Chapter Text
Renjun had a massive, borderline humiliating crush on Na Jaemin.
It wasn’t new. It wasn’t subtle. And it definitely wasn’t fading anytime soon.
It started freshman year, maybe earlier — when he caught sight of Jaemin during one of those student org fairs, sitting on the edge of the music building steps with drumsticks tapping restlessly against his thighs, headphones on, lost in whatever beat was playing in his head. Jaemin had that kind of quiet presence that didn’t demand attention, but kept it once you looked. Like gravity. Or a really good song.
Since then, Jaemin became one of those unspoken constants in Renjun’s world. A crush tucked neatly into his chest, folded like a secret letter he never sent. He watched the way Jaemin moved — reserved, calm, usually letting Haechan, Mark and Jeno take center stage while he stayed in the back, keeping time with his sticks and a small, knowing smile.
Renjun never expected anything to happen.
He was just a student worker at Café Dream, balancing psych lectures with latte art, barely keeping up with life. Jaemin was... well, Jaemin. Drummer of the campus band Broken Melodies, soft-spoken but magnetic, with a jawline that could end wars and a rhythm that made Renjun’s knees weak.
So he kept his feelings quiet.
Instead, Renjun found himself tangled up in something else entirely — a strange, chaotic friendship with Lee Haechan.
Haechan had started showing up at the café last semester, always with a smirk and an order that made Renjun question his will to live. (“Oat milk, but like... not too oat. You know what I mean?” No. No, he didn’t.) He flirted shamelessly. Called Renjun “cutie” instead of his name. Drew hearts on the tip jar.
At first, Renjun rolled his eyes. Now? He sort of... looked forward to it.
They had a thing — not a thing-thing — but something. Something light and bantery. Haechan would lean over the counter like he had no concept of personal space, and Renjun would pretend to be annoyed while secretly enjoying every second.
It was just how they worked.
But then, one Thursday afternoon, Haechan slid into the café wearing his usual chaos energy and a backwards cap, grinning like he had a secret.
“You doing anything Friday night?”
Renjun didn’t look up from the drink he was making. “Avoiding human interaction. Why?”
“We’re playing at a party. Off-campus. You should come.”
Renjun didn’t even look up from the drink he was making. “I don’t really do parties.”
Haechan leaned on the counter, tone way too casual. “Jaemin will be there.”
Renjun froze, hand hovering mid-air with the whipped cream can. “...So?”
Haechan grinned like he’d just caught a secret. “So I thought I’d bring it up. You know, since you turn into a malfunctioning robot every time he’s within a ten-foot radius.”
Renjun narrowed his eyes. “I do not.”
“You do,” Haechan said, way too confidently. “You get all blinky and blushy and suddenly forget how to use words. It’s honestly the highlight of my day.”
Renjun launched a napkin at him, face already turning pink. “Get out.”
Haechan dodged it effortlessly, laughing. “Aww, come on! Don’t you wanna see your little crush bang on some drums in slow motion like he’s in a music video?”
“Goodbye.”
“I’m texting you the address anyway,” Haechan sing-songed, already pulling out his phone.
Renjun did not go to the party.
***
Renjun was minding his business, sipping his coffee at Café Dream, when he heard the familiar jingle of the door. Haechan strolled in, his usual cocky grin plastered on his face, though there was a noticeable pout on his lips. Renjun looked up, only to be met with Haechan’s exaggerated sulk.
“Why didn’t you go to the party?” Haechan asked, dropping into the seat across from Renjun without waiting for an invitation. His voice was more whiny than usual, and Renjun could tell Haechan was playing it up. “I thought we were friends! You didn’t even text me to let me know you weren’t coming!”
Renjun blinked. “I—uh, I don’t know. It wasn’t really my thing. I’m just... not good with big crowds.”
Haechan leaned forward, dramatic as ever. “Come on, man! You could have at least shown up to support me! I was up there, singing my heart out for the people, and where were you? At home, drinking your overpriced coffee?” He waved a hand as if to dismiss the thought, though his eyes were still playful. “I know you were secretly dying to come.”
Renjun smiled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not that... I just—well, I’m not as outgoing as you. I mean, I work here. I’m good with making coffee, not socializing with crowds of people.”
Haechan let out an exaggerated sigh, leaning back in his chair. “You could have at least come for the afterparty! We had so much fun. Jaemin was there, Mark, Jeno... the whole crew. It was crazy, Renjun! You missed the best time of your life.”
Renjun’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of Jaemin. He tried to keep his voice steady. “I’m sure it was great. You were probably swarmed with fans, right?”
Haechan gave him a knowing grin, leaning in just a bit closer, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, you know me. A little crowd here, a little crowd there. But you know what? The real showstopper last night wasn’t the fans. It was me. I was up there, belting out my heart, stealing the spotlight as usual.” He threw his hands up in mock humility. “I’m just too talented for my own good.”
Renjun chuckled, rolling his eyes playfully. “Oh, really? I had no idea you were such a star.” He took a sip of his coffee, trying to keep a straight face. “I’ll bet you were the center of attention all night. Didn’t even need a spotlight.”
Haechan grinned, his voice lowering as if sharing a secret. “Well, obviously. But the thing is, while I was busy being amazing, I kept thinking, ‘Where’s Renjun? Why didn’t he come? I needed him there for moral support.’” He placed a hand on his chest dramatically. “I was out there, giving my all, while you were here sipping your coffee. We could’ve had a blast, you know?”
Renjun raised an eyebrow, teasing. “Oh, so you wanted me there for moral support, huh? Not because you missed me?”
Haechan’s grin widened. “Of course I missed you! Who else could I talk to about my amazing vocal runs and how the crowd was basically worshipping me? You would’ve been my personal hype man!”
Renjun leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms with a smirk. “Yeah, sure. And I’m sure the crowd was just waiting for me to throw some confetti and start chanting your name, right?”
“Exactly!” Haechan said, his tone full of mock seriousness. “You’ve got the energy. You’re a natural-born hype man, Renjun. Missed opportunity, honestly.”
Renjun laughed, shaking his head. “I think you're getting carried away there, Haechan. But I’ll take your word for it. I’ll just be your cheerleader from here on out.”
***
Renjun was lying face-down on the grass, backpack abandoned two feet away like it had betrayed him. “I’m dropping out.”
Chenle didn’t even blink. “Okay. Can I have your notes?”
“You were supposed to stop me!”
Chenle plopped down next to him, cross-legged, munching on a granola bar like he hadn't just sprinted across campus to make it to their neuro lecture. “I tried last week and you told me to ‘let you spiral in peace.’ I’m just being supportive.”
Renjun groaned into the earth. “That was before Professor Lee decided to assign a twenty-page paper on sleep cycles. During midterms. That’s psychological warfare.”
Chenle nodded solemnly. “He’s probably testing us. Like, how far can I push them before someone starts twitching in public. It’s very meta.”
Renjun flipped over onto his back with a dramatic sigh. “I already twitch in public.”
“You do. But it’s more of a cute-twitch. Like a stressed bunny. It’s endearing.”
Renjun chucked a pebble at him. “I hate you.”
“Love you too,” Chenle chirped, unbothered. “Anyway, you’re not dropping out. Who else am I gonna plagiarize ethical framework outlines from?”
“I am deeply offended,” Renjun said, sitting up just to look personally betrayed. “My work is original and derivative-free.”
“Sure it is,” Chenle said, eyes gleaming. “That’s why you spent an entire paragraph last week quoting Freud and then called him ‘a little problematic but still kinda spittin’.’”
Renjun covered his face with both hands. “Why do you remember these things.”
“Because I cherish you,” Chenle said sweetly. “And also because I think you’re slowly losing your mind and it’s fun to watch.”
They sat there for a second in the sun, listening to the wind shuffle through half-dead leaves and the distant scream of someone definitely failing org chem.
Then, casually, Chenle added, “Hey, weren’t you supposed to go to that band party last weekend?”
Renjun immediately looked like he’d swallowed a bee. “Oh. Uh. No, I didn’t go.”
Chenle raised an eyebrow. “Thought you were finally gonna talk to your drum crush.”
“I don’t—he’s not—” Renjun sputtered, pink already blooming on his cheeks.
Chenle held up a hand. “I didn’t say anything. But that was a very dramatic reaction for someone who ‘doesn’t’.”
Renjun pulled his hoodie over his head like a turtle retreating. “Shut up.”
***
Haechan’s text pinged Renjun's phone late one afternoon, just as he was about to shut his textbooks and call it a day.
Haechan: You free? Come to the library. 3rd floor, study room. It's important. Don’t think too much about it.
Renjun stared at the screen, wondering if he should be worried. But it was Haechan. And when Haechan said "important," it usually meant he needed someone to laugh at his bad jokes or distract him from his latest drama. So, with a half sigh, Renjun grabbed his bag and made his way to the library.
***
Renjun entered the study room on the third floor, immediately spotting Haechan lounging on a chair by the window, looking unusually calm. Jaemin sat beside him, reading something on his phone, his legs stretched out casually.
Renjun blinked, his breath catching just slightly. Jaemin, in the soft glow of the afternoon sunlight, looked like something out of a dream—effortlessly cool and way too handsome for his own good. Renjun felt an unexpected tug in his chest, but quickly brushed it off.
"Uh... Hi?" Renjun said, his voice doing that annoying thing where it wobbled slightly. He cleared his throat.
Haechan looked up, his smirk instantly shifting to something more mischievous. "Renjun! You finally made it. Took you long enough. I was about to fake a medical emergency.”
Renjun rolled his eyes, but his heart was still hammering. “You know I hate studying with you around.”
Jaemin looked up then, his eyes softening as he smiled. “Renjun, right?”
Renjun froze for a second, a little shocked by the fact that Jaemin knew his name. He thought he was the one who usually got overlooked in those big, noisy spaces where Jaemin seemed to always be surrounded by people.
“Uh, yeah,” Renjun replied, pushing his glasses up. “I—yeah, I’m Renjun.”
Jaemin’s gaze lingered on him for a moment, thoughtful, and Renjun had to fight the impulse to shrink away. But Jaemin's smile didn’t waver—it was genuine, warm.
“I’ve seen you around at the café,” Jaemin said softly, as if it wasn’t a big deal, but Renjun felt like a soft breeze had hit him.
Renjun blinked at him, unsure if he should respond with something clever or if it was just a polite comment. He tried not to overthink it. “Thanks,” he muttered. “I’ve seen you around, too. With Haechan. Playing... drums.”
Jaemin chuckled, and there was something oddly comforting in the sound. “Yeah, that’s me. I try not to make a scene.”
Haechan, who had been pretending to focus on his phone, couldn’t help himself and chimed in. “He’s lying. Jaemin makes a scene every time he picks up a pair of drumsticks.”
Jaemin shot him a look that didn’t quite hide his amusement, but Renjun could tell there was some truth behind the words. Jaemin seemed like someone who didn’t have to try hard to be noticed.
Renjun, feeling the conversation veering toward something less awkward, asked, “What are you guys doing here? I thought you’d be swamped with stuff.”
Haechan stretched dramatically. “Thought we’d chill. Maybe fake-study. And since you’re here, I figured you could pretend to help me with psych again.”
“You mean do it for you.”
“Exactly,” Haechan said, without shame.
Jaemin looked over at Renjun again, and this time it felt different — not like he was just being polite, but curious. Present. “What’s the topic?”
Renjun blinked. “Um… sleep cycles. Circadian rhythms. Mood regulation stuff.”
“Sounds intense,” Jaemin said, and his smile was a little crooked, a little admiring. “But you seem like the kind of person who already has a color-coded outline.”
Renjun’s ears went warm. “Not color-coded, just… neatly arranged.”
Jaemin nodded solemnly. “Of course. Very different.”
They lapsed into a comfortable silence, each with a book or phone in hand, papers spread loosely on the table. The quiet buzz of the library settled around them, and Renjun let himself relax — just a little.
Something about Jaemin’s presence was grounding, even when his heart was acting like a caged bird in his chest. He didn’t have to fill the silence. He didn’t have to be clever or entertaining. He could just be.
And that… that felt like something rare.