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It’s the same situation as last time.
Another date, another man, another fancy restaurant, and Renjun, who calls Chenle at the end of it all.
This time, he just mutters the location, and Chenle is already in his car, speeding down the highway.
When Renjun crawls into Chenle’s passenger seat, it’s with rounded shoulders and his head down. His hair is damp from the snow, and his scarf barely covers his red nose and cheeks. He buckles his seat belt, and Chenle drives off.
The first half of the ride is in complete silence. Chenle hadn’t bothered to turn on any music when he first left—he was in too much of a rush, and Renjun didn’t reach for the aux like he always used to. Instead, Chenle sneaks glances at Renjun every spare moment he can.
It’s clear the date tonight meant something—what it meant, Chenle has no clue—with Renjun wearing his nicest coat, and holding a small handbag that he knows is expensive. At a closer glance, Chenle can see a small wing drawn on each eye and light glitter dotting his face. His pants are fitted, leaving nothing and everything to the imagination at once.
He looks good, Chenle can admit.
The thought leaves him uneasy, but he brushes it off. It’s nothing new; how well Renjun cleans up, how much he tries when he wants to be liked. Chenle still isn’t used to it. He doesn’t think he ever will be.
Donghyuck once brought it up to him.
“He looks nice like this, huh?” He threw a smirk at Chenle. The expression set off alarm bells in his mind, but he paid them no mind. Instead, his focus was across the room.
Renjun had spent the past hour getting ready for a date, forcing his friends to sit and judge every look.
“I mean, yeah, isn’t that the point?” Chenle grabbed a throw pillow to clutch against his chest. He opened his mouth to say another word, but stopped himself at the last moment.
Donghyuck snuck his hand around Chenle’s body to pinch his side. “You know it’s more than that.”
Chenle let out an embarrassing squeak before trying to bury himself further into the couch, staunchly avoiding Donghyuck’s eyes.
“He always looks nice.” Chenle could feel the heat crawling up his cheeks as he muttered it, and kicked Donghyuck in turn.
“Ow!” Then: “Wait, so you admit it?”
“I’m not fucking blind, okay? I literally grew up watching guys fawn over him.”
Donghyuck looked like he was on the verge of squealing like a schoolgirl, but a brief glance across the room stopped him. He settled for wiggling his eyebrows at Chenle, instead.
“Don’t be weird,” Chenle hissed.
“I didn’t say anything,” Donghyuck sing-songed, throwing his hands up in surrender.
When Chenle parks the car, Renjun doesn’t budge.
It takes him getting out, walking around to the other side, and knocking on the window for any response.
Renjun looks up at him with glassy eyes, and Chenle’s heart stings. He brushes it aside to open the car door.
“Let’s go up.”
Entering Renjun’s apartment is like entering a second home.
Chenle toes off his shoes and hesitates before holding out a hand for Renjun’s bag.
Renjun hands it over without a second thought.
Hanging up the bag, he rushes to the kitchen, grabbing the kettle to get started on tea.
While fiddling with the settings, Chenle hears Renjun plop down on the chair.
“Did you eat?” He asks, the question resonating through the quiet. When Chenle looks up, Renjun shakes his head. It’s barely noticeable, but Chenle has long grown used to even his smallest movements.
At the gesture, he heads over to the fridge.
“Can you make the rice?”
Renjun gets up, and the two fall into a familiar rhythm. Chenle leads, guiding Renjun through the recipe, and Renjun follows, stepping side to side, one task to the next. They don’t talk outside of cooking. The kitchen is silent except for small directions, the sound of knives against cutting boards and food being fried.
When they’re done, Chenle directs Renjun to plate the stir-fry while Chenle gets the rice. He places the larger portion in front of Renjun. They eat in silence.
Renjun’s whole body is tense while he eats. He starts off eating slowly, then faster and faster as he takes more bites. He keeps his eyes down low, avoiding Chenle’s gaze the whole time. There’s an air of pressure around him, like a barrier that keeps Chenle from knowing what’s going through his mind.
After Renjun finishes eating, Chenle sets down his half-empty bowl.
“Renjun—”
“Stop acting like you care.”
It pierces through him, and he has to drop his chopsticks before he breaks them.
“...What?” Chenle sputters, his mouth moving around words that aren’t there. Renjun keeps refusing to meet his eyes. His head is held low enough that his hair just barely covers them.
“I—” he starts, then stops, brain going miles a minute without a single thought landing. “I do care, I’ll always care.”
Renjun huffs out a breath. It’s barely audible, but Chenle picks it up anyway.
After a beat, Chenle tries:
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
He hears more than sees the tears falling.
“Renjun!” Chenle stands up with a start, knocking over his chair in the process. It falls with a crack on the floor, but he pays it no mind.
Renjun’s shaking now, hands coming up to his face, covering his eyes as he sobs. Not a single sound leaves his mouth.
(He was always a quiet crier. Even as kids, Renjun’s entire body would shake violently, but not a single sound would slip from his mouth.
They captured a ladybug once, this tiny little thing that was dwarfed even in their small, chubby kid hands. Renjun named her Little Star, Xingxing, because the dots on her right wing were placed in the shape of a star.
Chenle does not remember Xingxing’s short life, but he does remember watching Renjun bury her ziplock bag habitat with her lifeless body inside. He remembers the intense shaking of Renjun’s body, how much his hands trembled while they were trying to dig through the dirt. Their hole was so shallow, Renjun’s hands were shaking too much. He was the taller one back then, yet he had never looked smaller.)
Chenle stands there frozen.
For the first time in his life, he doesn’t know what to do when Renjun is crying.
Renjun doesn’t cry often, especially not around him. This is something Chenle knows is true with the sheer number of times he’s found Renjun crying alone. Back then, it was easier to run to his Gege and try to help. This time, it’s not so simple. This time, it feels like it’s his fault.
“You need to stop doing that.”
Chenle looked up when he heard his voice, and in an instant, Renjun’s plucked the cigarette out of Chenle’s mouth and stamped it into the ground of the alleyway.
“You don’t have to worry about me,” Chenle snipped back with barely concealed venom. A part of him felt guilty, but he tramped down on it as fast as it came.
“Yah,” Renjun stepped closer. “Listen to your ge, okay?”
And it stung to hear. The same word Renjun used every damn time to fuck with him. I’m older. I’m your ge. Listen to everything I say. Stay wrapped around my little finger. It pissed him off more than anything else in the world, yet Chenle obeyed him every single time.
This time, it hurt a little more.
Renjun showed up that night with another guy all over him. Yoonhyung or Younghee, or something. He was tall and broad, and completely enamoured with Renjun. Exactly his type.
Why should Chenle stay attached to his side as a second choice for the rest of his life? Even with a new boy to mess around with, Chenle would always be the one to fall back on, the one to pick him up and cook him dinner and talk to his family. He was sick of it: of falling victim to the same tricks every time.
“Go mess around with Youngjoon or whatever his name is.” Chenle reached into his pocket for another cigarette, but Renjun slapped the pack out of his hand. When Chenle looked up, Renjun’s face could be described as nothing short of furious.
“His name is Younghoon, you know this,” Renjun started, voice low. He was close enough that Chenle could feel his cold breath against his skin. “And you’re gonna kill yourself with these fucking sticks.” He spat out the word with so much venom, it sent a chill down Chenle’s spine. He tried not to let it show.
“Since when have you cared? You’re too busy with your revolving door of men. Go focus on them instead.” He pauses, then: “And I don’t have to remember the names of every single one of them considering how often it changes.” The second it left Chenle’s mouth, he regretted it. Renjun’s face dropped. He was still furious, but something in his expression shifted to something he couldn’t name. Chenle felt his mouth dry up, but he clamped it shut and stood his ground.
Renjun stood there for a moment, almost like he was waiting for Chenle to take it all back, but when it passed, he bent down to grab the pack of cigarettes and threw it in Chenle’s face before storming off.
“Go burn your lungs for all I fucking care!”
He only got a glance of Renjun’s back before he disappeared back into the building.
A thousand thoughts race through his mind, and Chenle can’t help but feel the guilt from then weighing down on his heart.
He moves around the table, hesitating before placing a hand on Renjun’s shoulder, hoping that maybe the pressure will stop the shaking.
Renjun looks up at him then, and his eyes are bloodshot. He grabs Chenle’s hand in his own.
“I’m—” is all Chenle can get out. He takes a deep breath, then gestures for Renjun to do the same.
“I’m sorry I got mad at you for caring, and I’m sorry that I was a dick about Younghoon.”
“Don’t apologize,” Renjun croaks out. His voice is quiet, like he isn’t used to speaking anymore. Looking away from Chenle, he takes another shaky breath.
“You care a lot, Chenle, I know that. And it scares me. I…” he trails off. Chenle squeezes his hand lightly. “Everytime I’m with you, you’re always doing so much for me. Sometimes it feels like you do so much that I can never repay any of it back. And it hurts me to watch you do all this for me. I care about you so much, but I never know what to do. I care about you, and it scares me how much I do. I care about you, and it scares me how much you care about me too.”
With the last sentence, he looks up at Chenle, his eyes still glassy. Chenle’s free hand moves to cup his cheek, his thumb wiping stray tears.
“You don’t have to pay me back. I do this all because I care. If you let me care about you, that’s enough for me.”
“I don’t know how,” Renjun mumbles, leaning into Chenle’s hand. He turns his face, planting the faintest kiss on Chenle’s palm.
“Let me show you,” Chenle says, before leaning down and taking Renjun’s mouth in his own.
When Younghoon stepped away from the table, Jisung nudged Renjun’s side.
“What’s up, Jisungie?” Renjun smiled up at him. Jisung looked less happy, eyes skating around the table. Renjun’s eyes followed him. They were mostly alone, Donghyuck and Mark in a heated debate across the table that they kept trying to force Jeno to mediate. Jaemin was off at the bar getting them more drinks. Chenle went to the bathroom twenty minutes ago and hadn’t come back. Renjun wasn’t sure if he wanted to know where.
Then Jisung asked: “Do you like Younghoon that much?”
The question threw him off guard. It wasn’t a question anyone had bothered to ask him before, not with any of his other boyfriends before this, and he was certainly more interested in some than he was with Younghoon now. Still…
“We’re dating,” he said, plain and simple.
“You keep looking for Chenle while Younghoon’s trying to talk to you.” Jisung pointed it out like it was nothing. Renjun winced, but tried not to let it show.
“It’s not normal for him to leave for so long. I’m allowed to be worried.”
Jisung sighed at this. “Then go after him.”
“He’s too old for me to be hovering over him anymore.” I can’t protect him anymore goes unsaid. Jisung heard it anyway, throwing a knowing look at him. He looked up and Renjun followed, both of them spotting Younghoon making his way back through the crowd.
“Chenle cares about you a lot. Do something if you care about him too.” Jisung’s eyes said that he meant something else, but Renjun didn’t have time to ponder on it before Younghoon slid back into his seat at Renjun’s side.