illicit affairs

by jenomochi

Summary:

Their eyes meet. Jaemin stands there, frozen on his feet. And although he hasn’t been moving for the past five minutes, he feels as breathless as the man before him, as if he had been the one punching and practicing, heat running all over his body as the man doesn’t take his eyes off of him just yet. And Jaemin doesn’t take his eyes off of him either.

Jaemin Na, the son of the richest businessman in the country, catches the eye of the rising star of boxing, Jeno Lee. They fall for each other, and they treat each other like treasures – cherished, loved, and taken care of; but hidden, and kept secret from the rest of the world.

Notes:

aaaah it's finally here! this took me quite a while admittedly T__T i hope u guys like it aaa <3

title(s) from taylor swift's song, illicit affairs

this fic's playlist

Chapter 1: stolen stares

September

 

Jaemin is rich. He was born with a silver, diamond-studded spoon in his mouth, bathed in milk and roses, dressed in velvet and silk. He’s the only child of the Na family, a well-known line of businessmen whose riches date back to several decades ago. In short, they’re old money.

 

Jaemin wakes up in his silk robes, in his king size bed and linen sheets. He’s woken up by a maid, who immediately brings him his breakfast. He takes his time eating, takes his time bathing, takes his time looking out at the view of his balcony. After he bathes and gets dressed, the maids fix his hair for him as well.

 

Today is a Sunday, and according to his schedule, Jaemin is going with his parents to meet a possible business partner. He has no idea who they are, or where exactly they’re going, but it doesn’t really matter. He’s been taught to be proper, respectful, and formal, yet social, and likable. He must be the perfect heir to the eyes of the public, and that’s what’s most important. 

 

Jaemin walks up to the black Bentley with a straight and confident stature, thanking the chauffeur who opens it for him. He knows his parents are most likely in the other car, right in front of his. His assumption is confirmed when they move and his car follows theirs.

 

The ride to wherever they’re going takes about an hour or so. When they arrive, they are immediately let into the grounds. Jaemin’s eyes scan over the place when he steps out of the car. It’s a vast land with many buildings and structures, and it feels like a training center of sorts.

 

At the entrance of a large building, they’re greeted by three people as well – the Lee’s he later on finds out. His father shakes Mr. Lee’s hand, and his mother exchanges smiles with Mrs. Lee.

 

“This is my son, Jaemin,” Mr. Na says as he motions a hand over to him. Immediately, Jaemin puts on his best smile and reaches a hand out to Mr. Lee. “Good day.” 

 

Mister Lee shakes it with a smile as well, before motioning to the young man next to him.

 

“This is Minhyung. He’s my eldest son.”

 

Jaemin meets his eyes, a man with sharp cheekbones, a harsh jawline, but warm and soft hazelnut eyes.

 

“Pleasure to meet you,” he says as he extends out his hand. Minhyung takes it and bows as well. “And you.”

 

The family takes them up the stairs to a large lobby, where Mr. Lee introduces their company to them, in hopes of gaining an investor, or even just some form of connection. Anyone who had the Na’s on their side would have their success ensured.

 

Jaemin looks around the place, ears still listening in on his parents and Minhyung’s parents’ conversation. It is indeed a sports training center, where they train many athletes to join big competitions and win equally as big prizes. Mister Lee says it’s similar to a school. However, Jaemin knows it’s probably more about winning than learning.

 

They show them around the general training courts and rooms, and everything seems to flow normally. Jaemin is used to things like this, to meetings and tours and endless woo’s for his family’s favor. So he follows quietly, nodding and speaking when needed.

 

“The grounds are very large. Please, do go around if you wish,” Mr. Lee says after a while, probably hoping he isn’t boring the family.

 

“Oh, I prefer a guided tour actually, Mr. Lee,” Jaemin’s father replies with a soft chuckle. “But, Jaemin here might want to go around? Do you, son?”

 

“By all means, go ahead,” Mr. Lee encourages with a wide smile. Jaemin returns it, then he bids them goodbye and begins walking away.

 

As he walks around, Jaemin relaxes and waits for time to pass, waits boredly for someone to call him and tell him it’s time to go home. Sports are interesting, sure, but right now, nothing is really quite piquing his interest. So he decides to just walk, and walk, and walk, mindlessly looking at the people throwing balls, shooting arrows, or jogging. He pauses at times, watching a bit closely. Sometimes the people are the ones who pause at the sight of him, straightening up immediately. It goes on just like that for about an hour.

 

Jaemin sighs boredly as he enters a certain building, the air warm. His ears perk up however at a certain continuous, yet inconsistent sound as well, his footsteps growing cautious as he walks down the hall. As he draws closer to a room at the end of the hall, the sounds of punches are heard, one after the other, along with soft grunts.

 

His curiosity gets the best of him, so he walks until he can take a small peak at what has finally gotten his attention.

 

Jaemin is wide-eyed when he finally gets a glimpse. The room has a few windows for ventilation, wooden planks for floors, weights here and there, a sparring ring at the far end, and in the middle, a large black punching bag, and — a man. A blonde-haired man, with loose black pants on, upper body bare as he punches the black bag relentlessly, grunting lowly with each strike. His muscles are more than visible, veins protruding as he punches, and punches, and punches, panting heavily in between.

 

Jaemin stops to stare for a moment, a little more than just a moment. 

 

He peeks there by the doorway and watches; watches with round, glistening eyes. Watches every move, listens to every harsh breath, feels every vibration of the floor on the soles of his shiny leather shoes. He has never felt more exhilarated, the feeling becoming stronger with each punch the man throws .

 

Then, the man stops. He pants heavily, wrapped knuckles falling to his sides as he catches his breath. He huffs and wipes the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand. And then, he turns his head to the side.

 

Their eyes meet.

 

Jaemin stands there, frozen on his feet. And although he hasn’t been moving for the past five minutes, he feels as breathless as the man before him, as if he had been the one punching and practicing, heat running all over his body as the man doesn’t take his eyes off of him just yet. And Jaemin doesn’t take his eyes off of him either.

 

The man stands still as well, apart from his heavy panting, sweat dripping down his sculpted face and body, and an expression that Jaemin can’t quite identify on his face.

 

“I see you’re interested in boxing.”

 

Jaemin whips his head around at the voice, gasping softly in surprise. He immediately puts on a kind smile when he sees that it’s Minhyung Lee. 

 

“Quite,” Jaemin lies. Although Minhyung isn’t wrong about him being interested at this very moment. His eyes go back to the room, and he sees that the boxer has gone back to hitting the punching bag in front of him.

 

“I do too,” he hears Minhyung say next to him. “It’s quite the sport. Very exciting and climactic.” Internally, Jaemin wonders if he’s lying to gain his favor. Though if he isn’t lying, then he appreciates it. Only few people tell him the truth in meetings like this. He does the same though, so he never really minds. It’s an even playing field.

 

He nods in response, “It is.” And Jaemin says the words as he stares at the boxer again.

 

“He’s very good, isn’t he?”

 

Jaemin nods again.

 

“Indeed.”

 

“He’s our best one too. Which is why he gets his own practicing room, all to himself. The trainers are quite fond of him.”

 

Jaemin hums, still paying attention to the boxer’s punches and grunts.

 

“You seem very involved,” Jaemin says; perhaps Minhyung really does like this sport.

 

He hears Minhyung chuckle, “I’d like to think so.” Then, he clears his throat. “Would you like to-”

 

“I see you’ve found Mister Jaemin, Minhyung-ah,” a cheery voice interrupts them. When Jaemin turns his head to the side, he sees both of their parents walking together towards them.

 

The two young men put on bright smiles as they turn to them, and Jaemin realizes at that exact moment that Minhyung was raised exactly like he was.

 

The parents walk over to where they’re standing. With a soft ‘excuse me,’ Mr. Lee is the one who passes through the doorway and finally steps into the room the boxer is in.

 

“Come in, come in,” he motions to the rest. 

 

Jaemin watches as the boxer pauses from his training, panting heavily as he bows at Mr. Lee, and them, the guests.

 

“ This young man is my prized possession,” Mr. Lee chuckles as he places his white-gloved hand on the boxer’s shoulder. They all laugh lightly at that, along with the boxer. Jaemin notices the way his eyes smile with his lips.

 

“This is the Na family,” Mr. Lee tells the boxer, who nods brightly. Then, he turns to the Na’s, and introduces, “This is Jeno Lee,” and the boxer bows lowly.

 

“A pleasure to meet you all.”

 

The Na’s bow as well, and then Mr. Lee continues on, telling them about Jeno and the matches he has won. Jaemin is listening, with a small smile, nodding at the words.

 

And then, he meets Jeno’s gaze again, the distance between them much closer this time than when Jaemin first laid eyes on him. This time, Jaemin notices the slit on his eyebrow, the mole under his eye, the tall nose, the chisel of his jaw. When he brings his eyes back up to the boxer’s, he gasps softly when he finds that Jeno hasn’t taken his eyes off of him yet. He immediately looks away, a blush rising up his neck.

 

“What about you, Jaemin? Are you fond of watching boxing tournaments yourself?” Mr. Lee suddenly asks, breaking the young heir out of his thoughts.

 

Jaemin smiles and nods, “Yes, I am.”

 

Subconsciously, he glances over at Jeno, their eyes locking once again. Something about the boxer’s gaze makes him feel like he knows that he’s lying through his teeth, but still Jeno smiles when Mr. Lee gives him a pat on the back.

 

“Looks like you’ll appreciate seeing Jeno here in a tournament, huh? Why don’t you come to the next one?”

 

And with that, Mr. Lee is guiding the family back out of the building. Jaemin quietly follows, and when he knows that his company is a bit farther in front from him, he discreetly looks back. He meets the boxer’s eyes again.

 

–––

 

October

 

It’s a few weeks later when Jaemin is interrupted from his reading by a knock on the large wooden doors of his study. A moment later, Jaemin finds himself in his father’s office. 

 

“You remember Mr. Lee, right?”

 

Jaemin nods as he sips on his tea. “Yes.”

 

“Well, he invited us to a boxing match this weekend. Would you like to come? I know you are not fond of violence, but he offered us three seats, and it would be a bit disrespectful to decline.”

 

Jaemin sighs, but nods and smiles afterward. “It’s alright, I’ll go.”

 

So, that weekend, they go to the arena. They’re led to designated seats, the best in the entire arena. Jaemin finds that his seat is next to Minhyung, and a girl, who he soon finds out is the Lee’s youngest child.

 

The match is about to begin, and Jaemin is determined to pay attention to the caramel corn he is eating. The announcer begins welcoming the audience and judges, even giving special recognition to the Lee’s and Na’s. Then, he calls out the first player, a strong and tall man. Looks like any other man, Jaemin thinks. 

 

Jaemin is still paying attention to his caramel corn, and his caramel corn only, when the announcer states the name of the second player.

 

“And on the red corner, we have none other than the defending champion. The youngest ever to win this many titles. It is the bright, the fast, the bold, the one and only – Jeno Lee!”

 

Jaemin’s eyes widen. Right, he recalls. It’s Jeno Lee’s match he’s watching today. He immediately looks up, catching sight of the boxer entering the ring with his wide grin. The entire arena is cheering loudly, even his father and Mr. Lee are clapping very enthusiastically.

 

He watches as Jeno raises his red gloved hands, instantly entertaining the crowd.

 

A few minutes later, the game begins. 

 

Jaemin doesn’t watch the game, no. He watches the boxer. Not the boxers, just one boxer.

 

Somehow, he finds himself finishing all of his caramel popcorn in under fifteen minutes, and he gets another one immediately after. His fingers grip tightly on the dark linen that hugs his knees, leather shoes tapping relentlessly on the floor as punch after punch is thrown. His bottom lip is bitten raw from fright, flinching every time one of them is hit, or even close to being hit. It’s absolutely mad, how people can watch this for entertainment. He can barely keep his eyes open.

 

At the end of the game, Jeno Lee is declared the champion again. His opponent has multiple open cuts and bruises all over his body – Jaemin isn’t too sure. He can’t exactly take a good look at him with all the red on his face. Jeno Lee, however, has a small cut on his cheek.

 

The crowd cheers, both his father and Mr. Lee stand up first to clap, then the rest of them follow. Jaemin is the last to stand up, knees a bit wobbly from having to watch the whole feat. And when he finally gets on his feet, his hands clap gently on a tilt to his side.

 

Jeno Lee is smiling widely, hitting his chest in pride and raising his hands in the air as he shares his triumph with all of the audience. He sees him turn to their side of the audience to give Mr. Lee a smile, then a bow. Jaemin sees Mr. Lee nod in acknowledgment, cheering louder. Probably feeling proud. Upon instinct, Jaemin smiles a little wider too.

 

Then, he turns his gaze back to the main event in front of him, and gets the air knocked out of him when he sees Jeno Lee is looking at him again. Not that he hasn’t been looking at the boxer the entire game.

 

Jaemin sucks in a breath, claps slowing to a stop as the cheers of the crowd become muted around him, and all he can see and hear and feel, is the way Jeno Lee looks at him, the way Jeno Lee gazes up at him with that bright and breathtaking smile, the way Jeno Lee makes him pant heavily while standing still.

 

They haven’t even spoken a word to each other. Jeno Lee might not even know who he is. But just like that, in the presence of a hundred different people, with a large distance between them, a young and lowly boxer has imprinted himself in Jaemin Na’s mind.

 

–––

 

After the match, Jaemin and his parents are brought to a large home – which he presumes are the Lee’s home – for an afterparty to celebrate Jeno’s win. Although the moment they arrive at the entrance, Jaemin knows it’s not Jeno being celebrated, but the Lee family, their flourishing business, and their champions.

 

The party goes on and Jaemin quietly sips on his champagne as the Lee’s chat his parents up. He walks around the grounds, wandering around the halls and observing the paintings on the walls and chandeliers on the ceiling.

 

He’s rounding a corner when he’s suddenly met with a broad chest in a crisp white button-down and a navy blue blazer. Jaemin gasps, backing away immediately and nearly spilling his champagne. He looks up to see the face of who he’s bumped into to apologize, and he’s met with none other than the sharp eyes of Jeno Lee.

 

Jaemin immediately looks away, the boxer’s gaze seemingly more intense up close.

 

“I’m sorry,” he says promptly.

 

He hears a low chuckle come from the man.

 

“It’s alright. I should have been more careful,” he says respectfully. “Yet I don’t quite regret it. It’s not every day I get to stand in front of Jaemin Na.”

 

Jaemin looks up at that, seeing the soft smile adorning the boxer’s features.

 

“You know who I am,” he breathes out, even if he knows that almost everyone knows who he is.

 

“Of course,” Jeno smiles. Jaemin expects him to continue and say he’s the only son of the Na family and anyone would be a fool if they didn’t know who he was. But instead, the boxer’s smile turns into a smirk.

 

“I’d recognize those eyes anywhere.”

 

Jaemin looks away, his cheeks turning into the color of strawberries in the summer.

 

“Likewise,” he murmurs, feeling uncharacteristically inferior.

 

Jeno hums, “Are you enjoying the party?”

 

“Yes,” Jaemin answers, looking at his shiny shoes against the shiny floors. Then, a pair of leather shoes also step forward into his line of vision.

 

“You seem to be very good at lying, Mister Na.”

 

Jaemin scoffs.

 

“I am not lying.”

 

“Then why are you here, in an empty hallway, and not out and about where the people will surely cherish your presence?”

 

“I don’t care for attention.”

 

He notices a pair of leather shoes come closer.

 

“Aw, not even mine?” Jaemin finally looks up at that, catching the way the ends of Jeno’s lips curve up into a smirk.

 

No one backs down, no one dares to destroy the chain that has their eyes locking, looking into each other for what feels like forever.

 

Jeno’s smirk breaks into a smile.

 

“Your eyes are beautiful, your grace.”

 

Jaemin looks away again, earning him a deep chuckle from the boxer. He hears him inhale to continue, but a voice from the end of the hall stops him.

 

“Mister Jeno Lee?” They both turn their heads at that, to see a woman in a uniform approaching them . 

 

“Yes?” Jeno turns to the voice.

 

“Chairman Lee requests your presence at the banquet hall,” she says, before bowing and leaving.

 

Once her footsteps are barely heard, the boxer turns to Jaemin again. He sighs, “Well, it seems that I have to go now.”

 

Jaemin nods, bowing a bit as a form of goodbye. He expects Jeno to just bow back then leave, but instead, he straightens up after bowing, and looks the young heir in the eyes with a charming smile.

 

“I’ll see you again, Mister Na.”

 

–––

 

A few days later, Jaemin is practicing archery in their fields after his class, when one of their servants approaches him on a horse. He informs that his father has a message for him.

 

“Chairman Lee has invited us to come to their premises again. We shall leave at half past twelve tomorrow.”

 

The next day, Jaemin finds himself on the way to the Lee’s training center. This time, they meet Mister Lee alone, none of his children with him. Jaemin is told again that he may roam the grounds freely, so he borrows one of their horses and goes for a ride in the outdoors area. It was a good decision not to wear his uncomfortable formal shoes today.

 

By the fields, he sees a group of people doing archery, like he was just yesterday. He also sees some riding horses too, though they are doing it a bit less leisurely than he currently is. Some also appear to be doing some strength training, doing different exercises on the grass.

 

He’s towards the edge of the premises, when he sees a man running, or jogging , perhaps is the better term. Upon stopping his horse and sharpening his sight, he recognizes that the man is Jeno Lee. This time, he is wearing what appears to be a sleeveless cotton shirt, arms exposed to the warm sun and cool breeze.

 

Much to Jaemin’s surprise, Jeno Lee stops running. Now, he can see how breathless the boxer is, chest heaving up and down as he looks up at the sky. And then, he turns his head to the side. Their eyes meet.

 

This time, Jaemin doesn’t gasp or back down in surprise. In fact, he almost expected this. He returns Jeno’s gaze, and watches the ends of the boxer’s lips curl upwards. Then, he’s walking toward the young heir.

 

“Well, if it isn’t Mister Na?” he says after bowing, catching his breath with a chuckle.

 

“Hello,” Jaemin says quaintly, bowing his head just a little. 

 

“Fancy seeing you here,” Jeno says as he leans across the fence that marks where the land ownership ends.

 

Jaemin nods, “And you, Mister Lee.”

 

“You like horseback riding?” 

 

“Quite.”

 

The boxer chuckles, and Jaemin’s brows furrow.

 

“What’s so funny?”

 

“Nothing,” Jeno shakes his head, looking up at the heir. “I just find it amusing how you answer that to every other question.”

 

Jaemin rolls his eyes. But he doesn’t get to reply immediately when Jeno continues, “So what are you doing here? Did the chairman invite you again?”

 

“That is none of your business, Mister Lee,” Jaemin huffs as he looks away, not enjoying how the man speaks to him. “And yes, the chairman invited us. What other reason would I have to come here?”

 

“I don’t know, maybe you wanted to come see me?”

 

Jaemin glares at him for the remark, which the boxer simply laughs at.

 

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone you stopped to talk me,” he winks. “It’ll be our little secret.”

 

“That is very prideful of you to say, Mister Lee,” Jaemin gasps, unswayed.

 

“At least I had the guts to say it.”

 

“I’m sure the chairman wouldn’t like to hear what you’re saying though, Mister Lee.”

 

“What’s it matter to you?”

 

“It matters nothing to me, but it must mean something to you, Mister Lee. Don’t you think you’ve said enough to cost you your job?”

 

“Jesus. At least call me by my first name if you’re going to insult me.”

 

Jaemin meets his eyes at that, sees the way he leans back and sighs, squinting slightly because of the sun.

 

“Don’t you think what you’ve said is very prideful of you too, Mister Na? Or are you the stuck-up rich heir you seem to be? ‘Cause here I was, really hoping you weren’t.”

 

Jaemin looks away and bites down on his bottom lip. No, I’m not, he wants to answer. It’s the first time someone has spoken to him this way – confidently, and almost rudely. Yet for the first time as well, he feels guilty for his own actions and words, and he understands what Jeno is saying, what he is thinking about him, how he sees him. And for some reason, he wants to change that.

 

“I apologize,” he mutters, realizing his actions were swayed by emotions. By what emotions precisely, he isn’t too sure.

 

“Let’s start over then,” Jeno says, a hand raising up to him on his horse.

 

Jaemin stares at the hand. He leans down to take it, but in the final moment, decides against it and goes down his horse instead. Jeno moves a couple of steps back to give him space, before extending his hand again.

 

“I’m Jeno. Jeno Lee.”

 

Jaemin takes his hand.

 

“I’m Jaemin. Jaemin Na.”

 

Jeno smiles brightly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jaemin.”

 

The young heir takes a sharp breath in. People rarely say his name. They rarely see him as more than a business offer. They always care about what he thinks of them, but today, as he shakes Jeno’s hand, he finds himself caring about what the boxer thinks of him.

 

He manages a bit of a brighter smile. “The pleasure’s all mine.”

 

Jeno doesn’t let go of his hand just yet. “You have a beautiful smile, Jaemin.”

 

He feels warmth rush to his cheeks, quickly looking away and loosening his hand away from the boxer’s.

 

“Thank you,” he mutters.

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

---

 

The next time he sees Jeno Lee is the next weekend, at yet another game. But this time, instead of being shown directly to their seats, Jaemin and his father are led by Mister Lee and his daughter Aeri to the players’ holding area, before the game starts.

 

Upon entering the room, he immediately meets the boxer’s eyes. And just as instantly, Jeno sends him a cocky smile that only the two of them notice.

 

Chairman Lee speaks with a hand to the boxer’s bare shoulder, “Jeno, you’ve met that Na’s right? They’ve come to watch you once again.”

 

In response, Jeno smiles and bows down low to both Jaemin and his father. “Of course, of course. Thank you very much. I won’t let you down.”

 

Mister Na nods and chuckles, patting the boxer’s back. “Best of luck, Mister Lee.”

 

After a few more minutes, a person calls Jeno for his entrance. When they leave the room, Jaemin, albeit reluctantly, looks over his shoulder and spares one more glance at the boxer. Jeno doesn’t miss the chance to smile and send him a wink. Jaemin quickly snaps his head back round, half-annoyed and half-embarrassed.

 

Almost too easily, Jeno Lee wins. This time though, there’s no afterparty anymore, as the first party was also to celebrate the start of the season, the very first game.

 

Jaemin walks out of the arena with his father, hands still a bit fidgety from gripping the bottom of his seat a little too tightly throughout the fight. Still, he holds his stance and smiles politely at those who greet him. Mister Na does the same, and they’re silent until they enter their car.

 

“Do you think you could finish your studies before dinner tonight?” he asks his son when they sit down.

 

Jaemin nods at the question. He’s used to it, having to balance academics with his family’s business, but he’s still curious. “May I ask why?”

 

The chauffeur begins driving the car. “I invited Mister Lee over for dinner and a few drinks. He may bring one of his children, or maybe the boxer. They would appreciate your company.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Mister Lee does indeed come to their home after a few hours. Jaemin has had a change of clothes at this point, and he welcomes the chairman with a smile.

 

“Ah, if it isn’t the young Mister Jaemin Na!” Mister Lee says brightly the moment he enters their home.

 

“Glad to see you again, Sir.” Jaemin chuckles along, like he has been taught to do so. Unintentionally and subconsciously, he looks behind the man to see who he had brought along. He can’t help the way his smile falters for a split second when he sees it is not the boxer.

 

“Ah, I’ve brought Aeri with me today,” Mister Lee says, motioning to his daughter behind him. She bows respectfully, which Jaemin returns kindly. “This way, please. My parents are waiting in the dining hall.”

 

Dinner commences. The food is delicious, the talk is good. The Lee’s are kind, and the Na’s are great hosts. Jaemin thinks it’s a bit boring though, but he can’t say or show that, so he drinks his wine and smiles.

 

In the middle of the evening, when both Mister Lee and his father have had more than a few glasses, and his mother and Aeri are walking in the garden, Jaemin is able to make an escape.

 

He wanders alone through the quiet and empty halls of their home, the sound of his footsteps echoing. He looks at the paintings on their walls – paintings of his family, paintings of their home, paintings of their favorite places and things. He looks at the different sculptures here and there, runs his fingers over some of the furniture as he sips on his wine. One of the reasons he likes having a large home, is that there are many places where you can’t hear, or be heard, by anyone who might be at the other end of the house. He appreciates it, the comfort of being alone and being himself, no eyes on him and no expectations of him. Like he’s nothing more but a secret.

 

“Fancy seeing you here.”

 

Jaemin spins around quickly at the sound, at the familiar voice. He meets the boxer’s eyes at the end of the hall, looking into his without an ounce of fear or uncertainty. Jeno steps a few steps forward, and Jaemin stands where he is. None of them take their eyes off each other, as if it is a battle and they’re both waiting for the other to lose.

 

But no one gives in, until the boxer is just a meter away from the young heir.

 

“Hello, Jaemin.” Jeno smiles, hands in his dress pants’ pockets.

 

“Good evening.” Jaemin swallows. Finally, he tears his gaze away. “What are you doing here?“

 

“Having a drink?” Jeno says sarcastically as he lightly waves his wine glass, which makes the young heir sigh. “I didn’t see you come in with the chairman.”

 

“Because I came late. I had to get some of my wounds from the match cleaned and sorted out.” Then, he crosses his arms across his chest, before asking cockily, “Why? Did you hope to see me then?”

 

Jaemin feels blood rush up to his face. He doesn’t say anything, only continues walking down the hallway. The boxer follows him.

 

“Is that a no?” he laughs, catching up with the younger’s brisk steps.

 

Jaemin doesn’t reply again. He only drinks more of his wine, avoiding Jeno’s gaze. That is until, the boxer steps right in front of him and makes him stop. He has no choice but to directly look into his eyes then.

 

For once, there is seriousness on the boxer’s features.

 

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” Jeno asks softly. “If I do, then I’ll leave you be. Just tell me.”

 

Jaemin bites down on his bottom lip. He looks away and stays silent, unsure of what his answer should be– no, he knows what his answer should be. But it is different from what his answer truly is. 

 

He hears the boxer sigh, then move one step back. “I’m sorry. I’ll go then-”

 

“Wait.”

 

Jeno stops at that, and Jaemin gazes into his eyes again. 

 

“Y-You don’t make me uncomfortable,” he makes clear.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yes,” Jaemin admits quietly. “I mean it.”

 

“Good,” Jeno’s features ease into a smile again. “Because I like your company, Mister Na.”

 

The young heir breaks into a chuckle, willing his heartbeat to calm down a bit. “I thought we had agreed to call each other by our first names?”

 

“Depends,” Jeno shrugs as he begins to walk down the hall. Without thinking, Jaemin follows and walks next to him, hands together behind his back, both of their wine glasses abandoned on a random glass table. 

 

“Depends on what?”

 

“Depends if you see me as your equal.”

 

Jaemin rolls his eyes at that. “I wouldn’t be strolling through the halls with you right now if I didn’t see you as my equal, Jeno. ”

 

“Why not?” he muses. “Ah … Mister Na doesn’t like to walk with common folk, I see,” the boxer chuckles, the sound low and echoing in the empty hall. Jaemin is about to roll his eyes again and reply that it’s because he’s here in his house, when Jeno sighs and speaks, “Lucky I have Jaemin, and not Mister Na, by my side then. Isn’t that right?”

 

Jaemin giggles at that. He turns his gaze to the side, only to find that Jeno’s already looking at him, laughter falling off his lips as well. So, the young heir comfortably smiles a bit more too.

 

“Right,” he acknowledges. “You are indeed very lucky, Jeno Lee.”

 

The boxer hums, as if in satisfaction. Or at least the young heir hopes so.

 

Out of nowhere, Jeno stops in his tracks. Jaemin stops too, and turns to see Jeno’s broad back facing him. When he follows his line of vision, he can see that he’s looking at a painting. It’s a large one, almost covering the wall from top to bottom. A family portrait. It’s tradition, even now that this new technology called photography exists.

 

Jaemin steps forward so he’s next to him. He observes the painting too, as if he hasn’t walked by it a million times. Sometimes looking at something familiar with an unfamiliar perspective makes it look suddenly new. You notice details you never did before, colors and shapes and shadows you didn’t know were present. The presence of Jeno Lee next to him gives Jaemin that unfamiliar perspective.

 

“Your parents look absolutely frightening.”

 

Jaemin scoffs, letting a laugh escape from his lungs. He looks up at his parents’ faces, observes the direction of the brush strokes on their sharp jawlines and round eyes and dark eyebrows. Like his own. Perhaps they do look slightly scary. A bit gauntly.

 

His eyes move down to their clothes, which have always been the best. He thinks the fabrics could never be portrayed as well as they look in person, than in paint.

 

His eyes move further down, to a very young boy, about ten years old. Sharp jawline, round eyes, dark eyebrows. Like theirs. 

 

“It makes sense how I turned out like this then,” he laughs.

 

However, Jeno is shaking his head and has a smile on his face, looking at the same spot in the painting.

 

“You turned out like an angel.”

 

Jaemin looks away before Jeno can turn his head and meet his eyes and see the way his heart beats like a marching band on the apples of his cheeks. Yet again, uncharacteristically.

 

“Right,” he murmurs as he walks away, trying to bring the other’s attention elsewhere.

 

What follows is a low chuckle from the boxer, and a silent curse at himself from the young heir.

 

They take a couple of turns here and there, ask a couple of queries, say a couple of answers, maybe tell a secret or two. They’re not really secrets, at least what Jaemin’s been saying aren’t, but he hasn’t exactly told anyone else these things. So to him, it feels like he’s telling a secret. A soft whisper in the night to a man who seems so easily entertained by his words, and Jaemin hopes his smile is genuine, at least more than anyone else’s he’s seen before. Jaemin even giggles softly, says words quietly, tiptoeing around the halls and tiptoeing around the other man, like a thief in the night, or a child with a knife.

 

Carefully, he whispers his secret.

 

He leans in close, so no one else hears, so no one else knows,

 

“I hate strawberry jam.”

 

The boxer gasps offendedly, and it makes Jaemin laugh a little too loudly.

 

“That is absolutely unforgivable,” Jeno says, turning to the younger. Jaemin rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he settles down on one of the many long sofas in this hall. The boxer follows and sits next to him. In front of them, a large window that shows the night sky.

 

“Well, you must have something you don’t like as well, right?” Jaemin says with a sigh, looking at the view in front of them.

 

“I have a few,” Jeno hums. “Bees. Raisins. Mountains.”

 

Jaemin can’t help but raise an eyebrow. “What don’t you like about mountains?”

 

“What don’t you like about strawberry jam?” the boxer challenges, leaning in with a smirk.

 

Jaemin rolls his eyes, sitting back on the velvet backrest and crossing his arms on his chest. “It’s just my taste,” he hums. He turns to Jeno, “Your turn now.”

 

“I don’t really hate mountains themselves. They’re beautiful scenery. But I don’t like climbing them, or being on top of them.”

 

Jaemin turns to him, scoffing slyly. “So you’re afraid of heights.” He chuckles at that. A man like Jeno – he had thought he would be scared of nothing.

 

The boxer rolls his eyes at the laughter. “Come on, you can’t tell me you’re not afraid of falling from a high place?”

 

Jaemin hums, shrugging and directing his gaze back to the large window in front of them. The moon is shining brightly, and its light illuminates the space they’re in.

 

“Not really,” he answers. “Sure, the height is scary. But I can’t deny that the danger is thrilling. Exciting, even. Something new.”

 

Jeno chuckles when they meet eyes. “Well, that’s something new. I never knew Jaemin Na loved to take risks.”

 

Jaemin purses his lips. “I don’t. I never get the chance to,” he says, whispering towards the end.

 

The boxer hums, and Jaemin feels the cushion next to him dip. Then, a warm breath on his cheek. It’s so subtle, barely there, but it makes all the hairs on his body stand.

 

Without thinking, Jaemin turns to look at him.

 

When Jeno speaks, it’s above a whisper. Like he’s telling a secret too. And on his lips, a tiny trace of a smile.

 

“It’s never too late to make and take your own chances.”

 

Jaemin hums, and the way the boxer doesn’t move away makes him want to challenge him too. The way he smirks makes Jaemin smile too. And the way he looks so deeply into his eyes, makes him stare into those dark orbs too.

 

But then Jeno’s eyes fall to his lips, and it makes his want to fall to Jeno’s.

 

So he lets them.

 

His breath hitches at the sight, his heart stops at the feeling of their lips brushing against each other, just a feather of a touch.

 

Make your chance, a voice whispers in Jaemin’s head.

 

Make your chance. And take it.

 

He closes his eyes, and Jeno closes his too.

 

Then, they kiss.

 

And Jaemin’s been kissed before. He’s done far more than kissing, in fact. But with Jeno somehow, it feels different. Jeno’s lips are so soft against his. His calloused hands are kind and gentle as they come to rest over his leg. His skin is smooth and warm when Jaemin caresses his jaw.

 

Jaemin knows it’s wrong. School has taught him he must have a wife, and children. And even more so, his family taught him he must marry a person with the same status as them – as him. But Jaemin can’t find it in him to pull away. He can’t find it in him to push away Jeno when he tilts his head and kisses him deeper. He can’t find it in him to not tangle his fingers into the boxer’s blonde hair.

 

He can’t even find it in him to feel guilty. Not with the way Jeno’s lips fit so perfectly in his. Not with how Jeno pulls his body closer, and how he happily succumbs to it, like an apple falling from a tree branch to the ground. It all feels too right to feel wrong.

 

So they kiss, and kiss, and kiss. They chase each other’s lips under the moonlight, pulling each other impossibly close, basking in each other’s warmth and taste and touch.

 

They only pull away to catch their breath, their noses still touching and their arms still wound around each other. Jaemin smiles, eyes still closed; unaware of the way Jeno smiles too, eyes open.

 

“Perhaps, it’s not just your eyes that I find enchanting,” Jeno whispers, making the young heir chuckle, before opening his eyes.

 

“Perhaps, I share the same sentiment,” he whispers back, leaning in for just another taste.

 

They both erupt into soft giggles, cheeks flushed and stomachs swarming with butterflies.

 

The rest of the night is spent with more whispered stories, hushed laughter, and stolen kisses against floral wallpaper and behind satin curtains. Jaemin smiles more than he’s ever smiled in years, talks about himself more than he’s ever done in a decade.

 

When it gets too late and Jeno knows that he will be called to leave the Na estate soon, he gives Jaemin a tender kiss on the cheek, before leaving with a smile.

 

“I’ll see you soon, Jaemin.”

 

Jaemin nods and smiles back, with the promise of soon. He bites down on his bottom lip to hide the way his grin stretches to his ears. And just as he sees Jeno’s figure disappear into the end of the hallway, he hears a servant coming up behind him, telling him that the Lee’s will be leaving, and that they are to escort him.

 

That night, he doesn’t have a wink of sleep, and he loves it. The way his body feels, the way his heart beats, the way his cheeks warm, the way his fingers tremble when he brings them up and touches where Jeno had kissed him. It feels new, and exciting – like standing on the very top of a high mountain.

 

–––

 

The next time he sees Jeno is the next weekend; his father had told him he was going to the Lee estate once again, and Jaemin tried very hard not to seem too excited when he was asked if he wanted to come.

 

Everyday, the servants help him get dressed, and he could care less about what he wears, really. But today, he feels the need to watch their every move and ensure that he looks his best. Because today, he’ll see Jeno Lee.

 

There’s a grin that rests atop his features at the thought. He nods to his own reflection in the mirror – his styled hair, crisp white button up, knitted argyle sweater vest, and dark trousers – satisfied with the way he looks.

 

When they arrive, it doesn’t take long before Jaemin is told that he can walk around again. It’s just Mister Lee today, so he didn’t really need to say much before he was being sent away. They’re probably talking about business.

 

Jaemin tries not to skip up to the building where he first saw Jeno. He realizes when he steps foot in it again that this building is specifically for boxing. There seems to be no one else in the other rooms though, and he suddenly wonders if the whole building was made for Jeno, and Jeno only. Or perhaps they are just absent? It’s also possible that Jeno just trains more often than they do. 

 

Is Jeno even here?

 

He realizes that he doesn’t hear anything at all – no punches or grunts or other footsteps. Nervousness builds in him at the thought of being disappointed, of being let down. He tries to tell himself it doesn’t matter if Jeno is here or not, it’s completely alright. But a part of him can’t hide how he hopes that he is here.

 

He finds relief when he comes to the very last room, where he first saw Jeno, and sees the boxer sitting on a bench, wrapping his hands. He smiles softly there, standing by the door, admiring Jeno’s bare torso and intense focus, so much so that he doesn’t notice the young heir for a while. Jaemin wonders how he can stand the autumn wind without any upper body clothing on. 

 

A minute passes. Jaemin clears his throat, effectively catching the attention of the boxer. Jeno’s eyes visibly widen, before he relaxes and smirks.

 

“Well, hello,” he greets, returning to his task at hand, as if unsurprised by the unexpected company.

 

Jaemin walks forward slowly, so that the thick click-clack of his leather boots are heard. “Hello,” he returns.

 

He sits down next to Jeno on the bench, and suddenly feels a bit shy when he’s at a closer distance from the boxer and his naked torso. He clears his throat, tearing his eyes away and sitting a bit straighter.

 

“What brings you here?” Jeno asks as he continues wrapping his hand.

 

“I don’t know,” Jaemin hums. “Maybe I just wanted to see you.”

 

The boxer laughs and shakes his head, somehow knowing that he’s lying. Jaemin’s been lying to everyone his entire life, and Jeno seems to be the first to always know that he isn’t telling the truth. Or maybe he’s the only one bold enough to show that he knows.

 

“Mister Lee invited us,” Jaemin continues. “He’s talking with my father right now. Probably about some business deal.”

 

Jeno nods in acknowledgement as he speaks, just to let him know that he’s listening. Well, Jaemin hopes he is.

 

“Aw, I thought it was really to see me,” Jeno shrugs as he stands up and walks to the punching bag hanging in the center of the room

 

 Jaemin stands up abruptly then. He opens his mouth to defend himself, but closes it when the boxer looks back at him with a charming smile, teasing.

 

He looks away a second too quickly. It makes Jeno chuckle softly, which in turn makes Jaemin’s cheeks burn.

 

Then, Jeno speaks again, all too casually. “You look really good today.”

 

And that lights Jaemin’s entire body on fire.

 

“T-Thank you,” he replies, promptly looking away. The white wall seems to be quite intriguing.

 

Out of the corner of his eyes, however, is something that truly catches his eye. He pivots on his feet to turn his entire body to it, the shelves on the far end that have trophies lined on them, and the frames and medals hung next to them. Without thinking further, he walks towards them with practiced poise, slowly reading the words on the framed papers as he gets closer. 

 

They’re certificates. The trophies are almost all gold. So are the medals. Jaemin takes one in his hand. Engraved at the back of the cold and heavy metal, is a number of words. But the only words his eyes choose to read are ‘Jeno Lee.’

 

“Are these all yours?” he asks, still looking at the collection.

 

“Yes,” Jeno responds, right by his ear. It makes Jaemin jump a tad, gasping in surprise. 

 

Jaemin hums and turns back to the collection, pretending to be unfazed.

 

“That’s very … uh … nice,” he replies ungracefully. Luckily though, Jeno doesn’t seem to care.

 

“I started really young,” he says, pointing to a certain frame. Jaemin takes a look at it, and sees that the certificate was dated to ten years ago.

 

“I was only eleven then,” Jeno continues, and Jaemin realizes that they’re the same age. “I started playing around when I was just a wee little kid, in the streets outside our home. Then one day, Chairman Lee was passing by and saw me. Immediately, he asked to speak with my mother. And that was the beginning of it all.”

 

Jaemin turns to see the smile on the boxer’s face, somehow true and somehow not. He doesn’t really know.

 

“That’s … impressive,” he replies truthfully. “You are indeed very talented.”

 

Jeno’s smile seems to grow a bit more at the words. Or at least Jaemin hopes so. He hopes for everything when it comes to Jeno.

 

“Thank you, Jaemin. I’m glad you think so.”

 

The heir nods and smiles back.

 

Jeno doesn’t budge from where he’s standing in front of Jaemin. He just looks into his eyes, stares at his face, until Jaemin just has to look away.

 

“Y-You can carry on with what you were doing,” he says, clearing his throat yet again. “Don’t let me stop you.”

 

But then, Jeno takes one step forward. “I don’t want to do it anymore though,” he says lowly. “I want to do something else.”

 

Jeno takes one more step forward, ‘til the younger can nearly feel the warmth his bare chest radiates from the mere distance between them. “What do you want to do?” Jaemin asks softly, eyes still on the floor, feigning innocence.

 

He feels a finger press lightly under his chin, guiding his face up so he can meet the boxer’s eyes and feel Jeno’s breath against his.

 

“This.”

 

Jaemin’s eyes fall shut the moment Jeno leans in and slots their lips together. His entire body turns into putty as Jeno kisses him softly, slowly, deeply. His knees grow weak when the boxer tilts his head and places a thumb at the corner of his lips so that Jaemin opens up a little wider. And all too easily, he obeys and lets him in, hypnotized by the way Jeno caresses his jaw and smiles against his lips in reward for his pliancy.

 

A few seconds later, Jeno pulls away, and it feels a million seconds too early for Jaemin. Jeno spares him one more chased kiss, before moving away completely and backing away towards the punching bag.

 

“I’ll carry on now ,” he says, wiping the corner of his lips with his thumb and smirking.

 

“S-Sure, go on,” Jaemin stutters, cursing himself afterwards. He quickly turns around, lightly hitting his own cheeks to stop them from burning up further. It’s truly unfair how Jeno can make him feel so at ease, so comfortable and calm, enough that he can show him sides of him he’s yet to show others; but at the same time, he can make him feel so tense, so shy and uneasy and nervous, like he’s standing on a tight rope under a fire.

 

He moves to sit down on the bench again, taking a deep breath in, and out. When he straightens up and finally directs his gaze at the boxer, Jeno has begun punching. All he can do is watch, stare at him and his every move.

 

A few minutes later, Jaemin hears footsteps inside the building, and then seconds later, he sees Mister Lee and his father. He immediately stops to stand up and greet them, and he notices that Jeno also stops his movements to bow to them.

 

“Ah, Mister Jaemin Na is here as well,” Chairman Lee exclaims with a chuckle, to which Jaemin nods and smiles. “Minhyung did tell me you were interested in boxing,” 

 

“Yes,” he replies, his calm and poised self returning. “Mister Jeno Lee is very good.”

 

“I’ll tell you what,” Chairman Lee begins as he walks towards Jaemin. He places a hand on the younger’s shoulder. “You can come here anytime you want, for as long as you would like. Watch Jeno all day, or even the other boxers. Though it’s only Jeno who comes almost every day.”

 

“Oh, please, you don’t have to do that, Mister Lee. That’s too much,” Jaemin’s father says, which Jaemin knows all too well is a bait and a show of his kindness and humility. And it works, of course. 

 

Chairman Lee laughs and shakes his head. “Nonsense! This is the least I can offer for your help and cooperation.”

 

And of course, Mister Na nods and gives his thanks, unable to decline the gracious offer. Jaemin smiles brightly as he shakes hands with the chairman, right after his father does.

 

“Well, I’ll leave you to watch Jeno some more,” Chairman Lee says. “And you Mister Na? Care for some tea and cake?”

 

“I’d love some Chamomile tea,” Mister Na nods, and Mister Lee leads the way for them to leave the building. Jaemin is told by his father to use the Lee’s telephone to let him know when he’s ready to go home, so he can have the chauffeur get the car ready.

 

The young heir’s stance relaxes a bit when he hears that the sound of their footsteps have completely faded. He turns to Jeno, who’s already looking at him with a smirk.

 

“So you like watching me, huh?” Jaemin rolls his eyes. He walks towards him, nodding. “Quite,” he admits shyly.

 

Jeno chuckles, “I better do my best then.” And then he goes back to punching the bag in front of him, which makes Jaemin gasp and take a step back in surprise. He doesn’t move too far away though, too mesmerized by the way Jeno’s muscles flex with every jab. 

 

It doesn’t take long before Jeno’s torso is dripping wet with sweat, his face red, and his grunts loud. But he isn’t stopping, and it’s been so long that the soles of the young heir’s feet have started to hurt from standing for so long. He isn’t one bit concerned though, he doesn’t care at all about his feet. Instead, he’s biting his bottom lip, imagining how the boxer’s knuckles look and feel under all that wrap.

 

As if on cue, Jeno stops. His chest heaves up and down as he takes heavy breaths. Then, he turns his head to the side. He catches Jaemin’s steady gaze on him, like the first time he did. But this time, no one is there to interrupt them, and it feels like forever before Jeno finally breaks their eye contact. He walks towards a bag somewhere in the back of the room, then pulls out a towel to wipe his sweat. He also takes a quick drink from his jug of water, and Jaemin feels his own throat dry.

 

The boxer chuckles when he catches Jaemin watching. “You thirsty too?” he asks, hanging the towel around his neck.

 

“No,” Jaemin answers quickly, looking away. “I-I’m fine.” He’s too focused on not directing his gaze at Jeno, that he doesn’t notice that Jeno’s begun to walk towards him. Not until he’s already stood in front of him.

 

Jeno asks, “Will you be here tomorrow?” 

 

“I-I don’t know yet. Why do you ask?”

 

“Because I want to see you.”

 

Jaemin can’t help how he bites down on his bottom lip, holding back a smile. He takes a deep breath to calm himself, clears his throat, then nods.

 

“Then I’ll come.”

 

Jeno grins widely, and it allows Jaemin to let go and let his lips stretch to a bright smile too. They fall into soft giggles, cheeks flushed.

 

They sit down and talk a bit more afterwards, until the sun has nearly set. Jaemin finally leaves after receiving another kiss on his lips, then on his cheek.

 

–––

 

He keeps his promise. The next day, Jaemin finds himself in the training center again. He was driven alone by the chauffeur this time however, without his father. Chairman Lee doesn’t seem to be in the premises as well, so the young heir leisurely walks towards the building he knows Jeno is training in.

 

When he arrives, a trainer is there with Jeno inside the boxing ring, boxing gloves on his hands. They immediately stop what they’re doing upon seeing Jaemin by the door. For a split second, the boxer meets his eyes, smiling brightly.

 

“M-Mister Jaemin Na,” the trainer bows. “It’s a pleasure to be in your presence.”

 

“The pleasure’s all mine,” Jaemin says with a kind smile. “Please, carry on. Pretend as if I am not here.”

 

The trainer nods, then they’re back to training again.

 

Jaemin sits on the bench, watching intently as the trainer pushes Jeno and encourages him. He’s thoroughly impressed if anything, though it’s hard to tell if his judgement is clouded by the way Jeno looks when he punches and swings and counters.

 

After a few hours, within which Jaemin is brought cakes and tea by the other employees in the training center, the trainer pats Jeno on the back and ends their training. He tells Jeno some last points to practice on as he takes off his boxing gloves, before leaving the building with a bow to the heir.

 

When it’s just the two of them left, Jeno turns to him with a smile.

 

“Hey,” he says, wiping a bit of his sweat with a towel. “You came.”

 

“Of course,” Jaemin nods. “I’m a man of my word.”

 

The boxer chuckles, before walking towards the same punching bag Jaemin’s watched him practice with alone.

 

“I want to practice a bit more,” he announces, to which Jaemin just nods and mutters out an, “Okay.” For the next half hour, Jaemin just watches him the whole time, not once unentertained.

 

When Jeno finally finishes, he comes up to sit next to the younger, wiping his own sweat with a towel and downing some water. He puts on a shirt too, which Jaemin is grateful for, because he doesn’t know if he’d be able to take it if he didn’t.

 

“You alright?” he asks.

 

“I’m perfect,” Jeno replies a bit breathlessly, charming smile and all.

 

“So …” Jaemin starts, wanting to make conversation. “Are you still afraid of heights?”

 

Jeno chuckles, beginning to unwrap his hands. “That can’t change in a couple days now, can it?”

 

Jaemin smiles, placing his chin on his palm so he can gaze up at Jeno. “Well, I just thought you’d lie to impress me.”

 

The boxer laughs even more, but shakes his head. “I do want to impress you, but I wouldn’t want to lie to you.”

 

Jaemin hums, his confidence growing once more with the older’s words.

 

“I am impressed,” he says, and it makes Jeno’s eyes turn into crescent moons.

 

“That’s good to know,” the boxer whispers, but Jaemin knows he meant for him to hear it.

 

Jeno tells him he’s done training for the day, so they just sit there on the bench and share a bit more about themselves – preferences, hobbies, favorite color, spice tolerance, number of teaspoons of sugar preferred in coffee, how they like their eggs cooked in the morning.

 

“Sunny side up, with crisp edges but a runny yolk,” Jaemin hums. “Yours?”

 

“Hard boiled, with … salt and pepper?” Jeno says, making the both of them laugh.

 

“How is hard boiled even delicious?” the young heir questions as he crosses one leg over the other. “Seems rather … bland.”

 

Jeno chuckles and shakes his head. “I like it that way. And, it’s a very healthy way to eat eggs.”

 

“Alright, chef,” the younger giggles. “Hmm, what else,” he ponders out loud. “Favorite place?”

 

“Here, in my training room. Yours?”

 

“I don’t know, honestly. Maybe my study. Just a place where I can think.”

 

“Okay. My turn,” the boxer says. “Favorite animal.”

 

“Puppies. Yours?”

 

“Puppies do seem nice, but I prefer cats.”

 

Jeno continues. “Favorite drink.”

 

“Tea. You?”

 

“Cola.”

 

“Favorite season?” 

 

“Fall.”

 

“Spring.”

 

“Guilty pleasure.”

 

“Eating chocolate at midnight.”

 

“ You .”

 

A soft gasp escapes the young heir. He meets Jeno’s eyes, and instantly looks away as he feels a blush creep onto his cheeks.

 

“I … I should go,” he says, standing up abruptly.

 

“Aw, so soon?” Jeno jokes. Jaemin chuckles and rolls his eyes.

 

“Alright, it is getting late,” the boxer says as he stands up. “Your parents might be worried.”

 

“What about you?”

 

Jeno shrugs coolly, “Don’t worry about me.”

 

Jaemin rolls his eyes again, to which they both laugh. They walk towards the door then, and though he’s been here from noon til sunset, the young heir suddenly feels unsure about leaving.

 

“So,” the boxer leans his back against the door frame, looking at Jaemin in front of him. “Will you come again tomorrow?”

 

The young heir looks down at his shoes. “I-I don’t know yet. It depends.”

 

“The day after tomorrow then,” Jeno continues, to which Jaemin can’t hold back his sheepish grin.

 

“I’ll try,” he says, voice soft as he fears it’ll crack and give away the butterflies swarming inside of him.

 

“Okay,” the boxer replies, satisfied. And the moment the young heir finally has the courage to look up and gaze into his eyes, Jeno speaks again.

 

“I like you a lot, Jaemin. I’m serious about you. You know that, right?”

 

Jaemin feels like he could die at this moment. He feels like he’s floating in the clouds, and he never wants to come back down. 

 

Slowly, he nods. “I-I do.”

 

“Good,” Jeno smiles. “I guess I’ll see you soon then,” he says, to which Jaemin nods immediately. “Okay.”

 

The young heir turns around, and begins walking away. He’s walking, and walking, and walking.

 

Then before he knows it, his feet are turning and he’s walking back towards where Jeno is still standing by the doorframe, watching him.

 

“Change your mind so soon?” Jeno chuckles, crossing his arms on his chest. Jaemin nods, footsteps quickening as he gets closer. He stops only to cup Jeno’s face, close his eyes, and kiss him.

 

It surprises the boxer, but it only takes a second before he’s smiling on Jaemin’s lips and kissing back. Jeno wraps his arms around his waist, pulling him closer as he relaxes his weight on the door frame. They kiss for a few minutes more, bodies melting into each other and mouths swallowing each other’s soft hums and breaths. 

 

It doesn’t take long before one of Jeno’s hands is travelling downwards, palming the subtle curve of Jaemin’s ass. When he gives it a small squeeze, the younger gasps, allowing Jeno to slip his tongue into his mouth. Jaemin’s hands move to his broad back, feeling all the hard muscle under his palms. 

 

“God, you drive me crazy,” Jeno whispers.

 

Jaemin only smiles, letting the older place soft kisses on his neck, and then one on his lips, and then they’re making out again. Jaemin pulls the older’s blonde hair, whimpering when he feels their bulges brush against each other, craving for more.

 

Jeno loses his mind when the younger suddenly pulls away and drops to his knees. He whispers curses under his breath as the heir impatiently pulls on the string of his trackpants, then pulls it down along with his underwear in one quick move.

 

“Hey, hey, baby, slow down.” Jeno says breathlessly as he threads his fingers through Jaemin’s soft black hair. The younger looks up at him with doe eyes, one hand already stroking his length. “A-Are you sure about this? You don’t have to do this.”

 

Jaemin frowns. “Do you not want me to?”

 

The boxer laughs and shakes his head. “Believe me, I want this more than I’ve ever wanted anything. But I just don’t want to put you in hard place. I don’t want to force you.”

 

“You’re incredibly sweet, Jeno,” Jaemin says quietly, shyly even. Then, he looks up, that confident gleam back in his eyes. “But don’t worry,” he says just before he licks a stripe from Jeno’s balls all the way up to his tip. “I want it as much as you do.”

 

Jeno doesn’t get to reply when his entire length gets sucked into the younger’s mouth, tip hitting the back of his throat immediately.

 

He feels confused. Sometimes Jaemin is this shy young man who seems too naive to be on his knees and swirling his tongue around the head of his cock skillfully. Whose guilty pleasure is eating candy at midnight, who blushes at the smallest remarks. An angel, like that young boy he saw in the painting, wide eyes that sparkle with curiosity whenever they meet his own.

 

But now, with the way he looks up at Jeno, mouth full of his cock, getting him off right here where anyone can walk in on them, he looks like the devil. And Jeno has never been more in love with the idea of committing a sin.

 

Jaemin sucks him off so enthusiastically, bobbing his head up and down the length. He even pulls off to dribble some saliva onto the head, spreading it all over Jeno’s cock. His thumb digs into the slit, causing the boxer to moan and throw his head back.

 

“Shit,” he whispers as Jaemin takes him into his mouth again. And when Jeno chooses to look down, he almost cums right there. Jaemin looks absolutely illegal, his lips stretched thin around his cock and his big round eyes watery with tears. “Fuck, that’s so good,” he pants, letting his eyes roll to the back of his head. “You’re doing so good, baby.” Jaemin keens at the praise, eyes fluttering close and tongue flattening on the underside of Jeno’s cock.

 

He pulls off for just a moment; then he sinks deep again, making the boxer groan above him in pleasure.

 

“ Fuck , I’m close,” he grunts, trying hard not to thrust into Jaemin’s mouth. The younger takes it as a sign to work faster and harder, sucking on Jeno’s leaking tip while his two hands twist up and down the rest of him. 

 

“Baby,” Jeno tries pushing him away with a hand in his soft black locks. “Baby, pull off now , I’m gonna-”

 

But Jaemin doesn’t listen. No, he only irks Jeno on even more by moaning loudly around his cock and looking up at him, a single tear streaming down his cheek. He goes as far as bringing a hand down to toy with his balls, squeezing and massaging them in his palm as he presses his tongue over his slit. And when Jaemin takes him back into his throat one last time, Jeno throws his head back and moans his name as he releases warm spurts into his mouth. The younger milks him dry, still weakly sucking and stroking him until he’s swallowed all of his cum and Jeno is panting like he’d just finished a match.

 

Jaemin tucks him back into his pants before rising to his feet. The boxer catches him in his arms immediately, and he kisses the young heir on the lips, tenderly so that he can feel the way he tastes on his tongue, so he can hold him in his arms when he feels his legs weakening.

 

When they pull away, he showers Jaemin’s face with soft kisses, letting him smile and lean into him naturally.

 

“You’re so good for me,” he whispers. “So, so good.”

 

“Only for you,” Jaemin whispers as he bites back a smile.

 

The boxer chuckles, pressing one last kiss to his nose. “I didn’t know you knew how to do that.”

 

“I can do more than that,” Jaemin giggles breathlessly, all too innocently for what he had just said.

 

And he knows what he’s done. He’s essentially thrown out his entire image in front of Jeno. The innocent, prim and proper son of the Na family is completely gone now, but Jaemin doesn’t regret letting go of his mask at this moment, not one bit. Because Jeno just smiles sweetly. Caresses his cheek tenderly. Looks at him fondly. He likes him all the same.

 

He leans in to kiss Jaemin one more time. Then, he chuckles, and whispers his secret. Like a thief in the night. Like a child with a knife. Like jumping off the top of a mountain, even when you’re afraid of heights.

 

“Oh, baby. I think I’ve already completely fallen for you.”

 

A grin stretches on Jaemin’s face from ear to ear. He leans his forehead on Jeno’s, looking into his eyes.

 

“Me too.”

 

–––

 

November

 

The last time leads to a series of next time’s for the next couple weeks. Jaemin visits Jeno during practice a little too often now – every weekend, and as much as he can when his classes finish early – and he’s glad his parents seem busy enough not to care. Sometimes he runs into Mister Lee, who seems extremely happy with the fact that he’s there. Sometimes there are trainers too when he comes. Most of the time, it’s just him and Jeno.

 

Some days, they talk and laugh and share more secrets. Other days, Jaemin’s on his knees again with a cock in his mouth, or long fingers are fucking into him relentlessly as he begs for more. He realizes that Jeno has just as much experience as he does, and it makes him feel more open and comfortable with him. With Jeno, there’s nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to hide.

 

Today, he’s just chosen to sit on the bench, watching the boxer silently the whole afternoon. When he finishes, Jeno sits next to him and unwraps his hands.

 

“Does it not hurt?” Jaemin asks curiously, looking at one of the boxer’s fists, already half unwrapped.

 

Jeno chuckles softly. “Why do you ask so suddenly?”

 

The younger frowns a bit, exhaling as his figure shrinks down.

 

“I … I actually don’t like boxing. I don’t like violence,” he admits quietly. He’s never really told the other that, so might as well tell him now.

 

He hears Jeno hum, and sees him nod. “I figured.”

 

“I’m sorry?” Jaemin voices out his confusion and surprise.

 

“You flinch everytime I punch that bag right there,” he says, pointing at the large cylinder in the center of the room, “As if it was a person. Or it was you.”

 

“Oh,” Jaemin coughs awkwardly, shifting about in his seat. “I guess I’m not too good at acting.”

 

“It’s okay though,” Jeno smiles. “By the way, it doesn’t hurt that much. Especially when you’ve been doing it for a long time.”

 

The young heir nods, letting out a soft “ Ah .”

 

Then, Jeno turns to him with a mischievous glint.

 

“You wanna try?”

 

Jaemin begins to shakes his head; he opens him mouth and stutters out a soft “ I don’t know how- -” but in the end, he can’t but help but giggle and give in when the boxer takes his hands and gently pulls him up to his feet with that easy grin of his.

 

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” he says, making Jaemin laugh and nod. Jeno holds his hands and looks him in the eyes as he brings him towards the center of the room, letting go when they’re right by the punching bag.

 

Unsurely, Jaemin stands the way he sees Jeno does, and closes his hands until they form tight fists. He takes a deep breath, all while the boxer watches intently.

 

Then, he punches the bag. Just once, with his right hand. It’s a bit weak, he admits, but he’s never exactly– punched anyone or anything.

 

It’s anti-climactic, and Jaemin doesn’t know exactly what to do now. He slowly looks to Jeno who’s been silent the entire time. When they meet eyes, Jeno sighs and chuckles, and Jaemin bites down on his bottom lip.

 

The boxer approaches him, then takes one of his hands in two of his. Jaemin expects him to open his fist, maybe correct the positioning of his fingers, but instead, Jeno just holds it, massages it almost.

 

“Relax,” he says lowly, willing the young heir’s hand to loosen up a bit, so he’s not closing his fist so tightly. 

 

You could’ve just told me, Jaemin thinks of saying, but decides against it when the boxer takes his other hand and does the same to it, gently coaxing it to relax and uncompress. He chooses that moment to look at the boxer’s face, and he swallows at the sight alone. Jeno still makes him feel shy, embarrassed even, after the past weeks.

 

“Now look straight at the punching bag,” Jeno breaks him out of his thoughts. He obeys. “Gather strength from your whole body, not just the arm. Then, punch.” Jeno moves away, and Jaemin nods.

 

He takes a deep breath in, and out. He focuses on the punching bag alone. Then, he throws his punch.

 

This time, it’s visibly stronger than the first. He finds himself panting right after, adrenaline rushing through him. The sound of his knuckles hitting the bag still echoes through the room. When he turns to the boxer, Jeno is smiling.

 

“There you go.”

 

Jaemin doesn’t realize he’s smiling too, until his cheeks start to hurt. Until Jeno’s own smile slowly fades away. Until he’s just staring at the younger. Just, looking at him.

 

The young heir feels a blush rush to his cheeks. He opens his mouth to say something, but doesn’t get to when Jeno walks up to him and kisses his lips. One hand cups Jaemin’s cheek, and the other holds him by the waist, keeping him close.

 

Jaemin smiles through the kiss, he feels like he’s floating once again. He kisses back sweetly, gasping when strong arms wrap around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer.

 

When they pull away, Jeno nuzzles his face into the crook of his neck. Jaemin lets him, smiling as he hugs him back.

 

“Are you alright?” he asks, making sure.

 

He feels Jeno nod into his neck, which makes him giggle. “I’m perfect.”

 

Silence comes over them, but they don’t break away from each other. They just stand there in each other’s arms, quiet and calm. Jaemin takes the opportunity to run his fingers through Jeno’s hair, patting his head gently.

 

Later on, Jeno asks, “Are you doing anything tonight?”

 

Jaemin pulls away slowly. “I don’t think so. I don’t have class tomorrow, so I wont be doing much. Why do you ask?”

 

“I was thinking of taking you out to dinner. I think I owe you a decent date, don’t you think?”

 

Jaemin bites down on his bottom lip. He looks away. “R-Really?”

 

“Yeah,” Jeno beams, undeterred. “We do so much. We talk so much. We spend so much time together. But we’ve never even gone on a real date.”

 

But when the younger stays quiet, his lips curve downwards.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

Jaemin doesn’t respond, doesn’t look him in the eye. It hurts when he hears the boxer sigh.

 

“Look at me,” Jeno calls softly, cupping his face. Jaemin obeys.

 

“I get it,” he says, brushing a stray strand of hair away from his face. “We’ll be seen.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Jaemin replies, just above a whisper. He leans into Jeno’s touch. “I-I want to be with you, Jeno. I want to show everyone too, I really do. But, you know we can’t. I just- I-I don’t know how to-”

 

“Hey, hey, baby,” Jeno shushes him gently. He runs his thumb over his skin softly, smiling. “It’s alright,” he whispers. “It’s okay.” He cradles Jaemin’s head to his chest, pressing his lips to his forehead and keeping them there for a minute or two.

 

“Do you want to come to my apartment instead?”

 

Jaemin gasps slightly at the question. Although he’s done many things with Jeno, they’ve always just done it at the training room, when everyone else had gone home. Doors locked, windows closed, and sun almost down. 

 

“R-Really? Is it okay?”

 

The boxer’s eyes turn into those little crescent moons that Jaemin loves seeing so much. “Of course it’s okay. It’s only me who lives there, so don’t worry.”

 

Jaemin nods excitedly, before leaning in to press a kiss to the boxer’s lips. “Okay.”

 

By sundown, Jaemin tells and gives his chauffeur enough to keep his mouth shut. The chauffer nods and drives back home, and then the young heir’s all ready to make his escape. It’s easy. He’s always done this. In fact, he’s quite sure that his parents know that he’s done this, by the number of times he’s come home late at night or in the morning, but they just don’t really care or mind. As long as he isn’t seen by others.

 

When night finally falls, Jeno takes Jaemin for a ride on his motorbike. It’s a first for the latter, and he feels absolutely exhilarated. The wind is cold and strong and brushing his hair back, but Jeno is warm and soft and chuckling when Jaemin wraps his arms around him from where he’s seated at the back.

 

“You okay?” he asks at stoplight, glancing at the boy behind him.

 

Jaemin nods as much as he can with his cheek pressed onto Jeno’s back.

 

“Never been better.”

 

When they reach the building of Jeno’s apartment and the boxer is beginning to unlock the door with his keys, Jaemin takes a deep breath in and out. He doesn’t really know what to expect. But he doesn’t have time to think, because the knob clicks open, and then Jeno’s opening the door with a soft creak. They take their shoes and coats off at the door, and then they’re stepping into the small space.

 

Jaemin scans his eyes around. There’s a kitchen to his right, with a stove top and a refrigerator, then right across it is a door which he suspects leads to the bathroom. He walks forward a bit more, then he meets a queen-size bed, with white sheets and a maroon blanket. On the wall, there are some books, a clock, and a pair of boxing gloves hanging. There’s a night stand too, with a large lamp, a radio, and a telephone.

 

“What do you think?” Jeno’s voice breaks him from his observing. The boxer looks around too, walks a bit until he’s standing by the bed. He rubs the back of his neck shyly, “I know it’s not much but-”

 

“It’s perfect, Jeno,” Jaemin cuts him off with a soft smile.

 

Jeno releases a sigh of relief in return. A chuckle falls from his lips then, and he walks towards the young heir slowly. When he’s close enough, he reaches for his hands and walks them backwards towards the bed. And once his legs hit the edge of it, he sits down and Jaemin naturally follows by straddling his lap.

 

The kiss is dirty from the start, with Jeno’s big hands running all over the younger’s thighs, and Jaemin’s fingertips pressing into the boxer’s biceps. Experimentally, Jaemin pushes his hips down and grinds forward. It earns him a loud groan from Jeno, and when he does it a second time, the boxer’s hands grip his waist hard enough to leave bruises. Before he can do it for the third time, he’s abruptly flipped over onto his back. He lets out a soft moan as the older hovers over him and begins to leave soft and wet kisses on his neck. Jaemin whimpers at the sensation, fingers clawing at the older’s back.

 

“S-Slow down,” he whispers between pants, though he pulls Jeno closer and laughs when he disobeys him.

 

“No, I’m not slowing down,” Jeno says between breathless chuckles, trying to kiss Jaemin while they’re both giggling. “How can I slow down when you’re this sexy?”

 

The young heir places his palms on the older’s chest to stop him, and their laughter dies down then. He looks straight into his eyes, and reaches up to caress one side of his face. “All I’m saying is we have the whole night, okay? You can take your time with me,” he whispers. “ I’m all yours .”

 

---

 

Jaemin cozies into Jeno’s chest, laying his head right on top and wrapping an arm around his torso. Jeno keeps him close with an arm around his waist as well, fingers combing through the heir’s black hair. Slow music plays from the radio on the nightstand, and they just lay there in comfortable silence, naked under the maroon fleece blanket.

 

Jaemin is beyond happy. More than satisfied. In a state of pure bliss and peace. And he loves it.

 

“You okay?” he hears Jeno ask, and he doesn’t even have to look his way, to know that he’s already looking at him.

 

“Yeah,” he nods, nuzzling closer to him. He feels a kiss on the crown of his head, and a steady heartbeat under his cheek. And he loves it.

 

---

 

December

 

Jaemin’s visits to Jeno’s apartment become more frequent. He learns many things about the boxer’s life, like the fact that his older sister is working as a waitress on the other side of the country and his mother is now quite old, and stays in their old home where he grew up. He visits her from time to time, says she likes it when he brings her fresh flowers to put in their vase. His father died in the war, when he was very young.

 

He also now memorizes Jeno’s preferences by heart, and Jeno memorizes his own too. Like how he likes his bread toasted ‘til it’s nearly burnt, how he likes watching the night sky when it’s late and no one else is awake, how he doesn’t really like business and would love to pursue art, and how he likes the feeling of Jeno’s cum filling him up.

 

Some days, Jaemin stays ‘till noon and tells the boxer about the classes he just skipped. Other days, he has to leave when it’s still dark out, and he gives Jeno a kiss before he goes. Sometimes, he’s even there before Jeno is, surprising him when he comes home from boxing practice or a match. He doesn’t go to Jeno’s matches or to the training center either these days, so they draw less attention from prying eyes. And when Jaemin goes to his apartment, he always makes sure to bring his hat and thick scarf, so no one recognizes him when he comes and leaves. Sometimes he takes a cab, sometimes he uses his bicycle, sometimes he takes a car from home and just leaves a note saying he’s gone away for the day.

 

Some nights are too quick, and Jaemin finds himself thinking about Jeno the next day while he’s in class. Some nights are long, and those are the ones Jaemin loves the most.

 

Today, he finds himself in Jeno’s bathtub before he’s even come home from training. He’s just relaxing from a long day of classes, and although he has a much larger bathtub of his own, he wants to surprise the boxer. And it works just like a charm.

 

When the bathroom door clicks open and Jeno finally enters, his eyes instantly widen. But just as quickly, a smirk curves up one corner of his lips. “Well I’ll be damned,” he chuckles lowly. He closes the door, walks up to the tub slowly, and leans down low enough so he can tilt Jaemin’s face up with a finger under his chin. And without hesitation, he kisses him, sweet and slow.

 

“Join me,” Jaemin whispers against his lips.

 

“Oh I will, baby.”

 

---

 

“Fuck,” Jeno groans when Jaemin speeds up, bouncing up and down on his cock. “That’s it, baby,” he whispers, fingers digging into the plush of his ass under the soapy water. “Just like that.”

 

Jaemin is motivated by the praise, whimpering softly as he does his best to maintain his pace. He hides his face in Jeno’s neck and bites down on his bottom lip to keep his noises to himself.

 

But when Jeno suddenly thrusts upward, a choked out moan comes out of him unintentionally.

 

“There you go,” Jeno hums, thrusting up again right against his prostate. “Let me hear you, baby,” he whispers into his ear, slamming up into him so hard that the water splashes around them. “I want to hear you moan my name.”

 

“ Jeno ,” Jaemin finally releases his lip between his teeth, and moans lewdly as Jeno pounds into him like there’s no tomorrow. Fueled by the sounds he makes, the boxer thrust faster and harder, ‘til Jaemin is screaming and almost sobbing from the pleasure. The sound of skin slapping against skin and the water sloshing around only adds to the lewd noises coming from both of their mouths.

 

“I-I’m close,” Jaemin whimpers, trying desperately to move his hips in time the older’s thrusts. 

 

“Me too, baby,” Jeno breathes out, giving Jaemin’s ass cheeks a tight squeeze. “Come with me.”

 

It only takes a few more thrusts before Jaemin is spilling between them with a loud moan, making a mess on their abdomens and in the tub. The feeling of the younger tightening around him is what makes Jeno follow just a second after, filling Jaemin up to the point that his cum leaks out into the water as he continues thrusting up slowly, drawing his orgasm out.

 

“Holy shit,” Jeno whispers as his thrusts slow to a stop.

 

Jaemin collapses on Jeno afterwards, head laying on his shoulder as they both catch their breaths. 

 

“You alright?” he hears the boxer ask after a couple minutes, to which he nods. “Yeah.”

 

He looks up and finds Jeno already looking at him. The boxer leans down, and kisses him tenderly on the lips. And when they pull away, Jeno doesn’t take his eyes off of him. And the young heir doesn’t either.

 

Jeno begins to run his fingers through his damp hair, the way he always does, the way he knows Jaemin loves.

 

“How did I get so lucky with you?” he sighs, thumbing over his cheek this time.

 

Jaemin blushes, shaking his head and biting back a smile. He reaches up to place his hand over Jeno’s, keeping it on his face so he can lean towards it.

 

“I’m just as lucky as you are,” he whispers.

 

“Oh, baby,” Jeno breathes out, more than enchanted by the boy in his arms. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

 

Jaemin wraps his arms around him, and Jeno keeps him close. They stay like that for a bit more, before they decide to finally get out of the bath and get dressed.

 

Jaemin decides to stay the night. Jeno lets him borrow some of his clothes. Jeno orders them a box of pizza (that’s been all the rage these days) from an Italian place down the road, and they eat it on the floor by the foot of his bed. Afterwards, they get ready for bed.

 

And then there they are again, under Jeno’s maroon blanket. Fingers running through Jaemin’s hair. Strong arms keeping him close. He feels safe, and warm. Understood, and wanted.

 

Jaemin never really did love. Never really did relationships. He’s too busy being an honor student at his prestigious university, too busy being the only son of a rich businessman. But he’s thrown that all out of the window now, forgotten.

 

All because of him.

 

Jeno Lee. The secret that he treasures, and the treasure that he keeps secret. 

 

No one needs to know. No one needs to hear or see. No one needs to know about them.

 

He has Jeno, and that’s more than enough for him. This is more than enough for Jaemin.

 

---

 

The next day, after Jaemin comes home from school, he’s called by his father to his office.

 

“Sit down, son.” Jaemin complies, and he feels an odd spark of nervousness in him. Had they found out? Still, he tries to sit quietly and maintain his calmness.

 

“Your mother and I have been talking about your work,” Mr. Na begins as he sits down on his chair across his son, his office table dividing them.

 

“My work?” Jaemin thinks out loud. If his father is talking about his work in school, well, Jaemin is well aware that he has excellent grades. He knows he’s intelligent, that’s why he goes to one of the most prestigious universities in the country.

 

“Yes, your work,” his father continues, beginning to read some papers that are on his desk. “You’re on final year now at school, aren’t you?” 

 

Jaemin nods. 

 

“Well, we’ve been wanting to expand our business internationally. You know that, right?”

 

Jaemin swallows, then nods.

 

“We wanted to start in Britain, and it would be perfect if you would be the one to handle the business there. You can leave right after your graduation, so you have lots of time to settle in and learn about the place and people. I’ve already spoken to some good friends there, and you’re all set, Jaemin. Everything is already taken care of, you just need to sign these papers and get on the plane-”

 

“ What ?” Jaemin stands up abruptly, hands clenched into fists as he looks at his father in absolute fear, confusion, and shock.

 

And Jaemin’s father looks back at him, just as surprised.

 

“What’s wrong, son? I thought-”

 

“I-I don’t wanna go,” Jaemin says, tears beginning to form in his eyes. “I don’t wanna go, father. I want to stay here.”

 

Mr. Na stands up as well. “Why?” he asks, genuinely confused. “This is the perfect opportunity for you, Jaemin. For us. I know you’ve been studying and working so hard for this moment. What’s keeping you, son?”

 

Jaemin runs a hand through his hair. He realizes he’s never acted this way towards his parents or their business. He always obeyed their wishes. He never questioned them. Never said no. Never disagreed.

 

“What’s wrong, Jaemin?” his father repeats.

 

Jaemin takes a deep breath to hold in his tears. “N-Nothing. I’m sorry,” he says, before stepping back and walking away as quickly as he can. And just as he reaches for the door, his father calls him, “Son?”

 

Jaemin looks back, trying his best to keep it together. “Yes?”

 

“Think about it, okay?”

 

He forces a smile, and nods. Then, he leaves and runs to his room. He gives Jeno a call on the telephone, and tells him he feels sick and can’t come tonight. 

 

He doesn’t come the next night either. Or the next. Or the next.

 

He’s scared. So, so scared. He’s scared he’ll lose it all. He’s scared he’ll disappoint his parents. He’s scared they’ll find out. He’s scared they’ll take him away from Jeno.

 

He’s most scared of losing Jeno. Like standing on the very top of a mountain. 

 

---

 

It’s been a week since Jaemin’s father told him about their plans. And the entire time, he’s only been going to school, attending meetings, and coming home. Jeno called him many times, but he always said he was tired and not feeling well. But he still answered all of his calls, because Jeno’s voice brought him comfort.

 

Like tonight as he hugs his knees on his bed, telephone by his ear. He’s so close to breaking. So close to losing it all because he wants to be with Jeno so badly. But he’s undecided and so confused and he doesn’t know what to do.

 

Jeno asks about his day, and he answers as minimally as he can. Spares him as little detail as possible, shows him less sides of his life. Even if he wants to tell him about everything. 

 

It all hurts too much.

 

And it hurts even more when he hears Jeno sigh.

 

“I miss you so much, Jaemin.”

 

And Jaemin breaks. 

 

“Wait for me,” he says, before hanging up.

 

He grabs his coat, his bicycle, his scarf, and then he rides to Jeno’s apartment in the middle of the night. And when he stands there by the door and is greeted by Jeno the minute he knocks, he can’t help but throw his arms around him. Jeno immediately hugs him back, nuzzling his face into the younger’s neck.

 

“You’re here,” he breathes out, arms tightening around him.

 

Jaemin nods, a tear escaping onto his cheek. “I’m here.”

 

“I missed you so much, Jeno. I’m so sorry.”

 

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.”

 

–––

 

After drinking hot cocoa and talking endlessly about their past days, the two find themselves laying in bed quietly again. Jeno combs his fingers through Jaemin’s hair, and Jaemin listens to Jeno’s steady heartbeat. Slow music plays on the radio, and snow falls outside.

 

“What would you do right now if you knew the world would end tomorrow?” the heir asks randomly out of curiosity, making Jeno chuckle.

 

“If I knew the world would end tomorrow?”

 

“Mhm. Tomorrow.”

 

He feels Jeno shrug under him. “Just exactly this,” he answers. “Just keep you close to me, run my fingers through your hair, cherish the way you feel in my arms.”

 

Jaemin hums, his lips subconsciously curving up into a smile.

 

“What about you, Jaemin Na? What would you do right now if you knew the world would end tomorrow?”

 

Jaemin giggles, before snuggling closer into the boxer. He shrugs, mimicking the older. “Just exactly this too,” he says honestly. “I would just want to be with you.”

 

He hears a low chuckle sound from Jeno’s chest, and it makes him giggle too. Jeno gently pulls him closer, then presses a kiss on his head.

 

Everything is perfect. Jaemin feels so happy. He forgets about everything else. Forgets about all his problems, about the rest of the world. As if the world will truly end tomorrow. And he loves it.

 

He wishes he could stay in this moment forever.

 

But then Jeno whispers something into his hair, and he remembers why he can’t be here. Why he can’t keep doing this. Why he has to stop doing this. Why he has to let go. 

 

“I love you, Jaemin.”

 

The clock ticks. The song ends. The fingers in his hair pause. The arms around him loosen. A minute passes. Nothing.

 

“Jaemin?”

 

He sits up. Panic runs through his body. Thoughts fly all around his brain. His heart beats faster and his palms sweat and his breath quickens.

 

He knows his answer. But that’s what scares him the most. He wants this, he wants this so much. But he knows he shouldn’t. What will his parents think? What will everyone think? What will happen between them? How will this work? How will they work? Will it work at all?

 

His eyes well with tears. His stomach clenches in an ugly way. His head reels and his whole world spins.

 

When he meets Jeno’s eyes, he sees they have just as much fear in them.

 

He opens his mouth to say something. And then he closes it before anything can come out. A tear finally falls to his cheek, and he sees Jeno reach out for him. “Jaemin, I-”

 

But he moves back.

 

One step. Another step. Two more.

 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. And then he’s grabbing his things and running out the door.