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Jeno had the kind of hair that made people stare for a second too long.
It was black and cut into a mullet that somehow looked both deliberate and accidental, like he had once told a barber, do whatever you want, and the barber had taken that as a personal challenge. The front framed his face in a way that made him look sharper than he actually was, while the back fell just enough to give him that effortless, slightly rebellious streamer look that made his viewers type things like he looks like he bites and why is he so pretty when he’s losing.
He was, in fact, losing.
“Okay,” Jeno said into his microphone, voice tight with concentration, “that was not my fault.”
His chat immediately exploded.
[mid872] skill issue
[go_wolf_pack] copium
[Phosfur] he says every round
[madi_paige1125] jeno blink twice if you need help
[doc_sharon] the enemy team is farming you like a side quest
Jeno leaned closer to the screen, eyes narrowed, fingers flying over his keyboard. “I do not need help. I need my team to stop walking into the same corner like they’re being paid to do it.”
He was streaming CS:GO, as he did most nights, with the same familiar setup - dim room, glowing monitor, headset slightly too big for his head, and a chat that treated his suffering like a community event. His viewers loved him for it. He was good enough to be entertaining, bad enough to be relatable, and pretty enough that half the audience stayed for the facecam and the other half pretended they were there for the gameplay.
He had black mullet hair, a sharp jawline, and the kind of expression that made even his annoyed face look like a magazine cover. Which was unfortunate, because right now he was very annoyed.
“Smoke mid,” he muttered. “No, not there. Why would you-”
He died. Again.
He stared at the screen in silence for a full three seconds. Then he slowly removed one hand from the keyboard and pressed it to his forehead.
Chat, of course, became unbearable.
[Deathclaw31] HE’S DONE
[Deathclaw31] THE HAND TO FOREHEAD IS CRAZY
[SpottedNigel] someone check on him
[JOHN_CROFT] he’s about to become a villain origin story
[Phosfur] jeno when the enemy team has a functioning brain:
“Okay,” he said, voice flat. “I’m muting all of you emotionally.”
That got him a wave of laughing emotes and a few people begging him not to because the emotional abuse is part of the brand.
Jeno snorted despite himself. He was about to queue another match when a donation alert flashed across the screen. He glanced at it automatically, expecting the usual - a meme, a compliment, a complaint about his aim, or someone asking him to say their name in a dramatic voice.
Instead, the message read.
dm me puppy
The donor name was unfamiliar at first glance, but the username made Jeno pause.
renjunreadscrime
He blinked. Then he blinked again. Chat, naturally, noticed immediately.
[EchoUnit1] ???
[EchoUnit1] WAIT
[go_wolf_pack] IS THAT THE CRIME PODCAST GUY??
[chenji_is_real] noooooooo way
[go_wolf_pack] THE PROFESSIONAL ONE??
[kimstra] JENO??
[mid872] JENO WHY ARE YOU LOOKING LIKE THAT
Jeno coughed.
Not a small cough. Not a polite cough. A full, violent, I have just swallowed my own soul cough that made him turn away from the mic and grab for his water bottle.
“Sorry,” he said, voice suddenly rough. “Sorry.”
His face had gone pink. Not a little pink. Not a maybe the lighting is weird pink. A very obvious, very betrayed pink that spread from his cheeks to the tips of his ears.
Chat lost its mind.
[chenji_is_real] OH MY GOD
[markaci] HE’S BLUSHING
[EternalHaVOC] HE’S BLUSHING BLUSHING
[bitch123] WHO IS THIS
[thevibrantpixel] RENJUNREADSCRIME??
[jn_is_my_man33] JENO WHAT DO YOU KNOW
[hxchxn_sun] SOMEONE CLIP THIS
Jeno took a long drink of water and stared at the screen like it had personally insulted him. He knew that account. Not personally, obviously. But enough.
Renjun was one of those creators who existed in a completely different corner of the internet and yet somehow still managed to be impossible to ignore. He ran a crime podcast channel, the kind with clean thumbnails, carefully edited scripts, and a voice so calm and precise that people probably listened to him while folding laundry and solving their own emotional issues. He wore glasses in every video, neat bronze hair always in place, and had the sort of professional, composed presence that made viewers trust him immediately.
Jeno had seen him in clips. In collabs. In reaction videos. In the occasional YouTube recommendations have gone too far rabbit hole.
He was, in Jeno’s opinion, unfairly put together. And now that same person had donated to his stream with a message that was, frankly, insane.
Jeno cleared his throat again, trying to recover his dignity, which had apparently left the building.
“Uh,” he said, glancing at chat. “I think someone’s using that account.”
[hxchxn_sun] SURE JENO
[chenji_is_real] SURE
[bitch123] “someone”
[go_wolf_pack] HE SAID IT LIKE HE DIDN’T KNOW
[Deathclaw31] HE KNOWS
[doc_sharon] HE KNOWS AND HE’S DYING
[titi_is_out_XX] give me sub
Jeno pointed at the screen. “I do not know.”
But he did know.
Because the username was too specific, and because Renjun had a reputation. Not a bad one - quite the opposite. He was known as the polished, intelligent, slightly intimidating crime guy who always looked like he had a meeting in ten minutes and a murder board in his head. The idea of him sending dm me puppy to Jeno’s stream with a donation note was so absurd that it had to be a mistake.
Or a prank. Or, worse, a joke from someone in Jeno’s own community.
He rubbed his face with one hand, trying to think. Then another donation came in. Same account.
please respond ;-)
Jeno made a noise that was halfway between a laugh and a choke.
“Okay,” he said, voice cracking just enough to make chat scream louder. “Okay. That’s enough.”
He ended the stream ten minutes later with the excuse that he was tired and needed to preserve his mental health, which was true, though not in the way his viewers thought.
The second the stream ended, his room went quiet. Jeno sat back in his chair and stared at the monitor. Then he covered his face with both hands.
“Oh my God,” he muttered to nobody. “That was Renjun.”
He knew it was Renjun.
He knew it because the username was too on - brand, because the donation note had been too weirdly specific, and because Renjun was one of the few creators big enough that Jeno’s audience would immediately recognize him. Also, because Jeno had seen enough of his content to know that the man was not the type to send chaotic messages like that on purpose.
Which meant someone else had used his account. Jeno lowered his hands and looked at the empty chat replay on the screen.
He should probably ignore it. He should definitely ignore it.
Instead, he opened his browser, found Renjun’s channel, and stared at the latest upload thumbnail for a long moment. Renjun, in glasses, looking calm and composed, with a title that read.
The Case of the Vanishing Heirloom: A Family Mystery That Turned Dark
Jeno clicked on the video, watched for thirty seconds, and then paused it.
“Why are you like this,” he whispered to the screen, though whether he meant Renjun or himself was unclear.
Mark had made a mistake.
Not a huge one, in his opinion. Just a small, harmless, technically funny mistake.
He had been hanging out with Renjun that afternoon, bored out of his mind while Renjun edited a script and muttered to himself about narrative pacing and the importance of not sounding like a caffeinated robot. Mark, who had the attention span of a golden retriever in a fireworks store, had been half-listening and half-scrolling through YouTube.
Then he saw Jeno’s stream. And because Mark was, unfortunately, the kind of person who believed every impulse deserved immediate action, he clicked.
He watched for maybe five minutes.
Jeno was funny. Annoyingly pretty. Extremely good at making losing look like a personality trait. Mark had laughed at a few of his chat interactions and then, because he was incapable of leaving well enough alone, he noticed the donation button. He also noticed that Renjun’s account was already logged in on the browser.
And then, because the universe had apparently decided to test everyone involved, Mark thought, what if I send something stupid?
So he did.
He typed the note, hit send, and immediately regretted it. Not because it was mean. Not because it was offensive. Just because it was the kind of thing that would be funny for exactly one second and then become a problem.
When Jeno reacted like he had been struck by lightning, Mark nearly dropped his phone. He watched the stream replay in horror, eyes wide, as Jeno coughed, blushed, and looked like he wanted to evaporate into the floor.
Mark whispered, “Oh no.”
Renjun looked up from his script. “What?”
“Nothing.”
Renjun narrowed his eyes. “Mark.”
Mark froze. Renjun had the kind of gaze that made people confess things they hadn’t even done yet. It was one of his many talents. He could make a person feel like they were being cross-examined by a very elegant librarian.
Mark swallowed. “I may have done a thing.”
Renjun set his pen down slowly. “That is never a good sentence.”
“It was funny at the time.”
“That is also never a good sentence.”
Mark winced. “I used your account.”
Renjun stared at him. Mark rushed on. “Not for anything bad! Just, there was a donation thing on Jeno’s stream and I sent a message.”
Renjun’s expression did not change, which somehow made it worse.
“What message?”
Mark hesitated. Renjun’s eyes sharpened. “Mark.”
Mark looked away. “I said dm me.”
Renjun blinked once. “That’s it?”
Mark made a face. “Well. I may have added a little more.”
Renjun’s silence became deeply threatening.
Mark held up both hands. “It was a joke! A stupid joke! There was this inside joke in his chat about some girl spamming him with weird messages, and I thought it would be funny if I used your account because people would think it was you and then…”
Renjun’s face changed.
Not dramatically. Just enough. His brows lifted a fraction. His mouth parted slightly. His ears, which were usually hidden by his neat bronze hair, turned pink.
Mark stared.
“Oh,” he said slowly. “Oh no.”
Renjun looked at him with the calm, deadly expression of a man realizing his life had just become inconvenient.
“What exactly did you send?”
Mark winced harder. “I said… dm me puppy.”
Renjun closed his eyes. Mark immediately regretted being born.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I’m so sorry. I thought it would be funny. I didn’t think he’d react like that.”
Renjun opened his eyes again, and now he looked less offended and more confused.
“React like what?”
Mark made a helpless gesture. “He coughed. A lot. Like, a lot a lot. And then he got all red and ended the stream early.”
Renjun stared at him. Mark stared back. Then Renjun slowly reached for his phone.
Mark’s stomach dropped. “What are you doing?”
Renjun unlocked it with the expression of a man walking toward his own doom. “Checking the stream replay.”
Mark groaned and flopped backward onto the couch. A minute later, Renjun was watching the clip. He saw Jeno’s face change. Saw the cough. Saw the blush. Saw the way Jeno had looked straight at the camera like he had been personally ambushed by a ghost.
Renjun paused the video. He stared at the frozen frame for a long moment. Then, very quietly, he said, “Why did he react like that?”
Mark, from the couch, said into a pillow, “I don’t know.”
Renjun looked at him. Mark lifted his head. “What?”
Renjun’s expression was unreadable, but his ears were still pink.
“Nothing,” he said.
Mark squinted. “You’re thinking something.”
“I’m not.”
“You are absolutely thinking about something.”
Renjun set the phone down with deliberate care. “I’m thinking that you should never touch my accounts again.”
“That’s fair.”
“And that Jeno is either very dramatic or very shy.”
Mark sat up. “He’s definitely dramatic.”
Renjun gave him a look.
Mark amended, “And maybe shy.”
Renjun didn’t answer. But he did pick up his phone again and, after a brief pause, opened Jeno’s channel. Mark watched him from the couch, suspicious.
“Why are you looking at him like that?”
Renjun didn’t look up. “Like what?”
“Like you’re about to write a thesis.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
Renjun adjusted his glasses, which he only did when he was either annoyed or thinking too hard. “I’m just curious.”
Mark narrowed his eyes. “About what?”
Renjun’s thumb hovered over the screen. Then he said, very calmly, “About why he looked like that when he saw my name.”
Mark made a strangled noise.
“Oh,” he said again, because apparently that was all he had left.
Jeno did not think about Renjun for the next three days. This was a lie. He thought about him constantly.
He thought about the donation note. He thought about the way his own face had betrayed him. He thought about the fact that Renjun had probably seen the clip by now and was either horrified or amused or both. He thought about whether he should apologize, explain, or simply disappear into a different country.
Instead, he did what he always did when he was stressed, he streamed again.
His chat, naturally, had not forgotten.
[mid872] WHERE IS RENJUN
[jn_is_my_man33] HE CRIME MAN
[EternalHaVOC] JENO YOU CAN’T JUST BLUSH AND LEAVE
[kitty2344567] WE NEED ANSWERS
[druggedchen1e] HE’S BEEN GONE FOR THREE DAYS LIKE A WIDOWED PRINCESS
Jeno stared at the screen.
“I hate all of you.”
[chenji_is_real] you love us
[jn_is_my_man33] no he loves renjun
[hxchxn_sun] STOP SAYING THINGS
[hxchxn_sun] HE’S GONNA CRASH OUT
Jeno nearly choked on air.
“I do not love-” He stopped. “I do not even know him.”
That was, again, technically a lie. He knew enough.
He knew Renjun’s voice from videos. Knew his cadence, his careful pauses, the way he sounded like he had already organized his thoughts into neat little folders before speaking. He knew he wore glasses because they made him look more professional, and because they suited him in a way that felt unfair. He knew his bronze hair was always neat, never a strand out of place, as if chaos itself had signed a contract not to bother him.
Jeno also knew, with increasing annoyance, that he had been thinking about the man’s face far too much for someone who had never met him.
He was in the middle of a match when his phone buzzed. He ignored it. It buzzed again. He ignored that too. Then, because the universe had a cruel sense of timing, a donation alert popped up on stream. Jeno’s eyes flicked to it automatically. The username made his entire body go still.
renjunreadscrime
Chat exploded before he even had time to process it.
[thevibrantpixel] NO WAY
[druggedchen1e] NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY
[markaci] HE’S HERE
[markaci] JENO LOOK AT THE SCREEN
[markaci] JENO BREATHE
[go_wolf_pack] THIS IS NOT A DRILL
The donation message read.
I think you have the wrong person. But I’m curious why you reacted like that.
Jeno stared. Then he looked away. Then he looked back. His face went pink so fast it was almost impressive.
“Uh,” he said, and immediately hated how small his voice sounded. “Hi.”
Chat was losing its mind.
[hxchxn_sun] HI???
[hxchxn_sun] HE SAID HI???
[hxchxn_sun] HE’S SO DONE
[SpottedNigel] JENO IS SHORT-CIRCUITING
[bitch123] SOMEONE GET HIM A GLASS OF WATER AND A THERAPIST
Jeno took a breath. “I,”
He stopped. Because what was he supposed to say? Sorry your friend used your account to send me a ridiculous message and now I’m apparently incapable of functioning? That seemed too honest. Too humiliating. Too much.
He glanced at the donation again. Renjun had added a second line.
Also, I’m not sure what my friend did, but he seems to have caused a problem.
Jeno’s mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.
Then he typed into chat, because apparently he had lost the ability to speak like a normal person.
[jeno_is_here] hi
The chat immediately mocked him for being unable to form a complete sentence.
Renjun’s next donation came through a few seconds later.
Would you prefer to discuss this privately?
Jeno’s heart did something deeply inconvenient. He stared at the message. Then at chat. Then back at the message. His fingers hovered over the keyboard.
[jeno_is_here] yes
The chat screamed.
[EternalHaVOC] OH MY GOD
[dream07] HE SAID YES
[dream07] PRIVATE DM ARC
[Phosfur] WE ARE WITNESSING HISTORY
[Phosfur] THIS IS THE BEGINNING OF SOMETHING TERRIBLE
Jeno ended the stream five minutes later with the excuse that he had technical issues, which was a lie so transparent that even he didn’t believe it.
The second the stream ended, he sat frozen in his chair, staring at the screen. Then his phone buzzed. A direct message request. From Renjun.
Jeno stared at it for so long that the screen dimmed. He tapped it. The message was short.
[r_huang] Hi. I think my friend owes you an apology.
Jeno stared at the text. Then, because his brain had apparently left the chat, he typed back.
[jeno_is_here] hi
He immediately wanted to throw his phone into the ocean.
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
[r_huang] That’s a very confident greeting.
Jeno made a sound of pure despair and buried his face in his hands. Renjun, for his part, was having a very strange day.
He had expected embarrassment. Maybe annoyance. Possibly a polite, awkward exchange where Jeno explained that the donation had been a joke and Renjun would say something equally polite and awkward in return.
He had not expected Jeno to sound like he was one sentence away from combusting. He also had not expected to find that strangely charming. Which was inconvenient.
Renjun was not a man who enjoyed inconvenience. He liked structure. He liked schedules. He liked his scripts, his notes, his glasses, his neat desk, and the comforting predictability of his own life. He liked knowing what to expect.
Jeno, apparently, was not going to cooperate with that.
Mark was watching him from across the room with the expression of someone who had already decided this was his fault and was now waiting to be punished for it.
Renjun ignored him and typed another message.
[r_huang] I’m sorry about the donation. My friend Mark is an idiot.
The reply came almost instantly.
[jeno_is_here] i know
[jeno_is_here] he used your account
[jeno_is_here] yes?
Renjun sighed.
[r_huang] Yes.
[jeno_is_here] i figured
[r_huang] You figured that after the puppy part?
Jeno did not reply for a full minute. Renjun could practically hear the panic through the screen.
[jeno_is_here] i would like to formally state that i was not prepared for that D-:
Renjun stared at the message. Then, to his own surprise, he laughed. It was a small laugh, but genuine.
Mark looked up sharply. “What?”
Renjun didn’t answer right away. He was too busy looking at the chat bubble like it had personally entertained him. Jeno sent another message.
[jeno_is_here] also i was not blushing
Renjun’s eyebrows lifted.
[r_huang] You were absolutely blushing.
[jeno_is_here] no i wasn’t >:-(
[r_huang] You coughed like you were being attacked by the concept of me.
Renjun regretted the sentence the second he sent it. Not because it was wrong. Because it was funny. And because Jeno took so long to reply that Renjun could almost feel the other man’s mortification through the screen.
[jeno_is_here] that is a very rude yet accurate thing to say :-<
Renjun smiled to himself. Mark, who had been watching this exchange with the growing horror of a man witnessing a car crash in slow motion, pointed at the phone. “Why are you smiling?”
Renjun looked up. “I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I’m not.”
“You are absolutely smiling.”
Renjun adjusted his glasses. “Mark, if you say one more word, I will make you apologize in person.”
Mark went pale. “No.”
Renjun looked back at his phone. Jeno had sent another message.
[jeno_is_here] can i ask you something
Renjun’s pulse did something mildly annoying.
[r_huang] Sure.
[jeno_is_here] are you always this calm or are you just trying to make me worse on purpose D-:
Renjun stared at the screen. Then he laughed again, this time louder.
Mark made a noise of alarm. “What did he say?”
Renjun didn’t answer immediately. He was too busy typing.
[r_huang] I’m usually calm. But I’m beginning to think you’re easy to fluster.
The reply came after a longer pause this time.
[jeno_is_here] i hate that you’re right :-<
Renjun leaned back in his chair. He should probably stop. He should definitely stop. Instead, he typed.
[r_huang] Good to know.
The next week became, in Jeno’s opinion, a complete disaster.
Which was to say, it became a series of increasingly frequent messages, accidental voice notes, and one very unfortunate mutual agreement to just clear up the misunderstanding that somehow turned into a two-hour conversation about everything except the misunderstanding.
It started with an apology. It ended with Jeno learning that Renjun had a dry sense of humor hidden under all that professionalism, and Renjun learning that Jeno was much softer in private than he was on stream.
Jeno, for example, was very good at teasing his chat, but terrible at receiving it. Renjun discovered this when he sent a message that simply read.
[r_huang] Your viewers are very dramatic.
[jeno_is_here] they are emotionally unstable and i support them B-)
[r_huang] That sounds like a confession.
[jeno_is_here] it is not :-P
[r_huang] You’re defending them like a proud father.
[jeno_is_here] stop
[jeno_is_here] :-(
[r_huang] You’re blushing again, aren’t you?
Jeno did not answer for ten minutes. When he finally did, it was.
[jeno_is_here] i am going to block you
Renjun, who had been smiling at his phone like an idiot, nearly dropped it. He had not expected this.
Not the banter, exactly. That part made sense. What he had not expected was how easy it felt to talk to Jeno once the initial embarrassment wore off. Jeno was funny in a way that was less polished than Renjun’s own humor, more impulsive and reactive, but it worked. He was warm under the teasing, and when he relaxed, he had a kind of earnestness that made Renjun’s chest feel oddly light.
He also had a habit of typing like he was trying to outrun his own thoughts. Renjun found that endearing. Which was, again, inconvenient.
Mark noticed, of course. Mark noticed everything and had the survival instincts of a raccoon in a kitchen.
One evening, after Renjun had spent twenty minutes staring at his phone with a faint smile, Mark leaned over the back of the couch and said, “You like him.”
Renjun didn’t look up. “No, I don’t.”
Mark made a skeptical noise. Renjun finally glanced at him. “Why are you like this?”
“Because I’m right.”
“You are not right.”
Mark folded his arms. “You’ve been smiling at your phone for three days.”
“I smile at my phone all the time.”
“Not like that.”
Renjun adjusted his glasses. “Like what?”
“Like you’re waiting for a text from a crush.”
Renjun went still. Mark’s eyes widened. “Oh my God.”
Renjun’s expression became very calm, which was how people knew he was about to become dangerous.
“Mark.”
Mark backed up a step. “I’m just saying-”
“Do not finish that sentence.”
Mark held up both hands. “Fine. But if you end up dating him, I want credit.”
Renjun stared at him. Mark grinned nervously. “Too soon?”
“Yes.”
“Fair.”
Jeno, meanwhile, was spiraling in the privacy of his own apartment.
He had not intended to become emotionally invested in a crime podcast YouTuber with neat bronze hair and glasses. That had not been on his schedule. He had planned to stream, sleep, repeat, and maybe occasionally eat something that wasn’t instant noodles.
Instead, he was now checking his phone every six minutes like a teenager waiting for a crush to text back. Which was humiliating.
He told himself it was just because Renjun was interesting. Smart. Funny. Easy to talk to. A little intimidating in a way that made Jeno want to impress him, which was deeply unfair because Jeno did not usually care what people thought of him beyond the usual please don’t clip that level.
But Renjun was different.
Renjun listened. Renjun asked questions. Renjun remembered things Jeno said in passing, like the fact that he preferred iced coffee over hot, or that he hated when people called him cute on stream because it made him want to disappear into the floor. Renjun had replied to that last one with:
[r_huang] Noted. I’ll call you devastating instead.
Jeno had stared at that message for a full minute before putting his phone face down on the table and walking away from it like it had become too powerful to handle. He was in the middle of a stream one night when chat started acting strange again.
[SpottedNigel] renjun is here
[madi_paige1125] HE’S HERE
[madi_paige1125] LOOK AT DONATIONS
[hxchxn_sun] JENO DON’T PANIC
[chenji_is_real] TOO LATE HE’S PANICKING
Jeno narrowed his eyes at the screen. “What are you talking about?”
Then the donation alert popped up.
I’m not here to embarrass you this time.
Jeno made a noise that was not quite a laugh and not quite a cry. Chat, naturally, became unbearable.
[thevibrantpixel] HE’S BACK
[thevibrantpixel] THE CRIME MAN RETURNS
[EchoUnit1] JENO’S SOFT LAUNCHING A NERVOUS BREAKDOWN
[druggedchen1e] HE LOOKS LIKE HE’S ABOUT TO PASS AWAY
Jeno covered his face with one hand. “Why are you doing this to me?”
Renjun’s next donation appeared.
Because you’re entertaining.
Jeno lowered his hand and stared at the screen. Then he said, very quietly, “That’s not fair.”
Chat immediately noticed the tone.
[jn_is_my_man33] OH???
[jn_is_my_man33] OH???
[kimstra] WHAT WAS THAT
[Phosfur] JENO WHAT WAS THAT TONE
[f3grenjun] SOMEONE WRITE THIS DOWN
Renjun, apparently, was not done.
Also, Mark says hi.
Jeno froze. Then he sat up straighter.
[jeno_is_here] mark was there?
[r_huang] Unfortunately.
[jeno_is_here] tell him i hate him >:-(
[r_huang] He says that’s fair.
Jeno was smiling now, despite himself. He tried to hide it by looking at the game, but chat had already seen enough.
[dream07] HE’S SMILING
[dream07] HE’S SMILING FOR RENJUN
[jn_is_my_man33] THIS IS NOT A DRILL
[kitty2344567] WE ARE WITNESSING A ROMCOM
Jeno muttered, “I hate all of you,” but he was laughing too. Renjun’s final donation came through a moment later.
You’re much nicer when you’re not trying to sound cool.
Jeno’s entire face went hot. He nearly missed the next round because he was too busy trying to decide whether to be offended or flattered. He settled on both.
[jeno_is_here] i am always cool
[r_huang] That’s not what I said.
[jeno_is_here] you’re impossible
[r_huang] And who’s calling back?
Jeno stared at the message. Then, because he had apparently decided to become a man with no self-preservation, he typed.
[jeno_is_here] maybe i like talking to you
The chat went silent in the way only a live audience can go silent when they realize they are about to witness something important. Then it exploded.
[kimstra] OOOOOOH
[kimstra] OOOOOOH HE SAID IT
[titi_is_out_XX] JENO YOU CAN’T JUST DROP THAT AND KEEP PLAYING
[druggedchen1e] THIS IS ILLEGAL
Jeno’s hand slipped on the mouse. He missed a shot. Then another. Then he died. He stared at the screen in horror. Renjun’s response came a few seconds later.
[r_huang] I like talking to you too.
Jeno forgot how to breathe. After that, things changed.
Not all at once. Not dramatically. There was no grand confession under rain, no cinematic music, no sudden declaration that solved everything. Instead, there were messages that became longer, calls that lasted too late into the night, and a growing sense that both of them were circling something neither wanted to name too quickly.
Renjun learned that Jeno was softer than his stream persona suggested. He was still sarcastic, still quick with a joke, still capable of making his chat scream with a single raised eyebrow, but off-camera he was gentler. He asked questions with real interest. He remembered details. He sent photos of his coffee with captions like this tastes like regret and i think i’m being punished.
Renjun learned that Jeno laughed with his whole face when he was genuinely amused.
Jeno learned that Renjun’s professionalism was partly a shield and partly just who he was. He liked order, yes, but he also had a wicked sense of humor that came out when he was comfortable. He sent Jeno absurdly dry one-liners. He made fun of Mark with the precision of a surgeon. He once sent Jeno a voice note of himself reading a ridiculous crime headline in a solemn documentary voice, and Jeno had laughed so hard he had to mute himself on stream.
They also learned, slowly and carefully, that the other was not as intimidating as first impressions suggested.
Renjun, for example, was not actually cold. He was just composed. There was a difference. A very important difference, Jeno decided, especially after Renjun sent him a photo of himself in glasses and a sweater, hair slightly messier than usual, with the caption.
Mark says I look less like a professor and more like a tired librarian.
Jeno stared at the photo for a full ten seconds. Then he typed.
[jeno_is_here] mark is wrong
[r_huang] About what?
Jeno regretted everything immediately.
[jeno_is_here] nothing
[r_huang] Jeno.
[jeno_is_here] you look nice
There was a pause.
[r_huang] Nice?
Jeno could practically hear the smile in the word. He groaned and buried his face in a pillow.
[jeno_is_here] you know what i mean… :<
[r_huang] I do.
[jeno_is_here] stop being smug
[r_huang] I’m not smug.
[jeno_is_here] you are absolutely smug
[r_huang] You’re the one blushing over a photo.
Jeno threw the pillow across the room.
Mark, meanwhile, had become the unwilling witness to a slow-motion disaster of his own making.
He had not meant to start anything. He had meant to make a joke. A stupid, harmless joke. Instead, he had apparently introduced two emotionally repressed internet personalities to each other and now they were exchanging messages like they were in the middle of a very soft, very embarrassing courtship.
He complained about it constantly.
“You know,” he told Renjun one afternoon, “I could have been a normal friend.”
Renjun didn’t look up from his laptop. “You are not capable of being normal.”
“That’s rude.”
“It’s accurate.”
Mark sighed dramatically. “I just want credit for your love story.”
Renjun finally looked at him. “There is no love story.”
Mark gave him a flat look. Renjun looked away first.
Mark grinned. “There it is.”
Renjun muttered, “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet,” Mark said, “I’m right.”
Renjun did not answer.
But later that night, when Jeno sent him a message that simply read i miss talking to you when you’re busy Renjun stared at the screen for a long moment before smiling to himself and typing back.
[r_huang] Then stop being patient and call me.
Jeno called him within thirty seconds. Neither of them knew what to do with themselves. Jeno was pacing. Renjun was sitting at his desk with his glasses on and a pen in hand, as if he might need to take notes on the conversation. Neither of them said anything for a few seconds after the call connected.
Then Jeno said, “Hi.”
Renjun laughed softly. “You already said that in text.”
“I know.”
“You sound nervous.”
“I am not nervous.”
Renjun hummed. “That’s a lie.”
Jeno stopped pacing. “You’re enjoying this.”
“Yes.”
“That’s evil.”
“I know.”
Jeno covered his mouth with one hand, trying not to smile too hard. “You’re really annoying.”
“But you still called me.”
Jeno had no response to that. Renjun’s voice softened a little. “You okay?”
The question was simple. Casual. But something about the way he asked it made Jeno’s chest feel warm.
“Yeah,” Jeno said after a moment. “Just… weirdly happy.”
There was a pause on the other end. Then Renjun said, very quietly, “Me too.”
Jeno sat down. Hard. Renjun, hearing the sound, immediately asked, “Did you fall?”
“No.”
“You sounded like you fell.”
“I sat down.”
“That’s not better.”
Jeno laughed, and Renjun laughed with him, and suddenly the whole thing felt less like a joke and more like the beginning of something neither of them had planned but both of them were starting to want.
By the time they met in person, the internet had already decided they were a story. Not officially. Not publicly. But enough that their mutual friends were unbearable about it, and enough that both of them had become acutely aware of every message, every call, every lingering pause.
The meeting itself was supposed to be casual. It was not casual.
It was a cafe with too much sunlight and not enough privacy. Jeno arrived first, wearing a black jacket and looking like he had spent an hour deciding whether he was overdressed. Renjun arrived ten minutes later, neat bronze hair in place, glasses on, expression calm in the way that made Jeno immediately forget how to stand.
They saw each other. Stopped. Then both of them smiled at the same time, which somehow made it worse.
Jeno lifted a hand in a small wave. “Hi.”
Renjun walked closer. “You’re still doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Looking like you’re about to run away.”
Jeno laughed nervously. “I’m not.”
Renjun’s eyes flicked over him, warm and amused. “You are.”
Jeno opened his mouth, then closed it again. Renjun’s smile deepened just a little. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”
Jeno nearly choked on air. “Don’t say that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ll die.”
Renjun tilted his head. “That seems dramatic.”
Jeno stared at him. Then, because he had apparently learned nothing from all previous interactions, he said, “You’re doing it on purpose.”
Renjun’s expression turned innocent in a way that was clearly fake. “Doing what?”
“Making me worse.”
“I have no idea what you mean.”
Jeno laughed helplessly, and Renjun’s eyes softened in a way that made Jeno’s heart do something stupid.
They sat down. They ordered drinks. They talked for two hours.
It was easier than either of them expected. Easier in the way that only happens when two people have already spent weeks learning each other’s rhythms through screens and messages and late-night calls. In person, the chemistry was still there, but now it had weight. It had warmth. It had the strange, electric comfort of finally matching a voice to a face, a joke to a smile, a text to a real laugh.
Renjun was exactly as composed as Jeno had imagined, but also more playful. Jeno was exactly as chaotic as Renjun had expected, but also more thoughtful. They teased each other constantly, but it never felt mean. It felt easy.
At one point, Renjun adjusted his glasses and said, “So you really did think I was the one who sent that message.”
Jeno groaned. “I did.”
“And you were embarrassed because…”
Jeno looked at his coffee. “Because it was you.”
Renjun went very still. Jeno realized what he’d said and immediately wanted to crawl under the table.
“I mean,” he started.
Renjun’s mouth twitched. “Because it was me.”
Jeno covered his face with one hand. “I hate you.”
“Aww, no, you don’t.”
Jeno peeked through his fingers. “You’re too confident.”
Renjun leaned back in his chair, looking far too pleased with himself. “You’re too easy to read.”
Jeno dropped his hand. “That’s not fair.”
Renjun’s voice softened. “Maybe not.”
Then, after a pause, he added, “But I’m glad it was me.”
Jeno looked at him. Renjun met his gaze steadily, glasses catching the light, expression calm but not distant. Just honest. Jeno’s ears went pink. Renjun noticed immediately and smiled.
“Stop doing that,” Jeno muttered.
“Doing what?”
“Looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you know something.”
Renjun’s smile turned gentler. “Maybe I do.”
Jeno’s heart, traitorous thing, skipped. The rest happened the way good things often do - slowly, then all at once.
They kept meeting. First for coffee, then dinner, then just one more hour that turned into entire evenings. Jeno started showing up in Renjun’s life like a warm, chaotic weather pattern. Renjun started showing up in Jeno’s like a steady hand on the shoulder, a calm voice in the middle of noise.
Mark remained deeply annoying throughout. He took credit for everything. He also, to his credit, was not entirely wrong.
One night, after Jeno had left Renjun’s apartment with a shy kiss on the cheek and a face so red Renjun had to turn away to hide his smile, Mark texted Renjun.
[m0rk_me_in_your_heart] i want it on record that i made this happen :-P
Renjun stared at the message. Then replied.
[r_huang] You made a mistake.
[m0rk_me_in_your_heart] a successful mistake
[r_huang] A mistake nonetheless.
[m0rk_me_in_your_heart] you’re welcome
Renjun put his phone down and looked toward the door Jeno had just left through. He was smiling again. He had been smiling a lot lately. Then Jeno texted him ten minutes later.
[jeno_is_here] i got home safe
[jeno_is_here] also i’m still mad at you for making me blush in public
[jeno_is_here] but i also kind of want to see you again tomorrow
Renjun’s chest felt warm in a way that had nothing to do with the room temperature. He typed back.
[r_huang] Good. I was hoping you’d say that.
[jeno_is_here] are you always this smooth
Renjun laughed softly to himself.
[r_huang] Only with you.
The next time they were together, it was after one of Jeno’s streams.
Renjun had watched the VOD later and, to his great amusement, found that Jeno had spent the entire match slightly distracted, smiling at his screen for no obvious reason, and then nearly losing his mind when chat started asking if he had a special someone.
He had, of course, denied everything. Poorly.
Renjun sent him a message after the stream.
[r_huang] You were terrible at lying.
Jeno replied almost instantly.
[jeno_is_here] i was not lying
[r_huang] You were blushing again.
[jeno_is_here] i was under pressure
[r_huang] From whom?
[jeno_is_here] from you >:-(
Renjun smiled at the screen.
[r_huang] I’m flattered.
[jeno_is_here] i think i want to pursue something with you…
Renjun stared at the message. For a moment, the room went very quiet. Not because it actually changed, but because everything in him seemed to pause around those words. He read them again. Then a third time. When he finally replied, he kept it simple.
[r_huang] I’d like that.
Jeno’s response came after a longer pause than usual.
[jeno_is_here] really? :-O
[r_huang] Really.
[jeno_is_here] even though i’m embarrassing? :->
Renjun laughed out loud.
[r_huang] Especially because you’re embarrassing.
Jeno sent back a single message.
[jeno_is_here] rude >:-(
Renjun smiled, warm and helpless and very much aware that he was, in fact, exactly where he wanted to be.
[r_huang] Come over tomorrow.
[jeno_is_here] okay
[jeno_is_here] also i’m bringing coffee
[r_huang] Good.
[jeno_is_here] and maybe i’ll let you call me cute once
Renjun’s smile widened.
[r_huang] Once?
[jeno_is_here] don’t get greedy
[r_huang] Too late.
And when Jeno showed up the next day, black mullet hair slightly messy from the wind, cheeks already pink because he had been thinking about Renjun the whole way there, Renjun opened the door, looked him over, and said with perfect calm.
“Hi, cute.”
Jeno made a sound of pure suffering. Renjun laughed, stepped aside to let him in, and thought that maybe Mark had been right about one thing after all.
It had been a mistake. A very successful one.