Actions

Work Header

One Hundred Sleepless Nights

Summary:

The truth is that, no matter who came along, in Jisung's mind Chenle always comes first.

Chenle has been Jisung's first choice for over a decade now. So why—why is she here?

Or: Chenle cries over Jisung for the first time.

Notes:

Happy late birthday to The Jsungderman <3
Sorry for the delay, I hope the toxic Chenji is enough to make up for it…A little bit of the crazy toxic Chenji we always discuss :3

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Jisung and Chenle have a rather interesting relationship.

If you ask their friends their opinions on it, you'll be met with two different answers. Half of them will tell you their friends have been dating for years, and the other half will tell you they're excellent roommates and each other's best friend.

Chenle says that it doesn't matter—though he says that phrase a lot.

Not a lot of things matter to Chenle. Not his friends' opinions, not the constant cheating allegations, not the third girl he meets up with that week, and Jisung? It depends on the day.

Simple things can influence which direction their relationship sways. They determine how Chenle feels about Jisung, and it changes every day. Monday? Friday? The weekend? Night or day? Did Chenle have something to look forward to that day—other than seeing Jisung?

The list goes on.

It's confusing to the people around them. There's no real pattern, no true label, and no explanation for any of their actions or the state of their relationship. By now, people have stopped referring to them as a couple, even if they believe the two are dating; it's too complicated.

Jisung says it doesn't matter, but he repeats a lot. He's a mirror of just about anything Chenle asks of him, and Chenle tells him he shouldn't care what other people think about their relationship; it's none of their business.

If Jisung were to describe his relationship with Chenle, he wouldn't confirm or deny anyone's assumptions. He won't deny any dating rumors, although, he doesn't confirm them either.

His answer is always the same. When asked, Jisung will tell you he loves Chenle.

Platonic or romantic, actual love or mere admiration, nobody knows. Jisung isn't sure he himself knows the answer at this point.

But it doesn't matter.

 


 

Today is a Saturday. A day in which, usually, Chenle likes Jisung enough to wake up next to him.

But when Jisung wakes up, the spot beside him is empty, Chenle's side of the bed unmade and his pillow still dented to the shape of his head.

Jisung doesn't understand. They had a great night, did they not? Why did Chenle leave without saying goodbye? It's still early, and he knows Chenle doesn't work until the afternoon.

So why isn't he home?

With a heavy heart, Jisung goes about his day. He does his chores and tries his best not to think about Chenle too much; it will only make him feel worse. But it's easier said than done. There's a pit in his stomach that feels more like a brick of cement, weighing him down with every step he takes.

Why is it always like this?

Why does Jisung wake up alone when he thinks things are finally looking up?

Why does he have to open his Instagram in the morning and see some other person holding Chenle's hand on his private story?

Jisung can't help it—he feels used and wonders if he's just another pawn in Chenle's game he calls his life. What other people think shouldn't matter, but does his opinion also not matter? Do Jisung's feelings not matter to Chenle at all?

It eats away at him the entire day. He's pacing back and forth anxiously as he cleans the house, unsure when to expect his best friend home. Jisung could have called, he could have texted, but after the third time of Chenle telling him off, he quit doing so.

"Stop trying to micromanage my life." Is what Chenle told him last time. It pretty much set the tone, but it doesn't mean Jisung will back down completely.

He knows whatever they have means more to Chenle than he lets on. He just likes the chase—the push and pull. He prefers Jisung begging him for his attention, instead of handing him it on a silver platter.

With this knowledge, despite how many times Jisung is shot down by Chenle, falling from cloud nine face first onto the ground, Jisung always returns.

Jisung knows he can't live without Chenle; he can't even remember the life he had before him. It somewhat feels like Jisung's life only began when he met Chenle. He can barely function without Chenle present there to tell him how to act, what to say, what to do. So he waits for Chenle to receive him with open arms once again. He waits to float back up into the clouds—so high that he can no longer see the ground he crashed down on not long ago—and allows himself to forget about the past.

He won't let the awful, toxic cycle the two of them have evaporate into thin air so easily. It's dysfunctional, but it keeps him stable in a weird, twisted way. That feeling of neglect and loneliness he feels after Chenle leaves is like second nature to Jisung—an agonizing reminder that Jisung needs Chenle in his life. Something that, strangely, makes him feel alive.

 


 

"Why didn't you wait for me to wake up?" Jisung asks, the second he hears the door to their apartment open. He has been itching to confront Chenle all day.

"God damn it, Ji, I haven't even taken off my shoes, and you're already interrogating me." Chenle curses under his breath.

"I'm not interrogating you," Jisung says, defensively. "I'm just asking you a question."

Chenle ignores Jisung as he takes off his jacket and places his shoes underneath the coatrack. In silence he walks past the younger, purposely bumping his shoulder against Jisung's.

"Chenle." Jisung tries again. He trails behind Chenle into their small kitchen.

"Oh my god—Jisung can I fucking eat my dinner? After that you can act just like my ex girlfriend, okay?" Chenle groans. He slams the fridge door open harder than intended. The sound of the lined up, half-empty bottles of wine clinking against each other rings through the apartment.

"I—I'm not trying to—" Jisung sighs. He sinks down on one of the kitchen chairs, tears already forming in his eyes. "I'll wait…"

Chenle doesn't answer him. He ignores the growing tension as he reheats the leftover food from yesterday's dinner—a meal he had shared with Jisung. A dinner that almost felt like a date. The table was set up for two, candles were lit on the side, and the two boys enjoyed each other's company as they ate.

But that was yesterday, a whole day ago, a distant memory. Today is the opposite of that fond memory in Jisung's mind.

Chenle is eating his dinner alone; Jisung's quiet presence barely counts. He just takes bite after bite, eyes glued to his phone.

Jisung wonders what Chenle is looking at right now or who he's texting. Is it the girl from earlier? Or maybe it's just some stupid clips for short-lived entertainment, entertaining enough to block out Jisung's desperation to talk to him.

After shoveling in his last spoonful of rice, Chenle puts his phone down. He gets up and places his bowl down in the sink, not bothering to rinse it. He's not in the mood to wash any dishes right now, Jisung can do them later.

"Okay, I'm done." Chenle stands there, leaning against the kitchen counter, as if sitting down in front of Jisung again to hold a proper conversation is too much of a bother.

The younger doesn't dwell on it. Chenle is always like this. Jisung is just happy Chenle is finally willing to talk.

He repeats his question, quieter this time. "Why'd you leave?"

"I had plans, just forgot to tell you." Chenle shrugs.

Chenle's mood could change so fast, now calm and collected. It always messes with Jisung's head. His best friend had appeared so agitated earlier, an expression so full of fury and rage—like he was one push away from slapping Jisung.

"With a girl." Jisung states.

It isn't a question at this point, they both know it's a fact. Chenle is well aware Jisung watches his story. His close friends list on Instagram consists of just Jisung, Mark, and Donghyuck, for a reason. They don't need to beat around the bush.

Chenle nods. "Yeah, I had a date."

"But why—" Jisung can already feel himself getting choked up just from thinking about it. He hates crying in front of Chenle, it only ever makes their fights worse. "I—I wish you had stayed, if only for a minute."

"Why is it always about what you want, Jisung?"

"It's not— I—"

"It's not what?" Chenle raises an eyebrow.

He doesn't look at Jisung the way he had last night. There's no love or affection behind his eyes anymore, only anger and disdain. Jisung can tell Chenle is already about eighty percent done with this conversation—with him. Jisung knows he's pushing Chenle's patience to the limit, but it hurts. Every look Chenle gives, or doesn't give him, hurts. Every word Chenle utters or refuses to say hurts.

In the lead-up to every single argument or fight Jisung and Chenle have had, Jisung tells himself to remain calm and rational, not to get too emotional.

It never works.

Jisung, desperate to contain his emotions from overflowing and stop his tears, clenches his fists, nails digging into his palms, leaving deep crescent marks. "You said you only loved me…"

"So? We aren't fucking together, Ji!" Chenle retorts angrily. "Who says I love those girls anyway? Even if I did, it doesn't matter."

There it isthe same old phrase.

Last night doesn't matter when it's the next day. Jisung's feelings don't matter when Chenle decides they don't. None of this matters.

No amount of tears Jisung ever sheds will change that.

Jisung should be used to this by now. The harsh words that come out of Chenle's mouth, the bite it has, and the way it sinks its fangs straight into his heart every time.

Venomous words that seep into Jisung's veins.

"You're right," Jisung forces his eyes shut, tears still spilling from the corners of his eyes. His bottom lip trembles as he speaks. "—we aren't together."

Chenle's gaze softens slightly. "Ji… You know I didn't mean it like that." He reaches out to comfort his best friend and wipe away the falling tears, but Jisung weakly pushes his hand away.

"No, you're right." Jisung sniffs. He wipes his own tears with the sleeve of his hoodie. "We aren't together Lele. I'm sorry."

Before Chenle can respond, Jisung sprints towards his room, the sound of a lock can be heard immediately after.

Chenle groans, the scowl on his face no longer directed at Jisung, but himself. Great. Jisung locked himself up again, and it's his fault. He knew he should have stayed ten minutes longer this morning and prevent this annoying breakdown when he had the chance.

Even if Jisung saw him holding someone else's hand, the damage would have been minimized that way. Chenle wouldn't have to listen to Jisung whine and cry about it.

Oh well, there's nothing he can do about it now.

Jisung will get over it, he always does.

 


 

The tension in their apartment has remained thick in the air ever since their fight last week. Chenle would say he doesn't care that it's been four days since Jisung properly talked to him, but he'd be lying. They've gone days, even weeks, without speaking to each other, sticking to a "Good morning." and nothing more. But this time feels different, and Chenle can't figure out exactly why.

Chenle is patient—you have to be when your situationship is Park Jisung. He can deal with the outbursts, the jealousy, the silent treatment, or all of the above at once. But now, all of a sudden, four days feel like a year. Maybe it's because Jisung hasn't been saying his morning greetings. Chenle receives nothing more than a nod of acknowledgment before his best friend leaves for the day.

It feels so unlike the Jisung that he knows—so different from the Jisung who used to cry in his arms because he couldn't bear to not say at least one word a day to Chenle.

It's fine.

His best friend must be extra moody recently with how busy life gets right after the holidays. Jisung never knew how to balance his work and personal life well. His personal life which consists of hanging out with Chenle, having sex with Chenle, seeing his total of two other friends once in a blue moon, and some League of Legends.

Chenle is part of three out of the four activities in Jisung's life. (Perhaps, three and a half.) The first two are obvious, they basically revolve around him.

As for the third, Jisung's friends are also Chenle's friends and they usually hang out as a group. Jisung wouldn't have even met his current friends if it wasn't for Chenle. So, Chenle thinks he plays a rather crucial role in that one as well.

The half is only because they live together. It's nothing special, but it fills in the empty gaps in Jisung's schedule. Chenle is there when Jisung eats dinner, he's there when Jisung takes a shower, (albeit not in the same room) he's there when Jisung brushes his teeth and goes to bed. Chenle's existence is part of Jisung's daily routine, whether they hang out or not.

Some days they even end up in the same bed; but only if Chenle is in the mood.

With their lives so intertwined, it's glaringly obvious when his best friend pulls a stunt like this. It's impossible for Chenle not to notice when Jisung takes one small detail out of his 'give Chenle the silent treatment' routine. It's annoying when he does it, as if Jisung really needs to make a point this time.

Chenle just ignores him right back. He doesn't talk to Jisung after they fight, he never has. Although he is usually the one initiating their interactions, he has no problem putting it on halt. Who does he think Chenle is? Someone who will chase him down, beg him and apologize?

That's Jisung's job.

Of course, after Jisung apologizes, Chenle will be extra nice to him, acting as if nothing happened. They both go through some sort of honeymoon phase after every major conflict. They'll be all over each other, sickeningly sweet and gross—to the point their friends would rather not see them for a week whenever they were going through a phase like that.

But Chenle will never be the one to cry, to give in first; that's beneath him.

After the fifth day of Jisung ignoring him, Chenle's patience starts to run thin. Five days without a single word—a new record. It starts to affect Chenle's life, and it doesn't take long for his friends to notice how irritable he has been as of recent. One of them makes a stupid comment about how there's most likely 'trouble in paradise' again.

And Chenle hates how they're right.

Jisung is the human embodiment of stability in his life. The one thing Chenle knows he can always rely on—the one thing he has control over. His best friend has been his outlet, in one way or another, for as long as Chenle can remember. It's been years since they promised each other they would be each other's forever. An event that Chenle pretends to have forgotten whenever convenient, but has never actually left his mind.

Jisung promised him, he promised Chenle he would stay by his side forever, so why is he pulling away?

This is an occurrence so alien to Chenle that it feels like he's losing it. Chenle never imagined he would feel the grip he has on Jisung slowly slip through his fingers. Because this—whatever this is—shouldn't be happening. Things shouldn't be like this. Jisung shouldn't act like this.

It's not right.

However, Chenle may have freaked out a little too early. At least, that's what he thinks after reading Jisung's last text. Don't go into the kitchen when you get home. Is what the text reads.

A bit vague, and rather odd without an explanation, but Chenle doesn't care. Jisung reached out first, meaning everything is back on track.

 


 

Chenle lies sprawled out on the couch after a long day. Somehow, he let Jaemin talk him into going to the gym with him after class. Something Chenle quickly found out is not for him. His entire body hurts, and he refuses to move, other than tilting his head to look at the TV from an awkward, sideways angle.

The boy has already forgotten about Jisung's message from earlier, after such a grueling workout. So when he starts to feel a bit hungry, Chenle walks straight into the kitchen, no hesitation.

He freezes at the sight of their dinner table beautifully set up. A red tablecloth covers the surface, their finest plates and wine glasses placed on top, and a full bouquet of red roses is on the table in a tall glass—something Jisung would always use instead of just buying a vase.

It's clear this is why Jisung had told Chenle not to come into the kitchen, he was busy setting up dinner. Chenle smiles at the sight. He knew Jisung would come around; he always does. Though, he doesn't see Jisung anywhere. And now that he thinks about it, he hasn't heard from him either. Chenle doesn't think too much of it. He fills one of the wine glasses with water and sits down at the table to wait. Jisung is likely picking up their dinner, he's not the best cook, after all.

When Chenle hears the door handle, he immediately perks up. After so long without speaking a single word to his best friend, he's a lot more excited to have a little dinner date—he'll forgive Jisung after this.

"Ji, what are—" Chenle pauses abruptly. His question of: What are we going to eat? interrupted by the sight of a girl standing behind Jisung, walking into their apartment as if she owns it.

"Oh, Chenle…" Jisung mutters awkwardly. "I didn't think you'd, uh, come in?" Jisung walks further into the kitchen, allowing Chenle to get a better look at the girl Jisung took home with him.

Chenle recognizes her—how can he not?

The beautiful girl behind Jisung is one of their high school classmates. Chenle would recognize that combination of bleach blonde hair and glitter lip gloss anywhere.

For years she has had the most obvious, obnoxious, and persistent crush on Jisung. She was obsessed with the boy in high school; everyone knew it. It always stroked Chenle's ego somewhat that Jisung was obsessed with him and never spared her a second glance.

Chenle vividly remembers the time Mina's friends dared her to ask Jisung for his number. Jisung, being the shy and awkward loser he was at the time, accidentally gave her the wrong phone number. Something she would never live down, becoming a running joke among her friend group.

Jisung had realized it the second he uttered the last number, but he was too embarrassed to correct it. Because it wasn't as simple as, "Oh, the 6 should be a 3."

It wasn't his number at all; it was Chenle's.

The number that Jisung called on a daily basis, the number he memorized before he could even remember the first few digits of his own phone number.

Chenle wasn't aware of what Jisung had done the day prior, not until Mina had messaged him—under the presumption he was Jisung. An awkward encounter, and a humiliating wake up call for Mina.

Jisung was a flustered mess when Chenle confronted him about it, confused and taken aback that his best friend would reject someone so cruelly instead of just saying no. But the truth of the situation was even better than Jisung purposely giving out his friend's phone number to reject girls. The truth is that, no matter who came along, in Jisung's mind Chenle always comes first.

Chenle has been Jisung's first choice for over a decade now. So why—why is she here?

Ever since that phone number incident, she has resented Chenle. For both his rather mean, response to her text, and for 'stealing' Jisung away from her. From the rapid change in her mood as soon as she spotted Chenle, to her piercing gaze as she stares him up and down in disgust, Chenle is confident she still feels that way.

Chenle feels nauseous watching her wrap her hands around Jisung's arm. He can hear her whiny voice, but he can't make out what she's asking, his eyes fixated on where her hands touch Jisung's skin.

Jisung doesn't push her. He doesn't complain. Instead, he leans in closer to whisper into her ear—as if Chenle isn't allowed to hear.

"What is she doing here?" Chenle snaps, miserably failing to hide that he's slowly losing his cool.

Jisung, however, doesn't appear to pick up on Chenle's disappointed tone, or maybe he doesn't care. He does the stupid head tilt he always does when he seems lost or confused, which Chenle always adored. But he can't care about that right now—not when he feels like he's about to lose it—forced to watch Mina hang off his best friend.

"We have a date…" Jisung says, gesturing to the table Chenle is sitting at and still holding the almost empty wineglass. A lip stain of lip balm decorating the rim of the glass reserved for Jisung's date, for Mina, not Chenle.

Chenle stares at Jisung, stunned, blood rushing all the way to the tips of his ears. He has never felt more embarrassed standing in front of Jisung than right this moment. Completely mistaking the situation, making a fool out of himself in front of someone he thought he would never see again. Chenle had been so convinced this dinner—this date—was for him, another one of Jisung's many apologies.

Time keeps ticking, yet the world around Chenle feels frozen in time. Chenle's brain unable to keep up with the scene unfolding in front of him. Everything moves so fast, but so slow at the same time. Before he can even process any of it, Mina turns Jisung's face toward her and presses her lips against his. All movement in front of him plays out in slow motion, prolonging the stinging pain in Chenle's chest like a sick, twisted joke.

Mina kisses Jisung passionately, but she keeps her eyes wide open. Jisung blissfully unaware of this, his own eyes fluttered shut.

But Chenle notices—she wants him to notice. She looks him straight in the eye as she leans deeper into the kiss, taunting him. Her eyes full of fury, desperate to assert dominance in Chenle's own home. The lingering resentment and hatred she's garnered for Chenle over the years radiating off of her. The resentment she has for Chenle for having Jisung under his control for years; control she's literally, and figuratively, sucking out of his best friend with one simple kiss.

And for the first time in their friendship, Chenle feels lost.

It feels like the balance of their friendship has been thrown off and Chenle has lost all control. He's unsure where they stand now, how Jisung feels about him. Which is confusing, when once upon a time, it used to be so blatantly obvious that Chenle never had to ask. Jisung wore his heart on his sleeve, and Chenle knew the other long enough to easily read his best friend like an open book. One glance at the younger's face and he knew exactly how the other felt.

But now, Chenle keeps searching. His eyes keep darting from Jisung's lips—plump and soft, to his shoulders—relaxed and bumping against Mina's as she pulls him closer, to his hands—skin to skin with someone who isn't Chenle.

Chenle keeps looking for the Jisung he knows, but he can't find him. Every path he takes, he hits a roadblock, gets lost somewhere along the way.

The ache in his chest worsens, his head starts to throb painfully as the pressure behind Chenle's eyes intensifies. "I—" he stammers, unable to stop his voice from cracking.

At the choked noise Chenle lets escape, Jisung detaches himself from his date and looks up at him. Chenle rarely cries, it's uncommon for him to be entirely consumed by emotion. Even when he's sad, he barely tears up. But this combination of sadness, betrayal, embarrassment—it has tears prickling in Chenle's eyes.

Jisung is surprised at the tone of Chenle's voice. He's never seen Chenle like this, so vulnerable and choked up. Eyes wet with tears that haven't quite formed yet, but Jisung can tell they're building up. He knows exactly what it's like to be in Chenle's position: convincing someone you're okay when you're far from it, while simultaneously holding back your tears with all your might.

The flash of worry in Jisung's expression forces Chenle's body to spring into action. He swiftly puts the glass down, stands up, and says, "I have to go. Have fun." before speed walking out of the kitchen.

Chenle collapses onto his bed, face first into the soft pillows. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down and stop his body from freaking out. He doesn't want to cry—he shouldn't cry. But the longer Chenle repeats it inside his head like a mantra, the more uneven his breathing gets, small hiccups bubbling up, the first tear absorbed into his pillow case. In no time Chenle is full on sobbing into the fabric, pillow soaked in tears and snot.

It's gross, and lying down face first isn't helping at all. But the boy refuses to move, he refuses to lift his head and face the reality of the situation. Chenle may be slowly, but surely, suffocating himself in his own tears, but it's better than having to experience his tears free falling—gliding past his rosy cheeks before finally hitting the pillow.

No, Chenle would rather choke on his own sobs than have that happen.

Why?

Why has Jisung invited her over? How could he do that to Chenle. how could he humiliate him in front of her of all people?

Jisung should have known that even if Chenle remembered his text from earlier, he wouldn't have listened to it, he would have walked into the kitchen no matter what. Is that what Jisung had hoped? for Chenle to be under the impression that this was all for him, only to then physically show him how easily he has replaced his best friend within a mere week.

It's not fair—it's cruel.

What happened to the Jisung who would do anything for him, or put up with anything for Chenle, as long as it means he's allowed to wake up next to him three times a week?

Since when does Jisung care more about himself than Chenle?

 


 

Midst Chenle's silent cries, on the other side of the door, Mina slammed the front door shut so hard, Jisung is sure the entire apartment complex could hear it. Chenle doesn't hear it, though. The sound around him muffled as he's bundled up in between blankets and pillows, wallowing in self pity.

Jisung sighs, he walks over to the table. Plates untouched, candles still unlit, the bag filled with food and drinks standing on the edge, turning colder by the second. Everything beside the glass Chenle had drunk out of was set up the same as Jisung left it before picking Mina up—before he went on a ten minute drive where all he could think about was, "What would Chenle think?"

But Jisung wholeheartedly believed Chenle no longer cared, and that maybe, his best friend had never cared. He thought Chenle would want him to leave him alone; stay out of his way. Maybe Chenle thought Jisung was being dramatic and idiotic for behaving as if Chenle owes him exclusivity, when he doesn't. Maybe dating other people so casually on the side had its charm to it, one Jisung didn't have any experience with. Maybe he felt so entitled to his best friends' sole attention because it's the only thing that felt familiar, and therefor, comfortable.

He has no interest in Mina, but she's the first person he could think of who would without issues, no questions asked, agree on a date. And throughout the entire week of talking, Jisung told himself it felt weird because it was so new; he just has to get used to dating again.

In the end it, it didn't matter. It still didn't feel right, because she wasn't Chenle.

Jisung grabs the bottle of wine, he needs a drink. He purposely pours the liquid into the wineglass still stained with Chenle's lip balm, under the guise and mental justification that it's only to avoid creating more dirty dishes and it's the glass closest to him. He sits at the dining table alone, glass of wine in hand, and admiring the cracks in Chenle's lip print left on the other side of the glass.

Chenle is a habit he can't get rid of, one stubborn and so set in stone that it feels wrong to take him out of the picture. Jisung always thought that was it, at least, for him. For Jisung it was familiarity and stability. For Chenle, he thought it was convenience more than anything else.

Jisung is always there, looming behind Chenle when they're in a crowd, sat by Chenle's side when they're with friends or family. And although familiar, it was also convenient. Chenle didn't have to ask Jisung to be there, to come back to him, he just always did. If Chenle didn't want to do something ,Jisung was there to do it for him. If Chenle wanted to hang out, Jisung would drop everything he was doing, or rearrange his schedule to be able to do so.

When Chenle's ex girlfriend broke up with him, Jisung was there. When Chenle felt the emptiness left by her once night struck, the bed cold without another person there, Jisung would somehow find himself in that place instead. When Chenle got bored of going out almost every night to find someone to sleep with, Jisung offered to help—because it was convenient.

He knows Chenle, well, he knew Chenle, like the back of his hand. The yelling, the frustration, the anger—so bad, it turned physical at times—Jisung could see through it.

It hurt like hell. Of course it did. Jisung wants to be enough for Chenle, and his best friend pushing him away every other day is painful.

Physically, Jisung could handle it. Chenle slapping him a little felt more like a cat scratching at your face, nothing Jisung couldn't ignore; it's merely a sign to back off for some time.

Emotionally, he isn't as strong as he lets on. But Jisung was able to push through it. Every time he thought, This is it, Chenle is really done with it, the next morning would roll around. Chenle wouldn't speak to him, not unless spoken to, but he would stare. And solely because of the look in Chenle's eyes, Jisung could cope. Chenle's expression felt like a silent message, some kind of way to telepathically send Jisung's brain signals, ones that told the boy Chenle didn't want to end whatever they had.

Chenle never apologized, but that's okay. He wants Jisung back. He doesn't ask, he doesn't beg, he barely regrets the night before, but he would look at Jisung with an expression that said, "You're not leaving."

Chenle didn't give him that look a week ago, too irritated at Jisung's outburst of possessiveness, flat out refusing to look up when Jisung walked into the living room. Jisung's daily morning greeting laid heavy on the tip of his tongue, hardly able to catch a glimpse of his best friend's face.

It felt like a punch in the gut, hitting ten times harder than any actual punch Chenle has ever thrown at him could. With great sorrow, Jisung bit his tongue and let Chenle have what he wanted; for Jisung to stop meddling in his life.

But had he read the situation wrong? Chenle appeared so… Jisung can't quite put his finger on it. Upset wasn't the right word for it, though, also present somewhere. Once Chenle had spotted Mina behind him, his face had contorted into an expression Jisung has never seen directed at him, but it instantly caused the guilt of it all to creep in.

Immediately after Chenle walked out of the room, Jisung had turned to Mina and told her he suddenly didn't feel well, and she should leave. Evidently, she knew he was lying, angrily storming out of the apartment.

Yet Jisung remains hesitant, unsure whether he should check up on the older or not. He doesn't want to upset Chenle any further, especially when he doesn't know why his best friend is acting this way. He takes sip, after sip, drowning out the doubts in his mind. He should check on Chenle, he decides. If his best friend yells at him, he'll simply pour himself another drink; it won't be the first time.

 


 

"Chenle?" Jisung quietly opens the door to Chenle's room.

Chenle freezes when he hears Jisung's voice, still face down on his bed. He holds his breath, afraid Jisung will hear him cry.

"Chenle?" Jisung asks again, voice sounding closer.

The older continues to hold his breath, but the embarrassment of being caught in such a vulnerable state only makes more tears well up in his eyes.

The silence that fills the room doesn't discourage Jisung. He walks to Chenle's bed and sits at the edge, eyes fixated on Chenle's back. "Talk to me, please?" He begs.

Chenle stirs. He knows he can't hold his breath forever, and Jisung won't leave until he tells him to. He slowly turns on his side, swiftly wiping his face with his blanket. "Don't you have a date to get to?"

"She left." Jisung answers, apologetically.

"Okay." Chenle scoffs. For some reason, Jisung's answer only makes him angrier. Was this a fucking joke to Jisung? What was all of this for if he was going to kick Mina out five minutes into their date? It's starting to feel less like Jisung is trying to move on, and more of an elaborate scheme to make Chenle feel like shit. "Can you leave?" He asks, turning his back again.

"Can we please talk, Chenle?" Jisung tries again. "I don't want to see you cry…"

"I don't fucking want you to see me either, so leave! You didn't have a problem with leaving me alone last week, so why not now." Chenle snaps back.

"That's— I thought it wouldn't matter," Jisung stutters.

"Oh, so my feelings don't matter to you?" Chenle doesn't care anymore if Jisung sees him cry, glaring at his best friend with hot, furious tears streaming down his face. "Right. Got it."

"That's not what I meant, you know that's not what I meant," Jisung argues. "I just… I thought you didn't want to do, well— this, us."

"I never said that." Chenle frowns.

"You implied it…"

"No, I didn't."

Jisung sighs, he knows they won't get anywhere with this meaningless back and forth. "You couldn't even look at me, Lele."

"And you couldn't even say good morning," Chenle bites back, kicking off his blanket. His body running hot from how worked up he's getting; Jisung is pushing his buttons. "Why is it always my fault?"

"I didn't say it was your fault. Now you are the one putting words into my mouth." Jisung's tone shifts. Chenle's words instantly set him off and he can't help but feel defensive.

Jisung never blamed Chenle, if anything, he's always blamed himself. It hurts that the one time he doesn't come crawling back, Chenle accuses him of everything he's usually a victim to.

The 'talk' Jisung wanted to have with Chenle turns into a full blown argument, again. Chenle's voice gets louder after each insult he throws Jisung's way, and though Jisung is upset, he can't bring himself to insult his best friend back.

"I don't want you to date around." Chenle finally admits, staring at Jisung with glossy eyes.

"Why do you even care, Chenle?" Jisung runs a hand through his hair, his bottom lip red from chewing on it. "You date around too, why does it matter?"

"Because you're supposed to be mine!" Chenle cries out.

The silence that follows is deafening. Jisung draws in a deep breath, not expecting the sudden claim over him. He was fully prepared to shout his standard answer, How? back at Chenle. How is it any different when it's Jisung doing the dating?

All of their fights played out the same, every single time. Jisung will be upset that Chenle is meeting up with other people, and the older will tell him it's different—they are different—and Jisung demands an explanation. Demands that always fall on deaf ears, dismissed and ignored with a simple "It just is."

But Chenle doesn't tell him it's different this time. He doesn't tell Jisung to just let it go and accept the lack of answer. He doesn't physically shove Jisung aside and walk out of the door.

Instead, Chenle's small frame is pressed against the wall, trembling and shaking with anger. He watches Jisung closely, eyes bloodshot, tears obscuring his vision. Jisung stares back at him in disbelief.

Chenle never gets this emotional, especially not over Jisung.

"Don't you love me?" Chenle croaks out after not receiving any response.

Those words break something in Jisung. Chenle's small sniffles, Chenle calling him his, it drains out all the fight in him. "You know I do, Chenle…" He reaches out to hold the other's hand. "But you date around too, it's a little unfair, isn't it?"

Chenle lets Jisung take hold of his hand without any resistance, intertwining their fingers together with a sigh. "I already told you, they don't mean anything to me. You're the one I come home to every night, isn't that enough?"

Jisung begins rub small circles on the back of Chenle's hand in silence, still processing everything Chenle is telling him.

"Above everything, you'll always be my best friend. Why do you want to take that away from me?"

"I'm not trying to do that," Jisung shakes his head.

"Yes, you are." Chenle rebuttals. "You didn't say anything to me all week, and I bet if I had asked to hang out you would have said no,"

Jisung, annoyed, puffs his cheeks. He wants to point out that Chenle would never talk to him first after a fight in the first place, but he bites his tongue.

"Since when do you even say no to me, Jisung?" Chenle snarls.

His best friend looks so distraught. He looks so upset and lost whenever Jisung looks into his eyes, and Jisung can't take it anymore. "I'm sorry," He whispers. "I won't— I wouldn't say no to you if you asked, Chenle."

"…Not even for someone else?" Chenle asks in a small voice.

"No, no one." Jisung reassures him.

It's a huge relief to hear Jisung wouldn't pick anyone over him, and with Jisung's apology, Chenle feels a million times better already.

Chenle's tears lessen gradually, and he gives Jisung a small smile. Jisung smiles back. He looks at Chenle with big, pleading eyes, and Chenle knows exactly what the younger is waiting for. As soon as Chenle opens his arms, Jisung shuffles forward, climbing further onto the bed. He rests his head against Chenle's chest, now comfortably wrapped in his best friend's embrace.

Jisung knows Chenle will indulge in his desire to be close after they fight. The comfortable silence that follows the end of an argument is almost a command, a sign for Jisung to obediently wait for his reward—a reward he knows he will get, one he craves. The treat that makes all of this worth it, regardless of how tired Jisung gets.

Chenle can scold him, punish him, berate him and tell him how bad he's behaving. It doesn't matter. The aftermath is all the same; Jisung, wagging his imaginary tail at the abundance of love Chenle will show him right after.

Jisung whines and buries his face deeper into the crook of Chenle's neck. The older can feel Jisung tearing up from the wet sensation on his skin and soothingly pets Jisung's hair.

"Don't cry," Chenle coos.

Jisung lifts his head, pressing a chaste kiss on Chenle's lips. "You're one to talk," he says with a watery laugh. "I just hate it when we fight…"

"I don't like it either," Chenle agrees. "But you said sorry, so it's okay, right? We're okay?"

Jisung nods. He knows they'll be okay, they always have been, but Chenle's words keep replaying themselves in his head. Chenle's claim over him felt like an admission of love. (The closest thing to love Jisung will ever get from Chenle.) He can feel the guilt consume him whole the longer he thinks about how fragile and frantic Chenle sounded during this confession. How Chenle had cried because of him, how their friendship has been so rocky all because of him—because he started to act out of the ordinary.

Jisung had undermined Chenle's love and care for him. He had selfishly concluded that it was better to end things between them, rather than ask Chenle if that's what he wanted. He had assumed the worst of his best friend all because he felt insecure, not knowing Chenle already decided he was his.

How could Jisung hurt the one person he loves so much?

"You know," Chenle pats the top of Jisung's head lightly. "If you want to, you can always make up for it."

"How?" Jisung perks up.

"You know how, puppy." Chenle teases. The pet name tells Jisung everything he needs to know. Chenle chuckles at the pout forming on Jisung's lips. "I know you don't like it"

"It's not that I don't like it," Jisung mutters. "I just wish I could touch you."

Chenle releases Jisung from his embrace. He takes both of Jisung's hands and places them on the boy's own lap. "Well, I don't think you should touch me after you've touched her."

 


 

Jisung finds himself lying on his back on Chenle's bed, hands tied. The pink ribbon that decorated the bottle of wine he had bought for his date loosely wrapped around his wrists. The fabric was flimsy and Jisung could easily rip free from it's grasp if he wanted to. It's less of a restriction and more of a physical reminder that he shouldn't try disobey Chenle's orders.

Chenle had told him he knew Jisung could be good, and there's no need to tighten the restraint. Jisung agrees, he knows he can restrain himself—keep his hands to himself—but it still takes everything in him to not writhe around on the bed.

Chenle is on top of him, straddling his lap, busy scissoring himself open, with one hand placed on Jisung's chest. And Jisung is positive that Chenle can feel his heart thumping rapidly.

Someone being on top of him like this shouldn't be this torturous, and on any other day, Chenle offering to ride Jisung until he cries would make him ecstatic and giddy with excitement. But on those days he's allowed to hold onto Chenle's hips, he's able to trace his fingers over the soft, pale skin of Chenle's thighs.

Right now, all he can do is watch Chenle take his sweet time prepping himself, while Jisung lies here, praying his best friend will finally move onto the next step.

When Chenle sits more upright, exposing the lower part of his body previously covered by the oversized shirt he's wearing, Jisung quickly turns his head and closes his eyes.

At this rate, he will cum before he's even inside Chenle.

He needs to distract himself from the clear view of Chenle's fingers slick with lube—the image of Chenle's pink tip, hard and leaking right in front of him. If it weren't for his hands being tied together, Jisung could easily wrap his whole hand around Chenle's cock.

Jisung just wants to touch Chenle so bad, he feels like he's going crazy. He can't watch the scene in front of him without the bulge in his boxers growing. Every new image or fantasy that creeps into his head is more suggestive and lewd than the first. He's so incredibly turned on, yet unable to touch himself or Chenle.

However, his plan to keep his eyes shut until Chenle is ready to touch him is interrupted by the harsh sting of Chenle's hand coming in contact with his cheek. Jisung gasps at the burning sensation, eyes springing open to look at Chenle.

"Eyes open." Chenle warns.

Jisung whines, "Chenle— oh my god, please just—" He can't help but buck his hips, desperate for any relief. Chenle finally touching him, though rough and painful, only makes his situation worse.

"You think any touch is affection, don't you?" Chenle chuckles.

Chenle eventually takes pity on him and pulls the waistband of Jisung's boxers down, but he still refuses to touch him. At most, Chenle's cock will now lightly brush against Jisung's erection when he bends forward. Jisung's eyes, glossy and unfocused, remain open as Chenle slowly works in a third finger.

"You're so patient," Chenle says, the back of his hand stroking over the red mark on Jisung's cheek.

Jisung preens at the praise. A shiver runs down his spine when he feels Chenle's other hand wrap around his aching cock, rubbing circles over the head with his thumb.

"Please…" Jisung cries, not entirely sure what he's begging for anymore. Anything will do. He needs any touch Chenle is willing to give him; he needs more.

The older mumbles something above him, but Jisung can barely hear the words coming out of Chenle's mouth. Everything passes by in a blur. All Jisung can do is cry, letting out strangled moans when Chenle finally lines himself up.

Chenle leans forward to capture Jisung's lips, swallowing the guttural noise the younger makes as he sinks down. "Come on, puppy, be quiet." He hushes. "We have neighbors, or would you like them to hear you?"

"N—no," Jisung gasps.

The slow pace Chenle sets is painful, punishing. The tight heat, the slick, obscene noises that sound through the room. The way Chenle simply grinds his hips at times, whenever he thinks Jisung is getting too close to finishing. The demeaning comments from Chenle, mixed in with the pleasure and the rough hold on his jaw.

"Would you have fucked her just like this?" Chenle asks, panting.

Jisung shakes his head the best he can in Chenle's grip, the other's hand tightly keeping his head in place. "I wouldn't have—" His sentence is cut off by a hand cruelly pinching his side.

"So, you would have had sex with her?" Chenle spits, his fingers digging into the flesh of Jisung's hip, not caring about the bruise it might leave.

"No!" Jisung exclaims. "I'm sorry, I didn't—" He stutters between small hiccups. "Only you, only you, Lele…"

His best friend lets out a satisfied hum. The fingers that were marking Jisung's skin a second ago are now tangled in the boy's messy hair. "Puppy is lucky that he's cute. Just don't forget you're mine, not again." Chenle snickers.

Jisung nods in agreement. He wants nothing more than to reach out and kiss Chenle again, but he restrains himself. He shouldn't be greedy. He doesn't deserve to take, only receive.

Chenle gradually picks up the pace, the tip of Jisung's cock continuously hits his prostate as he rides him. The constant pressure causes the boy's movements to become less careful over time, less calculated. He's no longer focused on teasing the other for as long as he can. Jisung, already at his limit, thrusts up to match Chenle's rhythm—and Chenle lets him, too lost in his own pleasure.

"Can I come, please" Jisung begs, breath ragged, thrusts getting sloppier.

"Fuck," Chenle pants, equally out of breath. "Yeah, be a good pup and come for me,"

With Chenle's approval, Jisung's thrusts halt, and he immediately comes inside Chenle. His legs shake uncontrollably, toes curling as he does.

Jisung whimpers softly, Chenle doesn't slow down after he comes, despite the boy's protests.

"I-I can't," Jisung's arms tremble, using every bit of power he has left in him to keep them in place.

The impact of Chenle's palm reconnecting with the surface of his cheek echoes a sharp sound through the room.

"You can."

Jisung goes quiet, he holds his breath and lets Chenle chase his own release. Tears prick in his eyes from the overwhelming friction and overstimulation he's forced to endure. The cum makes everything messier, squelching inside of Chenle every time he lowers himself back down.

Luckily for Jisung, It doesn't take long for Chenle to follow suit, spilling white ropes all over Jisung's stomach with a groan.

Shortly after catching his breath and coming down from his high, Chenle unties Jisung's wrists, giving him permission to move freely. The younger's first instinct is to hug Chenle tight, breathing in the scent of milk and sweat that clings to his skin, pressing himself as close as he can to his best friend.

"There, there," Chenle pets his puppy's hair gently, helping him calm down a little. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Okay," Jisung whispers.

His bangs stick uncomfortably to his forehead. Chenle's cum is trapped between their two bodies as he pulls his best friend closer, but Jisung isn't willing to let go.

Chenle is able to peel Jisung off him after some more pets, encouraging him to get them both cleaned up so they can go to sleep. At the promise that Chenle will, one hundred percent certain, stay the night, Jisung loosens his hold. The older knows Jisung will even do all the clean up work for him if he just plays his cards right.

After crawling off of Jisung's lap, he whines about having to move to the bathroom, too tired to move in general. Chenle can visibly see the gears in Jisung's head turn at the implication that Chenle will be out of his sight if he has to go alone. A decision is easily made, and Chenle is lifted off the bed with practiced ease.

The two of them chat about their week as Jisung prepares a bath for them. (Leaving out either of their unfortunate dates.) Chenle sits on the toilet seat, happily kicking his feet, telling Jisung what scent to put into the water.

Once the bath is full, Jisung helps Chenle get in before taking a seat behind him. Chenle lets out a content sigh as his body is engulfed in the warm water, his back flush against Jisung's chest.

Jisung rests his chin on top of Chenle's head, closing his eyes. "Chenle?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you." Jisung professes.

Chenle leans back, a smile on his lips. "I know."

 

Notes:

My twitter
@puppysungs