Work Text:
“Hey, Johnny?”
Johnny looked up at the pretty pink-haired boy in front of him — his colleague, Na Jaemin. He was doe-eyed and soft-spoken, extremely skilled at baking some of the flakiest, most wonderful pastries Johnny has ever had the privilege of trying. Those doe-eyes, however, were looking very forlorn this evening.
While Jaemin worked as a pastry chef, Johnny worked as a barista in the same cafe. They had worked together for about a year, and Johnny had seen the entire Renjun ordeal. He saw them meet, fall in love, and break up; all while harbouring a massive, painful, disgustingly large crush on Na Jaemin himself. To say Johnny went through heartache during Jaemin’s relationship would be an understatement, but when Jaemin was happy, Johnny was happy for him too.
“Do you think I could come over today, Johnny?” Jaemin murmured, fiddling with a bottle of water. “I just got a text from Renjun, I don’t think I can handle it alone.”
“Yeah, sure thing, Jaem,” assured Johnny, a small, comforting smile on his face. “You might wanna get a bite to eat first, though. Haven’t seen you eat anything all day.” He paced over to the display of baked goods and stole a doughnut, placing it into Jaemin’s hands himself.
“Eat, Jaem,” a firm Johnny instructed Jaemin, looking him in the eyes. Jaemin gingerly took a bite out of the doughnut, big eyes looking up at Johnny for approval. He munched on it for a little bit, swallowed, and drank a sip of water from the bottle he was fiddling around with.
“There. A bite,” said an apathetic Jaemin.
“Not enough, bub. Finish the thing or you’ll starve,” replied a concerned Johnny. “You should sit down, there’s only ten minutes to go before we’re off work and it doesn’t seem like there’s anyone else coming in.”
“Fine. But cook me dinner later?” Jaemin chirped softly, slowly perking up.
Johnny patted Jaemin’s head. “Anything for you, Jaemin,” he smiled.
Johnny was absolutely excellent at hiding his crush on Jaemin. He hadn’t told a single soul, suffering in complete silence. Jaemin never showed any interest in him anyways, so Johnny thought it’d be lighter on his heart to be friends with him, rather than admit his feelings; and friends, indeed, they were.
They’d spend nights sleeping over at each other’s homes, marathoning movies, TV shows, and slaving away on their assignments — working on them together. It was a good friendship, Johnny thought. He hoped Jaemin thought the same, but at the same time, he hoped Jaemin thought of them as more.
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Johnny looked over at Jaemin, holding Jaemin’s phone in his hands. Jaemin looked distressed, depressed, and completely out of it.
NEW TEXT FROM: Huang Renjun
Hi, Jaemin. I hope you’re doing well!
I just wanted to let you know that a few weeks ago, Jeno and I finally got together after all these years. Thank you for helping me make that happen. Truthfully, I cannot thank you enough for everything, Jaemin; no matter what, you mean a lot to me, and I’ll always love you endlessly. Thank you.
If you’re okay with it, I would still love for us to remain friends. The connection we had was great, and I would really, really like for us to remain in each other’s lives.
Let me know if you’d be alright with this, okay? No pressure. I’m grateful for the time we spent together, and I’ll be grateful regardless of where we are in each other’s lives.
Love you always,
Junnie
“I… I see,” said Johnny.
Jaemin was sitting on Johnny’s couch, hunched over, tears threatening to spill.
“It’s different for everyone, Jaem. It takes a while to get over these things. I know how much Renjun meant to you.”
Jaemin started to shake even more. Johnny reached out for his hand.
“And I think Renjun means well, too. I know he meant, and still does mean a lot to you. Maybe this could be a way of healing? Seeing him for lunch?”
Johnny looked at Jaemin and squeezed his hand lightly, a silent motion for him to open up about how he was feeling. Johnny was hurting, so very deeply, but if it meant Jaemin would feel better, that would be enough to make Johnny feel better too.
“I don’t know,” Jaemin whimpered. His entire body was shaking, at this point. Johnny rubbed Jaemin’s hand with his thumb. The tears started welling up in Jaemin’s eyes as he opened up, all at once.
“I loved him. I loved him so, so much, Johnny. And, and maybe, I still do. I think… no, I know I do. It hurts everywhere Johnny, and I don’t know what to do,” wailed Jaemin, crashing into Johnny’s arms. He sobbed into his shoulders, breaths heavy.
“I know, Jaemin. I know.” Slowly, Johnny stroked Jaemin’s back.
“I wanted to give him the world,” Jaemin sniffed. “I wanted to give him everything I could, I would’ve done anything for him — but he loved Jeno, and I always have to stop myself from being angry, because I would rather someone I love be with the person they love, instead of settling for me, and never being fully happy, y’know?”
“I know,” whispered Johnny.
“He was my first love. He was my first everything . He was my first time too, and I don’t regret it, but I can never take that back. My first intimate moment was with someone who loved me, but didn’t love me the way I loved him.”
“Virginity is a social construct, Jaemin,” said Johnny, in an attempt to lighten Jaemin’s mood. Jaemin huffed out air through his nose. A futile attempt at a smile, yet sadness was still prevalent in his eyes.
“No matter who you decide to be intimate with, the most important thing isn’t the first, second, or third time; it’s how you feel when you’re with them. How did you feel when you were with Renjun?”
“Safe,” affirmed Jaemin. “He took care of me. I trusted him, and he trusted me.”
“Mm,” responded Johnny. Oh, how Johnny wanted to take care of Jaemin instead. To stroke his hair and caress his cheeks while they made love, to whisper the sweetest nothings in his ear about how much he loved him, cared for him. How much Jaemin made Johnny’s heart spin, taking the best care of him before, during, and after. Johnny was jolted back to reality by another wracking sob from Jaemin.
“But I really did love him, John. I really, really did,” Jaemin sniffed, his palm coming up to drag the tears away. It was no use, as his lips started to quiver and his body started to shake.
“Sometimes I wonder. Will I ever be enough for someone to love me? Will my love ever be reciprocated in the way that I want it to be? The way I feel for them?” Jaemin looked up at Johnny, eyes wide, pleading a silent prayer.
“All I want for someone to love me, for who I am, all the good and the bad of me. I want someone to be here for me, and I want to be there for them, too. Is that too much to ask for, Johnny?” Jaemin started sobbing again. “Is that too much to fucking ask for?”
“No, it isn’t,” whispered Johnny.
“Then why hasn’t anyone loved me yet? Why has everyone who ever told me they loved me end up taking it back in some form? Am I that unlovable, Johnny?”
Johnny’s heart shattered into a million, and a million again. I love you , he wanted to say. I want to be the person you’re looking for, he wanted to shout. I want to be here for you forever , he wanted to scream. But no, Johnny could only whisper.
“You’ll find him one day. When you do, Jaemin, he’s gonna be the one. The one who takes care of you, the one who holds your hand even tighter than you hold his, the one who wakes you up in the morning with a kiss and a smile full of pure, pure love. I swear to you, he’s out there.”
“How do you know that? How could you ever know that?” Jaemin was screaming and wailing at this point, unstoppable tears streaming down his face, staining his cheeks. His eyes were red and bloodshot, and there was no way he wasn’t having some kind of headache.
Johnny decided not to say anything. He just looked at Jaemin, caressed his cheek, stroked his hair, and smiled.
“What?” Jaemin sniffled.
Johnny looked at Jaemin and spoke, very gently but firm enough. “I’m going to cook dinner for the both of us now, okay? How does chicken soup sound?”
“Soup’s... good,” Jaemin blinked.
“Soup’s good,” Johnny repeated.
Jaemin was curled up on Johnny’s couch, watching a rerun of some kind of pastry baking show on the Food Network. He wondered if Renjun and Jeno watched these kinds of shows together. His eyes were puffy, face heated up, energy completely drained. He had cried enough for a million lifetimes.
“Soup’s done, Jaem! Do you wanna have it on the couch or do you wanna sit at the dining table?” Johnny yelled from the kitchen. Jaemin hummed in response. The soup smelled divine.
“What was that?”
“Mmm.”
“Jaemin, I can’t hear you,” Johnny said, walking over to the couch, carrying two bowls on a tray and a couple glasses of water. Shreds of fresh noodles, chicken, and veggies floated around the bowl, complemented by sprigs of cilantro and half a lime.
“Mmmmmmm.”
“You’re gonna have to eat, Jaemin. Not gonna let you go hungry under my roof, not a chance.”
“Mm.”
Johnny sighed. “I’m not gonna have to feed you, am I? C’mon, Jaem. I got ya.”
Jaemin was dead weight in Johnny’s arms as he lifted him up into seating position. His head flopped into Johnny’s arm.
“Are you really gonna make me airplane the soup?”
“Mm,” grunted Jaemin in confirmation.
“Well, alrighty, then,” Johnny sighed, picking the bowl and spoon up. “Open up, mopey.”
Jaemin opened his mouth, letting Johnny spoon the soup in. God, that tasted so, so good. He chewed the noodles and the chicken, swallowed, and looked at Johnny.
“Can we eat on the couch?” A meek Jaemin squeaked, looking at the bowl in Johnny’s hands.
“Of course we can, bub. Do you still want me to feed you?”
“No, it’s fine. Thank you, Johnny.”
“My pleasure, Jaemin. My pleasure.”
Johnny smiled at Jaemin, soft, welcoming, but with underlying sadness that went undetected by Jaemin; all Jaemin saw was the most gentle giant he’d ever met, helping him out of a dark place.
They sat in silence, slurping on the soup and springy noodles. When Jaemin was done, Johnny grabbed the bowls and glasses and washed them, letting Jaemin rest for a while.
Johnny flopped back down on the couch, letting Jaemin flop onto him too. He stroked Jaemin’s hair, trying to contain his breathing. He loved Jaemin so much, but there was even more he couldn’t bring himself to say.
Robot cars were fighting on Johnny’s television screen. Johnny and Jaemin both silently ruminated about how hot Megan Fox was.
“You know,” Jaemin muffled.
“Yeah?” Johnny whispered.
“When I first started working at the cafe, I had a teeny little crush on you,” Jaemin giggles softly to himself, recalling the memory. How big and strong Johnny looked, yet, how gentle his soul was. Completely out of Jaemin’s league. Johnny, however, did not giggle in return.
“Who would’ve thought that we’d become such good friends?”
“Yeah,” mumbled Johnny. “Who would’ve thought.”
“I’m glad. I’m really thankful for you, Johnny. If I’m not loved romantically, I know that I’m loved by you, at least. And I love you too. Thank you,” breathed Jaemin, squeezing Johnny’s arm. “For all of this. For taking care of me.”
Man, if Jaemin’s crush on Johnny had developed any further, he’d be a goner. That arm was firm as all hell.
“Anytime, Jaemin. ‘Course I love you.”
Jaemin went to bed that night, cold in Johnny’s guest room. Johnny offered to share his bed, to which Jaemin had declined. Johnny was disappointed, but chose to joke around in case there was any tension.
“Your loss, Jaemin! I’m big, warm, and easy to cuddle,” Johnny sing-songed.
“But you also take up half the bed! I’m gonna stretch on the guest bed instead, big guy.”
“Well then, I’m gonna stretch on my bigass bed, too. Good night, Jaemin. Have sweet dreams, alright? Think about those Transformers. Sexy little Bumblebee.”
“Johnny, what the fuck?”
“Door’s unlocked if you still wanna cuddle!”
Johnny winked and closed his door.
Jaemin snorted, pulling off his shirt and pants to get in the shower. God bless Johnny’s en-suite guest bathroom.
Jaemin had gone to sleep feeling better than he did that evening, while Johnny laid in his bed, trying to conceal muffled sounds of sobbing. How painful unrequited love could be, he thought, but never had the guts to say.
The next day, however, was not as great for Jaemin.
“Johnny! Open… the… door!”
It was two in the morning on a Saturday, and Johnny had fallen asleep on the couch watching the sequel to the Transformers movie that played last night. Megan Fox, man.
“Johnny!” Jaemin pounded on the door. “Wake up! Open up! I think I’m on fire! But I’m so... cold?”
Johnny sighed, yanking the door open to a very slouchy, smelly Jaemin. He reeked of alcohol, vomit, and sweat. His eyes were even puffier than the night before, if possible.
Jaemin melted into a little puddle at Johnny’s feet, much like a puppy that hadn’t had any treats that day. Jaemin clung onto Johnny’s leg, proving that to him even further. Johnny breathed out a small chuckle. He wasn’t prepared for what Jaemin said next, though.
“Why… why didn’t he love me, Johnny? Why are you still here for me? Johnny? Johnny? Why, Johnny? Do you think you’d love me, one day? I think I could love you, Johnny. Johnny?”
Johnny bit back his tears. He didn’t feel like chuckling anymore.
“We’ll talk about this when you’re sober, Jaemin. Come on, let’s get you washed up.”
Jaemin started sobbing and coughing at Johnny’s feet, stomach threatening to rise again. Johnny decided the best option would have been to carry him instead of propping him up and dragging him around.
Johnny plonked Jaemin into his bathtub, slowly taking off Jaemin’s sweat and vomit-soaked clothes.
“Sorry, Jaemin. I’m gonna have to clean you up. I’ll forget everything tomorrow, promise.”
Jaemin giggled in response.
“Are you gonna have to take off my pants, too?” Jaemin slurred.
“Yes, Jaemin. I need to clean you up, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, Johnny. You can touch me if you waaanna,” giggled Jaemin, flopping over in the bathtub. Johnny sighed. He pulled Jaemin’s pants and underwear down, revealing his entire body. Jaemin started to laugh, his entire body — which was shivering, and slowly turning blue from the cold, at this point — squirmed around, making Johnny’s job next to impossible.
Johnny pinched the bridge of his nose. He was still in a state of conscious slumber, but tried to jolt himself awake to clean Jaemin up.
“Puke,” said Jaemin, very matter-of-factly, as he — oh no — proceeded to throw up all over himself. Johnny really, really loved Jaemin, he thought, rinsing Jaemin down with warm water, soaping him up to get rid of the smells and fluids, warming him up in the process.
Jaemin was borderline asleep in the tub, hair soaking wet. Johnny drained the tub, making sure there was no water left before wrapping Jaemin in a warm towel, and drying his hair off with a hairdryer. Jaemin sat on the edge of the tub, balancing himself by gripping Johnny’s thighs.
Johnny took a moment to stare at Jaemin, and his long, long eyelashes. He loved him.
He really, really did.
As Johnny stood up, Jaemin mumbled something soft, too soft for Johnny to hear.
“What was that, Jaem?”
“I wish I loved you.”
Johnny wished he didn’t hear that, after all.
“Oh,” whispered Johnny.
“You always take such good care of me. Better than anyone has. Renjun took care of me too, but not the way you do, y’know? You take care of me like you love me, like you’re not waiting for anyone else. Like it’s just me.”
Johnny started to cry once again, but wiped away the tears with the back of his palm quickly. This wasn’t the time or place to tearfully confess his love. Grabbing an old sweatshirt and a comfortable pair of shorts for Jaemin to wear to bed, Jaemin sat patiently on the edge of the bathtub, stabilising himself by leaning on the blue-tiled walls instead. Once Jaemin was fully clothed, Jaemin was carried in the direction of the guest bedroom, to which he protested.
“Your bed?” said Jaemin.
“Okay. Just for the night,” replied Johnny, laying him down on his bed. He made sure to leave a couple ibuprofens and some water next to Jaemin’s side of the bed, for when he woke up. Johnny made sure to wake up at a decent time to cook Jaemin breakfast, and this night would be history between them.
But it was fine. It was fine. As long as Jaemin was happy, Johnny would do anything for him; even if it meant hiding his love for the rest of his life.
Jaemin knocked out instantly, his arms wrapped around Johnny as tears started to roll down Johnny’s face again. He sighed.
“I wish you loved me too, Jaemin. I really wish you loved me too.”