Archive of Our Own ^beta

It was one of those campus urban legends, something whispered in the sweat-soaked corner of a house party, or a joke muttered under your breath in the cafeteria while your friend sobs into her thoroughly average sandwich over a thoroughly average man.

“There’s those two boys, in the library.” Someone would say, voice low. “They’ll break up with him for you.”

“They’ll make it look like she cheated bro,” someone yells over the too-loud speaker as beer bottles clink together, “it makes it so much easier.”

They don’t do that, Jaemin would never allow that, but Chenle always encouraged hyperbole whenever it came to the business. No such thing as bad press—that was Chenle’s thinking.

“The blonde one–Jaemin Na.” Hushed in lecture halls, in group chats, in the notes app of your phone. “They say he’s some kind of psychic nutcase. He knows if you should break-up or if you’ll be together forever.”

Which is, of course, pure bullshit.

Jaemin isn’t psychic, that’s not real. That’s Etsy nonsense cooked up to make people pay money to see their dogshit, small town future or speak to their childhood goldfish. Garbage talk to steal money from people with cracked hearts and even worse judgement.

Jaemin Na (not psychic) goes by many names.

Jaem, or Nana, if you’re lucky enough to be in the group chat. There are exactly six people with that privilege in Jaemin’s current lifetime.

Jaeminnie to his Classics professor, the only woman he’d ever met with knowledge that matched him about the primordials. 

Amor, to his “mother”, and to the kind of person who thinks being able to speak Latin in modern times is a personality trait.

Eros, in the poetry of old–the work of the philosophers, and the Thespians. Though Jaemin would narrow his eyes at you, just slightly, just enough to spot if you’re really looking for it, if you mention Aristophanes and his stupid fucking egg.

Most commonly, Jaemin’s name is everyday conversation–a pun here, a song lyric on the morning radio, a self-deprecating joke after a hard-breakup. 

Because Jaemin’s most famous name, is Cupid. 

Not the chubby little curly haired things with wings, though the Putti do find it joyous that Jaemin is mistaken for one of them.

His name is Cupid. 

As in Cupid. 

Son of Aphrodite or Venus or Nyx if you read terrible philosophies. 

Cupid, creator of the Cosmos. 

Winged. 

Eternal. 

Beautiful and terrible.

The first primordial to come into existence (he’d given Parmenides an extra arrow for his writings about that and the ensuing guilt had almost destroyed the continent of Oceania). 

Cupid, with his golden quiver and his arrows tipped with pink and black.

These days? His name is Jaemin. 

Just Jaemin.

Especially to Chenle. 

Chenle doesn’t know about the wings, or the bow, or the fact Jaemin is technically older than the concept of time.

Chenle just thinks Jaemin has a sixth sense about relationships, and that he’s terrible at mornings.

He’s just Jaemin who drinks four americanos on a good day and runs a break-up service from the back corner of the third floor of the library with him. Chenle would never understand.

Jaemin, with the feathers of his wings tucked into the skin by his spine and the tools of his trade wrapped in deep layers of magic to keep them hidden from the world.

He’s used to creating love with the flick of his finger on his bow. He can bind two souls together into eternity with a simple thought.

But these days the mortals are so persistent. They’ll stay with the man Jaemin has shot thirteen times with a black arrow, despite his red flags. They’ll stay with the girl Jaemin’s quiver tells him is married, soul-bonded to another person, despite his warnings. 

Plus, you know. Being alive for millions of years isn’t all that fun if you don’t mix with the mortals sometimes.

So Jaemin doesn’t create love anymore. He helps construct exit strategies. Mostly for fun, maybe he likes the drama. Maybe.

But nobody likes the drama as much as Chenle Zhong does.

Chenle had elbowed him in the ribs at lunch one day as Aeri and Yizhuo from Jaemin’s Norse mythology class had thrown water at each other, screaming about infidelity and obscenity and something about the teaching assistant Irene, and Jaemin had just nodded along.

“There has to be a way for me to see this shit on the daily. It truly fills me with joy.”

“You’re a piece of shit, you know that? They’re clearly fucked up about it. They weren’t meant to be though.” Jaemin knew, because Yizhuo’s face changed around Irene, the way a face only melts into a smile around the person you will spend the rest of your life with.

“The way you know that shit is crazy. We should make money off of it. Heartbreakers, LLC. My best friend was touched by a demon as a child and now he can tell if your relationship is doomed.”

“Gotta work on that tag line I think, Lele.” Jaemin said, with no bite. “But sure, why not.”

He had said it offhand, as if Chenle wasn’t Chenle. As if he didn’t already have a flyer half-made on Canva and a new Instagram business account open. And that’s how, three months later, Heartbreakers, LLC had a full inbox that Jaemin had started to color code by urgency.

It was all Chenle’s fault, really.

Jaemin would never tell Chenle that. His ego was far too big already, liable to start a house fire that could level a city if left completely unchecked.

It hadn’t been long after Jaemin had decided on this human form and this university that he’d met Chenle. Mirroring the other hungover students in the orientation line, he’d rolled up in a pair of obnoxiously large sunglasses with his hair sticking out all over the place. Chenle had pushed in the line, in a very Chenle manner, without even glancing at Jaemin.

“Uh… hey?” Jaemin had tapped him on the shoulder. “The line?”

Chenle had turned around slowly and looked Jaemin up and down with a sneer. “You look like one of those Greek statues, Jesus. Give me a break and let me cut in line, hot stuff.”

Jaemin had almost choked on his complimentary bottle of water.

Then he’d never been free from Chenle ever again. He was in the library when Jaemin needed a book. He was in the seat next to him in Philosophy 101.

“Just for the credits.” Chenle had said. 

Because why the hell is a Music Production major in a Philosophy class?

Chenle had shown up to Neo Culture Institute of Technology with a full ride scholarship and the overblown confidence of a man who has never been told no. Not a single time. He wore sunglasses inside like a pretentious dickhead and never styled his hair properly but somehow still always looked put together. 

Jaemin just really liked him for the entertainment factor, honest. Chenle was the most interesting mortal Jaemin had come across since he’d snuck into Psyche’s room all those years ago. Millions of years ago. 

But that was neither here nor there.

There was nothing mythical about the way they’d become friends. The playwrights would have been terribly disappointed in Jaemin. They just–were. Chenle shared his lecture notes with Jaemin when Jaemin got distracted by a couple six rows in front. Jaemin stopped Chenle from making bad decisions, or having sex with them.

“That spooky shit you do, it’s wild as hell. How did you know Junhui was going to give me gonorrhea?"

“I literally didn’t say that. I just said he seemed like he would give you some kind of disease.” Jaemin had smiled, ignoring Chenle’s pleas for more insight into his love life.

“Okay, but I want to use your demon powers for evil, gay activities and you’re not letting me. Which is kind of homophobic if you think about it Jaemin.”

Spooky magic, demon powers, psychic shit. Jaemin had stopped correcting Chenle after the third week of knowing him. 

It was easier the way things were now. Jaemin had been revered, reviled, worshipped and hated in every way the human mind can comprehend. Mortals always wanted something, or wanted him, just because that’s what they thought they were supposed to do when they met Cupid in the flesh.

Chenle wouldn’t, Chenle didn’t really do supposed to. He did whatever he wanted, like a bat out of hell, cursing and strutting around like he owns every place he walks into.

Now here he was, crammed into the back of the library on a table too-small for the both of them, with a hand drawn “Heartbreakers, LLC” taped to the plant they were hiding behind, praying that the librarian wouldn’t kick them out.

“Hey, fuckhead.” Chenle nudges at Jaemin’s foot under the table. “Are you even listening to our incredibly valued customer?”

Jaemin shakes his head, startling out of his daze.

The girl in front of him is wearing a purple hoodie so oversized she’s practically drowning in it. She had stood by the printer chewing at the sleeves of it for twenty minutes before she’d gathered the courage to come over and talk to them.

“Sorry, Karina? What did you say?” Jaemin leans forward in his chair to study her closer.

“Uh–yeah. Uhm, so, I’ve been dating Johnny, you know from the football team. But he keeps calling me weird pet names in front of my friends and he’s kind of… like super over the top with PDA… ugh. It’s not gonna work. He’s a super nice guy though…”

She was still chewing at her sleeves and the threads were starting to fray. Her jaw kept clenching in between sentences and her knee bounced in time with Jaemin’s breaths.

“So you want us to help you break up with him?” Jaemin leans forward, gaze focused on Karina.

She gulps. “You’re–uh–they say you’re psychic, right? Should I break up with him?”

Jaemin had already decided three things about Karina: she was a people-pleaser, she was wearing too much perfume and he was getting a headache, and she didn’t actually even know if she really wanted to break up with Johnny at all. Her friends had definitely planted that idea for her after one too many public kisses. 

Jaemin also knew that Johnny Suh was not the person for her, eternal deity of love or not.

Johnny Suh was in a long term situationship with Jaehyun Jeong, the head of the debate club. He had been for as long as Jaemin had been in this body, which was coming up on two years. It was the worst kept secret in the entire student body, something everyone knew. Everyone, apparently, except Karina and the gaggle of girlfriends she was always with.

Chenle claps, startling everyone back to attention. “Well then. We’ve got a pretty comprehensive package for you here. For twenty bucks, we can do you the basics. Works every time. If you want to add a little more… I can send Jaemin to work his freaky magic and make Johnny think it was all his idea.” Chenle always wiggled his eyebrows when he talked about Jaemin to a client. 

Jaemin’s ‘freaky magic’, well that shit really worked—obviously.

Every single time.

It was a badge Chenle wore with pride, for some reason, despite it being absolutely nothing to do with him. Jaemin didn’t really mind though.

They walked out, bumping shoulders, with ten of Karina’s hard-earned dollars as a deposit, Johnny Suh’s phone number and his class schedule for the next week, and a promise from Jaemin that he would get back to her by Friday with an answer on whether or not they could help her.

“Cupid loose thine arrow, or what the fuck ever. Go get ‘em tiger!” Chenle says, with a slap to Jaemin’s back. 

Jaemin swallows, hard, pushing down a wince that comes with the reminder. 

He hadn’t, wouldn’t say it out loud. 

Maybe, if you really poked and prodded at Jaemin and he’d had enough whiskey at a party. 

He’d tell you his quiver hasn’t glowed in months. Dead as fuck. Not a spark, not even a little pinprick of light in the dark. He would tell you his bow had no direction, no power coursing through it the way it always had before.

And what is Cupid, without his bow and arrows, but a winged failure?

It should have hurt more, maybe, his bow going dark. The silence from his quiver. 

Mostly, it just felt like a dull ache Jaemin couldn’t conjure up a name for. Something festering in the shadows, something he wasn’t quite ready to face.

So he smiles instead, shoving Chenle’s hand away. He turns towards the huge wooden doors that always remind him of the Temple of Aphrodite in Knidos, the same rough, splintered wood under his palms as he pushes them open, and sighs. He needs to head out to the football field, where he’ll find Johnny Suh and the games will begin.

˗ˏˋ જ⁀➴ ˎˊ˗

Jaemin’s bow and quiver might have stopped working, but the rest of his magic had remained. He thanks the universe as his camouflage switches from the dull grey of the bleachers to the bright red of the boys locker room. Without it, he’d have to come up with a reason that didn’t sound creepy for why he was prowling post-game when everyone knew the team would be changing and showering. 

They would have sung songs and carved statues of Johnny Suh in the ages past. Jaemin leans back against the corner of a row of lockers as Johnny pulls off his shirt and a teammate smacks him on the ass as they pass. He’s built out of pure muscle that ripples as he lifts his arms above his head to stretch. Jaemin wrinkles his nose at the stench of sweat that lingers on the air, clinging to all of the men as they banter, flicking towels at each other’s asses and laughing.

It was easy to see why Karina had fallen for him. The football captain with the winning smile, genuinely nice to everybody and deserving of the free ride he’d gotten to the university by playing on the team. Johnny wore his jerseys like a second skin, they’re in every photo on his instagram page, and he dons a clean one now after his shower. Jaemin smirks as he catches Johnny’s gaze flick to the door and back to the teammate currently chewing his ear off. Jaemin doesn’t have to turn to know it’s Jaehyun Jeong standing by the doorway.

“John! Your tutor is here bro.” One of the others yells from somewhere to Jaemin’s right.

“I got it Woo. See y’all at practice tomorrow!”

There’s a chorus of replies as Johnny swings his duffel bag behind him, biting a smile away from his lips as his eyes meet Jaehyun’s properly.

Too easy. Jaemin thinks to himself, though he does feel for Karina a little as the two men link pinky fingers as they jog down the tunnel back out onto the field. Jaemin doesn’t need his magic to be working in full to know that those two are destined, it’s in every beat of their hearts and the way all of the colors around them change as their hands meet.

Chenle would want him to use this, would want the explosive drama of everyone finding out and the whispers that would carry through classrooms for months, even years after the reveal. Jaemin didn’t want that–not when Johnny and Jaehyun seemed so in love, so happy. He had seen too many relationships fall to the doom of social expectations. This needed more planning.

“Can I help you bro?”

The words startle Jaemin so much he lets out a very inhumane growl. He turns to see one of the other football players standing behind him, looking directly at him. He has an eyebrow cocked, but looks more confused than anything else.

He can see me. It’s like a lightning strike through Jaemin’s resolve. 

“I-uh-” he stutters his way through the first excuse that comes to his mind, “I–I’m looking for Jeno. Lee?”

Thank the Gods for the token jock of the friendship group.

“Oh! Right. Jaemin, right? Jeno talks about y’all a lot, you work out together huh? He says you bench crazy high. He’s not here today, said something about…”

The man’s voice fades away in Jaemin’s mind as he nods along, but Jaemin doesn’t need the answer anyway. He already knows Jeno is in the library with Jisung and Renjun. A cursory glance at the notifications list on his phone confirms it.

badgaljunjun: jen, can we go to the back of the first floor so we don’t have to see chenle?

samojjed: we can go literally anywhere nobody else is crazy enough to be studying this hard this early in the year renjun

demon spawn: why the hell don’t you want to see me, also who changed my fucking nickname to this?

bigandyp: ٩꒰｡•◡•｡꒱۶

demon spawn: bold move when i have your mom’s phone number and that video of you crying after your first joint jwi

demonspawn’s nickname has been changed to godofbasketball

godofbasketball: good boy

Jaemin shakes his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his cheeks. “Library? I got it, thanks man!” He tries to smile through the shaky way his chest heaves.

He could fucking see me. Jaemin can feel the panic in every vein, tumbling through all of his organs like someone put him on a spin cycle in the broken dryer at the campus laundromat.

“No worries, sorry for scaring you, that’s a fucked up way to react to being scared though bro,” he giggles nervously. “See you around!”

Jaemin doesn’t stop moving until he pushes through the heavy metal doors of the athletics building and they clang shut behind him. He exhales, hard, pushing his hair back from his forehead. Someone saw him. His camouflage had never failed before. 

What the fuck is going on.

“Are you seriously that out of breath from lurking in the locker room?”

Chenle is perched on the hood of his car, one leg swinging with the other tucked up into his chest.

“Fuck you. Why are you here Chenle?”

He jumps down, flicking at Jaemin’s nose. “Call it my intuition. This one could really skyrocket us into making fucking bank. Johnny Suh is a big fish. So, are they meant to be? Or is he still fucking with Jaehyun from debate club like he has been since, well, forever?”

Jaemin puts his hands in his pockets and looks down. “He’s still with Jaehyun. We should help Karina.”

Chenle’s eyes almost bulge out of his head. “You saw them? Bro they keep that shit on lock, how did you manage that? Did you get a video?”

“No video.” Jaemin doesn’t look up when he says it.

“Come on Jaemin, imagine the publicity we’d get from posting that–”

“Chenle. They’re not just fucking. It’s real.” He remembers the way their pinkies brushed as they walked together, the way the air felt warmer, golden, around them. “They’re in love. I’m not outing the captain of the football team for a boost in business.”

Chenle barks a laugh. “People fall in and out of love all the time Jaemin, that’s why our business exists. Come on… don’t be soft.”

Jaemin finally lifts his head, pulse pounding, jaw tight. “I’m not outing anyone for the business Chenle, you know as well as I that’s a fucking shitty thing to do. What’s happening between those two is real, we don’t do anything to interfere with it. We get Johnny to break up with Karina quietly and we all move on.”

“You’re too fucking soft, that’s your problem Jaemin.” Chenle shoots back. “You love, love too much for someone whose only involvement is making it end. Your instinct is off with this one, I’m telling you we could hit fucking crazy heights here.”

Instinct. 

Jaemin swallows hard. He’s always trusted it, his magic guiding him to those whose souls speak to each other, threads of fate tying them up in lifelong knots that nobody could untie. Nobody except Jaemin, and his arrows. Was he wrong? Was his magic so fried he was putting too much into a couple he’d barely seen, that might not make it?

He forces his voice to stay steady. “You’re being a fucking dickhead. We’re not outing them, they’re real. We tell Karina we’re keeping it lowkey and it’ll look like Johnny’s idea. We do nothing else.”

Chenle studies him for a long beat, eyes narrowed. Then he sighs. “Fine, you’re right. I am being a bit of a dick about it.”

Jaemin nods, but his chest still feels tight, his skin prickling with unease. Chenle had cracked something open, an insecurity Jaemin hadn’t even known was tucked away in the folds of his mind. What kind of God has insecurities? But Jaemin feels it nonetheless, the worry. The worry that he’s wrong, that his magic is so gone he can’t even tell anymore–what is real love, and what is all a facade?

Their phones ping with the cutesy little katalk! sound at the same time as the group chat livens up again. Mark and Haechan must be having a slow day at the cafe.

pocketfulofsunshine: get out of the library and come here it’s so fucking empty i’m going to put my head in the toilet and hit the flush

bigdickbigdreams: yeah it is actually super empty guys please come and keep us company

bigdickbigdreams: who the fuck made this my nickname i hate you all

badgaljunjun: we’re all still thinking about the last party when you took your pants off mark, you just have to accept it

bigandyp: who is we? im not thinking about mark hyung’s dick. that sounds like a you problem renjun hyung.

samojjed: me when i lie 

Jaemin thumbs out a quick reply and a laugh react to Jeno’s message and then puts his phone away, but Chenle is happily scrolling, smirking at every message.

“I knew Mark hyung would hate that nickname.” He laughs as he types a reply.

The sound of it bubbles in Jaemin’s chest, like a gulp of soda gone down the wrong hole. The air around them shivers and lights burst across Jaemin’s vision, golden threads forming in the air he hasn’t seen for weeks, for months, since his bow and quiver stopped working.  

“...min. Jaemin! Are you okay?” Chenle’s hand is on his shoulder and it burns where he squeezes.

Jaemin’s brain dollyzooms on itself, like he isn’t really in his body, and then plants him firmly back on the ground with a twist of his gut. 

Just how fucked up is his magic if it’s going to keep doing shit like this?

“Fucking hell. Yeah, sorry, haven’t uh… had any water today, dehydrated. Made me dizzy for a second.” Jaemin shakes it off. “Sorry, you were saying?”

“Cafe? We can see if the others agree with me or you about the plan for Karina and Johnny. Ten dollars they’ll agree with me.”

“I’m not making that bet Chenle, we’re not fucking outing someone. We both know how shitty that can feel. I will take a vanilla latte though, on your ass for being a nasty little dick.” Jaemin opens the door at the passenger side of Chenle’s car and winks before he sits down. 

Chenle rolls his eyes before joining him. “Fine. If everyone else agrees can we at least do something dramatic with it, like a reel? A story with sad 80’s music on it? Anything?”

Jaemin shakes his head again, sighing. “If I let you post an instagram story with a Bryan Adams song on it, will you let it go?”

Chenle bats his eyelashes as he nods, making his eyes as wide as they can go, and starts the car.

The little gold lines still flicker at the sides of Jaemin’s vision as they drive across town.

˗ˏˋ જ⁀➴ ˎˊ˗

The cafe always smells like burnt coffee (courtesy of Haechan) and sugar-dusted pastries (thanks to Mark). They have the music cranked up to counter the emptiness, and Frank Ocean’s voice fills every corner of the room. Jaemin slides into the booth they always take, Renjun, Jisung and Jeno already taking up half of the space by the time they arrive. Chenle sits opposite him, immediately tugging at Jeno’s shirt and bothering him with a whine in his voice. 

The sparks fire off across Jaemin’s vision again, a low hum hanging on the air. 

“Jaemin, are you okay?” Renjun’s hand squeezes at his shoulder, pulling him back to Earth. “Your back looks…”

Renjun doesn’t have to finish, Jaemin can feel the feathers of his wings fighting against his fading magic, trying to push outwards.

“New shirt. Fits uh… weird under my jacket. And. I need to throw up.” Jaemin stands, and runs towards the bathroom before anyone can ask anymore questions.

The bathroom mirror flickers with the faint halo of light surrounding it as Jaemin splashes the cold water against his face. The sparks have receded, but they’re still there, gnawing at the sides of his vision. Stars that refuse to burn out. He grips the sink until his knuckles turn white, breathing through it.

Need to figure out why the magic is fucking up. Jaemin stares at his own eyes in the mirror, no white, none of the chocolate brown that so many people complimented. Just the inky black of the universe that he always camouflaged. Fuck… not here. Please. 

His plea works, he feels the feathers of his wings recede back into his spine, and the black of his eyes melt back into their usual soft colors. The eyes his friends are used to. 

He exhales slowly, then fixes his hair before he goes back to the booth.

When he slides back into his seat, six pairs of worried eyes are trained on him.

“I just didn’t eat well these last few days, don’t worry.” Jaemin laughs as Chenle tips his head in disbelief. “I mean it! I’m just a dickhead. I’ll be fine after I get some sleep.”

Jeno looks like he’s thinking just as hard as Chenle. “Well… okay… Chenle was just telling us your latest client is Karina Yu. I didn’t even know she was dating Johnny Suh? Isn’t he fucking Jaehyun–”

“-Jeong, from debate club!” Chenle interrupts. “Jaemin says he saw them together with his own two eyes but he won’t let me expose them as part of the breakup deal. Tell him he’s being boring!” 

“Jaemin, you’re being so ethical. Great job.” Renjun says enthusiastically, squeezing at one of Jaemin’s cheeks. “Chenle you’re a horrible piece of shit, Johnny Suh isn’t out? You want to out him?”

“Well… no. Don’t say it like that I don’t want Johnny Suh to get like… hurt. But how else are we supposed to profit from this drama? I have a business to run Renjun, in case you forgot.” Chenle pouts and fold his arms and Jaemin feels the stars clawing at the sides of his ribs, threatening to reveal his wings again.

He clears his throat and drinks half of his glass of water before continuing. “Chenle wants you all to take a vote on which approach we take, so that it’s democratic and correct.”

“Chenle you are so fucking annoying, and a dick. Has anyone ever told you that?” Jisung chimes in. 

“Man fuck you, first of all it’s Chenle hyung, second not all of us have parents in the one percent Jisung. Some of us have to make our own money.” Chenle spits back.

“Chenle, we all quite literally do have rich parents. We are all about to pay for this coffee with our parents money. You have the richest parents of all of us. Also Jisung has never once called you hyung. Asshole.” Jeno’s eyebrow raises as he says it.

“Jaemin’s parents aren’t rich?” Chenle’s eyebrows are growing closer and closer together as he frowns harder, fighting a losing battle.

“That’s why Jaemin is the nicest of all of us.” Haechan says, appearing from behind the counter with an assorted array of coffees on a tray. “I burnt like, every single one of these, so they’re on the house.”

“You are all allergic to fun, and making money.” Chenle is really pouting now, his brow furrowed so far his eyebrows are sinking together into one. “We could have been legends.”

“In hell. Legends in hell, where you would belong for setting that man up for your own stupid entertainment.” Renjun rolls his eyes as he takes a cappuccino from the tray. 

“What’s all this about legends and going to hell?” Mark appears with another tray, this one filled with baked goods. They smell divine and Jaemin’s mouth almost falls open Looney Tunes style.

“Chenle wants to ruin Johnny Suh’s life.” Jisung says flatly, brushing at the powdered sugar Mark’s pastries just dusted onto the elbow of his shirt.

Chenle starts flailing, his eyes too wide as he yells. “Correction! Jaemin could ruin Johnny Suh’s life! But he won’t because he’s too soft and he like, is a freak when it comes to love.” 

“Our Jaeminnie…” Haechan coos, cupping Jaemin’s face in his hands. “So soft and kindhearted.” He’s fuelled by everyone’s giggling, an evil little grin growing across his face. “Do you want to take me on board with Heartbreakers, LLC and have me as the designated playlist maker so you can have a soundtrack? Pop Punk style, Mayday Parade, A Day to Remember heartbreak classi–”

“Please, God, no Haech.” Jaemin says, but his voice cracks on Haechan’s name and it only serves to make everyone laugh even harder. 

Jeno leans forward, once everyone calms down. “But, what is your plan then? If you know that Johnny isn’t into Karina and she’s asked for help anyway, it makes sense to actually break them up, no?”

“Well–” Jaemin starts.

“That’s where I come in!” Chenle says, proudly. “I’ll be seen talking to Karina, reassure her everything is handled you know, Jaemin will be seen talking to Jaehyun, by lots of people. Someone will surely tell Johnny, he surely knows about the Heartbreakers,” he grins wide, wiggling his eyebrows as he points between Jaemin and himself. “Johnny comes to us… we, I don’t know. Appeal to his kind nature or something. Tell him to break up with Karina or we’ll tell everyone about Jaehyun. Job done. Money in the bank. Everyone is happy.”

“Except Johnny?” Renjun adds.

“Yeah, except Johnny!” Chenle replies cheerfully.

Jaemin puts his head in his hands and sighs. Jisung looks up to the ceiling and Jeno takes a deep breath. 

“Chenle did you come up with this plan while we were in the car?” Jaemin asks when he lifts his head.

“You really are just a massive dickhead. Y’know that?” Mark says, blinking. “What the hell Le?”

“But nobody is talking about how Johnny is a shitty person for two-timing his lovely boyfriend with a girl to meet social standards? Why am I the bad person here?” Chenle throws his arms out in disbelief and almost takes Jeno’s eye out.

“Oh my God fine, you’re not that bad a person, you just have questionable ethics and a shitty attitude, can you stop throwing yourself around the booth like that, damn.” Jisung says, wrestling Chenle’s arms down to his sides.

“I have an idea. A better one. It’s... kind of the same, but less emotional blackmail.” Jaemin says, blinking away the shapes and squiggles his hands had pressed into his eyelids.

“Will it work?” Renjun says, worry creasing his brow.

“Honestly, when it comes to Jaemin—it always works. Somehow. I’m telling y’all it’s that freaky demon magic shit.” Chenle says, accepting defeat. “I trust you, Jaem. Brief me in the car on the way home, I’ll give you and Renjun a ride.”

˗ˏˋ જ⁀➴ ˎˊ˗

Jaemin hated it. Using this type of magic.

The flashy stuff was fine, the delicate string of his bow and the golden feathers of his arrows, the neon pink and the deep, abyss of the black at the tips. That was his calling, his divinity. His camouflage was a necessity, and it never hurt anybody—unless you count that one time… well. Jaemin didn’t.

Suggestion magic was poison.

Whispering thoughts into people’s minds left a bitter taste in his mouth. Like he’d swallowed something rotten and it had stuck in his throat.

Nevertheless, his shoes slap against the linoleum floors in the corridor of the Law Library. Jaehyun Jeong’s debate club was tucked away in one of the private rooms at the back of the library, and Jaemin had about five minutes until their club meeting for the week was over.

When Jaehyun walks out, he’s still scribbling notes into a notebook as he nods to his clubmates. He’s just as textbook as his boyfriend. Glasses slipping off the edge of his nose, a handsome, angular face framed by soft brown hair. Dimples soften the corners of his mouth as his phone buzzes and he smiles.

Like clockwork, the double doors behind Jaemin crash open as the smarter half of the football team walks in—cutting through the Law library is the fastest way from the Business classrooms to the football pitch, everyone knows that.

He has to be quick.

Jaemin steps sideways, just enough into Jaehyun’s path that their shoulders knock together and Jaehyun drops the notebook he’s holding.

“Oh–I’m sorry–”

You don’t want to hide anymore. Jaemin feels the words pulse out of him, through the skin where his hand meets Jaehyun’s as they both reach for the notebook. You want the world to know about your love.

“It’s my bad.” Jaemin smiles as he says it out loud.

If Jaehyun notices it’s the same voice as the one that just whispered in his mind, he says nothing. His hands tremble slightly as he takes the notebook out of Jaemin’s hand and his eyes fill with fog for just a moment, before he slaps the notebook shut.

“Sorry–I–” Jaehyun pulls his phone out of his pocket as he bows another apology and walks away.

As Jaemin looks towards the back doors, he catches one of the jocks—the same one who’d caught him outside the locker room—staring, with a quirked brow.

“Woo, let’s go! Coach will actually kill you if you’re late again.” One of the others yells, just beyond the doors.

He doesn’t move right away, fingers tightening on the strap of his backpack. His gaze is fixed on Jaemin, like he can’t bring himself to look away.

“Jungwoo!”

“Yeah, yeah, coming.” Jungwoo mutters, tearing his eyes away at last. His sneakers squeak shrilly against the floor as he skids out of the door behind his teammates. 

The doors open out onto the quad and (hopefully, if they have timed it perfectly) right into the path of Chenle and Karina.

Just like magic, (the charismatic, Chenle kind, rather than Jaemin’s primordial, otherworldly kind) Chenle and Karina are right where they should be, smack bang in the middle of the football team’s path. Chenle is talking too loud, arms flying all over the place as he leans into Karina. Jaemin doesn’t need to hear—he knows Chenle’s script. 

“Trust me,” Chenle says, a little too close to Karina’s face. “By tonight, it’ll happen. Everyone will be talking.”

Karina fidgets with the sleeve of her cardigan, Jaemin has to focus to be able to hear her, so soft where Chenle is all noise. “But talking about what, Chenle. That’s my worry.”

“About you, of course.” Chenle’s grin flashes, a neon light on the dull September day. Jaemin has to fight the urge to roll his eyes, and clutches his side as that clawing feeling grips him again. “The hottest single girl on campus.”

The team have already passed them, hardly sparing them a glance. Except for one. A singular pair of sneakers slowing down.

Jungwoo.

Slam dunk.

He bends over, fingers fiddling with the laces of his sneakers. His eyes stay locked on Karina and Chenle.

Jaemin’s wings twitch, the feathers tickling at the bones of his spine, fighting for freedom as Chenle’s eyes meet Jungwoo’s and Chenle smirks, a little evil. Then it shifts into something else, and a blush starts to bloom across the paleness of Chenle’s face.

The gold lines dart across Jaemin’s vision again.

“Chenle.” Jaemin says, warning. It’s too quiet.

Chenle is too busy gesticulating as he continues chewing Karina’s ear off, shaking his head to send the blush into the wind, weaving the web of some grand plan that Jaemin isn’t privy to and makes what they’re doing sound ten times more dramatic and complicated than it really is.

“Chenle!” Jaemin tries again, louder.

“Oh, Jaem, just the man. Rina, let us know when you see some results!” Chenle gives Karina a wave as he jogs towards Jaemin. Jungwoo’s eyes follow him the whole way.

Chenle bounces on his heels as they turn towards the main building, stars glistening in the brown ring of his eyes. “Did you see? She’s totally down for the plan. I’m actually too good at this.”

Jaemin scoffs. “Yeah, you did so well, and all by yourself.”

“Well, you helped of course.” Chenle waves a hand nonchalantly as he pushes open the heavy doors with the opposite shoulder. “What would I do without that Jaemin magic?”

There they are again. 

Little lines of gold, sparks of pure sunlight, like a firework just exploded across Jaemin’s vision. It outlines Chenle’s silhouette in a golden hue that almost blinds Jaemin. 

“Fucking—ow.” He blinks the lights away and rubs at his forehead as an ache throbs at his temples.

“Jaem?” Chenle’s face drops into seriousness, worry creasing the corners of his eyes. “Hyung? You good?”

“Just a headache. Comes out of nowhere man.” Jaemin shakes it off and follows Chenle into the lecture hall. 

“I still think we should let Rina do a big reveal of the Johnny and Jaehyun thing. Imagine the numbers we’d make!” Chenle’s in a different world again, his worry for Jaemin floating away like it was never there.

“Have you ever tried being a nice person, Le?” Jaemin says. “It’s quite rewarding. I think you’d like it.”

“Bullshit, I’m a delight.” Chenle retorts, turning his nose up in a false anger Jaemin knows will be forgotten just as quickly as his worry.

“You’re certainly something.” Jaemin says it to the back of Chenle’s head as they climb the stairs to the very top, as far away from their Professor as possible—just the way Chenle likes it, and just to piss Jaemin off.

˗ˏˋ જ⁀➴ ˎˊ˗

It works like a charm, because of course it does. The next morning Jaemin wakes up to the group chat on fire, far too early in the morning for it to have been anything else except the breakup or a medical emergency—thankfully, it was not the latter.

godofbasketball: i am quite literally the second coming of jesus christ

bigandyp: i fear mark hyung begs to differ

bigdickbigdreams: its too early for blasphemy dude come on

badgaljunjun: so he broke up with her?

godofbasketball: by TEXT bro, in the middle of the night, i would actually feel bad for her if she hadn’t paid us to make it happen

samojjed: that’s an oof

badgaljunjun: can’t believe haech isn’t here making a shitty joke :/

bigdickbigdreams: he is not even conscious my man he worked a close at the cafe and then went to a party at sig nu

godofbasketball: partying with hot jocks without your friends should be a crime punishable by death btw

samojjed: chenle you couldn’t go to sleep and dream of being invited to a sig nu party let’s aim a little bit lower buddy

badgaljunjun: johnny however was definitely there and im guessing karina was too??? why'd he text her if they were at the same party lmao

godofbasketball: the male mind works in mysterious ways

bigandyp: you would know

samojjed: we all know jisung

bigandyp: oh right yeah

Jaemin stretches until all of the muscles in his back pop and he groans with the feeling of it.

“Are you jacking off in there? Fuck all the way off if you are Jaem, for real.” Renjun says, then knocks twice, then comes in anyway.

“See, if I had been jacking off, why the hell would you come in?” Jaemin snarks back, eyebrow raised.

“I gave you enough time to remove your hand from your cock Jaemin, let’s be serious.” Renjun replies, no hesitation. “We’ve been roommates for a year and I’ve never even heard you take a shit, never mind jerk off. Chenle is here, said something about needing your help, don’t ask me why he needs you at seven a.m. I don’t know either.” He turns and leaves before Jaemin can even blink in confusion.

Sure enough, another notification pings on Jaemin’s phone.

lele: come out IMMEDIATELY i just got the craziest dm

lele: jaemin seriously i need you what the fuck do i do

I need you.

It prickles, sharp in all of the nooks of Jaemin’s spine and sends a shiver across his whole body. Weird.

“Renjun is he here or is he outside in the car?” Jaemin yells as he drags himself out of bed and to his closet, pulling out the first sweater and slacks combination his hand hits.

“Car! You know he won’t do the stairs and the elevator is too busy this time in the morning!” Renjun yells back from what sounds like his own room.

Jaemin groans at a twinge in his back that makes his wings flutter dangerously against his spine. As he bends down to pull on his socks the world splits into lines of golden thread again, his head pounding with the sudden pain.

“I resent that Huang Renjun! The elevator wasn’t too busy, for once.” Chenle’s voice at his bedroom door startles Jaemin straight.

“Fucking hell what are you on some kind of stealth operation? Sneaking up on me like–” Chenle’s phone is three inches from his face before Jaemin can even finish, the instagram app blurring in his vision as he crosses his eyes to try and make sense of the screen. “Can you back up? I can’t even see a single pixel at this distance.”

As Chenle pulls the phone backwards and Jaemin squints, the screen pulls into focus.

sugaringcandy: should i feel jealous about you making johnny break up with karina, you tryna date her?

sugaringcandy: or can i take you out for hotpot this saturday? 

“Who–who is this Chenle?” Jaemin scrunches his brows, pushing the phone down so he can see Chenle’s face.

“Bro… it’s fucking Jungwoo.” Chenle’s face almost splits in two with a smile. “What the fucking hell do I say to him?”

“The guy from the football team?” Jaemin’s vision tunnels, gold lines streaking across it again. The one that could see me in the locker room. “I–uh–I mean… do you want to date him?”

“I mean he’s a football player… he’s hot… if anything at least I might get a good fuck out of it, right?” Chenle huffs a laugh, but his cheeks bloom pink, the same way they did the other day, and his eyes dart downwards when Jaemin looks at him closer.

“Zhong Chenle. He’s asking you out for dinner. You’re blushing!” Jaemin’s voice cracks as he says it, his vision almost completely black except for the flashes of gold. “Hold on, sorry I have to sit down, fucking headaches again.”

“You okay?” The mattress sinks as Chenle drops down next to him. “This has been happening a lot lately Jaem… maybe you should go to a doctor?”

Jaemin waves a hand. “Later. You should… yeah… you should definitely go on a date with Jungwoo. He has classes in the business building so he’s one of the smart ones, huh?”

“Yeah… I guess… or maybe his dirty talk will be all business and my dick will stop working forever.” Chenle giggles again, but a shadow of self-doubt mars the smile on his face.

“Or maybe he’ll finally inspire you to be a nice person and we’ll all be happier for it.” Jaemin shakes away the remnants of the headache and picks up his bag. “Come on, I’ve got a nine a.m., make yourself useful and get me there early so I can get a good seat.”

“Almost two years of friendship and this is what I boil down too huh, your chauffeur?” Chenle feigns annoyance, turning his nose up and his face away.

“Well I would make Haechan do it, but he’s probably working an open at the cafe to keep that obscenely expensive Porsche in his apartment’s parking and not in an impound lot somewhere because he missed a monthly payment. So yeah, unfortunately it falls to you Lele.” Jaemin presses a finger into his temple, his head pounding again as Chenle turns back, mouth open and hand clutching at his chest.

“You’re paying for breakfast for that. Nothing but disrespect and for what.” Chenle walks out of the room first, keys spinning around his finger. “Renjun do you want a ride?!”

˗ˏˋ જ⁀➴ ˎˊ˗

bigdickbigdreams: yo is lele on a date with fucking JUNGWOO rn?!

badgaljunjun: oh right, our bad, he told me and jaemin on like wednesday lmao

samojjed: as long as woo doesn’t have to miss practice because chenle’s sucked all of the energy out of his body with that mouth of his im all good

badgaljunjun: why the fuck would that be what you are thinking about jen. what the actual fuck. nana get in here. 

demon: that is a pretty nuts thing to say jeno i’m not gonna lie

demon: why is my name demon?

bigandyp: that one was lele i will only be taking credit for calling him a demon i would never say that to you jaemin hyung

bigdickbigdreams: wait jisung change lele’s name back to demon spawn then it’s like he’s jaemin’s child lol

samojjed: aren’t we in college? 

samojjed: you guys say i’m not funny and now i’m going to be offended every time because how am i not funny when mark hyung says shit like that.

pocketfulofsunshine: can y’all stop having fun in the group chat when i’m working it’s making me want to eat the raw coffee beans

demon: so eat them? its coffee?

samojjed: did you think that would like. kill you haech?

pocketfulofsunshine: YOU DONT KNOW. IT MIGHT?

bigdickbigdreams: bro we work in a coffee shop you absolutely do know that it won’t kill you

Jaemin’s head throbs painfully as Chenle’s profile photo appears at the bottom of the group chat, the three little dots dancing merrily next to it as he types.

godofbasketball: jeno. disgusting. am i just a whore to you? 

godofbasketball: actually dont answer that

godofbasketball: ill be back later with news about the date but like… guys its kind of going well? im like actually. enjoying myself? 

pocketfulofsunshine: omg lele!!! im so glad, this is like the first time i havent been immediately worried that you will catch several different types of super chlamydia jungwoo is like the most normal dude on that football team

samojjed: ???? hello

Jaemin swipes away from the group chat to Jungwoo’s instagram profile, already open where he’s been opening and closing the photo of Chenle holding a glass of wine on Jungwoo’s story, smiling from ear to ear.

The usual strings of gold that have been streaking across his vision turn a radioactive green and then fade to a bloody red color that makes Jaemin’s chest ache. It’s the first time in forever his magic feels strong—feels real to him again. 

Chenle and Jungwoo aren’t meant to be.

“They’re not a match.” He says out loud to no one. “Oh my God…”

The lamp on Jaemin’s desk flickers—once, twice. Then the bulb bursts, sending glass flying all over his notes. The smell of burning fills the air and Jaemin’s mouth drops open.

What the fuck.

His phone buzzes at the same time.

godofbasketball: guys the fucking power just went out in the restaurant be honest am i cursed?

bigandyp: i think its just called karma, deserved honestly

bigandyp: but also #nojoke that sucks bro im sorry

“Jaemin! Jeno wants to know if we want to go driveby the restaurant and spy on Chenle with him!” Renjun’s voice barely cuts through the panic in Jaemin’s mind.

Did… I do that? 

It has to be a coincidence, right? Jaemin’s powers have always been limited to the bow, the arrow, and the things he can do when he’s standing in front of someone. 

Jaemin can’t blow the fuse box of a restaurant on the other side of town. He’s never been able to do that.

Right?

Jaemin looks to his left, to the mirror by his door, and flinches so hard he knocks his coffee onto the floor. 

His wings are out. Shimmering in the strips of moonlight peeking through gaps in his curtain.

“Jaemin! Did you hear me?” Renjun yells again, louder.

“I’m good Jun. I—uh–I don’t feel so good. Don’t come in, you–uh–might catch something.” Jaemin stands, twisting left and right in the mirror. 

His wings have ripped through the back of his t-shirt, leaving it in tatters, strips of black cloth hang uselessly underneath the jut of the joint that helps his wings fold in and out. 

“God—fuck—come on.” He wills them away, uses all of the energy he can muster to wish them back into the folds of his spine where they usually sit so quietly, so effortlessly. They don’t move. “Fuck.” Jaemin says, twisting his hands behind his back to try and force the feathers away. He pulls the ruined shirt over his head and tosses it aside with shaking hands.

They won’t move. They won’t close. 

He can’t go outside.

Jaemin snaps his eyes shut, sparks of red shooting across the backs of his eyelids like fireworks as panic claws at him. There’s a buzzing sound in his right ear that makes a shiver run down his spine. When he opens his eyes again, there’s a faint golden glow creeping from underneath his closet door.

“No fucking way.” Jaemin trips forward, hands still pushing at his wings, and kicks open the door with his foot.

Underneath a pile of sweaters, just where he left them when they stopped working, his bow and quiver shine as bright as the sun, a glittering gold beacon in the darkness of his closet.

“Jaemin, are you actually okay? I’m gonna come in, okay—”

“Oh my God, Renjun don’t—”

The door flies open, and Renjun stumbles in with worry lining his features. 

Jaemin snaps his eyes shut again, ready for the scream, for the fear. Ready to lose another friend, another life—he was really enjoying this one. There’s a pain blooming in his stomach, twisting at his gut as every second ticks by.

“Well if you just needed a second to get a shirt on you could have just said that? Also what the fuck happened to your lamp? Damn? Are you okay?”

Jaemin cracks open an eye. His bow and quiver are dark again, invisible under his discarded clothes. He exhales slowly, chances a look back at the mirror. 

His wings are gone, camouflaged by the sandy-toned skin he’d chosen for this body—unmarred, perfect, muscles twitching with anxiety.

“I—yeah. I’m good. Just, tired?” He doesn’t even believe himself.

Neither does Renjun, if the eyebrow raise is anything to go by. “Oh… kay? We missed our chance anyway, Lele just text and said Jungwoo drove him home already since the restaurant lost power.”

Sure enough, there’s a single new notification on Jaemin’s lockscreen.

godofbasketball: he drove me home, maybe it’s a sign from some kind of God or whatever that we shouldn’t go out again lmfao

The gold starts to fizzle at the sides of Jaemin’s vision again, as he flicks the screen up to send a reply.

demon: or whatever would be my guess

demon: divine intervention on a first date is a crazy assumption

˗ˏˋ જ⁀➴ ˎˊ˗

The biggest problem Jaemin has now, is that Jungwoo is actually a really fucking nice person. 

He brings Chenle a perfect vanilla latte to the corner of the library that they hide in to run Heartbreakers, he laughs as Chenle vibrates with excitement about their next breakup plan, he picks Chenle up from Jaemin and Renjun’s apartment when movie night gets too many bottles of soju deep. He kisses Chenle on the forehead before he says goodbye, and lingers until Chenle blushes so hard Jaemin can feel the heat radiating from his cheeks.

Jungwoo is a really nice person.

Chenle is really happy. 

Jaemin is miserable. 

The headaches are constant, flashes of red burning at the edge of his vision whenever Jungwoo and Chenle are with him.

Jaemin has never had physical manifestations before, not like this. It unsettles him, makes him jumpy at odd times, snappy at all the wrong moments.

A streak of red from his bow, maybe. A nasty bubbling in his gut when he sees a couple—sure. Those have happened before. Those have happened for millenia. He can control those. Has controlled those.

Not like this. 

Not this. 

Jaemin is out of control. Knowing it doesn’t comfort him, or make it better. The knowing makes the vines of red thicker as they curl around everything that Jaemin sees.

It’s like every moment Chenle and Jungwoo spend together, get closer, Jaemin falls further and further apart, his grip on his magic loosening with every second.

“Are you doing okay Jaem, really?” Jeno says, hands steady under the barbell that Jaemin is lifting, ready to help if he needs it. “You’ve been so snappy lately, and this is barely half of your usual weight but you’re shaking like a fucking leaf.”

Jaemin grits his teeth. “I’m fine. Really.”  

It would be more believable, but Jaemin knows his grip is slipping, the bar getting closer and closer to his chest and further from the rack.

Jeno tilts his head above him, grinning, his eyes sliding into half-moons. “Oh? Really?

Jaemin grits his teeth even harder, pushing with a huff and the weight finally slides onto the rack with a clang.

“See? Fine.” He sticks his tongue out for good measure and Jeno rolls his eyes.

“Yeah sure Jaem,” Jeno says lifting his shirt to wipe the sheen of sweat from his forehead, perfectly sculpted six-pack stopping a gaggle of girls from the softball team in their tracks. “You’re vibrating like you just snorted a line of coke.”

Jaemin doesn’t answer, too focused on the faint hum of power in his palms. It’s faint, but enough to make him curl his fingers. It’s the same faint buzz he’d feel when he’d pull the string of his bow.

He flexes his fingers, willing the tingling away from his palms.

It doesn’t work. 

“Jaem?” Jeno says, smile dropping. “Are you really okay?” 

Jaemin’s head pounds, like someone is bouncing a hammer against the side of his skull. The threads of gold swim across his vision again, and Jaemin knows Chenle is behind them before he even speaks. 

It’s always gold, when Chenle is alone. When there’s no Jungwoo, no tilt to the universe.

“Headaches again?” Chenle’s voice floats in between the haze. “Jaemin?”

It’s like he’s underwater, the golden hue fogging his eyes as he shakes his head and turns towards Chenle, his ears crunching as they both pop at the same time. 

“Jaemin?” Chenle repeats, closer now. “Dude… you really don’t look good.” His hand hovers over Jaemin’s shoulder, like he’s scared if he touches him he’ll shatter into a thousand pieces.

Jaemin groans in response, but it sounds far away, like it didn’t come from his own body. 

Chenle’s hand finally squeezes at his shoulder and the world comes to a pinpoint, right in the center of Jaemin’s chest as he gasps, all of the magic in his veins changing directions and flowing straight into the center of his heart.

The gym goes dark, the pop of all of the fluorescents dying at the same time echoing against the empty walls.

The silence in the room is thick enough to taste. For a moment that stretches far too long, there’s nothing, like there’s nobody else in the entire world except Jaemin and the darkness enveloping him.

Then, somewhere to his left, a girl curses and her friends start giggling. There’s the sound of a phone hitting the ground, a weight clanging against a rack.

“What the fuck?” Jeno says, closer than Jaemin remembers him being. “What just happened?”

There’s a soft humming sound, and then the wooshing sound of the emergency lighting flickering on around the corners of all the doorways. 

Chenle is standing in front of him, outline unmistakable even in the dull light. “Jaem? Are you with me?” His hand moves from Jaemin’s shoulder to brush across his cheek and Jaemin’s lungs empty at the same moment the overhead lights all flicker back on.

Jaemin tries to blink away the lines dancing in the corner of his vision, squinting at the sudden brightness. He tries to say something to Chenle but the words feel sticky in his throat, molasses, thick and choking him.

“Chenle do you have your car? Let’s get him home.” 

“Yeah, parking lot by the music hall.” Chenle doesn’t move, just stares at Jaemin. “Jaemin? Can you answer me?”

“Let’s just carry him Lele, come on. He’s clearly not all in there right now.” Jeno picks up one of Jaemin’s arms and slings it over his shoulder. “Help me get him up.”

Jaemin’s throat is still clogged, working overtime as they carry him across the quad and past the looming, overly large windows of the music hall. The sound of a violin clings to the wind, following them to Chenle’s car (parked badly, because of course) at the back of the lot.

The journey is too quiet. Chenle glancing into the rearview mirror too many times to check on Jaemin, silent in the back seat, staring through the windshield like it might tell him a secret. Jeno looks between them, mouth twisted into a frown that Jaemin doesn’t want to understand.

With five minutes left of their journey, drops of rain start to splash against the window and Chenle kisses his teeth. “Fuck man, I’m supposed to be meeting Woo for a drink after this. Fucking rain.”

Jaemin’s eyes cross, everything fogging at the sides as he tries to focus on a singular drop right in the middle of Chenle’s windshield. 

“Things seem to be going super well for you with him Lele, he talks about you during practice a lot. I’m happy for you.” Jeno squeezes at Chenle’s thigh and his face cracks into that signature smile. “Lord knows you deserve it with your usual luck with dudes.”

Chenle laughs, high-pitched and full of sunshine, louder than the grey clouds rolling above them and Jaemin finally finds the energy to lift his own lips into a smile, despite the red and green lines bleeding into the sides of his vision.

“Yeah… he’s kind of, different? Ew that’s fucking gross and cliche.” Chenle grimaces at his own words. “But like… he kinda is? He’s so sweet to me, all of the time.”

“Different how?” Jeno asks, because he always does. Always curious, always kind, so very Jeno.

“I don’t even know it just… feels more real. He hasn’t even tried to fuck me yet, to my great dismay. Keeps saying he wants to woo me properly. Then he always winks and says ‘no pun intended’ and it feels like my chest is going to explode dude.”

Jaemin’s pulse pounds in his ears, his palms tingling like he’s doing push-ups in a pile of needles.

“That’s so chee–” Jeno cuts off as something slams into the driver side of the car and the sound of metal scraping against metal has Chenle cursing as his wheels spin on the slick wet of the road.

“What the fuck was that?” Chenle puts a hand on his chest, tapping lightly every few seconds—probably to try and steady his heartbeat. 

“Let’s get Jaem home quick, all of these weird powercuts and accidents following you around is nuts Lele. We should probably ask Jun to pull out the couch and stay here, the rain will probably get worse… and we don’t know what’s up with this trash heap.” Jeno says it with a laugh and a sigh, but there’s something anxious in the way he bites his lip for the rest of the drive.

“Yeah–yeah let me text Woo and reschedule for another day, I don’t want to fuck around driving when the rain is like this anyway.”

Jaemin’s hands are still tingling as they pull into the underground parking of his apartment building. When Chenle’s fingers glide across the screen of his phone, the green streaks blaze across Jaemin’s vision again—then nothing.

˗ˏˋ જ⁀➴ ˎˊ˗

The storm hasn’t stopped.

It’s still spilling against the windows when Jaemin wakes up, and the golden threads tickle the corners of his eyes as he traipses into the living room and spies Chenle curled into a corner of the sofa. Jeno is on the other side, mouth hanging open, a line of drool connecting him to the arm of the sofa.

The smell of coffee floats over from the kitchen, Renjun humming along to a song Jaemin vaguely remembers hearing on the campus radio, echoing gritty and tinny in the hallways between the classrooms.

“Jaem!” Renjun nearly bounces over the kitchen island when he sees him. “You were barely conscious when Jen carried you in last night, we were so worried.”

“It’s the change of seasons,” Jaemin lies with millennia of practiced ease. “I’ll be fine once it settles, it’s uh… gotten me a little more than usual this year.” He licks around his mouth and winces at how wrong the words felt.

Lying never tastes good, it’s always bitter, a little bit rotten, just like his suggestion magic—like food that’s been expired for a day or two and you didn’t notice before taking a bite. 

It always tastes worse when Jaemin lies to Renjun. 

Sweet Renjun who had offered Jaemin the spare room in his apartment almost immediately after meeting him when Jaemin said he hadn’t found a place for the year yet. Wonderful, lovely Renjun who falls asleep on Jaemin’s shoulder every Friday night when they have Rom-Com night. Renjun who dances with the soft, pointed toes of a ballet dancer even when he’s at the dirtiest nightclub in the city. 

Jaemin loved all of the friends he’d made in this body and hated lying to any of them, but Renjun, the kindest of all, was the hardest to lie to. The lie sticks to the roof of his mouth, thick like peanut butter. Jaemin wrangles his grimace into something kind as Renjun smiles, tapping at Jaemin’s cheek as he walks towards the two mounds of snoring limbs still asleep on the couch.

Jaemin walks with him, eager to say thank you to Chenle and Jeno for helping him the night before. His eyes flicker down when Chenle’s phone buzzes against the coffee table.

jwoo: hey let me know when ur up

jwoo: i missed you last night, hope the storm ends and i can see u soon

A red glow bleeds across the room, curling like smoke around everything Chenle has touched. It nestles itself into the couch cushions pulsing softly around the soft rise and fall of Chenle’s sleeping body. It glows against the coffee cups, the plates, everything they’d used for dinner the night before—proably after Jaemin had been put to bed. It snakes across the floor, a handprint on the wall, a footprint by the door. It’s ominous, eerie, throbbing harder wherever Jaemin looks at it.

Are they that incompatible? Jaemin thinks to himself. Why is my magic responding this badly to just a text message? Is this even my magic?

The glow thickens as Chenle stirs, crawling up the legs of the coffee table and wrapping around his phone—almost like a clawed hand. Jaemin blinks hard, willing the color away, wishing for the gold strands that had been so bothersome at first. Jaemin would do anything to be seeing those ones now.

The apartment breathes with the red glow, pulsing, shimmering like Chenle has tainted everything he’s touched with the doom of this relationship the universe itself is trying to spit back out.

Chenle stirs again, spit connecting his hand to his face as his eyes flutter open an he grins, dopey as fuck, at Jaemin. “Mornin’... feel better?”

It should make him smile, even laugh—but Jaemin’s stomach drops, dread filling all of his veins as the redness glares so bright he’s almost afraid Renjun and Jeno will see it and start panicking.

“Yeah.” He replies, too quickly. “Yeah I’m–I’m fine.”

Chenle yawns, hand fumbling across the coffee table for his phone and Jaemin’s nausea peaks, his mouth filling with saliva and his vision going foggy. 

“Lele—I—”

“Huh.” Chenle says, frowning at his phone. “Not even one message from Jungwoo? I’ve been gone the whole night…”

All of the air leaves the room and Jaemin has to try not to gasp.

“What–what did you say Lele?” For a moment Jaemin thinks he completely misheard him, that his mind is conjuring sentences he wants to hear.

He glances down to Chenle’s phone and sees what Chenle saw.

No messages from Jungwoo, nothing since the message Chenle had sent the night before updating him on where he was.

The messages Jaemin had seen popup moments before—they were gone. Jaemin’s head rings, like someone just struck a tuning fork against the side of his skull.

He texted. I saw it. 

“Jungwoo didn’t text. It’s weird. The last few weeks we’ve been… you know. He always texts in the morning, or at least replies to me before he sleeps.” Chenle swipes up and down, closes the app and reopens it. Nothing. “That’s so weird… maybe he’s still sleeping.”

“It’ll definitely be that Le, he’s been so good to you, I don’t think he’d randomly stop in the middle of a bad storm.” Renjun hands over one of the coffee’s as he says it, smile bright. “I’m sure if you send another text to let him know you’re up he’ll get back to you right away!”

He’s been so good to you. It prickles at Jaemin. Makes the hair on his neck stand on end. 

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Chenle shrugs. “Jun can I use your towel for the shower?” He says, kicking his legs in the air to straighten himself out and jumping up from the sofa. “I have a class after lunch and I gotta check whether I can get in or if I’ll have to jump in on Zoom or some shit. I’ll text Woo later when I have time.”

A crack. 

Just one.

It’s enough to make the redness wane, enough for Jaemin’s hand to stop shaking and this throat to stop working so mechanically as he nods. “Yeah, it’ll be fine Chenle.”

When Chenle disappears down the hallway towards the bathroom, Renjun pulls another cup out of the cupboard. “So, that coffee Jaem?"

“Yeah, JunJun, thanks.” Jaemin takes the space Chenle just occupied and breathes, slow.

The sound of running water joins Jeno’s quiet snoring, filling the silence. Everything normal again. No red, no tunnelling of Jaemin’s vision.

No headache.

The threads of gold he’d missed so much peek at the sides of his vision. They’re delicate and they tremble oh so slightly as Chenle’s voice floats into the room, singing along to an old Chinese song Jaemin thinks he might remember from another lifetime while he showers.

A thought intrudes on the normality Jaemin bathes in.

I did that. I made those messages disappear.

But how could he? Jaemin’s magic was ancient, it had never been attuned to electricity, to technology. How could he do it without even thinking about it?

It’s just the universe, off-kilter, correcting itself. It does that sometimes, the humans call it a Mandela Effect—Jaemin enjoys watching confused YouTube videos about it. He giggles, thinking about one he’d watched a few days before.

His fingers brush Renjun’s as he hands Jaemin the coffee and it doesn’t tingle. His palms have stopped burning. The red is completely gone now. His head feels light, the pressure building over the last few days dissipated.

The storm softens into a drizzle as Jeno groans awake, stretching and yawning his way off the sofa. Jaemin watches the droplets chase each other down the glass, collecting at the bottom and dripping out onto the street below. 

He watches, and he thinks.

He thinks of Jungwoo’s messages disappearing from the screen, from the very memory of Chenle’s phone. He thinks of the red curling away into itself, disappearing as the frown appeared on Chenle’s face.

One thing is certain in Jaemin’s mind—full power or not, the universe wants him to know that Chenle needs to be saved from this one. Jungwoo and Chenle aren’t meant to be, and Jaemin is the only one who can fix that.

He is Cupid, after all.

˗ˏˋ જ⁀➴ ˎˊ˗

Chenle dating one of the more popular boys on the football team inevitably brings in more business for Heartbreakers, and even more inevitably, more drama for him to thrive in.

And man, did Chenle thrive in all of the despair and deceit. 

Jungwoo Kim, to Jaemin’s continued dismay, keeps being  a great person, and a good… boyfriend? Chenle hadn’t said the word, didn’t call him anything but his name, didn’t even slip up with a pet name around their friends—but it was obvious to anyone and everyone that’s what they were. Chenle’s commitment issues notwithstanding, he was glowing, a star on it’s way to supernova, every time Jungwoo was there, physically or not. A text message would have Chenle’s cheeks glowing red, biting a smile away from his lips. A hand at his hip would have him stumbling over his next sentence in a way Jaemin had never seen before.

It makes no sense to Jaemin. Chenle is all angles and sharpness where Jungwoo is soft words and soft cheeks and they shouldn’t work. But they do. 

Jaemin watches Chenle burn bright under Jungwoo’s gaze the way you might watch a bonfire on the precipice of growing too big to put out. 

With fear, and a perverse fascination.

Alongside Chenle’s ever growing confidence (Gods help them all) comes an insatiable appetite for the secrets and whispers of Heartbreakers, LLC. The more devotion Jungwoo pours into him, the more dead set Chenle seems to be on everyone else’s relationships ending with a resounding bang.

The day Jeno’s older sister Seulgi walks in holding a crisp fifty dollar note begging to help her break up with a teaching assistant named Chanyeol that she’d become tangled with, Jaemin almost caves. Almost calls it quits on the whole operation.

On his left, legs kicked up against the table, Chenle vibrates with excitement.

“Oh Jeno will love this.”

“No!” Seulgi and Jaemin yell at the same time.

“You fucking idiot,” Seulgi hisses. “Why the hell would I want my little brother to know about this.” 

She smacks Chenle so hard on the top of his head he falls backwards into the wall, almost toppling a bookshelf and earning him a twenty minute scolding from the librarian.

Chenle takes it in his stride, as Chenle does, waving away any anxieties as he opens up the overflowing inbox on their business instagram.

The air around them crackles with Jaemin’s magic as Chenle’s laugh fills the library, too loud. Always too loud. The sound of Chenle and Seulgi arguing fades into white noise as Jaemin thinks back to a few weeks ago.

He’d told Chenle to date Jungwoo. Had made a joke about him being one of the smart ones. All of these problems—they were Jaemin’s own fault. Chenle was his best friend, of course he listened to him.

You should definitely go on a date with Jungwoo.

Jaemin had said that. Jaemin did that. Set in motion the tilt of the axis that has pushed him right to the brink of being able to keep himself stable inside this body.

He can’t bring himself to pretend for much longer, after that realization. 

Every new case leaves a bad taste in his mouth. Metallic, bitter—the way his tongue always tastes when he makes a mistake. Telling Chenle to date Jungwoo had been a mistake. 

What if he’d accidentally added some suggestion magic without even realizing? His magic had already been chaotic—Jungwoo had seen him just the day before when he was supposed to be camouflaged.

It’s happened exactly six times, in all of his millenia. 

Just six.

It was always raining, when Jaemin made a mistake. 

The taste… the taste never leaves Jaemin’s mind.

No more. He thinks to himself. We can’t do this anymore.

I can’t do this anymore.

The moment he thinks it, Chenle thumps him on the back. “Jaemin, you want to grab lunch with me and Woo?”

The red light curls around the sides of his vision again, snaking into all of the other colors and leaving everything blurred. Jaemin swallows hard, presses his fingertips together to stay grounded. Stay in this body.

“It’s not an effective breakup service if everyone knows that you paid someone to orchestrate your breakup.” He mumbles.

Chenle doesn’t hear, or chooses not to. “Hmm? Lunch? We’re going to see Mark and Haech.”

Jaemin pulls himself back, taking out his phone. “Le, we have a client meeting in thirty.”

“Ah fuck.” Chenle’s face drops as he smacks his palm to his forehead. “I didn’t even know we had a meeting before end of classes today. I swear we didn't?"

They didn’t. Or at least, not until Chenle had mentioned Jungwoo and Jaemin had pulled up the Heartbreakers LLC Instagram, messaging their client from this evening to move the meeting to thirty minutes from now.

It’s my job. My divinity. My calling. Jaemin tells himself in his mind as he smiles and nips at Chenle’s sides, causing the boy to crumple in a fit of giggles. This is what the universe wants. This is my job.

“NO! Fuck, you know how ticklish I am you dickhead.” Chenle says wiping a tear from his eyes, dodging away from Jaemin’s prodding fingers.

“You can always meet Jungwoo for dinner instead maybe, that might be nice?” Jaemin lies through his teeth as he pokes at Chenle’s ribs one more time, fuzzy warmth filling him head to toe at the sound of Chenle’s laughter ringing in his ears. 

“Nah, he’s busy with a statistics class later, something about extra credit for an internship. It’s fine, I can go by his house or… I don’t know, see him tomorrow.” Chenle runs his tongue over his teeth then purses his lips. “I guess we can always just grab a late lunch after the meeting, just me and you?”

Something roars inside of Jaemin, something primal, something animal. If you put a gun to his head Jaemin probably wouldn’t care, first of all, but the human side of him still wouldn’t be able to explain the feeling. It rears it’s head the same time that splashes of gold start raining down on top of both of them, like the heavens just opened and pure liquid sunshine was dripping from the skies just for Chenle, and for Jaemin.

“Yeah, Lele.” Jaemin says, beaming. “Lunch just us two would be amazing.”

˗ˏˋ જ⁀➴ ˎˊ˗

Jaemin wakes to the light just beginning to shine through the cracks in his blinds. When he rolls over to his phone, it’s one minute until his alarm again. 

It’s happened every day this week.

No dreams. No real rest. Jaemin didn’t need to sleep, per se… but the humanity of his body was becoming exhausted by the lack of it. He allows himself a few more seconds in the warmth, the comfort of his bed, before he kicks the cover away and stretches. 

Usually, Jaemin’s magic was powerful enough to ward away coldness, illness–all of the malaise humanity suffers from. It had been a lot harder to stay healthy since his bow had gone dark. Since his arrows had stopped shining. 

Since you stopped being a God, his anxiety would whisper in the darkness of night, in the creeping orange hue of the morning dawn, sometimes even in the middle of the day surrounded by the joy and laughter of his friends.

This morning was a hard morning, a chill creeping over him even though his phone tells him it’s already eighteen celsius outside.

There’s a soft knock at his door that Jaemin already knows is Renjun before his whisper of a morning voice floats into the room.

“Jaem? Chenle is here to pick us up, he brought breakfast, says he needs help with something if you can come out.”

“Mmmmmmm.” Jaemin groans back, pulling on a tank top despite the goosebumps creeping up his arms.

It’s hot out. Why do I feel so cold?

Jaemin’s human bodies had gotten sick before, of course, they felt pain, obviously—but the rate at which this body was giving Jaemin problems lately was unprecedented.

The headaches, the glitching magic, none of this had ever happened to Jaemin in the millions of years he’d been switching vessels.

Vessels. 

Such a hollow word. The other deities had always sneered when they said it, below them to move amongst the humans, to put themselves into the tiny shell that made up a humans entire life. 

Jaemin had never felt like that, had always wanted to be closer, to touch, to feel.

He didn’t much want to do any of that these days, maybe the others had been right.

Jaemin takes a deep breath before he opens his bedroom door.

Then he gasps.

He gasps so loud Chenle drops the glass of water he’s pouring from the fridge dispenser.

He gasps because Chenle is glowing.

Not metaphorically, not because he has a big beaming smile or eyes that laugh. He’s literally glowing. A big red hue surrounding him, like an aura.

It’s the brightest red Jaemin has seen since this all started.

“Jesus Christ Jaem you almost scared the soul right out of my body.” Chenle chirps, too happy for this early in the morning. Too happy for someone brushing up glass from the chipped linoleum in Jaemin and Renjun’s kitchen. “You… kinda look like shit bro. Are you good?”

“You do look like shit Jaemin, are you good?” Renjun adds from the couch.

“‘M fine, just tired. Headache. Usual.” Jaemin replies, slapping a smile on. “Jun said you needed help with something Lele?”

The smile drops from Chenle’s face and his brows knit together in a frown. “Yeah… my fucking assignment for Composition class is gone. Like, fucking gone, deleted. Vanished.”

Jaemin pauses, calculates the days—he always has Chenle’s assignment deadlines memorized so Heartbreakers client interviews don’t coincide with them. “That’s… that’s due tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, Jaemin. It’s due tomorrow. It’s five thousand words due tomorrow that have gone fucking poof out of my laptop memory. Sorry. I’m not yelling at you.”

“What the fuck Chenle, how did you manage that?” Renjun stands up, walking towards the kitchen. “Aren’t you supposed to be like, the tech wiz of the group?”

“Har-de-har fuck off Renjun, I didn’t do anything. I checked it this morning to submit early and it was gone. Jungwoo was on my laptop last night searching for something but he swears he didn’t touch it.” Chenle waves his hands frantically as he explains, almost knocking Renjun’s fresh flowers off of the kitchen island.

“Watch the fucking flowers, that's my favorite vase! I’m just trying to help!” Renjun’s face goes red as he raises his voice.

Jaemin feels it then, the tingling in his palm. It starts in the center, tiny and insignificant on any other day. Except it’s this day. And it just. Doesn’t. Stop. It blooms outwards like something is unfurling under his skin. He curls his hand into a fist but that only intensifies the sensation, like he’d thrown a punch into a bag full of pine needles, prickling at every one of his tendons all the way to his wrist.

He flexes his hand and the red aura surrounding Chenle pulses in response.

Fuck.

“Jaemin? You good?” Renjun’s voice sounds further away than he is, wincing as he tries to flick the burning hot toast out of the toaster with his bare hands. “You look like you’re going to pass the fuck out.”

“I… yeah.” Jaemin lies. Too easy this time. “Just a weird hand cramp.”

There really isn’t any way for him to tell the truth. I’m a primordial deity with the power to perceive, create and destroy true bonds of love and Chenle is dating the wrong person and it’s making the universe fall apart via the seams of my magic isn’t really the type of thing you bring up over breakfast.

Chenle doesn’t seem to notice. He’s pacing their living room, running a hand through the fried ends of his dyed-too-black hair. “This is horse shit. I didn’t delete it. Jungwoo wouldn’t have done that either. Five thousand fucking words man.”

“So your boyfriend is a meathead technophobe jock and he accidentally deleted it and he’s too scared to tell you. This doesn’t seem like the big deal you’re making it Le, can’t you check like, the machine… history or something?”

“He’s not my—shut up. He wouldn’t lie about that, and I’ve checked every single inch of this piece of shit’s memory. It’s like the fucking thing never existed.”

The red aura pulses again as Chenle’s anger flares. Jaemin swallows hard.

“Let me see the laptop, Lele.” Jaemin forces out.

Chenle thrusts it into his hands like he’s glad to be rid of it.

The second their fingers touch, a message from Jungwoo slides across the screen—then it’s gone. 

Chenle jolts backwards, hissing as he shakes his hand. “Ow… what the fuck Jaem?"

It didn’t hurt Jaemin, but he felt it too. A spark, static, a discharge of everything building up in Jaemin for every moment Chenle and Jungwoo are together.

“I…dry air, I guess. Sorry, Le.” It rained all night, again. It isn’t even a good lie. Jaemin knows it. Chenle knows it.

Chenle doesn’t say anything about it. He goes back to pacing, tapping his palms against his denim-clad thighs now that he isn’t gripping his laptop.

Renjun eyes Jaemin with a sharp, suspicious frown. “It’s…” He knits his eyebrows together, pursing his lips around the words he wants to say. “Actually. You know what. Never mind.” He turns on his heel towards his own room, leaving Jaemin and Chenle alone.

“Can you fix it, Jaem?” Chenle’s eyes are shiny and pleading and Jaemin’s chest feels tight at the sight of them. “I really… really don’t have time to rewrite this and also see Jungwoo and also do classes today.”

It stings, that Jaemin’s name isn’t on the priority list. That Heartbreakers isn’t on the priority list. They have client meetings before and after lunch today, but Jaemin doesn’t want to press the matter when Chenle is this stressed. “I… I can try. Let me sit down with it for a few minutes.”

Jaemin’s palms still tingle, aching to reach for the bow and the arrows he hasn’t been able to use for months… years at this point. Whatever this magic is, it isn’t magic Jaemin knows how to control.

It scares him to death.

It feels the same and entirely different all in the same moment, it feels like he could change the world with a snap of his fingers but he would have no idea what the outcome is going to be.

He flexes his fingers, lets the tingling run right to the tips, and channels all of the energy in his body to the point where his hand meets Chenle’s laptop. He drags his fingers over the keyboard, achingly slowly and watches the screen flash red, blue, red again, green, then black. 

Okay. He thinks. So it does work with technology.

He tries moving his hand faster, and this time a hundred different windows pop-up - the portal their college uses for assignment submissions, tabs upon tabs of research, a youtube window with the Inception OST loaded and played halfway through. He smiles and the sound blares out of the laptop suddenly, scaring both Jaemin and Chenle into cursing at the same time.

“Fuck…”

“What the fuck?” Chenle starts towards the sofa where Jaemin had sat himself, the laptop on his lap, and bounces down next to him—almost sending the laptop crashing to the floor. “Oh—shit, sorry.”

Jaemin tenses where his fingers hover above the keyboard. “I–I-uh…”

“If you wanted to check my study playlist you could have asked? Here–” Chenle reaches over, tongue between his teeth as he maneuvers the mouse to open a new tab. “I wrote it in Google Docs.”

The heat from his body sets Jaemin on edge, and he doesn’t know why. His heart stutters in his chest, and Chenle’s laptop screen goes completely black and then a brilliant bright white that makes both of them squint.

Then the words. Reams of them, page after page of Chenle’s writing appear on the document.

“Oh my God.” Chenle is glowing again, and Jaemin bites down a gasp. “You did it. I don’t know what the fuck you did but you did it. You are my favorite fucking person on this entire planet.” Chenle grabs Jaemin’s face and plants his lips, soft and plump, against Jaemin’s cheek.

Jaemin doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. Doesn’t dare.

The glow around Chenle is a brilliant gold again, the red nowhere to be seen, shining in a way that would have driven King Midas to madness.

“I… Chenle… I’m not feeling good. I’ll reschedule our Heartbreakers meetings, go get your classes done, see—see Jungwoo.” It feels like venom when he says it, like he needs to throw up, purge his body of the name. “I’m gonna—bed—yeah.”

“I–okay.” Chenle’s face falls. “I’ll–uh–just give Jun a ride. Feel… better, Jaem. I’m really—we’re all, worried about you.”

˗ˏˋ જ⁀➴ ˎˊ˗

Jaemin falls to his knees as soon as his bedroom door closes. The gold still dusts the corners of his vision like it’s been permanently burned into his eyes.

It should feel good. Gold is always good, when his magic is concerned.

Gold meant joy, it meant happiness.

It meant love.

Which is exactly why Jaemin’s stomach roils, twisting against itself as he squeezes his eyes shut against the color still haunting him, even with the door closed between himself and Chenle.

Because Chenle isn’t gold when he’s with Jungwoo.

He’s gold when he’s with Jaemin.

Jaemin sits back on his heels and presses his palm into his sternum, hard, like it might slow the way his heart is hammering against his chest.

He drags a deep breath in through his nose, taking in everything that feels normal to him. The musky detergent Renjun uses to wash all of their clothes. The coffee smell that’s clung to his carpet since he spilled his the other day. The damp of the bathroom, too hard to dry fully in the humidity of the beginning of summer. It’s so normal it almost feels like a joke.

Because what is normal about the way Jaemin’s heart stopped when Chenle’s lips touched his cheek?

What is normal about the way Jaemin didn’t push him away, make a noise of disgust like he usually does when the others do it, didn’t even recoil?

Nothing. 

There’s nothing normal about the coil of warmth that has settled in his stomach that springs open and shut every time he remembers the way Chenle’s lips felt against his cheek.

Nothing normal about the softness he feels growing alongside the pounding in his chest.

Nothing normal about the feeling Jaemin hasn’t felt for himself in thousands and thousands of years.

“No…” His breath trembles as he says it out loud to no one. “No. No no no no.”

It’s just the stress. The magic fucking up. It has to be.

Jaemin doesn’t love Chenle.

Jaemin doesn’t love. Especially not mortals. 

Not again. Never again.

He’s just worried about Chenle. Frightened about the instability of the magic. Responsible for all of the problems—for pushing Chenle towards Jungwoo in the first place.

He growls as he pushes himself up from the ground and stomps towards his closet. Towards the pile of clothes, and the useless weapons of his divinity nestled into them. The clothes sway to the side as he yanks open the door and stares them down. They mock him with their lack of response, and he growls again as heat rises up his chest.

He throws the bow onto his bed, the quiver following quickly, bouncing as it lands in the center.

He stops himself, for a moment, and just stares. Stares at them on his very human bed, in his very human room. The bowstring would glow just the same hue Chenle had earlier, brighter than the first sun after a long winter night. It lies, black as the night outside the window, and it doesn’t glow. Doesn’t hum. Doesn’t respond to Jaemin’s fury at all. He falls to his knees again, elbows propped on the side of his bed. 

Arcum. He begs in his mind, willing the plea through his fingers into the magic weaving through the wood of the bow, curving in the vines that decorate her limbs. Help me.

He’d named her millenia ago. They’d named the entire sport of archery after her. His beloved companion, the literal extension of himself. 

His entire divinity.

“Wake up.” He whispers. “Arcum wake up. Please. He can’t get hurt. I can’t help him without you. Please.”

Silence. Deafening, dead, silence.

His chest caves. “You’re supposed to guide me… I made you to guide my hand, to put all of the love in the world in the right places. I can’t control my hands anymore Arcum. I can’t keep everything right without you. Please come back to me.”

Nothing.

The room feels too small, his skin feels too tight. His veins feel fuzzy, like someone picked him up and shook him like a can of soda and he’s ready to burst.

“You worked for everything else. For everyone. For strangers in the street, idiots who didn’t deserve us, didn’t deserve the love we gave them. Centuries, millenia, you’ve worked. Why won’t you work now?” He curls his hand around the bow and stands up. “I need you. He needs you.” His voice rises, getting louder as he squeezes harder, feels the anger fill him to the brim. “Why won’t you work when I need you?”

The gold color flickers across his eyes again, reaching out, like it wants to touch the bow and the quiver. 

It doesn’t. 

“Fuck this.” His voice shakes as he picks up the quiver in his other hand. “You give me nothing. This magic is nothing.”

He hurls the bow and quiver at the wall opposite his bed as hard as he can and they hit the wall with a crack that should have been a warning to Jaemin, but the bubble of scorn in his brain is too big, too ready to burst.

The blast of magic detonates through his room like a bomb.

Not gold, like the threads of love he usually sews.

Not red, the nasty, angry red that had been creeping around Chenle.

Not even the neon green that had tickled his ribs when Chenle had first mentioned Jungwoo.

This magic is blacker than black, darker than any of the ancient fiends that Jaemin had fought into the depths of the hells. It’s mute, doesn’t make a sound, but is somehow louder than anything Jaemin has ever heard in all of the eras he’s been alive.

The impact scorches a perfect black mark into the wallpaper, in exactly the shape of his bow and quiver. They stay suspended there for a fraction of a second before they fall to the floor in a pile of ashes and Jaemin’s throat closes.

“No, fuck—Arcum—no, I didn’t—no.” He scrambles, pressing the pads of his fingers into the dust like it might reverse what he did. “Fuck.”

His wings shove violently against his spine as the panic rises in his throat.

He has to fix this. He has to find a way to make Chenle see the truth. 

If Chenle and Jungwoo stay together, someone is going to get hurt.

He doesn’t know how much longer he can keep everything below the surface. Not while they’re together. Not while the universe snakes a hand around his neck and squeezes, squeezes all of the breath out of his lungs and whispers that they’re wrong.

Jaemin needs to break them apart and he needs to do it the human way, before something terrible happens.

˗ˏˋ જ⁀➴ ˎˊ˗

He doesn’t emerge for over twenty-four hours, despite Renjun’s insistence and sly tactics. He even brings Jisung to plead, whispering under the door about finally going to the gym with him and Jeno. They’ve been trying to get Jisung to go with them for over a year.

He doesn’t even come out when he hears Chenle humming, bustling around in a kitchen that isn’t his, but he uses more often than his own. He doesn’t even breathe when Chenle knocks. 

Once.

Twice.

“Jaem? Please just say something so we know you’re okay? So I know you’re okay?”

He doesn’t come out, but he does swallow thickly around words as he forces them out. “I’ll be fine, Lele. I’ll be fine soon. Tell everyone to stop worrying.”

Renjun yells for twenty minutes afterwards about loyalty, and how living together means nothing these days and something about Mark that makes colors swim across Jaemin’s vision again until he’s nauseous. He’ll deal with that later.

The apartment is empty when he finally opens the door. He knows, because Renjun always smells like sage and sea-salt and the scent is nowhere to be found. 

Something catches his eye, neon green and sticking up from the kitchen island. A post-it note.

Dinner is in the fridge if you’re up to it, I made it, I promise Renjun had nothing to do with it. Text me if you want a ride tomorrow, I moved all of our client meetings to next week. I miss you. ❤️ - Le.

Jaemin traces his fingers over the scribbled heart and his gut flips. He tears the note away from the counter and shoves it into his pocket. 

It stays there while he heats up the dakgalbi Chenle had made for him. 

It stays there as he washes the dregs of it down the drain, scrubbing at the sauce staining his plate.

It stays as he gets back into bed and opens up the group chat for the first time in over a day.

bigandyp: chenle did you hear from jaem?

godofbasketball: nothing since he spoke to me through the door earlier today, he’s been so off recently, and so sick… i really dont know what to do 

badgaljunjun: if your dakgalbi doesnt bring him out of that room i think we might have to get jeno to break the door down with his bare hands

bigandyp: i would like to see it

pocketfulofsunshine: oh im sure jisung

bigandyp: what is that supposed to mean hyung

bigdickbigdreams: haech don’t tease him

bigandyp: what does THAT mean. what are you teasing me about

badgaljunjun: jisung please

samojjed: i can go over and check on him now if you want junnie? 

bigandyp: ill come jeno hyung! 

pocketfulofsunshine: if i say it again yall will say im the bad person

godofbasketball: if were done letting jisung pretend he doesnt want to have sex with jeno, can we get back to jaemin?

bigandyp: i-

bigandyp has left the chat

samojjed: i’ll run down to the quad and meet him, chenle shut the fuck up forever

godofbasketball: why am i being blamed for this when haechan hyung brought it up

pocketfulofsunshine: i just have more tact than you lele let’s face facts

Jaemin sighs and swipes away from the chat to Jisung’s contact and hits the call button. Jisung picks up before the first ring even ends.

“Hyung! You’re alive! Well I knew you were alive but you’re like, talking to other people that aren’t Chenle! How are you feeling?” Jisung sniffles at the end of the sentence and Jaemin’s heart wrenches.

“I saw the group chat Jisungie. Do you want to come over?” Jaemin tries not to sound like he’s pitying Jisung too much. “You can have some of the dakgalbi Chenle made, it’s fucking delicious actually.”

Jisung sniffs again, then giggles. “As expected, he saves all of his best cooking for his favorite hyung. You don’t—you don’t think it’s weird, right hyung? That I like Jeno hyung?”

His favorite hyung. Jaemin barely hears the rest of Jisung’s sentence. Why does that make his skin feel so warm?

“I–uh—huh? No, Jwi, I don’t think it’s weird. Jeno is fucking hot. Why would Chenle save all of his best cooking for me? He cooks for Mark more than me, surely?” Jaemin tries not to sound desperate, but there’s something strained in his voice.

“Mark hyung is usually at the cafe, it’s been a while since he was even home at the same time as Chenle as far as I know hyung. Renjun hyung is always complaining he comes home to you two in the kitchen together. I’ll be at your place in forty, probably. Traffic looks like it’s bad on the way downtown.” Jisung sniffs again, but it’s shorter this time, like he’s clearing the remnants of his crying out of his system. “Thanks, hyung. Love you!”

Jaemin’s heart races as Jisung clicks out of the call. He doesn’t want to think about why and flicks his phone back to the group chat.

demon: jwi is coming to my place ill talk to him jen, dont run around the quad searching for him or anything

samojjed: jaem omg how are you feeling? ill run over to the gym ig its raining so theres no point getting wet outside

pocketfulofsunshine: of course the baby being woeful would bring jaemin out of hiding

demon: haechan would you like to die today?

pocketfulofsunshine: no sir no maam

This message has been deleted.

demon: see, its so easy to be nice, we don’t bring up the fact you cried about renjun for six months last year do we

badgaljunjun: omg throwback

pocketfulofsunshine: fuck off jaemin

bigdickbigdreams: wait was that before or after he tried to kiss jeno on that night out

pocketfulofsunshine: ENOUGH!!!!

They prod at Haechan for another half an hour before he also leaves the group chat, and then Jeno sends six dog videos in a row that make Jaemin’s stomach ache with how cute they look.

The knock at the door startles him, after the most normal few moments he had had in days.

Jisung is a little rain dishevelled, but smiling as he jumps through the doorway and brings Jaemin in for a hug.

Jaemin almost forgets about the universe splitting in half as he pulls back and Jisung’s smile is even wider. He squeezes at his cheeks and coos. “Ah… Jisungie, under love’s heavy burden do you sink.”

“Romeo and Juliet, really hyung?” Jisung tries to push him away, but there’s no strength behind it. “Let me grab some of that chicken, it smells so good. Are you really feeling better hyung?” Jisung talks as he works, clanging everything in the cupboards at a too-high volume with his clumsiness. “Chenle was so worried he cancelled a date with Jungwoo so he could cook this for you.”

Chenle was so worried he cancelled a date with Jungwoo so he could cook this for you.

Jaemin tries not to sound too gleeful. “Oh? Damn. That’s good.” Miss. 

“You… sound a little too happy about that hyung? Is there something going on?” Jisung’s brows knit together in confusion. “Or… are you just happy about the food?”

Jaemin’s panic gets the better of him. “I–I—I mean, I’m just grateful he would cancel something so important to help me feel better, and-the–the food is good of course. Yeah.”

Jisung doesn’t believe a word of it. “Rrriight… is there something wrong with Jungwoo? You get a bad vibe hyung? Like when you help people with the Heartbreakers?”

Jisung sounds so genuinely concerned, so genuinely interested in why Jaemin would feel this way, that Jaemin’s eyes start to prickle with tears. “I—it’s just…”

“Hyung?” Jisung puts down the food he was about to eat and walks towards Jaemin. “Is it really that bad? Did he do something we don’t know about?”

“No!” Jaemin blurts too quick, too loud. “No. Nothing like that. It’s just… it feels wrong, Jwi. When they’re together something doesn’t feel right. Just… wrong…” He trails off without fully explaining.

Like the universe can’t stand another second of them together. 

Like nothing will ever be right again.

Like this entire thing might rip Jaemin’s divinity away from him and burn a hole in the existence of humanity.

Jisung sits comfortably with him in the silence as Jaemin’s brain spins, eating as quietly as he can, his eyes flicking back and forth between Jaemin and his plate.

Finally, as he finishes, he speaks. “Hyung… Chenle would listen to you, he always listens to you about that stuff. You should just tell him that something feels wrong.”

Jaemin knows. He knows Chenle would listen.

Jaemin just isn’t sure if Chenle will still speak to him afterwards, or ever again.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, dragging his mind back to the here and now.

godofbasketball: did anyone hear from jaem or jwi?

demon: he’s here, he’s fine, he’s eating all of your dakgalbi

godofbasketball: what about you jaem? are you okay?

Jaemin starts typing a reply when a notification pings from Instagram and his heart almost stops.

sugaringcandy: hey dude, can we grab a coffee or something and talk? its about chenle

Jaemin stares at the message until his eyes cross and his vision bleeds into a blur.

“Jwi, you wanna stay here until Jun comes home? I gotta run out and do something?”

Jisung nods enthusiastically and kicks back on the sofa, feet up on the table in a way Jaemin knows Renjun will scold him for when he gets home.

“Fuck yeah, hyung can I eat the rest of the food Chenle left for you? Is that cool?”

Jaemin nods, thumbing out a reply to Jungwoo as he chews on his lip.

na.jaemin0813: sure, when and where?

˗ˏˋ જ⁀➴ ˎˊ˗

It’s raining again. Of course.

By the time Jaemin reaches the cafe, the drizzle has turned into a downpour that soaks him to his bones. Jungwoo is easy to spot in his varsity jacket, but Haechan and Mark make it ten times easier with the way they're staring from behind the counter. They both scramble as Jaemin walks in, pretending to do… well nothing, in Mark’s case, he’s just turned to face the wall. Haechan is pouring fresh creamer down the sink, looking everywhere except at Jaemin as he walks to the counter.

“You two are the least subtle people on Earth, do you know that?” Jaemin sighs, throwing ten dollars down onto the counter. “Give me something strong Haechan, try not to burn it please.”

“If I don’t burn it will you let us listen to whatever the hell this is about?” Haechan replies, wiggling his eyebrows. “He told us he was meeting you, and not to tell Chenle, and I am so invested my dick is like actually hard.”

“What the fuck Haechan?” Mark turns around. “There is something so deeply wrong with you.”

“Yeah, Markie just gimme something out of the refrigerator, Haech if I catch you eavesdropping I’ll post on the Heartbreakers instagram that you started the chlamydia outbreak at that Sig Nu party a few weeks ago.” Jaemin clicks his tongue as he turns, ignoring Haechan’s spluttering protest.

Jungwoo’s face is grim, but as Jaemin walks over he tries to force a smile. “Jaemin… thank you, for coming I mean.”

“You said it was about Chenle, what’s going on?” Jaemin says as he sits opposite Jungwoo. “Did something happen?”

“Yes, to you.” Jungwoo taps his fingers on the table. “You’ve been sick right? It’s all he talks about lately.” His tone is sharp. Biting.

“I—yeah?” Jaemin feels his chest constrict. “You… sound angry? That I was sick?”

Jungwoo sneers. “You’re not sick, are you?”He pulls a piece of paper out of his bag and throws it on the table. “You’ve never taken a sick day in two years at this college until the last few weeks. You never even existed in this town until the year your started at NEO. I can’t find shit about you Jaemin, no photos before orientation, no family history. My ex-boyfriend keet cancelling on me to fester alone worrying about you. So how about you tell me what the fuck is going on?” 

He’s loud. So loud the others in the cafe are starting to look over. Jaemin doesn’t need to look behind him to know Haechan’s eyes are almost popping out of his head.

“I—” Jaemin’s palms are sweating, the muscles in his shoulders twitching with nerves. “Ex? Boyf-I-Jungwoo I don’t know what you mean but can you stop yelling.” He glances left and right. “Why would I pretend to be sick?”

“You tell me Jaemin.” Jungwoo leans forward, the anger gone from his face. “Because I lost him for days at a time every time you got sick. This time was the worst, Jaemin. Whatever you were doing for twenty four whole hours in that room had Chenle so worried he broke up with me.”

“He what?” Jaemin doesn’t mean for it to come out strangled, but it does. His throat closes around the words and he swallows hard.

Jungwoo rubs his hands over his face and sits back in his chair again. “He tried. Showed up at my place at three a.m. this morning. Didn’t text—didn’t even fucking knock. Just walked in and said we should stop seeing each other.” He’s quieter now, like the anger buried itself somewhere deep and only exhaustion was left.

“I—he didn’t say anything to us. To me.” Jaemin stutters. “Jungwoo I didn’t—”

“He said he couldn’t focus on us. Couldn’t sleep. Said every time he wasn’t with you he felt like something terrible might happen, that he had to talk to you, to check you were okay.”

Jaemin grips the table like it’s his only life-line. Every time he wasn’t with you he felt like something terrible might happen.

How Chenle of him, to be right on the money without knowing a single truth about any of it. 

“I don’t—why are you talking to me and not him, Jungwoo?” Jaemin whispers around everything still lodged in his throat.

“I asked him if something happened to you, he said no, you were just sick, not replying to anyone. I asked if you two had some kind of fight, he said no. So then I asked him if he was in love with you—”

“You–I—what?” Jaemin’s pulse roars in his ears, his heart pounding painfully against his ribcage.

“...He said yes, in more words.” Jungwoo’s voice wavers. “So that was fucking shitty.”

Jaemin can’t breathe. His chest is heavy, a twenty-person pile of guilt pressing down on him as Jungwoo looms above him. “I—I don’t—I didn’t–”

“Something is pulling you two together like… I don’t know like fucking magnets man. Whatever the fuck game this is I–” Jungwoo’s voice breaks. “I’m losing. Jaemin. So I need to know before I waste any more time. Do you love him? Am I chasing something that isn’t ever going to happen?”

A flicker of red pulses at the edges of Jaemin’s vision, but he blinks it away.

Not here. 

Not now. 

in front of Jungwoo—not when he’s pouring his heart out like this. 

Jaemin wishes the floor would swallow him whole.

“Your silence says more than anything else, Jaemin.” Jungwoo adds, softer.

“I—Jungwoo I didn’t—I don’t—” Jaemin can barely form words. “I didn’t want this.”

“I know.” Jungwoo says. “If I thought you’d done it on purpose I would have just asked Johnny to punch you.” He manages a laugh. 

Jaemin looks up to meet his eyes. They’re glassy, but steady, focused on all of the ways Jaemin’s hands shake, the way his muscles twitch.

“Jungwoo, I’m sorry.”

“If you care about him as much as it seems like you do, Jaemin.” Jungwoo exhales, shaky. “Stop whatever is going on lately, before it hurts you, or him. It already hurt me, don’t let it get worse.”

Something in Jaemin’s mind snaps into place and he feels the magic in him start humming. In his ribs first, then to the tips of his fingers and his toes. The red that he’d been pushing back from his vision starts to swirl into a bright, brilliant gold.

“I–Jungwoo I have to go.” Jaemin chokes out.

“Yeah,” Jungwoo whispers back before standing, his coffee untouched at the table. “Yeah, you do.”

˗ˏˋ જ⁀➴ ˎˊ˗

A crack of thunder rattles the window Jaemin is walking past and he flinches.

This storm isn’t normal, and it’s all because of him. 

Jaemin felt it, felt the magic brimming under the surface, trying to wake up, trying to come back to him—but it still wasn’t quite there.

He needs to find Chenle.

His prayers are answered as he runs across the quad and sees a familiar figure, clad in a hoodie too thin for the rain, his phone to his ear as he hunches against the downpour.

Jaemin’s phone starts ringing and he stops in his tracks.

Lele is calling. His screen tells him in bright words, too bright for the thundering grey of the sky.

“Chenle.” 

Chenle whips around, flinging raindrops out of the ends of his hair. His nose is pink from the cold, brows drawn tight with worry. “Jaem–! Fuck. Haechan just text saying Jungwoo blew up at you in the cafe and you ran out into the rain. What the hell happened?”

Jaemin tries to move forward and has to stop three steps away. Chenle is glowing so golden, so bright Jaemin is afraid it might blind him permanently, might swallow them both into the center of the sun and burn them up like they’re nothing.

He can’t breathe.

Can’t think.

All he can feel is the thrumming in his veins, the magic pressing against his skin, begging for release.

“Chenle, we need to talk.” Jaemin’s voice cracks in the middle and he turns his head, squinting at the white-hot light surrounding Chenle. 

Chenle steps forward, because of course he does. His hands reach out, fingers curling towards Jaemin’s wrist. As soon as their skin meets, Jaemin flinches out of Chenle’s grip.

White-hot, excruciating fire burns through his veins, electricity straight to the centre of his heart. Jaemin recoils, shaking his head. “D-don’t—don’t touch me Le. Not right now.”

Chenle freezes, rain dripping from his eyelashes as confusion washes over his face. “Jaem? What is going on? Are you hurt? Why were you with Jungwoo? Why is he mad? What the hell—”

“Chenle. Stop.” Questions, so many questions. Too much, too many words, too few inches between Chenle’s outstretched hand as he steps forward again. “Please.”

Chenle swallows, staring at him through the sheets of rain drenching the both of them. “Jaemin… you’re scaring me. Just tell me what’s going on.”

Jaemin squeezes his eyes shut, nails biting into his palms. “Everything Le, everything is wrong.”

The wind howls around them, the rain sharp, cold daggers staining both of their faces with ruddy red blotches. 

Chenle steps forward again. 

Because he’s Chenle.

“Jaem, talk to me. Please. You’ve been acting so strange… you’ve been so sick. This isn’t the Jaemin I—” Chenle stops himself dead in the middle of the sentence and gasps. “Oh my God.”

Jaemin’s words come out shaky and broken. “If I tell you—I can’t, Le, I can’t explain, just—you need to give me time to fix this, otherwise everything is going to get worse.”

“Worse than this?!” Chenle flails his arms at the sky, at the wind tearing through the branches of the trees, bending them to it’s will. “How could it get worse than this shit?”

Jaemin growls against the rain battering his face, blinks away the raindrops smearing his vision. When his eyes meet Chenle’s, the gold bursts. 

It splits into hues of red and green so bright that the sky changes, illuminated in all of the different shades.

Then, beneath all of the hues—the darkness.

The same shadow that had burned Arcum into ashes.

“Chenle, I’m not who you think I am. You need to go. You need to leave.” The last part is barely a whisper as the rain chokes him. “Chenle, go.”

“Jaemin what does that even mean? What is going on. I’m not leaving you in the middle of this fucking storm, let’s just go to my car and we can—”

“Chenle I am so fucking scared right now.” Jaemin drops to his knees, his ears ringing as the shadow creeps closer. “I am so fucking scared and you need to leave before something very bad happens. Please.”

“Jaemin.” Chenle is inches away from him, fingers reaching out to touch again. “Just tell me, please. I love you.”

The magic detonates straight from the center of Jaemin’s chest before he’s even processed the words. It rips a scream right out from the depths of Jaemin’s throat as his wings tear through the back of his shirt in a blaze of golden light that batters at the black, thick shadow that had been circling them.

Chenle’s eyes go wide, his mouth falls open and he takes a single staggering step backwards.

For one single, impossibly slow heartbeat—the world stops. The rain freezes midair, pausing it’s assault on the both of them. The storm holds it’s breath as Jaemin and Chenle stare at each other.

Chenle doesn’t move. 

He doesn’t scream, he doesn’t run. He doesn’t do anything Jaemin had imagined every time he’d thought about revealing the truth.

After what feels like an eternity, as Jaemin’s wings start to ache to move, to feel the wind underneath them, Chenle takes one step forward again.

“Jaemin. You have wings.” He whispers, voice dripping with awe.

“Chenle…” 

“Jaemin what the fuck. You have wings.” 

He doesn’t sound afraid. He doesn’t sound angry, or even… bothered. He doesn’t turn tail and run away screaming, he doesn’t yell for help, or call the police. Nothing that Jaemin’s mind had promised him would happen.

“You shouldn’t be seeing me like this.” He lets his head fall, eyes to the ground. “I’m not supposed to let people see me like this.” He startles as Chenle’s grabs his face in both hands. “Le, what are you—”

Then Chenle is kissing him. 

It’s soft at first, like Chenle isn’t sure if Jaemin is still real, still right there in front of him.

Jaemin shivers as Chenle’s hands slide down his neck, fingertips brushing over his shoulders and then around. He surges forward as Chenle’s touch meets his wings, all of the confusion, the desperation, everything Jaemin has been forcing into the back of his mind crashing to the forefront.

He gasps into Chenle’s mouth and it feels like every nerve-ending in his body lights up all at once. Chenle’s fingers brush the feathers at the base of his wings and the noise that leaves Jaemin’s mouth is halfway between a sob and a moan.

The gold threads that had been swirling around his vision for weeks, for months—for two years if Jaemin really thought about it, explode outwards, like a floodlight across the entire college campus.

The clouds split down the middle as the light pierces them, and the storm breaks. Not slowly, the way the summer rain in Seoul eases into a light drizzle.

It stops completely. One second drowning the city in its wet embrace and the next second gone, like it had never existed in the first place. 

Jaemin breaks the kiss, pushing at Chenle’s hands. “We shouldn’t—this isn’t—I can’t–”

“Shut up,” Chenle says, gentle, as he pulls Jaemin close again with a hand at the back of his head. “I’m not going anywhere, so stop being stubborn.”

Jaemin’s wings twitch violently, a physical manifestation of the way Jaemin’s heart stutters. “Chenle, we really—”

Chenle puts a hand up to his mouth to stop him, dragging his eyes up and down Jaemin’s body. “Also, you are so beautiful. The wings are… magical.”

“Chenle you don’t—I’m not supposed to love mortals. This isn’t real, this isn’t my body, this isn’t me. My name isn’t even Jaemin—”

“So reintroduce yourself.” Chenle replies, unphased. “I do have some questions about why you chose such a beautiful face to match your beautiful soul if you weren’t going to let anyone fall in love with it.”

Jaemin swallows, hard. He feels the magic inside him shift, pulsing through his veins.

Then it settles.

His palm tingles, and he almost throws Chenle away in shock. 

“Chenle, stand back.” He drags himself to his feet as the tingling centers on his right wrist and he takes a deep breath. 

Chenle doesn’t move at first, worry lining his features again. Jaemin only has to smile and nod for Chenle to listen and take three steps back, just enough that Jaemin is out of arm’s reach.

“Jaemin… what’s—”

Jaemin just smiles. 

Then he lets the warmth of the sun breaking through the sky slide over him, lets it wash down to the pinpricking in his palms. The golden colors that have been plaguing him, haunting him, dancing around Chenle—that was his magic. 

All wrapped up in a mortal, dragging them together with all of it’s might as Jaemin fought back with sharp claws and sharper words. 

Arcum. He says her name like a prayer in his mind. I’m sorry for not listening.

But she does, Jaemin feels it in the way his skin unfurls around his wrist, the golden threads weaving from the very fibre of him to spiral upwards into the air and glint in the sunlight.

One more thread.

Then two more.

Then there are hundreds of threads twisting together midair with impossible precision, moving with the mark of something very intelligent—and very ancient.

As the threads finally take the shape of Jaemin’s bow, they finish with a flourish, carving a new set of flowers into the limbs. 

Chenle gasps as Jaemin bites his lip, probably realizing at the same time what flowers they are.

The unmistakable hanging bell shape of the Korean Barberry twists it’s way around Arcum’s body. Chenle’s birthday flower.

The bowstring forms last as Arcum fits herself back against Jaemin’s hand, vibrating with a frequency that makes the air around them hum.

She’s the same as she always has been, Jaemin’s forever companion through every era of love since the dawn of time. 

But at the same time, she is completely different. Warmer, brighter. The way she glows for a few seconds when Jaemin guides a true, soulmate bond. She came from him, from his magic, his truth—his true, real love.

Jaemin can barely speak as he runs his free hand over her, really feels her, takes in the warmth pulsing from within her.

He can barely speak.

“She…” His voice cracks. “She shouldn’t be able to re-form. She was made with the original threads that created the universe. She—”

Chenle steps closer, slowly. “Let’s cap that thing about the original threads of the universe and talk about that more later because what? She what? What could mimic something as powerful as the original creation of existence?”

Jaemin looks up at Chenle. Really looks at him.

His hair is plastered to his forehead with rain, cheeks still pink from the cold and even pinker with the adrenaline. His chest is heaving, like he’s struggling to breathe—and Jaemin wants to kiss him again so fucking bad.

“You. Lele.” Jaemin’s throat feels tight. “Or, rather, the way we feel about each other. I didn’t even—you and Jungwoo—”

“I broke up with him this morning, whatever he says to the contrary. He asked if I was in love with you and I—”

“He told me.” Jaemin closes his fist, pulling Arcum inside, into hiding. “He told me you said you did,”

Chenle laughs, then. Loud. Jaemin would swear the sun got brighter as the sound rings across the quad. 

“So he didn't tell you the full story?” Chenle wipes a tear from his eye and his face darkens. “I told him I had loved you since the first time I saw you in line on the first day. I told him it was something I could never have because you had never showed any interest in anyone or anything except Heartbreakers. I told him it didn’t change that I wanted to try and love him too, but I didn't know if I could while you were so sick.”

Jaemin’s heart skips painfully. “That’s… you said that?”

Chenle shrugs, but there’s a streak of something painful in the corner of his eyes. “I didn’t think you felt the same Jaem. You never—you always acted like it was impossible. That love didn’t apply to you.”

“Chenle…” Jaemin says, closing the distance between them one more time. “It didn’t. It shouldn’t. Not with mortals. Not after—the last time I—”

“Psyche, right? I listened in Classics lectures.” Chenle looks sheepish. “You are Cupid, right? I’m not just hallucinating and—”

Jaemin kisses him then. 

Not graceful and gentle like the first time. 

This one is desperate. This one sets off fireworks in Jaemin’s chest and he can feel his wings shuddering with the intensity of it.

Chenle startles into it at first, then melts instantly. His hands fly up to Jaemin’s jaw to pull him in closer like he’s waited the entire two years they’ve known each other for this exact moment.

Jaemin pulls away first, resting his forehead against Chenle’s. “Don’t—don’t say her name. Not when I’m choosing you—choosing this. I never lost my magic over her, my magic caused her. I chose you, and my magic chose you when it stopped working the minute we met.”

Chenle’s mouth drops open. “It—what?”

Jaemin steps back and holds out his hand, smiling as Chenle links their fingers together. “Maybe I loved you the whole two years too, Chenle Zhong, and it just took me this long to realize.”

˗ˏˋ જ⁀➴ ˎˊ˗

It’s unreal that nobody caught them, really, not a single soul walked through the quad and saw Jaemin with his full wingspan, nobody saw them making out as the storm broke, nobody saw anything at all.

Which, excellent. Jaemin hates using suggestion magic to make people forget when they accidentally see something they shouldn’t.

Chenle gifts Jaemin his wet hoodie to cover the holes in the back of his shirt, and they have to stop for another five minutes of kissing on the way to Chenle’s car.

As they drive to Jaemin and Renjun’s apartment, Jaemin doesn’t even have to think about it. He links their fingers together over the central console and Chenle smiles so bright Jaemin swears it would put Arcum to shame.

“Darling, can you text the group chat to meet at your apartment? We should… probably tell them?” Chenle keeps his eyes on the road but thumbs a circle into Jaemin’s hand as he says it.

Jaemin’s heart hammers as he unlocks Chenle’s phone and opens up the group chat.

godofbasketball: hey its jaem

godofbasketball: go to mine and jun’s place, lele will cook, we have something to tell you

pocketfulofsunshine: y’all fucked

bigdickbigdreams: jaemin would never let chenle cheat on someone period, nevermind with him

godofbasketball: chenle and jungwoo broke up this morning

badgaljunjun: oh my god haechan is right they fucked

godofbasketball: we didn’t fuck can you all just go to the apartment please

Jaemin switches back to his own phone, giggling to himself.

demon: not yet anyway

demon: give me a few hours

bigandyp: i take a nap on your sofa and this is what i miss

samojjed: jwi if ur there can u let me in?

badgaljunjun: if YOU two have sex on my sofa before anyone else gets there i will be furious jeno lee this is your warning 

By the time they reach the apartment, Jaemin’s heart is thundering so hard in his chest he can feel the pounding in his ears. He hesitates at the door, only pushing forward when Chenle squeezes his fingers in silent reassurance.

He exhales slowly as he opens the door, unprepared for the five bodies that come crashing into him.

“Oh my GOD Jaemin—”

“Please don’t hide for a whole day again we—”

“Jaemin hyung I can feel your dick against my leg—”

“Enough! Free my boyfriend from your nasty hands!” Chenle pulls him back out of the door into the safety of the corridor and they all fall backwards into the apartment with their mouths open.

“Boy? Friend?” Mark tilts his head to the side. “Man, Lele, there’s like, an incubation period—”

“Chenle has been in love with Jaemin for years. This cannot be a surprise to any of you. Am I the only one who noticed?” Haechan leans backwards against the kitchen island, unimpressed.

"No, you aren't." Renjun snaps. "Stop being so smug and let them speak."

“Turns out Jaemin has been in love with Chenle for years too…” Jaemin rubs at the back of his neck as he says it. “Jaemin just uh… has a lot of shit going on that he also needs to tell you all about, can we go to the sofa?”

They scatter like startled animals, fighting over who gets the comfy cushion on the left side of the sofa.

Jaemin stands in the doorway as he watches them all settle, five pairs of eyes on him. He’s so scared. He’s so fucking scared.

“Hey,” Chenle leans into his ear. “You’ve fought like, ancient demons and shit. For millions of years. This is just a bunch of college boys.”

“The scariest brand of demon there is.” Jaemin replies, pressing a kiss to Chenle’s temple. “They didn’t have Haechan either, he was really sent to this plane of existence to test me.”

“I can fucking hear you, you ass!” Haechan yells from where he’s draped across Mark and Renjun as they try and fail to kick him onto the ground.

It takes a few more minutes of scrapping and scrambling before everyone is settled enough for Jaemin to clear his throat and step in front of them.

“Okay,” it comes out thick, sticking at the sides of his throat. “First thing—I’m not human.”

There’s a beat of silence a little too long for Jaemin’s liking, then—

“Well no shit, Jaemin. I’ve been telling people you’re an extra-terrestrial in a human skin for months now.” Haechan scoffs. “Tell us something we don’t know.”

Jaemin rounds on Haechan, an eyebrow quirked. “Chenle, go sit down.” 

Chenle nods gleefully and takes a seat on the arm of the sofa.

When everyone is a safe distance away, Jaemin closes his eyes. 

Let’s fly.

As soon as the thought forms in his mind, his wings push Chenle’s rain-soaked hoodie away from his back and fold outwards to their full size. He winces at a crash, turning to see Renjun’s vase finally unseated and smashed to pieces on the floor.

“Oh fuck off Jaemin. That was my favorite vase.” Renjun huffs, seemingly unbothered by the winged deity replacing his roommate in their living room.

“It’s from IKEA Junnie. I’ll get you another one?” Mark doesn’t take his eyes away from Jaemin as he speaks. “Jaemin I’m not gonna lie buddy as the religious person of the friendship group I am having some thoughts, some feelings, and I am very afraid.”

“God Jaemin, please say be not afraid.” Haechan finally falls victim to Renjun and Mark’s kicking legs and topples to the floor. “I will genuinely piss myself.” 

Jaemin just keeps smiling as he raises his arm and summons Arcum. She forms softly, twinkling under the harsh lights of their apartment. He waits until she settles fully to pull an arrow out and point her directly at Haechan. “I’m not an angel, Hyeok. They’re not real. Sorry Mark.”

Jisung raises his hand tentatively from where he’s sandwiched next to Jeno. “Uh–hyung. If not angel… then…”

Jaemin offers his free hand to Jisung to shake. Jisung blinks a few times and then accepts the gesture. 

“Hi Jisung, my name is Cupid.” Jaemin says, proudly out loud for the first time in as long as he can remember. “Creator of the universe, but mostly commonly referred to as the God of love.”

“Holy fucking shit.” Mark’s hand slams into his mouth. “Chenle you made the God of love fall in love with you. That is fucking lit as hell.”

“Cupid? The baby with the diaper in the paintings?” Haechan adds mockingly. “Jaemin that is the funniest shit ever.”

Jaemin’s wings fluff defensively as he leans closer, eyes turning black. “Donghyeok Lee. I could turn you to dust with a click of my finger. The Putti are the diaper babies in the paintings. Do not mock me. I am their maker.”

“Okay that was pretty fucking cool and God-like I guess, I’m sorry.” Haechan backs down, settling in between Mark’s legs, despite Renjun’s foot against his skull trying to push him to the side.

Jeno, the calmest of them all, leans forward. “So… you make people fall in love?” 

“Not quite.” Jaemin folds his wings away and sits down, crossing his legs. “I just guide love, or make it end if it isn’t right.”

“Not the actual human version of Heartbreakers, LLC running Heartbreakers, LLC. Isn’t that cheating Chenle?” Haechan points an accusing finger. “You knew the whole time didn’t you, you little shit.”

“Obviously not. Imagine how obnoxious our advertising would have been if I could tell everyone Jaemin was the actual real life Cupid.” Chenle waves away Haechan’s prodding finger.

“Speaking of Heartbreakers—” Jaemin stands up again. “I—think we have to shut it down Lele.”

Chenle blinks, shocked, but nods for him to continue. 

“I think… I just want to try and love normally, be normal. Living without my full power these last two years—it wasn’t even that terrible. Maybe living like a mortal—with a mortal—” he reaches out a hand for Chenle to grab. “Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

Jisung raises his hand, mimicking Jeno from earlier. “So… Jaemin hyung do I still call you Jaemin? Are we supposed to like, not tell people you have wings and super powers?”

Jaemin laughs, really laughs, and he feels that warmth in his chest again. “I still want you to call me Jaemin, Jisungie. And yes, please refrain from telling people I’m an Actual God. It hasn’t gone so well in the past.”

“So… Jaeminnie are you feeling better?” Renjun smiles as he asks. “We really were worried about all of those headaches and the way you were withdrawing from us all…”

“All my own fault apparently, Renjun.” Jaemin pulls Chenle into his chest with their intertwined hands and noses at his hair, inhaling the scent of him. “Turns out when you try to fight the universe the universe gets real fucking mad about it. The universe wanted Chenle and I to be together so fucking bad.”

“God, me when.” Haechan sighs from the floor.

“Never, Haech. Your attitude is too bad.” Jaemin says, nose still buried in Chenle’s hair. “Maybe if you ask nicely I’ll give you an arrow for your birthday.”

They all start yelling then, about unfairness, about how that’s cheating, about which one of them deserves real love the most.

Jaemin just giggles, pulling Chenle even closer. 

The warm feeling stays soft in his chest, and Jaemin knows it’s permanent. Knows this is the real love that even his arrows can’t mimic. 

“So.. hey.” Chenle says, looking up at him. “What was that about giving you a few hours to fuck me?”

Jaemin throws his head back and roars a laugh. “I can kick everyone out now if you want to know what it feels like to sleep with the God of Love, sex is usually included in that title by the way.”

Chenle almost trips over the coffee table. “Everyone get the fuck out, now. Sorry Renjun. I know this is literally your apartment. Everybody leave!”

Jaemin closes his eyes as they bicker around him, and everything finally feels right.