Archive of Our Own

"Right—right there," a panted breath, smothered into the bedsheets that had just been washed—so much for that—followed by the soft fabric curling under his fingers, nearly all he could do to keep his knees from giving out entirely. 

"You like that?" Jaemin has the audacity to ask, exasperated, as if it wasn't very clear how good it felt by the perpetual whine in his voice alone, but then daring to act surprised when Donghyuck responds with nothing more than a breathy, and frankly weak, curse, and Jaemin digs his nails into Donghyuck's hips while he lets a few matching expletives crumble from his lips afterward.  

"I think—" Donghyuck starts, with the intention of addressing Jaemin as the whore he is, but then the bastard tugs, and all cognitive thought is lost behind whatever illiteracy was then drooled into the mattress. 

"Think what?" 

"Go to hell," Donghyuck groans, terrible terrible images of Jaemin's hand around his throat and the faint sound of his disgustingly sexy voice saying 'make me' flooding his mind with no consent whatsoever, and he knows the chuckle that follows wasn't just his hyperactive imagination. But it was that breathy tone, that my ego is a damn lie whisp that means he enjoys this just as much as Donghyuck does. 

Which he doesn't. 

Not by any means. 

In fact he hates how his back arches with electricity, muscles constricting in every single right place, and his knuckles turn white against the sheets, but he hates even more how he chases it, matches Jaemin's pace, rides the high until it's dead, and ends up helplessly orgasm riddled and dead weight under Jaemin's horribly (perfectly) shaped body. 

Again. 

For the third time that week. 

"I'm staring to believe you enjoy suffocating me," he forces, acutely aware of every finger that delicately twirls the ends of his dampened hair, rational thoughts telling him to bite them, intrusive thoughts curious how far he could fit them down his throat. Maybe that was the sex talking. Maybe he just wanted to be suffocated. 

"I've offered to bottom before," Jaemin says with disgusting simplicity, as if that was just okay to state, fingers softly running along his jaw. "You always decline." He dares to trail his lips across the nape of Donghyuck's neck. "I think you just like being beneath me."

Scratch that. He wants Jaemin to suffocate. 

"Get off me," he huffs, another weak demand, especially considering his inability to do anything about Jaemin's inevitable defiance, but so help him, he is taking a shower before he falls asleep this time.

"No round two?" Jaemin snickers. Oh, if murder was legal. 

"No," Donghyuck snaps, now weakly trying to shove Jaemin off himself. Jaemin's legs pinning down his entire waist and chest pressed quite perfectly against his back didn't make this easy, but Donghyuck has never been the type to do anything the easy way. Jaemin is simply amused. Ha. Donghyuck's struggling was amusing to him. A great point of notice. "Get off me, Jaemin."

"Hm," Jaemin starts, and Donghyuck drops his face into the pillow, already angry, knowing exactly what was about to leave Jaemin's mouth. "I'm not begging you to let me move in my own damn house," he says with assurance, polluted by the smothering of a pillow to his face. "Get a life, whore." 

"But it's fun watching you squirm," Jaemin hums. "How you say my name like you love me."

Donghyuck pulls his hands up to squeeze at his hair, still stuck under Jaemin with his face buried in a pillow. "I hate you."

"You could always just tap out of the competition," Jaemin all but coos into his ear, dragging his lips down to the lobe, his teeth leaving a little nippy mark, and Donghyuck would rather choke than ever shiver like that again. Damnit. 

"And you could always just kill yourself," he sputters back, turning his head just enough that it came out clearly. "I've been working for this raise for months."

"And I haven't?" A hand Donghyuck cannot see is trailing across the side of his ribs, dipping just too far to be considered affectionate, playing that awful game he always does, but Donghyuck refuses to relent this time. Jaemin has already won too many times. "Consider me, Hyuck. I have bills to pay."

"Then get out of my house and utilize your own electric bill," Donghyuck puffs, and then makes the grandiose mistake of shifting to make eye contact. And so help him, god, because it was no man above him anymore. That was Satan himself wearing Jaemin's slightly swollen smile. 

"Y'know what I haven't done in a while?" He asks, arching up to fully utilize this position to his advantage, outline of his collarbones drawing Donghyuck's line of sight right up his throat, until they got stuck on his eyes again, like they always did. 

Donghyuck swallows, falling deep into the void that rested in Jaemin's irises, his ashy salmon-toned hair a disaster on his head, half matted to his forehead, half stuck up wildly and quite obviously tugged on. He hates how perfect he is. "What."

The grin grows sickeningly sweet, honey on his lips, as he lets up to give Donghyuck the room to shift around on his back, now completely victim to the sheer power Jaemin has when he looks down at him like he would eat him alive. "Used my exception card."

Donghyuck scoffs, for once, genuinely believing this was a joke. "Yeah, okay." If there was a nervous quiver in his breath, he would never admit it. 

"I think I have quite the buildup of points, Hyuck," he delicately runs his thumb across Donghyuck's jaw, up to softly wipe at his lips. "I've been a fair player."

"You're not serious," Donghyuck nearly demands, though it comes out as a plea. Because that was the problem—if Jaemin was serious, there was not a word he could say to defend himself. 

"Oh, I think I am," he sweetly brushes the hair from Donghyuck's eyes, the gesture a threat to so much more than his pride. "You're already so sensitive, it'd be a shame to not make use of that."

Torture. 

This was quite literally consensual torture.

"You're gonna waste it now?" He has to scoff. If he didn't, it would be a sound much more shameful. Why was he stupid enough to agree to any of this in the first place? 

Jaemin rubs tiny circles into Donghyuck's hip. "I think you'd rather this over something impromptu," he noses over Donghyuck's neck, smile pressed so softly against his throat. He's horrible. "Like the night I'm given the raise, for example."

"You're not getting the damn raise, Jaemin," Donghyuck's hands find Jaemin's back, skin like velvet under his nails, and he's staring at his ceiling for unreachable mercy. Jaemin might have his fun, but he won't be leaving unscathed. It's not nearly as fair of a trade as Donghyuck wishes it was. 

"We'll see," a feathery kiss to his jaw, right below his ear, and Donghyuck is determined to enact his revenge so hard something breaks. 

Remind him to never negotiate sex ever again. 

************************************************

"You look like death," was the lovely greeting Donghyuck received the following atrocious Wednesday morning—forget Mondays, he had off Mondays. Mondays were heaven—not even accompanied by Renjun's usual smile to lighten the blow. 

"Thanks," he deadpans, sinking into his chair with a malice shown to all the world. "As if I didn't know that myself."

"Had to remind you," Renjun states, sipping his coffee from the stir-straw he always gets with it. Donghyuck takes a hearty sip of his own—scalding, there goes this week's tastebuds—caramel roast, and sets it back down with a wince. What a lovely start to the day. 

"I hope all your late nights are worth it," Renjun makes a look, mostly obscured by his glasses, but Donghyuck has learned the little glare read worry, and that was actually a lot, coming from him. "They haven't even opened up the top ten yet."

"I'll be on it," Donghyuck says, assuredly, because he will be. And so will nine other people, all of whom he will need to best in this atrocious corporate pissing match to secure his rightful position up top. "The hard part hasn't started yet."

"Do you have your bid figured out yet?" Renjun picks at his cuticles, a little furrow alight in his brow. He missed his last nail appointment due to a rash decision to join Chenle at a varsity basketball game, unaware Chenle was best friends with one of the players. He was kept an hour later than intended, and Donghyuck had to hear every last second of his complaints the following day. 

"Mostly," he takes another careful try at his coffee, successfully not exposing his tongue to the surface of the sun this time, and he clears his throat. "Have a few kinks to work out still, but it's solid."

"Better be," Renjun finishes staring at his nails, switching now to flicking around the straw in his mouth with his tongue. "Corporate is banking a lot on this one. Someone's better be worth the unveiling project."

"It is," Donghyuck says, and leaves it at that. If there was a hint of malice in his voice, it wasn't directed at Renjun, and he knows that Renjun would know that—hopes, actually, because Renjun's temper is on a thin line lately—and he takes another long sip of his coffee. 

"Whatever you're concocting in that big head of yours has the entire floor worked up," Renjun says, accentuating with the twirling of his wrist referring to said thoughts in Donghyuck's head, "to the point some people are saying the only thing you're planning to offer is a huge statement about your ego." He lets the underhanded insult sink in, before he tisks and shakes his head, taking to his cup. "But you've got it handled, I'm sure."

Donghyuck narrows his eyes, annoyedly tonguing his cheek with a forced half-smile, and taps at the lid of his coffee. "Screw corporate."

"They give you your paychecks," Renjun shrugs. 

"They can kiss my ass," Donghyuck cuts, emotionless. 

"Listen, just—don't..." Renjun sighs, shaking his head, before meeting his eyes. "Don't Donghyuck this, okay?" He bites at his lip at Donghyuck's clear look of displeasure. "For both of our sakes, don't take this lightly." 

"Never planned on it," he says, and proceeds to chug the rest of his coffee like it was water. Tasted better than water anyway. "In the meantime, how about you tell those corporate assholes to—"

A tap on Donghyuck's shoulder, interrupting his train of thought—perhaps for the better, considering Renjun didn't need to hear the rant he was about to let lose for a seventh time—and his attention is turned behind him to meet the interruption head on, and only when he fully processes the salmon color in his peripheral does he think to lower his hovering hand, and fight a glare. 

"Can I speak to you for a moment?" Asks the disgustingly professional voice of the demon himself, as he quirks his head in simple gesture to a hallway leading out of the lobby, and every argumentative petty part of Donghyuck wants to throw a fit in protest. 

"I was just leaving," he forces a jaw breaking smile, turning to bid Renjun farewell with a tiny nod and wave of his wrist, and Renjun returns it with an added wave of the straw in his mouth, while Donghyuck stands and straightens out his button-up, waiting for the way to be led. 

Saying nothing, Donghyuck is brought to a bathroom of all places, and before he even thinks to protest this inevitable headache of a conversation, the door is locked, and he crosses his arms with a lean against the sink that oozed with his annoyance. "I knew you were a freak, but getting frisky in the bathroom is stooping to a new low, even for you, Jaemin."

"Don't get your hopes up," Jaemin stuffs his hands in his pockets and leans against the door, a matching sheen of displeasure written all over his face. Donghyuck likes the way his pretty face looks when it's muddled with upset, and makes a very prominent mental note to make sure he sees it again. "You'd complain too much to get anywhere in the first place."

"Wanna test that theory?" Donghyuck scoffs. "College graduates would argue the best head they've ever gotten was in a stall considerably less sanitary than these."

"I don't trust you to not attempt to neuter me," Jaemin prods right back, leaning further into the door. "But that's not why I wanted to talk."

"Oh, you're resigning? Right. Drop your groveling letter at my desk, I'll throw it away properly there," Donghyuck makes a movement towards the door, but Jaemin steps in front of the lock and crosses his arms with the motion, as if it was in slow motion. 

"Talking. I said I want to talk."

"Talk to a wall, you'll get farther," Donghyuck glares. "I have work to do."

"Don't we all," Jaemin scoffs. "If I didn't have to talk to you, I wouldn't."

Donghyuck groans, tossing his head back as he does, before leaning back with exhaustion threatening to overpower the caffeine. "What."

Jaemin glares for a moment, but then softens, sighing, as he tugs lightly at his shirt in the effort to untuck it, and Donghyuck raises a brow. 

"Changed your mind did you?" He crosses his arms again, rather entertained with the apparent struggle Jaemin was having with removing his shirt. He could feel the glare under the fabric. 

"No," Jaemin huffs, finally getting his sleeves off his arms, and sliding the fabric off his shoulders, and no, Donghyuck was not staring. For very long. 

"I need you to look at my back," he admits, surprisingly melancholy, as he collects the shirt around his waist, sleeves bunched at his wrists. "Because I'm pretty sure you broke the skin."

Donghyuck scoffs, a mix of offense and pride at the thought, amplified by how unamused Jaemin's expression was. "Can't handle a little scratch?"

"Your nails are goddamn razors," Jaemin glares, the most visible vein in his neck bulging slightly. "It feels like I was mauled by a cheese grater."

"That's a tad extreme don't you think?" Donghyuck lulls, but as Jaemin turns around, he has to fight from wincing at the sheer amount of red he saw. It wasn't blood—with maybe a few small exceptions—but it sure as hell couldn't have felt good against a stiff collared work shirt. Or frankly anything for that matter. 

"..ah." 

"Yeah, ah," Jaemin huffs. "How bad is it?"

"Not—on what kind of scale? I mean you're not in any danger of bleeding out, but—"

"How bad is it, Donghyuck," Jaemin glares at him over his shoulder. 

Donghyuck lets go of a held breath. "It's pretty bad." 

He almost felt remorse. But, then, he remembers with unfortunate detail the circumstances that resulted in this painful mural, and he loses that twinge of sympathy almost immediately. The bruises on his hips would like to voice their concerns before this conversation ended. 

Jaemin sighs, tiredly, and works to fight his shirt back over his shoulders. Donghyuck definitely wouldn't mind the removal of Jaemin's exposed skin in his face. No ghosted images and phantom feelings left behind at all. 

"I have to wear this awful thing all day," Jaemin remarks, fixing his tie back into place. 

"First time meeting karma is it?" Donghyuck lets a flutter of a smirk cross his lips. "She's great ain't she."

Jaemin simply glares a bit more avidly, tucking his shirt back under his belt. 

"Was it worth it?" Donghyuck pushes, evil glinting against his eyes as the smirk widens, and he leans into the sink more leisurely. "Was that damn joker card everything you'd hope it be?"

"Hearing you writhe and beg and stutter half the night?" Jaemin raises a brow, challenging. Donghyuck's nostrils flare. "Very worth it."

Donghyuck tongues at his cheek again, annoyed smile growing across his face. "Then stop complaining."

Jaemin takes a relaxed step forward, hands back in his pockets, and he quirks his head to the side. "What made you think I was complaining?"

"Maybe the complaining tone of your voice?" Donghyuck tilts his head right back. "Just a wild guess. My bad."

"What if I just wanted you to see the fruits of your labor?" Jaemin smirks. 

Choke. And die. Violently.  

"And what did you expect from that, huh?" Donghyuck fights back any reaction he can think to ignore, keeping his eyes heavy and his annoyance clear. Faintly, he can smell the coffee on Jaemin's breath. Because the psychopath drinks it buffed to five hundred percent caffeine. "Did you expect me to praise you or something?"

"You did plenty of that last night," Jaemin says with simplicity, and Donghyuck feels a faint heat in the back of his throat. "Maybe I just wanted to see."

"See what?" Donghyuck huffs, flatly. 

Jaemin tilts his head the other direction, and keeps the smirk. He says nothing. 

Donghyuck scoffs. 

"Great," he presses forward. "Lovely, even. Stalled from work for nothing."

"What, were you hoping for something?" Jaemin drawls, clearly amused. God, that changed fast. 

"Again," Donghyuck meets his eyes again, the sugary warm brown hue burrowing right into his brain, implanting a sense of belonging that Donghyuck hates more than Jaemin himself. "Not in a bathroom. I'm above that."

Jaemin encroaches, hanging his head low, the shadows of his face accentuating his faint smile, and Donghyuck adds this to the list of 'angles nobody should look hot in, exception: Na Jaemin.' "You sure?"

"Very," Donghyuck pushes for the door, unlocking it and yanking on the handle, not bothering to give Jaemin so much as a last glance before he heads for his office. He shrugs off that entire encounter with a shudder, always left surprised by how deep Jaemin manages to get under his skin.

He hopes every single line marred across Jaemin's back burns with the fires of hell. 

************************************************

"Posted?" 

"Yeah," Donghyuck gestures almost pointlessly at his screen, leaning back in his desk chair while Seonghwa—his coworker, head of the "ass kisser" department—hovers over his shoulder, leaning into his desk with his palms spread all to far over Donghyuck's belongings. "My bid has been posted for days."

"No, that can't be right," Seonghwa sputters some nonsense about it being 'far too soon to be ready,' and Donghyuck tunes him out with a bored glare aimed relatively towards his face. 

The rest of Wednesday had gone rather smoothly, no further interruptions from an unwanted corporate email or a nosy Renjun, and best of all, Jaemin free. Thursday followed suit and was exponentially boring, but Wonwoo responded to his request near the end of his shift, and that just about made his entire week worthwhile, and sent him into Friday with a little pep in his step. 

But then Park ass-kisser Seonghwa had to start meddling in his business, because that is all he ever does, and Donghyuck does not have the patience to deal with it right now. 

"—because they'll write it off as incomplete without looking at it," he finishes, turning now to actually see the soulless expression Donghyuck has had trained on him for the last five minutes. "..and it won't..hey, are you listening?"

"No," he states flatly, and Seonghwa stiffens out uncomfortably. Good. "You done yet?"

"Right," Seonghwa puts on a customer service smile, and finally walks away, leaving Donghyuck free to work in peace. 

He manages to be productive, shaken free from his annoyance, deleting several unread emails in record time, before a buzz on his personal cell snaps him out of it again. 

And before he can formulate a good insult to whatever pointless detail of Jisung's barista glory Renjun decided to share this time, he notices the number was unmarked, and his heart sinks. With a small tap, he answers, and half the air in his lungs grows stiff. 

"Hello?" 

"Is this Lee Donghyuck speaking?"

"This is," he pulls his free hand up to his mouth, mindlessly tugging at his bottom lip as he settles back into his chair. His brain muffles half the words he hears from the other end, but he sticks through enough to warrant a small "okay," before letting go of his captive breath. 

"It's stable for the time being, but there has not yet been any signs of improvement. We plan on increasing the dosage in the morning, and seeing if that helps, and we will notify you of any significant changes."

Donghyuck nods, uncomfortably, and hums a few otherwise incoherent responses, before the woman on the other ends hangs up, and he is left with a beep. 

So much for the pep in his step. 

Just then, a notification appears on his monitor, and he almost wants to laugh at the timing of such a distraction. 

-The projects listed for The Unveiling must be submitted by the end of the week, and will be reviewed thoroughly by Tuesday morning-

Various thumbs ups are sent in acknowledgment, and Donghyuck closes the tab. Too soon, huh Seonghwa?

But that distraction isn't good enough. He already knows he'll be on that list, and he doesn't want to start thinking competition until he knows the rest of his competitors. 

In the meantime, he has instant ramen and deep sleep to look forward to, per the usual Friday night escapades. Donghyuck needs that stress reliever more than he'd anticipated. 

************************************************

"You're actually on time, I'm shocked," is his greeting as he closes the off-white door of the apartment, coat slung over his arm, car keys in hand. 

"Wasn't held back today," he tosses his keys lazily on the lamp stand, and drapes his coat over the back of the couch while he toes off his shoes. "And I didn't stop home for anything. I wasn't supposed to get any drinks, right?"

"Nah, still have enough left from last week." Jaemin shifts from the island counter he was stood behind to reach for something in the dish drain, drying it off with a paper towel. "I think I accidentally got the spicy version this time, so sorry in advance."

He trails over with two bowls in hand, chopsticks poking out from each one, and he hands one to Donghyuck and takes the seat beside him on the couch. "Any movie request?"

Donghyuck shakes his head, stirring around the noodles in his bowl, sighing. "I can't pay attention right now. I'd fall asleep." 

Jaemin nods, shifting to get comfortable, and takes a hearty bite from his noodles. "Fair enough."

"How's your back doing?" Donghyuck gingerly takes his own bite, expecting the heat to be overpowering and ruin the flavor, but he was pleasantly surprised that they tasted really good. Maybe even better than the regular kind. 

"Oh, now you're sympathetic?" Jaemin snickers. 

Donghyuck turns a tired glare. "I'm not soulless."

Jaemin keeps the grin, and shrugs a little, stirring around his noodles to get an extra saturated clump. "It's mostly better now, just itches where it had to scab."

Donghyuck cringes. It really wasn't that bad, but the fact he had managed to actually split skin in multiple places—even if tiny—was a lot to process. 

Jaemin must have noticed his inner contemplations, and a sheen of malice crosses his eyes. "Don't worry, plans haven't changed."

Donghyuck shoots a narrow-eyed glare to the side, then shoves a mouthful of noodles into his face. 

"Don't choke," Jaemin grins. "I won't have a turn."

He is then kicked. 

Returning to his own noodles with a stupid grin, Jaemin scoots slightly away as a form of surrender. 

"Has your division set a deadline yet?" Donghyuck asks, consuming his noodles much faster than he usually would. 

"End of this week," Jaemin says, half into another mouthful. "Why? I thought we didn't talk work outside of the workplace."

"That's not the same," Donghyuck huffs. "Just wondered about the deadline because my branch put one out for the end of this week too."

"Ill prepared are you?" Jaemin tosses over an inquiring glance, half his face hidden by his bowl. 

"No, mine is already submitted," he glares in return. "I was just curious."

"Mine is too," Jaemin keeps his eyes stuck on Donghyuck's, and he feels it even when he looks away. "In case that was your actual question."

It wasn't, because Donghyuck already knew he did. This is why Jaemin was so infuriating. He was the only one who matched Donghyuck's pace. 

"Noodles are shockingly good," he says as a deflection, finishing the last of them with another grand mouthful. "Get this kind more often."

"Didn't take you for someone who'd like spice," Jaemin quips, standing and extending a hand to take Donghyuck's bowl. "I'm honestly quite amused."

"Amused?" He hands over the bowl, joined by a slight sniffle. "Why amused?"

"I guess I just figured you'd be all sugary and candy coated," Jaemin shrugs, meandering over to his sink to deposit the bowls. "Renjun seems to think you're the sweetest thing on the planet."

"Renjun thinks Jisung is the sweetest thing on the planet," he huffs, snatching a tissue from the side desk to wipe his nose. "I'm very glad to not have that position in his mind." 

"But you're second place," Jaemin grins. He can hear it in his voice. "How is that any better?"

"It's not much," Donghyuck sighs, settling more comfortably into the couch. "Just saves me most of the cooing."

"But again," the sink turns off. "He thinks you're sweet."

"His standards aren't normal," Donghyuck cranes his head to watch as Jaemin returns to his seat, significantly closer than he was before. "I think his definition of sweet is just how much he likes a person."

"Hm," Jaemin quirks his head. "Guess I was right then."

An unwelcome flutter dances around Donghyuck's stomach, and he can't configure a proper glare to aim at Jaemin's face, resulting in undeniable longing to bleed from his eyes. And Jaemin notices, because his own usually sinister grin softens into something unfortunately beautiful, and Donghyuck is reminded of why he ever agreed to this unconventional arrangement in the first place. 

"Stop stalling," he says, much softer, lined with a hint of a rasp. "Just kiss me."

"Figured I'd give you a second to remember how much you hate me," Jaemin smiles, so softly, and then he obeys. 

And Donghyuck melts into it, into him, fingers curling up to lace through Jaemin's hair, eyes lulling shut, whispers pooling around his lips to be breathed in as a thank you. Because no matter how much he denies it, Donghyuck never feels safer than when he's tucked under Jaemin's wanting embrace, and it feels warmer than ever tonight. 

"Wait," Jaemin says, and Donghyuck tenses his arms around Jaemin's neck like a reflex he's had his entire life. "The drinks."

"Forget them," Donghyuck lets his hands fall gently below Jaemin's ears, delicately pressed against his neck instead. His skin was always so obscenely soft. "Wine wouldn't pair well with the noodles anyway."

Jaemin grins, and settles his weight back down where it had rested against Donghyuck's chest. "Good call." When he leans back in, into temptation and Donghyuck's pliable willingness, he opts for a soft nip at the skin of Donghyuck's neck, paired with his hands snaking comfortably around his waist, dipping slowly down to reach his hips. A pleasure Donghyuck wishes he never ever discovered, but is beyond thankful he did. 

"We moving first?" Jaemin asks directly against his throat. He follows up with a sweet kiss, ghosted by the presence of his teeth. 

"Your bed is too damn far away," Donghyuck huffs, mostly air. "But it's comfortable."

"Is that a yes?" Another kiss to his throat.

"It's a your bed is too damn far away," Donghyuck stares down, waiting for Jaemin to meet his eyes, and lets a singular shaky breath freely leave his parted lips when he does. 

"Comfort be damned," Jaemin says, and Donghyuck agrees with a wandering hand, sneaking under fabric to whisper against Jaemin's stomach, before pulling his shirt up and over his head. Stupid thing was useless anyway. And the way Jaemin's shoulders flexed when he finishes the job for him, reaching up to free his arms, stood only by his knees and the promise of whatever was to come—Donghyuck thinks he would never in his life find a man so perfectly sculpted, and is almost tempted to stop looking for one. If perfection was already within his grasp, why would he keep pursuing it?

"What's the territory here?" He asks, nearly breathless, far too turned on to care. "I don't think it's within either of our best interests to let me touch your back again right now."

"I considered that," Jaemin muses, taking the lull in the moment to readjust, now properly straddling Donghyuck's half laid down form, as the arm of the couch was now the substitute headrest, working slowly on unbuttoning Donghyuck's shirt. "Thought of two things."

"Which are?" Donghyuck tugs his shirt out from his pants, lifting each shoulder to allow Jaemin an easier time rolling it off his arms, tossing it carelessly to the floor when it had been done. 

"Option one, I simply hold your hands captive and don't let you carve me apart, protests be damned," Jaemin grins prettily, hazy shadow in his eyes, the brown hues in his hair illuminated by the light overhead. "Which I must admit sounds extremely appealing at the moment." 

Donghyuck's head spins. He's dizzy. 

"And option two?"

"Option two," Jaemin repeats, letting his head almost limply roll to the side, smile contorting his lips in the most divinely animalistic way possible to man, and he leans into it, like capturing the shadow he was casting over Donghyuck and making it his own. "I'll just be so slow and gentle it'll drive you mad." His fingers catch the loops of Donghyuck's pants. "But I'm not sure either of us have the patience for that."

Oh, it was hard to breathe. Or think. 

"Why does that feel like a challenge," Donghyuck encircles Jaemin's hand with his own, like a game, wondering where Jaemin was willing to take it. What he wouldn't say, is he simply craved more of Jaemin's touch. "Why does it feel like you want me to pick that. Like my own demise."

"I can't say that wouldn't be a perk of the ordeal," a single mockery of a laugh, "but it's a self sacrificing one." He leans a bit further over now, empty hand coming to rest beside Donghyuck's head, and he hovers there like a wolf aiming to kill. "Do you know how hard it is to not completely ruin you?" 

Donghyuck's stomach erodes into a lustful mess of intrigue and the ever present desire to make Jaemin eat every word he ever spoke. 

"How hard it is to know every filthy sound to leave your mouth, and not make you chant them like a plea for mercy?" 

Jaemin's saccharine voice reaches Donghyuck's ear, lips hovering where he knows it will be felt, and he lets his very pleased smile bleed into every word he uttered, sinfully, for nothing but Donghyuck's delirium to hear. "To make you writhe and stutter and choke on your own breath?" 

And then he leans back, returning to stare straight through Donghyuck's soul. "I've had it all before, so why shouldn't I take it all again?"

Donghyuck scoffs, or attempts to, with the remnants of the pathetically scarce amount of breath left in his lungs, and speaks with a heavy conviction on his tongue. 

"And you wonder why I always end up the bottom."

"I don't wonder at all," Jaemin smiles. "I just like to remind you."

"Remind me then," he states, the most effortless words he'd spoken all night. 

And yet again, Jaemin obeys. 

************************************************

"Hyuck," Renjun drawls, thick sappy wonder pooling in his eyes, face tucked and squished cutely in his palms as he leans over the table, and Donghyuck does nothing but hum in acknowledgment. "He has my order memorized."

"Chai latte, oat milk instead of regular, two pumps of sugar," Donghyuck nearly deadpans, not even turning to look at him, caught up with the analytics folder he had been pouring over all morning. "Not exactly the most complicated order out there."

"But there are so many orders to go through per day," he can hear the pout forming in Renjun's voice. "He can't have them all memorized."

"That so obviously means he wants to maul you," Donghyuck turns with an expression that bordered judgement, and for only half a second, Renjun thinks he's serious. The second he processes the sarcasm, he scrunches up his face, and glares. 

"You're a douche."

"You love me," he shrugs. 

"Unfortunately," Renjun sighs, folding further over the table. "Chenle doesn't even pretend to humor me anymore."

"I do actually care about the crap you tell me," Donghyuck peels his eyes from the folder to make sure Renjun saw him. "You just tend to choose bad times."

"It's either here or when I have a free night, and every time I've tried to stop by with a trashy rental you're not home," Renjun pouts. 

Donghyuck quirks a brow, narrowing his eyes in question, before he settles on the most normal response; "you could just text me and tell me you want to come over?"

"There's no fun in that," Renjun huffs, sitting up. "Where the hell are you anyway? I expect you to be lounging in your stupid teddy bear pjs on a Friday night, but you're never there."

"First of all, my pjs are not stupid," Donghyuck closes the folder, crossing his arms. "And second of all, it's a Friday night, man. Weekend. Most people go out on weekends."

"You're not most people," Renjun inquires, narrowing his eyes. "What aren't you telling me, Donghyuck."

Donghyuck scoffs. "That I'm an alien and I go eat brains every Friday." He points dumbly. "You're next."

"You're stupid," Renjun huffs. "Come on, I tell you all my nonsense, return the favor. It's not like I have anyone else to tell."

"It's nothing, really," Donghyuck settles into his chair, flipping through the folder again. "Sometimes I go to a colleague's place to talk design crap, weigh prices, annoying stuff. Actually supposed to meet with Wonwoo sometime this week."

"Well do it on not Friday," Renjun puffs. "You already work too much."

"Already have plans for this Friday, sorry," he shrugs, sympathy managing its way into his voice. What he isn't saying is that Fridays are very exclusively reserved as of three months ago. "But I have Monday—sorry, Tuesday night this week I'm good, if you wanted to catch a movie? Dinner?"

Renjun looks genuinely upset, and his voice crumbles into that soft sickly emotional tone he almost never lets anyone see. "You choose the one day I have things to do."

Donghyuck sighs. "Thursday?"

"I'll have to let you know," Renjun paws at his phone. "Chenle was trying to convince me to go with him and Mark to a little fair on Thursday."

Donghyuck closes the folder again, a heavier sigh on his tongue. "I'm sorry, Injun. Things will be a lot easier after this damn promotion battle is done with."

Renjun narrows his eyes, but nods his head in agreement, and shoves his phone back in his pocket. "Y'know what'll help in the meantime?"

"Whatever might it be, my love?" Donghyuck flutters his eyelashes stupidly, holding a hand up to prop up his chin. 

Renjun's eyes take on a glimmer of something only describable as himself, and Donghyuck regrets asking. 

"Tell me what's really happening on Fridays."

"I already told you, I go to a colleague's place," he tugs mindlessly at his sleeves. "Calm down."

"Every Friday?" Renjun bats his eyelashes right back. "Same one?"

"Yes," Donghyuck maintains stiff eye contact. 

"Mhm, okay. Which colleague?"

"Nice try, Cupid, you're not playing matchmaker this time," Donghyuck tisks. "Last time ended horribly and I blame you completely."

"I don't have to play any Cupid games this time," Renjun grins. "You already beat me to it." 

He gestures to Donghyuck's neck, and Donghyuck can presently feel all the life drain from his face. "And I swear to god, I know it's not a mosquito bite. Don't even try."

"Spider, actually," Donghyuck yanks his collar up, now terrified more people saw the bruises he was positive were lower down than that, and stands up with the folder in hand. Jaemin was terrible, but he wasn't stupid. "Thanks for never mentioning this again."

"Explains why you're always so damn tired on Saturdays," Renjun tilts his head, snickering. 

"Great day, Renjun," he exits the lobby with urgency, hoping he could simply evaporate on the spot. "Thursday. Get back to me." 

He can hear the snickering until the doors to the elevators close. 

************************************************

"Seonghwa." Folder of the day is slapped onto his desk, and Donghyuck waits beside it with a hand on his hip. "Where's your analytics report?"

"Not due?" Seonghwa cranes his head up, not bothering to fully turn to address Donghyuck, which made perfect sense for someone who doesn't actually value his job. "Since when are you concerned with my reports?"

"It is due, as of four hours ago," Donghyuck taps his foot impatiently. "And you're a member of my branch, so I have to be concerned. It's my job."

"It's almost done," Seonghwa says in a quiet tone, clearly muffling discontent. "Don't worry about it."

"Have it to me within the hour and corporate won't be notified, yeah?" A tap to the desk. "One hour." And then he walks away, annoyed, but satisfied with the returned discomfort of Friday morning. 

Returning to his desk on a Sunday was mostly for his own peace of mind, having nothing to do besides read the weekly analytic reports (hence Seonghwa) and sign his name to them. After that, he had basically the entire day to work on his project, which had become both his entire heart, and his problem child. 

The Sun and Moon fountains. 

His entire portfolio, and the reason he keeps sticking through every day. 

The idea was to be eco-friendly, the sun element being a big solar panel that powered the fountain itself, and kept a reserve for the moon light at night, and would double as a power reserve for whatever company bought the design. The revenue for which Donghyuck would donate most of to medical research, and keep the remaining funds for generalized quality of life improvements. A new stove, a better pipe for his sink, a better toilet handle, little things he could live without, but would love to fix up anyway. It was his proudest achievement, and hopefully soon would be something he would be proud to stick his name on. His legacy, in a way. 

Two more days, then he'll know what he's up against. 

And then, another sudden notification to draw his head from the clouds. 

[The solar panels are a great idea, I'm just a bit confused about where on the design you have them set. — J.Wonwoo]

Donghyuck smiles. 

[That's exactly what I wanted your input on. —Lee.Hyuck]

If this went well, he was beyond positive this promotion was his. It was already a great idea, a free power outlet for anyone with green fingers, but snagging Jeon Wonwoo, a relatively well-known solar physicist, and sticking his name to the project? Nobody else should even try. 

Hopefully life would be kind enough to just sit back for one more week, and let him get through this stupid quarter with enough money to pay his rent and keep food on the table. 

Just two more days. 

************************************************

"Why did we agree to Mondays again?" Donghyuck fights the urge to yawn, creaking open his front door at 7pm, allowing Jaemin to leisurely walk inside, entirely unprepared for what he was wearing. 

"Because you get the whole morning to sleep in, Tuesdays are the start of the new week and slam you with emails," says the man of the hour, plainly, shrugging off the fuzzy white jacket he was wearing to hang on the coat rack, before turning to meet Donghyuck's question with his eyes. "Wednesdays have been hit or miss lately, and Thursdays were off limits because you said so." He shrugs. "So. Y'know."

"Uhuh," Donghyuck feels like he will need to physically pull his head up to drag his eyes off all of the collarbone that was practically thrown in his face, stupid white tank tucked into light jeans doing nothing but blessing his sight, and he wants to smack himself for being so immediately chucked off his prior train of thought. "Ever heard of a rhetorical question?"

"Not a fan," Jaemin quirks his head, then strolls over to turn on the lamp next to Donghyuck's couch. "I think a question should always be asked with an answer expected. Don't you agree?"

"Evidently not," Donghyuck shakes his head a bit, entirely to himself, frankly still baffled by how slutty Jaemin turned a literal tank top, and crosses his arms. 

Jaemin grins, turning now to wander over and turn off the ceiling light. It bothers Donghyuck a little that Jaemin is making himself so at home in his house. "Add that to the list of things we disagree on. I know you have one."

"Sure," he scoffs, incredibly offended. 'Added to the list of; We Are Nothing Alike, Seriously'. "Because I keep a list of everything about you." 

"Wouldn't surprise me," Jaemin plops down on the couch, stretching his arm around the side, pulling his right leg up comfortably over the left. "I think I have you figured out pretty well by now."

"No, you do not," Donghyuck, with his arms still securely folded over his chest, walks over to his kitchen cupboards, itching for a snack. 

"Eating your feelings now are we?" Jaemin says, amusement in his stupid voice, as Donghyuck trudges back over to the couch. "Enjoy those SunChips."

Donghyuck pauses for just a moment, debating every life choice he had ever made, before he relents, and sits down, bag of SunChips in hand, and folds his legs up into a pretzel. "I don't want to hear it."

Jaemin grins. "Got a movie set?"

"World War Z," he huffs, stuffing his hand into the bag. "Was also considering Fight Club."

"Ohhhh my god," a snicker, and Donghyuck immediately glares. 

"What."

Jaemin looks far too proud of himself. "You have a Brad Pitt boner."

"I do not."

"You so do."

"Do not," another extremely bratty huff, as the bag of SunChips is rolled back closed, then chucked onto the coffee table. "I haven't even seen World War Z."

"Red herring," Jaemin preens. "He's the common factor."

"Brad Pitt was only hot as a vampire, and I will die on that hill," Donghyuck throws his legs out, squeezing as far into the opposite end of the couch—his couch, in case anybody forgot—as he possibly could. "I was interested in watching an apocalypse and enjoying my damn chips, thank you."

Jaemin grins. Because he is always fricking grinning. "Tantrum over?"

"So help me god I know where you sleep."

"Keep talking like that and we'll forget the movie," Jaemin quirks his head, chin resting against his hand, a few fingers draped over his smile, fiddling mindlessly with his lips. "Can't go two for two, that's too desperate."

"I can do," Donghyuck stares holes through Jaemin's eyes, hoping his vicious glare was able to do a fraction of what Jaemin's did to him, and he hangs his head forward with heat under his tongue. "Anything I want."

A hum. "You wore the shorts."

He's deflecting. Bastard. 

"Point proven," Donghyuck feels stagnant, like his confusion just tossed him through a tornado and he came out facing the same direction he'd just come from. "I wanted to, so I did."

"You know I like those shorts, Hyuck," Jaemin's tone has gained that delicious rasp he gets when he's fully, completely, and undeniably in control, and Donghyuck bites back venom. "Almost feels like that was the point."

"Maybe it was," Donghyuck lets his head roll over, the dim light of the lamp behind Jaemin's head casting a gilding halo around his silhouette, and he fully admits to himself in that moment that he cannot fathom how Jaemin was real. "You gonna do anything about it?"

"If I say no, how insulted would you feel?" He can hear the widening smile before he sees it. "Scale from one to ten."

"I'd take that as surrender, actually," Donghyuck retreats from his cushioned corner, practically crawling the half step it took to reach Jaemin, and for a rare moment, basks in the glory of being—even if it hardly counted—above him. "Am I understanding that right?"

Hands gingerly find his waist, and Jaemin preens. "You've just surrendered the first move, if that's what you mean." 

Donghyuck's stomach sinks, and a heavy breath trickles from his lips. "We're going to the bed this time."

"Feeling adventurous today are you?" Jaemin's hands begin wandering down, and the breath in Donghyuck's throat hitches. 

"No, far from it," he sighs, forehead a whisper away from Jaemin's, and it is taking everything in him to not collapse right there in his hands. "The difference is my bed isn't eighty miles away."

"Does it really matter?" The wandering hands dip down, then back, and then his fingers are delicately crawling up the length of Donghyuck's spine, shoving his shirt up in their journey. To make it worse, he lets his lips faintly drag against Donghyuck's own, as pathetically parted and waiting as they were, breathing in the air directly from his lungs. "I'm starting to think you like the unconventional places."

"Because you're impatient," a huff, as he fights against the consuming urge to give in. "You don't give me options."

"I think you just don't have it in you to follow through," Jaemin's hands retract back down, his own breathing growing heavy and bordering staggered, and they find the band of Donghyuck's shorts. "Considering you said we were moving, and you haven't budged."

"Semantics," the dizziness is returning. He can taste the mint in Jaemin's breath. "Don't play those games with me."

"Wasn't aware this was a game," Jaemin's hands clamp just below Donghyuck's hips, pulling him closer, and a groan bleeds from his lips for Jaemin to inhale through that damned smile. "Does that mean I'm winning?"

"You're insufferable," a huff, as Donghyuck gains a fistful of Jaemin's hair, tugging his head back with heavy desire in his eyes, his top lip light as a a feather against Jaemin's own. "Stalling doesn't win anything."

Jaemin tugs again, slowly, pressing Donghyuck's hips down with the motion, absorbing the shiver like a lightening rod proud of its work. "But I'm the impatient one." 

"You're awful," Donghyuck repeats the movement, all of his own volition, aiming lower with the intent of dragging Jaemin off his high horse. The feathery gasp he's granted proves his endeavors successful. 

"So you've said."

For a moment, Jaemin's jaw tips up just enough to connect their bottom lips, a thin gasp passing between the gap, and before another word can be said, Jaemin closes it. He tastes like frustration, and the curve of his lips sculpt themselves yet again in Donghyuck's brain. Then another pull on Donghyuck's hips, joined this time by the mirrored roll of his own, as the kiss descends to filth. Donghyuck sheds his shirt, breaking the connection only to return it with a breathy moan, and the cycle continues with escalation. 

Then, after managing to ply off Jaemin's shirt and discard his belt, Donghyuck tears himself away with a gasp, standing before his legs decided they didn't want to anymore. 

"There," he rasps, lips swollen and chest practically heaving. "I moved."

"You did," Jaemin pants, catching a shred of breath, before clumsily taking to his own feet and closing the gap yet again. "Baby steps."

At some point, many muttered curses and cut-off gasps later, they reached the bed. 

************************************************

"I think lining the top of it with the panels would be most effective," a cuffed wrist extends to point at the blueprint on the screen of Donghyuck's laptop. "And as far as I can tell, it won't compromise the design."

"Would it still be able to be translucent? Or do you think the fools gold design makes more sense?" 

"For the sun element I think keeping it solid would keep it more stable, and provide adequate support to the structure." Wonwoo points at the base of the fountain design. "The support beams of the bottom half could extend down as support beams too, like a morning star, and the idea would still be clear."

"If my analytics were done properly, it should be able to stand fine without them, but I'm not opposed to the design at all," Donghyuck scratches at his chin, staring intently at his blueprint, imagining the way the support beams would look against the rest of the fountain. "The only other thing I was unsure of was the lights inside the moon. Would one in the center or two in the ends be better?"

Wonwoo smiles, and merely shakes his head. "The whole thing will be illuminated, Donghyuck. I'm not just signing my name to this for the sake of revenue, I'm giving you as many resources as I can offer. That moon will be the brightest light in the whole of the plaza."

A truly wonderful smile spreads across Donghyuck's face, and his heart soars. "Really?"

"Absolutely," Wonwoo nods, charming smile alight on his own expression. "I think this design is brilliant, and the cause behind it is nothing short of inspiring. You don't find architects with hearts like yours anymore."

"Don't give me all the credit," Donghyuck shakes his head a bit, little laugh joining his words. "My brother had a lot to do with this."

"So I've heard," Wonwoo tidied up the papers he had brought with him, all of which had been laid out over Donghyuck's coffee table. "But you still made it a reality."

"Not without your help," Donghyuck closes his laptop, reaching over to help collect the papers. "I don't think I would've been able to get this far on my own."

"I'm honored to have been your first choice, Donghyuck." Wonwoo extends a hand, and Donghyuck shakes it firmly, proud smile brightening his eyes. "I look forward to working with you."

"And I with you," he nods, then springs up to open his door for him. "Thank you again."

With a small polite bow, Wonwoo takes his leave, papers in hand, and Donghyuck closes the door behind him. That went so much better than he had anticipated. All that was left was making up a few more final blueprint ideas, sending them in, then taking all the agreed upon elements for the actual final design. Success was just within his grasp, and he was on top of the world. 

What did he have to do?

Call Renjun, of course.

He recalls Renjun saying he had something to do on Tuesday, but if it didn't go to voicemail, he wasn't busy with whatever it was right now, and that was worth an attempt. 

It rang for a moment, before a muffled click sounds, and an equally muffled voice responds with a 'Hyuck,' their usual phone call greeting. 

"Injun, do you have a second? I have great news and I wanna ramble."

"Mhm," still muffled. "Go ahea'h."

"What—what's in your mouth?"

"Tooh bruh," a cough, then the sink running. "Sorry, tooth brush. What's up?"

"Did you just wake up?" The topic changed quickly. As it does. 

"More like didn't sleep, but that works too," he can hear in the tone of his voice Renjun almost definitely waving his hand along as he spoke. "I had time to kill anyway, because I already set my clothes for today last night and had nothing else to do. But you first."

"Does my Injun have a date?" A wicked grin accompanies Donghyuck's slightly raised brow. 

"If things go well, yes, he does." He can hear the confident snootiness over the slight static of the phone. "Chenle moved the fair date to today, and I felt man enough to ask Jisung if he wanted to join us. Yes, I know."

"Know what?" Donghyuck is grinning ear to ear. "I didn't say anything."

"I know you want to, so just don't." There's a faint smile in Renjun's voice. "It took me five months to ask him out and this hardly counts, but it does count, so just don't say anything."

"Lips are sealed," Donghyuck shifts his weight to his opposing foot. "Just don't leave Chenle and Mark alone, they'll get lost."

"Mark has a honing beacon to corndogs, I think I'll know where to find them," he hears a little giggle. "I'm actually really excited about this, Hyuck."

"I'm excited for you," there is an almost motherly pride oozing from Donghyuck's tone. "I hope you have a great time." 

"I plan to," he says through the slight static. "Now your turn. For real this time."

"Well, my meeting with Wonwoo just ended," he drawls the words, almost childlike emphasis in his voice. "And he's all in. Like, he's helping me finalize the design."

He can hear the ends of a squeal that the phone tried to cut off. "All in? Seriously?" He heard Renjun smack something. Probably the wall. "That's amazing!"

"I sorta can't believe it," Donghyuck shifts on his feet again. "It's been such a long time project, and now it's almost done. I'm practically floating right now."

"You are actually god," Renjun deadpans, then snickers. "For real though, I'm so proud of you."

"Thank you, Injun." His smile grows fond. "Now go get ready for that date."

"Ten bucks I manage to get a kiss," Renjun's tone grows very serious. "I will keep you posted."

Donghyuck laughs. "I'll keep bugging you."

"Twenty bucks then."

"Deal."

"If you don't, then you owe me the—"

A rhythmic beep interrupts his sentence, and he moves his phone from his ear to realize he is being called. He hesitates a moment, enthusiasm dying where it elevated in his throat, and he swallows. "Uh. I'm getting a call, sorry. But yeah, keep me posted."

He can hear the concern in Renjun's voice. "I will. You good?"

"Yeah," he takes a seat on his couch. "Go. Have fun."

Then he hangs up, and accepts the new call. 

"Hello, is this Lee Donghyuck speaking?"

"This is," his throat is dry. His free hand is now picking at the hems of his sleeves. 

"We have an urgent update about Doyoung."

Donghyuck waits, not bothering to ask. They would tell him anyway, that's why they called. 

"As of this morning, he went into cardiac arrest."

Oh. 

"They performed an emergency operation to insert a miniature pacemaker, with the hopes of it being enough to help his heart return to normal function, but as of now there has been no signs of improvement. If he keeps declining, we will need to do a full pacemaker implant, and put him on the list for a heart transplant."

A long moment of silence. 

"Why a transplant? Isn't that what the pacemaker is there to prevent?"

"The arteries in his heart are extremely weak from his blood pressure being so erratic and unstable, so they are at risk of rupturing if it spikes again. They believe that is what caused the incident this morning, and it was simply caught in time."

Donghyuck scoffs. Disbelief was an understatement. 

"Is he awake?"

"I'm sorry, he hasn't woken yet. There haven't been any signs he will, but that doesn't mean he won't."

"It just means you have no idea," he says crudely. "Update me if he gets worse. Preferably not six hours after the fact."

And then he hangs up. 

So much for his enthusiasm. What was left of it shrivels up into a suffocating mess in the pit of his stomach, and it snatches all the air in his lungs as it dies. 

Breathe, Donghyuck. 

Staggered and erratic. The air hurts his chest. 

Just breathe. 

Nothing feels full. His head is spinning and he can't take a full breath. He hardly processes the violent thrumming of his heart against his ribcage. 

Just. Breathe. 

He can't call Renjun. That would ruin his day, and that would only make Donghyuck feel worse. On top of that, Renjun's methods of comforting would end up making Donghyuck feel useless, because he goes out of his way to make him do nothing but relax and be doted on. Normally he loves Renjun for that, but he would implode on the spot if he wasn't able to move. 

So he couldn't call Renjun. And he didn't exactly have other friends. Wonwoo was a purely business relationship, and wouldn't fit the bill for a moment like this anyway. The fact he even came to mind said enough about the distraught state of his head. He was losing it. There was nobody he could call. 

Well, there was one person. It's just that calling simply wouldn't suffice. 

But his options were limited to one, and he wasn't willing to compromise. 

************************************************

"Donghyuck?" Jaemin's expression morphs into gentle confusion, slightly unkempt state of his hair disgustingly comforting to see, clad in black checkered sweatpants and a white tee. He looked so at ease. 

"Are you alone?" Donghyuck sounds like he'd been running for six hours, and his breathless state only made it worse. 

"Yeah," Jaemin blinks, the confusion steeping further over his face, as he motions for Donghyuck to come in. 

"Good," he practically rasps, stepping inside, closing the door behind him. His fingers itch with emptiness, and Jaemin's waist felt like a magnet, sticking perfectly the moment they made contact. 

"Hey, you okay?" Jaemin presses his hands against Donghyuck's chest, gently, not rejection, simply slowing him down. "Do you need to talk?"

Donghyuck meets his forehead. His voice has died. "Don't talk," he whispers, eyes drooping, nose resting softly against Jaemin's own. "Please, don't talk." 

"Donghyuck," Jaemin says softly, concern welling in the depths of his eyes, and Donghyuck wants to crumble. He pulls Jaemin closer. "Your heart is going crazy right now."

"Jaemin," he presses forward, and Jaemin pulls back, until he meets the wall. Donghyuck hardly knows what he's doing. "Joker card," he all but breathes. "Just be quiet."

"Hyuck," Jaemin's voice has fallen to a whisper, and his hands cradle Donghyuck's shoulders. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm not okay," he squeezes his eyes shut, hands circling even further around Jaemin's waist, finding the small of his back, holding him as close as he possibly could while continuing to lean into the wall. He steadily inhales, calmed by the scent of coffee on Jaemin's breath. Perfectly him. "Please."

"Hyuck," Jaemin rubs soothing circles against his shoulders. "If you need help, I can—"

"No, no," he drops his head, finding grounding in the crook of Jaemin's neck. He breathes him in like he never could again. "I need you."

He feels the give slowly melt out of Jaemin's form, arms softly slipping up to rest around Donghyuck's neck, letting his weight fall back into the wall. Into his hands. The world starts spinning when he bares his neck. 

Donghyuck takes another long breath, senses blurred with adoration and belonging, and it tasted of lavender and honey. If he didn't know any better, he would call the warmth that bloomed in his heart something much different than hatred. 

With each kiss, Jaemin grew pliable, so very different than anything Donghyuck had seen from him before. So serenely inviting, so willing, so submissive, so pure. There was simply no way he was of this world. 

And he didn't say a word—keeping to the unsaid promise far better than Donghyuck ever could, if these roles were reversed—unfolding at the seams without a single sound of protest. When Donghyuck regained the strength to raise his head, faintly able to see the soft red marks scattered along the side of Jaemin's neck, he needed nothing more than the sight of Jaemin's head hung limply backwards against the wall to know he was a doomed man. His left hand slid further over to reach across Jaemin's back, across his being, holding him as close as he could, freeing his other hand to tangle through the ashy strands of Jaemin's hair. There was a low, quiet gasp, and the sound nestled so deeply into Donghyuck's brain it repeated like an echo. He needed to hear it again. 

Then a pang of something—fear, hurt, longing—strikes his heart, and he fights it off with a small groan, determined to force it all back down with every ounce of strength he harbored. Jaemin's lips helped ease the tension from his system better than any drug ever could, and he chases it down like a desperate high. Every taste, every sound, every single thing Jaemin offered was taken on a silver platter, consumed like a holy grail with his name carved inside. Jaemin knew everything Donghyuck didn't know about himself, and he was letting him discover it all at his own pace, one breathy sigh at a time. 

The warmth became far too much to let fester, for fear it might have been a precursor to something much more, and Donghyuck fought fire with fire, pulling Jaemin's hips flush against his own, waiting for that accursed warmth to bleed into anywhere on Jaemin's person that he could get his hands. Jaemin quickly fell into a rhythm, matching every single push and pull, until Donghyuck has the mind to carry this—carry Jaemin, quite literally—to the bed. 

Time eroded away, clothes eventually shed to the floor in a mess of silent need, until their limbs bled together into one. And the second he found the way to make Jaemin completely unfold in his hands, he chased it, headfirst, burning the shape of his kiss anywhere he could reach it, absorbing every breath, whine, gasp, or moan to trickle from Jaemin's lips, reveling in the burn of his nails against his skin. 

And it was so, so much. Overwhelming every avenue of his brain with heat, and pleasure, and the perfection of everything Jaemin was, it was far too much to process in the short window before it all spilled over into recession. It was too much. 

But it still wasn't enough. 

They laid there, Donghyuck's head nestled softly into the curve of Jaemin's neck and shoulder, lips pressed sweetly over his skin, as Jaemin softly ran his hands along Donghyuck's back, dragging out demons every time he soothed his skin with his touch, and that same eroding emptiness crawled back from the depths of his throat. It swarmed his heart, stealing all the breath he so desperately used to memorize Jaemin's presence every way he could, and plagued his heartbeat with such violence he feared it might break free from his ribcage. All of this, and yet again, he couldn't take a full breath. 

"Shh," a clarity in the storm, whispered in his ear as he curled his arms around Donghyuck's hyperventilating form, thumb soothingly running along the back of his neck. "It's okay." He sounded so safe. "I've got you."

One heartbeat too harsh clattered against his chest, and his resolve shattered into a thousand pieces. He crumbled apart in Jaemin's arms, a pathetic heap of sobs and fear and desperation, and Jaemin held him together and nursed his breaking heart back to life. 

The lost child hidden deep within the barricades of Donghyuck's soul is discovered in this moment, for the first time since it had been locked away, and it was free to cry every tear he'd reserved into the space between Jaemin's arms, protected from ever being harmed again. 

Every turmoil Donghyuck had ever faced was being cradled under Jaemin's fingertips, and Donghyuck didn't have it in himself to lie anymore. To run and hide from the only thing he still knew. 

"My brother," he whispers, biting back the instability for just these few words. "He's dying, Jaemin. And I can't save him."

Jaemin holds him closer, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his head, and he softly shakes his head. "It's not your fault, Hyuck." A silent sigh. "Don't you dare blame yourself."

"He's all I have left," Donghyuck hiccups, and curls as far into Jaemin's embrace as he could manage. 

"You have me," Jaemin says, gently, genuinely. "You'll always have me."

"I'm scared of that," the air constricts around his lungs again. "I'm scared of everything, Jaemin."

"It's okay," he repeats. 

"It's not okay," another hopeless sob, and Donghyuck buries his face further into the crook of Jaemin's neck. "I don't hate you," a hiccup, "and I never have. And that terrifies me." He staggers. "It's not okay."

A very slow inhale. "Donghyuck."

"No," he curls his fingers into the sheets, chest nearly heaving. "Don't say you love me." 

More hysterical blabbering. His head hurt. 

"Because I can't tell you I don't love you too, and I can't—" 

A crack, and his voice falls apart. He exhales with the broken remnants of his heart. 

"I can't lose you."

"Donghyuck," Jaemin's voice is so soft, an angelic whisper tuned to the frequency of Donghyuck's heartbeat, and the ache in his soul relents. "It's okay to be afraid."

"I don't want to be afraid of you," he breathes straight into his skin. 

"You know me, Donghyuck." A hand is nestled through his hair. "There isn't anything to be afraid of."

"I'm afraid of everything I don't know," his heartbeat stops hurting. "I've never known love."

"Love isn't something you know," another gentle kiss pressed to his head. "Love knows you." 

He pauses, with a heavy breath. 

"I know you."

Donghyuck closed his eyes, and breathed. His lungs found air, and it lost its sting. He was calm. Jaemin successfully tamed the beast in his heart. 

"Don't let go," he asks, solemnly, after a long moment of silence. "I might die if you do."

A soft smile graces Jaemin's voice. "I don't plan on it."

************************************************

Love was a difficult concept. 

To some, it was merely a feeling, able to come and go as simply as a favorite color. To others, it was like a law, known once, obeyed forever. 

To Donghyuck, love was a choice. A continuous choice, made in every decision he made. To wake up, to eat, to sleep, all self love. Enough of it to stay alive. 

Or to listen to Renjun ramble about his date, and to grin dumbly when he explains how the stars aligned, and how Donghyuck now owes him twenty dollars. All friendly love. 

Or, how he continues to bicker about anything and everything when Jaemin was present, meaning next to none of it, nurturing a blooming and very big sense of warmth and belonging in the depths of his heart, tied exclusively to Jaemin's name. That kind of love doesn't have a name yet, but Donghyuck is figuring it out. It just takes some time. 

But even then, there was a kind of love he always knew, that never failed him even on his darkest days. The kind that was his backbone in every big decision he ever made, that sent him off for the first time without training wheels and made sure his helmet was secure, that scared away all the monsters under his bed and tucked him safely in afterwards. The same love is tucked into Doyoung’s hand now, as Donghyuck lays peacefully beside his bed, hand clasped protectively over his. Brotherly love. Arguably the strongest of them all. 

So strong, in fact, that it had the power to raise a sleeping heart from its chambers, and will it back to life. 

"Hey, sleepyhead," a mediocre nudge to the head. Donghyuck grumbles. 

"I'm talking to you, Hyuckie." Another tiny poke. 

Donghyuck stirs, and lifts his head now, drowsiness slowly slipping from his eyes, just in time for them to meet his. 

And no universe could ever shine brighter than Donghyuck's did in that moment, as he frantically shouted for the nurses to come quickly, to witness the miracle he had just lived through. 

His brother woke up.

Doyoung was home.