i get drunk on jealousy

by agnes_writes

Summary:

Jealousy is a natural emotion. That doesn't mean Rin or Nezha know how to deal with it like normal people.

OR: A two-shot featuring a jealous Rin and Nezha.

Notes:

• For isola13.

This is the first of two chapters, but it can stand alone. The next part would be Nezha getting jealous, which is always a treat to write about and read. My two emotionally constipated morons.

Isola, this one's for you, yet again.

Arika, thank you for your emotional support.

Chapter 1: Rin

Rin’s predicament started in Professor Yim’s Nikara History class.

It was one of their few minor subjects for their programs, with her majoring in Chemical Engineering, and Nezha with his Marine Biology and Business Administration double degree, but it was required and still had the weight of 3 units, which was still a big deal when computing their general weighted average, so Rin still took it incredibly seriously because of her scholarship.

Yim assigned a partner project for them to research and write a paper on a particular prominent figure in Nikara history, but the catch was none of them got to pick their partners, much to their consternation—Yim chose their partners randomly for them. Rin was partnered with Nohai, one of the few people from her early elective classes in her first year at Sinegard University, who mostly kept to himself and got good grades, so she wasn’t too upset with the pick.

And Nezha was partnered with a girl named Chunhua, who they were sharing a class with for the very first time in this subject.

Rin can admit to herself that Chunhua is pretty, with warm dark brown eyes that crease when she smiles, and dimples in her peach skin, and she seems easygoing, amicable, bubbly, and just a pleasant person to be around.

Nezha had told Rin as much when they were let out of class.

“Guess Professor Yim saved me from a slew of migraines,” he’d told her smugly, which she responded to with a middle finger.

“Go fuck yourself. I am a great fucking partner; we’ve gotten perfect scores for every single paper.”

Nezha had snorted, and replied, “True, but don’t deny it—if we became partners, we both know exactly what was going to happen. We were going to fight over who to do a paper on until the weekend before the deadline, then pull two all-nighters just to catch up and blame each other for the delay.”

Rin rolled her eyes, grumbling under her breath. But Nezha wasn’t finished talking.

“She gave me her number,” Nezha said, taking his phone out and a piece of paper Rin hadn’t noticed him holding. He inputted her number into his contacts, and typed out a message. A few seconds later, his phone buzzed, and Nezha nodded, looking satisfied. “Good to go. You have Enro next, don’t you?”

Rin nodded, groaning. “Anatomy and Physiology will end up killing me.”

Nezha snorted. “I’ll be sure to throw a party when it finally does.”

“At least bring the good alcohol.”

“Of course, I’m not a fucking heathen.”

Rin was about to retort when his phone buzzed again. She frowned as Nezha typed a response.

“Who was that?” she’d found herself asking.

Nezha didn’t look up from his phone when he answered. “Chunhua. She wants to meet up after her last class to talk about the paper.”

Her frown deepened, a weird twinge in her stomach.

“The deadline is in two months.”

“Not everyone wants to do shit last minute, Rin.”

“Aren’t we heading over to Venka’s tonight to study for Jun’s long exam, though?”

Nezha blinked, as if he’d forgotten they were going to do that in the first place. The weird twinge became a knot now, making her feel wildly unsettled. Maybe what she ate for lunch didn’t sit well with her.

“I’ll catch up. It shouldn’t be too long, we might just pick a person.”

“Oh,” Rin responded, very intelligently. “Fine, then.”

“I’ll beat your ass in that exam, don’t worry. A pretty girl won’t distract me, if that’s what you’re so concerned about. I won’t let you show me up,” Nezha retorted, pocketing his phone disinterestedly.

Her chest tightened at the words ‘pretty girl’.

What the fuck?

Maybe she needed to go to the campus physician. She might be getting heartburn or something.

Before she could make sense of what she was feeling, though, Nezha’s stupid little smartwatch beeped, signaling that they had five minutes to get to their next class. He’d bumped her shoulder and told her not to die climbing the stairs to the Medicine Wing before he left for his class with Sonnen.

He was an hour late that night, and didn’t even bother texting ahead to any of them, the inconsiderate fuck.

That was three weeks ago.

~*~

Rin and Nohai decide to write about Speerly Queen Mai’rin’nen Tearza. Nohai is surprisingly easy to work with, doesn’t complain, and does whatever he’s tasked with diligently, so she doesn’t have many qualms or arguments about it. They write both a critique and a defense of her role in the annexation of Speer, and Nohai has some insightful points to make about what kind of sacrifice leading a country entails. It’s dramatic stuff, but Rin was often criticized for being too biased and nitpicky in her papers, so this might be the humanizing touch needed to balance everything out.

All in all, the paper is a breeze, and Nezha had been right: they finish and turn it in weeks early, and Yim saved her so many headaches and useless fights.

At least for Rin.

For some reason, however, Nezha and Chunhua aren’t as efficient in writing their own paper, which makes them end up researching their person a table away from Rin at the Sinegard library, where she’s reviewing for a quiz for Jima’s class.

“That’s ambitious,” she hears Chunhua comment, and Rin immediately stiffens.

“It is, but you can’t write about the Dragon Emperor without giving the Vipress and the Gatekeeper a mention,” Nezha replies, typing something on his laptop. “So we might as well dedicate a section to each of them.”

“Wouldn’t Yim dock points for that?” Chunhua asks.

“It won’t be about the three of them, per se,” Nezha elaborates, eyes still trained on his laptop. “Just the contributions they’ve had to the Dragon Emperor’s reign. It would be impossible to write this paper otherwise.”

Chunhua makes a noise of agreement.

Rin’s textbook lay forgotten on her desk, her eyes fixated on the two of them. Nezha’s concentrating on summarizing information for whatever it is they’re writing, but Chunhua’s not. No, she’s staring at Nezha intently, almost as if admiring his features. A small smile plays on her pink, glossed lips.

Gods, she really is pretty, isn’t she?

What the fuck?

Rin tries to think about something else—Nezha’s decided to write about the Dragon Emperor. She’s certain it’s his idea, because she knows him well enough to know he enjoys a challenge, which, in this case, entails detailing the lives of three people so intertwined separation would be a disservice and almost misinformation. Nezha has always had a weird distaste for the Trifecta, for reasons Rin can’t quite understand.

She also knows for a fact that if they were partners, she would veto the idea. The Trifecta were some of the most famous figures in Nikara history, second only to the Phoenix Goddess and the Dragon Marshal, and even the Red Emperor himself. Rin would argue that they need to stand out, because there have been so many papers written about the Trifecta it’s bordering on academic cliché. 

Nezha would also 100% fight her on choosing Mai’rin’nen Tearza, on the grounds that technically, she isn’t Nikara. Then they would go on to have a big argument about Speer’s relevance in Nikan’s history and it’ll be a huge stink that would end up getting them kicked out of the library for the day because they got too loud.

Rin can picture it so vividly; it sort of concerns her.

She’s brought back to the present when Chunhua’s arm brushes against Nezha, the tips of her fingers touching the side of his hand.

She doesn’t know how the hell she even noticed that.

“Hold on, the Gatekeeper, the Dragon Emperor, and the Vipress’ relationships were never confirmed in records. You can’t presume they’re romantic by nature,” Chunhua points out, leaning closer to the laptop screen, their faces inches away from each other.

Nezha pauses, then gives her a smile. Cue a sharp twist in Rin’s chest and a weird flash of irritation.

“Huh. Never realized that. I always thought they were like The Red Emperor and Tearza.”

“I heard that’s how people from the South tell their folktales, but there’s no clear document that corroborates it in any of our books or archives.”

Nezha hums in agreement, and Chunhua beams with that pretty smile of hers and a perfect set of pearly whites.

For some reason, Rin can’t watch this. It makes her feel way too strange, like she’s intruding upon something, and it’s not something she even wants to see.

She stands up, gathers her things and shoves them in her bag hastily, and bolts out of the library, still feeling fucking unpleasant.

Her phone beeps with a message as she’s hurrying back to her and Kitay’s dorm.

Nezha: You okay?

Rin halts in her steps as she reads it, the weird knot in her chest loosening. 

What. The. Fuck?

She types out a quick response.

Rin: what

Nezha: You left early. The librarians usually have to kick your ass out before you leave. 

Rin: and how is that any of your business

Nezha: Nevermind. Sue me for trying to be concerned about you.

She’s about to type out a response, then remembers he probably wants to go back to working on their History paper, and clutches her phone so hard she thinks she could have cracked the screen.

The moment she gets to her dorm, Rin greets Kitay absentmindedly, plops onto their living room carpet across from him, and Googles her symptoms on her cheap, crappy, secondhand laptop. 

She looks up ‘abdominal pain’ first, and is met with a slew of possible illnesses ranging from indigestion to pregnancy, which almost makes her choke on her own spit. But this pain isn’t acute or persisting. So she crosses those possibilities out. Her searches of chest tightness and strange flashes of aggression yield no better results.

“Is everything okay?” Kitay asks suddenly. “You’re typing on your keyboard like you’re sending another strongly-worded complaint letter to Jiang.”

“I think I’m sick,” Rin says, and he straightens. “But I can’t seem to find anything that matches what I’m feeling completely.”

“And what are you feeling, exactly?”

“My chest gets tight, my stomach feels strange, and I get really irritated out of nowhere.”

Kitay raises an unimpressed brow.

“More irritated than usual,” she concedes, rolling her eyes. “But it doesn’t happen all the time. It feels… conditional? In the past few weeks.”

“Conditional how?” he drawls skeptically.

“It’s only happened a few times.”

“When was the most recent one?”

“At the library, just now. I was reviewing for Jima’s quiz, and it just happened? Nezha was there with his History partner too, they were still working on their paper—” Rin didn’t know why she added that specific detail in, but it was out of her mouth before she could really think the relevance through.

And it seems like telling Kitay that is a big mistake.

He leans back, arms folded across his chest, understanding dawning on his face. Of what, Rin doesn’t know. But she doesn’t like it.

“You’re jealous,” he concludes, clasping his fingers together and nodding solemnly.

What.

The.

Fuck.

“Fucking pardon ?” Rin splutters.

“You’re jealous,” Kitay insists, a knowing smile curling on his face that makes Rin want to light herself on fire. 

“I am not jealous. Why the fuck would I be jealous?”

“Oh, I don't know. Why would you be jealous?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Rin glares at him, crossing her arms stubbornly. 

“My best friend is growing up. Or growing a heart, like the Grinch. I’m so proud,” he proclaims dramatically, wiping an invisible tear from his eye before grinning like a lunatic.

“I am not fucking jealous. So what if Nezha’s partner is a pretty girl? I don’t care. Why would I fucking care?”

“I never said it was Nezha you were jealous of,” Kitay points out, and if Rin didn’t love him so much, she would have contemplated smacking the grin off his face.

“ Chen Kitay, if you don’t shut the fuck up— ”

“There’s nothing wrong with being jealous. I mean, we all saw it coming—”

“Excuse me?!”

“Come on, Rin. It’s alright,” Kitay says soothingly, teasing her by squeezing her shoulder in mock assurance. “Nezha’s a pretty guy, and he’s an absolute loser for you. It’s hard to resist, but try not to think about it too much.”

“You’re disgusting .”

Kitay shrugs, pushing himself up and going to the kitchen to get a snack. “You’ll get over your denial eventually. Do you want a soda?”

“Fuck off. Get me a Coke.”

Rin has never said this about Kitay before, because he’s never been wrong, but he is 100% wrong about this one.

She is not jealous.

Nezha can go jump off a cliff for all she cares. He can spend time with any girl he wants, can go on stupid dates, and hold hands and kiss them how much he wants—

The tightness in her chest comes back, this time, with a sharp pang of pain.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh fuck no .

~*~

After that incredibly helpful realization, Rin does what she does best when it comes to emotions: ignore the problem so she doesn’t have to confront it.

The new issue is, now that she’s aware of said problem, she notices it everywhere.

She’s not an idiot; Rin was aware that Nezha is a very attractive person from the get-go. Gratingly so, in fact, with his pristine complexion in the likeness of porcelain, his full, pink lips with the Cupid’s bow arc, and his lovely, almond eyes. Rin hates how good-looking he is, at times, and his self-awareness of it translates into an irritating smugness in the best of times.

So really, it should be a no-brainer that, like Rin, other people would notice Nezha’s looks and decide they are attracted to him, and if they’re feeling particularly bold, try to make a move.

But she guesses she never really realized what that entailed.

Strangers’ eyes trail him as he walks past, service workers treat him extra nicely, and most importantly, people try to flirt with him. Many people try to flirt with him. She can’t count the number of drunk girls she’s seen who’ve tried to cling to his arm as they stumbled through college parties.

Rin wonders if she bangs her head hard enough through a glass window, she’ll fuck her head up enough to forget this realization.

Gods, she’s not a teenage girl daydreaming about experiencing becoming a rom-com’s leading lady. She’s never even thought about romance or being in love or all that stupid bullshit because it’s not like those would be useful for her in the foreseeable future—it’d just end up being a distraction from her studies.

Damn Nezha. He never fails to ruin everything.

But what can she do, really? Physically fight every person who tries to lay their hands on him?

So she just decides to white-knuckle it the entire time, even if she thinks stabbing her own hand with a fork would be more enjoyable.

“What’s your order?” Nezha asks, kicking her leg from underneath the table.

Rin jolts, not realizing she’d been staring absentmindedly at the diner menu. Nezha had apparently been waiting for her outside the library while Kitay and Venka were holed up at her apartment finishing their own pair project for Jun’s class so she doesn’t walk home in the dark. Then he proceeded to complain that Rin took too damn long at the library and demanded they eat dinner before he starved to death, which made her want to smack him because it’s not like she fucking asked him to wait for her.

“Haven’t decided yet. You?” 

“What the fuck’s taking you so long?”

Before she can answer (see: insult him), the waitress assigned to their table approaches them and gives them a greeting. Rin spouts the first thing she sees on the menu as her order, which makes Nezha snort, earning him a glare.

“And what about you, Sir?” asks the waitress, turning to Nezha.

Rin doesn’t miss the way her hand lands on Nezha’s arm, a saccharine smile on her face. She leans closer, pretending to peek over the menu items he’s pointing to even though Rin knows she can hear his order perfectly fine.

God fucking damn it.

“Do your specials include the fries or do I have to order them separately?”

She has the urge to wrench the waitress’ hand away from Nezha’s arm, and wipe that stupid flirty simper off her face, since the fucking idiot doesn’t want to do it himself, still nodding along and smiling at her politely like she isn’t invading his personal space.

Fucking hell. She’s going insane.

After what seems like forever, the waitress finally leaves to put their orders in.

Rin sits and stews, scrolling on her phone and pointedly ignoring Kitay’s teasing texts about her ‘date’ with Nezha. She continues to do so when their food arrives and the waiter flashes Nezha another coy smile and contemplates smashing a plate at her head so she doesn’t have to endure this again.

Out of nowhere, he pushes the tray of fries toward her.

“What?”

“You always want fries. No, correction: you always steal my fries.” Nezha says, raising an eyebrow. “So there, have that.”

Once she gets over her brief surprise, she starts shoveling her food into her mouth, eager to just get home and pass out and forget this ever happened.

When they get the bill, however, Rin notices something scrawled behind it.

The waitress’ phone number. On their fucking receipt.

Nezha’s eyes barely gloss over the receipt—he never checks the price when he pays, one of the perks of being filthy fucking rich, Rin guesses, and she’s kind of thankful for that now.

So when he stands up and doesn’t take it like always, Rin does, rips it up into little pieces, and throws it in the trash can.

Yes, she’s aware she’s acting like an idiot. Yes, logically, Nezha didn’t even flirt back or even show the slightest amount of interest in the waitress. Funnily enough, he never does reciprocate, only with replying with terse and detached politeness that had been ingrained in him by his upbringing. 

(Or maybe he does, and it’s just a way of flirting Rin isn’t familiar with because Nezha has never been the most forthcoming or really, normal kind of person. But she doesn’t want to think about that possibility.)

But gods if throwing that number away didn’t make her feel better.

~*~

Rin, in her opinion, should win an award for her stellar acting in keeping her fucking cool around Nezha.

So she’s jealous. Fine. Fine. 

But he doesn’t have to know that. He’d never let her live that down.

And Rin thinks she’s doing a fantastic job convincing Nezha that absolutely nothing is wrong (save for that one incident where she almost punched him in the face again because she was texting Kitay about The Issue and he popped up behind her, but that’s really on him ), if she does say so herself. She’ll just wait until this dumb, irrational crush on him fades.

That’s what she keeps telling herself.

(Kitay keeps telling her she’s a tad bit delusional, but what the hell does he know?)

Rin ends up in the faculty lounge completely by coincidence. Jiang was being a pain in the ass again and had her running back and forth from his lecture room to do completely arbitrary tasks to screw with her.

Nezha and Chunhua walk in while she’s reorganizing Jiang’s documents alphabetically in reverse order, approaching Professor Yim who’s lounging at his desk, sipping his afternoon tea. Nezha hands him the pristine folder labeled neatly with their names—it must be their report; still early by a week, but longer than what Rin had expected for them.

Yim thumbs through the pages, skimming their work before giving them a nod of dismissal.

Rin turns away, praying she wasn’t caught watching them with a glare. 

She needs to pull it together.

“Thanks for the help, I think we did a good job,” she hears Nezha say just outside the faculty lounge.

“It was my pleasure. You’re so easy to work with,” Chunhua replies lightly.

Nezha lets out a short laugh. “I bet some people would disagree with you.”

Rin is definitely kicking him for that one.

She thinks that’s the end of the conversation when Nezha bids Chunhua goodbye, but Rin freezes when she hears her calling him back.

“Wait, Nezha, I was just wondering…” 

“Yes?”

Chunhua pauses, and Rin thinks she hears a shuddering breath. She sneaks a peek.

“Would you like to go out sometime?” Chunhua asks, her cheeks rosy pink, looking hopefully up at Nezha. “On a date?”

Fuck. Fuck.

Nezha’s eyebrows shoot up, clearly surprised.

“A date?”

A hum of assent. Rin doesn’t realize she’s crumpling the papers she’s organizing when her hands ball into fists.

Nezha is quiet for a moment, and dread rises inside Rin, threatening to suffocate her.

“Listen, Chunhua—” Nezha begins tentatively, voice quieter now, and she strains her ears to listen in. “You’re a great girl—”

“Runin, do you hate the first years so much you want to destroy their essays?”

God fucking damn it.

Rin has contemplated murder many times before—an alarming number of times, according to Kitay, but again, what does he know?—but never has she been so close to committing it than right this moment.

Jiang clicks his tongue, prying her hands off the papers. “Next time, try to keep my things out of your violent tendencies. It’s so ever inconvenient.”

“You’re not even paying me to do this shit!”

“Ah, but I do give you grades that raise your GPA, is that not the same thing?”

Rin grumbles obscenities under her breath, and only sees Nezha and Chunhua part ways.

Fuck.

If Rin printed a photo of Jiang and tossed darts at his face that night, much to Kitay’s confusion, could you really blame her?

~*~

“You’re avoiding me.” Nezha grits out, cornering her in the otherwise empty library.

Rin fixes her eyes on the top button of his shirt collar, mustering a scowl together.

“I’m not avoiding you,” she drawls. “Why are you so fucking full of yourself to think I would ever consider you important enough to avoid?

She is definitely avoiding him. Rin didn’t know what Nezha’s response was to Chunhua’s invitation, and really, she didn’t really want to find out at that point. If she never confirms it, then it’ll never be real, it’s that simple.

(Kitay may have had a point when he told her she was being delusional.)

Nezha scoffs, crossing his arms. She can almost imagine the expression on his face—perfectly shaped brows furrowed, lips down-turned in a disbelieving scowl, his almond eyes flashing with irritation.

“Bullshit. I saw you leave through the window from Jiang’s lecture when you saw me waiting by the door.”

“That was for an entirely different reason. The world doesn’t revolve around you, idiot.”

“Rin.”

She stands up, gathering her things and shoving them into her bag. “Leave me fucking alone, Nezha.”

“ Rin. ”

“I have my next class.”

“No, you fucking don’t, you don’t have afternoon classes on Wednesdays.”

“Oh, now you know my schedule better than me?” Rin snaps, even though he’s right, and how the fuck does he know that?

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Nezha demands.

“Nothing’s wrong. Move out of my way.” She tries to sidestep him briskly, but he moves in front of her again, blocking her path effectively.

“What the fuck is it? Did I do something? At least fucking tell me.”

“I don’t owe you anything, you prick, now move .”

She tries to move past him again, but this time, Nezha’s hands latch onto her shoulders, holding her in place. Her temper flares, trying to shrug it off, but his hands are firm in their hold.

“I’m going to start screaming,” Rin bites out.

“I’d really rather you don’t.”

“So let me go.”

“Not until you tell me what I did.”

“You didn’t do anything,” she spits, finally looking up to glare at him. 

His expression is strange—the frustration is there, yes, but it looks almost… pleading, too. Softer, in a way she’s never seen his anger before.

“Then why?”

Rin tightens her jaw, looking away.

“Just tell me.”

She counts to ten in her head, willing the entire situation away. Let this be a nightmare she’s going to wake up from any moment now.

“Please?”

Fucking hell .

“I’m fucking jealous,” she blurts out. “I’m jealous, alright?”

Silence.

Nezha looks stunned, recoiling from her—his cheeks take on a dark crimson shade, and his mouth is open, gaping at her.

“You—” he chokes out. “You’re jealous…”

“There, you asshole, are you happy?” she seethes. “Yes, I’m fucking jealous that other people keep flirting with you, and that your partner asked you on a date, and yes, I’m an idiot, I know I have no right to be, I know we’re not dating, we’re barely even fucking friends, we fight all the time, so I don’t even know how this fucking happened, and oh God, I just know you’re gonna gloat over this so just get on wi—”

She doesn’t get to finish her rant.

Nezha cups her face and presses his lips to hers.

Now, she’s thought this many, many times in the past month or so but:

What the FUCK.

Rin’s arms hook around Nezha’s neck, pulling him closer to her, desperate to feel his touch. He gladly obliges, his hand moving from her face to her waist, fingers brushing on the base of her spine, making her shiver. Her heartbeat is ringing in her ears, veins pumping with adrenaline because holy shit, Nezha is kissing her. Her. Voluntarily. 

When he pulls away, she almost lets out a whine in protest ( almost, because that would have been humiliating), but it turns into a gasp when he begins peppering her neck with kisses. He shivers at the sound, grip on her tightening.

“You are an idiot,” he murmurs against her skin, punctuating each word with a soft kiss on the length of her jaw. 

“What?” is the only thing she manages to reply, brain scrambled by the scent of his most-likely over-expensive perfume. He pulls away, his hand on her cheek, tilting her head to look up at him.

His hair is tousled, lips swollen, pupils blown out, turning the warm brown almost black.

Holy fuck.

“Did you honestly notice all those people flirting with me,” he asks breathlessly, gaze piercing through her, “but not me flirting with you ?”

“What?” she says again, the only word in her vocabulary while her mind hard reboots itself because really, what?

“You’re a bigger moron than I thought.”

“Watch yourself, asshole,” Rin manages to bite back. “Don’t you have a date?”

Nezha rolls his eyes, exasperated.

“I told Chunhua no, you fucking eavesdropper. I told her there was another girl I’ve liked for a while now.”

“Oh.”

Rin definitely needs to look something up on WebMD again because she’s dizzy at this point. The fact that Nezha admitted that without a gun to his head makes her feel as if something in the universe flipped on its axis.

“Yeah, oh. Hell, she guessed who it was right away, but told me she thought it was still worth a shot.”

Rin blinks. “She knew?”

“Yeah, she’s a smart girl. Unlike someone I know—”

“Oh, go fuck yourself, you conceited bastard—”

He leans in and kisses her again.

“Now I know how to shut you up,” Nezha says when he pulls away. 

She punches him in the arm.

~*~

“Wipe that smug smile off your fucking face, asshole,” Rin mutters with a glare, which, of course, only eggs the bastard on.

They’re watching a film in their dormitory, Rin sitting on Nezha’s lap with his arms wrapped around her waist and his chin resting on her shoulder. Kitay had entered at one point, took one look at them, muttered, “It took you two long enough,” and bolted back out the door before Rin could hurl a throw pillow at him.

“You were jealous,” he says in a singsong tone halfway through the movie.

“I will murder you and bury your body in the courtyard,” she hisses.

“Even if you do, that doesn’t change the fact that you were jealous.”

Rin pinches him in the arm, earning her a yelp and a glare from him.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“You like me,” Nezha drawls, pressing a kiss on the shell of her ear, and nuzzling his nose into her neck. “You like me so much you were jealous of other people flirting with me.”

“Please,” she retorts, giving Nezha a look. “Like you would be any better.”

Chapter 2: Nezha

Summary:

He was not, in fact, any better than Rin.

Notes:

This one's for Isola, I know you did amazing, and I'm already so proud of you, and I will be proud of you no matter what happens. I hope you love this just as much as I love you, bff. Mwah.

Anyways. Who the fuck put this insecurity angst in my silly little romcom fic. Whoops. Sorry.

Y'all know the drill, no beta, if there are any mistakes... yeah. You guys have been on this rodeo with me for a while now.

Enjoy!

Nezha prides himself on being a rational, logical person. 

He had to be, in the environment he’d grown up in. He did not have the luxury to let his emotions get the better of him—he’d been trained to think things through, weigh their pros and cons, assess the impact on himself and others—and most importantly, how it would affect how people perceived him and reflect on his family.

He’s mastered the art of curating his emotions, pushing them to the back of his mind whenever he needed to. 

Except when it comes to Rin.

Somehow, she’s always managed to get that side of him to rear its head—he despised her with a passion in their first year of university until it mellowed out to an occasional irritation and a reluctant fondness. Then, it became overwhelming affection—he’d somehow fallen on that slippery slope and plummeted straight into loving her.

Really, that day in the library wasn’t planned at all. Nezha just saw Rin rattling off about how she was jealous of people he’d barely given a thought about, clearly upset, and his heart began to race as he desperately tried to make sense of the whole situation. Then his brain decided to stop functioning and went: “You know what would solve this little misunderstanding? Kissing her.”

And so he did.

Nezha considers it one of the best decisions he’s made to date.

And he, for the most part, is still quite logical. At the very least, his first course of action when he encounters an issue isn’t “Punch their lights out,” like his girlfriend— girlfriend, he thinks with a stupid grin—always proposes.

It always really comes down to just her.

Which is where the problem began.

Rin has been working as a barista at a cafe near campus since their second year of university—it was a nice little place, if a bit run-of-the-mill, with the classic wooden furnishings, dark-colored sofas, and the typical corny “Don’t talk to me until I’ve had my coffee,” murals all over the walls, but it was quiet, and if there was a particularly rowdy group of customers, Rin had no issue telling them to shut up for everyone else’s peace of mind.

(Truly, his girlfriend—will he ever get tired of saying that?—has stellar social skills. It’s a wonder she hasn’t been fired; she said her manager has said so to her face, but that her work ethic makes up for it, which Nezha can’t argue with.)

With their new schedules for the semester, they had a little more free time, so Rin took a couple more shifts for extra pay; she’d been saving up to buy a new laptop just in case her old, secondhand one finally kicks the bucket, even though he’d offered to buy one for her—which she responded to with, “Try that shit on me and I’ll bite your finger off.”

Nezha sometimes likes to go there during her shifts, either alone, or with Venka and Kitay, if their schedules permit, and mess around with her. Her manager has given up scolding her for giving him the finger one too many times, and Nezha waved him off saying he’s fine with it.

Other times, he just likes watching her work, especially if it’s a slow day and she’s just doing little things like wiping down the counter or refilling the pastry display. She’d look up at him and roll her eyes with an amused smirk, and those moments make his entire day.

So, he expected something in that vein when he walked into that cafe that Tuesday afternoon.

Instead, he’s greeted by the sight of Rin and another person behind the counter.

“Welcome to Bake and Brew!” the other guy says with a sunny smile, and Rin coughs into her hand.

“Fuck, that was good, you sound like you’re actually happy to be here,” she chokes out with a grin. The guy’s sunny smile transforms into a casual, more natural one, and grins back at her.

“Fake it ‘til you make it, right?”

“The manager’s gonna fucking love you.”

Something twinges in the bottom of Nezha’s stomach, his smile at seeing Rin faltering a little.

Then Rin spots Nezha and jerks her head to the side, a signal for him to order.

“New guy?” he immediately asks when he’s in front of her, and she raises an eyebrow.

“No ‘hello’?” she quips. “Yeah, the manager decided we needed more hands. Someone ‘personable’, whatever the fuck that means.”

“What?  How can he say that when he has your sparkling personality? I’m surprised he didn’t promote you,” Nezha replies, and Rin flips him off, making him grin. Whatever tightness in his stomach dissipates. 

“I’m training him for the time being, since I’m the longest that worked here.”

“You, having authority over someone? That sounds like a fucking disaster.”

“Don’t start with me, jackass,” Rin grumbles, grabbing the tongs and putting the largest scones of the batch on a tiny saucer for him, like his usual order.

“What are you doing? I haven’t even ordered yet,” he drawls, and she glares daggers at him.

“I’m going to smash this plate over your head, don’t try me,” she snaps.

Before Nezha can answer, someone lets out a low whistle.

“Yeesh, I see what the boss meant now. Very charming of you,” the new guy cuts in, and Rin rolls her eyes.

“Aren’t you supposed to be clearing down the tables, Tao?”

“All done, Miss. You would know that if you didn’t spend your entire time threatening one of our lovely customers.”

Rin rolls her eyes at that.

“Lovely, my ass. Make yourself useful and make me a caramel frappe with almond milk and two pumps of hazelnut.”

“Harsh,” he replies, a hand flying over his chest. “Didn’t the boss tell you to treat the beginner gently?”

“This is fucking gentle.”

“You scare me, Rin. You scare me.”

There it is again, that unpleasant squeezing in his stomach, and this time, it’s accompanied by his chest tightening, as he watches the two trade light-hearted barbs with ease. Didn’t Rin just meet him—Tao, she said his name was—so how the hell were they already this comfortable with each other? Things had never been this simple with Rin for him from the start—and sure, that was partly his fault, but to be fair, Rin never got along with anybody this quickly. What’s with this Tao guy?

His stomach knots and he starts to feel just a tad bit panicked.

Nezha thinks he knows what this feeling is, but no. He’s being ridiculous. 

“Hey,” Rin snaps her fingers in front of him. “Your order.”

Nezha jolts like he’s been shocked—he didn’t realize he wasn’t paying attention anymore.

“Right. Right.” 

Rin’s face scrunches, but before she could ask him what was wrong, he hurriedly covers it up with, “Are you sure you didn’t spit in this?”

Her face drops into a scowl.

“Keep testing me and it’ll be dishwashing liquid.”

She pushes the plate of scones and his drink into his hands, and he gives her a slightly forced smile.

Nezha eats his scones, and instead of studying like he intended to, watches Rin and Tao as she stands behind him on the counter, leaning in close to show him how to operate it, and Tao says something that makes her shove him with a light-hearted grimace.

Somehow, all this food tastes a little staler in his mouth than usual.

~*~

Maybe the powers that be saw Nezha’s teasing about Rin’s jealousy one too many times and went, “Let’s teach this smug bastard a lesson.”

Because that could be the only reason why he’s feeling this way.

He doesn’t come back to the cafe for a few days—luckily, Irjah dumped them with a horrifically heavy paper that gives him an excuse not to drop by. Even Kitay was challenged by it, which, really, spelled a long week for the rest of them. Rin ended up sleeping at his dorm more days than not to use his desktop while he whiled away on his laptop, which was the only bonus of it all—waking up with her in his arms, hair splayed on his pillow, leaving her lingering scent of cinnamon and roasted coffee on his sheets, her expression more peaceful than she’d ever allow it to be when she was awake, it was a sight he wanted to drink in forever. Then he would press his lips on her eyelids to wake her up, and she would swat his face away. He’d tease her about drooling and get hit by a pillow before she gets ready for her next class.

(Was it too soon to ask her to move in with him?

Yes, yes, it is, you absolute fucking weirdo. )

Those days were enough to push the weird, unsettled feeling he gets whenever she tells him she’s working a shift.

But of course, his luck never lasts.

“Rin!” a voice calls across the University field where they’d settled under the shade of a tree, with his head in her lap as she reads something on her phone, probably waiting for Kitay and Venka to reply in their group chat. She startles, dropping her phone, and Nezha raises his head a little to see who it is.

There’s a sinking feeling in his chest. Just a little.

“Tao?” Rin asks, surprised. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I go to school here, boss,” Tao responds, nodding at Nezha in acknowledgment. He manages a weak nod in response.

“I know that, jackass. But aren’t you supposed to cover for someone today?”

“They canceled. Said whatever issue they had was fixed. Manager doesn’t need you to come in today, too,” Tao shrugs.

“You couldn’t have texted me that?”

“I was supposed to, but I thought I recognized that scowl from a kilometer away,” he replies nonchalantly.

“Nezha, get the fuck off of me, I need to rip this fucker’s hair—” Rin starts to say, but Tao jumps back with his arms raised, snickering. Nezha, in response, turns and wraps his arms around her waist, burying his face in her stomach. Rin groans, tugging a lock of his hair before grunting.

“Alright, alright, don’t kill me. I’ll leave you and your little boyfriend alone. I’ll see you tomorrow at the cafe?”

Boyfriend. Other than Kitay and Venka, no one else has called Nezha Rin’s boyfriend, mostly referring to Rin as Nezha’s girlfriend (which she resents and complains about to no end, and fair enough) and he despises how good it felt to hear that from someone else’s mouth, even if it is Tao. 

But their easygoing banter still sets him on edge—they’ve been working together for only a month now, and yet Rin allows Tao to tease her like they’ve been friends for years. It took Nezha so long to build that kind of trust with her, and he can’t help but feel a little bitter about it. 

“If you’re late, I’m snitching just for this,” Rin snaps.

“Absolutely heartless of you, but I’m not surprised. Ba-bye,” Tao says, waving a hand as he jogs away.

“Dumbass,” she mutters, shifting her position. “Now, what was that for?” 

Her hand strokes his hair, and Nezha lets loose a content sigh. The tension in his shoulders from Tao’s presence hasn’t quite dissipated, but it relaxes ever so slightly.

“Can’t I hug my girlfriend?” Nezha says, voice muffled by her shirt. He tightens his arms around her, nose brushing against the cloth over her stomach, and Rin snorts.

“Fucking weirdo.”

At this moment, he can’t quite dispute that claim. He is acting like a weirdo. But God, if it didn’t feel good to rub it in someone’s face that he’s her boyfriend.

~*~

He’s being held hostage.

And by held hostage, he just means Venka threatened to put red hair dye in his shampoo if he didn’t stop acting like a pathetic little idiot and avoiding the cafe. Venka really likes their coffee—she says, and Nezha quotes, “It’s not that other watered-down shit like all the other cafes. If it doesn’t make you palpitate to hell and back, is it really good fucking coffee?”

But of course, they just had to visit while Rin and Tao were working at the counter.  

“You’re staring.”

“I’m not staring.”

“You’re pathetic,” Venka repeats, rolling her eyes as she takes a big gulp from her venti coffee. Kitay eyes her apprehensively, like he’s trying to comprehend how it’s possible to consume that many espresso shots without having a heart attack.

Nezha doesn’t reply, eyes glued on Rin still preparing coffee. His fist clenches when Tao reaches past her for something and mutters something under his breath. Whatever it was, it makes Rin let out a startled laugh before shoving him away. 

Oh.

Oh.

Okay, so he made her laugh. That’s fine. That’s absolutely fucking peachy. Why would Nezha care if Rin laughs at Tao’s jokes? 

He didn’t. He didn’t care. 

She has the right to laugh at another guy’s jokes—even though it took him at least three months before he got her to even crack a smile at one of his when they first made up. She deliberately held her laughter back out of petty spite, but she’s not doing it now, and Nezha can’t help but feel it bruise his ego a little.

“What did the scone ever do to you?” Kitay sighs, and Nezha blinks, looking down at the crumbs on his plate, the remnants of his crushed pastry.

His face grows hot, and he doesn’t miss the knowing stares Kitay and Venka exchange as he brushes off the mess from his hands and lap.

“You know, Rin acted the exact same way when she was jealous of Chunhua,” Kitay drawls, giving him a pointed look.

“I’m not jealous. Why would I be jealous? I’m her boyfriend, Tao is just a co-worker, she said so herself,” Nezha says, but even he can tell he sounds unnecessarily defensive.

Dumbass, he can hear Rin’s voice say.

“Exactly, you shouldn’t be jealous. But you are,” Venka says flatly, and Nezha directs a weak glare at her.

“You know, you could talk to her about it,” Kitay suggests.

“Please. She’s never going to let me live it down.”

“Like you let her live down her own jealousy thing?” Venka asks incredulously. 

“ Exactly. ”

“She won’t, she’ll probably laugh at you, to be honest. But it’s still worth letting her know to clear the air. She could reassure you. Or you know, just kiss you senseless,” Kitay alludes, and Nezha tries to kick him under the table. 

When they realize he’s not going to budge, Venka rolls her eyes and Kitay sighs again, turning his attention back to his own croissant and coffee, leaving Nezha to stew.

He’s just overreacting—the sudden friendship caught him off-guard, but Tao and Rin are doing absolutely nothing wrong. They were just doing what most friends do, and Nezha hates to admit it, but Tao is a nice guy, if a little too enthusiastic for his liking.

It’s nothing. It’s nothing.  

(But is it really, his stupid brain still thinks.)

~*~

It’s rare that they have a day all to themselves. 

They spend a lot of time together, but with Rin’s part-time job, Nezha’s little stints at his father’s company, and their workload, they usually have things on their plate to complete. He loves every second he spends with her, but sometimes he doesn't get to enjoy them to the fullest with all rthe deadlines hanging over their heads. 

But today, today they’re completely and utterly free.

And that means Nezha can unashamedly cling to Rin like a bur.

“I’m hungry,” she complains after he spends an hour just cuddling her in bed, his face buried in her hair.

“You’ll live if you don’t eat in the next five minutes.”

“You fucking suck.”

Nezha hums, only holding her flush against his chest. He starts peppering her face with kisses, and she scrunches her nose cutely as she pretends that it doesn’t tickle her (but it does, he can tell). He doesn’t know how it happened, but his restraint must have already been frayed, especially with all the recent—no, he’s not going to think about that right now. His kisses travel down the cut of her jaw, to her neck, and Rin doesn’t stop him. No, she leans back and sighs, giving him a lazy smile that lights a fire deep in his gut.

“Tell me to stop, okay?”

Rin nods, and he continues to kiss her, turning from playful to soft and slow. Rin turns in his arms to face him and hooks a leg around his, cupping his face and bringing his lips to hers. She parts his mouth with hers and—

Fuck. Oh fuck.

Okay, they’re doing this. They’re actually doing this. He needs to calm down and get it together. But he couldn’t help a quiet groan from escaping him.

She grins against his lips— she did that on purpose.

“You little—” he begins, panting, but she shuts him up with another kiss.

What goes around comes around, he supposes, like that day in the library, but no way in the seven circles of Hesperian hell is he complaining.

“ Shit, Rin—” he mutters, fingers digging into her side as her lips travel down the length of his throat, teeth grazing his skin that sends shivers all over his body. Her hands trail down his chest lightly, and Nezha’s heart is pounding in his ears, every inch of contact of their skin sending electric shocks over his body. He feels his self-control slipping with every warm breath ghosting from her lips. 

Then her phone rings.

What.

The.

Fuck.

Rin immediately freezes, tightening her grip on his arms like she wants to ball her hands into fists and start throwing punches. She clenches her teeth, a muscle in her jaw feathering. She grabs her phone and answers.

“ What?” Rin snaps into the receiver, sitting up. “What the fuck do you want? ”

“Who is it?” Nezha questions, resting his chin on her shoulder in an embrace.

“Tao, it’s my day off,” she grits out, and Nezha’s good, if a little dazed, mood nosedives. He stiffens and straightens, removing his arms around Rin, and she gives him a confused look, but he doesn’t care, irritation consuming him hard and fast.

Of course it’s fucking Tao, because why the fuck wouldn’t it be? Nezha raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms with a scowl. Rin sighs, exasperated. She puts the phone on speaker.

“Listen, Rin, I know, but Jia bailed on me last minute. She didn’t even call or anything, I’m scrambling,” Tao’s voice blares, and Rin’s frown deepens. He really does sound stressed, and Nezha can hear the chatter of a busy cafe in the background. “ I’m really, really, really sorry, I swear I called everyone before you, trust me, but—”

“Fuck, alright, alright, calm down. Give me twenty minutes,” Rin sighs, running a hand through her already mussed hair. Aggravation strikes Nezha, and he doesn’t make an effort to hide it anymore, scoffing at the phone. Rin hangs up, rubbing her hands over her face roughly.

“ Really? Now?” he can’t help but ask, a little forcefully.

“I’m sorry,” Rin says, sounding so frustrated that all his dismay melts away for a moment, replaced by the need to comfort her. Instead, he leans forward and kisses away the crease off her brow.

“I know. I know. But that doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it.”

“It’s only until three. I’ll be back soon. I wouldn’t go at all if—” Rin cuts herself off, grunting in frustration and running her hands through her hair.

But Nezha catches the gist of it. If it weren’t Tao who asked.

Rin is fiercely loyal and stubborn for the people she considers friends, he knows, and it’s one of the things he adores about her. But it’s really fucking inconvenient right now.

“If I ask you to stay, would you?” he asks quietly, and Rin pauses, grimacing.

“Nezha—”

That hurts more than he thought it would. But he shakes his head, waving her off. 

“It’s fine. Just a joke. Go ahead.”

“I’m sorry.”

“They better pay you overtime for this one,” Nezha says weakly, and Rin glares at her phone.

“Someone will end up dead if they don’t.”

He somehow musters up the will to smile despite his disappointment. 

“I’d expect nothing less.”

Nezha kisses Rin a little longer, sighing into her mouth. She squeezes his shoulders before letting go, leaving the room to change. For what it’s worth, she looks just as angry at being interrupted as he is, if not more. 

He knows he’s being unfair. It really did sound busy, but he couldn’t help but feel the resentment linger.

When Rin gets home that afternoon, she was exhausted to the bone, and ends up knocked out in Nezha’s arms within ten minutes of washing up, so that’s the day gone then.

He shouldn’t be upset—Rin always makes concessions for him whenever his father calls for him abruptly for whatever company matters he needed to attend to. She just rolls her eyes, calls his father an asshole (he’s given up telling her to stop, Rin will say what she wants to say), and waits up for him when she can. 

But somehow, this one really stings. 

But what right does he have to get mad at her for this?

He should just be thankful for what he’s given.

~*~

He should be used to it by now, really. But the sight still bugs him, now more than ever, as he’s waiting for Rin’s shift to end so he can drive her to her apartment, since it’s getting dark outside.

Tao leans in and whispers something in Rin’s ear, and Nezha looks away, suppressing another scowl.

Things have been tense for the last two days. 

It’s petty, but he hasn’t felt quite right since that day she took that emergency shift at the cafe. 

He knows he should probably talk to her about this—they’ve fought plenty of times before, but in all those instances, he thought he was in the right. This, he’s sure he’s being unreasonable. But he can’t fucking help it.

Rin looks at him a little warily, uncharacteristically quiet on the way home. When he walks her to the door, he doesn’t say much, only pecking her on the lips and telling her goodnight before returning to his car.

He regrets it afterward, as he’s driving home, seeing how hurt she looked.

Nezha knows he doesn’t own Rin and he doesn’t want to. 

But he wants to be the one she smiles at, he wants his jokes to be the one that elicits that kind of laugh. He wants to be the one she tells everything to, who she trusts and lets her walls down. He wants some of her parts to be all for himself, and Gods, he knows that's selfish and wrong, but he can't help it.

He knows they mean nothing, the shared exasperated looks whenever a customer is acting like an ass, the little quips they throw at each other during rush hour, the covering for each other whenever they’re needed, it’s workplace etiquette and friendship.

(Should he apply—no, his father would never allow it.)

Gods, what is wrong with him? 

Rin said yes to him. Not Tao, but him.

At least, for now.

But it’s not Tao that’s the issue, is it? Not really. It could have been any other person, not even Tao—he’s just a nice guy who managed to somehow get in Rin’s good graces, who she bonded with at a crappy part-time job. 

What happens if Rin decides she’s tired of him? If she wants someone nicer to date? One who she didn’t hate from the get-go because he was being a prick? One whose family she doesn’t hate because they don’t sneer and condescend to her every chance they get? One who doesn’t bicker and frustrate her to her temper’s limit for the fun of it? One who won’t get jealous over stupid, petty shit and takes it out on her like him? 

What if one day he’s not enough?

What if one day he loses her?

~*~

Nezha thinks he can handle a lot—it takes a while for him to reach his limit, unlike Rin, with her fiery temper that’s a breeze to ignite—he can be easily irritated at times, and harbor a bit of a grudge, but that’s about it.

But his last straw is swinging by the cafe to surprise her when he said he was going to be busy and seeing his girlfriend accept a gorgeous bouquet from her fucking coworker of all people.

Hell, she didn’t even accept flowers from him. She called them impractical and expensive for no fucking reason, and she’d rather get something practical from him—and cheap, she emphasized.

He thought he was being unreasonable, and maybe he still is, projecting his insecurities onto Tao, but now, now he has a fucking reason to hate him.

Nezha turns on his heel and drives back to his apartment fuming, ignoring the heat prickling in his eyes.

There’s no way in fucking hell he’s going to let this slide.

When he hears the door creak open a couple of hours later, Nezha immediately stands up, and then stiffens when he sees her arms wrapped around the flowers.

He opens his mouth to give her a piece of his mind, for having the fucking audacity to bring the bouquet home knowing he’d see it.

Until she approaches him and holds it out for him.

“These are for you,” she says through a clenched jaw, clearly embarrassed.

That makes him freeze.

“For… me? ” Nezha asks dumbly, staring at the proffered bouquet.

“Yeah,” Rin says in a pained, strangled voice, a deep flush painting her cheeks. “For flaking on you on my day off. I’m sorry.”

“But I thought…” he mutters, voice trailing off.

She… bought him flowers?

Rin frowns.

“You thought what?”

Fuck.

He was stupid. He was so fucking stupid. 

Nezha completely deflates, burying his face in his hands, and sinking into his seat. The tightness in his chest is back with a vengeance, but it’s different now—it feels fuller, swelling until it was fit to burst.

Dear God, he’s been a fucking mess, and now it’s only going to get worse.

Pull yourself together, idiot.

“Why?” he asks quietly, now staring at the flowers, a burst of reds and blues, two of his favorite colors—a mix of roses and tulips and a few white baby’s breath flowers littered among them. She hands them to him gingerly, still looking more than a little awkward. He cradles them gently, smelling their sweet fragrance.

“As an apology. And I may not like flowers but… I know you do.” Rin shrugs, and those words are enough to put a lump in his throat. Fuck. “Tao helped me pick them out since I didn’t have a fucking clue what to do. He’s bought a lot for his boyfriend, and he used to work at a flower shop before the cafe, so he knew what to choose.” 

“He has a boyfriend?” he repeats.

Tao has a boyfriend.

Oh.

Oh, he really is a fucking moron, isn’t he?

“Yes…” Rin says slowly, eyeing him carefully. “Are you okay? You look like you’re going to faint. Don’t tell me you’re allergic to pollen of all fucking things, I don’t wanna drive you to the hospital right now.”

She makes a move to grab the bouquet from him, but he only holds it tighter to his chest, which only makes her look more concerned.

To be fair, she isn’t that far off. Nezha’s getting a little dizzy, still reeling from all the revelations.

He tries to sort his thoughts:

1. His girlfriend did not receive a bouquet from the co-worker he’d been worried about.
2. Said co-worker has a fucking boyfriend.
3. His girlfriend bought the flowers for him, as an apology, and because she knew he liked them, which is why he was so disappointed when she told him not to buy her any.
4. He’s one of the biggest fucking idiots on the planet.

Emphasis on number four. 

“Nezha? Are you good?” Rin asks, softer now, sitting next to him, cupping his chin and guiding his face to look at her. The look on her face, pinched with worry, thumb brushing over his cheek gently…

It’s official: he’s overwhelmed. 

Logical and rational person? Flew out the window. Someone who can handle a lot? Who the fuck is he fooling? No one.

Nezha sets the flowers down beside him and engulfs Rin in the tightest hug he can muster. He buries his face in the crook of her neck. She tentatively wraps his arms around him, rubbing soothing circles on his back that does the exact opposite of its intended effect. 

His entire life, no one had ever chosen him—he learned to be okay with that. He wasn’t Jinzha, the eldest, the best, and the heir, he wasn’t Mingzha, who lit up whatever room he walked into with a sunny smile and heart of gold, he wasn’t Muzha, their prized only daughter. He was just Nezha, the spare, the one people’s eyes gloss over to look at his more accomplished, more interesting siblings. He’s spent so long being just that. Being overlooked. Being unwanted. Being the leftover. He couldn’t have imagined it any other way.

But Rin does. Rin looks at him, Rin sees him. Rin wants him.

Rin chooses him.

This time, when he feels them forming in his eyes, he doesn’t hold the tears back.

“I love you,” Nezha says quietly, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Rin replies, tone tinged with confusion. “But they’re just flowers. They’re not a big deal.”

He shakes his head. 

“Yes, they are. They are.”

Nezha doesn’t let go—he’s not quite ready yet. But Rin obliges him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

He loves her. He didn’t know it was possible to love someone this hard, but this is proof that it is. Nezha can’t imagine ever wanting anyone else.

Eventually, he gathers the composure to pull away, discreetly wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. He pulls the bouquet back onto his lap.

“Is there a reason you picked these flowers?” Nezha asks in an attempt at lightheartedness, and Rin snorts.

“Tulips are apology flowers, or so Tao says. You know what roses mean,” she says quickly, and Nezha couldn’t stop the grin from forming on his face. Rin gives him a warning look that he ignores.

“And what about these little white ones?”

“And baby’s breath means…” Rin winces in embarrassment, mumbling, “...everlasting love. I’m going to fucking kill him for making me say that out loud.”

“Thank you,” he tells her, leaning in for a kiss.

“So am I off the hook now, or–?” she teases, and Nezha scowls at her before sighing.

“You were never on the hook. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But you still got mad,” Rin points out. Nezha wraps an arm around her shoulder and pulls her close. “You should put those in water.”

“Later. And I wasn’t mad. Upset, maybe, but not mad. That’s you. You’re always mad.”

Rin pinches him, and he recoils with a glare, before pulling her back even closer than before.

Silence for a few moments, and then, like always, his fucking brain decides to stop functioning like it always does around her and—

“I feel like an idiot for being jealous now,” he says absentmindedly, before sucking in a breath when he realizes. Shit.

“You were jealous ?” Rin asks incredulously, until a smug smile creeps up her lips that makes dread coil in his stomach.

“Oh fuck, ” Nezha mutters, closing his eyes in frustration.

“You were fucking jealous.”

She sounds absolutely gleeful, so vindicated, that he knows he will hear of this until he's on his fucking deathbed. Rin will absolutely hold this over his head.

“Don’t do this right now.”

“I fucking knew it. I knew you were acting weird as hell, I fucking called it—”

“Yeah, yeah, so fucking what—”

Rin lets out a delighted cackle, and Nezha’s ears start to feel hot. 

“I knew it, I knew you were even worse than I am, you little fuck, and you gave me all that shit for being jealous when you—”

Nezha cuts her off by grabbing her face and kissing her—which she gladly reciprocates.

It’s quickly become his favorite way of interrupting her; a way to honor tradition, if you will.

He will never get tired of doing it again and again.

Notes:

Please take note that I finished writing this chapter at 2 am with a fever and an exam in the morning. Clearly, I have my priorities straight. Sorry for the late update, and for any mistakes, grammar or otherwise, or if this isn't up to par with my usual work. College really is out for my blood.

Thank you for reading! If you liked this, you could leave me a kudos or a comment if you want. I have an abundance (honestly, the fact that this isn't an exaggeration is concerning for my mental health) of other TPW fics, you can check them out if you'd like. Stay lovely, see you in my next fic!

Notes:

Will I ever get tired of writing these two? Who knows. Definitely went for a bit of a rom-com vibe for this one, because these dumbasses are both emotionally stunted.

My second semester of college is starting next week, so if I disappear off the face of AO3 for the next five months, do not be alarmed, it's because of that. I'm (probably) not dead.

Sorry if this is not the usual quality you're used to from me, I'm white-knuckling through my burnout. If you like this, a kudos and/or a comment would be much appreciated! They keep me going. You can read my other TPW fics if you want to, as well.

Stay lovely, see you on my next fic (hopefully soon, if college doesn't kill me)!