Archive of Our Own

I know I'm young but if I had to choose her or the sun

I'd be one nocturnal son of a gun

— Gym Class Heroes, “Cupid’s Chokehold”

👑

Renjun has no way to prove it, but he’s 100% sure that the princess does what she does on purpose.

“I don’t believe she cares about you enough to do anything to spite you,” is what Mark replies once he voices his worries after many weeks of intense thought. Not that Renjun was thinking of her, specifically. He was thinking of the situation, of the context, thank you very much. “I think you’re just projecting your feelings onto her.”

Renjun lets out a choked sound. “Excuse me, what feelings, mind if I ask?”

Sighing, Mark puts the liquid eyeliner down and turns around to stare at where Renjun is curled on his bed. He looks extremely silly with only one eye done — at least he’s not using his dagger to get the winged look on point; he’s stopped doing it at Jeno’s request because blades freak him out. Renjun rolls his eyes at the thought, and Mark asks: “What is it now, Renjun?”

“I don’t have feelings for princess— I don't have feelings for Jaemin,” Renjun replies, though the words feel strange in his mouth. He doesn’t remember ever calling Jaemin by name, which makes him want to punch himself in the face now that he's realized it. “First of all, she's annoying. I hate her stupid rich girl clothes, she always makes fun of my hair, and she’s not even my type. I don't have feelings for her and never will. Are we clear?"

“She is your type, though,” Mark turns his back to him once more, leaning closer to the mirror in the vanity that Donghyuck had found in the trash for him last August. He and Chenle painted it with yellow spray paint and it is horrible, honestly the most horrendous piece of furniture around here in Renjun’s opinion, but Mark loves it, as you’d notice by the way he rummages through the drawer of nail polish with careful hands or how he avoids leaving heavier objects on top of it, afraid that it’ll break. “Like, think of all the girls you had a crush on. Think of Hwang Hyunjin and that one time you actually thought about challenging her boyfriend to a duel when you know Changbin can and will bench press you at any given time. You’re just lying to yourself. You couldn’t stop looking at her the first time we met her.”

“And that was until she opened her—” he swallows dry. “Her goddamn mouth. I cannot stand that girl. I mean it.”

He remembers it quite well. You see, when Jeno’s mother had reached out to them to talk about keeping Lee Jeno undercover until the whole situation with his dad had been handled — it’s not every day that a hero is imprisoned, mind if he points out, and he’s still disappointed that Jeno truly had no idea about his family’s illegal business, come on, he loves gossip —, neither of them expected Jeno’s best friend to tag along. Around six months after Jeno had moved in with them, some girl had knocked on their door and it took Chenle a whole thirty minutes to be convinced she was not an actual princess. There are no princesses, this is a democracy, stupid, Jisung had told them, even though he was quite mesmerized as well.

Renjun doesn’t think they ever had a girl around, and definitely not a girl like Jaemin — with her hair cut to shoulder length and whose color never fades, her ridiculously big eyelashes, her sickenly sweet voice… He knew from the moment he saw that silk pink suit she was wearing that she was going to be trouble. He has never met someone quite this annoying, and he lives with a whole Lee Donghyuck. Let that sink in.

“You know, she can’t stand you either,” Mark says.

“Not true! She pushes at my buttons on purpose, she’s always running after me. She can’t get enough of me.”

“Again, you’re projecting. Jaemin gives no shit about you and you’re obsessed with her because of that.”

Renjun is absolutely not projecting, as he doesn’t feel anything for Jaemin. But he’s certain that Jaemin has, at least, a small crush on him and refuses to acknowledge it — there is no reason for her to do what she does. He’s not crazy. Every time they meet, Jaemin never fails to irritate him; if she truly disliked him, as he dislikes her, she’d ignore him. It’s simple. Renjun doesn’t even remember she exists most of the time. He’s talking from experience.

Once he’s done with his makeup, Mark stretches his arms over his head, and the long sleeved fishnet shirt rides up the expanse of his back in a familiar sight. Most of the time, Renjun wonders how can someone not feel cold ever. He’ll have to convince Mark to wear a jacket before they go out, perhaps the one he got from Jaemin on his birthday — it might be the most expensive thing Mark has ever owned, as she is, well, rich. She wears stupidly beautiful and warm jackets and she doesn’t have to worry about growing out of them. Renjun lets out a sigh.

“Jesus, you’re thinking of her, aren’t you?” Mark asks as he gets up. “I can hear you thinking of her.”

“You can’t hear shit,” Renjun responds. “You’re so annoying, why don’t you go make out with your boyfriend and leave me alone? Jesus fucking Christ.”

Mark rests both hands on his hips, looking down at Renjun with an incredulous look on his face. “You do realize that you’re the one who came into my room to cry about Jaemin to me, right?”

“Debatable. I was already here before you came in.”

It isn’t news for any of them that he enjoys taking refuge in Mark’s room. Their funky little building consists of four stories — bathroom, kitchen and living room on the ground floor, then Jisung and Chenle’s room, Renjun and Donghyuck’s, and then his. None of those are actual rooms, but those are their designated sleep places. Yangyang usually crashes with them when he sleeps around, and Jeno, well… Jeno pretends he’s not moving in with Mark and Renjun pretends that he doesn’t see it so that neither of them will be embarrassed. It’s been a long time since he last saw Jeno sleeping in the youngsters' room. But before there was Jeno, there was Renjun, the best friend, and he’s not going to stop crashing at Mark’s for moral support just because they’re a thing. Jeno is dating a human being now, but before he got here, it was Renjun who taught a feral baboon not to leave his underwear in the bathroom.

“Whatever makes you sleep at night, my dude,” Mark replies. “I am going to a party tonight and I’m going to have fun. It’s up to you if you want to stay here moping about your crush.”

Renjun makes a mocking motion with his hand to make Mark know just how little he cares, but as soon as the latter is outside the room, he gets up and rushes to his own. If Mark is attending a party tonight, it means that Jeno is too, and if Jeno is attending, it’s obvious that Jaemin will be there to keep an eye on him.

She’s like that. A hawk that keeps watching over him, or maybe just a mother hen. Renjun literally doesn’t get paid to take care of two trust fund kids — he sighs audibly as he changes into clean jeans and a leather jacket, taking a look at himself on the broken mirror they had pushed against the wall.

It wasn’t broken until two months before, when Donghyuck got distracted headbanging (or some other stupid thing he loves to do while listening to the mixtapes Yangyang makes for him) and knocked the mirror to the floor on accident. Renjun is glad he won’t be having seven years of bad luck because of it — he wasn’t even in the vicinity when it happened —, but he supposes that it does add a charm to the room somehow. He tries his best to keep the room tidy and logical, but everything around here follows the same pattern anyway; skateboard shapes on the walls, Donghyuck’s chains hanging from a chair near the window, the posters Renjun had glued all over the wardrobe. This room looks like every other in the house, but it’s theirs, and Renjun likes it very much.

Anyways. He pushes his hair to one side, and then the other, and groans audibly before looking for some of the gel that Donghyuck keeps on a shelf inside the wardrobe. It doesn’t matter what he does, because Jaemin will make a snarky remark about it — she’s always ready to criticize Renjun’s appearance, as if she doesn’t look like some rich madam’s poodle most of the time. He very angrily styles his hair the best he can.

He meets the others downstairs, each of them dressed more colorfully than the other — Renjun does enjoy that his little gang of friends look like circus clowns. It’s impossible to miss Chenle in a crowd. He even compliments Jeno’s jacket, but regrets it as soon as the words “Thanks! Jaemin gave it to me.” come out of his mouth. He rolls his eyes and leaves a very confused Jeno behind.

“Hey there, sour face,” Donghyuck says when they’re on the street already, his arm linking to Renjun’s. “What are your plans for tonight? Did you know Yangyang is telling everyone that he’s faster than you?”

“Not with the way it took him so long to climb that building last time, no,” Renjun retorts, though quite offended. Yangyang is supposed to be his buddy — maybe Donghyuck is only saying it to spite him. It would be just like him. Donghyuck is the type to lie to your face just to see what comes out of it, even if it means setting his hook-up up. “What about you?”

Donghyuck shrugs. He waits until the others are far ahead of them before he leans in and says: “Might ditch the party and take Yangyang somewhere nice today. Like, somewhere cool.”

“Like a date?” Donghyuck nods. “Getting serious, aren’t we?”

“If you tell the others…” He makes a cutting-throat motion with a hand. Renjun lets out a laugh so loud it echoes in the street.

👑

Renjun is not familiar to this part of town, but he’ll admit it — Changbin’s people did a very good job on it. The party is located in one of the tallest buildings around and Renjun simply can’t wait to get down to business, but Mark has warned him that if he ditches the party to go jump out of buildings with his other friends, they’re leaving him behind at the end of the party.

“You’re such an asshole,” Renjun tells him, and then leans in to whisper: “I never pulled off anything like this when you spent entire nights with Xiao Dejun’s tongue down your throat. Wait, shit,” he sends Jeno a preoccupied look, but the latter is too busy staring up at the blinding lights of the room, his arm lazily thrown over Mark’s shoulders. “Does he know… ?”

“Jeno thinks Dejun is hot,” Mark replies simply. At the sound of his name, Jeno looks back at them and nods happily and adds:

“Very much so!”

“Right,” Renjun rolls his eyes. “I can’t stand you guys. I’m going to make small talk with, like, five people and then I’ll go have fun. If you bother me, I’ll pretend I don’t know you.”

Mark raises one hand in surrender before he quite literally pushes Renjun away and turns to give his boyfriend full attention — then again, they are disgusting, and have no regard for Renjun’s life choices, such as not watching people suck face. He sighs as he stumbles his way to the bar, but not before he catches a glimpse of a familiar mop of pink hair at the distance, and slides into one of the tall stools, leaning on his elbows to take a look at Jibeom preparing a bunch of drinks.

“Is there anything you’d like?” he asks out of courtesy.

“Anything that will fuck me up good and fast,” Renjun replies, and Jibeom flashes him a wicked smile before he reaches for some bottles under the counter. Renjun is not even going to ask — Jibeom is famous for his inventions, but he’s never got anyone killed. From what Renjun has heard, of course. Anyway, once he receives a tall glass containing some weird looking blue drink, he clicks it against Jibeom’s beer can and takes a large sip, wincing instantly.

While trouble does not find him, he leaves the bar and heads to where a bunch of acquaintances are. Growing up like they did, all of them have quite the collection of friends everywhere — Renjun has lost count of just how many times he crashed at Minghao’s place, or how many times he caught the train downtown with Yiren, the both of them trying not to fall down to the railway, sharing the already very small space behind every wagon. They all got their own cliques, their own problems to worry about, but whenever they meet, Renjun can’t help but feel a little bit like he’s come home.

His small moment of bliss does not last long — around the time Yangyang is pulled from the conversation by a very eager Donghyuck, Renjun looks up only to find Mark walking straight to him. He sighs in advance.

“Hey,” Mark says as he crouches down on the floor, and Renjun tries really hard to hide himself behind Aisha’s figure, but Mark finds him anyway. “Hey, dude, I’m talking to you. Can you distract Jaemin?”

Renjun peeks from over the girl’s shoulder. “Why the fuck?”

“‘Cause she won’t leave Jeno and I alone,” Mark replies like it’s obvious. Oblivious to their conversation because she’s too busy staring at Yiren from across their small conversation circle, Aisha leaves her seat, and Mark promptly plops down in her place. “I swear I’ll do anything you want for, like, a month. All your house duties, all your supply runs. All of it.”

“I’m sure she’d understand if you told her to leave you alone,” Renjun remarks, although quite bitterly. “Isn’t she so nice? Isn’t she so polite and so thoughtful, does she not know etiquette—”

“When it comes to Jeno?” Mark lets out a miserable sigh. “She won’t let him get out of her sight. She thinks I’m corrupting him or something, she’s so protective. She’s like, hands where I can see them! Renjun, I don’t want to keep my hands where she can see them. I definitely would rather keep my hands where she cannot see them.”

Renjun snorts. Of course, Jaemin is obsessed with this idea that Jeno is some fragile little thing she needs to protect — if he was in the mood, he’d more than happily tell her that Jeno is not the baby angel she thinks he is, at least not anymore. Boys will be boys and Mark has taught him to be wicked after all. Whatever. It’s not like Renjun cares. “Sounds like it’s your problem,” he says at last. “Seems like you’ll have to keep it in your pants aaaaaallllllll night. Poor Markle Sparkle, deprived from Jeno privileges on this fine day.”

Pressing his hands to his face, Mark lets out yet another big sigh. He actually sounds so sad that it grabs the attention of Hong Joochan, who looks over at them in curiosity, and Renjun waves it off dismissively.

“Two months,” Mark replies, dropping his hands to his lap. “All your duties. I’ll treat you like a motherfucking king. I swear.”

Renjun hums, scratching at his chin. He looks over to where Jaemin is sitting with Jeno, both of them gesticulating a lot as they talk, probably about some nerdy shit — God. Is he doing this? He’s doing this. “Fine. But I’ll keep her distracted for forty minutes max. Knock yourself out while that lasts and use protection.”

“Thank you!” Mark exclaims, and he leans forward with both hands to Renjun’s face to drop a loud kiss on his cheek before getting up. Renjun very grumpily wipes off his spit.

Sighing loudly, Renjun pushes himself off the floor with the excuse of needing some fresh air, and follows Mark to the other side of the abandoned apartment, trying not to stumble on people’s feet or a bunch of skateboards that some idiots left behind.

It’s ridiculous, pitiful even, just how Jaemin stands out in between all of them — it’s what you get when a trust fund princess goes on a playdate with the ragtags. Her clothes are all pristine looking, more expensive than everything Renjun has ever owned in his life, her hair neatly cut and without a single strand out of place. When she smiles, that’s the welcome poster for all the best dentists in the country. Renjun has to look away, and so his gaze falls upon Jeno, who smiles at him as well. It does not really help the situation — they’re one and the same.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Jaemin tells him teasingly. “Thought you weren’t even going to say hello.”

On God. Renjun crosses his arms tightly over his chest as Mark lets himself fall to the couch, his arm around Jeno’s shoulders and the latter instinctively cuddling up to him. Mark sends Renjun a pleading look.

“Hey, Jaemin,” he blurts out, begrudgingly. “Wanna dance?”

She raises both eyebrows at him. Her hands sit on top of her legs, covered by a tennis skirt so white that it glows under the party lights, and she brings one up to tap a finger against her chin. “Do I?” she asks, and Renjun really does want to bang his head against the wall until he passes out. Mark better kiss the floor he walks on after this.

He fights back a sigh. “I don’t know, you tell me. I don’t have all night.”

Jeno nudges her on the knee with a hand. Renjun is not looking at her legs. He is not. He keeps his eyes on Jaemin’s stupid pink hair. “You should go,” Jeno says. “Renjun is a terrific dancer.”

Who even says “terrific”? He’s got to be kidding. At least it’s got Jaemin’s interest — she sizes him up. It’s not fair. Renjun feels dirty just by looking at her. He literally didn’t shower before coming and he can smell Jaemin’s perfume from here.

And then, she extends a hand for him to take. He stares at it for a hot second before Mark literally kicks him on the shin, and he takes Jaemin’s hand with a roll of his eyes.

Renjun is sure he has never felt so humiliated in life when he walks over to the dance floor with Jaemin’s hand on his, her height towering over him even though she’s wearing simple white sneakers and he’s got his platform boots on. He can feel people staring at them — ever since Jaemin decided to start hanging out with them (because no one invited her, or maybe Jeno did, but it definitely wasn’t Renjun), everyone around here has been asking about her. Renjun lost count of just how many guys have asked Jeno for her number.

Then again, not that he cares, not that he pays attention. He’s just got great hearing and Jeno is always around him because Renjun is always around Mark. It’s just that.

“I like what you did with your hair tonight," Jaemin says out of a sudden. Out of instinct, Renjun brings a hand up to check if it's not sticking up in weird places and she's just being ironic, but it feels alright. "Being able to actually see your face, for once, is a miracle. Even with your traditional permanent scowl."

"I don't have a permanent scowl," Renjun replies, now scowling. "You don't know how to say anything without offending me, do you?"

The music stops for a second, Han Jisung's cursing loudly, and after a loud bang it starts playing again. Jaemin’s hands sway by the sides of her body and it’s only then that Renjun realizes he’s been standing here, unmoving as he looks at her. “How is that an offense?” she asks. “Do you not look like I kicked your puppy every time we meet?”

He sighs — someone dancing behind him elbows him right on his back, and he bats Jaemin’s hands away when she tries to hold him. He wants to say: have you ever considered that you just have bad vibes? But he promised Mark that he’d distract Jaemin so he can go and make out with Jeno, so he must try his hardest to be mildly nice to her.

“That’s just my face in general,” he replies at last. “Hey, princess, less talk, more dancing, okay?”

Jaemin shrugs, unfazed. He hates her attitude. She just thinks that she’s so much better than anyone else, spinning around the dance floor with her stupid skirt and pink blouse; honestly, does she wear anything that isn’t pink? Renjun used to be quite fond of the color himself, but now he can’t stand it.

He hopes Mark is having fun. He better be, because Renjun surely isn’t — he can’t even close his eyes and pretend Jaemin isn’t there out of fear that she’ll run away. So instead of doing that, Renjun entertains her for a bunch of songs before she eventually wraps her hand around his arm and says:

“Let’s get something to drink.”

Renjun looks back at where he’s seen Mark and Jeno for the last time and regrets it, so he looks back at her quickly and nods, but shrugs out of her hold begrudgingly. They make their way to Jibeom’s bar, Jaemin not sparing a single glance at Renjun as she walks in front of him, and he has to calm himself down before he ends up pulling at her stupid hair or something out of pure survival instinct.

“Hey, there!” Jibeom smiles at them. “What can I get you, gorgeous people?”

Renjun leans an elbow over the counter. “She’s having a Sprite—”

“He is having a Sprite, I’m getting shots,” Jaemin interrupts him, and Jibeom lets out a laugh like a bark at the face Renjun makes.

He does get a Sprite, but snatches a bottle of vodka when Jibeom isn’t looking and pours a general amount of it inside his glass. Then, he watches, incredulous, as Jaemin drinks two shots in a row and doesn’t even wince.

“Didn’t know princesses like you knew how to drink,” Renjun says, because he can never stop himself.

Jaemin’s long nails drum against the counter. “There’s a lot about me that you don’t bother knowing,” she responds.

“What does that even mean?”

She shrugs, and turns around to head back to the dance floor. Renjun sighs before he downs his drink and trails after her, but Jaemin has somehow managed to disappear amidst the other people at the party. In a moment of panic, he spins on his heels in search of her and wonders if she’s actually going to kill Mark tonight, but then hears the sound of her laughter somewhere to his left.

“Looking for me?” Jaemin teases, an amused look on her face. Someone has changed the lighting set up and now the lights are more dim, people dancing closer and closer to each other, and Renjun almost, almost thinks that Jaemin is going to do something about it, but she just sighs, resting her hands on her hips. “I wonder where Mark and Jeno are. I was looking for them.”

“Why?” Renjun asks quickly. When Jaemin moves, as if she’s ready to leave him talking alone and go searching for her best friend, he reaches out and curls a hand around her wrist as delicately as he can, and then tugs at it slightly. “Come on, princess, am I not entertaining enough for you?”

Jaemin looks down at his hand, and up at his face as he lets go of her. “Do you want honesty?”

“Never really been a fan of that,” Renjun replies. Jaemin nods, and then she does the unimaginable — she grabs both of his hands and puts them on her slim waist. “What do you think you’re doing?”

She steps closer and rests both of her arms on his shoulders, one of her hands patting the back of Renjun’s hair absentmindedly. “I’m waiting for you to entertain me. Isn't that what you want to do?”

When he talked of entertainment, he pictured it more along the lines of taking Jaemin outside to introduce her to the people on the balcony doing parkour and see what she thinks of it, not this. Renjun feels his cheeks getting warmer and he absolutely despises the feeling, but he’s not going to back away now. Jaemin wouldn’t ever let him live if he did. He tightens his hold on her waist.

“Do you want me to be honest or do you want me to be nice?” he asks, mirroring her words from before.

She smiles mockingly. “You’re never nice. Not to me, at least.”

Precisely. He doesn’t dignify her with a response, and follows when she begins swaying her body along to the song. As if on cue, something slower starts playing — he hates whoever came up with the playlist for tonight.

It’s been too long since Renjun has held somebody this close, and he tries really hard not to be weird about it because it’s Jaemin, of all people. She’s insufferable, her perfume is sickenly sweet and her waist is way too small, what the hell, does she not eat? She has money. Renjun can’t stand this girl. He closes his eyes for a hot second, just so that he can picture exactly what he’ll be doing to Mark Lee later for making him go through this, and the next time he opens them, Jaemin is impossibly closer, watching him with those big eyes of her.

“You don’t really like me, do you?” she asks in a low tone, head tilting to the side.

Caught by surprise, Renjun stumbles on his words. “I— well,” he clears his throat. “Most times, you’re tolerable.”

“But not handsome enough to tempt you?” Jaemin prompts with her eyebrows raised.

He frowns. “What?”

“It’s a quote from a book that I like.”

“Well, I don’t read,” he scoffs. What the hell, who does she think they are? They don’t have time to bury their noses in books all day like she does — when Jaemin visits, she’s always bringing a few copies with her, and she occupies the couch in the living room as if she owns the place. Renjun will be caught dead before he quotes something from a book. What a nerd. “But, yeah, you’re really not handsome enough to tempt me.”

Jaemin hums, as if she’s somehow pleased by his response. Maybe she is, as Renjun has seen pictures of her ex-boyfriend (some fairy-looking guy named Felix who's a model, of course that he is a fucking model, Jesus Christ) and they look nothing alike.

Hell, Renjun would hate to be Jaemin’s type. He’d been joking about her having a small crush on him but he’s glad that she doesn’t. She looks like the type of person who would enjoy wearing matching couple outfits and going to absurd things like cat cafes, or have library dates, or attend ball galas. Everything that is very much far from Renjun’s reality — out of habit, he lets out a scoff, and Jaemin jumps a little in her place, startled. He raises an eyebrow at her.

“You’re not afraid of me, are you, princess?”

“Me, afraid of you?” Jaemin’s body shakes with laughter, her pink hair brushing against Renjun’s face given how close they are. He hates her. “Why would I be? You’re as intimidating as a kitten. And you don’t even brush your hair.”

He ignores that last part, because he really doesn’t. “I could be intimidating, I just don’t want to freak you out,” Renjun responds. Jaemin doesn’t seem a lot convinced. “You know— you are boring. You’ve never done anything even remotely dangerous in your life. Talk about not being intimidating.”

“Is that so? And what do you do that is oh so dangerous?”

Renjun spares a glance to the balcony. He picked up parkour as a hobby years before, around the time he left his grandmother’s house and moved in with Mark — as in, around the time they ran away from home, and never looked back. It was just something fun that Minghao introduced him to, and from that day on he never stopped. He should be out there with the other traceurs, and as Jaemin follows his gaze, she lets out a gasp.

“You do not do that,” she says, just as Kim Hyunjin and Choi San jump to the building below and disappear from their sight.

He nods. “I do, and it’s really fun.”

Jaemin rests her hands on his shoulders and squeezes tightly, turning to him with a worried look. “That’s borderline stupid. You could get seriously hurt.”

“That’s the fun part of it, princess.”

He can’t help but let out a laugh at the sight of her furrowed eyebrows. It is common knowledge at their home that Jaemin likes to spend her time playing board games and, what was that called, journaling? Of course she thinks parkour is stupid. Just to get a reaction out of her, Renjun pinches the patch of skin between the hem of her blouse and the waistband of her skirt. She slaps him lightly on the neck and keeps a hand there as a warning.

“Don’t call me when you end up breaking a leg,” she says at last.

“And you call me when you want to have some real fun.”

He mentally laughs at his own joke — they don’t even have each other’s phone numbers. But Jaemin doesn’t look like she’s found it funny; instead, she presses closer, leaning in until her lips brush Renjun’s cheek, and he stops breathing immediately.

“Real fun with you, huh?” she asks. “I wonder what that would be like.”

And just like that, Jaemin presses a kiss to his cheek and then slips out of his hold, disappearing in the crowd. Baffled, Renjun rubs a hand against his cheek until he gets rid of her goddamn cherry flavored lip gloss.

👑

Naturally, Renjun can't stop thinking about it.

No, you see, he had tossed and turned in bed all night, with no one to talk to — Donghyuck did go out with Yangyang, and Renjun thinks he'll only show up after lunch. He considered going upstairs and bothering Mark and Jeno, because they were certainly awake, but after little thought, Renjun realized they were awake for reasons other than worrying about Jaemin — it seems like he's the only one here worrying about Jaemin, he realizes in horror.

God. How can she be like that? Renjun is being haunted by the ghost of her lips against his cheek. She's not a princess, she's a motherfucking witch, and he'll find out all her secrets.

"So, Jeno," he says as he sits down by the dinner table, an apple in his hands and his switchblade on the other. When Jeno looks up from the book he'd been reading, Renjun adds: "That friend of yours. She's not planning on leaving us alone any time soon, is she?"

Jeno frowns for a moment, and then lets out a soft laugh. "Jaemin? Well, she likes you very much. All of you. I don't see why she'd stop hanging out with us "

"Unfortunately," Renjun grunts. He starts peeling his apple.

By Jeno's side, Jisung chimes in as he applies another layer of nail polish on his pinky finger. “Personally, I think Jaemin is quite lovely.”

“I’m not talking to you, Jisung,” Renjun retorts. He points the switchblade at Jeno, who widens his eyes at it. “What’s her deal, hm? She enjoys hanging out with us misfits as some sort of personal fantasy or what? Rich people guilt? What. Is. Her. Deal?"

“Her… deal?" Jeno repeats. He can’t stop staring at Renjun’s switchblade. “Jaemin doesn’t have any deal. She’s cool. She likes you guys. There is no ulterior motive to it. And can you please stop pointing that thing at me?”

Renjun doesn’t, and when Mark walks behind him to get to the kitchen, he pulls the switchblade from Renjun’s hold and throws it across the room. Renjun turns to him: “Hey, fucker, do you mind?"

“Point that thing at him again and I’m shoving it up your ass,” Mark replies simply as he opens the refrigerator. Back at the table, Jeno sighs audibly in relief as he physically relaxes, resting his chin on his hand as he winks at Mark.

God, Renjun can’t stand them. Jeno clears his throat. “Renjun, are you— are you into Jaemin, perhaps? Is that why you're asking?"

“What?” Renjun asks, incredulous. Beside Jeno, Jisung laughs as if he’s heard the joke of the century, and accidentally knocks his small bottle of nail polish over on their table. To match with the thousand other nail polish stains, courtesy of he and Mark. “Hey, stop… Stop laughing, Jisung, I swear to God. Anyways, what even makes you think that? Ew."

Jeno looks at him with eyes this big. Renjun looks away because he can feel his cheeks getting hotter and it is definitely not because today is a particularly warm day. What's up with these people and the idea that he's got the hots for Jaemin? He wants to murder her most of the time.

“Uh,” Jeno says eloquently. “I mean. It's just that— how do I say this? Well…"

“You two looked very cozy dancing at the party, is what Jeno’s trying to say,” Chenle says from the couch near the window. “And, dude, relax, Renjun is not going to bite you.”

Mark chimes in: “Only if you bite first.”

“I bite first!” Renjun exclaims. He cuts his apple into four pieces and shoves one inside his mouth. He points at Jeno in warning and repeats: “I bite first.”

“Never doubted that,” Jeno responds quickly. "It's just that… You did seem quite cozy at the party the other day. I couldn't help but wonder."

Renjun stares at him. Jeno looks like he's forcing himself to stare back. "How would you know?" Renjun asks at last. "No, I'm asking because you looked quite busy on Mark's lap all night, so you wouldn't be able to pay attention to me—"

"Yeah, we're done with this conversation," Mark announces as he sits by his side, dropping a plate of pasta in front of him and elbowing Renjun on the ribs. Those goddamn bony elbows of his. It'll surely bruise.

The subject is dropped, thankfully, each of them going back to their previous activities, but Renjun keeps trying to send Jeno suspicious looks across the table. It's in vain, of course, because Jeno doesn't have eyes for him, and Renjun gets up to retrieve his switchblade from where Mark had thrown it.

He stares at his reflection on the blade for a while — there is no way his ears are this red because of Jaemin. It certainly is because of the heat. He pockets it with a scoff.

👑

The next time they see each other, Renjun is not prepared for it.

He's just gotten home after a supply run gone wrong — some motherfucker had to jump him right after he got their stuff, huh? —, every inch of his body aching after a long day and the forty minute power walk it took to get home from the train stop, and he's very much stripping off his clothes in the living room so that he can finally shower and sleep for God knows how long when someone clears their throat behind him.

"Uhhhhh," Jeno says, his face livid as he waves the TV remote in the air. "We're watching a movie. What's up?"

Renjun very grumpily zippers his pants again. "What are you doing here?" he asks Jaemin instead.

Jaemin takes a while to reply. She looks cozy, curled up under a blanket, the top of her hair is tied up in a bun, the shorter strands at her nape barely reaching her shoulders, and she looks down at Renjun's discarded jacket and shirt on the floor and then up at him, and he picks them up as well. He can't believe he can't even get naked in his own house because of her.

"I was invited to sleep over," she says at last. It could be the light coming from the TV, but her cheeks flush pink.

Renjun hums, crossing his arms tightly over his bare chest. "Well, then."

"Well, then." Jaemin echoes.

Jeno looks at him, and then looks at her, and then back at Renjun: "Sooooo, the groceries?"

Yeah, right. He sighs, turning around on his heels to head to the corridor. "No groceries. I'm gonna take a shower."

"Wait, no groceries? For real?" Jeno repeats, but he doesn't reply.

Later on, Renjun has curled up on his bed and pulled the covers over his head. He presses both hands against his face and fights the urge to scream — he can't believe he's had such a shitty day, they have no food for the following week which means that he'll have to come up with a plan, and on top of it, Jaemin had almost seen him as naked as he was when he came into this world.

Could it be any more embarrassing? Donghyuck did tell him to stop undressing in places people could see, but they were the only ones that inhabit this place until fucking Jaemin came around. Renjun rubs at his eyes until he sees stars just so he can get the image of her blushing cheeks out of his mind with the sole power of his hatred. They should've come up with a no-girls-allowed-in-the-house rule before it was too late.

Sleep doesn't come as he wishes it would — it's too early anyway, and the others aren't even home yet. He hears it when Mark arrives because he's just so loud, and then pretends to be asleep when he comes to check on him.

Sooner or later Renjun will have to talk to him about what happened today, but he's just not feeling like it right now. Once Mark is gone, he rolls on his back and stares at the ceiling for so long that his eyes water.

Then, the door opens once more — he closes his eyes instantly, hoping that whoever it is, they won't bother to look for him. But then he hears footsteps approaching his bed, and tenses up immediately. He's had his fair share of sleep pranks, and if Chenle ever tries to cut his hair again, Renjun is going to do worse to them.

But it's not Chenle — Chenle wouldn't brush Renjun's hair off his face so gently. He fights the urge to open his eyes because what the hell?

Delicate fingers trail from his hairline down to his cheek, knuckles brushing softly against his skin. He can't do it. He opens his eyes.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Renjun asks just as Jaemin, startled, falls on her butt. She looks so shocked by having been caught, and Renjun is shocked as well. His heart beats loudly on his chest as he sits up.

"I was checking on you, you brute," Jaemin replies, sounding irritated by his reaction. She crosses her arms over her chest — he then realizes that she's wearing one of Jeno's shirts. It looks awfully big on her, as Jeno refuses to wear anything his size. How ridiculous.

He takes a deep breath: "Why?"

"Because you seemed upset earlier!" she exclaims, as if it's obvious. "What happened?"

Renjun scratches his head. His brain is honestly not able to compute the idea of Jaemin sitting on his room's floor, the blush on her cheeks visible even in the dark because she was, literally, caressing his cheek while he pretended to be asleep. He can't get over that. "Why were you—" Renjun shakes his head. "Princess, why were you stroking my cheek?"

Jaemin repeats: "You seemed upset."

"That doesn't answer my question, though?"

"Mark said you like being taken care of when you're sad," oh, Renjun is going to kill him. "Did you know that you actually look like a person when you sleep?"

"Why, what do I look like usually?" and before she can reply, he adds: "You know what, don't answer."

They spend a moment in silence. God, he's so embarrassed. His heart is thumping so loudly inside his chest that he's sure Jaemin can hear it. And she, well, she fidgets with the hem of the sweatshirt as if she, too, is at loss of words. He guesses it is a first time for the both of them, to be speechless in each other's presence.

"I had a shitty day," Renjun says before he can stop himself. "I went out for a supply run and got jumped on the way home. They took everything, even my bag."

"Oh," Jaemin says softly. "That… That sucks."

It sucks severely. Of course, Jaemin doesn't know what it's like to depend on supply runs to survive — they don't have markets on this part of town, and the few vendors in the area have already been co-opted by bigger, more violent groups. Taking the train to the outskirts of the city just to try and get something that'll last them the week is as tiring as it sounds. Renjun presses the heels of his palms to his eyes because he suddenly feels the urge to cry, but he's definitely not doing that in front of Jaemin.

"Renjun," she calls. "Would you lie down?"

"What?" he asks, dropping his hands to his lap, and realizes Jaemin has scooted closer to his bed. She taps his pillow with a hand.

"Come on, lie down. It'll make you feel better."

He eyes her suspiciously, but Jaemin only taps his pillow more insistently, and then Renjun lies down once more, this time on his side so he can look at her. She smiles proudly once he does, and then proceeds to pull the covers all the way to his chin.

Renjun clears his throat. "You're a very weird girl, did you know that?"

"Yes, you said it many times already."

He hums. Jaemin leans her elbow on the mattress and rests her chin on her hand, looking at him, and he has no idea how this is supposed to make him feel better. If anything, he's a little nervous to have Jaemin so close. Feels like swimming with sharks or something of the likes.

"I'm sorry for what happened," Jaemin says at last. "But it is not your fault."

"I didn't say it was."

"I bet you thought about it, though."

He can't deny that. Renjun brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, but ends up brushing his knuckles against her arm. They both inhale sharp breaths. "Uh," he says, retrieving the hand. "Are you— I mean. I don't know."

"You don't know what?"

He shrugs with one shoulder. "I don't know. I don't think we ever had an actual conversation before, so I don't know what to say."

Jaemin hums. Her cheek is squished against her hand, and Renjun looks away before he starts thinking it's cute or something. Because it's definitely not.

"You want to fight or something?" she asks at last. "Got any insults under your sleeve? I'll let you do it so you'll feel better."

He lets out a laugh, face pressed to the pillow. "Actually, I think I'm good. As much as insulting you gives me joy, I'm kind of tired."

Jaemin laughs as well, and then, she drops her hand to Renjun's hair, ruffling it. He has dyed it back to black recently, but it's still fairly damaged from his last bleaching adventure. Nothing compared to the way Jaemin's hair always looks healthy, shiny and silky, even though it's bleached as well. He waits for Jaemin to tease him about it, but she delicately runs her fingers through the a bit too dry strands in complete silence.

"Hey, princess," he whispers. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Comforting you," she replies, and Renjun doesn't know why, but he lets her.

He falls asleep, naturally. Mark must've told Jaemin that the secret to getting Renjun to sleep is playing with his hair, and he wakes up when an annoying streak of sunlight makes its way past the curtains and hits him in the eye. With a groan, Renjun sits up.

And finds out that he is not alone. Jaemin is sleeping peacefully, head resting on her arm which rests on the mattress, right above Renjun's pillow, and he realizes that she really slept while sitting on the floor. What the hell?

Careful not to wake her, he gets up. Logically speaking, he can't think of a reason why Jaemin would do this to herself. Her back is going to kill her later today, and honestly, why hasn't Jeno come look after her? Renjun is going to have a talk with him.

Sighing, he does the obvious. It is quite the task to pick her up because Renjun is definitely not the strongest guy around, and he kind of drops her on the bed as his arms give out, but she doesn't even wake up. A heavy sleeper, thank fuck.

Begrudgingly, Renjun tries to push her far from the bed's edge and then pulls the covers over her body. He honestly can't believe that she slept on his floor — stupid princess. He can't help but feel irritated as Jaemin sighs in her sleep, her hand curling around the blanket as she presses her face to the pillow.

Renjun picks up one of Donghyuck's sweatshirts that he always leaves on the chair near the window and puts it on. His roommate is nowhere to be seen, probably at Yangyang's, and maybe Renjun could go back to sleep on his bed, but he's suddenly not sleepy anymore.

No, he's got things to do. People to confront. He closes the door to his room as he leaves and heads upstairs.

"Please, be decent, please, be decent, please—" Renjun whispers to himself as he quietly opens the door to Mark's room. He doesn't want to be traumatized this early in the morning.

Fortunately, the culprits in question are decent. Sort of. Mark is the type of person to overheat at night and never sleeps with pants on, but Renjun's used to seeing his butt — thankfully Jeno is fully dressed, with that silly little pyjama of his. He approaches the sleeping pair and stares at them for a minute before clapping his hands really loud.

Jeno wakes up first — he detaches himself from Mark at the speed of light, rolling off the small bed by accident and disappearing from Renjun's sight. Mark cracks one eye open, flips him off and rolls over, promptly pressing his face to Jeno's pillow.

"Wake up," Renjun tells him as he shakes Mark's shoulder with a hand. "I'm serious, Mark Lee. I need to talk to you both."

"Renjun, it's too early," Jeno says softly as he sits up, resting his chin on the mattress and looking like a kicked puppy. Renjun feels kind of bad for waking him up. "Did something happen?"

"Yes, something has happened," he replies exasperatedly. "You assholes let Jaemin sleep on my floor, you didn't even come looking for her—"

Mark rolls on his back again, bringing both hands to rub at his eyes. "Wait, what?" they both ask at the same time, and Renjun sighs as he sits down by Mark's feet. He says:

"She just slept there. Literally sitting by my side. Why did you not come looking for her? Get her to a real bed, what the fuck, guys.”

Mark raises himself on his elbows. His hair is all disheveled and his eyes so puffy he can barely keep them open. "Uh, we thought—" he lets out a nervous laugh. "Dude, we thought you made out or something. We didn't go there because we didn't wanna interrupt anything. I don’t know.”

Renjun stares at him. When Mark doesn't say just kidding!, he turns to look at Jeno, but the latter has fallen asleep pretty much in the same way his best friend did. He watches as Mark reaches out to wake him up and convince him to come back to bed, which he promptly does.

"Are you serious?" Renjun asks, and Mark nods. "I— Well, she— Listen, her and I. Dude, we just talked. Honestly, as if.”

"Better safe than sorry," Mark mutters. He leans in to press a kiss to Jeno's cheek and then rolls off bed himself. "C'mon, let's get breakfast, you and me. I'm just gonna change first."

Renjun shakes his head, getting up himself. "No, there's no need. I think I'll go back to bed myself, just—" he takes a look at Jeno, who's profoundly asleep, but still adds in a whisper: "She's asleep in my bed. What the fuck do I do?"

Mark scratches his head. "I don't know? Let her? Just don't be a dick."

"I wasn't going to!"

Mark raises both hands in surrender as he sits down on his mattress, and Renjun considers confronting him about telling Jaemin how to comfort him, but Mark is honest to God falling asleep on his feet, and so Renjun waves it off dismissively. "You know what, bye. I hate you. Hope your bed bug over there bites you."

"Joke's on you, I hope so too," Mark mutters before promptly rolling on top of Jeno. He's out in a second. Argh.

Renjun doesn't have the guts to go back to his room, so he crashes with the younglings. Jisung only complains a little bit when he slides under the covers with him, but is more than glad to let Renjun wrap his arms around his torso.

He's so sick for that, but Renjun can't help but compare how it is to hold his friend like this and how it felt to hold Jaemin, even if it lasted for a few seconds. What the hell. He closes his eyes and wishes that the sweet release of death will hopefully come soon and quick.

👑

If Renjun thought Jaemin was haunting him back then, he's certain of it now.

You see, he doesn't want to come off as a conspiracy theorist, but there has to be something about girls that makes them so… So! He doesn't even have words for it. He can't do shit in life without his thoughts being helplessly redirected to Jaemin — ever since the bed incident, Renjun has been trying to avoid her like the plague, but he can't possibly stop his brain from doing so.

"The goddamn thing is turning against me," he tells Donghyuck in a miserable tone. "Like, my brain is my worst enemy. Would you lobotomize me if I asked?"

Donghyuck looks up from his handiwork — he managed to get some new wheels for his skateboard from Johnny Seo, who trades anything for everything, and he couldn't stop talking about it all day. "The fuck you just said?"

Reaching out with a hand, Renjun picks up a screwdriver from the tool box between them. "This might do."

Donghyuck knocks it off his hands. The screwdriver rolls away from them and under the dinner table.

"For your own sake, don't you ever repeat that, or I swear I’ll beat you up or something," Donghyuck warns him. "Alas, Jaemin really got you fucked up, hasn't she? And she hasn't even kissed you yet. Hot girl shit.”

"Shut the fuck up, don’t talk about her like that," Renjun responds. He thinks of the kiss Jaemin had planted on his cheek back at Changbin's party — he didn't tell anyone about that. He doesn't think he'd survive the humiliation his friends would put him through.

Donghyuck chuckles. "Love the way you didn't even try to deny it."

"Shut the fuck up!" Renjun repeats. He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes and lets his head fall to the back of the couch. "I think she's a witch, you know, like Ten. She must've made a voodoo doll of me. Remember when Chenle was into that? Remember that?"

Doing the sign of the cross, Donghyuck puts his skate on the floor and tries it out. Not satisfied, he picks it up again.

"I'm sure she did not, though. Like, made a voodoo doll. She doesn’t seem like the type. Why would you even consider that?”

"I can't get her out of my head," Renjun admits. He feels his throat closing. He swears he does. That’s Jaemin closing her slender fingers around the doll. "It has to be witchcraft."

"Or you like her."

"She's put a spell on me, Donghyuck."

"Or you like her."

"I don't—" he inhales a sharp breath. "I hate her guts. She played with my hair."

Donghyuck lets out an exaggerated gasp, covering his mouth with a hand. Renjun tries to kick him off the couch, but stops once he raises his skateboard in a threatening way. "So it seems that Jaemin has figured out the key to your heart," he says at last. Renjun rolls his eyes and doesn't dignify him with a response, because it wouldn't be true not even in a billion years. "What about you, though?"

"What about me?"

"Have you figured out the key to her heart?"

"I don't want to do that, thanks," Renjun scoffs. "Not even if she was the last girl on Earth and I was, like, really desperate. Which I am not. Not for her.”

Donghyuck laughs, even though it is definitely not a joke. Renjun brings his knees to his chest and wraps both arms around his legs, sighing as he rests his chin on top of his knees.

"She's annoying and nosy. If she had minded her own business the other day, I wouldn't be in the middle of a crisis. I’d be normally living my life.”

"If she had minded her own business, you'd still be moping about getting jumped," Donghyuck points out. He's not entirely wrong. "Will it kill you to admit that Jaemin is nice? That it was sweet of her to take care of you? That you shared a tender moment?”

"As a matter of fact? Yeah, it will kill me. I could drop dead any time now.”

Donghyuck groans, and motions as if he really wants to hit Renjun with his skateboard. Instead, he just gets up. "Well, I am going out to have some fun. Will you join me or do you plan on staying here all day pretending you're not thinking of Jaemin?”

"I don't like your choice of words," Renjun replies. "I think you should shut up for the sake of our friendship. Perhaps for the sake of all of humanity, even.”

Donghyuck leans in to boop his nose. "You're such a sweetheart," he says ironically. "I can see why Jaemin likes you."

"She doesn't like me, dude."

Donghyuck shrugs as he steps away from him, resting the skateboard on his shoulder. Renjun rolls his eyes and waits until Donghyuck is outside already before getting up himself and retrieving his own skateboard from their room.

At the end of the day, he really likes this place of theirs. It sucks when it rains and the heat is unbearable sometimes, but Renjun realizes, as he kicks the front gate to properly shut it, that he wouldn't trade it for anything else— "Aw, shit, Donghyuck," he says. The latter looks back at him. "Somebody pissed on the front step again."

"Yeah, I realized," Donghyuck's face scrunches up in disgust. "Home sweet home, right?"

Renjun sighs as he steps away from the gate, throwing his skateboard on the ground so he can step on. "I can't believe Jaemin sees this when she comes over."

"Dude," he ignores him, skating away. Donghyuck very insistently follows him down the street. "Renjun. Huang Renjun. Hey."

"What?"

"You like her," Donghyuck dutifully notices. He seems quite pleased with himself and Renjun hopes that he falls from his skate. "You actually like her. Some cute rich girl from the city, huh? A whole Literature major? Who would’ve thought!”

Renjun doesn't bother replying. Instead, he skates away.

👑

For some reason, the next time Renjun has to go on a supply run, Jaemin wants to go with him.

“You’ll surely need someone to help you carry the bags,” she says, checking her hair out on the mirror in Renjun’s room. He doesn’t know when Jaemin decided that she can just storm here out of nowhere, but it doesn’t seem like he can stop her.

“Which is why Chenle is going with me,” he replies exasperatedly, and she looks at him from over her shoulder and moves her index finger side to side. Of course she has talked Chenle out of it — Renjun doesn’t know why he expected anything different. “Fine. But we’re going to walk a lot and you better not complain.”

Of course, she does not complain. Jaemin might not need to walk for miles and miles to get home every day, but she’s athletic — Renjun thinks she’s into tennis, or some other rich people activity. Could be badminton. He doesn’t really know what badminton is. The point is: by the time they reach the abandoned train station where they usually wait for the train, she hasn’t broken a sweat, and she has told in detail about pretty much every aspect of her life to Renjun.

“And that is why I decided to settle for estrogen patches,” she concludes, a hand pressed to her tummy over her shirt. “Sublingual tablets weren’t bad, but I kept forgetting about them.”

Renjun hums. “Yeah, when I used gel, I kept forgetting about it also. Now I just—” he makes a gesture, as if applying a vaccine to his thigh. “—Take my T shots like a big boy. Well, mostly, Chenle has to remind me, but I haven’t missed anything in months thanks to them.”

“That’s so nice,” Jaemin smiles, and then her expression drops a little. She kicks a pebblestone in her way. “I don’t— you know, I don’t have many trans friends. I don’t think I have anything like you do with the others. It must be nice, when I come to think about it.”

They stop at the platform and Renjun hops on it first, holding out a hand for Jaemin as he says: “Well, you have us now, so there’s that.”

He realizes, as Jaemin’s face lights up, that this is the first time he ever acknowledged her as a friend or anything of the likes. It catches him by surprise as well, but to make a point, he squeezes her hand a little before letting go. He’s not good with words, not the way Mark is, but it seems like it’s enough.

“So, friend,” Jaemin rocks back and forth on her heels. She’s got Jeno’s tennis shoes on. Renjun doesn’t know why or when he started paying attention to Jeno’s clothes, but he’s always aware when they disappear and magically show up on Jaemin. “I don’t see where we’re going to buy our train tickets. That or maybe my eyesight is worse than I thought."

He laughs. And laughs. And laughs. And keeps laughing, hand pressed to his stomach and nearly losing balance, and Jaemin stares at him with hans on her hips, both eyebrows raised.

“You think…” Renjun wipes away a tear, still giggling. “You think we’re gonna buy train tickets? Do you know how much those cost?”

She pats the little bag she has tied to her hip. “I got money, though?”

“Princess, the train doesn’t even stop here, this is an abandoned station,” he taps her shoulder and points at the distance. “See that clearing over there? The train slows down because of a curve. So when it does, we’ll jump onto one of the wagons on the back.”

Jaemin stares at him like he’s grown two heads. “So you jump out of buildings and onto moving trains,” she says slowly. “Is there any other life-threatening activity that you engage with, Renjun? Just so I know.”

“How about hanging out with you?” he suggests. Jaemin hits him on the shoulder for it. “See, princess, that’s exactly what I mean.”

Jumping onto the train isn’t much of a hassle. Renjun feels it when it’s coming, the ground shaking under their feet, and they patiently wait until it slows down ahead of the curve. “You go first,” he tells Jaemin, who widens her eyes at him. “I’ll be right behind you, I swear. All you need to do is jump onto the narrow platform and there will be a metal bar on the door at the back of the wagon, you should hold onto it. I’ll tell you when to do it.”

For a moment, he thinks that Jaemin will back off — it’ll be a pain to call someone to pick her up, or who knows, maybe her rich dad will send an helicopter to pick her up in the middle of nothing and then prohibit her from hanging out with them again —, but then she gives him a decided nod.

“Ready?” Renjun asks, trying not to sound so surprised. He looks at the train, waits for a couple of seconds, and says: “Alright, princess. One, two… Jump!”

She does so without second thoughts. Before Renjun knows it, Jaemin is already on the platform, and he barely has time to follow her before the train speeds up again. It’s a tight space but Renjun’s been through worse before — he remembers this one time he was riding with Chenle and Yangyang in the rain, and almost slipped off the train trying to give more space to the youngsters —, and he tries to maintain a respectful distance between them.

Jaemin’s knuckles are white from grabbing at the metal bar, her face equally pale and one shoulder pressed to the door. Renjun wants to tell her to relax, but doing this will never be nice, so he rests a hand on her other shoulder and squeezes lightly.

“Hey, you did great! I guess you can be a punk rock princess now.”

She cracks one eye open. “Oh, why, thank you,” she says, well, yells since the sound of the train moving on the railway is so loud. “Should it take long to arrive?”

“Around forty five minutes,” he replies, and she shudders. “Hey, it’s fine. It’ll be over before you notice.”

Jaemin nods. He gaze falls where Renjun is grabbing at the metal bar with a hand, and then locates his other hand dangling by his side. With a gasp, she reaches out and holds onto it tightly, bringing it to the metal bar and forcing him to hold onto it, pressing her own on top of his.

“Princess, I’m not going to fall,” Renjun tells her, although he feels quite flustered by the gesture. Jaemin’s hand is warm and very soft, much different from his.

“Better safe than sorry, silly!” she exclaims, and then closes her eyes with force.

So there's that. Renjun spends the entirety of those forty minutes looking at Jaemin's face, telling himself it's just because if he looks anywhere else, he'll get whiplash. He could count each of her long eyelashes if he wanted to, and every once in a while she opens her eyes, blinking down at him, and he looks away only then.

Getting off the train is easy. It stops at a station near the industrial part of the city and they jump off it without any problem, Renjun holding out a hand for Jaemin but she ignores him completely with a grin on her lips.

It's a medium-length walk to the warehouse where they get food and supplies, Renjun patting the pocket where he keeps the cards that will allow him to gather those. Technically, they shouldn't be allowed to use those anymore — governmental aid is for those below legal age only —, but Chenle and Jisung still look young enough to pass and, well, they do have ways to fake documents and Guanheng does a pretty good job. They also have another trick up their sleeves: there's someone working at their designated warehouse that is always willing to help them out, sneak in a little more food, maybe even a treat like chocolate bars or some soda.

Which is why he was so angry when those guys jumped him, weeks before. It's already shitty enough to resort to this, two cards that must feed six people — he tried to get another when they stopped receiving the income from Jeno's family, but it'd be too difficult to prove they have another minor in the household when they barely have a household to begin with. Without realizing, Renjun lets out a sigh, and Jaemin turns her face to him.

"Something troubling you?" she asks.

"Just thinking."

"Another dangerous thing that you do."

"Haha, you're so funny," Renjun responds defensively. He tears his gaze from her and forward, pointing to a four story building at the distance. "That's the place. Time for grocery shopping, princess."

Jaemin nods, clapping excitedly. Something about it makes Renjun laugh. "You've never been grocery shopping, right?"

"What?" she asks, looking away. "Of course I have. I've bought groceries before."

He nods. "Yeah, and I bet it was some fancy fruit chips, some dragon fruit juice to drink during class, no?"

She crosses her arms. "No." Jaemin says decidedly. "Well, maybe. But I'll let you know I love dragon fruit."

Renjun bets she does. He laughs softly under his breath and presses a hand to Jaemin's back to guide her to the right direction, as she's avoiding to look at him in the eyes.

It goes smoothly. He presents the cards at the entrance, the machine beeping familiarly, and grabs one shopping cart only. Jaemin immediately takes over it, and after much insistence Renjun lets her hop inside it so he can carry her for a few minutes.

They grab the essentials for both food and house supplies. Renjun eyes the eggs on display because they're cheaper than usual, but they never actually buy eggs here — most of them will break on the way back, and there's an old lady that lives near them who is always willing to sell some as long as Donghyuck stops trying to cook her chickens. God. He embarrasses Renjun so much.

"How's our list?" he asks Jaemin, who fumbles with the piece of paper where Mark had written it all down in tiny letters.

"I think that's all," she says, squinting to read. "Wait, someone else wrote something. It says "dog treats". I didn't know you had a dog?"

"We don't. Chenle is trying to steal one of our neighbor's dogs," Renjun waves it off dismissively. "Ignore it. Let's pay for this."

They go straight to Kun's counter. The latter smiles brightly at the sight of them. "Who's your new friend?"

"This is princ— this is Jaemin," he mutters, busying himself with putting the supplies on the counter. "She's not from where we live."

"It's nice to meet you!" Jaemin exclaims, extending a hand out to Kun. They look a little confused by all that excitement, but shake her hand either way. "I love your hair. Actually, you're so pretty!"

Kun lets out a soft oh, bringing a hair up to their blue hair. "Thank you so much," they laugh. "I love yours. Pink suits you very well."

Jaemin is beaming with the compliment even after they leave the warehouse, backpacks full and munching on a sweet treat that Kun had given them. Usually Renjun would save some for Chenle and Jisung, but chocolate melts fast in this weather — and Jaemin has actually bought some sweets for them with her own money when Renjun wasn't looking.

"You know, I had fun," Jaemin tells him when they're on the train back home. This one has more space for their feet, and they both look very funny with the backpacks in their front. "Lots of fun, actually?"

"Yeah? Well, wait until you have to jump out of this thing," Renjun says with a mischievous grin. She rolls her eyes. "C'mon, it's twice as exhilarating as jumping onto it. Let's be dauntless, princess."

She laughs, shaking her head. "I trust you to be dauntless for the both of us."

Something feels a little funny inside of Renjun. He presses his lips into a fine line and looks away.

👑

For some reason, Renjun finds himself spending a lot of time with Jaemin.

He doesn't know how or when it starts, but it does, and it settles in his routine like it has always been a part of it sometimes. More than that, he looks forward to it — to hear the sound of the front gate opening and putting his head out the window in time to see her entering the funky little building they live in, to listen to her anecdotes during dinner, to chat with her in his room when it's late at night and the others are sleeping already.

Renjun can't get enough of it. Truth be told, he wants to know everything. He wants to listen as she talks about her plans on writing children's books, and what she thinks of heroes, and what are her favorite songs and her favorite books even if he doesn't know much himself. He wants to listen about her family, about her older brother and her older sister and all the stories she has to tell about them, as he's honest to God so fucking thankful that if someone else around here has a good relationship with their family, it should be her. He curses all the times he ever wished she'd shut up or go away.

He doesn't know when Jaemin became such a huge part of all of their lives, and he hates to admit it but he's glad that it happened. Thanks to Lee Jeno or whatever, Renjun now has another potentially life threatening activity that he enjoys very much — every time that he looks at Jaemin, he wants to kiss her so bad that he's afraid his heart will stop, like he's just jumped from the tallest building or jumped from the fastest train around.

The realization hits him like a truck when they're on the train back home from yet another supply run — Jaemin does carry bags better than the others, and Renjun would be lying if he said he doesn't prefer looking at her than anyone else when he's trying not to fall from a moving train.

The breaking point? This:

"So, this is a birthmark, right?" she asks, the tip of her finger tracing the shapeless mark on his hand, dark like a bruise. He nods, afraid to open his mouth and be unable to stop himself from talking shit. "I always thought it was a bruise because you're always full of them, but realized it never goes away."

"At least you didn't think it was dirt," he says because he's an idiot.

Jaemin presses her lips into a fine line for a moment. He deadpans: "No."

"You can't blame me!" she explains. "You're such a boy, you used to proudly claim not to shower."

"Yeah, to spite you," Renjun groans, resting his forehead against the wagon's door. What a way to impress. "Shit, I can't believe I let you think I was dirty for, like, months. I swear I shower."

She lets out a laugh. "You do smell very good. Most of the time, I mean."

"Fuck you, I'll throw you out of the train."

The train has started to slow down significantly and Jaemin keeps on laughing, and Renjun swears he's going to kiss her even if it's just to shut her up. He stops himself on time, and pretends to have lost balance to justify pressing closer to her.

Except that he does — he loses his balance. Renjun feels the weight of his backpack pulling him full force to the side, and he barely has time to warn Jaemin before the entire world rolls over.

Then, the grass. Just the grass in front of him. The backpack shields him from the impact, but he does roll onto the clearing groaning — if the train had been at full speed, he can't even imagine what would be of him. Renjun curses under his breath and checks for any bigger injuries, but nothing seems broken. He lets his head fall to the grass. He'd hate to break a bone in front of Jaemin. It'd simply be so humiliating, and she'd be so mad at him. He'd rather not.

"Renjun!"

He props himself up on his elbows to watch as Jaemin, on the distance, jumps off the train on her own — and falls. Very ridiculously. He feels laughter bursting through him, which is a little painful considering the circumstances, as the girl promptly gets up on her feet and starts running in his direction as if nothing happened, backpack dangling on her back.

"Oh, my God," she says, throwing her bag to the side and plopping down on the ground beside him. She pats at his chest, his stomach, his legs, as if she had any idea what she's doing. "Are you okay? That was so stupid. Please never do it again, I can't take the shock."

"I'll survive, princess," he says as he lowers himself to the ground once more, just to catch his breath. "Holy shit. That was fucking awful. Fuck my life, and please never tell Mark that this happened. He'll fucking murder me for sure."

"And now that's how I know you're fine," Jaemin scoffs. "Honestly, you kiss girls with that mouth of yours? How charming."

"I don't—" he coughs, pressing a hand to his stomach because it hurts for a moment. God, please let all his organs be in the right place. He can't die before the next parkour competition. "I'm not kissing any girl. Haven't for a few months actually."

"No?" he shakes his head negatively, feeling his cheeks redden. He hopes Jaemin will think it's because he just fell out of a moving train. "That's shocking. Pretty boy like you must have a whole hoard of equally girls after you."

Renjun snorts, as he sits up. Every inch of his body hurts, but not as much as his heart. "Even if I did, I wouldn't be interested in any of them. Not right now."

"Why, are you recovering from a heartbreak?"

"Not really."

She raises her eyebrows. "Have you ever been in love?"

"Yeah."

Jaemin hums, surprised. "How did it end?"

He shrugs, reaching out for one of the backpacks to grab a bottle of water. "It hasn't."

“So you are in love,” Jaemin muses, leaning back on her hands in the grass. “Who would’ve thought, huh? You, of all people, being hit by one of Cupid’s arrows. And here I thought you had a heart of stone."

“Haha, very fuI was going for something more along the lines of how Cupid’s got me in a chokehold but, yeah,” Renjun replies before taking a large sip of water just so he won’t run his mouth off.

And she laughs melodically, her long legs stretching out in front of her, and it’s only then that Renjun notices the blood on her knee. “Hey, you’re hurt,” he says, quickly closing the cap of his water bottle, and Jaemin frowns at his words before her gaze falls to her knees.

“Oh, I didn’t even notice,” she says, pulling her leg up to inspect it. Renjun is already unzipping his backpack, searching for the small first-aid kit he always carries around, and bats Jaemin’s hand away when she tries to touch the bruise. “Hey, it’s nothing serious. Relax. I'm more surprised that you actually fell to your death and doesn't have a single scratch."

“I've been told I'm God's favorite, and now shut up,” he replies, and wraps a hand around her calf so he can push her leg to his lap. Jaemin’s eyes widen, but she doesn’t say anything. He grabs a sealed bottle from one of the bags and uncaps it, pouring it over the scratch, which leads to Jaemin hissing loudly. “Sorry.”

“You don’t look very sorry,” she responds with a pout. For a moment Renjun wonders if she’ll start crying, but she slaps him on the shoulder. “I am not going to cry, and fuck you for expecting anything of the likes, Huang Renjun.”

He didn’t realize he had said that out loud. Chuckling, Renjun gently scrubs the dirt with a washcloth. He doesn’t really have the means to treat it, but just cleaning the bruise and putting a band-aid over it should do. It’s not a big scratch anyway, but it’ll scab for sure. Once he’s done, Renjun taps the side of Jaemin’s leg, who pulls it towards herself again to take a look.

Jaemin hums, patting the band-aid with a finger. “Thank you, my hero,” she coos. "What would I do without my brave Huang Renjun?"

He pushes her shoulder until she falls to the grass laughing, but not before pulling at his arm as well. They wrestle for a couple minutes before she successfully jabs an elbow on his throat and he’s left panting again, staring up at a very pleased Jaemin.

“I take it back, you’re no princess,” he says weakly, rubbing at his throat to try and ease the pain. “You’re a heathen. I literally fell from a train and you're trying to kill me?"

She throws her hair over her shoulder. “I never said I was a princess. You came up with that yourself.”

Fair enough. Renjun rests his hands on his stomach, watching as she tries to free her clothes from all the grass and other leaves. He reaches out and plucks a small daisy that was pressed to her sleeve, and says: “Hold your hand out for me.”

Jaemin does. He drops the flower on her stretched out palm. “Thank you very much,” Jaemin says, putting it behind her ear. It looks lovely.

Then, she plucks another flower from the grass and leans in to put it on the front pocket of his shirt. Renjun rolls away from her before he does something really, really stupid, not bothering about getting dirt all over his clothes, but careful enough not to lose his daisy.

👑

“You’re being weird.”

“Am not.”

“You are,” Chenle insists as they hold Renjun’s chin in place with a hand, the other holding up an eyeliner pen. “You never cared about these things. You’re definitely being weird.”

He presses his lips into a thin line as Chenle traces a bold line over his eyelid. Usually, he wouldn’t be found locked in a bathroom getting makeup done. But— “Sorry if I want to look nice for once,” he says rather shyly.

Chenle lets out a soft laugh. “You always look nice. Look at your face!”

That’s debatable. Renjun is sure as hell good looking, but it’s not like he does anything to help himself out — he doesn’t really do the makeup thing, and he doesn’t care if his hair looks weird, and all that. And whenever he tries those things, well, he kind of feels like a kid dressing up as an adult.

“Well, I think we’re done here,” Chenle says as they lean back, resting their hip on the bathroom sink. Their makeup is excellent — Chenle is stunning as a whole, and they enjoy experimenting things, bold colors, graphic eyeliner, all that. Sometimes Renjun sits in their room and listens to them talking about it just because he treasures those little moments. He wouldn’t ask for anyone else to do his makeup. “I’m sure Jaemin will like it a lot.”

“Shut up, this ain’t for her,” Renjun retorts, not even a heartbeat later. He looks away from Chenle and to the mirror, watching himself for a few seconds before he eventually sighs. “I feel like a moron. We shouldn’t even have come here.”

“Here” being the biggest bathroom Renjun has ever seen in his life, inside the biggest apartment he has ever set foot to. If it was anyone else, he’d refuse to even consider showing up to a place like this — there are homeless people everywhere, and just as many empty apartments in this city to match the number. But then again… “It’s Jaemin, sure, but we’re standing out like sore thumbs,” he adds quietly.

“I don’t think we are, though,” Chenle says as they put away the eyeliner. Renjun had decided he needed some makeup around two seconds after arriving at Jaemin’s place — he had taken one look at one of her friends and was like, yeah, he needed to step up his game. “I think we’ll do just fine. Jaemin mingles with our friends so easily, why shouldn’t we do the same when it comes to hers? I’m so happy to be here!”

Now that’s one aspect of it. When the invitation to Jaemin’s party arrived — as in, when she convinced Jeno to sneak in the small envelopes under each of their pillows —, Renjun knew that Chenle and Jisung would have just so much fun. They were born to be the life of the party; Donghyuck even managed to get Jisung a new jacket so he could show off, despite his birthday having passed already.

“Yeah, I know,” Renjun reaches out to fix the collar of Chenle’s button up and then pats their shoulder. “Thanks for helping me out and sorry for bothering you.”

“You never bother me,” Chenle assures him, and then gets a hold of Renjun’s hand. “Come on, let’s go back to the party.”

Right. They’re doing this. Renjun follows them out of the bathroom and tries not to feel so small when compared to everything else in this place — from the big ass art on the walls, to the long hallways filled with bookshelves that go all the way to the ceiling, Jaemin lives somewhere only princesses could. Somewhere Renjun has only ever heard of in fairy tales and things like that. He feels weird just by breathing inside here.

As for Jaemin’s friends, well, they’re nice. All of them are too good looking for their own good and Renjun tries his best not to laugh at the slangs they use while talking — all these trust fund kids are really something else. But he has no regard for them, not really, he sticks to Mark’s side for most of the time, the two of them watching over Jeno like hawks as he talks to his acquaintances.

Well, Mark watches him. Renjun doesn’t have anything better to do yet.

“Do you think we must stay until the end of the party?” he asks, leaning into Mark’s side.

“Of course,” Mark replies, exasperated. “Can you unclench? I like this as much as you do, but it’s Jaemin. She should be here any minute now. Do it for her.”

Months before, “do it for Jaemin” wouldn’t be a good reason for Renjun to do anything, but right now he’s feeling like it. So he straightens his posture, pushes back his hair, and waits.

And waits. And waits. And waits. He’s already ate too much finger food and thinks that it might not do him good later, and his friends are nowhere to be found — Mark and Jeno are surely smooching somewhere, Donghyuck is entertaining some city chicks with his stupid party tricks, and Jisung and Chenle are dancing on their own.

Renjun licks the grease off his fingers and crosses his arms tightly over his chest, letting out a tired sigh.

“Looking for someone?”

He turns around on his heels, startled. Jaemin leans against the pillar of the arch that leads to the living room, arms crossed and one eyebrow raised high. She’s... He inhales a sharp breath. He really feels as if he’s been punched in the guts. Jaemin always dresses well, but Renjun has never seen her like this. He didn’t even know things like this existed; her dress hangs off her body like it’s made of liquid diamonds, sparkling with her every move, and it’s honestly too much for a simple house party, but Renjun can take his eyes off her.

“Yeah,” he replies after a really long time. He really is embarrassing himself in front of her, isn’t he? “Yeah, I was looking for you.”

“Oh?” Jaemin pushes herself off the pillar. She looks quite happy with his revelation, a big smile on her lips. It makes Renjun feel funny. He wishes she did not smile so easily and out of nowhere like that. “Is that so? That’s news to me.”

He sighs. “Don’t push it, princess.”

She doesn’t. Jaemin walks over to his side and squeezes his shoulder with a hand. “I’m glad you came. I really am. Do you want anything to drink?”

Then again, it takes him stupidly long to nod. Maybe his brain really is shutting down, and he hasn’t discarded the possibility of witchcraft — nevertheless, when Jaemin links their arms together and starts walking towards the kitchen, he can’t help but follow her.

Jaemin pushes something sweet and colorful into his hands, but he barely registers the taste as he takes a sip of the red cup. He's staring at the way there's glitter under Jaemin's eyes and realizes, in shock, as she's been staring at him back.

"What are you looking at, huh?" he asks, ever so romantic.

She rolls her eyes, resting her hip against the kitchen isle. "I like your graphic eyeliner. You should let me get your makeup done sometime!"

Renjun doubts that he'd ever survive letting her near his face. Back in the day, he once saw Donghyuck climb on Jeno's lap to get his eyeliner done and— no. No. No, he's not thinking of Jaemin on his lap, no, thank you. That's not happening. He downs his drink so fast it gives him whiplash.

"Hey, calm down!" Jaemin explains, her hand squeezing at his arm. "Are you trying to get sick? I prohibit you from getting sick while at my party."

Renjun shakes his head negatively, resting the cup on the counter. If he doesn't do something right fucking now, he might never gather the courage to do so.

"Princess," he says, and after a heartbeat, adds: "Jaemin, I have something for you. I forgot to give it to you the other day."

"Oh?" her face lights up as she steps away from the isle. She loves gifts. He's actually going to burst into flames at any given moment. "What is it? Where is it?"

"Close your eyes."

She does promptly, stretching her palms out in front of her. Renjun takes a step closer and puts his hands over hers just to get them out of the way. "Don't open," he says as her eyelids flutter. Jaemin frowns, but keeps her eyes closed.

"If you hit me, I swear to God I will bench press you."

"I don't hit girls," Renjun whispers exasperatedly. She replies something that sounds like that's not as reassuring as you think it is, but the sound dies out once Renjun gets on the tip of his toes and lets his nose brush against hers slightly.

Softly, he presses a small peck to her lips and leans back, afraid to overstep. Jaemin's mouth falls open, eyes still closed for a moment before she opens them.

"I'm sorry," she says, and before his heart can sink to the floor and break into a billion pieces, her hand comes to rest on the back of his neck. "I might have to return the gift. It's nothing personal, truly."

Renjun's laughter fades away with her mouth, and he sighs happily as Jaemin cups his face with both hands to pull him closer. It's such a whirlwind of things, he doesn't know what to focus on — the way she tastes of cherry chapstick and how that taste melts away, giving place to something that is entirely hers and he can't get enough of; or her smell, like wild flowers right after it rains. He might as well lose himself in this, but for now, Renjun holds onto her waist, letting out a ridiculous sound when the tips of his fingers brush a patch of warm skin on her back. He hadn't realized the dress was open at the back.

"I take back what I said," he mutters when she leans back, because for some reason he can't bring himself to shut up. "You are handsome enough to tempt me. I think you are very, very, very beautiful. Sorry if I ever made you feel another way."

For a moment, Jaemin is silent, her fingers caressing Renjun's nape as if he's not going to melt into a puddle of goo in the middle of her kitchen, but then she laughs, her teeth all pearly whites. Renjun wants that sight in his life forever, for God's sake.

"Don't worry, I always thought that the bickering made it all more interesting," she says. Of course she thought that. It sounds very much like her. "Let's not stop that, please. I think it's funny."

"Okay, so," he closes his eyes for a moment, eyebrows furrowed. "Uhhh, you're an awful kisser and to be convinced otherwise, you'll have to kiss me again? And rarely change my opinion easily?"

Jaemin's laughter echoes in the kitchen, and Renjun can't believe he's humiliating himself like this, but thinking about it now, this is not even on the top five ridiculous things he has done for or because of Na Jaemin. When her thumb brushes against his cheek, he tries very hard not to lean into the touch, but does so a little bit.

"High risk, high demand, I see. I suppose I do have a hard task at hands — one week of training before I start the actual job, right?"

"I'll give you two weeks," Renjun replies in a weak tone. "Maybe three. Fuck, princess, I'll give you a month. You just have to start right now."

Jaemin nods as she wraps her arms around his neck, leaning in.