Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

A month or so later

Jaemin remembers the first time he became aware of the fact that he was different from other kids.

He looked different, which was the first part of his revelation, and his mom acted differently from other parents. During school field trips with their small island school, the field trip moms would look down at him as if they were worried he would do something to convince the other children of bad things, or with pity, which was worse. 

Jaemin’s mom never picked him up on time, and he became very good at navigating the island from getting lost while walking home. Sometimes, Jaemin found himself wanting to leave, to go far away where nobody knew him and nobody cared what he was or where he lived or what he was good for. It’s easier now that Jaemin has people he can trust, and he has become the adult in the small community that worries for the kids running around late at night. 

But Jaemin still remembers when he was 7 years old and he was looking into the eyes of a boy much bigger than him, and he was being told that he didn’t belong there, that he wasn’t allowed to play with them because he was going to ruin everything for everyone. It could have meant so many things--because the boy had moved there with his family a year before, so to Jaemin, he didn’t belong there either. Jaemin didn’t understand it, he’d always been there, and yet everyone that pushed into his home seemed to think that they were the ones that laid claim to the sand and the sea. 

Maybe the boy was mad that Jaemin didn’t want to fight back, or maybe he was able to sense that Jaemin wasn’t just crushing on girls on the playground. Or maybe he was just mean. Whatever it was, Jaemin remembers looking up at the overgrown behemoth of a kid and feeling singled out—feeling wrong in the deepest parts of himself despite having done nothing to deserve it.

Jaemin thinks of that day, and that boy, when he’s sitting on the edge of his bed late at night, listening to the rustling sound coming from Jeno’s room across the hall.

It’s been a little over a month since Jeno showed up, and in that time it’s been a whirlwind of too many things all at once. Jaemin can’t remember the last time he’s had another person in the house for so long, nor can he think of ever having to care for another person entirely. 

It’s not one sided though. Jeno is great at helping clean when Jaemin is gone (even if he does break a few things), and he’s always willing to catch spiders and… occasionally eat them. It’s another person to share the bathroom with and someone to watch shows with late at night when Jaemin can’t fall asleep. 

What once was a very quiet, very lonely house, now buzzes with an extra life, and Jaemin finds himself needing more and more willpower to ignore it. 

Jaemin knows that to any outside observer, the rate at which Jeno has grown attached to him is concerning. He hovers close to Jaemin and sniffs his hair no matter who is looking, and sometimes when Renjun comes over, Jeno watches them from across the room even when Jaemin says he doesn't have to hangout with them. 

Their conversation in town plays back in Jaemin’s head when those little things become too big to ignore, because the issue hasn’t been solved, and Jeno still thinks he owes Jaemin his life. 

Sighing in his own defeat, Jaemin stands from his bed. His bare feet pad against the hardwood as he makes his way out of his bedroom and to the door across the hall. The shuffling sound is still coming from the other side, but the moment that Jaemin inhales, it stops. 

“Jeno?” Jaemin calls with a raise of his hand, intending to knock but never being given the opportunity. 

The door is swung open before Jaemin can think to exhale his breath, the air puffing out of him like a deflating balloon when shaggy silver hair meets his gaze. Jeno is eyeing him expectantly, shoulders square at attention, and Jaemin can’t help but smile despite himself. 

“Jaemin,” Jeno says before stepping aside from the doorway, making room for him to enter. 

Jaemin hesitates, because his intention was to check and make sure that Jeno is okay and then immediately go back to bed. He has nothing to say, no reason to stick around. 

And yet, Jaemin walks into the bedroom, his old bedroom, and lets the door be shut behind him. 

“Did I wake you up?”

Jaemin turns once he’s in the middle of the room, looking at Jeno with a dismissive shrug of his shoulders. “No,” he says, “I was already awake. Just wanted to check on you.”

This makes Jeno perk up, his eyes illuminating with a glow and his skin flushing that lovely pink. Jaemin knows what the pink means by now, or at least assumes it has something to do with him. Jeno only ever turns pink when Jaemin is nearby—from what Renjun has said, anyway. 

“I was looking at these.”

Jeno points to the wall of polaroids from Jaemin’s childhood, rows upon rows of pictures that he’d taken at the beach or in the fancy shopping centers from one of the big islands. They sit above a dresser that’s still painted with sailboats in an offensive baby blue. His mom had hand painted almost everything in this room, and it sits like a shrine to a life he hardly remembers. 

“Oh, yeah. I know they’re a little… juvenile?” Jaemin asks more than tells, focusing on one particular image of a man with a sunburn laying out on the sand, his ice cream cone melting onto his cherry-red chest. “I took them all when I was little.”

Jeno hums in understanding, nodding his head even if his features are contemplative. 

“I wouldn’t say they’re childish,” Jeno replies with that same scrutiny, eyes transfixed on the display. “I was going to say that they look human. Which reminds me—”

Before Jaemin can say anything else, Jeno is turning towards his bed that sits on the far end of the room by the window. All of his sheets are tangled or on the floor, and Jaemin really hopes he’s not sleeping in a heap on the hardwood. 

“I wanted to ask about this,” Jeno says while snagging a book from the end of the bed, prompting Jaemin to get closer once more. 

It's a flat book, large and square. Once Jaemin is at Jeno’s side again, he recognizes it right away, the dark blue cover reminding him of so many things. 

“You wanted to ask about the ugly duckling?”

Jaemin can’t help but sound amused as he says it, because there’s at least two highschool yearbooks still in here somewhere, stuffed alongside picture books of him and his friends. If Jeno wanted to know something interesting, that’s probably where he should’ve looked, but here they are. 

“Yes. I want you to explain it to me,” Jeno says, shrugging. “Why do they call the duckling ugly when he’s just another duck? I don’t understand why you’d tell children this.”

Jaemin bobs his head, as if to both agree and disagree while they sit on the edge of the bed together. It’s fascinating that Jeno is clearly upset by the idea, and he tries not to laugh at how sweet it is. There’s nothing particularly funny, Jaemin is just… endeared. 

“It’s less about the duck being ugly and more about him feeling unwanted,” Jaemin explains while flipping open the book, gently turning the pages until he finds the one where the duckling is alone in the rain. The waxy pages remind him of being little and reading the book alone every night, wondering why it hurt so bad to do so. “See, his mom was so busy keeping track of everyone that he just got lost, it could’ve happened to any of them.”

Jaemin gingerly brushes his fingers over the page, tilting the book slightly to make sure that Jeno sees. 

“But because his siblings were rude to him for looking different, he assumed that his mom didn’t want him because he was the one that was left behind.”

A few more pages are turned, skipping past the duckling crying alone and going on a very concerning downward spiral for a baby duck. Now that Jaemin thinks about it, it’s a little bit awful that children are taught this, and he understands why Jeno is confused. 

“But then his mom comes back and finds him and she tells him how worried she was,” Jaemin continues, showing Jeno the page of the mother duck crying because she found her son. “She never meant to leave him, and she loves him all the same no matter what his siblings tell him.”

Jeno hums at this, taking the book from Jaemin’s grasp to gently shut it. He sets it on the bed behind them, and Jaemin can’t help but wonder how he’s gotten himself into this situation. 

Jeno is warm next to him, so warm and rippling with pink thanks to their shoulders brushing. Jaemin hadn’t even realized they were sitting so close, and it shouldn’t matter if they were, but Jaemin finds that he can’t even look at Jeno from this proximity. His breath is quiet but Jaemin still hears it, and the hand that flexes on Jeno’s thigh looks as if it wants to touch. 

“Did your mother ever make you feel that way?” Jeno asks in a soft voice, head dipping to try and catch Jaemin’s gaze. 

Jaemin can see it in his peripheral, and it’ll be too obvious if he avoids him on purpose. Steeling himself with a breath, Jaemin looks over at Jeno, meeting his eyes with a half-smile. 

“Like I was unwanted?”

“Mm.” Jeno nods his head once, clearly uninterested in interrupting now. 

But Jaemin isn’t quite sure how to answer him. What does one say to that? It’s his biggest cloud that has been raining down upon him since he gained consciousness at six years old. His mother regretted having him, and she was so… sick in ways that Jaemin didn’t understand. The world was unkind to her and she did her best, even if her best was the worst years of Jaemin’s life, he’s alive all the same. How does one repay the burden of life? Jaemin still doesn’t know. 

“Yes,” he says after a brief pause, folding his hands together between his knees. “But I don’t blame her. The man who helped create me was gone before I was born, and it was hard on her.”

In retrospect, everything was hard on Jaemin’s mother. They were surviving off of the sheer luck that nobody was going to let them starve. Jaemin walked to school with whatever kids he could pick up on the way, and when his mom forgot to pay for lunch, the lunch ladies didn’t think twice before giving him something. The community has always been his family when things were at their worst, but Jaemin still looks back with rose tinted glasses from time to time when he thinks about his mother. 

“Helped create you,” Jeno muses, as if rolling the idea around in his head. “You mean human mating, right?”

The term mating makes Jaemin want to laugh again, because it just reminds him of raunchy romance werewolf novels—or raunchy romance alien novels. 

“I guess. Though mating as you think of it is less what happened. mating is like… an intimate choice if you’re equating it to human marriage.”

As Jaemin speaks, he scoots back a bit on the bed, crossing his legs beneath him so his feet don’t get cold. The air conditioner works best in this room because it’s the smallest, and Jaemin has never given much thought to if Jeno thinks it’s cold or not. 

“It’s something that’s intentional for the sake of happiness and pleasure. my parents just… had sex,” he explains further, the words souring on his tongue even as he says them. Jaemin has already dealt with all of this, more than accepting that his absentee father was not his fault, nor his present-yet-absent mother, but the ghost of a sting still lingers. “Sex can be cold and done for nothing but selfish greed. I was made from that, and I think that’s what she saw when she looked at me. She saw him.”

There’s a bout of silence when Jaemin is finished, and he feels the bed dip as Jeno mirrors his position. Their knees are so close that they touch, and Jaemin realizes then and there that Jeno indeed must run hot. His skin is so warm, radiating heat that really makes him look like a lava lamp when he ripples pink, and then dark blue. 

“We are not our creators,” Jeno says while reaching a hand out to rest on Jaemin’s knee. It’s meant to be comforting, and Jaemin smiles softly at him to show his appreciation. “I was born from selfish greed too, but it’s not why I exist now.”

For all that Jeno appears to be stumbling through earth life, he’s so… thoughtful. Jaemin can’t imagine what this must be like for him, how different his world has become now that he’s free, but only by so much. Jeno can’t go wherever he pleases or do whatever comes to mind. He has to be careful, and rely on others to make sure that he’s taken care of. Jaemin is sure that if Jeno weren’t found that night, he’d be locked in some facility by now, being poked and prodded—or sent back to space. 

Jeno has explained that there’s strict rules for intergalactic relations. The American government knows about alien life and the Intergalactic Councilworks with them to keep certain things from, quite literally, blowing up. Jeno himself is an enemy of the Counciljust for simply existing, and yet here he is, comforting Jaemin for having a shitty childhood. 

Maybe to Jeno it’s not a competition of whose pain is worse, but rather a sadness that there is any pain at all. 

“Were you ever a child?” Jaemin asks, deciding that he needs to change the subject or he’ll probably cry. Nothing ever makes him cry, but thinking about Jeno sends all sorts of emotions fraying. 

And it seems an ample enough break in the conversation, because Jeno’s features twist as if he can’t quite answer the question. 

“Sort of,” he says eventually, retracting his hand to gesture at the small scars at the base of his neck. They almost look like a burn, a brand, composed of symbols that Jaemin doesn’t understand. “Because of the nature of my experimentation, I had to be kept in stasis until well into my teenage years. I have small memories from waking up as a child with bright lights and questions being thrown at me, but other than that, not much.”

When put into perspective, Jaemin thinks that he’s happy to have his memories from childhood, even if not all of them are great. Jaemin grew up on the beach, surrounded by the same people that were able to take care of him when his mother couldn’t. There are entire chunks of Jeno’s life gone that he’ll never get back, because they didn’t exist in the first place. 

“I’m sorry.”

It’s all Jaemin can say, because words feel so small in comparison to what Jeno has revealed. It’s one thing to have a bad childhood, and it’s another thing entirely to be who Jeno is.

“I think it’s better that way,” Jeno says. “The kind of things I must’ve gone through would have probably been awful to remember.”

Ugh. This shouldn’t be making Jaemin feel so… warm and fuzzy towards Jeno, but it is. He’s built like a pro athlete and lithe enough to climb trees like a monkey, with hands that are so veiny they should come with a “no sharp objects” warning. Everything about Jeno is agile and set to evade and attack at will, but Jaemin wants to wrap him up in a blanket and tell him everything is gonna be alright.

He can’t though, so he settles for a gentle nudge of his knee, loving the way pink briefly flashes there.

“Then I'm extra sorry.”

Jeno smiles at that, his hand reaching out to gently brush Jaemin’s lower thigh, right where his shorts end. It’s an innocent touch, just comforting enough without being weird. Jaemin doesn’t know why he likes it so much, but he smiles back at Jeno, and the room feels less like it’s filled with ghosts.

“Don’t be. I’m here now.” Jeno removes his hand, taking the pink color with him as he looks around the room. His eyes linger on where they came in, to the display of polaroids above Jaemin’s dresser, and it can’t be helped but to wonder just how Jaemin ended up on his bed. “You should keep taking pictures. I like them.”

Annnd there go the warm and fuzzies again. Damn Jaemin and his bleeding heart.

“Yeah?” Jaemin practically grins, his cheeks flushing with warmth. 

“Yes. They make me feel like I can experience being a human through them,” Jeno says with a nod of his head, looking back at Jaemin with eyes that practically sparkle. “I see your childhood in them.”

Well, when put like that, how can Jaemin say no? Has Jaemin ever been able to say no to Jeno?

“Hm.” Jaemin tilts his head, letting his teeth be covered once more as he at least tries to be a decent, shameful human being. “Maybe I will.”

It shouldn’t feel so nice to give Jeno what he wants, but Jaemin is practically giddy when his strong features warm with happiness all over again. He needs to say goodnight now, and he will, but Jaemin figures it can’t hurt to enjoy just a few more minutes of Jeno’s company.

Jeno grabs The Ugly Duckling and carefully sets it on the floor beneath the bed to allow them more room to talk, and Jaemin hopes it stays there.

🛸 

It’s easier to find a routine once everyone knows what's going on—or at least, has somewhat of an idea as to what their circumstances are.

Yunjin being around makes things a lot more relaxed at least, because she treats Jeno the same way she’d treat any other person that shows up in their lives. Yunjin could probably make friends with a used napkin if you convince her that it has a troubled past, which is probably why her dating history is so questionable—starting with Jaemin himself. 

She’s only been back for a week or so, but it’s been good for all of them, and things are starting to feel somewhat normal. 

“Wow, that’s so sad,” Yunjin says with her sunglasses pushed up into her hair, the sounds of the waves on their quiet stretch of beach not too much for their recap conversation. “So you’ve never been swimming before?” 

Jeno thinks for a moment, still playing with the pile of sand between his spread legs before ultimately shaking his head no. “I’ve fought in a pool before?” It’s a question more than an answer, because Jeno probably doesn’t even really know what swimming is. 

Nevertheless, Yunjin considers it, taking a sip from her water bottle while leveling Jeno’s gaze. 

“Did you win?” She asks, eyebrows perched high in playful inquisitiveness. 

“Of course,” Jeno replies with a smile, and Jaemin feels a quiet sense of pride hum beneath his skin from how well things are going. 

Honestly, Jaemin has been stumbling through each new day, just trying to get through it with as little issues as possible. Jeno can be left alone now, because he knows not to venture out of the house, and he has a decent grasp of the microwave. They have dinner together no matter how late Jaemin gets home, and they’re already on season two of Bones . Life has achieved a layer of normalcy that Jaemin isn’t sure he’s ever felt, and it seems strange that it's all thanks to a man that fell out of the sky.

“Well, I think it’s time to get wet, don’t you?” Yunjin asks as she stands from the beach chair, tugging her sunglasses off and tossing them onto their laid out towels. 

Jeno’s head perks up at the statement, and before he makes any move to follow, he looks to Jaemin. It’s as if he’s waiting to see if that’s okay, or maybe he only wants to get in if Jaemin is going to get in.

Whatever it is, Jaemin smiles to let him know that it’s a good idea, and he beckons Jeno to come to where he’s been wading ankle deep. 

When Jeno stands, sand and seashells come tumbling down around him. He dusts himself off messily, sand flying up into the air and somehow getting in his hair. Jeno is so reckless, but in a cute way, and not in the total-danger-to-have-around way.

It’s also unavoidable that his body is ripped, but Jaemin knew that part. Moisture from the humidity coats his skin in a thin sheen, making him practically glisten with the afternoon sun slowly setting to the west. The sky will be different hues of oranges and reds soon, and Jaemin can’t help but think of those colors on Jeno’s skin.

“I don’t know how to swim,” Jeno says even as he goes out ahead of Jaemin into the water, completely bypassing him as if this is not new at all. “Or maybe I do, I guess I wouldn’t know.”

Jaemin splashes forward, reaching out to grab Jeno’s arm that’s coated with sand and sweat to stop him from going further. His muscles flex beneath Jaemin’s touch, and that pretty pink color swirls just as it always does.

“Well how about we try together before you go and drown yourself?” Jaemin offers with a nervous laugh, wondering if this is such a good idea. The waves aren’t too bad, the late afternoon tide keeping a steady rhythm.

This section of beach also has a sandbar that keeps the worst of the waves down, but an inexperienced swimmer shouldn’t just run out into the ocean, let alone an alien that Jaemin still doesn’t quite understand.

“How do you swim?” Jeno asks while walking out over the sandbar with Jaemin, their arms now both at their respective sides. And Jaemin gets the impression that the question is far from general. Jeno wants to know how he swims, Jaemin, and that somehow seems harder to answer. 

“Well, I surfed for a while in high school, so I’m a pretty good swimmer, but—” Jaemin pauses, glancing behind them to see the boogie board that’s sitting at Renjun’s feet. He’s using it as a leg rest, and Jaemin decides not to bother grabbing it. “Here, I’ll just show you.”

This is something that Jaemin at least understands, the rush of salty water and the brief shock of cold as he jumps into the first oncoming wave feeling much less daunting than looking at Jeno. The sandbar slopes off but his feet still find ground, and waves come up around his shoulders to try and push him back the way he came.

“To tread in the water, you kick your feet like you’re running, and move your arms like this,” Jaemin calls to Jeno from the few feet between them, the ocean sounding much louder now that he’s in it. “And then to swim you kind of just… uhm…”

Okay, maybe Jaemin isn’t the best teacher, which is ironic, because instructing people is his job. The best he can do is paddle out a bit more and do a standard front crawl stroke, swimming away from Jeno and hoping that he gets the idea. If anything, it’s just fun to do, and Jaemin stops when he feels he’s demonstrated enough before righting himself to turn and find Jeno.

Jaemin must be a better teacher than he thought, because Jeno is not where he left him, and the water splashes right in front of him as that head of silver hair surfaces through the waves. Jeno makes a small gasp for breath, his skin glittering with wetness that sticks to his eyelashes. The suddenness of him startles Jaemin so much that he forgets to tread, and he gets caught by an oncoming wave.

Before Jaemin even gets the chance to panic, a strong arm is wrapped around his waist, hoisting him up and out of the water. He coughs and sputters the salt water away, hands naturally finding Jeno’s overheated shoulders. Jeno runs so warm, even in the cold water, and Jaemin can hardly find it in himself to be embarrassed when his eyes blink open to see Jeno staring down at him.

“Don’t drown on yourself,” Jeno says with a soft smile, each blink making the water drip down his strong cheeks. Everything about Jeno is strong, impossibly so, and Jaemin feels dizzy with how close they are.

“I’m fine,” Jaemin mutters under his breath, his cheeks warming from the sun and his own thoughts. His own body is well taken care of, the free gym at the hotel is just another perk of working there, but feeling someone else's abs against your skin is a different story entirely.

“Then I should probably let you go.”

Even as he says it, Jeno holds Jaemin tighter, his lips turning up on one side in a smirk that shouldn’t be as attractive as it is. Jaemin feels himself slipping away from logic, his body reacting to everything that Jeno is like a drug in the air. The ocean laps around them, softer now than it was before, and Jaemin can’t help but feel like the universe is playing a joke on him.

“I’m coming in!”

The sound of Renjun’s voice makes both of them startle, and Jaemin pushes out of Jeno’s hold with a cough to loosen up some more water he must’ve swallowed. When Jaemin looks to the shore to see Renjun stomping into the water, he’s met with a glare that’s heated enough to turn the sand to glass, dampening whatever excitement he was feeling only seconds ago.

Any chance of being alone dwindles when both Yunjin and Renjun join them out in the water. The sun begins to disappear behind the island as splashing games turn into swimming races, and swimming races somehow become chicken fights on the sand bar. The last calm of receding waves before the nighttime roughage rolls in comes once the sky is dark, and the beach is only illuminated by the lamps that Jaemin had brought with a singular street light from the small parking area. Yunjin and Renjun eventually retire to the shore, laying out on towels to dry off and rest after so much activity.

Jaemin and Jeno are still out in the water, floating on their backs with their pinkies locked so they don’t float away from each other. The water is so smooth, the waves coming up around Jaemin’s ears before dying off. They’ll pick up any minute now, once the moon is high in the sky, but Jaemin takes the time to look at the stars glowing above them.

Jaemin has always loved this island, for all that it is small, because he’s always felt so much closer to the sky. Stars glow differently out here, or at least, that's what his mother used to say. When he was younger, they used to fill him with a sense of wonder, as if everything was so much bigger than him and therefore not worth pondering. Jaemin simply loved that the sky had lights and never felt the need to look beyond.

The warm heat of Jeno’s pulse in their linked fingers makes Jaemin feel very differently about the stars, because Jeno has come from amongst their scattered constellations. He is the stars, his very DNA composed of space dust and things incomprehensible. Jaemin doesn’t understand him, but he wants to, and that feeling is very… new.

“We should probably head home,” Jaemin mutters over the sound of crickets and moving water. Jeno’s pinky flexes in his hold as he speaks, and it feels like a little plea.

“I like being out here,” Jeno replies just as softly as his touch, and Jaemin’s hand is suddenly filled with a warm palm rather than facing up at the sky. “I like spending time with you while not in the house.”

Something in Jaemin aches at that, because he agrees, but by saying so out loud he’ll be opening a box that needs to be kept safely shut. For now, all they have are private stretches of beach and the comfort of their own home, because there is no guarantee that Jeno won’t get upset by something, or change colors without being able to stop—or get caught by the man that lost him.

There are too many unknowns, and even though Jaemin wants nothing more than to have Jeno out in the sunlight with him to try pasta salad from his favorite food stand and buy groceries that they’ll both like, it’s safer this way. Safer for everyone.

“I know, but it’ll get better one day.”

It’s not exactly an admittance or a disagreement, so Jaemin hopes that it’s good enough for now. The last thing he wants is to hurt Jeno’s feelings, but someone needs to be thinking rationally, because it’s clear that Jeno only thinks about Jaemin.

“Maybe if–”

Jeno stops, the silence heavy for barely a few seconds. Jaemin registers that something is wrong by the third, and the water splashes around them as Jeno rights himself in the water, dragging Jaemin against his chest once more.

“Jeno, what–”

“A ship. I hear a ship.”

An emotion that Jaemin doesn’t think he’s ever felt before settles deep in his gut, his arms wrapped around Jeno’s neck once more for lack of being able to do much of anything else. That feeling crawls up his spine, spindling out into his limbs like tendrils, and he watches Jeno’s ears twitch as he hears something that Jaemin can’t.

Dread.

Deep blacks and reds pulse away the once soft pink, turning Jeno into an angry, inky colored mess. His grip around Jaemin is so tight that he can barely breathe, and before Jaemin can ask him to calm down, the buzzing sound scratches at his ears.

It’s almost like a helicopter, but it’s different. Jaemin can hear it now too, which means it must be close. Jeno’s breathing comes in bursts, his chest pumping against Jaemin’s. On the shore, Renjun and Yunjin are up, gathering their things as they have also decided that it’s time to head back. Jaemin wants to yell for them, to warn them, but just as his lips part he’s dragged under, water filling his mouth.

Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic.

Jaemin tries not to fight, feeling Jeno’s head beneath the water with him, his hair getting tangled in Jaemin’s fingers. He’s hiding from whatever that sound is, and Jaemin can hold his breath for a little bit longer.

But he wasn’t given a chance to hold any breath before being taken under, so his lungs already start to burn. It’s easy to tell yourself not to panic, but that only makes the feeling worsen when that mantra spirals. Jeno still isn’t letting up, seconds bleeding into themselves until Jaemin feels his eyes begin to ache from the pressure. 

Just one more second. Just one more second and he’ll let me up.

Another second comes, and Jaemin’s mouth opens in a silent yell, his hand trying to smack at Jeno to let him go. It’s definitely time to panic now, all logical thought leaving Jaemin as he thrashes in Jeno’s hold. He can’t keep holding his breath, he’s going to inhale water. Everything feels tingly and his chest hurts.

Jaemin yells a silent scream under water again, and another hand wraps around his bicep to pull him from Jeno’s grasp before all that he tastes is brine. Air hits his overheated skin, water rushing into his mouth as he gasps for breath right at the water's surface.

“Jeno, what the fuck!” 

“What is wrong with you!”

Jaemin is still coughing up water, but he feels his body being dragged away from the waves, two hands on him feeling so very different. Yunjin’s soothing voice warms his ears, soft mutters of you’re gonna be okay making his head swim even more. Renjun is still yelling behind him, but Jaemin’s head hurts. He needs to see Jeno.

“Can you stand?” Yunjin asks as she hauls Jaemin up onto the sandbar, his knees scraping in the sand and bringing some feeling back to his body. He can’t have been under for long, but it was long enough to be scary. “Jaemin?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” Jaemin mutters as he steadies himself on shaky legs. The waves are picking up now that it’s dark out, and Jaemin has to lean on Yunjin’s arm as they walk back to the shore together.

“What happened?”

That’s the big question, isn’t it? Jaemin isn’t quite sure what happened, even if he’s running through a million different scenarios that both plead Jeno’s innocence and set him up on an easy trial. He was scared, Jaemin knows that, but to not be willing to let Jaemin go… to so easily ignore that he was panicking.

Jaemin doesn’t know what to think, and yet he can’t be mad at Jeno, not when he turns to see his long limbs and sad eyes as he rushes out of the ocean with Renjun in tow. Renjun looks angry enough to set the entire beach on fire, and Jaemin just wants to lay down.

“Jaemin, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking—”

“I could have told you that,” Renjun snaps as he grabs his towel from the piled up stuff, sand going everywhere as if to emphasize his anger. 

It’s not helping anything, and Jaemin wipes the stinging water from his eyes to see Jeno standing only a few feet away, hands curled as his side in defeat. 

“I was scared. I heard the ship and I didn't want them to see you,” Jeno says while taking a step closer, stopping when Renjun shoots him another glare while tugging his shirt over his head. “I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t want them to see you, Jeno, it had nothing to do with Jaemin. And even if that was the case, you have to warn him! You could have killed him!”

Renjun huffs as he shakes out his hair, so much rage in that little body. Jaemin wants to tell him that its fine, that he’s not hurt, but the truth is that he could have been. Jeno clearly didn’t need air as bad, but Jaemin can’t just forgive him for everything he does. Even when that’s all he wants to do.

“Jaemin—”

“No, you can talk to him later. Let's just go home.”

Yunjin’s hand is still on Jaemin’s arm, soothing him with gentle strokes as Renjun puts the baskets into Jeno’s hands. The sandy blankets get tossed around Renjun’s shoulders, and Yunjin takes the beach chair. Jaemin offers to take something too, but nobody lets him, and Jaemin can’t even bring himself to look up at the sky.

The walk back home is deafening, and Jaemin wonders how much of it actually matters in the grand scheme of things. 

He hates the weird feeling he got from the incident, as if Renjun defending him made Jeno feel like he’s some sort of… danger. That’s the last thing that Jaemin wants him to feel, because he’s had a lifetime's worth of being told that he’s a monster. Jeno deserves to be treated as soft and lovable and kind, but to Renjun he’s still an unknown variable—a liability. Renjun has always been the more rational of the two, but he’s fiery in ways that Jaemin can’t contain, and he hopes that this hasn’t soured all the progress they’ve made. 

The moment they enter the house, Renjun and Yunjin long gone, Jaemin hopes to talk to Jeno before bed. He gives him space as they take off their shoes and take turns cleaning up in the bathroom, but Jeno doesn’t say a word. 

He watches Jaemin, keeping a close, almost magnified eye on him the entire time. Jeno doesn’t seem inclined to let Jaemin out of his sight, but when he’s all dried and clean and munching on some crackers in the kitchen, Jeno doesn’t emerge from his bedroom after his own shower. Jaemin waits, for as long as he can, until his body is just too exhausted to worry about it. 

Jeno didn’t mean to hurt him, he didn’t hurt him at all. It was scary and it shouldn’t have happened, but Jeno obviously feels terrible, and Jaemin doesn’t know if intruding now will help. 

So Jaemin retires to his room, teeth brushed and hair still damp, wondering how exactly to relay to Jeno that he can’t do anything wrong in Jaemin’s eyes. 

🛸 

Jaemin doesn’t know why he’s so afraid to have someone near his house.

It’s not like he’s going to let Chenle inside, because even before Jeno, he never let people inside. 

Jaemin’s a private person, and even just having Chenle at the edge of his driveway makes him itch with the uncomfortable feeling of being perceived. It’s part introvertedness and part an underlying fear that Jeno will in fact hear the stranger—or smell him—and do something else that Jaemin can't control. 

But Jeno’s been in his room for days, only coming out when Jaemin leaves for work. The incident at the beach must have really upset him, and Jaemin still hasn’t figured out how to bring it up. 

“Thanks for walking me home,” Jaemin says with a distracted smile, gesturing to his driveway with his jacket held in the crook of his elbow.

It’s an early evening, the morning dance shift letting him out much sooner than usual. Colors are dancing on the horizon in shades of pink and orange, and Jaemin can't help but think of Jeno again. 

Jeno isn’t here right now though, and Jaemin tries to focus on the guy that was nice enough to listen to him rant for ten minutes about fuckass-front-desk Kyle. Chenle works at the resort too, a bartender in the bar that’s literally inside of the pool. He makes all sorts of fancy drinks that get people absolutely hammered, and Jaemin has hung out with him on the very rare, work related occasion. 

Chenle had offered to walk him home when Jaemin let it slip that he lives on this road, to which Chenle commented that he lives a quarter of a mile away and had no idea how they’ve never crossed paths. 

Jaemin assumes it has something to do with the fact that Chenle drives, but he’s been too distracted to think much about the offer. An offer that seems glaringly obvious now that Chenle is grinning at him in that expectant, boyish way. 

Either Jaemin is the dumbest, most dense person on the planet, or Chenle is really good at hiding his intentions. 

“No problem. Though I can’t imagine how you do this every day, I’m already sweating through my shirt,” Chenle says with a fanning motion to his face, his skin glistening with evidence of said sweat. Jaemin is a bit sticky too, but he’s lived here his whole life, so it doesn’t bother him much. 

“I don’t have much choice, I guess,” Jaemin replies with a nervous chuckle, lingering thoughts of Jeno making him antsy to get inside. “Listen, thanks again, but I should really—”

“Jaemin.”

Jaemin freezes at the sound of his name, gravel coming loose beneath his shoes when he spins to see the source of the voice he’s become so fond of. He’s barely a foot away, and neither of them noticed him coming, only adding to the fact that he’s capable of things that Jaemin doesn’t understand. Any usual sweetness that Jeno harbors has been replaced with repulsion, his features blushing a furious red. 

He hasn’t shifted colors yet, somehow, but Jaemin feels the panic seep in, and he rushes to Jeno’s side in the hopes that he can shoo Chenle off before anything bad happens. 

“Who’s this?” Chenle asks with a polite smile, looking from Jaemin to a very angry, very not thinking rationally Jeno. He’s got that darkness in his eyes that Jaemin knows all too well, the urge to destroy whatever’s standing in front of him absolutely rife on his face. 

Jaemin knows he doesn’t have much time for damage control, because as much as Jeno has grown, he’s always going to have those instincts, and they’re not quite contained yet. Jeno’s chest puffs with a breath, his hands curling into fists at his side, and Jaemin feels panic set in faster than he can stop it. 

“Babe! You scared me,” Jaemin says with a nervous laugh, reaching a hand up to cup Jeno’s cheek and hoping that the blinding sunset keeps Chenle from seeing the way his skin whispers with different emotions. “You’re burning up, honey. You shouldn’t be out of bed.”

“Oh, is this your boyfriend?” Chenle asks with that same neutral demeanor, always so level headed even when someone is looking at him like he wants to crush his bones. “Sorry dude, that’s totally my bad. I was just walking Jaemin home.”

Another huff leaves Jeno, this one less angry now that Jaemin is near, his body like a shield that he knows Jeno won’t rip through. Jeno cares about him too much, whatever that may mean.

“Don’t worry about it, I really appreciate the company,” Jaemin mutters nervously in reply, having to turn his head to look at Chenle now that he’s decided to soothe Jeno with his charm. “He’s just been very sick so I better get him inside, right baby?”

Jeno looks down to meet Jaemin’s stare then, his eyes softening just enough for Jaemin to not be so worried about the safety of his coworker. His irises swirl with that same pink color that’s no doubt thrumming beneath his skin like a lava lamp. It still fascinates Jaemin, even after all this time, and he feels himself get lost in those hypnotizing eyes. 

“Right, well, see you later,” Chenle says from behind Jaemin, the sound of his footsteps fading away being all that Jaemin needs to know that they’re safe now. 

Even if Jeno is the danger here, anyone finding out about him would be just as bad as whatever destruction he’s able to impose. That's, of course, a very biased way of thinking, but with the way Jeno is looking at Jaemin as if he’s just told him something beautiful, it’s enough to keep Jaemin from questioning his lapse in sanity.

“Jeno, what was that?” Jaemin asks while keeping his touch light on Jeno’s cheek, breath catching in his throat when he feels one of Jenos hands find the curve of his waist as if it's normal. Perhaps it is now, or maybe nothing ever was. 

“He made me want to kill him.”

It’s said so simply, his voice the slightest bit raw but otherwise sure. Jeno says it as if it’s truth because to him, it is. 

“Why?” Jaemin practically whines, because he’s confused and yet he understands completely. It’s not a secret that he and Jeno feel things for each other, nor is it a secret that they have something that neither have yet to explain. 

Jaemin has been hoping he wouldn’t have to, that Jeno would realize he’s got better things to do than go after the first guy he met on earth. It’s terrible and pathetic, but the self sacrificing part of Jaemin doesn’t think he deserves Jeno, because how can someone deserve a man that has gone through so much? Why does he get to be chosen? 

“Because you’re mine,” Jeno replies after a breath, his other hand raising to cup Jaemin’s cheek. His skin bursts with pretty pinks and calm yellows, just like the sunset around them. “I’m yours. He smelled like very bad things, like he wanted to touch you… to smell you like I do. I hated him for it.”

Memories of nearly drowning in Jeno’s arms come to the forefront of Jaemin’s mind. He thinks of how scared he was, and how badly he needed air, but how he also couldn’t blame Jeno for it. That’s kind of how he feels now, with the heavy air getting harder to breathe around them.

It’s an intense confession, and Jaemin is still jumbled on what he feels is right from wrong. This couldn’t be more of a complicated situation, but Jaemin likes Jeno, and Jeno obviously feels something for him. What would the harm be? Truly? Have they not had enough time to decide if this is something they want to try?

Jaemin is letting himself be drowned all over again, the water rushing into his mouth and keeping him from having anything rational to say. Jeno is all the colors of the rainbow, his skin illuminating like an iridescent stone beneath sunlight. He’s… beautiful, the warm pink that Jaemin knows is just for him rippling between his opalescent shimmer. Jeno is extraterrestrial, completely out of this world, and Jaemin wants to kiss him.

So he does.

It seems silly to have agonized over it for so long, once Jeno’s warm lips are pressed against his own. His hand curls around Jaemin’s jaw, sliding down to his neck and tugging him closer. It becomes clear quite fast that Jeno knows how to kiss, and Jaemin feels his legs nearly give out from under him when their heads tilt in tandem, finding an angle that lets them go deeper.

Jaemin’s lips part with a small inhale, a warm tongue dragging against the opening before slipping inside. It isn’t messy or hurried, but Jeno licks into his mouth as if he wants to taste him, languid and warm and dizzying.

In all of his years of being alive, Jaemin doesn’t think he’s ever felt a kiss like this before. His fingers curl into the fabric of Jeno’s rumpled shirt, feeling the reverent heat that seeps out of his body like radiation. One day, Jaemin will ask what he’s made of, but right now? Nothing could ruin this moment.

“Mm, Jaemin. My Jaemin,” Jeno murmurs with a voice that sounds as rough as the gravel they’re standing on. The same gravel that crunches with each of their movements.

Every little noise feels as if it’s scratching at Jaemin’s skin, Jeno’s words dripping down his back like honey. Jaemin wants to melt into it all, to let his legs fail him and force Jeno to carry him, or drag him down to the ground with him. His own tongue pokes out to run against Jeno’s curious muscle, and it’s slick and searing.

The crunching gravel gets louder, and Jaemin feels his breath carrying between them. He’s practically panting, every inch of him on high alert. Jaemin knows they should go inside, but it’s not enough to pull away.

Nothing is enough except that incessant crunching, and Jaemin sobers up the moment he realizes what it is he’s hearing.

Jaemin pulls back with a gasp, looking over to see Renjun standing in the middle of his long driveway. His shoes aren’t laced up, and his cheeks are red—either from embarrassment or anger, Jaemin can’t tell. It’s almost as angry as he looked that day on the beach, and Jaemin isn’t even sure what he’s supposed to be apologizing for.

Renjun doesn’t give him the chance to, his chest heaving with a heavy exhale before he’s spinning on his heels to go back into the house. Jaemin looks to Jeno with an apology, but Jeno only nods, understanding that this is not something that can wait.

“Renjun!” Jaemin calls as he chases after him up the driveway, Jeno in tow. 

It’s a long walk up to the house, but Renjun doesn’t say anything, walking a few beats ahead until they’re climbing the front steps. Jaemin and Jeno pass through the front door right behind him, waiting to be scolded like kids caught making out beneath the bleachers. The argument is exhausting before it’s even begun, and Jaemin prepares himself for a world of hurt when Jeno gently grabs his hand at the same moment Renjun whirls around to face them.

“Are you fucking crazy?” Renjun practically screams, his hands curling at his side as if he wants to reach out and rip them apart. “You can’t go around kissing the alien, Jaemin. It’s unethical!”

The accusation makes Jaemin’s skin burn with shameful heat, his cheeks already flushed. It wasn’t exactly planned, it just happened, it just happened and Jaemin wanted it to happen. He didn’t even know that Jeno knew how to kiss, which is fighting for priority in his jumbled head. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think—”

“Don’t apologize,” Jeno interrupts, his features bordering on rageful as he looks at Renjun. “We didn’t do anything wrong.”

This is clearly the wrong thing to say, one of Renjun’s fingers pointing at Jeno as if he can cast a spell to make him go away. He’s so… angry. Jaemin doesn’t know what to do with the fact that something that’s making him happy is causing so many problems. Are they being irrational? Is Renjun in the wrong?

“The fact that you can’t even see how this might be a problem says enough about whether you know right or wrong,” Renjun scolds with enough venom that Jeno visibly rears back, his hold on Jaemin’s hand tightening with his own uncertainty. 

“I’m a man. A grown adult man, and so is Jaemin, so what have we done wrong?”

The way Jeno speaks is so soft, almost pleading. Jaemin wants to tell Renjun to leave them alone, that this doesn’t concern him and they can talk tomorrow. That wouldn’t be very fair though, because Jaemin chose to drag Renjun into this, and he can’t just forcibly remove him. 

“Because he’s taking care of you!” Renjun snaps. “You rely on him and maybe that’s why you think you have feelings for him? You guys can’t build a relationship off of this, not until Jeno’s on his own two feet.”

“I’m already standing,” Jeno says as his features pinch, looking from Jaemin to Renjun once more. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Okay, so maybe Jeno doesn’t know everything about that world. He has things he needs to learn, but he is a grown man. There’s no point in assuming he needs to be guided through everything with his hand held, because Jaemin doesn’t know everything either. Every time he files his taxes or pays off his credit card or turns on the stove, he’s hoping for the best. Being an adult and being alive is just a big fucking gamble, and you try and maybe you succeed, but you can’t not try at all. 

But Renjun is on a warpath, and Jaemin doesn’t have the time to appeal to his sense of humility. 

“Ugh. No, E.T. I mean that Jaemin’s actions could unintentionally convince you that this is romantic,” Renjun says while gesturing to their interlocked hands, his skin glistening with sweat from how worked up he is. “And Jaemin, you know better than to fall for projects.”

Something in Jaemin cracks at that, the look of cold and unfeeling superiority that Renjun is giving him making everything feel so small. Renjun’s allowed to be mad, but nothing has even happened yet. Nothing was going to happen. They kissed, and Jaemin liked it, so what if Jeno is an alien? 

“Renjun, I think you’re being a little bit harsh,” Jaemin mutters, trying to hold eye contact despite the way it makes his insides coil. “I know that this is… questionable, but it’s not like that.”

Renjun scoffs at Jaemin’s poor attempt at defending himself, and everything feels as if it’s spiraled beyond anyone’s control. 

“Then how is it? Explain it to me, Jaemin. Because I’m really starting to think—”

“No,” Jeno interrupts once more, holding his hand out as if to referee a game. His skin is pulsing with a confusing blend of black and pink, hints of red making everything all muddy. “I can’t take another minute of this conversation or I will get angry and won’t be able to stop. We can be angry tomorrow.”

As if he’s about to explode like some cartoon, Renjun’s eye twitches. He’s looking between the both of them, probably determining if he can call Jeno’s bluff or if he really should back off.

Jaemin looks at Jeno to check for himself, and sees his chest rising and falling with labored breaths. He’s genuinely upset, and trying to do the right thing by stopping before he does something he regrets. It’s probably the wrong time, but Jaemin is proud of him, and he doesn’t allow himself to feel hurt when Jeno detaches from his hold. 

“I’m sorry,” Jeno mutters under his breath, already retreating towards the hall. “I can’t.”

There’s nothing to do but watch him go, because Jaemin is angry too. Renjun isn’t there to be his pseudo-parent, and Jaemin knows that sometimes he relies on him too much, but he’s angry that Renjun can’t seem to trust him enough to handle this on his own.

Jaemin may not always know what he’s doing, but neither does Renjun. Neither does anybody. 

“Goodnight,” Jaemin says in nothing more than a whisper, brushing past Renjun in the hopes that he’ll just let it be. 

There’s nothing productive being said, no good that can come from an argument where everyone is on edge. Jeno knew when to tap out, so Jaemin is following his example, and he huffs in relief when his bedroom walls shake from the front door being slammed shut.

Alone once more, Jaemin decides to shower, because it’s been a long day at work and he needs to wash off the icky feeling that Renjun has left behind. It’s not fair that he’s so hellbent on telling Jaemin that he’s doing everything wrong, because Jaemin has never done anything to make him think otherwise. They’ve been friends since they were kids, and in all those years, Jaemin has brushed off every bloody nose and scraped knee. He falls, but he gets back up, and Renjun has no right to act as if Jaemin is walking blindly into oncoming traffic.

Out of pure spite, Jaemin makes sure to brush his teeth extra well and moisturize from head to toe. He checks all the locks and shuts off all the lights before crawling into his nicely made bed. The sheets are cool against his skin, soft pillows cradling him, and he looks up at the dark ceiling to decide if he’s in way over his head.

It’s a conversation he’s had with himself many times. Jaemin isn’t a stranger to biting off more than he can chew. When his mom passed, he probably should have sold the house and gotten the hell out of dodge, but he wanted to stay. So what did he do? He figured it out. 

When Jeno showed up, Jaemin should have left well enough alone. He didn’t have to let Jeno inside, or let him live in his house, or take care of him at all. But he wanted to. So he figured it out. 

His whole life he’s been figuring it out, raising himself with a presently absent mother and a missing father complex. Jaemin has taught himself how to make pancakes and how to change the air filter in the house and what to do if the toilet leaks. He knows how to surf and how to cook and how to replace a damaged slab of hardwood. Anything that needs done, Jaemin does it. It doesn’t matter if its right or if it’s good enough, it gets done, and he does it alone.

Alone.

Jaemin sighs, closing his eyes to try and push out the unbearable weight of the word. Jaemin can handle himself, but it’s only because he has to, only because he’s never had any other choice. Renjun pushes him so hard because he worries, and Jaemin understands, even if it sucks. 

He wakes up alone and goes to bed alone and spends his days just trying to get to the next one. Things are going to be hard when you live your life like that, but Jaemin knows he can handle it. And he can handle feeling alone. 

Except, Jaemin isn’t alone for very long, and the hairs on his arms come to attention when his bedroom door is slowly creaked open. 

It’s Jeno, it’s obviously Jeno, and Jaemin sits up despite his room being dark, watching the blue night light bleed in from the hallway before his door is shut once more. Jeno shuffles in on quiet feet, his shadowed silhouette looking comfy and tired. 

The weight of the bed dipping lets Jaemin know that their conversation from earlier isn’t over, and he can’t decide if he’s grateful or not. 

“Are you okay?” Jeno asks while reaching a hand out to carefully brush Jaemin’s bare arm, the lack of shirt on Jeno’s body suddenly very apparent. “I’m sorry that Renjun said those things to you. It wasn’t fair.”

Apparent and only made worse by the fact that Jeno is incredibly sweet, probably too sweet to Jaemin. 

“No… no, it was,” Jaemin replies with a sigh. “I mean, how do we know that this isn’t just infatuation? We’re relying on each other for different things, and you’ve never had a relationship before—”

“That’s not true.”

Jaemin pauses, his mouth still hung open from the thought he never got to finish. Jeno doesn’t really seem defensive either, he’s just stating something that is fact, and Jaemin can’t bring himself to feel any sort of way about it.

“What?”

“You say I’ve never had a relationship before, but that’s not true,” Jeno says again, his shoulders shrugging casually. “They weren’t my mate, but there was a time when I was kept on a holding ship and I met another human. They weren’t an experiment, but we were together for a few weeks before my creator picked me up again.”

That’s… new information. Is Jaemin jealous? Not really. Is he surprised? Kind of. He doesn’t really know what a holding ship is and he’s too afraid to ask right now. Jeno is a very capable, very beautiful man, so of course some space traveler had a piece before Jaemin could. Maybe he is a little bit jealous, but only because he selfishly wanted to have been the only one to get close to Jeno like this, which isn’t fair to him.

“Oh. So you’ve…?”

“Had sex? Yes.”

Jaemin isn’t sure if that's really the question he was asking, but he’ll take the answer. That kind of ebbs some of his nerves about all of this. Being someone's first can be tricky, and if Jeno knows his way around a bedroom, even better. Though, that really depends on if…

“Were they a guy or a girl?”

Jeno smiles at the question, the moonlight seeping in through the window helping to outline his shadowed features. He looks pretty even in the dark, and Jaemin knows he’s down terribly bad for him. 

“They were male,” Jeno replies as his grin grows wider, as if he’s smug over Jaemin’s curiosity. An alien man is still a man, Jaemin supposes.

“Oh. That’s good—I mean, not good, I’m sure bisexual aliens exist,” Jaemin mutters with a wave of his hands, scooting back on the bed until his back hits the headboard. Jeno comes trailing after him, resting on his forearm by Jaemin’s thighs to look up at him. “It just means that you’re not—that I’m not—” Jaemin pauses again, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth. “I don’t even know what I’m saying.”

One of Jeno’s warm and calloused hands reaches out to touch Jaemin’s thigh over the sheets. It’s comforting, even if it sends little jolts of curiosity up through Jaemin’s body. Everything about Jeno is exciting to Jaemin, alien or not, and he wants to kiss him again.

“Jaemin, it’s okay. My feelings for you are more than just your body, though I enjoy that very much too,” Jeno says with a light squeeze of where he’s holding Jaemin, playful even now. It’s nice to see Jeno like this, even if it drives Jaemin crazy. “From the first moment we touched you created a new color on my body I’ve never seen before. I can smell you from miles away, and I have this need to… protect you. To keep you safe.”

As much as he is silly, Jeno sounds so reverent in the way he talks, as if every word is a binding contract. Jaemin would have run for the hills if any other ex-boyfriend or girlfriend said something like this to him. It sounds possessive and overbearing, but Jaemin doesn’t think that Jeno has a desire to own him.

Jeno has always just wanted to be a part of Jaemin’s life, and to exist in this world as he does. It’s not so scary because Jeno doesn’t operate on the same rules as an earth man would—an earth caveman that would make these words sound like they belong on a restraining order request.

The alien just is who he is, and Jaemin really, really likes him.

“My DNA is spliced with a lot of creatures, one of which being a race of aliens that mate for life once they’ve found their other half,” Jeno adds before leaning down to kiss at Jaemin’s forearm that’s resting in his lap, making his skin prickle with goosebumps.

That’s an even more insane thing to say, and yet.

“And you think… that’s me? Even if we can’t, like, have kids?” Jaemin asks for lack of knowing how else to respond. This could all be the most insanely well acted bullshit that Jaemin has ever heard in this galaxy, but when he looks down into Jeno’s glimmering eyes, his silver hair catching the moonlight, he has no choice but to believe him.

Jaemin wants to believe him, for all that this has been stressful and confusing, Jaemin wants this to work. Renjun can be angry all he wants, but this isn’t really about him. Not everything has to be about the entire world, sometimes things can just be about Jeno and Jaemin. 

“I was made sterile, Jaemin. That means nothing to me. I feel it in my carefully stitched nervous system that this is right.” Jeno smiles, pulling himself up into a sitting position so that he’s at eye level with Jaemin. His eyes curve in that cute way they do, and Jaemin finds himself reaching out to cup his cheek without thinking. “With my creator, my flaw was that I was too human. With you? That isn’t a flaw.”

There have been so many times in Jaemin’s life where he’s worried that things would inevitably go wrong. From the moment he was born to the day his mom died, he’s learned that having expectations is just asking to be let down. Having Renjun as a best friend helps, because he can be the voice of reason when Jaemin doesn’t know what to do, but sometimes there is no right or wrong.

Sometimes things just are what they are, and it doesn’t have to be scary or hopeless. The beauty of inevitability is that no matter what you do, things are going to happen the same way. Jeno could be sucked back into space tomorrow, or he could live here with Jaemin until they both shrivel up and die. Either way, no matter what happens, Jaemin doesn’t want to live knowing that he didn’t kiss Jeno when he could have, and he didn’t let this thing between them go on just because he doesn’t fully understand.

Jeno will explain it to him, and they’ll figure it out as they go. Whatever is meant to happen will happen and they’ll figure that out too, but right now? Jaemin doesn’t want to think. It’s too late to think.

With a small inhale, Jaemin presses forward to capture Jeno’s lips in a kiss, tugging him closer by the back of his neck. Jeno’s bare arm curls around Jaemin’s waist, bringing them down onto the bed until their limbs are tangled together. Jaemin went to sleep in boxers and a flimsy t-shirt, and Jeno is wearing nothing but some shorts. It’s a recipe for disaster, and Jaemin doesn’t care one bit.

“So you’ll have me?” Jeno asks with a smile, his teeth nipping at Jaemin’s bottom lip before soothing over it with his warm tongue. Jeno’s canines are a bit sharper than normal, and Jaemin thinks he loves it. “You’re accepting me?”

“Of course I am,” Jaemin murmurs as he nuzzles his nose against Jeno’s cheek, kissing down along his jaw and pushing him back into the mattress.

One of Jaemin’s legs hooks around Jeno’s hips, giving him leverage to straddle his thighs. Jeno is already bulging in his shorts, so quick to react, and Jaemin finds himself so curious he could die.

“We finally get to do that mating you’ve been asking so much about,” Jaemin says with a small hum, licking the sharp edge of Jeno’s jaw before trailing his lips down the length of his neck. “If you want to, that is.”

A warm sound buzzes from Jeno’s throat at the offer, his hands gripping Jaemin’s waist beneath his t-shirt with a jerky nod of his head. Jeno’s fingers are so strong, kneading Jaemin’s flesh with each little kiss. Jaemin maps out every inch of Jeno’s collarbone, licking over the swell of his pectorals before nuzzling his nose into the indent of Jeno’s abs. He’s built like a perfectly designed character, a dream that shouldn’t be real. 

Jeno deserves so much more than what was given to him, but Jaemin is determined to give him everything now, because even as insane and unbelievable as it is to think in the safety of his own mind, Jaemin loves the guy. He really, really does.

“You’re not worried?” Jeno asks even as his hand curls in Jaemin’s hair, brushing through the messy strands in a gentle sort of pet. “You don’t think I’m asking too much?”

Jaemin almost wants to laugh, and not because it’s particularly funny. This entire situation is too much, and it has been from the moment Jaemin went poking in bushes when he shouldn’t have. Jeno literally fell from the sky and landed in Jaemin’s backyard, and now Jaemin is pretty sure that he’s the last person he’s ever going to be with.

It’s asking entirely too much, it’s completely fucking insane. And yet, Jaemin is excited for it all.

“Do I think this is fast? Sure,” Jaemin replies with a small shrug, looking up at Jeno through his lashes as he licks one of the divots of his abs. He’s so firm, each muscle flexing when Jeno twitches with the wet touch. “But I want to, Jeno. I really, really want to.”

With a small huff, Jeno nods again, seemingly unsure what to do now that he’s been given exactly what he wants. It’s probably a new feeling for him, and Jaemin grins against his overheated skin, nipping the soft flesh of his lower stomach.

“Okay,” Jeno says on an exhale, his hand in Jaemin’s hair curling to guide him away. “Okay.”

Confused, Jaemin looks up, expecting to see Jeno telling him to stop or to do something else. Jaemin pretty much expects anything but Jeno sitting up, reaching out for Jaemin’s shirt with his other hand and switching their positions with ease. 

Jaemin finds himself staring up at the ceiling, feathers from his fake down pillows floating above him before Jeno comes into view. His silver hair is disheveled and he’s pulsing with that lovely pink, streaks of a deep gold cutting through Jaemin’s color. 

“Me first.”

With a singular chaste kiss to Jaemin’s lips, Jeno tugs at his shirt, pulling it up and over Jaemin’s head. His boxers go next, Jeno gingerly slipping one of Jaemin’s legs out, then the next. Jeno even takes his own shorts off, leaving them both entirely bare, and Jaemin wonders how the hell he has missed a very important detail of Jeno’s body.

Kneeling between Jaemin’s spread thighs, Jeno straightens up after tossing his shorts over the edge of the bed. He’s the same perfect Jeno as always, color coming in and out, muscles shifting with each movement. There’s just one thing that sticks out to Jaemin, one glaringly obvious, intensely interesting thing that Jaemin’s sure has come straight out of the most terrible alien porn.

“Your dick,” Jaemin nearly yelps, watching in mild horror as Jeno’s gaze follows where he’s looking, straight to his very hard and very alien cock. “That’s not—”

“It’s not human, no,” Jeno says with a small shrug, shuffling closer as if he’s not fulfilling a fantasy that Jaemin didn’t even know he had. “I mean, mostly it is. Just another part of my modification. Human dicks are fleshy, and since I was already male, it was just easier to change the parts I was going to have. The ridges are to protect it, basically.”

Ridges.

Ridges.

Jeno’s dick is pulsing with color just like the rest of him, each pump of blood making it shift like a fucking sun catcher. The head is slightly more pointed than a humans, and the shaft is covered in these ridges that look as if they’re made of cartilage. Surely not bone. 

Then again, what does Jaemin know?

“Is it weird?” Jeno asks after a beat of silence, his hands coming down to grip Jaemin’s thighs. 

Jaemin shakes his head no, closing his mouth with an audible click. Jeno doesn’t seem nervous to touch him, even if they’ve never done anything like this before. Maybe for Jeno, he just knows it’s going to be fun because it’s something he wants. Jaemin thinks he can embody that too, because holy fuck his new boyfriend’s dick has ridges.

“Zero weirdness,” Jaemin says while plopping back down into the pillows, physically unable to hold himself up. “It’s hot.”

“Oh?”

Jeno doesn't sound the least bit surprised, and Jaemin playfully kicks him with his heel for being so sure of himself.

“Is there a reason you stopped me from giving you a blowjob? Or was this just a fun game to torture me?” Jaemin asks as his hands come up to scrub at his face, his cheeks feeling warm and sticky with sweat.

He’s nervous, and he probably has every right to be. Jeno is an alien, and Jaemin doesn’t know how aliens roll with sex. He could be expecting things that Jaemin doesn’t know how to give, or maybe he’ll be wanting Jaemin to have some sort of weird appendage. If his last boyfriend was human too, how does Jaemin compare? What makes him special?

“I have a reason,” Jeno says simply, shifting between Jaemin’s thighs.

The bed dips and the sheets rustle as he gets situated, but Jaemin still can’t bring himself to look, his brain suddenly swimming with thoughts that want to send him spiraling. It seems silly to be insecure in front of Jeno, because the man has been locked up for years. But it’s Jeno, and Jaemin is only human.

“Tell me if you don’t like this,” Jeno murmurs in his deep voice, his lips brushing the crease of where Jaemin’s hips meet his thigh. His fingers curl beneath Jaemin’s knees, pushing them up and back until Jaemin is spread obscenely.

Is he going to give Jaemin a blowjob? Why is Jaemin so nervous about it? How do aliens—

Oh.

Oh my god.

Jaemin gasps at the first press of Jeno’s warm tongue, a wet and firm lick across his entrance making his thighs want to snap shut. Jeno’s strong grip keeps him pried open, his throat buzzing with a groan as he goes in for another lick, and another. 

“Jeno, what—”

“I have wanted to do this for so long,” Jeno mutters before nipping at Jaemin’s thigh with those unusually sharp canines, sucking the flesh between his lips until it stings. 

Jaemin whimpers at the little jolts of pain, but he loves it, waves of pleasure skimming up his spine as Jeno soothes the red mark with his incessant tongue.

“You… you wanted to eat me out?” Jaemin asks with a voice that sounds far too small, his naturally deep cadence making each word become a whisper. “Are you even real?”

“Of course I am,” Jeno chuckles. “I was made just for you.”

And then he’s dipping back down, lapping at Jaemin’s puckered rim before circling it, his tongue taught and teasing. A moan slips from Jaemin’s bitten lips, his already tacky skin practically burning with how good it feels. Nobody has ever done this to him before, and the fact that Jeno wanted to do it before even getting a blowjob makes Jaemin want to weep.

“You smell so good, Jaemin.” Another lick. “I can never get enough.”

From any other man, that might be a weird compliment, but Jaemin preens when Jeno’s tongue tries to push past his clenching hole. He’s too on edge, and he hasn’t had sex in awhile. Jaemin’s body isn’t ready to budge, but Jeno seems two steps ahead, one of his hands coming down to press a finger right up against his tongue.

Jaemin can feel the wetness between his cheeks with each of Jeno’s panting breaths, saliva dripping down to the sheets below as Jeno eases his finger past the tightened muscle. It stings at first, because Jaemin is tense and he isn’t sure if this means he’s going to be bottoming.

Thinking about Jeno’s weird alien dick kind of makes him hope that he is, and Jaemin exhales when that finger presses up to the second knuckle.

“Relax,” Jeno whispers against his skin, slowly thrusting his finger in and out. His tongue licks around the intrusion, more saliva helping ease his movements. 

It feels… good, the sting subsiding even when one finger turns to two, and two turns to three with Jeno’s tongue shoved in along side them. It’s not long before Jaemin is a panting, mewling mess. Sweat drips down his temple, his lips bitten raw and thighs marked with bites of various colors. 

Jeno has well and truly broken Jaemin down to nothing, made him so pliant with his whispered praises and gentle kisses. All the while, Jaemin has done nothing but lay there and take it.

“Jeno, I—”

“It’s okay,” Jeno interrupts softly, slowly slipping his fingers out of Jaemin’s body as if he’s afraid to hurt him. 

The emptiness makes Jaemin shiver, awareness of his own body coming back to him all at once. His cock is hard and leaking against his stomach, every muscle on him aching from how hard he’s been clenching. Jaemin releases his grip on the sheets, knuckles popping when he does, and a delirious little laugh escapes him as Jeno comes up from between his thighs.

“Are you laughing at me?” Jeno asks teasingly, placing a gentle kiss to Jaemin’s nose, and then his cheeks. “After all of that?”

“No, I’m not—” Jaemin giggles again, his weak hands coming up to clasp behind Jeno’s neck. “I’m not laughing at you, baby. I’m just… happy.”

Which is a big understatement, because Jaemin hasn’t even been able to come yet, and his entire body feels alight with giddiness. Jeno just makes him feel fuzzy in the best way, and he wants to return the favor.

“I’m glad you’re happy,” Jeno says with a sweet smile, his lips coming down for a proper kiss this time.

Jaemin meets him halfway, his head lifting from the pillows long enough to teasingly lick into Jeno’s mouth. A soft gasp buzzes against Jaemin’s lips, and he takes the opportunity to brush the tip of his tongue against one of Jeno’s canines. They’re definitely sharp, and Jaemin can think of a million different reasons as to why he might have them.

“Can I have a turn?” Jaemin asks in nearly a whisper as his head drops back down into the pillows, one of his hands unclasping to travel between their bodies. “Since you interrupted me earlier.”

It’s an obvious invitation, and Jaemin is far too curious for his own good. His fingers find Jeno’s waist, then his hip bone, traveling just the slightest bit right until they’re brushing past curly hair. There’s plenty of time for Jeno to tell him no, but it never comes, the soft pants against Jaemin’s lips letting him know that he’s totally okay with whatever is about happen.

Jaemin knows he’ll kill himself with anticipation if he drags this out, so he calms his own nerves with a teasing nip of Jeno’s chin, wrapping his fingers around his cock.

Just as with the rest of him, Jeno runs incredibly hot down here too. He’s throbbing in Jaemin’s hold, leaking sticky precome and definitely… different. The ridges displace Jaemin’s fingers, making the slide a bit strange as he slowly strokes his cock. It’s not as smooth as if he were doing it to himself, but Jeno reacts as if its the most amazing thing in the world, his arms trembling with the effort to not collapse right on top of Jaemin.

“Oh, that’s—it’s—”

“Is it good?” Jaemin asks as his fingers toy with the head, thumb pressing against his slit that’s dribbling more pearlescent beads of wetness. 

Jeno’s skin is rippling with that same gold color, Jaemin notices, and it nearly glows in the darkness of the room. Each shuddering breath makes the color change, like a pebble being tossed into water and distorting the image. It’s impossible not to think about what he’ll look like inside of Jaemin, and that thought alone nearly has Jaemin coming all over them from nothing.

"I want to fuck you,” Jeno grumbles while nuzzling his nose along Jaemin’s throat, kissing the bump of his adams apple with spit-slick licks. “Please, Jaemin. Let me.”

Dear God.

Jeno is literally begging, his rough voice sounding so pained with the fact that he’s not already inside of Jaemin. They’ve only kissed today, only acknowledged that this thing between them is real a few hours ago. If there were an award for moving fast in a relationship, Jaemin thinks they would win a shameless first place.

“Uhm, condoms? Condoms,” Jaemin stutters out between breaths, his hand squeezing Jeno’s cock just to feel the way he trembles. “In my drawer.”

“When I say I’m sterile, I mean completely. I can’t catch disease,” Jeno says while attaching his lips to Jaemin’s neck once more, no doubt leaving a mark that will follow him for days. He’ll have to cover his neck at work, and explain to Renjun why he’s been mauled by an animal.

The thought nearly makes him laugh again, but then his brain catches up to what Jeno has said, and he reminds himself to thank whatever god may be listening later.

“Okay,” Jaemin says with a stunted nod, his neck still occupied with Jeno’s little kisses. He can’t seem to stop kissing Jaemin, needing to touch him if he can’t be inside of him yet. “Then fuck me.” Jaemin clears his throat, cheeks flushing even more red when Jeno’s head lifts like a meerkat. “Please.”

A soft groan buzzes past Jeno’s lips, his features twisting in what looks like agony as he comes down to steal Jaemin in a proper kiss. He’s more messy with it, tongue dipping into his mouth and against the back of his teeth. Jeno is tasting him, and his hands spread Jaemin’s thighs once again, letting their bodies slot together that much more.

Jaemin tangles his fingers in Jeno’s silver hair, panting into their kiss that tastes like all things unreal. Only hours ago, Jaemin was telling himself he’d never get to touch Jeno again, and that his silly fantasy had come to an end. Minutes ago, Jaemin was being told that he’s someone’s mate for life. 

Now though, one of Jeno’s hands slips down between them, teasingly brushing against Jaemin’s entrance before wrapping around his own cock. He guides them together, and a gasp buzzes between them. Jaemin is unsure who’s mouth it comes from. 

The first press of Jeno’s cock makes Jaemin shudder, the head slipping in with ease thanks to the various fluids helping them along. Jaemin doesn’t know if it’s an alien thing, but Jeno produces a lot of precome, and his spit has yet to dry. From head to toe, Jaemin is covered in evidence of Jeno, things that are both fleeting and that will leave permanent marks.

Jaemin thinks of the burns on Jeno’s skin, and he silently promises to leave just as much behind of his own presence on Jeno’s body. Jeno deserves to be cherished, to be chosen and not just simply owned. So much hurt can’t be changed in a single evening, but Jaemin can try, and he whines into the kiss with each inch that’s slowly pushed into his willing body.

When Jeno is flush to the backs of Jaemin’s thighs, Jaemin lets himself relax a bit, his body sagging as Jeno pulls back from their messy kiss. The moon is shining in through the sheer curtains, illuminating the iridescent glow that moves over his perfect skin. He’s practically sparkling, colors rippling as if the sun were reflecting off of smooth water. It's so much more intense than before, brighter and faster than the other flooding of pinks and golds. This is a display of utter bliss, of happiness that Jaemin doesn't even know what to do with.

Jaemin squirms around the new feeling of Jeno’s cock inside of him, the ridges pressing right up against his prostate and making his own neglected length twitch against his stomach. He’s not going to last long, but Jeno won’t blame him for it.

“Move,” Jaemin pants, “you can move.”

And Jeno does.

His hips slowly drag back, languidly pulling his cock out just enough that the head catches on Jaemin’s rim. He teases it a few times, making Jaemin whimper in protest. And because Jeno is too soft for him, he obeys, thrusting back in to start a sure and steady rhythm.

All of that strength that Jeno keeps inside is coming out now, Jaemin’s bed shifting with each drag of Jeno’s cock, in and out. The squelch of his saliva is obscene with the fast pace, and Jaemin’s entire body wraps around him, clinging to him for dear life.

The feeling is indescribable, Jaemin’s body succumbing to the fact that it is no longer in control. Jeno’s cock is so thick, filling him up in ways that feel like they should be impossible. Those ridges are like the sex toy of Jaemin’s dream, and soft moans are punched out of him each time Jeno’s hips meet thigh.

It’s perfect, so simple yet insane in every way. Their bodies are glistening with sweat, making them stick wherever they touch. Jeno pants into Jaemin’s ear as he fucks him, whispering words in the language that he sometimes lets slip. Jaemin hopes its sweet words, or more begging. It’s so nice to hear Jeno beg.

“Fuck— Jeno—”

Jaemin moans his name, broken and sweet as his insides begin to coil with rogue heat. Flames creep up his spine, making every inch of Jaemin’s body burn. His skin is too tight on his limbs, muscles clenching as if they want to rip free. Jeno is fucking right up against his prostate, his arms caging Jaemin in as if he means to keep him hidden from something.

Perhaps Jaemin likes being hidden. Let Jeno hide him away like an animal in a den, because Jaemin would gladly hide with him. There is no world that is better without Jeno in it, no existence that would somehow be made easier because Jeno is not there. Jaemin feels it with such certainty, his nails digging into the flexing muscle of Jeno’s back and dotting him with little crescents.

Jeno comes from the stars, after all, and Jaemin wants to mark him with constellations that only he can see. It’s selfish and indulgent, but they’ve earned that right. For too long, they’ve both been at the mercy of what the world has done to them, and Jaemin doesn’t want to live a half-life anymore.

Jaemin wants to live like this, with Jeno’s body melting into his own and his lips against his skin. Jaemin wants to go to bed with aching thighs and wake up with bruises, and he’ll take the wails from his friends and a lungful of water. For once, Jaemin wants to live recklessly, because Jeno is not something that is meant to be tamed.

Jeno is an experience, an exploding galaxy that bursts in colors across the sky. Jaemin’s eyes hurt from how hard he squeezes them shut against the blinding light of it all, and his insides tighten with a promise of release.

“Jaemin, I—I’m gonna come,” Jeno mutters with his nose against Jaemin’s cheek, lips brushing Jaemin’s ear and making him shiver. It’s as if they’re in sync, feeding off of each other’s need until there’s nothing but desperation.

Jeno’s hips falter, his thrusts becoming messy as he moans into Jaemin’s skin like he’s whispering a prayer. Jaemin’s cock leaks against his stomach with the friction from their flush bodies, sending jolts of pleasure out to his limbs. Seconds bleed into each other, one moment melding into the next. The room is filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and Jaemin’s squeaking bed, and it all builds into one deafening sensation.

Jaemin thinks of the stars in the sky, and he thinks of the ocean waves carrying him out to sea. Each messy thrust brings images of milky galaxies and seafoam green, colors that don’t even exist playing in his mind’s eye until there’s nothing but blinding white.

It all comes crashing down at once, Jaemin’s lips parting with a scream of Jeno’s name as he comes in warm ribbons between them. It’s his first declaration of devotion, a love letter dipped in white ink. Jeno kisses away the sharp sound, swallowing it down as he thrusts once, twice, body seizing up like a lighting strike. 

Jaemin is filled with warmth, covered in it from head to toe. Everything burns and the room spins into nothingness, the dark blue of the night sky weighing heavy on him like a blanket. It’s still early, probably before 10pm, and Jaemin feels as if he’s lived through three different days as his limbs tingle with numbness, the comedown happening in waves.

Jeno collapses next to him, slipping out with a groan of annoyance from them both. He probably didn’t mean to just yet, but Jaemin will need to clean the sheets anyway, so he ignores the feeling of warm cum dripping down over his ass and onto the mattress below.

Instead, Jaemin rolls over to curl into Jeno’s waiting arms, covering them both with whatever blanket he is able to grab from the mess they’ve made of Jaemin’s bedding. He’s still warm from exertion, but the sweat is starting to cool, and Jaemin feels like suffocating in the heat for just a little bit longer.

“I think you killed me,” Jaemin mutters against Jeno’s chest, his lips feeling swollen from how often they’ve been bitten. “I’m dead.”

Jeno laughs warmly above him, his arms squeezing Jaemin again as if he just can’t believe he’s real. It’s sweet, and kind of domestic, and Jaemin thinks he could get used to every second of it.

“What can I say?” Jeno asks with a lilt of teasing to his voice, his fingers gently running up and down Jaemin’s back. “I warned you that I was lethal.”

It’s a stupid joke. A lame, cheesy joke. But Jaemin laughs anyway, because sometimes that's all you can do.

🛸 

The smell of eggs makes Jaemin’s body stir, his eyes blinking open to the mid-morning sun bleeding in from behind his sheer curtains. 

He sits up in bed, finding it empty and not questioning why. Jeno has always had a weird sleep schedule, so Jaemin drags himself out of the nest of blankets to find out where he’s gone off to. He slips a shirt over his boxers, hiding the marks that litter his chest and between his thighs. Jeno is… enthusiastic to say the least, and his stamina is crazy. Jaemin doesn’t know how many times he woke him up in the middle of the night for some quick blowjobs or grinding beneath the sheets.

Jaemin was happy to oblige, but his skin feels rubbed raw and sensitive, and he pads out on shaky legs to follow the comforting smell of breakfast.

In the kitchen, Jeno is carefully pouring something from the pan onto two paper plates. Once Jaemin gets closer, he can see that it’s scrambled eggs, yellow and fluffy and mixed with cheese. Jeno has made him breakfast, and his heart feels like it’s going to explode from sweetness. 

“You’re awake,” Jeno says without turning his back, probably able to sense that Jaemin woke up from the moment his eyes blinked. “Sit. I’ll bring it to you.”

Jaemin’s too sleepy to argue, and he’d be a liar if he said it’s not nice to be doted on. Plus, Jeno has successfully used the stove, so he’s not going to stop him now. 

“Thank you,” Jaemin hums with a smile as Jeno trails behind him with their plates, setting Jaemin’s down once he’s sitting. 

Jeno sits right across from him, and Jaemin realizes then that there’s already a fork and some ketchup on the table, as well as two little glasses of juice. This is so… adorable. Dear God, Jeno is adorable. He’s thoughtful and kind and he just wants something to take care of, and Jaemin is so glad that it’s him. 

“I figured you needed some, what do you call it? Sustenance?” Jeno says with an edge of playfulness to his voice, shoveling a bite of eggs into his mouth while pushing the bottle of ketchup towards Jaemin. “My sweat is laced with Raxxin pheromones so I smell more aggressive in fights, it helps to get the more stupid creatures riled up so they’re sloppy.” 

Okay… Jaemin doesn’t really know what any of that means, or how it’s relevant, so he grabs the ketchup bottle instead of answering. It’s even tooth-achingly sweet that Jeno remembers that’s how he likes his eggs, though the smug look on his face is the opposite of that. 

“It also makes humans a bit more eager during sex, which is purely on accident,” Jeno finally adds while spooning another bite into his mouth, his lips turned up in a way that he’s almost positive he had to have been taught. Never has Jeno been so… confident, but it’s kind of attractive on him. 

Jaemin used to have a hard time imagining him killing something, or anyone. For the longest time he’s been the clumsy and reckless little alien that needs to be kept away from sharp objects. As he gets more comfortable though, Jaemin can see how lethal he would have been, because he’s just as susceptible to being taken down. 

With much to think about, Jaemin finishes his breakfast in relative silence, his foot propped up on Jeno’s knee beneath the table. He’s not an alien, but now that Jeno has claimed him as his mate, and all that, Jaemin kinda feels different too. He wants to cling to Jeno and never let go, or have sex like rabbits until someone’s dick inevitably falls off. 

No, Jaemin’s not an alien, but humans aren’t much better when it comes to the honeymoon phase. 

“I should probably call Renjun,” Jaemin says as he watches Jeno grab their empty plates and toss them in the trash, their forks clattering into the sink a second later. “I need to apologize for things getting so heated.”

Jeno nods even if his face doesn’t look like he agrees much, but he knows better than to say anything bad about Renjun. They’ve been on each other’s nerves since Jeno got here, but it’ll get better. Jaemin can’t say that he and Renjun were best of friends right away either. In a lot of ways, Renjun and Jeno are so similar that it makes them clash. Both stubborn, hot-headed, protective little demons that are always sure they’re right. But underneath all the roughage, they’re both angels, and Jaemin loves them both.

“Are you going to tell him what happened?” Jeno asks while turning on the sink, washing the forks right away so that they don’t sit. He’s also learned some of Renjun’s habits while Jaemin’s been at work it seems. “That we’re together now?”

The mere idea makes Jaemin’s head hurt, because he knows that Renjun will fucking explode. It has to happen though, and Jaemin groans as he slides his phone off the table.

“Yeah, I guess I should. I just wish that—”

Bzz. Bzz. Bzz.

Jaemin jumps when his phone starts ringing just as he’s unlocked it, Renjun’s caller ID showing up on the screen as if he’s been watching them through the windows.

“Oh great, his ears must have been burning,” Jaemin grumbles as he answers the phone, bringing it to his ear and preparing for the scolding of a lifetime. He parts his lips to try and speak first, to get a single word in, but Renjun has never let that happen. 

“Jaemin, there are aliens outside of your fucking house,” Renjun whisper-yells through the phone, a rustling sound making him break up in static. “They’re in suits but they have these shiny ray guns straight out of Men In Black. I came by to apologize and now I'm hiding in a bush.”

A knock on the door makes Jaemin’s head whip over to look at Jeno, his shoulders already tight. He looks back at Jaemin from the sink with an apology in his eyes, and Jaemin feels his heart drop straight to the floor.

“Hello? Earth to Jaemin?”

“Yeah, yeah we’re thinking,” Jaemin mutters as he stands from the kitchen table, gesturing for Jeno to stay put but knowing that it’s fruitless. 

The knock comes again, and Jaemin pads over to the front door on bare feet. Jeno shuffles up behind him, loyal to the end, and Jaemin tries to think of literally anything that could save him in this moment. 

They can’t take Jeno, they just… can’t. Jaemin just got him, and he was supposed to have at least a little more time before their actions caught up to them. This is too soon, it’s too soon and it’s not fair and just because he came from space doesn’t mean he belongs there. He’s a person just like Jaemin, just like everyone on earth, and—and…

Jaemin runs out of excuses as he unlocks the front door, twisting the knob and pulling it open as if this were just a pizza delivery. 

Sure enough, standing on his doorstep in black suits and sporting black sunglasses are two seemingly normal men. Jeno’s hand curls around his waist from behind, the picture of domesticity, and Jaemin thinks he might as well pray. 

“Jaemin Na?” One of the men asks while pulling a badge out of his pocket, flashing an ID card that’s written with the same symbols burned into Jeno’s skin. “We’re with the Intergalactic Council and we have reason to believe you’re harboring an experiment.”

Jeno stiffens behind him, his other hand coming up to hold Jaemin’s shoulder, as if he can hold on if they try to tear them apart. 

“We don’t want to bother you at home, sir, but all experiments are to be kept at our main holding ship, and the creator of ZNO-423 is on trial for illegal experiment fighting.” The other man, a slightly taller one with ugly red hair and a scar on his jaw, takes out a slip of paper and a pen, holding both out for Jaemin to take. “If you’ll just grab the experiment wherever you’re hiding it and hand it over, we’ll be out of your hair.”

Confused, Jaemin turns back to look at Jeno, seeing the scrunch of his brow as if he too has no idea what’s going on. Jeno has said that he’s not a typical experiment, but what are they expecting? Some little dog creature with blue fur and four arms? 

“I am ZNO-423, sir,” Jeno says after a bout of awkward silence, reaching over Jaemin to grab the paper and crumple it in his fist. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

The two agents look at each other, having a silent conversation that Jaemin can’t decipher through their sunglasses. Something isn’t right, clearly, but them being caught off guard might just be what Jaemin needs.

“Oh my garlag,” the redhead mutters, rolling his shoulder as if it aches. 

“You’re a human,” the other man says with a sigh, tilting his head to examine Jeno from top to bottom. “I’m sorry, but this needs to be reported to the council. I can’t let you stay here—”

“WAIT!”

A rustling sound pulls everyones attention out towards the bushes in front of Jaemin’s house, Renjun emerging from them with leaves in his hair and a stick stuck to his shirt. He nearly stumbles as he comes out onto the gravel, but he rights himself, coming up around the agents to slip inside the house where Jeno and Jaemin stand.

“You can’t take him,” Renjun says, pointing his finger in that way he does when he wants to get a point across.

“I’m afraid we have to. He’s illegal, contraband, and he’ll need to be there for the hearing if—”

“NO! You see, it’s not possible because… because…”

“Because we’re getting married!”

Jaemin blurts it out before he can stop himself, clinging to the one thing that he remembers from this whirlwind of the past few months. The Galactic Council is very strict about rules, and if Jaemin makes them think they’re breaking an earth law, maybe they'll back off.

It’s a cheap shot, but it’s worth a try, and Jaemin squeezes Jeno’s hand tighter.

“Marriage is a binding earth contract stating that he’ll stay with me until we die. If you take him now, you’ll be breaking that contract,” Jaemin explains with a quick glance over at Renjun, shrugging when he’s met with his friend’s eyes nearly bulging out of his skull. 

“That’s… correct,” Jeno adds with a nod, tossing the crumpled paper behind him like its nothing more than a candy wrapper. “We’re partners, mates. I have agreed to sign this marriage contract, so I belong to Jaemin now.”

Jaemin feels a tug on his arm, and Renjun yanks him just out of view behind the door frame with a very fake, very non-believable chuckle.

“Jaemin, you can’t get married. Jeno doesn’t even have a social security card,” Renjun whispers through gritted teeth, his grip fighting for how tightly Jeno is still holding onto him.

“Well let's hope the aliens don’t know that,” Jaemin whispers back before righting himself, smiling at the Council agents in the hopes that it looks sincere. 

They’re whispering something to each other, a muttered you ever heard of this? And I think so. I saw it on a vid once.

Jaemin is practically holding his breath, but when the agents part to look at them once more, his chest nearly wants to collapse in on itself.

“So you two are… going to get married?" Mr. Redhead asks as he tucks the pen into his coat pocket, showing the silver blaster that looks like its straight out of The Jetsons. “You’re legally bound?”

What a doozy of a question. Jaemin never imagined himself getting married, if he’s honest. He also never imagined meeting an alien, or falling in love with that alien, so perhaps he’s not the best at predicting stuff. Who is? In the grand scheme of things.

Jaemin looks over at Jeno, a gentle smile on his face with a silent question in his eyes. He won’t go through with this if it’s not what Jeno wants, but Jeno is already smiling at him, his skin rippling with relieved shades of pastel blue and pretty pink. Seeing that pink is like feeling a kiss on Jaemin’s cheek, a reminder that he’s always been a part of Jeno from the start. 

This doesn’t have to be scary, and Jeno nods with enough certainty for the both of them.

“Yes, we’re getting married, so Jeno doesn’t belong to his creator anymore.”

Jeno’s grip becomes so harsh that Jaemin feels his fingers pop, his body buzzing with nerves. Everyone’s banking on these Council agents weighing the outcomes in their favor, hoping that their absolute law applies to things that are tentatively going to happen. They’re not actually married yet, but Jaemin will hold a ceremony right now if he has to.

“Alright,” the shorter man says with a sigh, taking a step back to show his acquiescence. “We’re not too keen on breaking the council’s biggest law, so if you two love birds say you’re getting married, so be it.”

Mr. Redhead sighs again, but he nods, adjusting his sunglasses on his face.

“We’ll file the paperwork and be back to check on this marriage in five years. If the contract still isn’t legally binding by then, we’ll have to take him in. Have a nice day.”

Five years?

Renjun erupts with a disbelieving laugh at their side, his hand coming up to slap over his own mouth. Jaemin kind of wants to laugh too, but he holds it together, waving the agents away as they step off the porch and back to their car. Jeno shuts the door the moment they begin to pull out of the driveway, and Jaemin turns to him with tears welling in his eyes.

“Oh my God,” Renjun wheezes as he collapses to his knees, his laughter shaking his shoulders. “Oh my God, you idiots did it.”

He’s practically hysterical, wiping away tears that are streaming down his cheeks. Jaemin starts laughing too, because this is all so ridiculous. His life is fucking ridiculous.

But then Jeno is there, grinning so wide that Jaemin can see every one of his shiny teeth. His hand is still on Jaemin’s waist, holding him close as his skin ripples that iridescent shade. It’s the colors of pure bliss, of unending joy, and Jaemin tugs Jeno down into a kiss that tastes like eggs and possibilities.

Renjun laughs even harder.