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“Don’t give me that when you haven’t even started yet. Just ask Jen or Jaem to be your model. You know they’d do it in a heartbeat,” Donghyuck teases, enjoying the way his best friend’s ears go red.
“I– you know I can’t…” He puts his brush down. “They just got together and they’re, like, in their honeymoon phase. And it’s cute, but I don’t really want to be around them right now…”
Donghyuck swallows his reply as Renjun’s expression crumbles. He puts his palette down and drops a hand onto his friend’s knee, kicking himself for bringing it up.
They haven’t talked about it, but really, they don’t have to.
The four of them have been friends since they were in diapers, so of course Donghyuck saw some kind of romantic development coming. But he also had no idea how it would unfold, and honestly, he’s been worrying over Renjun ever since it happened. He stood by and watched the dynamic shift between the three of them—the forlorn looks, how clingy Renjun has become with him and their other friends, his [over]commitment to the Art Club that “forces” him to stay after school instead of walking home with them, the way he avoids eye contact with Jeno during soccer practice, the fact that he’s missed Jaemin’s last two home games…
While Donghyuck isn’t exactly sure which boy he’s mourning, it’s clear Renjun is heartbroken, and being unable to soothe his best friend means Donghyuck is hurting too.
“You’d probably have to bribe her with Puchao, but I bet Yeri would do it,” the younger suggests, trying to lift the mood. “The assignment doesn’t specify a male or female figure, so…”
Renjun nods, his eyes slightly out of focus.
The rest of their painting session is spent in loud silence.
---
Jaemin trips for the fourth time and if they weren't in the last quarter, literal seconds away from the end of the game, he’s sure Coach would’ve pulled his ass off the court by now.
Cursing under his breath, he sprints towards the action. The rest of his team is trying to make a play to run down the clock and score the final point of the game, so he gets into position and scans the players, tracking the ball.
When Mark moves to parallel his position on the outside right, he catches Jaemin’s eye and raises an eyebrow, as if asking, You good? The younger boy nods, jaw tight, then makes eye contact with Haknyeon a split second before the ball is careening through the air and into his hands.
He hasn’t made a half-court shot in forever— not since getting a boyfriend , he muses bitterly—so he prays to whichever god will listen as he launches the ball towards the hoop. It feels like everyone and everything pauses, waiting with baited breath as the ball circle the rim for a good 5 seconds…before tipping into the net. Thank god .
The buzzer sounds, and that’s it. “We did it,” he mumbles as Mark catches him in a hug. They’re going to the finals this year—the first time in 6 years.
Tuning out the congratulations, Jaemin automatically searches the home crowd until he finds Jeno, who’s already beaming his way, his eyes crinkled beautifully. But a split second later, Jaemin processes the empty seat beside him in the stands and his stomach drops; and likely mirroring his own, Jeno’s face falls too.
Jeno knows how much this meant to him, and how much he wanted– no, needed Renjun to be here. This was the moment Jaemin had dreamt about since they were kids, the kind he’d wanted to share with both of them, and the fact that Jun is missing is just—
Jeno starts scrambling towards the aisle the second Jaemin’s face crumples and his head drops to his chest. It’s loud in the gym, but he calls out to Mark, who luckily zeros in on him pretty quickly, and points to Jaemin, mouthing, “Locker room!” Thankfully, the other boy nods and jumps into action.
Jeno watches Mark shepherd his boyfriend out of the gym, and it hurts.
He needs to get to Jaem soon, but the stands are at a traffic stand-still so he takes the opportunity to whip out his phone and text the second, equally as important person in his life.
Je-No No No [8:43 p.m.]:
rrenjun, r u you there?
Je-No No No [8:44 p.m.]:
i no its late n u r probly studying or rdy 4 bd
but nana needs u
pls he needs u n i need u right nw
Read at 8:47 p.m.
Je-No No No [8:46 p.m.]:
pls junnie
pls come nana is not okay
Read 8:46 p.m.
Renjun 🌟 [8:49 p.m.]:
I’m on my way.
The gym?
Je-No No No [8:50 p.m.]:
yea, locker room
pls hurry
---
Renjun sprints down to the kitchen, taking the stairs two at a time as he pulls a hoodie on over his still-wet hair.
“Mama, I’m going to school.”
Mrs. Huang startles, looking up from her book. “What for, baobei, is everything alright?”
“Mama,” his chest heaves and tears spring to his eyes, “Jeno texted. Jaemin’s hurt, I think.”
She gasps. “Do you need a ride?”
He shakes his head, pulling on his beat up Converse. “I can bike, it’s less than 10 minutes anyways.”
“It’s dark,” she asserts, shutting her book. “I’ll drop you off and Jen can give you a ride home. Or you can call and one of us will pick you up, alright?”
Renjun sniffles as he nods.
“Deep breaths, baby. If Jaemin needs you, he’ll need you in one piece, right?”
“Right.”
---
By the time Renjun enters the gym, the crowds are nearly gone. Just a few parents and friends of the home players are milling around. So he immediately notices Mark, who’s pacing in front of the locker room doors, frantically checking his phone every few seconds.
“Mark!”
The older boy is visibly relieved.
“Come on.” He latches onto Renjun’s arm and drags him through the entrance, ignoring the curious looks from the remaining players, to the back of the locker room.
When they finally turn the corner and he catches sight of Jaemin sobbing in Jeno’s arms, Renjun can’t hold back the gasp that catches in his throat.
Jeno looks up first. “Jun…”
The way Jaemin visibly stiffens at his name evokes a sharp pain in Renjun’s chest. Then slowly, the boy lifts his head from Jeno’s chest to face him, eyes rimmed red, still brimming with unshed tears.
“Junnie,” he whimpers, and Renjun’s chest tightens.
A tense few seconds pass before the youngest makes grabby hands at him and the Chinese boy doesn’t hesitate. He drops to his knees and takes the shaking boy in his arms, cradling his head delicately, running a hand through his hair the way he knows Jaemin likes.
“Jaem, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
He can’t help but pull away to look the boy up and down for any injuries; there are none visible, but Renjun knows that doesn’t always mean much in sports. He also glances at Jeno, who’s watching them with wet doe eyes. When Jaemin doesn’t respond, Jeno just shakes his head no, answering for him.
“Then what…”
“Junnie, you weren’t here. You didn’t see it,” he chokes, tears spilling again. “You promised you’d be here. You–,” Jaemin sputters for air, “you said–”
Renjun’s already hurting heart shatters.
“I’m so sorry, Nana.”
“No, you–” but Jaemin can’t finish. He’s starting to hyperventilate, so Jeno takes his left hand slides closer on the bench.
“Jaem, I need you to breathe with me. With us,” he soothes, exaggerating his breathing; he nudges a knee into Renjun’s side, urging him to join in. The Chinese boy takes Jaemin’s other hand.
“You can do it, Minnie. I know you can. In… Out… That’s so perfect, baobei. Follow Jeno… That’s it…”
When Jaemin’s gasping calms to wheezes again, he resumes stroking the boy’s hair softly.
“There you go, bao, you’re doing so well. Right Jen?” The boy nods, pressing reassuring kisses to Jaemin’s temple. They both coo and caress the younger, waiting patiently for him to calm. After a while, the locker room is quiet, save for Jaemin’s sniffles.
Eventually, the youngest wipes away the last of his tears and heaves a shaky, but determined breath; it’s now or never , he thinks as he squeezes Jeno’s hand.
“Junnie…” he whispers, holding the older boy's gaze.
“You weren’t here–”
“I know, and I’m so–”
“No, listen to me,” Jaemin says, more firmly now. “You haven’t been here , and it was a mistake.”
Renjun’s brow furrows in confusion.
“This wasn’t a mistake,” the boy addresses Jeno softly, turning to face his boyfriend, who smiles in understanding; Jaemin whispers a quiet “I love you,” as an aside and Jeno replies with another kiss to his temple. “But…it was a mistake to think we could really do this without you.”
Jaemin turns to look at Renjun again.
“We tried to be happy. We– I know we could do it on our own…” His voice falters, overcome with emotion. “But… but it’s nothing compared to the happiness we feel with you.”
And just like that, Renjun’s heart is beating again.
“Without you, it’s just… We… I’m sorry it took us this long to say anything,” Jaemin whimpers, gripping the Chinese boy’s hand tightly.
“We’re so sorry, Renjun,” Jeno echoes, reaching out to caress the boy’s cheek; he leans unconsciously into the touch and Jaemin finally smiles.
“You– you both really–”
His heart has caught up, but his head is struggling to string everything together.
“We love you, Jun,” Jeno finally says, his confession straightforward like Renjun always imagined it would be. “I’m sorry it took us a while to realize just how much. Would you…” He pauses to prepare himself; beside him, Jaemin’s watery smile widens. “Would you let us make it up to you? Would you be our boyfriend?”
No amount of daydreaming could have prepared him for this.
And with words still out of reach, he does the best he can—he nods vigorously and bursts into tears.
Renjun throws his arms around them both and collapses into their warmth, shaking a little as their arms come up to return the embrace. And then he cries, for a long time. The release is overwhelming but welcomed, the last of his pain draining away. And as it slides down his cheeks, out of his chest, it’s a miracle, he thinks, the way Jaemin’s soft giggles and Jeno’s warm, deep chuckles fill the remaining cracks in his heart.
“We love you, Junnie, so much,” Jaemin whispers, and something shifts again.
---
“If you think Anderson’s is gonna cut it, you’ve got another thing coming,” Hyuck snipes, glaring at Jeno from across the lunch table. Beside him, Jaemin rolls his eyes and continues peeling his tangerine.
“We’re not going to Anderson’s for our first date, so calm down,” the youngest chides. “And even if we were, it’d be none of your business.”
“None of my business?”
Donghyuck snorts.
“Who the fuck do you think was taking care of him while you two were off being ‘in love’ with each other?”
Jaemin’s eyes narrow.
“Just because you–” Then Jeno lays a firm, quieting hand on his knee; begrudgingly, the younger falls silent.
“Thank you, Hyuck.”
And immediately, Jeno’s gentle tone defuses some of the boy's anger; however, his gaze remains trained on his kimbap.
“What Jaemin and I did was wrong, but it also wasn’t intentional. And I’m really grateful that you were there to support Renjun when we couldn’t.”
Donghyuck runs a hand through his unkept curls.
“We made a mistake. One we won’t make again,” Jaemin adds tersely.
Donghyuck desperately wants to believe them, but he’s still feeling wary after the past two months.
“We’re planning to take him to The Brush Bar, and then dinner at Victoria’s,” Jaemin continues, sipping his americano. “He loves painting, so he’ll be comfortable even if we can’t drink, and he’ll probably get a kick out of how shit Jeno’s art is.”
“Hey!”
“And Victoria’s is the best Chinese restaurant in town—even Mrs. Huang approves—so we know he’ll definitely like it. I even asked Victoria jie-jie if she’d be willing to give us cooking classes in the future. Like, one-on-one. And she said yes. So if Junnie doesn’t kick us to the curb after tonight, there’s that…”
As much as Donghyuck wants to stay mad, the anxiety in Jaemin’s voice tugs at his heart strings.
He’s had time to process, more than any of them, because he’s on the outside. Time to remember that he knows his best friends—that they love and cherish Renjun as much as he does; after all, they’ve had going on 16 years to prove it. And in his heart, Donghyuck knows—has come to accept—that despite the intense pain it brought all of them, especially Renjun, this was an innocent misunderstanding. And that they’re capable of moving past it.
He sighs, and his anger cools a little bit more.
“I’m sure he’ll like it,” the boy finally offers. “And if he doesn’t, just take him home and do a movie night. You know how much he loves sleepovers…”
“I do. Very much.”
Jeno and Jaemin jump at the voice behind them.
Smirking, Renjun elbows his way into sitting between them on the bench. “And don’t worry, I just got here, so no spoilers. You’ll pick me up at 6, right?”
The question is directed at Jeno, who nods.
“I can’t wait,” the youngest murmurs into Renjun’s neck, curling into the Chinese boy’s side. Jun squeezes his thigh and replies, “Me too,” before turning to take and squeeze Jeno’s hand lest he be left out.
“Casual?” He asks again, enjoying the flush that spreads across Jeno’s– his boyfriend’s(?) cheeks.
“Yeah,” his voice dripping with affection; across the table, Donghyuck fake vomits to hide a smile.
Things are definitely different now, but hopefully good , he thinks. Watching Renjun hang on Jaemin’s every word as he recounts the latest Econ drama, Jeno silently playing with his nape with a pleasant smile on his face, Jaem’s flamboyant hand gestures that send them all into a fit of laughter… Really good, even.
Now if only he could find a boyfriend and stop fourth wheeling…
Yeah right. Donghyuck stuffs the last roll of kimbap into his mouth.