Archive of Our Own ^beta

It was disconcerting to load up Discord and hear Jaemin flirting into the ether, but it was an unfortunate familiarity that Donghyuck had resigned himself to many months ago.

“Oh, our Haechannie has joined the server! Please send him a warm welcome!”

On one screen Jaemin’s Twitch chat flooded with chirpy welcomes and sun emotes, and on the other screen The Forest struggled to load. Donghyuck sat back and scratched his neck. “Hi everyone, thanks for having me again.”

Jaemin grinned, and once again there was a flood of emotes in the chat. “They want you here more than they want me,” he said. “Even on the single player streams, all the comments are asking when Haechan will be back on the channel, if you’re busy, if you’re still sleeping, etcetera.”

Donghyuck rolled his eyes. “I doubt that.”

“Don’t doubt it; they’re still begging for a face reveal.”

“There’s nothing to reveal,” Donghyuck said, his character finally loading in. He immediately checked his inventory, confirming that the chainsaws they’d found in the last session hadn’t despawned. “Sorry guys, but I actually don’t have a face. The reveal would be pretty underwhelming.”

“I think a guy with no face would be the opposite of underwhelming.”

“Whose side are you on?” Donghyuck complained, switching to his spear to stab at Jaemin’s character. “Just because you refuse to post more than four selfies a year doesn’t mean I have to supply your fans with content in the meantime.”

“My fans see my face every time I stream. What’s one more selfie to add to the thousands of screenshots they already have?”

Donghyuck shook his head, glad he didn’t have the money or the motivation to invest in a camera setup. “You’re awfully confident for a man that refuses to play Outlast without a babysitter.”

“I prefer the term emotional support sunshine.”

Donghyuck bit back a groan. He should have known that this would happen – as soon as they decided on streaming a game that was even slightly tense in atmosphere, Jaemin would flirt away his anxiety, and the chat would go wild. It worked, but Donghyuck was still in the process of weighing up the benefits and drawbacks.

He glanced at the chat, and – yeah. There it was.

              HAECHAN WATCHES OVER NANA WHILE HE PLAYS HORROR GAMES?????

              Subbed for 12 months!

              NO WAY THAT’S THE CUTEST SHIT

              Hi Haechan!

              I would like to see an ass comparison. That’s the beauty that really matters.

              Now we really need to know what Haechan looks like. What if he’s hotter than Nana?

That last comment made him laugh. “I am hotter than Nana.”

“Interesting,” Jaemin drawled, his scantily clad character planting blueberry bushes. “I thought you didn’t have a face?”

“I don’t need a face to be more attractive than you.”

Jaemin pouted directly at his camera, staring at Donghyuck through his computer screen. “Why do you hate me so much today?”

Other than the three hours of sleep Donghyuck was riding off, he wasn’t actually in a bad mood. Slightly hysterical, maybe, but not angry. Not annoyed, and despite his tone, never with Jaemin. He let out a long sigh and rolled his shoulders. When he spoke again, he made his tone lighter. “I don’t hate you,” he said. “I didn’t sleep again, so I’m tired. Sorry if I sound grouchy.”

Almost immediately, he received a text from Jaemin.

You need to go, babe? Don’t force yourself to stay up with me if you’re tired. X

Donghyuck softened further. “I’m okay,” he said out loud, within hearing of the chat. “Just sleepy.”

Jaemin nodded, barely visible, but it was all Donghyuck needed.

              Haechan should watch some of Jeno’s streams! He always helps me sleep<3

The comment caught his eye in the rapid stream, and not just because of the multiple sun emotes. “Who’s Jeno?”

Jaemin blinked. “Hm?”

“Your chat are saying I should watch Jeno.”

“He’s a fellow streamer. We’ve collabed a couple of times, and he’s really sweet. We have vastly different playing styles, though.” Jaemin raked his eyes through the chat, giggling at the occasional message. “Yeah, Jisoo, you’ve got it right. Jeno is a teddy bear, and I’m a Ken doll.”

Donghyuck laughed, startlingly loud. “What does that make me?”

“A skunk in the trash outside.”

“I don’t smell!”

“I never said you do. I just know you like playing in the trash.”

“Are you the trash?”

Jaemin blinked, and it was only the lack of reply that made Donghyuck realise how forward he’d been. God. The chat would be using that one for months.

“So,” Jaemin said, saving Donghyuck from his own thoughts, “You think we should try for the cave with the katana?”

Donghyuck breathed out his nose and tipped his head back, ever grateful for their shared braincell. “Sounds good,” he said. “Do you think we should sleep first? We probably need to stock up on food, too. Wanna go hunting?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Jaemin said, eyes back on his chat. “Some of these sleep suggestions are good, you know. Lavender under the pillow for aromatherapy, ambient music, internet locks, cherries before bed. Jeno is probably a good idea too, if you’re into that kind of sound. He does ASMR occasionally, and most of his HOGs are meant to be soothing. Lots of people watch him to destress.”

“What the hell are HOGs?” And then, before Jaemin could even get the words past his smirk, Donghyuck said, “If you say they’re wild pigs I’ll ditch the server and come to your apartment just to smack you.”

The smirk fell into another pout. “Mean.”

“Answer the question properly and I won’t have to resort to violence.”

“It stands for ‘hidden object games.’ They’re puzzles and mystery, usually. They require way too much brain power for me, but Jeno does a lot of them, and his subs really seem to enjoy watching the gameplay.”

Donghyuck would never get used to hearing subs thrown so casually into conversations, but maybe that was because he still didn’t fucking understand how Twitch worked. Why Jaemin couldn’t just say subscribers, he didn’t know. What he did know was that he was so tired he felt nauseous. If he had to snort lavender and watch someone put together a jigsaw to get to sleep, he’d try it.

-

Of course, there were rules. Things they couldn’t talk about on stream, for the sake of their privacy and the privacy of those around them. Jaemin never talked about Renjun, and Donghyuck never asked. Donghyuck never talked about… anything personal, and Jaemin never asked. It worked for them, and the faint mystery of a hot gamer with a cheerful personality and his sarcastic, unidentified friend also seemed to work. Jaemin’s channel grew steadily, and there was always a slight boost after he hosted a stream with Donghyuck joined through their Discord audio.

After their co-op session finished, Jaemin’s channel closed, he blew out a breath that rattled through his microphone. “Whew. It’s nearly five, dude. Don’t you have classes at nine?”

“Probably.”

“You need to sleep.”

Donghyuck blinked. His eyes felt like tectonic plates, all crust and friction. “Yeah. Easier said than done.”

Jaemin hummed, too gentle for dissent. “Thanks for joining me. People were really generous with donations again.”

“That’s great. Which charity is it going to this month?”

“Action Aid. I made a poll last week.”

“Cool,” Donghyuck murmured. “Bro, I have classes at nine.”

Jaemin laughed. “I know. Go to sleep, yeah? I’ll buy you lunch tomorrow.”

It was a good offer, one Donghyuck wasn’t stupid enough to refuse. So, after some last goodbyes, they ended the call. Donghyuck shut his monitors down and forced himself to move the three inches between his desk and his bed, landing face down and fully clothed.

It was there, with his crusty eyes and dirty clothes and unbrushed teeth, that he remembered the reason he was so tired: he couldn’t fucking sleep.

Donghyuck sat up with a groan and stumbled to the bathroom, where his attempt to brush his teeth and step out of his skinny jeans almost resulted in concussion via toilet bowl. He felt slightly less undead when he washed his face with cold water, but even that wasn’t enough to stop his eyes from hurting as he turned off all the lights and crawled under his sheets.

Student life was difficult, but that kind of went without saying. While a majority of students were at acute risk of scurvy, most were also running on fumes, unable to handle the mixture of stress, hormones, undiagnosed mental health issues, and awful diet. Donghyuck classed himself firmly within those cursed boundaries, along with Jaemin and many of their mutual friends. At times, Mark seemed like the only one with his shit together, but then he’d pass out in the library and Donghyuck would be reminded that the ‘good student’ ideal was a myth.

They were all exhausted, and they were all struggling.

Still. Knowing you were on a sinking boat with all of your friends didn’t make the rising water any more pleasant.

It didn’t help Donghyuck sleep.

He rolled over and reached for his phone, googling Jeno Twitch with absolutely no plan.

His twitch channel was the first link, but unsurprisingly, he was inactive. At five in the morning it was to be expected, but Donghyuck still frowned. It was only when he went to close the tab that he realised the link below Jeno’s twitch was for his YouTube channel, which was a pleasant surprise.

Donghyuck clicked on it and waited for his shitty internet to load up the redirected app, then without examining any of the written details, he clicked on the top video and turned up the volume.

It was hard to see on his phone screen, but Jeno’s video started off as most streams did, with him greeting his chat and introducing the game.

“I’ll be recording this one since it’s pretty late guys, so don’t worry if you have to leave earlier, I’ll put it up on YouTube sometime tomorrow. Today we’re playing a HOG that is literally just called True Fear. I’m hoping that this doesn’t prove to be the first point and click game that makes me piss my pants, but anything is possible.”

Donghyuck laughed slightly, despite his lingering mistrust over the definition of HOG. Jeno had a calming voice, smooth and fairly low. Pretty. Donghyuck brought his phone closer and squinted, but as hard as he looked he could barely see Jeno in the small camera box at the side of the screen. He was in an oversized grey hoodie that hid his shape and his hair, and his glasses covered a large portion of his face. What remained was a striking nose, a sharp jaw, and undeniably cute eyes. His smile was small, but it had the same calming quality as his voice.

“Huh? Oh, someone in chat just asked if this is going to be a full playthrough. Apparently this game is pretty long, so I might split it into two parts, just to be comfortable for everyone. Does anyone know if this has multiple endings? No? That’s good. Yeah, probably two streams then, maybe an hour or two each.”

An hour?

Donghyuck’s little rodent brain usually let him watch videos that were maybe twenty minutes tops. If he wasn’t actively doing something then his mind wandered, and before he knew it he’d be eighty videos deep into a playlist about rural cheese farms and the process of milking goats.

“Thanks for all the bits guys, I really appreciate it. Are you ready to get started? I hear the mystery plot is surprisingly good, so this should be a fun one.”

And maybe the plot was good. Maybe it was a fascinating, emotionally driven masterpiece.

If it was, Donghyuck didn’t know about it. Less than half an hour into the video and Jeno’s gentle commentary paired with the soothing background music of the game had sent Donghyuck into a sleep so deep that he slept through all five of his alarms, his morning classes, and then his lunch date with Jaemin.

He woke up at three the next day, disorientated and groggy. The sun was a heavy heat through his window, and he felt gross. But, more than anything else, he felt rested.

Immediately, he called Jaemin. “Hey, so, I just slept for like eleven hours.”

“Hi, honey. I stopped by earlier just to check on you and saw that you were asleep, so no hard feelings about lunch. You must have needed it.”

“Thank you,” Donghyuck said, relieved. “Thanks for understanding.”

“It’s fine! I’m just glad you finally got more than three hours.”

“Yeah, about that.” Donghyuck rolled over. “I watched one of Jeno’s recorded streams last night and fell into like, the grave of sleeps. The mausoleum. You could have blown an airhorn in my ear and I wouldn’t have heard it. I was dead.”

Jaemin laughed. “That’s good to hear. You should drop Jeno a comment, he’d be happy to know.”

“He wouldn’t be offended that he literally sent me to sleep?”

“No, not at all,” Jaemin said. “The reason he plays those kinds of games is so that people can watch and unwind. Fast paced games with shouting and gunfire are nice when you’re in the mood, but sometimes people just want to relax, and Jeno enjoys contributing to that. Honestly, you should tell him. He’d be stoked.”

Donghyuck wouldn’t be stoked if he were a hardworking streamer that received a comment along the lines of ‘hey ur vid made me sleep for half a fucking century so thanks,’ but then again, he wasn’t a streamer, and he didn’t know enough about it to argue with Jaemin.

So, he checked Jeno’s linked twitter, found out that his next stream started at eight, and then went to shower off the grime of his unholy slumber.

-

By the time Jeno’s stream started, Donghyuck felt almost human. He logged into his Twitch account, which must have been gathering the online version of cobwebs in his extended absence. By the time he’d managed to fumble his way into Jeno’s chat, gameplay had already started. Not that he’d missed much, considering he’d slept through the entire first half of the game the evening before.

Viewing Twitch as a member of the audience rather than a gamer was kind of nice, in a way. He actually got the chance to keep up with the comments, and most of them were sweet. It was a different kind of energy to Jaemin’s stream, where the chat was so specifically odd that anyone not used to the humour would have thought they were all drunk or something. Jeno’s chat didn’t have anyone begging for a fart reveal.

The game was weird. It definitely wasn’t something Donghyuck was used to playing, but it was kind of charming. For something in the horror genre, it was decidedly not scary, but it had a cool atmosphere. Even without the knowledge from the previous stream, Donghyuck found himself absorbed by the puzzles and hints. Jeno narrated his actions for anyone that had difficulty with vision, and he read out all of the written dialogue, providing a near constant murmur.

With his eyelids not fused together like they had been during Donghyuck’s brief foray into Jeno’s YouTube, he could get a good look at the streamer.

And boy. What a good look it was.

Jeno didn’t have his hood up this time, but his thick-framed glasses were perched as they had been before, square and charmingly dorkish. He was handsome. He was hot.

The arguments over Jaemin and Donghyuck’s appearance was rendered inconsequential, because Jeno was the dark horse of Twitch that wore a pink Animal Crossing jumper and looked like a runway model.

It was sheer luck that Donghyuck hadn’t noticed during the previous video, or Jeno’s face would have shocked him awake and kept him in suspended, cosmic disbelief for another two days at least.

“Ahhh,” Jeno said, slightly annoyed. He combed a hand through his dark hair and squeezed his eyes closed, frustrated. “I struggle with these bits. I’m good with the big picture, but where the hell do I need to use a sponge?”

Unbidden, Donghyuck found himself typing:

              Oil under the cooker.

Jeno blinked at his chat bar, which, other than Donghyuck’s direct reply, seemed to be full of mutual confusion. The occasional comment was a compliment, a thank you to Jeno, a gentle request for another movie night on Patreon.

No demands for feet pics. No begging for mercy while Jaemin threatened to start slurping his coffee next to the microphone. No polls deciding the fates of innocent NPCs.

Was Jeno’s chat the weird one, or was it Jaemin’s? Donghyuck felt like he was on an entirely different platform. Why were Jeno’s chat so nice?

“Under the – there was oil under the cooker? Hold on.” It drew Donghyuck’s attention back to the screen, where Jeno was clicking his way back to the kitchen scene. He dragged the sponge to the spill, and immediately it cleared, showing a sequence of numbers etched into the linoleum of the floor. 724. Jeno sat back, blinking. “It worked,” he said, as if he couldn’t quite believe someone had figured it out. It was a game. It was made to be figured out.

But Donghyuck had to admit that Jeno’s surprise and genuine delight was kind of charming. Jaemin would probably have had the same reaction if his chat had ever proven to be useful during gameplay, but they enjoyed making everything more difficult.

“Thank you,” Jeno said, surprise still lilting his voice higher. A blush was developing on his cheeks, soft and pink. “Haechan, is it? Are you new? If so, welcome to the streams, and I hope you enjoy your stay.” He smiled into the camera, and it felt like a sucker punch.

Fuck.

And then, like creatures from under the floorboards, Jaemin’s fans emerged.

              HAECHAN IS HERE LETS GOOOOOOOOOO

              Haechan on another guy’s stream?

              HI BESTIE OMG

              Probs not actually Haechan guys, he never comments on streams.

              True, didn’t he forget his login anyway?

Donghyuck frowned.

              I remembered it again. Who do you think I am?

The replies were immediate.

              HAECHANNNNNNN

              Are u rlly hot??? I want evidence

              Still waiting on your face reveal king!

Jeno watched it unfold, patient and confused, a wise old king unused to the youth of his kingdom. “Why are you asking this guy for feet pics in my chat?”

The re-emergence of the feet demands were a stark reminder of the interruption being caused. Donghyuck loved Jaemin’s fans – as strange as they were, they were funny and undoubtedly some of the kindest people around – but this wasn’t Jaemin’s livestream.

He took a sip of his ginger tea.

              Guys, I’m here to watch Jeno play. Please do the same and let him and his fans enjoy the content, okay?

Jeno smiled. “Thank you, Haechan. You’re a friend of Jaemin, right? I remember your name now. Nice to have you with us.”

              Thank you for having me here. I’m enjoying the stream!

Jeno smiled again, and Donghyuck’s heart clenched. Jaemin’s words came back to him: ‘You should drop Jeno a comment, he’d be happy to know.’

So he took another sip of his tea, choked on it, got it on his shirt, and then typed.

              I have trouble sleeping, but your yt vids helped me the other night. Thank you.

Jeno’s smile returned, even more beautiful than before. “You’re welcome. Thank you so much for trusting me with something as important as resting.”

Donghyuck didn’t know what to say to that other than a declaration of devotion, so he just sent a smiley face, and then almost swallowed his tongue at the immediate comment beneath his own.

              Haechan can’t fucking use emotes? Geriatric bitch smh

Jeno laughed, loud and happy, and it kind of made the embarrassment worth it.

Slowly, the stream returned to its previous flow, gentle and constant, and Donghyuck found himself lulled into a state of almost-asleep-staring.

He managed to hang on until the end, long enough to watch Jeno wave goodbye and officially end the stream. Then, without much awareness of anything at all, Donghyuck climbed into bed and slept the best he ever had.

-

As beautiful as he was, it turned out that Jeno wasn’t the cure-all Donghyuck had hoped for, but that was fine. Two good nights of sleep a week were better than none, and Donghyuck had figured out a long time ago that blaming other people for his own issues could only get him so far.

There was only so much stress that avoidance could help with. Eventually the uncomfortable prickling at the back of his neck would return, just as Jeno had put the finishing touches on his latest Sims 4 house design. The knowledge that something was coming, be it an assignment, an exam, or both – it never truly left, but those handfuls of peaceful hours were something Donghyuck would be eternally grateful for.

“We all knew that postgrad would be like this,” Renjun said, barely awake and only just keeping his face out of his ramen. “Why did we do it?”

“I want to teach algebra to disinterested students,” Donghyuck said, barely a centimetre above his own food. With every blink it became more difficult not to let himself fall asleep in the food. Warmth emanated from it, like an appealing soggy pillow. He could deal with miso dreams if the noodles let him sleep for long enough.

“Yeah,” Renjun said, miserable. “For some reason I want to go into publishing. Mark has goals too, but why the fuck did Jaemin choose this life?”

From the other side of the table, Jaemin blinked. “Did I do something to offend you?”

“You slept for like nine hours last night,” Renjun said, glowering like a wet kitten. “Right next to me. You snored. Taunting me.”

“I only slept because I took too much flu medicine.” When Renjun opened his mouth to shout, Jaemin hastily continued, “It was an accident! I thought I was coming down with something while I was streaming, and I didn’t read the box properly.”

“Don’t be so reckless next time,” Renjun said, fight having left his voice. He looked back down to his food, as if imagining the same soggy pillow as Donghyuck. “Is an education really worth this constant feeling of ‘Oh shit, I should be doing something right now?’”

“It depends on your perspective,” Donghyuck said. It might have sounded philosophical if he’d had the energy to expand on it, but he didn’t. Instead, he ate some noodles and wondered if Mark was awake, or if he was passed out on a bench on campus somewhere, a spectacle for passing students to pretend they didn’t see. It wouldn’t have been the first time.

 Jaemin kicked Donghyuck under the table, drawing him, unwilling, back into his body. “Hey. You wanna play with me tonight?”

“Sounds weird in front of your boyfriend.”

Jaemin just rolled his eyes. “I was thinking of something easy. We could do some Minecraft?”

Donghyuck rubbed his face. “I don’t feel like Minecraft.”

“Mario Kart?”

“Sure, yeah. Anyone else joining? It’s been a while since we played something with Chenle.”

“I’ll text him and see if he wants to join. I’ll ask around actually – the more people we play with, the less funny we have to be. Win.”

Donghyuck nodded. It was a good idea. Collaborations were fun, but they also took a little of the stress out of streaming, because it was evenly distributed by a larger number. It was why he joined Jaemin so often – it was easier to keep up a cheerful persona when it didn’t feel like you were talking mostly to yourself, and sometimes Jaemin needed that. He loved his chat, but another voice answering your questions was valued dearly.

Their friendship was a strange but unbreakable bond. They’d met through Renjun, but now Donghyuck couldn’t imagine his life without both of them by his side, holding hands and bickering while he wandered in his own daze, only really alert enough to catch Mark if he tripped, slightly in front of their little pack.

The thought hit him suddenly. “Why don’t you see if Mark-“

“He’s already refused,” Jaemin cut in. “He seriously doesn’t trust me after that online game of Uno. He won’t join my streams at all now, like, no second chances. I decimated his trust.”

“He didn’t call Uno,” Renjun said, patting Jaemin’s hand. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“He really wanted to win,” Jaemin said, shaking his head with a dramatically forlorn expression. “I should have just let it pass.”

For his own sake, he was probably right. Mark Lee was an angel, but he was an angel that could hold a grudge.

-

“You joined another stream when you knew I was looking for people to join my Mario Kart session!” Jaemin shouted, his accusation finger out and pointing guilt shaped bullets at Mark’s hunched form. They’d found out only midway through rainbow road, happy as a three until someone left a comment asking why Mark was playing Surgeon Simulator on Jeno’s channel.

“You’re deserve what you get,” Mark said from under his blankets. His face emerged, abashed but not entirely remorseful.

“What does Jeno have that I don’t, huh? More subs? More money? A bigger dick?”

“All three, I’d guess,” Renjun said, eyes on his phone.

Jaemin turned pleading eyes his way. “Baby please, I’m trying to make him feel bad.”

Renjun didn’t look up. “Go ahead.”

Donghyuck wanted to vomit. Mario Kart had been fun, but ten minutes from the end a splitting pain had started behind his eye, and despite watching hours of Jeno’s HOGs, despite the painkillers and damp towels, the pain hadn’t subsided. His head hurt, and Jaemin’s voice was steadily rising as the arguing continued. He couldn’t even bring himself to be jealous that Mark knew Jeno well enough to game with him.

“-okay? Hyuck?”

He blinked, but it only turned into another wince. “What?”

“Did you sleep at all last night?” Mark had emerged from his burrow, crouched down in front of Donghyuck with concern written across his features.

“No,” Donghyuck murmured. “I think another migraine has hit.”

Jaemin’s expression fell. “You should have said! Fuck Mario and his harem, we could have-“

Donghyuck waved it away. “Happened after the stream, don’t worry. Just sucks. Not the worst one I’ve had, but it’s stubborn.”

“Go to bed,” Mark said, steel in his voice. He only ever spoke with that tone when he expected an argument but knew he was strong enough to win, which is why when he used it no one ever argued. “Turn your phone off, too. No more screens, Hyuck. Just sleep.”

“Drink water,” Renjun said simply. “I bet you haven’t today.”

He was right. They all were, but that didn’t make sleep any less illusive when Donghyuck crawled into bed and pulled the covers over his head. It hurt to keep his eyes closed, almost more than it hurt to keep them open. The dull throb behind his eye felt like a drum beat that pounded louder whenever he tried to untense.

What must have been a couple of hours into his self-imposed exile, his phone pinged. Donghyuck clicked on the notification with bleary, unseeing eyes and almost dropped his phone on his face when Jeno’s voice came out of the speakers.

It was a stream. A stream, but hours earlier than he usually went live. A stream during the working day, entirely unscheduled.

“-I know, I’m not going to make a habit of streaming at this time of day, so don’t worry about missing me. Yeah, we’re going to be playing one of the Nancy Drew games now, they’re pretty calm. Hm? Well, I heard that a friend of a friend is having trouble with headaches, and I know that my streams help him sleep. If I can give him something to relax to, then why not do it?” There was a pause, the only sound Donghyuck’s heart beating in his chest and the pain in his head that matched the rhythm. “Haechan, if you’re watching or listening, this is for you. I hope it helps. I hope you feel better soon.”

-

Two days later, and Donghyuck emerged from the pit of his bedroom and almost felt like a human again. He felt disgusting, but human. Alive.

“I missed you,” was the first thing Jaemin said when Donghyuck turned up on his doorstep, still in his pyjamas, his hated glasses sliding down his nose.

“Did you tell Jeno to host a stream for me?” Donghyuck asked, pushing the glasses back up for the third time.

Jaemin’s brow furrowed. “Did I – huh? No, I didn’t. I dragged him into the joke argument with Mark, and I think your migraine came up, but I didn’t ask him to do anything.”

“Do you know him? Like, in person?”

Jaemin shook his head. “He’s a couple of hours away, and the opportunity to meet has never come up. I’m pretty sure Mark has met him a few times, though. They know each other through Chenle.” Jaemin examined him closely. “Why?”

“I think I wanna date him,” Donghyuck said miserably.

There was a pause. He kind of expected Jaemin to laugh, but he didn’t.

Instead, Jaemin pulled Donghyuck further into his apartment and closed the door, then moved through to the kitchen to fetch a couple of bottles of water. When he returned to Donghyuck and passed over one of the bottles, his expression was earnest. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s see what we can do to make it happen.”

-

“My boyfriend streams on Twitch. You should join him some time.”

Donghyuck had looked at Renjun, too surprised to act like it. “You have a boyfriend?”

“It’s new,” Renjun had replied, squinting against the harsh sunlight of the early morning. “When I say new, I mean we only met three weeks ago.”

Donghyuck had kept quiet. Not that he didn’t believe that short relationships could sustain themselves, but – he’d never seen evidence of it. Youth was full of folly, but so was adulthood. Donghyuck had seen his aunts marry man after man, spending only days on the courtship before throwing their heart to the first hand ready to catch. It always ended in divorce. It always ended up with more sadness and a hole inside that grew with each heartbreak. He hadn’t ever expected someone as level-headed as Renjun to find a man and call him his boyfriend after a number of weeks. Donghyuck hadn’t expected to believe him, either.

“I’m falling in love with him,” Renjun admitted, so quietly that it was almost lost.

Donghyuck hedged around his words. “Don’t you think it might be a little-“

“Early? Stupid? Of course I think that. I know it.” Renjun shrugged. There was colour making its way onto his cheeks, rosy and romantic. “Knowing I’m being reckless doesn’t change how I feel. It doesn’t change how he makes me feel.”

“And how is that?” Donghyuck asked, curious. “How does he make you feel?”

“Comfortable,” Renjun replied. “Happy. He makes me feel like taking a risk might be worth it.”

-

It had taken Donghyuck all of twenty minutes to understand where Renjun had been coming from. Jaemin had a magic around him, an aura of teasing kindness that was as beguiling as it was mystifying. Compared to someone as grounded as Renjun, Jaemin could have been made of clouds.

But it worked.

It worked in a way that made Donghyuck’s chest ache, half happiness and half envy as he watched them fall more and more in love as the months and then years passed. Three years in and Renjun still blushed every time Jaemin kissed the back of his hand. Three years in and Jaemin still stared at Renjun with his heart in his eyes every time they were together.

“Men clamour over each other for your attention,” Jaemin had said one rainy afternoon. They were waiting in a café at the west side of campus for Renjun to finish his exam. “I don’t see why you look so constipated when you look at couples. That could be you if you wanted it to be.”

“I don’t want what every other couple has,” Donghyuck had muttered, eying the man and woman curled against each other at a nearby table. The woman was stroking the man’s neck, adoring, and he was on Tinder. Donghyuck could see the reflection of his phone screen in the window behind him.

“Then what is it you want?”

You. But no, that wasn’t quite right. As much as he loved Jaemin, it wasn’t at all like that. He wanted what Jaemin represented, the steadfast boyfriend, the loving best friend, the man of endless, wonderful possibilities.

Donghyuck wanted what Jaemin had with Renjun, the unwavering partnership, the mutual adoration, the uncompromising loyalty.

“I want people to be better than they are,” Donghyuck said. He raised his voice. “Hey! Get off Tinder you slimy cheat!”

The man jolted as if burnt, and his companion turned hurt, furious eyes to the phone he’d dropped onto the table, screen-side up. You have been superliked!

Jaemin watched, bemused, as the woman dragged her partner out of the café and into the rain, her shouting audible through the glass. “Well. I hope he has a premium account, because he’ll be needing to use it.”

Donghyuck was stuck on the superlike. How many of the man’s actions had been intended as cheating, and how many had been about pacifying a fragile ego? Not that intention mattered with that kind of thing, but it was interesting if Donghyuck detached himself from his second-hand anger.

It was sad in a way. So many people ruined what they already had because of the near constant need to be validated by strangers. 

There was no real moral to the story, just a vague kind of unease. It was getting worse; the constant pressure of always being viewed, a one-man performance for the rest of the world to judge at their convenience.

You have been superliked!

What a stupid thing to lose a relationship over. And Donghyuck, despite his intentions, had become one of the viewers, one of the judges. One second of this man’s life, and Donghyuck had already formed his opinion.

It was how the world worked now, for better or for worse.

-

He rejected Jaemin’s suggestion of a face-cam immediately.

“All I’m saying is that if Jeno happens to stumble upon one of our streams, he might see how beautiful you are and decide that romance is the only viable option.”

Donghyuck shook his head again. “I don’t want to. Too many people watch your streams, I don’t want – I don’t want to.”

“Okay,” Jaemin said easily. “So we’ll think of something else.”

But they didn’t. They sat together and stared at nothing. Every so often, Jaemin would tell Donghyuck to drink water. Donghyuck would drink his water and then the silent staring would resume.

Eventually, Renjun came home from his classes. He took one look at his boyfriend and best friend, threw his bag on the floor, and joined them on the couch. “Is it existential derealisation time?”

“We’re actually meant to be thinking,” Jaemin said with a frown. “Turns out we’re both really bad at it.”

Renjun sighed, tipping sideways so that his head was on Donghyuck’s shoulder, his feet in Jaemin’s lap. “What are you meant to be thinking about?”

“How to gently encourage Jeno to fall in love with Donghyuck. Face cam has been ruled out.”

“You’re both idiots. You know him, Jaemin. Just invite him over.”

“Oh,” Jaemin said, faint. “I didn’t consider that.”

“Of course you didn’t.” Renjun patted Jaemin’s knee comfortingly. “Never mind.”

-

But the reality of the application didn’t feel so easy. It was awkward for Jaemin because it was sudden, an out of the blue invitation that he had to pass off as something occurring naturally. It was awkward for Donghyuck, because he knew all of the effort was for him, but he also knew he was too selfish to tell Jaemin not to try.

It wasn’t awkward for Renjun, though, so he took the initiative.

“Start with a group stream. Another Mario session, Minecraft, Animal Crossing, whatever. Something that you can play as a group, and then afterwards we can organise a group meet. It’d be more relaxed, right? And it’s a good chance to see what he’s like in person.” Renjun’s gaze was heavy and deliberate. “He could be an asshole in real life. You do know that, don’t you?”

“Of course I know,” Donghyuck said, defensive. He and Jaemin both understood the online personas it took to be in the public eye without having a breakdown, but he also knew that Jeno streaming for him wasn’t something he would have done if he wasn’t innately kind. He didn’t want to go in with his hackles raised.

“He’s nice,” Chenle said a couple of days later, while the group stream was being organised. It was the first time he’d travelled to see them in a month or so, too busy at his business school to stop by. It was good to see him, and Donghyuck didn’t hold back his coddling. Chenle just fit so nicely in his arms, and he smelled good, like his mother’s expensive fabric conditioner. Peony and jasmine.

“Tell me more,” Donghyuck mumbled into Chenle’s hair, dropping a kiss on the crown of his head.

“Creep,” Chenle muttered. When Donghyuck huffed, Chenle laughed. “I don’t know what you want me to say. Jeno’s nice. He’s a normal guy.”

“What is he interested in? Hobbies? Does he study? Is he even gay?”

“He’s Jeno.”

“Star sign?” Donghyuck asked, starting to get desperate. Chenle was making Jeno sound like a mannequin that occasionally became sentient to be handsome online.

“Taurus. Maybe too steady for you.”

“Or,” Jaemin said, wagging one finger, “A grounding force. God knows a Gemini like Donghyuck needs reminding that he wasn’t born to perform a one-man shitshow for the rest of us.”

 “Is the Leo really preaching to me?” Donghyuck asked, raising his brows. “Jaemin, your audacity astounds me every single time.”

“I don’t know why, you should really be used to it by now,” he said, going back to his phone, and whatever group chat he had with the streamers he knew. As far as Donghyuck was aware, Jeno was in there somewhere, though he rarely spoke, instead hearting messages and sending the occasional thumbs up.

Chenle tapped Donghyuck’s arm, drawing his attention back to the boy in his arms. “He’s kind,” Chenle said, showing mercy for once. “Steady. Kind of goofy, and most of his jokes suck, but sometimes they don’t. I really don’t know how to explain him, but he’s a good person. One of the best, really. And he’s tall.”

“Tall?” Donghyuck asked, storing the rest of the information away for later consideration. Jaemin rolled his eyes, but that was pretty common when Donghyuck spoke.

“Not as tall as Sungchan, but no one is.”

“Other than Mark’s crush,” Jaemin said.

Donghyuck’s head snapped around. “Who the hell does Mark have a crush on?”

“That youtuber with the long hair. What’s he called? Big Boy Boulevard?”

“Johnny’s Communication Centre? Johnny from JCC?” Chenle asked. “Mark has a crush on Johnny Suh?”

“They gamed together a couple of weeks back, and he’s still talking about it.” At Donghyuck and Chenle’s matching blank look, Jaemin amended, “He talks about it constantly when we’re alone. He says I’m the only one that can keep a secret.”

“That’s Renjun.”

“Yeah, but Renjun would nag him to do something about it. I’m happy to just sit back and listen.”

“I feel like we’re getting off topic,” Chenle said. “For the sake of Donghyuck’s loneliness, I’m going to ignore how offended I am that Mark thinks I’m a blabbermouth. What’s the setup going to be? Just some fun? What kind of games do you want to play?”

“Jeno doesn’t like horror games all that much,” Jaemin said, acquiescing. “And anything that has a fast pace will limit time for conversations, which kind of goes against what we’re organising this for.”

“What about Golf It?”

“I’ve never played it,” Donghyuck said, uncertain. He wasn’t a kid, he didn’t want to impress Jeno with his gaming skills, but he also didn’t want to look like a loser. His friends were already organising an entire evening around getting them to meet, and the last thing they needed to see was Donghyuck ruin their efforts by being awful at the game they picked.

“I don’t think any of us have played it,” Chenle said. “But it’s a golf game, right? How bad could it be?”

-

It was bad.

It was so fucking bad.

Nothing made sense. Each course they’d played so far had been a myriad of obstacles and vertical paths that were impossible to hit a ball over. Not to mention that there were so many props littering the map that Donghyuck’s computer lagged every time the ball had to move.

“This is a custom course, right?” Donghyuck asked, not for the first time. “Who made this?”

Chenle, who was sat happily with his birdie, laughed. “Jisung. I told him we’d be playing, and he designed the courses specifically. With love, remember? So be nice.”

“I don’t think he understands how hitting a ball works,” Jeno said. It was the kindest unkind thing Donghyuck had ever heard, and he was glad he hadn’t succumbed to the face cam suggestion, because he couldn’t hold back his smile.

“I like the course,” Jaemin said, coming in dead last. “It’s invigorating.”

“I don’t know much, but I know that you used that word incorrectly,” Donghyuck mumbled, making a last aborted attempt to aim his ball at the hole. It went in, and he slid down his seat, relieved. There was only so many times he could watch a small purple sphere sink into animated water before he smashed his head through his monitor.

After Jaemin once again failed to score within the time limit, they moved onto the next hole. Donghyuck was tied for second with Jeno, Chenle comfortably in the lead. Jaemin might as well have been playing another game. His score was at least double Chenle’s, the gap continuing to widen as the courses progressed.

Not that he seemed to care much about the game. “Are you enjoying this, Jeno? It feels so good to have so many of my friends around.”

“All three of your friends?” Donghyuck cut in without thinking. He was relieved that Jeno laughed, even as Jaemin scowled into his camera.

“I’m having a great time, even if the courses are… complicated. Thank you for inviting me to join you guys. It’s really fun.”

“It’s fun having you here!” Chenle chirped.

“Yeah,” Donghyuck murmured, a little quieter, “It’s really good to have you here.”

He couldn’t see Jeno’s camera, because he was recording the session for YouTube rather than streaming, but he wanted to know what expression Jeno wore when he said, “I’m glad to be here. Glad to finally meet you, Haechan. Maybe one day we’ll make it to in person, huh?”

“Me first,” Jaemin whined. “Come on, what am I, stale leftovers?”

“You’re annoying,” Donghyuck said, heart in his throat. In person. Jeno wanted to? Donghyuck wanted to. He wanted to with the kind of pathetic desperation he hadn’t felt since his last real relationship, when being wanted didn’t feel like such a fruitless endeavour.

“I’m annoying? Who was it that dyed all of my shirts lime green because he left one shitty quality sock in my washing machine?”

“It was a test to see if you clean your appliances.”

“It wasn’t a test; you just buy cheap socks and wash them with my clothes because you don’t want to risk the colour bleeding into your own!”

Jaemin’s chat was taking off again, and the first comment Donghyuck saw made him burst into laughter.

              THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTING!!!!!

When he repeated the comment out loud, Jeno was the first to laugh, though Chenle and Jaemin were quick to follow.

Donghyuck sank further into his chair, smiling, and treasured that half a second of Jeno’s unfiltered, uninterrupted laughter.

-

It had been a while since the last time Jaehyun had called, but the next morning Donghyuck woke up to a voicemail and a text with a selection of cafés listed.

When he lifted his phone to his ear, all that Jaehyun’s voicemail said was, “Pick a café and meet me there at two. You owe me a coffee and a catch up.”

He hearted one of the cafes at random and then dragged himself into the bathroom, where he stared at the mirror and tried to wake himself up. The Donghyuck that stared back had bags under his eyes and hair stuck to his forehead. He looked gross, and probably smelled even worse. How long had they stayed up playing that fucking golf game? It felt like they’d played all night, but when Jaemin finally closed his stream, it had been closer to five hours than twelve.

But Donghyuck felt like shit. It was exhausting when he was so self-conscious, not just of the strangers watching, but Jeno too. Double the audience and double the self-monitoring that took up most of his energy.

He brushed his teeth and then forced himself to take a long, hot shower. He even shaved, because he wasn’t about to be upstaged by Jaehyun, however he decided to dress.

It was annoying, but Donghyuck was used to overthinking his outfits for their meet ups. Jaehyun could arrive in greasy sweats and crocs, or a Valentino suit. There was never any way to know, and no matter how many times Donghyuck asked for a heads up, Jaehyun refused to give him one, because at heart he was an ass.

Donghyuck ended up in the middle ground, right where he always ended up. Dark jeans, a smart shirt, a thick belt. He tried to tame his hair, but the curls wouldn’t organise themselves, so he shoved a baseball cap over his head to finish the look, leaving the apartment at exactly two thirty.

-

And he still ended up waiting.

Jaehyun turned up just before three, sheepish but somehow still unapologetic. He was wearing a cashmere sweater, because of course he was. “Sorry for the hold up.”

“Sure,” Donghyuck said, crossing his arms. “What was it this time? An old lady needed help crossing the street?”

“I couldn’t find my keys. Do you want another drink?”

“Americano with caramel syrup,” Donghyuck said. “And a slice of cherry pie, please.”

Jaehyun rolled his eyes, but he came back with both things, just like Donghyuck knew he would. (Jaehyun wasn’t actually an ass, though Donghyuck would never admit it. He was just bad at organising his time and even worse at dressing for the correct occasion).

They sat in silence for a moment, regarding each other. Donghyuck would have rather eaten his own vomit than admit he’d missed Jaehyun, and judging by the mirrored stare, the sentiment was shared. But still, it hung in the air. I’ve missed you. Some friendships were like that, unspoken facets that would only be admitted in the most vulnerable of situations.

“How’s Yuta?” Donghyuck finally asked.

“He’s good. Work is treating him well.”

“And you? How’s work treating you?”

“The way it always does.” Jaehyun smiled. “How’s school?”

It still prickled a little. Traitor. After three years of sharing an apartment, Jaehyun just had to age and find a job and move in with his boyfriend. Donghyuck was younger, sure, but even if they had been the same age, he would have felt the same thimble of resentment towards Jaehyun’s near perfection. “It sucks, but that’s nothing new. Streaming is going pretty well, and I join Jaemin and the others more than I used to.”

“I hope you’re not ignoring assignments to game like you used to.”

“Don’t act like you weren’t right there gaming with me!”

Jaehyun smiled, and the tiny amount of resentment faded. A couple of years ago, Donghyuck thought he was in love with Jaehyun, but he wasn’t. It was like Jaemin – the odd, hot feeling that was half longing and half jealousy. They were different facets of the perfect man that Donghyuck wanted to be and wanted to be loved by.

Ever so slightly, Jaehyun’s smile faded. “You have strange expression, Donghyuck. Is everything alright?”

He nodded instead of voicing a reply, shovelling another forkful of pie into his mouth to keep himself quiet.

“You’re sure.”

“Yeah. Everything is fine.”

“It’s not your ex, is it? Is he causing trouble? Fuck, what was his name, Min- no. Uh-“

“Sungjin. He’s not causing trouble,” Donghyuck said. He hadn’t seen Sungjin for months, and they’d parted amicably anyway. There wasn’t much to say when the only thing keeping you together was sex twice a week, scheduled in around assignments and part time jobs. Sungjin had been a good guy, but they hadn’t fit together in a way that was worth continuing. Donghyuck was proud of himself for being mature enough to realise that, instead of clinging onto something that wasn’t making either of them happy.

“If it’s not him, then what is it?” Jaehyun frowned gently. “I hate it when you keep things from me, Donghyuck. I just want to know that you’re okay.”

“I’m fine.”

“Then why do you look like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you have four due assignments and you’re trying to figure out how to complete all of them within the hour.”

“For once in my life, I promise I am keeping to my work schedule. Nothing is due or overdue.”

“So what else is there that could have you frowning that hard?”

Frustration was growing. “I told you, I’m not unha-“

“Not that kind of frown. You look like all of your focus is elsewhere.” Jaehyun cocked a brow. “Should I be jealous?”

“I don’t know, is your boyfriend rawing someone else?”

Immediately, Jaehyun scowled. “Fuck you, don’t speak about Yuta like that. If you don’t want to talk to me then that’s fine, you can sit there and look miserable forever.”

And then he felt a little bad. “I’m not…” He cut himself off with a sigh, pulling his cap off to scrub his fingers through the mess of his hair. “I’m sorry for saying that. I don’t even know how to explain it.”

It being Jeno, but also not Jeno. It bubbled up halfway through the stream, and Donghyuck had woken to find that the weight hadn’t lifted. Like a pebble loose in his chest, every time he moved it dislodged from its place to strike another organ.

“Take your time,” Jaehyun said easily. “Since I was so late, I’ll buy our second drinks. Do you want more pie?”

“No thank you, just another coffee.”

“Caramel?”

“Please.”

By the time Jaehyun had returned with their new drinks, Donghyuck felt like it was possible to maybe form a coherent sentence.

“It’s – Fuck.” He deflated, sliding down his chair. “I don’t know. I feel guilty, almost.”

“Guilty? For what?”

“I feel like I just started college again,” Donghyuck muttered. There was a blush trying to make its way onto his cheeks, and he was doing his best to batter it down without giving too much away in his expression. Lovestruck, that’s what Jaemin had said when the stream had ended. You sound so lovestruck, Hyuck. I wonder if Jeno knows how lucky he is.

“Are you failing something?” Jaehyun asked, concern mounting in his eyes. “Doyoung does tutoring sessions, you know he’d take you on for free, he adores you. Is it something else? Is someone bullying you? Money problems?”

It was much stupider than any of that. A fucking crush, but one that was just awkward enough for Donghyuck to wonder if he had any right to feel this way at all. “Hypothetically,” he began, “If you fell for someone that’s kind of an online celebrity, would that make you a creep or just a loser?”

“Depends. Do you stalk him? Do you harass him? Do you upset him?”

“No.”

“Then I’d rule out the creep. The loser, however, remains to be debated. Have you met? Is he from Jaemin’s crowd?”

“No then yes.”

Jaehyun nodded. He took a sip of his drink and then winced. “Shit, that’s still really hot.” He took another sip and winced again, then continued like nothing had happened. “You’re not a loser. I wouldn’t be friends with a loser.”

It surprised a laugh out of Donghyuck. “Is Doyoung an outlier?”

“Doyoung is more popular than all of us put together, he just doesn’t realise it because he’s so busy staring at Taeyong.”

Which was, yeah. True. “How are they?”

“Good. Awkward, but I wouldn’t expect anything else. When two emotionally constipated virgins start dating and immediately fall in love, things are bound to start off a little haltingly.”

Donghyuck nodded. Maybe it was this that was making him feel more pathetic than usual. This – coupling.

Everywhere he looked, his friends were growing more and more into themselves, entering their mid-twenties, settling into jobs and routines and relationships.

And here Donghyuck was, roping them all into helping him moon over a man he hadn’t met.

It all spilled out at once. “He’s a streamer that I started watching because he helps me sleep. He’s handsome and kind, and at first it was like – yeah, he’s a catch, but then I got a migraine last week and Jaemin mentioned it in passing, and Jeno streamed just for me, to help me sleep. And now – I don’t know. Now all of our mutual friends are trying to help me meet him in a way that doesn’t seem staged, and I feel like shit because they’re doing so much for me, and Jeno doesn’t even know. It feels like I’m doing something I shouldn’t be.”

It took a moment for Jaehyun to reply, but when he did, he sounded more amused than anything else. “Your friends are trying to set you up on a date with a guy you like, and you feel guilty about it?”

“It feels like it might be creepy.”

“Let me put it this way. If Jaemin knew someone that was into you and tried to organise a way for the two of you to meet, would it feel like betrayal? Would it feel weird? Or would it feel like a friend trying to help you meet someone new?”

Donghyuck nibbled the inside of his lip, considering. “I know what you’re saying, but-“

“If he told you he wasn’t interested and you kept pressing, then you’d be in the wrong. You haven’t done anything to be judged for, Donghyuck. Infatuation for a stranger isn’t weird unless you make it weird.”

The pebble was diminished, somehow, just from Jaehyun’s words. “Are you sure?” he asked, voice small.

“I’m sure.”

“Thank you. I think I needed to hear that.”

“Besides,” Jaehyun said, “How do you know that Jeno isn’t trying to organise the same thing?”

-

“Has Jeno actually said anything about me?” Donghyuck asked, both physically and emotionally cornering Jaemin in the kitchen of his apartment.

Jaemin blinked. “Today?”

“At all.”

“Of course he has. Do you really think I’d work this hard to organise a not-so-chance meeting for a guy that didn’t give a shit?”

Donghyuck pressed his lips together, uncertain. “What has he said?”

“That you seem really sweet. Funny, too.” Jaemin smirked. “He wanted to know if you had any social media, but I said that your accounts are all private. You know what that means, right?”

“He wanted to see me?”

“He wanted to rub his eyeballs all over your supple body.”

Suddenly, it didn’t sound so hopeful. “You’re disgusting.”

“Maybe so, but you know what else I am?”

“Stupid?”

“That too, but I was referring to the fact that I’m the best kind of friend you could ever have. Jeno is coming to stay next weekend.”

An then it wasn’t hope that had Donghyuck’s heart in his throat, it was a spike of panic. “Huh?”

“Aren’t you excited?” Jaemin clapped his hands together. “Wine! Board games! Renjun and I sneaking off halfway through the party too snuggle! What else could you want for your first meeting?”

“I need to cut my hair,” Donghyuck said, reaching up for the mess. He’d dyed it not too long ago, but as it was, no style lasted more than an hour before it melded back into its original, unidentifiable shape.

“That’s what you’ve decided to focus on? Your split ends?” Jaemin grabbed his shoulders and shook lightly. “Baby, when I invited Jeno over, his first question was if you would be here! Fuck your hair, he cares about your sexy personality!”

But Donghyuck had seen Jeno, he knew exactly what to expect. Jeno could have been picturing anyone, and that anyone probably had hair that looked somewhat acceptable.

Anxiety wasn’t something Donghyuck experienced often, so when it hit suddenly like this, he felt at a loss.

“Hyuck.”

He glanced up at Jaemin’s expectant face. “Yeah?”

“You don’t have anything to worry about. I would never set you up to fail.”

“What if he doesn’t like me?”

“It’s Jeno. I don’t think he’s capable of disliking anyone, but even if he was, he could never dislike you. I think it’s impossible.”

“Because he’s so nice?”

“Because you’re so you.”

-

Despite Jaemin’s words and the way they had balmed the panic, Donghyuck still got a haircut. He knew Taeyong wouldn’t leave him with something awful, and just getting the ends cut off felt like a rite of passage of sorts. The move from disgusting postgrad student to someone datable. Hopefully, anyway. With or without the split ends, he was still Donghyuck, and it was too late to change that.

“The colour is keeping well,” Taeyong said, gently combing through Donghyuck’s hair. “Trimming the ends will help your curls, too. You’re about to be cuter than ever.”

“I hope so,” he muttered.

It made Taeyong pause. “Oh? Are you seeing someone special?”

“Maybe. I don’t know yet.”

“If you’re seeing them, or if they’re special?”

He shrugged, cheeks heating. “Both.”

-

Jeno and Jaemin did a joint stream that night, a game that Jaemin had known Donghyuck wouldn’t have enjoyed. As much as he liked watching other people get frustrated, something like Cup Head would have had him launching his controller through the bedroom window. For a game like that, Donghyuck was content to watch from his bed, hoodie over his head, hands covered by his sleeves. He had his laptop propped on his chest, and the angle gave him several extra chins, but he had no one to impress as he watched Jeno die for the fifth time in a row.

“Do you genuinely enjoy this game?” He asked Jaemin, frowning ever so slightly as he focused.

Jaemin, who was apparently good at this game and this game alone, laughed. “Yeah! I like a challenge.”

And Donghyuck was tempted to write something, but he didn’t want them to know he was watching. Just this once, he wanted to be an anonymous viewer that took comfort from watching people enjoy something.

“Does Haechan enjoy games like this?”

If he hadn’t been so surprised himself, he wouldn’t have missed the way Jaemin jolted and immediately died.

It took Jaemin a moment, but he cleared his throats and gathered his thoughts. The comments on his stream were going crazy. “He doesn’t like these kinds of games, no. He’s too bratty to lose this many times without rage-quitting.”

Jeno laughed, smile as soft as tulips. “He seems really sweet.”

“He is.” Na Jaemin, best friend a person could ask for. Na Jaemin, who would definitely be receiving the most expensive birthday present Donghyuck could afford to buy. “Are you looking forward to meeting everyone this weekend?” He winked at the camera. “That’s right guys, we’re having a small gathering. You’ll see most of it on my Instagram, I’m sure. It’s about time for me to post my yearly selfie, anyway, so look forward to it.”

Donghyuck smiled at that.

“I can’t wait to meet everyone in person,” Jeno said, back on track in the game. He couldn’t quite keep up with Jaemin, but Donghyuck knew first-hand just how difficult it was. “I’ve spent so long watching you guys stream, and then – God, I remember the first time you contacted me and asked if we’d wanna work together. I still treasure that.”

“You’re too good for the word, Jeno,” Jaemin said, just touched enough that Donghyuck could hear it in his voice. “You fit right in, like you were always meant to be here.”

Jeno smiled again. “It feels like that for me too.” He died again, and the smile fell away. “Actually, I changed my mind.”

Jaemin laughed, and from his nest, Donghyuck laughed too. The comments were a mess of clashing opinions, questions about Donghyuck’s relationship with Jaemin, questions about Jaemin’s relationship with Jeno, about collages, distance, location, shoe size. It was a mess, just like it always was, but this time it had spilled into Jeno’s stream too.

He didn’t seem to mind, though.

“You know Haechan?”

Jaemin hummed. “Yes, I know him. It’s unfortunate but true.”

Jeno laughed again, but it was subdued. “I played it cool when he first commented on one of my streams, but I’ve always loved it when he’d join you. Is that weird?”

“I think most of my viewers are there for Haechan, actually,” Jaemin said, though he threw a wink to the camera to soften the comment. “Why would it be weird?”

“I don’t know,” Jeno murmured. If Donghyuck wasn’t reeling, maybe he’d have tried to analyse Jeno’s expression. As it was, he felt struck stupid at the realisation that Jeno watched Jaemin’s streams. Like – of course he did. But the ones with Donghyuck? He hadn’t even considered it. “Do you ever feel like maybe you project too much into something that isn’t really there?”

It was a deep question for a stream of Cup Head, but Jaemin took it in stride. “If you think about it, nothing is really here. Everything is nothing. Why not make shit up if it makes you happy?”

“Yeah,” Jeno said, smile small and uncertain. “I guess you’re right.”

“It’s not frequent, but sometimes it does happen,” Jaemin replied. “When my two braincells finally meet, sparks can fly.”

Donghyuck closed the stream there, content and hopeful and just a little emotional for a reason he couldn’t place. He called Renjun, too teary to be on his own, and they talked about assignments and presentations and the process of falling in love until they were both asleep next to their phones, still connected but each traversing their own dreams.

-

As much as he willed it away, the weekend kept approaching, day by day. With his split ends gone and his assignments submitted, Donghyuck didn’t even have an excuse for his growing despair.

“Nothing’s the same in person as it is online,” he said into Renjun’s neck. It was one of the rare evenings they had together without one of their other friends wandering in or demanding attention like an annoying cat. “I’m scared.”

“I don’t think you have anything to be scared of,” Renjun said. “You’ll be with all of us, and we’d never let anything bad happen to you. Besides, you’ve barely interacted with him online anyway; there’s nothing there that could be different, because there’s nothing there in the first place.”

But Jaemin’s words had proven far too true, far too accurate for Donghyuck’s pitiful state to handle.

Why not make shit up if it makes you happy?

Wasn’t that what he’d been doing? He’d found comfort in a soothing voice, and then something had grown in his chest, a flower in the shape of unfounded hope. He’d seen his share of deluded fans, but he’d never thought he’d class himself as one before. He’d spoken to Jeno, sure, but he didn’t know Jeno. Not really.

“I never told you this, but I met Jaemin through his streams,” Renjun said, suddenly enough to shock Donghyuck out of his mire. “I was on YouTube looking for tutorials on how to set up my new desk chair, and a clip from one of his streams came up. I watched it, and then watched the full stream, which was basically three hours of him struggling with Ikea appliances. I watched his next stream, left some kind of stupid comment about how cute he was because I didn’t understand that other people could see the comment, and we eventually hit it off.”

“I thought you met in a bookstore?”

“We did. Face to face, at least. We’d been talking for a couple of weeks before that.” Renjun’s cheeks darkened, but his eyes stayed open and honest. “You’re not some loser camped outside of a famous dude’s apartment, Hyuck. You’re a college student with a crush on another college student that happens to play puzzle games for a niche audience. I was a college student with a crush on another collage student that happened to build furniture really badly while politely turning down Onlyfans suggestions. Life works in mysterious ways, but you know we wouldn’t let anyone hurt you.”

“I cant believe you managed to comment on Twitch. You can barely open your emails.”

Renjun’s smile was small but genuine. “It was a miracle he saw my comment at all, but that’s what I’m saying: life works in mysterious ways. If I can meet Jaemin like that, then who knows what is in store for you? You shouldn’t shy away from it because you’re worried about embarrassing yourself. Maybe Jeno is attracted to clowns.”

-

Despite Renjun’s words, Donghyuck decided to leave his red nose and face paint at home. He already felt on the verge of vomiting, and the three beers he’d had with Mark before heading to Jaemin’s apartment hadn’t done anything to help his nerves.

He’d spent way too long tearing through his closet to find something that didn’t look hideous, and even then he’d wanted to cry when he looked at himself in the mirror.

“You look nice,” Mark had said.

“I just look normal.”

Mark had squinted. “Yeah? Of course you do. A cool shirt isn’t plastic surgery.”

But he looked like Donghyuck, and it was sending him on a downward spiral. What did Haechan sound like? Confident, funny, smart. What did Donghyuck look like? Any other guy that had finally cut off his split ends.

Mark leant over and passed him another beer. “Jeno is a geology student, dude. He’s not looking to meet a model; he’s looking to meet you.”

“All of us,” Donghyuck corrected. “He wants to meet all of us.”

“He’s met all of us except for you, Renjun, and Jaemin, and I can promise you that the only person he texts me about is you.”

Donghyuck bent over, wheezing. “I’m gonna hurl.”

“Oh, shit. Is it the beer?”

“It’s the nerves, asshat!”

“Oh. What do you have to be nervous about?”

“You’re telling me you wouldn’t shit a brick if Johnny Suh turned up?”

The potent mixture of alarm, longing, and humiliation that crossed Mark’s face was almost enough to calm him down. “Yeah, well Johnny isn’t gonna be there. Jeno is, though.”

He doubled over again, Mark’s petty laughter in his ears.

-

If it had been online, maybe on a webcomic or a game’s cutscene, a Netflix movie, an Amazon short – maybe it would have been romantic. Lights dimmed, Donghyuck would walk into Jaemin’s apartment and the spotlight would shift perfectly to Jeno, highlighting him in the crowd. Glitter would fall like rain, and they’d meet somewhere in the middle, perfectly. That would have been nice.

Instead, Donghyuck walked in to see Jeno scrubbing at a shirt with a wet cloth. He looked up and met Donghyuck’s eyes without any kind of comprehension. His smile was prettier in person, but it lacked familiarity. “Chenle spilled his wine.”

“He does that.”

Jeno’s eyes widened. His scrubbing paused. “Haechan?”

Ah.

That smile was more familiar.

“Hi,” Donghyuck said, hoping that whatever his face was doing wasn’t horrifically ugly. “It’s, uh. Donghyuck here. And everywhere else that’s like – not online.”

“Cool!” Jeno said, smile growing. “For me it’s… Jeno. Everywhere. Jeno’s my name.”

“It’s a nice name.”

When was the smile going to stop growing? It had overtaken Jeno’s entire face, and Donghyuck was beginning to grow concerned for the other people in the room. “Thanks,” Jeno said. “Donghyuck’s a nice name too. Pretty.”

“I’m gonna get another beer,” Mark said faintly. “Awesome to see you, Jeno.”

Donghyuck concurred. It was good to see Jeno, especially when he stopped trying to scrub the wine from his shirt and stood at his full height, pulling Donghyuck into a half hug that almost had him fainting.

Jeno smelled amazing, like expensive cologne and sweet laundry detergent. He was taller than Donghyuck had expected. Wider too. He had a tiny spot just beneath his jaw on the left side, and his hair was messy.

Maybe he wouldn’t have minded the split ends.

“It’s so good to see you in person,” Jeno said warmly. He still hadn’t stopped smiling. “I tried not to build a picture of you in my head, but still, you look so different to what I imagined.”

Donghyuck laughed, though it came out closer to a panicked squawk. “Better, I hope.”

“Of course!”

Wherever he was, Renjun was probably laughing.

Donghyuck was beginning to wish he’d brought his clown nose. At least then he’d look how he felt.

“Do you want a drink?” Jeno asked, once it became clear that Donghyuck didn’t have the ability to make conversation like an adult should.

“Please,” he said, glad that words actually came out when they had to. “A beer would be good.”

“Cool.” Jeno smiled again. “I’ll go get us some and find you.”

And then he was gone, and Donghyuck could breathe again. It was all catching up to him at a rapid pace, the way he hadn’t noticed that Jeno was wearing skin-tight black jeans and a tucked in black tee, the way he hand three rings on each hand, the way his nails were painted baby pink but chipped and bitten, the way he had an undercut-

He fumbled around the apartment until Jaemin came into sight, raising a glass of something fizzy like the Twitch equivalent of Jay Gatsby. He caught sight of Donghyuck and grinned. “You look fantastic. I love it when you wear clothes that aren’t four sizes too big for you. I’d almost forgotten that you have a waist!”

Donghyuck looked down at himself, not for the first time that evening, but for the first time since he’d left his apartment. He’d been worried about the shirt, despite Mark’s many awkward reassurances, because he didn’t know if the yellow was too much. He didn’t want to look like some kind warning light. “It’s not too much?”

“Not at all. The blue jeans were a good choice.” Jaemin leered a little, somehow in a supportive way. “More tears than fabric, though. I’d forgotten you have legs, too. You should get them out more often.” He leaned close. “I saw that you met Jeno. Thoughts?”

“I do have them, but I couldn’t tell you what they mean right now,” Donghyuck said miserably. “I – he – yeah.”

Jaemin nodded. “Yeah.” He pinched Donghyuck’s cheek, unbothered when his hand was smacked away. “He’s great, right?”

“I think I’m making an idiot of myself.”

“You’re doing fine. I can see he’s looking for you now, so go take that beer and laugh at his jokes.”

Donghyuck followed Jaemin’s advice instead of smacking him again, threading through the crowd. He greeted a couple of familiar faces, but a surprisingly large amount of people he’d never seen before made up most of the groups, presumably people from Twitch or YouTube that Jaemin and Jeno had befriended over the years. It was easy to forget that despite how much streaming exhausted him, he took a relatively backseat role. How Jaemin and Jeno managed to juggle almost daily online work and a full-time education, Donghyuck didn’t know.

He took the beer that Jeno offered with thanks and then decided to ask, “How do you balance your work so well?”

Jeno laughed. “Well? I wouldn’t say I do it well.”

“But how do you do it at all?” Donghyuck asked. He went to sip his beer, but his lips touched metal. The cap was still on the beer. He stared at it, uncomprehending until Jeno passed him a bottle opener.

“I didn’t want you to worry that it had been messed with,” Jeno said.

“Oh.” Donghyuck looked down at his beer again. He hadn’t even considered that, which was bad on his part, but good on Jeno’s for being so pre-emptive. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Jeno took a swig of his own beer and leaned back against the wall, showing off the sleek lines of his body to Donghyuck’s greedy eyes. “As for the management, I, uh. To be honest, I don’t know. I think a lot of the worry is taken away when you have a genuinely nice following, you know? My audience don’t mind what games I wanna play. Sometimes I’ll make polls, but most of the time it’s just what I feel like.”

“What are your favourite games to play?”

“Definitely HOGs. They really help my stress levels, and they’re a favourite of the channel. Action games are exciting, but I find them kind of overwhelming if I play them too often. Horror games can be fun, but most of the more recent ones are too predictable, so I don’t play them much anymore. HOGs are just… rhythmic. They all have a narrative, and they’re not so fast paced that I can’t interact with the people that are on the stream with me. I also like that there’s a HOG game for everything. Christmas? At least twenty HOG games. Dracula? I’ve seen five and counting. There’s a couple of franchises based around detective series, too. I’m pretty sure I saw one that was based around missing gnomes, but I haven’t checked it out yet. There’s always time.”

Donghyuck felt like someone had kicked him in the stomach and pushed him into a well. He hadn’t let himself consider the possibility that he would like Jeno even more in person, but his rambling, his bad posture, his constant smile, his messy hair –

Donghyuck liked him even more.

He wanted to watch Jeno play a game about gnomes.

Instead of confessing, he asked, “Have you played Slime Rancher?”

Jeno blinked cutely. “Have I played what?”

“Slime Rancher. It’s a management game. It’s not a HOG, but it’s nice. It’s nice to play when you want to relax.”

“What do you manage?” Jeno, despite his probable intelligence, seemed to actually be interested in what Donghyuck’s stuttering thoughts were spitting out.

“You manage – well. Slimes. You feed them and look after a ranch, and you sell plorts, which are… shits. You sell the slimes’ shits. On the plort market. The shit market.” Donghyuck put his beer down and rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m not selling this game very well.”

Jeno laughed, startlingly loud. Startlingly fond. “You’re selling it fantastically, actually. My interest has been piqued. I’ll be sure to check it out at some point.”

Despite his ill feeling, Donghyuck couldn’t help but smile back. Jeno kind of inspired smiles. “Good. If you do, I hope you enjoy it.”

“I’m sure I will, since you recommended it. From what I’ve seen of Jaemin’s streams, we seem to like the same things.”

“You think?”

“Yeah. I do.”

He used to know how to flirt. What the hell had happened? Twenty-three was too young for an early retirement alone. “I’m glad.”

Jeno nodded, and Donghyuck wanted to swallow the glass beer bottle whole.

-

He didn’t usually smoke, but when drunk and in despair, then yeah, he’ll take the offered cigarette from a stranger’s hand. He stole a lighter from someone else’s back pocket and climbed out of Jaemin’s bedroom window, wiggling his way up onto the fire escape to light it and breathe in some of the night are along with the nicotine.

Last he’d seen, Jeno had been arm-wrestling with Jaemin. He’d been winning, too, and Donghyuck had decided to remove himself from the situation before he dropped to his knees or cried. Or both.

“The more I think about it, the more perfect it becomes,” Renjun had mused, watching. “I really like Jeno. He seems like a good person all the way through to the core. You, on the other hand, get worse the further inside I look. Like an egg with something gross in the yolk.”

“Thanks,” Donghyuck deadpanned.

“I mean it in a positive way! You’re opposites in a positive way! You’re obnoxious, Jeno is calm. You like to be manhandled, and it’s looking like Jeno likes to manhandle. You’re bossy, Jeno likes to be bossed around. You like Jeno, and from the way he’s talked about you ever since he got off the train, he likes you too. Gross yolk and all.”

And after such a wonderful pep talk, the only thing Donghyuck could do was accept the cigarette offered by a stranger and climb out of the window.

It took him too long to smoke, and he had to relight it a couple of times before he gave up and stubbed it out against the brick, pocketing the tab to take to whichever bin he saw first. (He was drunk and confused, but if a meteor had hit him he still would have made sure his splattered organs made it into the trash. Littering was never cool).

“Donghyuck!”

It was Jeno, because of course it was.

He stuck his head back through the window, and after a moment Jeno caught sight of him, smiling as he wandered into the bedroom. “Jaemin has gone live, do you wanna join? It’s only for a couple of minutes to show the viewers that we weren’t joking about the party. Mixing audiences, you know? Good for everyone.”

Donghyuck nodded. Then he shook his head. “Yeah, it’s a good idea, but I, uh, I’m okay thanks. You go have fun.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” He glanced back out at the night sky, but the stars were hidden behind a blanket of thin clouds. “I like my privacy. I want that life and this life to be mostly separate.”

“Okay. One second.” Jeno left the room, and there was a cheer from somewhere else in the apartment, Chenle’s laughter ringing out as Jaemin tried to talk over everyone, asking for calmness. Then Jeno was back, and the bedroom door was closing behind him. “Would you mind some company?”

Donghyuck blinked. “Company?”

Jeno took a seat beneath the window, looking up at Donghyuck through the glass. “The fans saw me, and it was nice to talk to them for a while, but I do that most days. I didn’t come here to talk to them, I came here to talk to you.” He paused. “Everyone.”

Everyone. It wasn’t the best save, considering the everyone he was talking about were occupying another room as a group.

It made something in Donghyuck’s heart constrict. The way Jeno’s eyes were always so big and earnest, and the way he didn’t seem to care that he was being a terrible guest by ignoring his host.

As if reading Donghyuck’s thoughts, Jeno said, “Jaemin said he’d rather you had someone to talk to than have me feel I had to stay. He was pretty eager for me to leave, actually. If he wasn’t trying to help me out I might have been offended.”

Donghyuck hummed and tried not to let his floating heart carry him away. “What exactly is he helping you with?”

Jeno’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “I’m sure you know.”

“I don’t think I do.”

“It’s probably what he’s helping you with.” Jeno tipped his head back and sighed, wistful. “I’ve always found it easier interacting with people when I can’t see them. It’s less embarrassing that way.” He tuned back to face Donghyuck. “Why do you feel like you need to keep your worlds separate? I’m not criticising or anything, just wondering.”

“I think…” You have been superliked! “I think that in our day to day lives, we’re all being judged whether we know it or not. I don’t want more people judging me. I don’t want an audience for my life. They can judge Haechan all they want, they can think whatever the hell they like, because that isn’t me. It’s just a small part of me, and if it makes people happy then that’s great, but I’m not willing to expose the rest of myself. Jaemin knows his boundaries, and his fans know, as I’m sure you and yours do to, but I don’t think I could deal with it. Not well.”

There was a silent moment, and then Jeno nodded. “I understand. Is that why Jaemin can’t talk about Renjun?”

“Kind of. Renjun’s perspective is a little different, more that their relationship is no one’s business but theirs.” Donghyuck lowered his voice into a secretive whisper. “He’s also possessive. It makes him feel good that Jaemin flirts with his audience and then crawls into bed and begs for a kiss, you know? Sadistic tendencies always seem to blossom in the shortest people.”

“They have to punish the tall,” Jeno said with a nod. “It makes sense.”

Donghyuck couldn’t help but laugh. If Jeno were anyone else, anyone slightly less significant, then Donghyuck would have leant back through the window to kiss him. It would have been easy – simple. But Jeno deserved more than easy and simple, so Donghyuck climbed back through the window and sat beside him, hand out.

Jeno looked down at his open palm expectantly. “Yes?”

“Give me your phone so that we can exchange numbers.”

“Oh! Sure, that would be great.” The eye smile came out to shine, and Jeno unlocked his phone and passed it into Donghyuck’s waiting hand without the slightest hesitation. “I was, uh. Meant to ask you for the same thing, but I didn’t want to come on too strong. I wanted to ask you to lunch tomorrow. If that’s okay.”

“That’s okay,” Donghyuck said, handing the phone back. “Ask away.”

Jeno laughed. “Would you like to go to lunch with me tomorrow?”

“I would.”

“Just us?”

“Just us.”

And it became so apparent so quickly that Jeno’s happiness online couldn’t hold a candle to the beauty of it in real life. His joy was made to be seen in person, the warmth of it like sunshine even as the moon slept behind the clouds.

-

It was pretty fucking funny to wake up just before noon, disoriented and slightly hungover, to see the notification of Jaemin’s Instagram live. Donghyuck reached for his glasses and then clicked on the notification, and was greeted by the sight of both Jaemin and Jeno doing their best to answer questions while turning various shades of green.

Donghyuck laughed. He wasn’t the only one feeling the beer, then.

“Are we dating?” Jeno’s eyes went wide as Jaemin burst into laughter. “No! Not – no. Seriously, this isn’t a haha-we’re-in-denial-but-kissing-off-camera thing, this is a no thing. We’re not dating. It wouldn’t… just no.”

“Jeno feels like the other half of my soul,” Jaemin said, hand on his heart. “And I’m only into selfcest if it’s anime.”

“Besides, we’re both – never mind.” Jeno went pink, which mixed very oddly (endearingly) with his greener hues. “Huh? Yeah, Haechan was there too! We have some pictures together, but you guys know he values his privacy.”

“I’ll post them later once I come up with a cute way to edit his face out,” Jaemin said. “If he’s okay with it, of course. I’m sure he’ll text me any minute now.”

“Yeah,” Jeno said softly, eyes on the comments that Donghyuck was too tired to read, “Yeah, he’s really nice. I like him a lot. Even more than I thought I would.”

Jaemin nudged him gently, smile fond. “Speaking of, you should probably get a shower. Aren’t you due for lunch in the next hour or so?”

Donghyuck closed the live then, too full of that nameless emotion that made him want to float away, too full of everything to do anything other than breathe for a moment.

-

He showered and took his time getting ready, choosing the right pair of jeans, the right white shirt to pair, and then just before he set off for the diner Jeno had chosen, he checked Instagram one last time.

Jaemin had posted the picture of them, Renjun behind the camera and encouraging them to press closer. Chenle, Mark, Jaemin, Jeno, and then Donghyuck, who had a foot emoji over his face.

The photo’s caption was his shoe size.

-

“Nice to feet you,” Jeno said with an adorable smile.

Donghyuck grunted, sitting down without grace. “Fucker. Next time he wants me to stream with him he can beg on his hands and knees.”

“It was Renjun’s idea.”

“Of course it was, but he has no incentive to beg for me. I’ll settle for Jaemin.”

“It’ll still piss Renjun off if it’s Jaemin, right? You said that he’s possessive. He won’t want Jaemin begging anyone else for something.”

The fact that he could say something like that with the same pretty smile made Donghyuck fall into something that felt precariously close to love.

‘Knowing I’m being reckless doesn’t change how I feel. It doesn’t change how he makes me feel.’

“I have a big stupid crush on you,” Donghyuck admitted. “Also, I’m gonna order a grilled cheese with avocado. What do you want? I’m buying.”

“It’s not a stupid crush,” Jeno said, looking slightly wounded. “Why would it be stupid? Does that make my crush on you stupid too?” He glanced down at the open menu. “I’ll have the burger, but I’m paying.”

“No, I’m paying.”

“Don-“

“I’m paying.”

Jeno’s mouth closed with a click. After a second he nodded, blushing, and Donghyuck felt a thrill of something that was a little less like love and a little more like lust.

-

Once they’d both confessed and ordered their food, it was surprisingly not awkward. They talked about careers and education for a while, finding solace in the fact that neither of them truly knew what they were doing. It was just part of the college experience, but it was nice to know that Jeno wasn’t as perfect as he appeared. He still had spots. He still failed the occasional assignment about coastal erosion. He still had too much coffee and then slept in the library when he had an upcoming exam.

“How long did it take you to get here?”

“About two and a half hours by train.” Jeno smiled again. “It’s manageable. If we’re talking monthly, it’s definitely so. Bi-weekly could work too, if you wanted it to.”

Donghyuck definitely had cheese on his face, but that wasn’t deterring Jeno, so he didn’t let it deter himself either. “Bi-weekly could work. If you want it too, that is.”

“I do.”

“Careful,” Donghyuck warned, finally picking up a napkin to wipe at his mouth, “You might get bored of me pretty quick.”

“I don’t think I could,” Jeno said. Then he pointed to Donghyuck’s cheek. “You keep missing the cheese, it’s further to the left.”

“What, you’re not gonna get it for me? No licking in public?” Donghyuck pouted, scrubbing his cheek with the napkin. “How sad.”

Jeno blushed, just the way Donghyuck had hoped he would.

The extra napkin thrown at his face was deserved, but Donghyuck accepted that easily. It was a small price to pay for the seemingly unending smile Jeno reserved just for him.

-

“This is unfair,” Renjun said that evening, curled up on Donghyuck’s bed. “I wish I had a man that shut up when I told him to.”

“Jaemin would do absolutely anything for you,” Donghyuck said, spinning his chair to kick half-heartedly at Renjun’s prone body. Most of his attention was on Jaemin’s stream, where GTA Online was slowly descending into chaos. Jisung seemed to be the only one that knew what he was supposed to be doing. Chenle had some kind of mod installed that kept dropping his character from the sky at random intervals, and Jaemin and Jeno were fighting in person, moving in and out of view of the camera. It was nice that they got on so well in person. It felt like Jeno had always been there, the other, tamer half of Jaemin’s soul.

“Are you jealous?” Renjun asked. “My man is stealing your man.”

“They knew each other first,” Donghyuck murmured, eyes on the screen. “If Jaemin wanted Jeno, he would have had him.”

“I don’t think so,” Renjun said, rolling over. He tugged on the arm of Donghyuck’s chair, wheeling him closer to the bed. “Jeno has been watching Jaemin’s streams for years now, and he always said that you were his favourite guest.” His voice lowered. “He admitted it to me last night, once everyone had left the party and we were clearing up. He’s always liked you the most, Donghyuck.”

-

He wanted to keep the kiss at the train station chaste, but his mouth had other ideas.

One moment Jeno was smiling down at him, and the next they’d left the station to get out of the public eye while Donghyuck tried to devour Jeno in the three minutes they had before his train was due.

They fit together perfectly, so perfectly that Donghyuck felt weak from it, the way Jeno’s big hands clenched around his waist as he licked Donghyuck’s bottom lip.

Donghyuck opened his mouth and threaded his hands into Jeno’s messy hair, raising onto his toes to meet him halfway, tongue hot and wet and –

Jeno pulled back, red in the face, lips swollen. “I know you were joking about the whole licking in public yesterday, but I’d rather not be fined for public indecency.”

Donghyuck licked his lips and tried not to pout. “But we won’t get to do that for another two weeks.”

“We’ve survived this long, haven’t we?”

“Barely,” Donghyuck said, the pout appearing without his permission.

“We can survive a little longer,” Jeno said, stroking the back of his hand against Donghyuck’s cheek. It was a gesture that was almost unbearably tender, leaving Donghyuck even weaker than before. A strong breeze could have sent him hurtling.

“I’ll miss you,” Donghyuck admitted. “I know it’s been two days but – I’ll miss you. I know I will. I already do.”

Jeno leant down and kissed him again, just a gentle press of lips, soft and warm. “I’ll miss you too. I already do.”

Donghyuck waved goodbye from the platform as the train left the station. He saw Jeno briefly, a figure in the window waving just as enthusiastically, and to Donghyuck’s pleasant surprise, the sadness he felt was almost entirely outweighed by the hope.

-

“Huh?” Jeno squinted down at his chat, glasses sliding down his nose. “It Takes Two? Yeah, it looks like a great game! Everyone is saying positive things.”

“How could it possibly be better than this?” Donghyuck asked. Jeno was visiting his island in Animal Crossing, stealing as many peaches as he could pocket.

“I’m not sure,” Jeno replied, glasses slipping again. Donghyuck smiled at the sight, at the familiar line in between Jeno’s brows that appeared when he was really focusing on reading. “Huh? No, I won’t be playing it on stream, I’ll be playing it on my own time with my boyfriend.”

It wasn’t the first mention of boyfriend in his streams, but it was the first time Donghyuck had been a guest when it happened. He was once again glad for the lack of face cam, because neither Jeno nor the viewers could see how red he turned just at the mention of the word.

              Is he cute?

“The cutest,” Jeno said, solemn.

              Even cuter than Jaemin? Haechan?

“Yes.”

              NO ONE IS CUTER THAN JAEMIN AND HAECHAN!!!

Donghyuck laughed when he saw that the last comment was left by Jaemin, who must have been stopping by despite his date night.

              What does Haechan think? Is Jeno’s boyfriend cute? T^T

“He’s cute,” Donghyuck said. “But don’t worry, Jaemin is right. No one is cuter than me.”

“My boyfriend is,” Jeno said, looking at the camera. He smiled. “Haechan is cute, but no one is cuter than Donghyuck. Not to me.”