Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Jisung was the first friend Chenle ever made in Korea. 

They were ten years old when they met. Chenle had just moved into his new house in Seoul, leaving behind all his friends in China. He remembered sitting on a mountain of boxes while his parents moved the furniture around. His father was fretting about the presence of dust in the room while his mother muttered cusses in Chinese about how tired she was. 

The sound of the doorbell interrupted them. Chenle hopped down, jogging behind his mother to see if they had a visitor. The door opened to reveal a woman who looked just as old as his own mother, with a huge smile on her face and a basket in her hands. 

"Good evening, I am Park Jihye. I live next door and just saw you move in. I thought it would be nice to say hello and give a welcome gift," she smiled brightly. Chenle already liked her. 

His mother bowed down, "Good evening, oh my, thank you. I am Zhong Chuanli and thank you so much." She accepted the basket before bowing down again, "Thank you, really."

Jihye smiled before her eyes darted downwards, seeing Chenle hide behind his mother, "And who is this gentleman?"

His mother stepped aside to give her a proper view of the child, "This is my son, Chenle. He is ten years old."

Jihye gasped, "Oh my goodness, what a coincidence. My son is ten years old too! They could be friends. Let me just call him, he is playing in our garden."

That was the first time Chenle heard Jisung’s name. Jihye shouting it loudly as he stared with wide, curious eyes that glistened with hopes of making a new friend. Within a few minutes, he saw a young boy walk towards their home. He was shorter than him and didn’t have the same welcoming smile as his mother. 

"Jisung-ah, these are our new neighbours" Jihye smiled down at her son before pointing towards him, "And this is Chenle. You will be his friend and show him around, right?" 

Jisung nodded, and Chenle mentally smiled to himself. A friend! That’s really all he wanted and wished for. 

"Which school do you go to?" Chenle asked, his voice less louder than usual as he tried to form the sentence properly in Korean. He could see the proud glint in his mother’s eye for simply trying. 

"Yongsan International," Jisung replied, with an awkward tone in his answer. His voice was even more high pitched than Chenle's. 

"That’s where I plan to go too!" Chenle gasped loudly and the adults chuckled at his reaction. 

Jisung laughed too. That was the first of the many times Chenle made him laugh. 

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Jisung was nice. Sure, he was a little awkward about everything he did or spoke, but he was really nice. He let Chenle play with his toys and video games and read his comic books. He even let him copy his homework sometimes and never snitched to Chenle’s mother. 

They walked to school together, or sometimes Jisung’s father would drop both of them off on his way to work. Chenle’s mother used to pick both of them up after school and take them to the ice cream parlour. 

"Do you know what happened in our English class today?" Chenle asked, taking a bite off his chocolate cone. 

Jisung corrected his pronunciation before gesturing for him to speak. Chenle nodded before responding, "Our teacher fell asleep in the class! One minute she was teaching us what nouns are and asked us to note down something from the board. When we looked up, she had fallen asleep on the table."

Jisung laughed. Yeah, that’s really what Jisung always did. He laughed at everything Chenle told him. Those were their dynamics since the very first day of friendship. Chenle talked about something or anything, and Jisung just listened and laughed.

Then they had turned thirteen. While Chenle was super excited to be a ‘teenager,’ Jisung was scared. Chenle remembered having a sleepover at the younger’s house on his birthday. They were watching Toy Story, with eyes focused on the television screen and hands deep down the popcorn basket, when Jisung randomly spoke, "I don’t want to be a teenager. It sounds hard."

"It’s not that bad," Chenle replied, "I like it so far."

"You became a teenager three months ago," Jisung snorted, "You literally know nothing. I talked to my cousin, Taeyong. He is seventeen and he said it’s very confusing. Also, it’s scary because he now seems to have a lot of fall out in his friendship. Too many arguments, drama and everything."

"That’s scary," Chenle whispered. He didn’t want to experience the same, "I don’t want to have that… I really like my friends, right now… Doyun, Jiho, Jiwon… I would like to remain friends with them for my whooooooole life."

Chenle resumed the movie and turned his head back towards the screen, munching on the popcorn. Only a few minutes had passed before Jisung interrupted it once again, "And me?"

The Chinese boy turned towards his friend, "What?"

"What about me? Do you not want us to remain friends with me for your whole life?"

Chenle can never forget that look on Jisung’s face. He looked so scared and sad. Almost like he was dreading the response. 

He slammed his palm on his forehead dramatically, "Oh, goodness! Jisung, you’re my best friend foreveerrrrr. I don’t count you along with those simple, normal friends. You’re special, you know."

"You’re my best friend too," Jisung responded. He looked sincere and smiled after saying that, "And you’re special as well."

Chenle looked at Jisung. He never really talked like that, always fumbling a little here and there, or just looking awkward after saying something sentimental. But this time, Jisung looked content with his words, with the prettiest smile resting on his face. And it made Chenle feel like he had butterflies in his stomach.

And so, he leaned in for a small kiss. It was just a peck, nothing beyond that. But then he immediately pulled away, both the boys staring at each other dumbly. 

They never mentioned that incident again after that.  

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On Chenle’s sixteenth birthday, there were no familiar faces from his thirteenth birthday. Except one. Jisung. 

Doyun, Jiho, Jiwon and many others had stopped being friends with him. Dongmin, Eunchan and Hyunsoo were his new friends. The one with whom he played basketball daily and studied with before the night of a big test. Surely, they were amazing. But Jisung was still his best friend. 

The one he went to after every minor and major inconvenience in his life. The one he whispered all his secrets to. Jihye’s food was now equivalent to home cooked meals for him, given how much he stayed over at their house. They had become so close that Chenle’s father sometimes even scolded Jisung for his mistakes. 

Surely, a lot of things had changed about Jisung too. He was experiencing a growth ‘spurt’ where everyday he seemed a little more taller than he did before. He had started to tower over Chenle and his voice was slowly becoming deeper and deeper. And Chenle kept lying to himself that both of the facts weren’t quite attractive to him. 

Jisung was a little more confident now, stumbling less over his words and talking to more people beyond his classmates. But no matter how many changes came, Jisung was still his best friend. His very first friend.

"That was a fun party," Jisung said after walking out of the bathroom at Chenle’s house. Their tradition of sleeping over at each other’s birthday still continued. For Chenle, it was more exciting than his birthday itself. The idea of just watching movies with Jisung and just gossiping was the epitome of comfort for him. 

Tonight, however, Jisung seemed a little distracted. He had been clinging to his phone the entire evening, checking it every few minutes. It kept pinging with notifications. It was like he wasn’t even present properly. "What’s going on?" Chenle asked, trying to hide his obvious disdain for the situation. 

"Nothing much," Jisung responded, and at the very second his phone pinged again with a notification. 

"You have been on your phone all night, and it just keeps buzzing with notifications. Are you sure?" Chenle spoke, giving him a side eye. It was his birthday, after all. Jisung’s whole attention should be on him. 

Jisung turned towards him, folding his hands in his lap, "Alright, I don’t want you to freak out. But I asked Gyumin out the other day, and we have been texting ever since… I am taking him out on a date tomorrow, and I am just way too nervous about it."

Chenle felt his heart drop.

He didn’t even know why. But his smile faded, and the sparkles in his eye slowly died down. He suddenly felt bothered and agitated, as if going through some physical discomfort. 

"Oh… Why didn’t you tell me before?" Chenle asked uneasily, "I thought we told each other everything."

Jisung smiled, oblivious to the horrible feeling pooling in the other boy’s chest, "I was obviously going to tell you. I just wanted to be sure first, in case I ended up getting rejected. Would make me look like a loser… you know."

"How long has this been going on?" Chenle muttered, "I mean, your crush on Gyumin."

"Three months," Jisung blushed, "We are in the same mathematics class and have P.E together as well. He is genuinely so good looking and attractive… It was so hard to hide my crush."

Chenle knew Gyumin. They were in the same business class last year, and he knew Gyumin was what the school described as the perfect kid . He did great in his tests, even played for the school football team and was overall a really empathetic person. Of course, Jisung would like him. In fact, he should be happy for Jisung. He deserved a person like Gyumin. 

But Chenle couldn’t convince himself of that. He tried to tell himself that it was just the upsetting feeling of knowing that he wouldn’t have Jisung all to himself. He was a possessive best friend after all. 

"Are you listening to me?" Jisung asked, bursting his thought bubble, "What movie are we going to watch?"

"Actually, I am really feeling tired," Chenle faked a yawn, "Is it alright if we just sleep this time?"

Jisung nodded, though he didn’t seem okay with the idea. Chenle turned off the lights before slipping into the bed, with his back facing the younger, as he let the weird feeling eat him up. He spent hours recounting Jisung’s words. He was wide awake when sunlight seeped into his room through the curtains. He hadn’t slept a blink and kept thinking about what Jisung told him. At last, he felt a few tears escape his eyes 

So much for a sweet sixteenth birthday.

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Chenle’s next few actions were out of jealousy. He wanted to believe that he genuinely didn’t care about Jisung in that way. So, when Jisung showed up to school with his hand around Gyumin’s waist, Chenle ignored the sting in his chest. 

When Jisung asked Chenle if he could let Gyumin sit with them on their table, Chenle forced a smile and nodded. When their sleepovers became irregular and being able to talk for longer than thirty minutes a week became a luxury, Chenle just told himself it’s completely alright and spent hours on the basketball court. 

Chenle told himself he was only upset with Jisung because he was being neglected as a best friend. Definitely not because he wanted to cry every time he heard Jisung appreciate Gyumin and sing his praises. At night, he wondered what it would be like to be Gyumin. To be the person receiving Jisung’s affection, his kisses, his sweet words. But no, Chenle was only really upset because Jisung wasn't a good best friend. That’s it. 

After four months, he realised he could not really live anymore like this. He had to make Jisung feel the same set of emotions. So, he went out with a few guys but no one laughed as sincerely as Jisung did. Chenle couldn’t remember their favourite colour, favourite dish, favourite movie etc. He fell asleep while texting them in the middle of their conversations. 

But he was determined. So, when Yesung, the school basketball captain approached him, Chenle knew he was the one. At least, they knew each other before and had similar interests. 

So, no matter how pathetic it sounds, the truth is that Chenle had kissed someone else just to make his best friend jealous. It happened when he saw Jisung and Gyumin in the hallway and he felt his heart drop again. The very moment he realised Jisung might have spotted him, he pretended to not see him, and pulled Yesung in for a kiss. 

But when Chenle pulled back, he could see Jisung with a sincere smile on his face, as if he was happy for the older. And once again, Chenle felt his heart shatter into a thousand pieces. 

Jisung was indeed the first heart break Chenle ever had. 

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Six months later, Chenle heard a knock at the door. He had been studying for an exam, while his parents had headed out to meet some of their friends. It was a rainy evening and there were echoes of thunder everywhere. 

When he opened the door, Jisung stood outside. He looked… pathetic. Like he was absolutely devastated. His face was completely red, as if he had been crying. 

"He broke up with me," Jisung whispered, wiping his face but the rain continued to fall, so Chenle couldn’t really tell the tears apart from the droplets of water.

Chenle hated seeing his friend in this condition, absolutely. Jisung’s upset face was the saddest visual he had ever seen. But he was selfish , and couldn’t help but feel a heavy weight getting lifted off his shoulders. 

"Come inside," he replied. 

They sat on the floor, the water dripping from Jisung’s clothes to the wooden panes but Chenle didn’t seem to care. It had been so long since they had sat in such proximity with each other. Surely they had texted around here and there, chatted in the corridor and visited each other’s house once in a while, but nothing comparable to the previous years.

Between middle year of high school stress, different sport activities and Jisung completely dedicating his free time to his boyfriend, they had not been as close. Chenle feared if this was the end of their friendship, but the answer was present in front of him. 

"What happened Ji?" Chenle asked, passing a towel to the younger. 

"He… He told me he cannot do this anymore," Jisung whispered, "Told me that a relationship is too distracting since we start senior year soon. He says it will be too hard to manage studies and other activities, along with this stuff."

Chenle patted his shoulder, "I am so sorry Jisung."

"I genuinely liked him, Lele. Seriously, I genuinely liked him. I too was staying up late at night finishing my homework because I tried to spend my evenings with him. But he saw me as a fucking distraction and broke up so easily. He did it through text, mind you," Jisung rambled, tugging at strands of his hair in frustration. 

"What a loser," Chenle gasped, "Ji, you deserve so much better."

"I really do, Chenle. I genuinely believe I am a sincere and good person, and I deserve much better than a text message telling me that I am a mere distraction. Makes me feel like he discarded me like a fucking object… I deserve better," Jisung replied, pressing his palms against his forehead. 

I can indeed treat you better, Chenle thought to himself before thinking ‘what the fuck.’

He brushed off his internal thoughts, "Jisung, I know it’s horrible and I really wish there was something I could do… But, all I can say is that in the future, you’ll get a partner who will indeed treat you better." 

Chenle was just a few seconds away from pointing at himself, which scared him. 

"I am so sorry, Lele," Jisung said, resting his head on Chenle’s shoulder, "I haven’t been a good friend to you either. I was so busy with the wrong person, that I forgot to be there for you, my best friend. I miss us."

Chenle felt like he was going to die. Both, on a positive note and negative one. The former because Jisung said he missed him. Jisung noticed the distance between them too. The latter because Jisung said the word that started to itch him. Best friend. 

He gulped, a little nervous because of his own thoughts, "Honestly… I was starting to worry if I was going to lose you as my friend. We really stopped talking as much as we used to."

His heartbeat was already jumping and hopping because of Jisung’s head on his shoulder. And it only seemed to intensify when Jisung looked up, with his deep and gorgeous brown eyes, looking so intensely at him. 

"You would never lose me," Jisung whispered, "Remember, you’re special to me."

Chenle felt all the breath being knocked out of his body. He wanted to kiss Jisung’s lips that were parted and staring back at him. He could feel his hands itch to hold Jisung by the nape and pull him in. Finish what he had initiated five years ago. He wanted to push his own hands down Jisung’s hair and kiss him to make up for all the time they had lost.

But Chenle did none of those things. Instead, he tried his best to smile, "You’re special to me too."

And when Jisung smiled and went back to resting his head on his shoulder, Chenle felt himself heave in a sigh as the realisation slowly hit him. 

Jisung was his first crush. He had been for the longest time.

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Jisung and Chenle had turned twenty-one now. 

They were in the same university, though different courses. They were roommates and had perfectly adjusted to the new lifestyle over the course of two years. They had new friend groups, new hobbies, new opinions. Everything had changed. 

Except Chenle’s crush on Jisung, and the latter’s obliviousness to it. 

"Your crush on Jisung is pathetic," Donghyuck said, taking a bite of his cheeseburger, "I used to believe my crush on Mark was bad enough… But you make me feel sane."

"Your crush on Mark was just as pathetic. Don’t try to rewrite history, now that you two are actually dating," Renjun chuckled, rolling his eyes. 

Donghyuck whined, "No, I swear it wasn’t THIS bad. This boy here has been crushing on him since they were thirteen. It’s going to be a decade, Renjun. In what world is that the same as crushing on a guy for seven months?"

"Oh my goodness, stop reminding me," Chenle kicked Donghyuck under the table, "All you do is complain. Maybe if you were useful, you would have asked Mark to help me out. He and Jisung are friends."

Donghyuck snorted, "I love my boyfriend but he is one of the worst people ever to ask in a situation like this. He cannot keep secrets like this to save his life. He always gets over excited and rambles everything… So, unless you want Jisung to find out through Mark."

"I don’t want Jisung to find out at all. Like ever," Chenle responded, feigning a sigh, "It’s been so many years. What if he isn’t oblivious actually, and is just trying to avoid the topic because he doesn’t feel the same…"

"Honestly, with what I have seen in the past two years… Jisung is indeed that oblivious. Remember he was shocked when he found out Mark and Donghyuck are dating? Literally the whole college was able to guess something is going on between these two, except him," Renjun spoke. 

Chenle hated it. He hated whenever somebody said something that made him hopeful about Jisung ever reciprocating his feelings. He shook his head, "Even if he is oblivious, he still isn’t into me, Renjun. He has dated around and even fucked a few people. That would obviously not happen if he was really into me."

Before Renjun or Donghyuck could say anything, they were interrupted by a loud voice, "I am going to kill myself if I have to sit through another one of Ms Jina’s lectures this semester."

The trio turned around to see Jaemin, another one of their close friends who took a seat and noticed the awkward tension present on the table, "What’s the matter? Or actually wait, just let me guess. Is it about Jisung?"

"When is it ever not about him?" Donghyuck shrugged and hit Chenle on the arm playfully, though the younger pretended to be injured.

Jaemin raised a brow and looked at Chenle, "What now?"

Renjun sighed, "He’s in one of his 'Jisung doesn’t want me' spirals again."

"Again?" Jaemin drawled, "What happened this time? Did Jisung blink too slowly while looking at someone else?"

"Funny," Chenle deadpanned.

"Chenle thinks Jisung’s not into him because he’s had sex with other people," Donghyuck explained, stealing a fry from Chenle’s tray, "Which is dumb, by the way."

"It’s not dumb," Chenle argued, throwing a napkin at him, "If someone’s into you, they don’t fuck other people. That’s basic logic."

"Not when the person in question is emotionally constipated and has had you filed under ‘untouchable best friend’ category since middle school," Jaemin said, swirling his drink, "Seriously, Chenle. You’ve been friendzoned harder than anyone I’ve ever seen. You’re practically branded as a ‘non-sexual emotional support animal who is occasionally annoying’ in Jisung’s brain."

"Wow, that makes me feel so much better," Chenle groaned, resting his head on the table.

"Don’t be dramatic," Renjun said, "You’re cute. You’re funny. You’re-"

"Annoying," Jaemin supplied, "But in a hot way."

Donghyuck nodded solemnly, "Like a very sexy dolphin."

"Thanks?" Chenle blinked up at them, "This is all very helpful."

Jaemin leaned in, all serious, "Look. The problem is, you’ve got this whole ‘I’m your lifelong best friend, please ignore how good I look in this tight shirt’ vibe. Jisung doesn’t see you that way because you’ve trained him not to."

"I haven’t trained him to do anything!"

"Yes, you have," Jaemin said, pointing a chip at him.,"You whine at him like a cat. You call him dumbass like it’s his name. You show up at his apartment in pajama pants and rub Dorito dust on his face. That is not seduction. That is chaos."

Chenle opened his mouth, closed it, and groaned again, "This is a joke, right? All of this? Because this cannot seriously be the strategy to convince Jisung to see me romantically and sexually."

Jaemin grinned wickedly, "And yet, it’s the only strategy we’ve got. We need to reprogram him. Reset his brain. Remind him you’re not just the idiot who helped him build furniture in dirty pajamas at 2AM."

"Oh my god," Chenle mumbled.

Donghyuck leaned in, eyes glinting, "We’re gonna plot on him."

"Plot on him?"

"Yes," Jaemin said, grinning, "Like a sexy, emotional heist. You’re the prize. And he’s the one getting robbed."

"You guys are insane," Chenle muttered.

"You say that," Jaemin said, "But the key is always seduction. If you want him to stop seeing you like a best friend, you’ve gotta stop acting like one."

Chenle snorted, "I’d pay money to see the day Jisung ever looks at me like that. That’s unrealistic. That’s a fanfic plotline."

"Okay," Jaemin said, looking up suddenly, "But what if it isn’t?"

Chenle was about to answer when a voice he knew far too well cut through the air.

"Chenle," Jisung called, walking over, "Are you ready to head back?"

Chenle’s heart did its usual traitorous stutter.

God, he really hated that his body still reacted like this every time Jisung showed up, like his pulse hadn’t gotten the memo that being in love with your best friend was a losing game.

"Uh.. yeah," Chenle said, clearing his throat, straightening up quickly.

Jisung was dressed differently today. Instead of the usual tracksuits or hoodies, he was in a white button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, and fitted black pants that looked dangerously close to tailored. A pair of thin wireframe glasses perched on his nose. His hair was pushed back slightly, styled. Chenle knew it was his internship meeting today, but had missed the chance to see Jisung in the outfit in the morning since his alarm didn’t ring. 

His mouth was suddenly dry.

Renjun whispered in Chenle’s ear with a raised brow, "Tell me again how you don’t even want to try getting with him."

Chenle didn’t answer. He was too busy staring.

It wasn’t just the clothes. It was the way Jisung carried himself. Confident, casual, but a little flushed from walking fast. His skin glowed faintly under the campus sun, and the contrast of his dark clothes only made his lean, broad frame more obvious.

Jisung stood next to him now, towering like he always did. Chenle barely came up to his shoulder.

"So, how did the meeting go?" Renjun asked.

"Oh, it was good," Jisung replied, rubbing the back of his neck, "The interviewer was nice. Kind of intimidating though. She kept asking these weird hypotheticals about managing teams and stuff, and I blacked out for a second… wait, I think I said I would fire someone if they showed up late more than twice. Is that bad?"

He looked at Chenle for an answer, but Chenle wasn’t really listening. His eyes had drifted to the sharp line of Jisung’s jaw, the way his shirt strained just slightly at the chest when he lifted his arms to adjust his bag. His voice, lower than usual today, probably from nerves, just made the Chinese boy more nervous.

"You’d make a terrifying boss," Donghyuck said with a snort, saving the moment when he realised Chenle was far too gone.

Jisung laughed, "I would make a great boss. I would just make them bring me iced coffee every morning."

"Spoken like a man drunk on five hours of fake power," Jaemin muttered.

Chenle smiled, but his mind was elsewhere. Plunging into a very real, very dangerous thought spiral. Because he felt it. The way he always did. That pull toward Jisung, that sickening blend of longing and familiarity. And now, there was something else too. That’s when it hit him.

The thought was stupid and probably doomed, but it stuck.

He needed Jisung to be his first. And not just in all the innocent, sentimental ways he already had been. He wanted to know what it would feel like. Jisung’s hands, his voice, his weight pressing him into a mattress. His fingers clenched around the strap of his bag as the image hit him so hard it almost made him sway.

Surely their friendship could survive a little hit. Right? Maybe Jaemin’s plan wasn’t as ridiculous as it sounded. Maybe, just maybe, seduction was the answer.

As they walked off together, Chenle glanced back once at Jaemin, who caught his look, winked, and mouthed one word.

"Plot."

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Jisung had been glued to his laptop all afternoon, deep in some project he refused to explain. Something about sound design and needing "absolute silence" as if that was possible with Chenle living three feet away from him.

So Chenle had left. Took a walk. Got bubble tea and spent time with Jaemin. Once Jaemin had left, he wandered around campus just long enough to imagine how good it would feel to flop onto the couch at home and press himself into Jisung’s space. Maybe fall asleep on his shoulder. Maybe pretend it was normal and didn’t drive him crazy

The apartment was quiet when Chenle came back from his walk. Almost way too quiet, like even the sound of his footsteps could disturb Jisung’s focus. It must be serious if he didn’t even have music on. 

He was hunched at the sofa, backlit by the soft, flickering glow of his laptop screen. His headphones were loosely sitting around his neck now. He didn’t even turn when the door clicked shut behind Chenle.

Chenle took his time with his shoes, kicking them off one at a time like he was just stalling. The tension in his chest hadn’t settled since his little strategy session with Jaemin earlier.

"Stop dressing like his brother," Jaemin had said.

"I do not dress like his brother," Chenle had snapped back.

"You wear oversized shirts and fleece shorts, and your idea of foreplay is making fun of his mistakes. If you want him to see you as something other than his annoying best friend, you need to be…"

"Be what?" Chenle had asked

"Touchable. Teasable. Doable."

So here he was, standing in the middle of the apartment, about to gamble his dignity on a threadbare black tank top and shorts that barely reached mid-thigh. He took off his hoodie slowly, deliberately.

It was warm enough inside to justify it, but Chenle still felt the goosebumps as the air hit his bare shoulders.

Nothing. Not a glance.

He walked toward the living room, phone in hand, pretending to scroll while actually watching Jisung out of the corner of his eye. The table lamp threw a golden hue across his cheekbones, highlighting the curve of his nose, the slope of his jaw. Jisung had one hand resting against his temple, fingers buried in his hair. Chenle's heart did something irrational.

He flopped onto the couch, dramatically, letting his limbs spill over the cushions, his tank top inching up just enough to reveal the sliver of his waist.

Still nothing. Chenle stared at the ceiling and sighed loudly. No response.

"I’m bored," he said. Nothing.

"I’m lonely," he added, dragging out the last word.

Jisung finally turned, "You okay?"

"Not really," Chenle said, eyes big, "Neglected. Deprived. Abandoned."

Jisung gave him a look, "You were gone for two hours."

"Yeah, and you didn’t text me once to see if I was dead," Chenle whined.

"You told me you were getting bubble tea."

Chenle shrugged, "I could’ve been kidnapped."

"By whom? The barista?"

"Honestly? Maybe."

Jisung shook his head, but there was a smile at the corner of his mouth. Chenle watched it like a starving man. Then Jisung’s eyes flicked downward, for a second. Just a second. Chenle felt it like a pulse. The way Jisung’s gaze hovered, maybe over his chest, or maybe just the weird fold in his tank top.

"You’re not cold?" Jisung asked, his tone not giving anything away.

"I run hot," Chenle replied, voice light, "You’ve said that before."

"Yeah," Jisung murmured, "I guess."

That was it. The moment. It passed so quickly Chenle couldn’t even be sure it had happened. He sat up straighter, voice a bit more teasing now, "You know, it wouldn’t kill you to hang out with me. Just for a bit."

"I’ve been working," Jisung said, tapping his laptop screen, "This is due tomorrow."

"And you need to take a break. Your projects don’t even turn out that good when you work with so much pressure," Chenle whined. 

"Oh God, save me," Jisung muttered, but he didn’t deny it.

Chenle peeked at him again. His mind was racing now, lit up with the high of maybe being seen. His skin buzzed from how much of it he’d exposed. Shoulders bare, neck exposed, legs stretched across the couch like bait. 

He crossed one leg over the other deliberately, trying to look casual, "You didn’t notice my new shorts. What happened to being each other’s fashion stylist?"

Jisung gave them a glance, "They’re very… short."

Chenle grinned, "That’s the point. Why do you think they’re called shorts?"

A pause. Then Jisung turned back to his laptop, ears slightly pink. Oh, Chenle thought. Oh, there it is. He wasn’t crazy. That was a reaction. He needed to hug Jaemin. 

Eventually, when Jisung finally hit submit, he stood, stretched, and joined Chenle on the couch like it was second nature. Their usual places: Jisung at one end, Chenle at the other, legs overlapping in the middle.

But this time, Chenle scooted closer. Let his thigh rest against Jisung’s. Let his arm graze his bicep.

Jisung didn’t move.He just looked down briefly, at their legs, maybe, and then reached for the remote.

"You wanna watch that drama you like?" he asked.

Chenle blinked, "The one where the heir of one company goes on a trip before his engagement and falls in love with someone he met there?"

"Yeah."

He grinned, "You hate that one."

Jisung shrugged, "You don’t."

Chenle stared at him for a second too long. Then nestled in closer. Let his head fall against Jisung’s shoulder, just lightly. Jisung’s body was warm and broad beside him, and for one dizzying second, Chenle let himself feel it, the size difference, the weight of it, the quiet tension.

Maybe, Jaemin’s plan could work out. But for now, he let the silence carry them. Close enough to feel something.

Far enough for nothing to happen.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ📺ɞ˚‧｡⋆

On Friday night, Chenle should have been studying for his upcoming exam. Instead, he was plotting his plan tonight for a house party. 

He didn’t even want to go, really. Loud music, gross drinks, bodies pressed together in a too-small living room might have been his thing when he was eighteen but now he appreciated it a little less. However Jaemin had insisted and prctically shoved him into his closet and picked out the outfit himself.

"You’re not going to get Jisung’s attention in a red hoodie," Jaemin sighed.

"I like my red hoodie," Chenle defended it by clutching it against his chest. 

Jaemin snatched it from him, "I will burn your red hoodie. We’re aiming for slutty. Trust me."

So Chenle found himself wearing a black mesh shirt that clung to his skin and showed the outline of his collarbones and chest just enough to be unfair. His pants were low-slung, almost indecent, cinched at the waist with a silver chain belt that Jaemin had called "a little whore accessory."

"You look hot," Renjun had said in approval when they met up outside the party, "Like, distractingly hot. Everyone will be looking at you tonight. I think you might cause some breakups."

"Too bad the only person I want to distract is legally blind when it comes to me."

"He’s not blind," Renjun said, "He’s just dumb."

"That’s literally worse."

The party was in full swing when they entered, with the smell of alcohol everywhere and the loud music echoing everywhere. Jisung, as promised, showed up twenty minutes late, hoodie half-zipped, hair still damp from a shower.

Chenle spotted him immediately.

He looked good, not in a "he tried" way, but in that infuriating, natural way that made Chenle want to walk into traffic. Gray t-shirt stretched slightly over his chest, black jeans sitting too low on his hips.he was already heading toward Chenle with that lazy, slow smile that always made his stomach do Olympic-level flips.

"Didn’t think you’d come," Jisung said. 

"I was forced," Chenle said, gesturing to Jaemin, "He threatened to beat me up along with Jeno. And you know how scary that absolutely is."

"I would like to ask if one can avail this service any other time as well… To get you beat up, you know?" Jisung teased but then his gaze flicked down. Over the mesh shirt, the exposed skin, the belt. And he just glanced away immediately. 

"You look…" Jisung started, then stopped himself midway.

Chenle tilted his head, "Yeah?"

"Like a club promoter," Jisung said finally.

"Is that your way of saying I look hot?"

"Didn’t say that."

"But you thought it," Chenle teased.

Jisung rolled his eyes, but his ears were already tinged pink. As the night wore on, the house got more crowded. People spilled out onto the porch. The bass got heavier. Sweat and laughter mixed in the air. Chenle found himself moving through the crowd in a haze of warmth and drink, attention prickling across his skin.

And Jisung wasn’t watching him. Not yet. He was on the couch, deep in conversation with someone from class, long legs stretched out, a beer bottle balanced between his fingers.

So Chenle did something Jaemin would be proud of. He walked into the center of the room, found the edge of the makeshift dance floor, and started to move.

Not with anyone yet. Just by himself, eyes closed, rhythm slow, hips swaying in time with the beat. The mesh clung to his skin with every turn of his body. His hair fell into his eyes. He let himself feel it. The music, the slight buzz in his head, the way his body felt alive under the soft glow of colored lights.

Someone came up behind him, a guy he vaguely recognized from his business class. He slid a hand around his waist. Chenle didn’t stop him. They moved together for a minute, casual, grinding slowly in rhythm. Nothing serious or real, but just showmanship. And then he looked up, straight at Jisung.

Jisung had stopped talking. Eyes locked. Face unreadable. Lips parted just slightly.

Chenle turned back into the movement, letting the guy’s hands wander, just enough to make it a scene. He could feel the flush creeping up his neck, not from embarrassment, but adrenaline. He let himself enjoy it, just enough. And then, a minute later, he stepped away, offered the guy a wink, and slipped back into the kitchen like nothing happened.

He found Jisung there a few minutes later, leaned against the fridge, arms crossed.

"Having fun?" Jisung asked, voice casual. Too casual.

Chenle grabbed a soda from the cooler and cracked it open, "It’s a party. Kinda the point."

"Didn’t know you liked dancing."

"Everyone likes dancing when it’s with the right person."

There was a beat of silence.

"You and that guy seemed…" Jisung started, then trailed off.

Chenle raised a brow, "What? Say it."

"I don’t know. Close. Never saw him hanging out with you before," Jisung said, calculating his words properly.

Chenle took a sip, "Jealous?"

Jisung scoffed, "Of him?"

"Why not?" Chenle asked, "He is really good looking, great physique and everything, and he got me, the great Zhong Chenle, dancing with him… I lowkey have been wanting to check out what the hype around sex is all about. He seems a good choice"

Another pause. 

"I just didn’t think you were the type," Jisung said finally.

"What type?"

"The dancing, flirting, letting-some-guy-grind-on-you type. Having sex with someone who you aren’t in a relationship with, that kinda guy."

Chenle bumped his shoulder lightly against Jisung’s arm, "Relax. It was just a dance and my impulsive thoughts. No need to psychoanalyse me."

"Okay," Jisung replied, but he didn’t seem assured.

"You’re weird tonight."

"No, you’re weird tonight," Jisung muttered, his eyes flicking downwards towards the mesh shirt again. And before Chenle could comment on that, he simply walked out of the room. 

The rest of the night passed in that weird, loaded fog, half glances, awkward silences, shoulders brushing a little too close when they stood side by side. Jisung didn’t say anything more about the dancing, and Chenle didn’t press it.

But later, when they walked home, Jisung pulled his hoodie off and handed it over without a word. Chenle slipped it on, his skin still warm from earlier, and let Jisung’s scent wrap around him.

It felt like a crack in the wall.

And cracks, Chenle knew, had a way of deepening.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ📺ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Chenle had planned every single detail. Of course, with the help of Jaemin who now seemed like a devil on his shoulder. 

The living room was dimly lit, just the soft glow from a lamp in the corner and the flicker of the TV screen. The couch was already piled with cushions and the fluffiest blanket they owned. There were snacks on the table, mostly because Jisung turned into a human vacuum around popcorn and chips.

It was a movie night, something that was supposed to be cmpletely simple, casual and best friend behavior.

Except, this time, Chenle was wearing grey sweatpants very intentionally low on the hips and a white t-shirt that dipped a little too low at the collarbone. He looked cozy but… presentable. He even sprayed cologne. 

"This is the night," Jaemin had said over FaceTime earlier that day, lounging on his bed like an evil strategist, "You get him under a blanket, all warm and comfy, and then bam! Accidental thigh touch or worse. You’re practically seducing him with domesticity."

"He’s not going to notice a thigh touch," Chenle had muttered, biting his lip, "He once held my hand for an hour during a horror movie and thought it was a support gesture."

"Then escalate. Be bold. Put your head on his shoulder. Stretch your legs out. Yawn and cuddle, fiddle with the locket around his neck, I don’t care. Turn the heat up."

"That’s so unrealistic."

"So is being in love with your best friend for years and not doing anything about it, and yet here we are," Jaemin responded and before Chenle could even come up with a response, he had hung up the call already. 

The front door opened with a quiet click, and then Jisung appeared, hair messy from the wind, hoodie half-zipped, cheeks pink from the cold.

"Smells good in here," he said, toeing off his sneakers.

"Yeah, I paid for it using your card," Chenle chuckled. 

Jisung laughed and made a beeline for the couch, collapsing onto it like he hadn’t slept in years. His thigh pressed lightly against Chenle’s. Neither of them moved.

"Pick the movie yet?" he asked. 

"Yeah, I went with a romantic movie. Hope that’s okay," Chenle asked. 

Jisung glanced over, one eyebrow raised, "I thought you said you were done with romantic movies after the rom com drama you were watching pissed you off."

"I swear I am," Chenle whined, "But tonight I wanted to watch something… intimate."

Jisung didn’t question it. Just nodded, leaned back, and let the opening credits roll.

For the first twenty minutes, nothing happened. At least, nothing technically suspicious. They passed the popcorn back and forth. Chenle adjusted the blanket over both of them, careful to let it fall over their knees, their legs flush together. At one point, he shifted to get more comfortable and let his thigh press just a little more firmly into Jisung’s who still didn’t say anything.

God, he’s so dense, Chenle thought, dragging his lip between his teeth. It almost made him laugh. Almost . If it weren’t for the actual ache behind his chest, he might’ve found this hilarious. But in reality, he was trying to play it cool while basically sweating bullets under the blanket.

He turned his face slightly toward Jisung. The glow from the TV flickered across Jisung’s jawline, painting shadows in the curve of his neck, catching the reflection in his glasses. And he just looked so good tonight. Like unfairly good.

He shifted again, pulling the blanket up higher, and in the process let his shoulder press more deliberately into Jisung’s. It wasn’t obvious. Not enough to make Jisung flinch or look over. But enough that Chenle could feel it now. The warmth, the weight, the subtle pull of gravity that always kicked in when they were this close. The kind of closeness that made breathing feel like a task.

Chenle adjusted the blanket slightly. "You’re hogging," he murmured.

"I’m not," Jisung said, without looking away from the screen, "You’re just cold-blooded."

Chenle leaned a little more into his side, "Then warm me up."

"That’s literally what the blanket is for."

"You’re warmer."

That made Jisung pause for a beat. But then he shifted slightly, readjusting how they were sitting and suddenly Chenle found himself practically tucked into his side, his head falling lightly against Jisung’s shoulder. Chenle held perfectly still, too afraid to breathe too loudly.

The heat of Jisung’s body was seeping through every layer of Chenle’s nerves slowly, like it was intoxicating him. He could feel the beat of Jisung’s heart through his shoulder. Could smell him, for god’s sake. It was all too much.

He was hyper aware of the way their thighs touched. There was nothing overtly romantic about any of it and that made it worse. It was too easy. Too normal. Too safe.

And Chenle didn’t want to be safe anymore. He wanted to be seen.

He let his head tilt slightly to the side, brushing Jisung’s shoulder with his temple. "You smell good," he murmured, quiet enough that it could’ve passed as a half-thought.

Jisung didn’t even flinch, "It’s my soap. That eucalyptus one that you earlier said smells weird.."

God, just how dense could Jisung be…. Chenle smiled to himself. "I’ve changed my mind. It suits you."

Jisung turned his head slightly, "You’re acting weird."

The silence stretched again. The only sound was the muted dialogue of the movie and the occasional crunch of chips. Jisung’s hand was close to his again. Almost brushing his hand. Chenle let his pinky shift just enough to graze the side of it.

Neither of them pulled away.

He dared a glance at Jisung who was still staring at the screen. The slope of his nose, the cut of his jaw, the way his collar bone peeked out from under that damn shirt. Chenle swallowed.

"You okay?" Jisung asked suddenly.

Chenle turned, caught, "Huh?"

"You keep fidgeting."

"I’m fine," Chenle paused, "Just thinking."

"About?"

Chenle hesitated, his gaze dropping to Jisung’s mouth before darting away, "You ever think about how some people don’t notice what’s right in front of them until someone slaps them in the face with it?"

Jisung turned his head slowly, blinking, "That’s... specific."

Chenle shrugged, "Just a thought."

"Anyone you wanna slap in particular?" Jisung raised his eyebrow.

Yes. You. Chenle thought to himself before muttering,  "No one is worth the effort right now."

Jisung chuckled, "You’re so weird tonight."

"You say that like I’m not always weird."

"Yeah, but a little more weird tonight. Is there something I should know?"

Chenle leaned in a little closer, until their shoulders were fully flush under the blanket. His voice dropped, "I am just trying to get your attention."

Jisung laughed again, soft and genuine, "You’ve had it all night."

Not the way I want it. Chenle thought that to himself but he didn’t say that. Just let the silence settle again.

The tension was unbearable. It was explosive. Tight under the skin. And the worst part was, Jisung didn’t seem to feel it at all.

God, Chenle thought, he’s so dense.

Chenle hesitated. His voice dropped even lower, barely a whisper now, "You have no idea what you’re doing to me."

"Huh? Come again?" Jisung asked, turning his head fully toward him now.

Chenle laughed, soft and fake, waving him off, "Nothing. Just… talking to myself."

Jisung nodded absently and leaned back, turning toward the screen again like it was nothing. But Chenle? He kept replaying Jisung’s words,"Come again."

Yeah, that’s exactly what he wants Jisung to say to him. 

Just in a different position. With fewer clothes. And a lot less space between them. 

⋆｡‧˚ʚ📺ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Chenle was halfway through stealing one of Jisung’s hoodies when the bathroom door swung open with a soft click, and a cloud of steam rolled out like something cinematic.

And then there was Jisung. A towel around his waist, another in his hand, damp hair sticking to his forehead. Drops of water still trailed down his chest, over his collarbones, gliding past his ribs before vanishing into the waistband of the towel. 

Chenle blinked once. Then again. God was clearly testing his patience this week.

Jisung looked up and seemed vaguely surprised, "Didn’t hear you come in."

Chenle cleared his throat, "Yeah. Clearly."

Jisung rubbed a towel through his hair lazily, steam still clinging to his skin. He didn’t make any move to cover up. Just stood there, like this was perfectly normal like Chenle didn’t feel the room tilt slightly off-balance.

"You okay?" Jisung asked, tossing the hand towel onto his bed.

"Sure. Fine," Chenle turned toward the dresser like it suddenly required his full attention, "Just forgot you were practicing nudism this week."

Jisung chuckled quietly, "You’ve seen me in swim shorts. This isn’t that different."

Chenle made a vague noise. Swim shorts didn’t ride quite that low. Or cling. Or come with post-shower skin and the scent of Lemon shampoo.

He busied himself with tugging a blue hoodie from the back of the almirah, fingers fussing with the fabric like it needed folding, "Was just grabbing this. Didn’t mean to intrude on your... exhibition."

"Uh-huh," Jisung said behind him. He could hear the smile in his voice, "Convenient timing, though."

Chenle scoffed, "You think I am interested in seeing you like this? Ew."

Jisung didn’t answer right away. There was a creak of the wooden pane as Jisung leaned against it, "I’m not saying you did," he said lightly, "But if you had, I wouldn’t blame you."

Chenle rolled his eyes, hoodie slung over one arm now, "Someone’s full of themselves."

"No. Just saying." Jisung leaned back, long legs stretched out in front of him, "Wouldn’t be the worst sight to walk in on."

Chenle laughed, a little forced, a little too airy, "Yeah, well, you’ve got that humble charm."

"And you’re still looking," Jisung chuckled. 

Chenle turned his back quickly, pretending to fuss with the hoodie again, "Force of habit. I look at dumb things all the time. Can you put on some pants? One wrong toss and I am going to have nightmares."

Jisung only grinned, stretching a little wider across the bed like he heard an entirely different sentence, "Nightmares, huh? That's not what your face says."

Chenle turned just enough to shoot him a glare, "Don't make me punch you, Jisung."

"You’re very violent."

"You're very shirtless," Chenle shot back.

"And you're very bothered by it," Jisung replied smoothly, a little too smug.

Chenle narrowed his eyes, "You know, I think you’ve gotten cockier since you started going to the gym."

"Oh?" Jisung ran a hand down his chest, slow and exaggerated, before smirking, "Is it working?"

"You’re disgusting."

"And yet, you’re staring."

"I’m judging."

Jisung hummed, the sound low and lazy as he shifted back onto his elbows, "You judge best with your mouth hanging open, huh? I am scared you will start drooling."

Chenle scoffed, cheeks heating, though he played it off with a light laugh, "You’re really enjoying this."

"You’re fun to mess with."

"I’m fun in general."

"Debatable," Jisung said, "But the way you’re acting tonight? Kinda makes me wanna keep going."

Chenle turned toward him fully now, hoodie still clutched in hand, "Keep going?"

"You know. Teasing you," Jisung’s grin widened, eyes glinting, "You’re more entertaining than usual."

Chenle shook his head, trying to hide his smile as he sat on the desk chair, spinning it slightly with his toe, "God, how do people date you? Like, seriously. Do you warn them first?"

"I don’t have to," Jisung said, "They usually like it."

Chenle glanced at him, catching the image of his collarbones and the way his arms looked when he braced them on the wall.

He spun the chair again, "Well, I’m immune to your charms."

"Oh really?" Jisung crossed his arms, his biceps flexing and voice dipping, "You sure about that, Lele?"

Chenle refused to let his breath hitch. "Positive."

"Cause the way you’re blushing says otherwise."

Chenle scoffed, "I’m warm. Your post-shower steam turned this room into a sauna. Try taking short showers, Jisung. Water bill is not a joke"

Jisung chuckled, low and teasing, and leaned back again, "You should join me next time then. Save time, money and water.."

Chenle choked, "What the fuck? Are you hearing yourself?"

"Just trying to be efficient."

"That’s not,what... hat’s not how showers work, Ji."

"Well, technically , " Jisung began, as if he was in an academic conference, "there’s a very long and historic precedent for saving water and time through communal bathing."

"Stop talking."

"I’m just saying, if you ever need a demonstration…"

"God," Chenle said, slapping a hand over his face, "You need to get laid."

There was a pause. Then Jisung snorted, "Shit. You’re probably right. Look at me, making all these dumb jokes with you out of all the people."

Chenle stopped spinning, "What is that supposed to mean?"

Jisung shrugged, something about his smile turning sheepish, "You know what I mean. It’s been a while."

Chenle leaned forward, arms draped over his knees, "No, not that part. The one where you said ‘me out of all the people.’"

Jisung blinked at him, surprised, "It’s not… It’s just…"

"We’re best friends," Chenle filled in for him.

Jisung nodded once, "Exactly. We’re not that kind of best friends. Never have been."

Chenle let the words settle. The word he hated so much. He nodded slowly, "Right. Except for the one time I kissed you."

He regretted it immediately. Jisung’s eyes widened and the air changed.

"You weren’t supposed to hear that," Chenle added, weakly.

Jisung didn’t say anything at first. He just looked at him, blinking like something behind his eyes had shifted into place, "Yeah, you kissed me. When we were thirteen. I thought we weren’t allowed to bring it up ever again."

Chenle forced a laugh, "Yeah, because it was a stupid thing. We were kids."

Jisung was quiet for a moment. Then he huffed out a small laugh, "You stole my first kiss."

Chenle’s voice softened, "Would you rather have had it with someone else?"

Jisung looked at him for a long time. The kind of look that said he was genuinely considering the answer. But he didn’t say anything. 

Chenle stood, grabbing his hoodie off the bed. He crossed the room, heart thudding, fingers curled tight into the fabric. Just before he reached the door, he glanced over his shoulder. Jisung was still watching him.

Chenle smiled, "Good night, Jisung. Sleep well." 

He knew Jisung wouldn’t be able to sleep after that. 

⋆｡‧˚ʚ📺ɞ˚‧｡⋆

The dorm was quiet. Too quiet for a Friday night, when usually all the friends gathered and chatted till four am. On any normal Friday night, Donghyuck and Mark would have usually filled the common area with their terrible attempts at karaoke or some chaotic new board game that no one asked for. 

But tonight, they'd left earlier, laughing about staying over at Mark’s place. Renjun and Jeno had bailed too, muttering about deadlines and upcoming tests. Jaemin had joined them and before closing the door, he had winked at Chenle. 

Chenle had planned for tonight. Just him, Jisung and the unspoken thing that had been clawing its way up between them for months now.

He was curled into the corner of the couch, wearing Jisung’s hoodie with its sleeves too long, the hem skimming his thighs, hiding the pair of black sleep shorts he’d pulled on underneath. He knew how he looked. Casual, effortless. Just enough skin. 

Jisung on the other hand looked tired but not in the way Chenle usually saw. He was physically here, sure, in those black sweats and that oversized black tee, hair still damp from a post-gym shower. But there was something taut about the way he moved tonight. He looked too tense as he dropped onto the other end of the sofa with a heavy sigh, remote flipping through Netflix without purpose. 

"You okay?" Chenle asked, letting his voice stay light, almost lazy, as he tucked his knees under himself.

Jisung didn’t look at him, "Just thinking."

"That’s a first."

Jisung gave him a sideways glare, but it was faint, "Funny."

Chenle smiled and kept watching him from the corner of his eye. The flex in Jisung’s forearms as he toyed with the remote. The veins tracing down his wrist. The sharp line of his jaw when he chewed the inside of his cheek in thought.

"You’ve been tense lately," Chenle said, stretching out a little more, arching his back with a lazy, casual movement that wasn’t casual at all, "Are you gonna tell me what’s going on or do I have to guess?"

"Nothing’s going on."

"Liar."

Jisung finally turned to him fully, "Why do you always say that like you want something to be going on? Can’t a guy lead a boring, plain life?"

"Because," Chenle said, pausing, letting the pause stretch just enough to be noticed, "It’s more fun when something’s happening."

"Sure," Jisung mumbled, flatly.

Chenle let the silence simmer again before asking, "So what were you thinking about?"

Jisung didn’t answer immediately. His eyes flickered to Chenle’s legs, just barely visible beneath the hem of his hoodie. Then away. "Stuff."

"That’s descriptive."

Jisung groaned and let his head fall back against the couch, "It’s not that deep."

Chenle leaned over, just a little, "You’re such a bad liar. When you lie, your ears go red."

"They do not."

"They do." He reached out and flicked the tip of Jisung’s ear, "See? Red."

Jisung caught his wrist easily, fingers circling around it, not tightly, but enough to still Chenle’s movement. His hand was so much larger, calloused from years of dancing, and Chenle felt the warmth of it shoot up his arm like a pulse. Jisung mumbled, "Stop doing that."

"What?" Chenle asked, letting his voice drop just slightly, "Being annoying?"

Jisung didn’t answer. His hand lingered, a little too long. Chenle stared down at it, then up at Jisung’s face. The tension in his jaw. Before he could say anything, Jisung let go.

There was a pause again. No other conversation took place between them for the next fifteen minutes. Just the soft click of Chenle’s own thumb nervously dragging across his screen and the subtle, infuriating tick of the analog clock on the wall. Chenle’s phone kept pinging with notifications, and when it became the only constant noise in the room, Jisung finally turned towards him.

"I’m texting Donghyuck," Chenle spoke, sinking deeper into the cushions and grabbing his phone, "Telling him he should come back and bring Mark. They’re gross but at least they’re entertaining."

Jisung made a face, "Why do you always say they’re gross? You love them."

"I do. I just simply get jealous of them flaunting their relationship all the time. I want what they have."

There was a beat of silence. Chenle didn’t look up, "I want someone to baby me like that. I want someone who’ll spoil me just because they’re obsessed with how cute I am. Mark treats Donghyuck like he hung the moon."

Jisung’s voice was quieter when he asked, "And you think you don’t have anyone like that?"

"I have you," Chenle smiled down at his phone, "But you’re not that kind of best friend. You’re more like… the ‘punch me on the shoulder and bully me until I cry’ kind. Plus, I am talking about a boyfriend here, not a friend."

Jisung huffed, "I don’t bully you."

"Sure. When was the last time you even called me cute? Admit it, Ji, you’re not that kind of best friend." His voice was teasing, but it carried something sharper underneath. Jisung heard it. Chenle saw him go still again.

"Maybe I should ask someone out," Chenle added, thumb scrolling over his phone screen like he wasn’t waiting for a reaction, "There’s that guy in my economics class who asked for my number. I think I might say yes next time."

Jisung didn’t speak.

"Unless you think that’s a bad idea," Chenle pushed.

Silence. And then finally, Jisung’s voice, low and heavy, "You should do whatever you want."

Chenle clicked his phone off, letting it fall to the side, "You’re so annoying when you’re trying not to say something."

"I’m not trying not to say anything."

"You think I should date someone else?"

"I think…" Jisung turned his head, eyes locked on Chenle’s, "You’re allowed to. I’m not stopping you."

Chenle stared at him, his breath shallow, "You’re so fucking careful with your words lately."

"Whatever that is supposed to mean," Jisung mumbled. 

Jisung just sat there, completely still, letting Chenle’s words hang in the silence like smoke. And Chenle could feel it, that shift in the air. That tight, stretched wire between them finally trembled from the strain.

Jisung’s tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, slow and thoughtless. Chenle’s gaze followed it without meaning to. "I’m not careful," Jisung said again, quieter this time, "I just know what lines not to cross."

Chenle tilted his head, "You think there are lines between us? After a decade of friendship?"

"That is exactly why there should be lines between us."

"But there aren’t."

Jisung looked at him for a second too long, "That’s exactly why it’s dangerous."

Chenle let out a quiet breath of laughter and stretched again, arms up over his head, the hoodie riding up just barely, exposing a sliver of bare waist. He saw Jisung’s eyes flicker down before jerking away like they’d been caught. Like the sight of Chenle’s skin was too much. Like it meant something.

"You act like we’re in some kind of soap opera," Chenle said, "But all I did was mention going on a date and you froze like I pulled a knife on you."

"I didn’t freeze."

"You always freeze when it’s about me lately."

"You’re not-" Jisung started, then cut himself off with a short exhale, "You’re not easy to be around sometimes."

"Oh?" Chenle sat up a little, crawling closer along the sofa, "That sounds like an insult."

"It’s not."

"Then what is it?"

"It’s…" Jisung’s voice was strained, "It’s hard not to think about things I shouldn’t be thinking about when you’re like this."

"Like what?"

"Like-" Jisung shut his mouth.

Chenle was close now. Not touching him, but almost. His knee brushed Jisung’s thigh as he adjusted his position, just the faintest pressure. His hair was falling into his eyes, and he didn’t bother to push it back. "Tell me what you’re thinking about," he said softly.

Jisung’s jaw tensed. His fingers curled into fists in his lap.

"Come on." Chenle leaned in, voice barely more than a whisper, "You said you think about things. Just tell me one."

Jisung didn’t move. Didn’t even blink.

So Chenle smiled, slow and deliberate, and said, "You know, it’s kinda funny."

"What?"

"You’re all limbs and height and muscle and you still act like I could knock you over with a smile."

Jisung finally looked at him. Really looked at him. And there was something raw there, something edged with hunger and restraint and frustration all tangled into one.

"Maybe you could."

Chenle’s stomach flipped. He didn’t let it show. He just raised an eyebrow, "That supposed to scare me?"

"It should." 

"Doesn’t."

Jisung’s voice dipped lower, "That’s the problem."

For a second, neither of them spoke.

And then slowly, Jisung leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, face turned just enough toward Chenle that their shoulders almost brushed. "You have been doing this a lot, lately," he said, voice low and unsteady.

"What have I done?"

"Push and push and push until I’m the one who has to hold it all back."

Chenle didn’t answer. His eyes were locked on Jisung’s lips now, tracing every syllable. He didn’t answer but he shifted closer again, the air growing hotter with every inch between them that disappeared. His thigh was now pressed against Jisung’s. And this close, he could feel the tension in Jisung’s body, the way his breath had grown uneven, the slight tremor in his hand as he clenched his jaw tighter. He smirked, "You’re trying so hard not to touch me."

"You have no idea," Jisung whispered.

"I think I do."

He let the hoodie slip a little down his shoulder, pretending it was just an incident, his skin brushing along Jisung’s arm.

"I can practically feel you thinking about it," Chenle said.

Jisung sighed and stood up, as if he had to take a break from this conversation. He was headed towards his room, when Chenle stood up, realising he cannot let this opportunity slip up or else he would go insane. He followed him and yelled, "You cannot leave after saying all that, Jisung."

Jisung stopped walking and Chenle stumbled into him, surprised by the force of it. Jisung turned back and by how close they were now, Chenle had to tilt his chin up to look at him. He opened his mouth to say something, but Jisung had already taken a step forward and Chenle had nowhere to go with his back hitting the wall and breath caught in his throat. 

Jisung wasn’t touching him, not really. His hands were at his sides, clenched, but he was standing so close that every inch of Chenle’s body could feel him. The heat. The size difference. The sharp, overwhelming pull towards him.

Chenle’s mouth went dry.

"You really want to do this" Jisung asked

Chenle gave him a smile, as if he hadn’t been planning this for weeks, "I’d love to."

Jisung leaned forward, one hand bracing the wall beside Chenle’s head. His breath was warm against Chenle’s cheek. "But you said we were best friends," he murmured.

"I did."

"We’re not supposed to want each other like this."

Chenle tilted his head, lips brushing against Jisung’s jaw as he whispered, "And who made this rule?"

 Jisung’s breath hitched, like Chenle had pressed something dangerous right beneath his ribs. He was still caging Chenle against the wall, one hand planted beside his head, body looming close, so close that their chests were almost brushing. Chenle tilted his chin slightly, as if daring Jisung to close the last inch. His voice stayed light, but his eyes didn’t lie. 

"Jisung," he said slowly, teasing, "You’ve been staring at my mouth for like… thirty seconds."

"I haven’t."

"You have."

"Chenle"

"I’m just saying," Chenle’s tongue flicked out to wet his bottom lip, slow and deliberate, "If I’m gonna start charging you every time you look at me like that, you’ll be broke in a week."

"You don’t play fair," Jisung said, voice gravel now.

"Neither do you."

"I swear to god," Jisung whispered, "I am trying so hard to be good right now."

"And I’m trying so hard to make you fail," Chenle murmured, honest and reckless, eyes wide and shining with something deeper, "Is it working, Jisung?"

Jisung didn’t answer. His hands dropped to Chenle’s hips before he could stop himself, fingers digging in just enough to draw a gasp. "Fuck," he muttered, and then leaned close enough for his breath to graze Chenle’s cheek.,"You drive me crazy."

Chenle swallowed. "Good."

That was all it took.

Jisung kissed him like it was a mistake he’d been dying to make. Deep, rough, and completely unsteady. There was no hesitation now, just heat and the collision of months of buried feelings, desperation, and the throb of wanting someone too much for too long. Chenle gasped against his mouth, hands gripping at Jisung’s shirt like he needed something to ground him. Jisung kissed him harder.

The way their mouths moved, it wasn’t perfect. It was too messy, too much teeth, but it felt real. Like letting out a scream they'd both been holding in. Jisung pushed his tongue into his mouth with a sound that made Chenle’s stomach twist. His grip around Chenle’s waist tightened, pulling him in so tightly their chests were flush, and Chenle could feel every breath, every stutter of Jisung’s pulse through the thin fabric.

"You don’t know how long I waited for this," Chenle whispered, biting down on Jisung’s bottom lip and pulling gently. 

"Fuck, I have been too oblivious. Haven’t I?" 

Chenle pouted, "Yeah, and you have to make up for the lost time."

His back hit the wall again as Jisung leaned in, chest heaving. The kiss turned rougher with no space left between them, their teeth clashing slightly before it melted back into something slower, deeper. Jisung’s tongue swept across Chenle’s lip again, and Chenle let him in with a whimper he didn’t mean to make.

Jisung pulled back just enough to look at him. His eyes were darker than Chenle had ever seen them, wild and soft all at once. His thumb traced the older’s bottom lip like he was memorizing it.

"You okay?" Jisung whispered, voice barely there.

Chenle nodded, eyes fluttering open, "More than okay."

He didn’t even realize they were moving until Jisung tugged him away from the wall, mouth never quite leaving his skin, lips brushing along his cheekbone, grazing the corner of his mouth, down to the edge of his jaw. The low sound Jisung made when Chenle let out a breathy moan against his ear was not even remotely appropriate.

He just grabbed Chenle’s wrist firmly and walked him backward, pushing the door to his room open with one hand, not even turning on the light. 

Chenle opened his mouth to say something, probably to tease him but then he was being pushed. Not too roughly but just enough to make him stumble backward, fall onto the bed with a startled laugh that turned into a choked breath when Jisung climbed over him.

Jisung braced a hand next to his head and hovered there, eyes dark, chest heaving, hair falling slightly into his eyes, "You’re so pretty, Lele."

He leaned down, and their mouths met again, slower this time but so much deeper. Chenle sighed against him, hips shifting slightly beneath the press of Jisung’s weight. And Jisung felt it. His entire body tensed for a second before he kissed Chenle again, harder this time. Like he needed every inch of him and didn’t know where to begin.

One of Jisung’s hands slid under the hem of Chenle’s shirt, palm flat against the warm skin of his stomach. Chenle jolted at the touch, gasping into the kiss, because Jisung’s hands were so big, they nearly spanned the whole width of his waist. It was unfair. All of it. The weight of him, the way he loomed without even trying, how Chenle felt smaller, pinned, and yet so safe.

"You’re burning up," Jisung muttered against his neck, voice so low it sent shivers down Chenle’s spine.

"Maybe if you stopped manhandling me," Chenle whispered, breathless.

"You like it," Jisung shot back, and his teeth grazed Chenle’s throat lightly, not quite biting, but close enough to make the older’s back arch.

"Maybe I do," Chenle gasped, "Do something about it. Please."

That broke something open in Jisung. He gripped Chenle’s waist tighter and shifted so he was fully between his legs now, leaning over him like he was claiming him, like he was tired of pretending any of this was innocent. Their kisses turned desperate again, messy and consuming, hands roaming now, up shirt hems, over bare sides, tangled in hair. Chenle couldn’t stop the soft sounds he kept making.  Every time Jisung kissed him deeper, Chenle’s fingers curled tighter into his shirt, his breath hitching in his throat.

"You drove me crazy this past month," Jisung murmured suddenly, forehead resting against Chenle’s, "Fuck, I kept imagining this."

"Then make it real," Chenle said, voice cracking at the edges, "I’m right here."

"Chenle," Jisung said softly, his voice low and almost unsteady, "Are you sure you want your first to be with me?"

Chenle blinked up at him, chest rising and falling beneath Jisung’s hand "Are you serious?"

Jisung gave a tiny shrug, gaze flicking between Chenle’s eyes and mouth, "It’s not nothing. You’ve never done this before, and I just..."

"There’s no one else I’d rather have it with," Chenle interrupted, voice breathy as he stared back at Jisung with almost teary eyes, "You are my first friend. My first kiss. First crush. First heartbreak."

Something in Jisung stuttered. His fingers dug just a little deeper into Chenle’s waist as he processed that, the weight of all that vulnerability laid out for him so effortlessly. "I’m never going to recover from that sentence," he muttered, his forehead dropping to Chenle’s shoulder.

Chenle smiled, hand sliding up to curl in Jisung’s hair, "Then please don’t. But I really need you to do something now…"

Whatever thread of restraint Jisung had left finally snapped. "God, you’re so fucking good at this," he breathed, dragging his mouth down Chenle’s chest, "You act so smug, always running your mouth, always pushing my buttons."

Chenle gasped, fingers tightening in Jisung’s shirt, "You like it."

"Yeah, I do," Jisung said, "I like how desperate you get when I finally give you what you’ve been begging for without saying it."

He slid a hand under Chenle’s shirt again, palm pressed flat against his left nipple as he sucked on the right one, "You’re so easy to read. It’s pathetic how much you want me."

Chenle’s hips jerked slightly, face burning at the words, but he didn’t push him away. He pulled him closer.

Jisung smirked, leaning down to kiss just beneath Chenle’s ear while his hand twisted his nipple, "You like being talked to like that, don’t you? Want me to tell you how needy you are? How good you look underneath me?"

Chenle let out a broken sound, biting his lip, eyes half-lidded and dazed.

"That’s what I thought," Jisung murmured. Chenle couldn’t speak. He could barely think with the weight of Jisung’s voice in his ear like it was seeping straight into his skin. And then he felt it.

 Jisung's hand splayed over his lower back, the other cradling his jaw. The size difference had never been more obvious, and somehow, never more intoxicating. Chenle wasn't small by any means, but next to Jisung, he felt completely enveloped  in the best possible way.

Jisung pulled away for a second to take off Chenle’s hoodie, shorts and boxers, before the said boy tugged at his own shirt, leading him to take it off too. His gaze roamed over Chenle’s flushed face, his parted lips, the dazed look in his eyes,"You look so fucking good like this,"

"Like what?" Chenle asked, breathless.

"Ruined," Jisung said, brushing his thumb along his cheekbone, "You haven’t even been touched properly yet, and you already look like you could fall apart."

"Jisung, if you don’t do anything now, I will just do it myself," Chenle spoke with the remaining strength he had. 

"That would make a good show, baby," Jisung tugged at Chenle’s hair, pulling him backwards, "But you have to wait. Good things take time."

"I’m not going to be gentle with you just because it’s your first," Jisung teased, knowing damn well his soft spot for Chenle would never let him be too rough in the first place.

Chenle sat up, smirking despite the heat in his cheeks, "Are you all bark and no bite, Jisung? Because it’s been twenty minutes and you seem scared to do more."

"God forbid, a man tries to make it slow and special for his best friend," Jisung mocked, the words sounding like venom on his tongue as well, "Now be a good boy and lay down for me, baby?"

The words knocked the air from Chenle’s lungs.

Jisung’s hand slid down the front of Chenle’s body like he wanted to claim every inch of it as he kissed his collarbone roughly, leaving marks that would turn purple by dawn, "You’re so fucking obedient when you want to be," he muttered.

"You’re gonna take everything I give you, yeah?" Jisung whispered against his lips.

Chenle nodded, breathless, "Yes."

"Louder, baby. We pay all this rent for good walls for a reason."

"Yes, Jisung," Chenle whined, on the verge of tears if Jisung didn’t do anything now.

 He pushed his hands towards Jisung’s hair who had finally started to massage his thighs and leave hickeys on them, but the younger one grabbed them with one hand and gestured towards the handrail, "Keep them there, baby."

Chenle obeyed, and Jisung chuckled, the vibration going straight to his dick, "Fuck, Chenle. Look at you. You are always talking about such a big game when you’re with me, and now you cannot say anything. Not really so bold, huh?"

"I am still the bold one," Chenle breathed, though his voice wobbled.

"Oh?" Jisung mocked as he finally touched Chenle where he needed it the most, leading him to moan and wither in shock. 

"Hold still for me, sweetheart," he warned as he clutched his left thigh in one place, stopping him from moving while the right one continued to lazily stroke his cock. 

The pet-name burned in Chenle’s skin. Jisung increased the speed of his strokes, "You crave this, don’t you? A little attention and you melt. Always acting loud, but one touch and you forget every comeback."

Chenle bit down on a gasp, half-protest, half-admission. 

"Colour, Lele?"

"Green," Chenle whispered. He had read enough smut to know what Jisung meant. He was a virgin, sure. But he wasn’t innocent by any means. 

"Pass me the lube and condom from the third drawer," Jisung gestured towards the side-table. Chenle immediately got to work and pulled the bottle of lube and packet of condoms. 

Jisung chuckled, "You’re so fucking needy, Chenle. Fuck, so desperate…"

Tears had pooled in Chenle's eyes. "Please…" he breathed, his voice barely audible but thick with need. He didn’t want to sound so desperate, but every inch of him was on fire, aching for more, for Jisung. 

Jisung smirked, his hands squirting a generous amount of lube on his fingers that encircled around Chenle’s hole but still not quite giving him what he wanted. "Say it," he murmured, voice so smooth and playful, "Beg for it, Chenle. You know you want to."

A wave of frustration crashed over Chenle. He wanted to remain in the rebellious character, and wanted to resist this feeling of helplessness. But Jisung’s words, his presence, it was all too much. He was getting lost, drowning in it. And then it slipped out. "Please," he gasped, his voice trembling with the weight of the word, "Please, Jisung… It’s getting too much, I… I am so… Fuck, please, I need you."

And with that, Jisung finally pushed a finger in. It was so long and stretched him open already as he moaned and shook violently, with only Jisung’s iron grip on his waist holding him properly. 

"How does it feel, baby?" Jisung asked, his voice soothing as he pressed a kiss against his abdomen. 

"Weird," Chenle whispered, "Really weird… But keep going."

Jisung pushed another finger in, the stretch hurting Chenle a little this time who arched his back and muffled his scream using the pillow. Jisung slowly moved them, in and out, and slowly, the weird pain started to morph into something different. Into pleasure. He had started to moan softly, as Jisung scissored his fingers back and forth, hitting a particular spot again and again that made Chenle curl his toes. 

"Fuck, baby. You’re doing so good for me, Lele. Such a good boy for me," Jisung whispered, bringing up his free hand to slowly stroke his dick. Chenle threw his head back, whimpering and shaking, as he felt the heat in his stomach bubble up so much, he felt like he was going to explode. 

"Jisung…" he whispered, "I think I am… I am going to… Fuck, Oh God."

"Are you going to cum, baby?" Jisung asked, just increasing the pace of his fingers and the stroke of his hand. Chenle swore he was seeing stars, with his vision blurring into nothingness and body shaking with a wave of pleasure he had never experienced before. 

And then Chenle finally felt the heat of an orgasm hit him. Sure, he had experienced it multiple times before with the help of his own hands and Jisung’s visuals in his imagination, but absolutely nothing compared to this. Jisung had removed his hand from his dick now, but continued to push his fingers in and out of him. 

"Fuck," Chenle whispered, "That was… insane."

"Yeah?" Jisung chuckled, "You’re going to let me fuck you now?"

Chenle nodded. The truth was, he would let Jisung do anything to him. He had spent years thinking about this moment and everything that led up to it. The countless nights where he had touched himself, moaning Jisung’s name in hushed whispers like it would forever remain just a dirty secret. 

"Words, Lele," Jisung spoke, hovering over him and pressing a few kisses against his jaw.

"Y-yeah, Jisung. Please fuck me," Chenle whispered, bringing his hands together to hold Jisung’s face before pressing a small kiss on his lips. 

Jisung broke into a small, genuine, smile before he brought his hand towards Chenle’s jaw and poked his fingers on his lips, before finally pushing them in. Chenle’s hands fisted into the sheets as he calmed himself down, slowly sucking and twirling his tongue around the length of Jisung’s fingers. He choked and Jisung didn’t do anything but stare at him down with that condescending, half lidded gaze. 

"You’re doing so good, Lele," Jisung whispered before pulling his fingers out, a string of saliva dropping from Chenle’s lips, "Repeat the same, alright? Just around my cock, now."

Chenle sat up slowly. In his imagination, he had done this over a hundred times. But now, the fact that he actually had to do it sent both a wave of adrenaline down his body and anxiety.

Jisung leaned against the headboard, slowly taking off his pants and boxers and Chenle swore his eyes widened. Sure, Jisung was way taller, with bigger hands and chest. But he absolutely hadn’t expected just how big Jisung was in this particular area. He cussed mentally, how is he ever going to take that?

Chenle positioned himself between the younger’s legs, wrapping his hand around Jisung’s dick. His hand was so small in comparison that the sheer size difference made heat pool around his stomach. He slowly started stroking it, mimicking Jisung’s actions from earlier. His hand was a little awkward, but a small gasp from Jisung’s mouth made him want to be a little more confident in his touch. 

"Chenle baby, are you trying to kill me? Do something, sweetheart. Put that mouth of yours to use, huh?" Jisung spoke, tugging at the older’s hair. 

Chenle inhaled and hollowed out his cheeks before finally wrapping his lips around Jisung’s dick, bobbing his head and using his hand to stroke the part. The sound of him gagging and choking earned groans from Jisung. His tear-stained cheeks stared up at Jisung who suddenly pushed his head deeper. 

Jisung moaned, pushing him deeper and Chenle swore that was the hottest sound he had ever heard. He left sloppy kisses against Jisung’s dick, leaving a trail of kitten licks and twirling his tongue around the head of it. 

The younger pulled his head away, "Fuck, baby, I think am going to go insane if I don’t fuck you." With that, he smoothly switched their positions, with Chenle being underneath him again. 

Jisung tore the condom open, wrapping it around his length slowly and then pouring a generous amount of lube around it. Chenle shivered and gulped, "Jisung… It’s not going to fit."

"We’ll make it fit, baby," Jisung leaned down and kissed him slowly, "And you will take it like a good boy, yeah?" 

Chenle absent-mindedly nodded and at that very moment, Jisung finally pushed the tip in, and swallowed Chenle’s gasp with a kiss so deep and sensual, the older felt like he was going to lose his mind. 

"Ji, fuck, fuck, too much," he withered in pain, holding onto Jisung’s broad shoulders. 

"Do you want to stop, baby?" Jisung asked, caressing his cheek with his left hand, the other braced on the headboard, supporting his weight to avoid crushing Chenle. 

"No, no, no," Chenle immediately shook his head, earning a chuckle, "Just give me a second."

There was a pause for a second, where Jisung just stared at him lovingly, softly massaging his thighs. Chenle gulped, "Yeah, move now."

Jisung slowly moved, in and out, feeling Chenle’s nails dig deeply at his back. Surely, that would leave some scratches by morning. But that didn’t matter. Nothing did as far as Chenle was concerned. The said boy was in a state of complete haze, and hooked one leg around Jisung’s waist, creating an even better angle. 

Jisung slowly increased his pace as Chenle’s cries of pain transitioned into moans and whimpers due to pleasure. His chest was heaving with tension, as he slowly wrapped his hand around Chenle’s neck, putting just enough pressure on it to make him choke a little. 

Chenle struggled to breathe, his back arching as Jisung hit his prostate. He felt overstimulated as tears kept rolling down his cheeks and he felt his body go completely faint, letting Jisung handle him however he wanted. 

"Fuck, you’re so tight and warm baby, just for me," Jisung whispered, his eyes closing in pleasure as he threw his head back. 

"Just for you," Chenle whispered back with the remaining strength he had in him. The words lit up something in Jisung who retracted his hand and then pulled the older’s leg over his right shoulder, thrusting even harder. Chenle was convinced he wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow.

 "Sweetheart, you’re made for me," Jisung groaned, and Chenle couldn’t believe his ears. He never believed he would actually get to hear his best friend say those words outside of his imagination.

Chenle whimpered, "Jisung… Ji, ah fuck, I am going to cum, again."

"Me too, baby," Jisung responded, his thrusts getting slower and languid. "You’re so fucking pretty like this," he muttered, "Squirming and moaning. So pretty, all for me. I can’t let you go after this baby, I fear I would have to make you mine."

That word. Mine . It wrecked something in Chenle.

"I have always been yours," he whispered, too quietly for even himself to fully believe he said it.

But Jisung heard. And instead of teasing, he stilled. Then he kissed him again, slower this time, deeper. Less teasing, more reverent.

The second orgasm hit Chenle even harder than the first, which he thought was impossible. Jisung continued to thrust inside him, before his shoulders slumped and he reached his climax too with a loud groan.

"Fuck, that was crazy," he whispered, as he slumped next to Chenle, wrapping an arm around his waist as they both tried to calm down and catch their breaths. There was complete silence and stillness for a few minutes, and then Chenle turned around, to see Jisung staring at him with half lidded eyes and a small smirk. 

"Don’t look at me like that," Chenle muttered, voice hoarse, raw at the edges, "Like you didn’t just fuck me like that."

Jisung let out a soft, amused exhale. The sound felt too light for how heavy his chest was, "You say that like it’s a bad thing."

Chenle’s eyes sparkled and it hit Jisung then. How far they had come from stolen glances and too-long hugs and banter that was always just a little too sharp. This wasn’t some fleeting accident. This was something inevitable.

Jisung swallowed, his throat tight, "You’re not gonna regret this tomorrow, right?" He hated how cautious he sounded, but he couldn’t help it. The thought of waking up to Chenle pulling away, of pretending nothing happened, twisted something in his gut.

"What?" Chenle blinked at him, startled by the softness. There was a beat of silence. And then he gave Jisung a look that was impossibly gentle. "You’re an idiot," he said simply. "I’ve been in love with you since you asked me if I wanted the last chicken nugget back when we were thirteen"

Jisung blinked, "That is… so weirdly specific."

Chenle rolled his eyes, grinning now, "You say that, but I said no back then so you could have it. That was a real sacrifice."

Jisung stared at him, still a little dazed, still catching up. It felt like the world tilted a little to the left, like gravity shifted, and suddenly, he was seeing the past through a different lens. All the times Chenle laughed a little too hard at his jokes, offered him the last slice of pizza, stared at him a little too long and all the little flirtatious comments in between. 

“You have liked me since we’re thirteen?” he asked, blinking. 

“Yeah,” Chenle whispered, admiring the look on Jisung’s face. 

Jisung exhaled, a soft, incredulous laugh leaving his chest, “No way.”

“What, is it that hard to believe?” Chenle replied, still annoyingly composed, still touching Jisung’s face so softly like he hadn’t just detonated a small emotional bomb in the room.

“I thought you were just… flirty. You’re like that with everyone.”

Chenle shrugged one shoulder, his voice quieter now, “Not the same. You… always kind of had me.”

Jisung let that settle for a moment. He’d never been good with feelings, but something about this, about Chenle, made it feel less terrifying and more inevitable.

“You’re serious,” he said, and it wasn’t a question anymore.

Chenle smiled, “I wouldn’t be saying it if I wasn’t.”

They were quiet again, the air thick with something electric but unspoken. And this time, when Jisung looked at Chenle, it wasn’t with confusion or surprise. It was with something closer to wonder.

“You really were just waiting on me this whole time,” he said, almost to himself.

Chenle didn’t answer right away. When he did, it was quiet, “I wasn’t waiting. I just didn’t know how to stop.”

Jisung laughed and this time, it reached his eyes, "Guess I’ve always had you wrapped around my finger, huh?"

Chenle huffed, "Don’t get cocky.”

Jisung leaned in a little, eyes scanning Chenle’s face, how open he looked now, how all the bravado had softened into something vulnerable. "You really like me?" he asked quietly, as if saying it too loud might break it.

Chenle’s voice was steady, "Yeah. I do."

Jisung looked at him for a long moment, just breathing him in. He had to say something. Do something. He was too full of feeling to stay still. He reached out, his fingers brushing over Chenle’s fingers, gently interlacing them, "Then let me be your boyfriend."

Chenle blinked, a little startled, "You’re asking?"

"I figured I should," Jisung said with a quiet smile, "Since I’ve apparently been your first crush, first heartbreak, and all that."

Chenle smirked, "You forgot first kiss."

"I didn’t forget," Jisung murmured, "I just wanted you to say it."

Something in Chenle’s expression faltered, like a wall cracking and he looked down at their hands, then back up, his voice softer now, "You would be my first boyfriend."

Jisung stared at him for a second, and then leaned in and kissed him again, slow and deep, like a promise pressed to his lips. When he pulled back, his thumb brushed gently along Chenle’s jaw. He let his gaze linger there for a moment, memorizing every freckle, every breath.

Then, voice low and rough, he whispered, "Yeah. Your first and last."

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