. He should have set the heater higher … but the energy costs …
He groans into the pillow. He can already fathom Chenle's voice, mentioning something about clear moon, frost soon and how he could have known before if he paid attention to anything that happens on the outside. Jisung would probably back him up with a solemn nod.
Perhaps, he should just visit Chenle and let the I told you so rain over him; at least then he isn't the one to pay the heating bill. And he could try that famed ramyeon recipe that Jisung has been fawning over. He knows his mother won't be happy, ever-nagging her son for practically only eating ramyeon, day-in, day-out, but hey! It's simple, it tastes good and keeps him alive, so what really does he want more? Besides, he won't ever get bored since variations exist-
He sighs, a smile grazing his face.
Though he can't deny he sometimes misses the exquisite dishes - the fine dining experience - whenever he was allowed to, whenever he watched his weight, now there is a certain freedom that comes with something as simple as eating whatever he wants. His options may be limited since he only recently started to cook for himself, but it's nothing he would change now.
The problem with the crawling chilliness of his lacklustre apartment, though …
Heaving himself out of bed, Renjun goes through the motions - brush his teeth, change clothes, space off, stare longingly at his bed, and approach the door at last. Stare at it dumbfounded, remember to pack a few things in a bag, take said bag with him, back to the door. Check if he took the keys - he almost forgot - and unlock the door. Take a deep breath, calm the nerves, and out into the corridor he goes.
Close the door, lock the door, go down the stairs to the house door. Feel paralysed in front of it, another deep breath, and outwards he pushes.
It's snowing.
Still, his body feels like it's on fire, panicked as the winter sun grazes his face out from the darkness of the building - like warming stage lights, the camera … he gulps.
But, this is no more. He can relax.
There are no eyes on him here. Seoul continues to pulsate, and he's just another passenger on the way to somewhere.
He breathes out.
-----
There is quite literally no joy to be had whilst stampeding and waltzing through the wintery landscape of the big city - though the snow looks rather pretty a few steps above, its grey and brown masses on the ground leave much to be desired. Renjun feels his shoes getting soaked here and now and he tries to avoid stomping right into a snowpile as he traverses the street.
(Or perhaps, he should just … step right into one. Just, for fun. Nobody will watch him, right?)
(... or maybe everyone would.)
The daylight is irritating him as he walks, head held high - then down - then high again, in an ever-curious dance with himself as his eyes flicker from one place to another. No streamlined vision to accompany him, nobody to tell him on what to focus - should he look this way, or that? An eerie realisation that it's his choice now.
It makes him catch onto the most random things, turning the fifteen-minutes-walk to Chenle's apartment into something that probably lasts over half an hour now, despite the fact that he starts to freeze.
And yet, Renjun can't quite get himself to speed up. It's not snowing anymore, only small flakes landing here and there, practically inviting him to stay out just a little longer, within the city that feels familiar in the sense that all big cities do, and unfamiliar in the sense that every place does.
Only few ever managed to wretch out that wicked, cherished feeling of home - but it has no use thinking about it now.
Maybe he should give Chenle a heads-up before arriving at his doorstep. Maybe he doesn't even have ramyeon at home right now (but, why wouldn't he?) (says the one with a shelf full of it). He is contemplating the matter, eyes continuing to flicker around and away - further, further, further - as they catch onto something specific. A … cat?
The chocolate brown fur isn't striking amidst the muddy brown of the snow, but there is something about the watchful eyes that have him halt in his steps and thoughts.
Struck by curiosity, he approaches the mammal of unidentified origin. Is it a street cat? Or did someone let their housecat loose? It watches him with interest as he comes closer, not giving the impression of being fearful, moreso … awaiting, almost.
It flicks its tail lazily from on side to the other. As soon as Renjun is close, though, it begins a stroll into the alley nearby.
It's something typical to every big city - abandoned sideways that reek of unpleasantries, small streets that once might have been populated by more everything, but are now diminished in favour of large parading streets where one can see the endless luxuries of modernity one after the other.
A catwalk for the commoners.
He stares into the dim darkness of the alleyway, and as the cat stops and turns to watch him again, ever-so-inviting to tag along, he … does.
There is no rhyme or reason to it, but then again, there has never been much of that in his life. In ways, the darkness feels familiar - reminiscent of a certain unknown that engulfed him whole.
------
Renjun's steps are careful as he navigates the street, cleaner than he anticipated, as if even the trash fears to be left in this forgotten alley.
There is almost a sense of timelessness, as if none of that ticking clock matters here. He finds himself pausing every now and then to try and read the signs in Hangul, tattered and bruised from a cruel time, never discarded, like a living museum with no visitor but him and a cat as his guide. Rust dominates, with flakes of poster paper as its subjects.
The cat synchronises its steps with him, stop and go whenever he does.
It's a strange thing that almost makes him forget about the wafts of clouds that he produces amidst the cold.
"Aren't you feeling cold?" he once asks into the nothingness, and nothing but a wise look comes back.
"Where are you taking me?" he asks next, a few metres further, and still, the noises of his steps are the only reply he ever receives.
Renjun doesn't think he walked for that long when something catches his eye - it's dimmed from its initial glory much like everything else in this street, but he recognises it immediately. Though it is almost alien now, the immaculately curated make-up and the manicured nails - hair trimmed and styled to perfection, garments picked solely for this occasion. Nowadays, he is little more than an echo of the person plastered onto the wall.
(Or perhaps, he is so much more than the pretty face on the paper rotting away in a forgotten streetway.)
"Did you recognise me and wanted to take me here?" he asks into the void again, a slither of amusement lining a heavy voice, though he doesn't even get a gaze in turn, unable to find the cat's eyes.
How long has it been now? Five years? He still remembers this moment in particular, plans of a tentative expansion towards South Korea - see if he can get ahold here as well, but the plans have been scratched quite quickly as it didn't seem as lucrative. Too much competition with the rising K-idol industry, and not enough devotion dedicated to a foreigner. People weren't falling for him as deeply - perhaps, with the exception of …
He shakes his head. No use in mulling over the what ifs of a different time now.
Still, right in front of him is the ad of a brand that has found a new face by now, though he is surprised this poster here hasn't been removed or plastered over by now. Products that should make you feel beautiful. An ensemble of two bust shots, with the first posing him with a neutral expression - a type of intrigue as he turned his head to the camera ever-so-lightly when it made click - the red a stark eye-catcher, symbolising the passion that simmers throughout - blazes within.
Scene 929 - it's like burning.
He diverts his eyes from the intricately curated composition and walks further. It's followed by a second picture in brighter colours - yellow and brown adorning a contrast that is reminiscent of sunflowers. He remembers - he's been asked what he would want to say to his future self through this moment. A strange kind of question, honestly, though the assistant producer has been just as strange.
The whole world is yours, is the second slogan of the campaign.
Please live happily, is what he wanted to say to himself.
The smile on the faded paper is bright and gentle, looking into the camera with an unknown kind of bliss. Looking at the spectator with a serenity that he wonders - who has he been looking at?
It must have been …
His gaze follows minuscule motions, perhaps it's the cat again - guiding him back.
Instead, a familiar figure comes to view, chocolate brown adorning sun-kissed skin and the epitome of sunshine. Eyes that turn to him in the same moment as Renjun thinks, oh.
It aches.
It drowns.
It flourishes.
It-
"Oh," Donghyuck breathes into existence, gently. "It's you."
-----
Silence permeates the distance between only for so long as Donghyuck's surprise melts into a soft smile, clearly taken aback by the unexpected encounter, though not unpleasantly so.
"It's been quite a long time, hasn't it?" he says - almost whispers, as if every wrong syllable could coerce Renjun to yield and hide away.
Perhaps, that's the truth behind it, too. Perhaps, Donghyuck still knows more about him than he would ever want to admit.
"Well, there was no reason to meet," Renjun retorts with a shrug, wanting to avert his gaze, but doesn't manage to. More quietly, he adds, "and there is still no reason to."
"Ouch, you're wounding me," Donghyuck dramatises. "Would me missing you be reason enough? I'd really like to catch up, if you're free."
He looks like he wants to come closer when Renjun wants to turn tail.
It has always been like this, hasn't it?
Renjun wants to go - turn, go his way, mutter something about how Chenle is waiting for him (he is definitely not, the unfinished text message still sitting behind the blackened screen of his phone) - just, get away from the nightmares and reveries that soar with the image of one.
They haven't even known each other for that long, and still …
"I hope you've been well," Donghyuck says, ever-softly.
"Why would you care? I'm a nobody now," Renjun cuts into his words. "There is nothing to gain from my name, anymore."
He watches how the smile disappears into a light frown, morphing from one emotion to another as Donghyuck so readily wears his feelings on the outermost layers of his skin. He steps one step closer - Renjun doesn't retreat.
"Because I want to catch up with you, not your name," Donghyuck huffs out as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
Perhaps, it's in his world.
Renjun can only stand frozen, gazing at the distant dream that represents Donghyuck's presence in his present.
"Let me invite you to a café or-" Donghyuck continues, halting himself, "… or perhaps not."
Has he noticed how Renjun flinched at the word, the mere idea of spending somewhere public, all eyes on him - yet, nobody is watching?
Still, he tries to keep his head up high, scoffing as he crosses his arms in defiance. "I have to let you know, I was just on my way to enjoy some instant ramyeon, so I'm quite busy-"
He tries not to look into Donghyuck's direction, perhaps in fear of judgement - nobody reacted quite well to his cravings for the dish, except for the duo that has a certain penchant for it as well. But perhaps, that'll be what will eventually deter Donghyuck from trying.
He is not the same Renjun as he met years ago, after all.
He hears a wheeze, followed by a chuckle.
The smile he sees on Donghyuck's face is amused - endeared, almost.
"I should have known that you'd latch onto ramyeon, it's not like you can cook after all," Donghyuck muses, teases him with a smile.
"Ah - well, of course, I can cook, it's just that I don't want to - but, I definitely could," Renjun huffs in turn, feeling how his cheeks heat up, but perhaps it's just the cold winter breeze painting his face a pinker shade. That must be it.
"Of course, of course," Donghyuck hums, "pardon my wrong assumptions. May I invite you over to my humble residence for some ramyeon, then? Please?"
Renjun hasn't noticed how Donghyuck came closer over the course of his words, a search for proximity that contradicts the way he used to get to know him first - a splendid company to have, yet reserved and cautious in his own rights.Perhaps, just as quick as Donghyuck gained his trust, maybe the same can be said vice-versa. It's a strange feeling, after all those years of nothing.
Renjun looks at him, really does, and sighs in defeat.
"… fine, okay," he mutters.
A soft, warm hand soon finds his, a gentle smile blossoming as Donghyuck hums, "really?"
Distance is a foreign parametre, applicable no longer.
"Really."
He feels himself smiling as he's taken away. In the corner of his eye, he sees hues of chocolate brown and lavish gold.
-----
Donghyuck's apartment is eerily close to his own, it makes half of him wonder how they never met before. But perhaps that's reasonably explained with his general nature as a homebody these days, unwilling to leave the house - to do much more than commuting from one home to another.
"Sorry, it's a bit messy, but make yourself comfortable. Are you hungry right now? I can get cooking soon, do you have any wishes? Preferences?" Donghyuck's voice rings through with a myriad of words that only filter slowly through. "Ah, and sorry it's a little cold - I turned off the heater when I went out earlier, but give it a second to warm up again."
"Hm? Yeah … now would be nice, and do whatever you want," Renjun replies slowly as he removes his shoes - feet touching the wooden floor. It's cold as Donghyuck mentioned, though it's nothing he can't deal with for a while.
Donghyuck is already disappearing into some direction as Renjun observes the new environment. Donghyuck's apartment is simple, but tattered with life - photographs, memories, small trinkets from all across the world. Awe strikes his gaze as he slowly lets everything take him over.
It documents a life Renjun hasn't been part of for longer than the blink of an eye. A life he likely won't be part of after today, either.
It evokes jealousy - a longing he tries to keep at bay, but with nothing to contain his own self, he wonders if it spilling over would really be that bad.
"It's really messy," Renjun remarks with a huff as he finds his way to the kitchen, following the many noises Donghyuck is making.
The other only laughs, mirth glistening in his eyes.
"But you like it?" It's a plea, perhaps.
Renjun averts his gaze - mind malfunctioning under the careful observation he's under, and shrugs. "It's very you."
"So you like me?" Another plea.
"I barely know you at this point," Renjun shakes his head, caught between disbelief and amusement.
(But I kind of want to, now more than ever.)
"You'll come around," Donghyuck muses, returning to the stove. Renjun sees chopped cabbage and a few eggs laid out. As if Donghyuck can sense his eyes, he explains, "since you're hungry, I'll keep it simpler, but still tasty, I hope."
"Mh, you better keep your words," Renjun retorts, taking a seat by the small table. It only houses two chairs and he sits down on the one that seems less used.
"Promise," Donghyuck hums as he drops cabbage into the pot with boiling water, adding the sauce powder as well. When he turns around, there is a startled expression on his face - then, a tender gaze.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Like what?" Donghyuck hums.
Renjun gestures to the general area of the other's face. "Like … that." Like you adore me, or something.
It evokes a crystalline laugh out of Donghyuck. "I wonder," he only evades, humming as he returns to the stove - minutes of silence pass before he cracks in a couple of eggs, stirring for a few more moments before he adds the noodles.
It feels surreal to sit in this kitchen, with this person. It's not something Renjun would have ever managed to conjure in his mind, but there is a strange feeling that it also feels … right, in ways. Not quite as if all that happened ultimately led up to this, but that it's perhaps a straw of peace that fate is offering.
Rest now, you did your best.
He feels irrevocably tired.
"So, what have you been up to?" Renjun fights the silence at last, unwilling to doze off in the presence of someone who treads the line between stranger and friend.
Donghyuck hums in reply and begins to tell as he sets the table, divides the ramyeon into the bowls and sits down. He keeps talking between bites and slurps, watching Renjun as he hangs on to his every other word.
Truly, unlike himself, Donghyuck has been to places - met people, did things others could only dream of doing. He helped, just like he helped Renjun back then.
"… and now I'm here," Donghyuck concludes at last, a smile adorning his face - embarrassed, amused and … tired. "Sorry, I didn't mean to monologue for so long. It must have been boring."
Renjun shakes his head, pushing the empty bowl towards the middle of the table. "Nah, I asked, so it's fine, don't apologise. It was fun listening to," he hums in turn.
"Right, you always liked a good story," Donghyuck nods, soft features forming a smile, "glad it wasn't boring then."
At that, Renjun tilts his head a little, wondering, "you must have been through so much, of course your hardships wouldn't be boring. In fact, I applaud you for coming thus far - you finally found Jaemin again, didn't you?"
It's strange, the bright laughter it evokes out of Donghyuck - unfiltered, like the sun shining through glass.
"Mh-hm," he hums, "it's been a long time coming, huh?"
There are more questions that Renjun wants to ask - how he ended up in this small apartment, just a little too spacious for one, and too small for two - and when they eventually reunited, or why they're not living together when Donghyuck has been looking for his 'brother from another mother' for so long, but people never quite stay the same and in this moment, he isn't sure what's okay to ask and what not. He certainly can't say nothing has changed about himself, yet there is an odd sense of familiarity in his presence.
Like all the time in the world passed, and none at all.
"What about you? If you want to tell, that is," he tosses the ball back into Renjun's court.
The air is permeated with the sticky smell of instant ramyeon, that kind of scent that never fades as easily and clings to his pores. The small kitchen also only provides so much air, and it feels stuffed with all windows closed to keep the cold from barging in. It's a strange setting to pour one's heart out, but Renjun figures that Donghyuck already did, too.
"I …" he starts, stops.
Donghyuck gaze is gentle as the bowls clatter - the chair screeches as he stands up to clean up the remnants of their meal.
"You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to," he says. "I'd never force you to."
His gaze is the same as years prior - where Renjun clammed up in fear, unable to know whether or not all his effort would crumble with the extension of trust. But this isn't then, and the fear that griped him back then is no more.
Everything is over.
And he is just … so, so tired.
"Do you really want to listen?" Renjun mutters.
The answer comes with a gentle pat on his head, fingers grazing through his hair. It's warm and familiar, and perhaps, something in Renjun finally shatters.
"Of course, I'm always listening if you want me to."
-----
They relocate to the small living room - the one full of life and everything, that doubles as Donghyuck's workplace and home office, as it seems.
Though Renjun has thought to have gazed over the majority of what the room offers, he's surprised to see that there is much more than meets the eye - more trinkets, more photos, more of everything. A few plants in containers that especially litter the window doors and the balcony. He recognises shrubs, among other kinds of flowers and horticulture that Donghyuck must have amassed over the years.
"I didn't know you were a gardener kind of guy," Renjun hums, crouching down as his eyes are stuck on the red leaves of azalea shrubs.
"There's a lot more I could tell you about me," Donghyuck chuckles as he crouches down next to Renjun. "If you want, I could show you a trick or two - plant care is both easier and harder than you probably think it is."
Renjun turns his gaze to the other, an amused look on his face. "Really now? I couldn't have imagined."
"I can only recommend it, they also make excellent listeners," Donghyuck remarks with mirth.
It makes Renjun shake his head, bumping their shoulders together.
"Why would I need them when I have you now?"
(At least for this moment.)
A beat of silence - before Donghyuck chuckles, returning the light bump of their shoulders. "Yeah, I guess you really hit the jackpot here, didn't you?"
Renjun only shakes his head, shoulders trembling a little with the laughter that threatens to spill - but instead he only hums, directing his gaze back to the red leaves that form such a stark contrast to the snow white beyond. Like a flicker of fire, a soloist on stage.
Eventually, Donghyuck does usher Renjun onto the small couch, nearly pulling up a nearby chair when instead, Renjun pulls him onto the couch also. He almost ends up on Donghyuck's lap, legs entangled in the little space available, though he tries not to pay it too much mind.
"If that's good with you," he mutters, and Donghyuck merely hums.
He almost half-hugs him, Donghyuck's arm loosely cradling him, "whatever works for you."
"And you really listen?"
Donghyuck's features soften as he nods. "My offer from back then still stands, you know. Whatever it is that burdens your heart, if you want to share it …"
There must have been something - hesitation, or another emotion - noticeable within Renjun that has Donghyuck tilting his head, new words filtering through.
"Can I hug you?"
Exasperated noises leave Renjun as he whips his head towards the other, expecting to find mischief and joke, but there is little of that.
Only something incomprehensible to Renjun.
Perhaps, it's akin to the depths of the ocean, something he is far from able to understand - but he still sinks, further and further, into something similar to a tender embrace where all noise becomes meaningless.
He nods.
Donghyuck's arms find their way around him properly now, careful and gentle - yet decisive as he burrows his nose into his shoulder, skin brushing against skin.
Back then, Donghyuck hugged him, too - a little like this, and the words still feel etched on his skin, "you can trust me. I'll listen."
"You know …" Donghyuck starts amidst the rustling silence, with the city a muted, distant reverie, "when you retired from the public eye, I immediately wanted to go look for you. But when I reached your family's home, they said you were already gone. I tried to find you for a while after - it feels like a miracle that we met like this now."
"It really is," Renjun mutters. Back then, just as now … but this time, it is different. They both are different, as much as something echoes from times long gone.
He takes a deep breath-
-and exhales his story.
It's difficult to really piece together a beginning when it's been so long - to really find a conclusive ending when even now, it feels like there is none, with shadows looming over his head whenever he closes his eyes. The stage lights are still burning, the many expectations placed upon him have a phantom weight to them - and the imperative never to falter, lest he risks the end of something far greater than him.
As much relief as he feels, the haunting images of so many years in-between the then and the now are nothing that he can discard as easily.
It is easier to smile now, to laugh and to be himself - yet, there is the griping sensation that he is still a mere performer, enacting the script according to someone else's - anyone else's whims but his own.
"Honestly, I don't really know anymore," he scoffs at some point - exasperated, but a soft smile still crawls upon his features as lightly, he leans his head against Donghyuck's shoulder, closing his eyes. "But I do know that … it's over now. And the first thing I'm deciding for myself is - no more pretending, you know? I don't want to be anyone anymore that I don't actually am."
Even though I actually … don't have any idea what that means.
Donghyuck hums, gently tightening his hold on him as he rocks them back and forth a little, to the rhythm of some foreign melody. It's nice, though, and Renjun finds himself closing his eyes a little, burrowing himself into the other's hug.
Renjun feels how fingers card through his hair that are slightly oily since he hasn't been washing them as often as he perhaps should, but it doesn't deter Donghyuck from the gentle motion.
"It must have been hard, hasn't it?"
There must be something strange about the words, something that tears something inside Renjun open and apart as he stills in Donghyuck's embrace, quiet for heartbeats when the first tear falls - sobs echoing quietly, until he can't hold it in anymore.
Emotions he daren't to express, feelings he nearly forgot about - they're all surfacing in the blink of the eye, making him cling to the other as tears continue to blur his sight.
-----
"Feeling better?" Donghyuck's voice filters through at last as hiccups remain.
Embarrassment is the first emotion Renjun feels after, making him hide amidst the other's fabric even more, face heating up over the vulnerability he allowed himself to show - the closeness that feels so alien, albeit not unwelcoming.
"Sorry …"
But Donghyuck only hums and Renjun can feel how he must be shaking his head. He tightens his hold, or maybe they both do.
"It's alright," he says gently, fingers continuing to card through Renjun's hair. "I'm glad you told me, actually."
"With five years delay … yeah," Renjun mutters, still hiding his face, voice dimmed through the proximity.
"You had your own reason for that."
"So … you're not mad?"
Donghyuck chuckles, gently nudging Renjun to go out of his hiding, turning his head to face him instead. Tears must be framing his face, but through the blurry veil, Renjun thinks he can still sense endearment in the other's face as he cradles his.
"Why would I be mad - at you, no less? You did the best you could, and you did well until the final end," Donghyuck retorts, "if anything, I'm more mad at myself that I couldn't have helped you earlier."
"I wouldn't have let you," Renjun huffs, a small smile sparking anew after everything.
"Yeah, probably," Donghyuck laughs, "still worth a shot every time."
"You're so weird," Renjun shakes his head.
Yet, the mirth in Donghyuck's eyes isn't fading - only his hands wander to engulf him in another hug instead, crystalline sounds falling from it.
"I guess I may be."
Cautiously still, Renjun lays his head down on Donghyuck's shoulder, facing him as he can make out his features from this perspective - barely, roughly, but there is comfort to be found in this strange intimacy. He doesn't remember them being this close, at the same time as he remembers his wishes of what could have been, but effectively never was.
Maybe … does he really get a chance to 'live'?
"It's over now," he mutters, eyes closing again as fatigue replaces the grief - the amalgamation of emotions prior. He shouldn't extend his stay at Donghyuck's for so long.
"It's over now," Donghyuck echoes.
Though it can't be that late, Renjun feels the last rays of sunshine approaching this day, painting the apartment in the blooms of an orange sunset. It would probably be another hour or two until the night fully encapsulates this winter day, submerging the city in its tones of black and blue. He lifts his head towards the wandering sun.
He really shouldn't stay for so long.
"I should get going-" Renjun says in the moment Donghyuck speaks up again.
"Hm … but - and this might be a long shot - oh, what did you say?"
They look at each other for a moment - chuckling in tune as Renjun gestures vaguely towards Donghyuck, "you first."
(Anything to prolong my stay.)
"I was actually just remembering … I told you of Jaemin, right?" Donghyuck remarks, "well, he, Mark and Jeno actually founded a theatre troupe and I was wondering if-"
"What?" Renjun scoffs, unable to keep his eyes from rolling - a hand from lightly hitting the other in disbelief, "didn't I just tell you that I'm done with acting and pretending to be someone I'm not?"
"I know, I know," Donghyuck spills words and a chuckle, tightening his hold in an apparent attempt to calm him who continues to huff, but lets himself be subdued - at least for now. "And I'm not asking for you to do it ever again, if it isn't something you explicitly want. But … I also think that theatre does mean a lot to you. Jaems only told me that he's looking for a creative director - a consultant, sort of, and I was wondering if you might be interested? No acting whatsoever, just you and your sense for artistry."
Renjun looks at the other with narrowed eyes, crossing his arms as he watches the ever-so-innocent gaze in his eyes. Like a puppy - or, no, more like a cute bear that means no harm, unknowing yet of its own impact and the strength it has.
"You must know, my time is still very, very valuable, I can't just associate with anyone," Renjun chides.
"That's okay," Donghyuck hums, "you can come by any time you want to ascertain whether or not it'd be worth your time, I'm sure Jaems will be thrilled - he really likes your works. I think one of your pieces was among why he even wanted to get into theatre."
"As if …" Renjun mutters.
He can barely look back to what he created thus far - what was created, using his likeness.
"Perhaps you don't believe it, but you know? You inspired more people than you could fathom - you left your mark as you shone as bright as a star," Donghyuck says softly, pressing Renjun's head gently against him, "you're the sun, Renjunnie."
Renjun doesn't reply to it, only muttering something about thinking over it - it's an enticing offer, he can't lie about that, and he can't quite deny that he's been missing theatre as whole. Simply watching doesn't satisfy his urge to create as much, but if he really doesn't have to pick up a role ever again …
"You …" he starts - halts, shakes his head. "Aren't you just looking for excuses to see me again?"
(If he secretly wants this to be true, then nobody has to know-)
"Maybe?" Donghyuck's laugh pearls from his tongue into Renjun's ear, a hum accompanying the fading sound. His hold becomes playful in the way he starts rocking them from one side to the other again, evoking small squeals out of the one in his hold.
"Yah-!"
"Stay for dinner? Please?" Donghyuck asks out of the blue, his motions coming to a halt as his gaze turns earnest, looking at Renjun with pleading eyes.
It's unfair, really, how he still holds a considerable amount of impact over Renjun - but perhaps, that's the thing with being pretty much the first person he ever trusted to this extent.
"You can also stay the night if you want-" Donghyuck babbles on amidst his silence, only turning Renjun more flabberghasted.
"Why are you so hell-bent on spending time with me? You do know I'm practically a nobody now, right, I mean I'm still - but-"
"-and I told you that doesn't matter to me. I like being with you, Huang Renjun the nobody," Donghyuck hums, a gentle smile adorning his features as he caresses Renjun's face. "Just you. And I feel like if we part ways now, I won't be able to see you again - which seems unfortunate when I'd rather get to know you more."
"What-" Renjun stutters, having to avert his gaze from the strange emotions that surface, though there is only so much where he can hide that isn't Donghyuck - it makes his brain short-circuit, not exactly thinking as he ushers, "you sound like you're proposing to me."
It evokes a laugh out of Donghyuck - airy, ephemeral as it lingers in the air, to be gone with memory alone, as he hums, "you know, I like the sound of it … hey, why don't we get engaged-"
"Are you out of your mind!? Do you even love me?" Renjun slaps him again, though his heart drums a funny rhythm as the words escape him.
"Honestly? I'm not really sure," Donghyuck's gaze turns pensive - serious, though there is still this … something of before, a kind of adoration that Renjun doesn't know where it came from, nor does he know if he is strong enough to face it - or strong enough to let it go.
(Hands are reaching out, wondrous of that curious emotion, wanting … what, exactly?)
"See! You shouldn't say things so light-heartedly-"
"-but, truthfully, I'd love to spend the rest of my life learning to love you, if you permit me to do so," Donghyuck hums, sincerity dripping from his words as he gently takes one of Renjun's hands into his, breathing a kiss onto the skin - making Renjun want to crawl out of it, or stay in this moment forevermore.
"You really are so weird," Renjun blurts out - at this point, he can't even attribute the heat of his cheeks to anything but the presence so close to him, whose laugh sounds like sunshine and rainbows, and who holds him so earnestly, he still can't understand why.
Perhaps, Donghyuck doesn't understand either.
Perhaps, Renjun wants to find out - the way Donghyuck sees him now, a soft gaze that has nothing to do with the pressuring weight of a constructed reality.
This could be his reality, perhaps …?
"Let me sleep first," Renjun huffs out at last, letting his back fall onto the couch as he detaches himself from Donghyuck's embrace - not for too long, though, as the other is quick to follow, laying down alongside of him.
The couch is barely big enough to fit their heights, let alone two people, but somehow, they make it work.
"Okay," Donghyuck remarks, engulfing Renjun in another hug - returning the hold that Renjun is having on him right now, too.
Why is it so easy with you? Why is it so familiar? he wants to ask, but the words don't manage to leave his throat when he feels a gentle touch - fingers grazing over his cheek.
"Can I ask you something before?" Donghyuck whispers into the silence, faces mere inches apart.
Renjun nods, watching every minuscule change on the other's face.
"The words you want to say to yourself … are they still the same?"
Please live happily.
Renjun can't help the little chuckle that escapes - of course, Donghyuck would bring this up again, considering why they met for the first time, five years ago - considering where they met again now, five years after.
"I think … yeah," he replies honestly at last, "yeah, I think so."
For some reason, it conjures a smile on Donghyuck's face - ever so gentle and kind as he cradles Renjun, as if sheltering him from the world outside.
"Sleep now, then," he mutters, "and we'll talk about everything else later, okay? I'll be here when you wake up."
It probably won't be a comfortable sleep - not this cramped when he has barely room to move, lest he risks one of them falling off the couch. Still … as he closes his eyes, the image of Donghyuck's endeared smile imprinted in his memory, Renjun drifts off to a more peaceful slumber than he had in months.
Thank you for being the first to listen to me, and for the last to …