Work Text:
The guy is short, a few inches shorter than Mark, and he has angel wings on. He’s an angel. Mark smiles in his vodka haze, leaning onto the table, his beer in hand.
“Cute costumes,” The guy says, looking between Mark and Yangyang. Mark begged to just dress as baseball players this year. Letting Yangyang put him in whatever anime costume he wanted had resulted in Mark having an 0-3 Halloween hookup batting average.
The angel leans in closer, looking them both in the face. Mark leans in, too, like a magnet being pulled or a drunk guy unable to stay up straight. The angel asks, “Is it a couple’s costume?”
Yangyang laughs. “No, unfortunately we’re both straight.”
The guy groans. “Really? Completely?”
“Sorry, I know. My one flaw.”
The angel puts a hand on Yangyang’s shoulder, seriously. “Well, you could gain back some points if you made out with me right now.”
Yangyang laughs, incisors flashing under the lights.
The angel turns towards Mark, who is looking at his conspiring smile. “Both of you,” His mouth says, lips like a heart.
Mark feels himself go a little cold, despite the heat of the bodies around him and the drinks in his stomach. A chill runs down his spine.
Yangyang is already saying, “Fine!” before Mark can protest.
The angel’s smile turns mischievous, and he runs his hand from Yangyang’s shoulder to behind his neck.
“Let’s see if you’re really as straight as you say.”
And then the angel is pressing his lips to Yangyang, but Yangyang can’t stop smiling to kiss back. He really tries, but his cackle breaks through the air, and the angel leans back with a disappointed groan.
“I’m sorry,” Yangyang manages. “I told you, I don’t like guys.”
The angel pats his cheek. “It’s okay, buddy. I think one of my girlfriends would love you.”
Mark thinks for a moment maybe he’s going to get out of this. The angel’s attention has been turned mostly towards Yangyang this entire time. Maybe he was just trying to get with him, and Mark is collateral.
But then the angel turns to Mark, eyes flicking to his mouth and back up again. “Your turn.”
Mark thinks he might be sick, his stomach is turning so much.
The angel doesn’t reach out to touch him like he did with Yangyang. He just stands in front of him, head tilting slightly. “Do you want to kiss me?” He asks over the music, some remix of a song about Paris. His smile is sweet again, saccharine.
Mark thinks about shaking his head, about saying no. But he’s so drunk, and all he wants to do is kiss this boy. It’s okay. Yangyang kissed him, too. It doesn’t mean anything.
So Mark nods.
The angel leans forward, being much slower than he was with Yangyang. He kissed Yangyang open mouthed, tongue ready, but he and Mark both have their lips pressed shut as they touch for the first time.
Oh, Mark thinks, Soft.
Then, Mark isn’t thinking anymore as he begins to fall into the kiss. He sets his beer down on the table behind him, and feels his hands travel to the angel’s small waist, his skin exposed from the cut off of his crop top, surprisingly cold.
The angel’s hands are suddenly in his hair, fingers brushing through what his mom has been urging him to get cut. He opens his mouth against Mark’s, and suddenly Mark’s tongue is against him. He tastes like Pink Whitney and cherry chapstick and change.
Mark’s head is spinning, his whole life spinning in front of him. Years of resistance and denial and confusion given over in seconds to a boy that looks like he came from God himself.
The angel breaks apart first, ending what is the best kiss of Mark’s life.
Mark watches his eyes blink open, glitter glued eyelashes fluttering.
“Oh,” The angel says, mouth forming a perfect circle. “You…”
Maybe it’s the start of a joke he can’t figure out how to finish, but Mark hears, You. It’s you.
“Yo!” Yangyang interrupts. “That almost seemed real!”
Mark drops his hands from the guy’s waist, grabbing his beer and chugging the rest of it down, suddenly feeling far too sober. Fuck.
The angel laughs, holding his hands in balled fists at his sides like he’s trying to hold back from just grabbing Mark again, and taking him some place else. Mark wishes he wouldn’t resist so hard. That he would take all the steps for him, show him how to escape his poorly acted play. Show him how to be real again.
“Yeah,” The angel agrees. “It did.”
Mark deludes himself for five minutes that he’s not hungover, but then he tries to get up to go to the bathroom, and his skull pounds. He makes it to the toilet and back without throwing up, but then his head is back against his pillow.
can you bring me a poptart
I’m at the library studying.
Yangyang’s ability to bounce back the next day will always make Mark jealous. He has to admit, he’s a little glad, though. Getting a poptart would be worth facing Yangyang, but it would still be humiliating. He doesn’t know how he’ll answer when Yangyang brings up that guy from last night. Maybe he’ll just evaporate on the spot or something.
Like… who the fuck was that? Mark looks up at the ceiling, trying to figure out if that was even real. But it had to be. He’d kissed him, given Yangyang the Instagram of his friend, and then practically flew away.
Mark finds his phone tucked under his pillow, just hanging on at 7%. He plugs it in, and opens Instagram.
Yangyang follows 1004 people. Luckily, Mark follows 200 of them, so he can rule out all of them. Next, he can rule out all celebrities, men, and brands. He gets down to a list of 100 girls (Yangyang is desperate if nothing else). From those 100, he first checks any that have public accounts, little mutual friends, and go to their university. He first looks to see if he recognizes the boy in any of their photos, and then scrolls through their followers list.
He goes at this for an hour, until his stomach is begging for food, nausea creeping up on him. He gets to the kitchen, eyes still glued to his phone.
The strawberry poptart boosts his morale as he continues to dig through Yangyang’s followers. And then finally, finally, just when his eyes are glazing over so he almost misses it, he sees @yellow_rj.
The profile picture is in black and white, his neck turned up to the sky.
RENJUN.
BIOENGINEERING. BARB. BIBLICAL.
His account is unfortunately private.
Mark hesitates over the follow button. He doesn’t know why he’s here. He doesn’t know where the last two hours have gone. He doesn’t know why he would search so hard just to get too scared.
He doesn’t know what he’s asking for when he presses follow.
He chucks his phone across the room, falling from the couch onto the floor.
No no no no, why did I just do that?
Who stalks someone they kissed at a bar once? Especially when that person is the same gender as you, and you’ve declared yourself straight? Your entire life, you’ve worked to convince your family and your friends and your girlfriends that you’re straight.
But no one will know about this. Except Renjun.
Renjun.
What a perfect name. It’s a name he’s never heard, for someone that’s like no one else he’s ever met.
He hears a buzz from his phone, and he’s immediately across the room.
@yellow_rj has requested to follow you.
Before hitting accept, Mark looks through Renjun’s photos. He’s even more angel-like when properly lit.
It’s going to take Mark a very long time to get through his Instagram because he stops at every photo to zoom into Renjun’s face. It’s just a perfect face. Mark’s eyes follow the curve of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the shape of his lips which Mark has somehow managed to kiss.
He lands on a picture of Renjun sitting criss cross on someone’s couch, looking up at the camera with the look he had when he asked if Yangyang and Mark were wearing a couple’s costume, and after staring at it for five minutes straight, Mark has to admit to himself that he’s not here to simply appreciate some guy he kissed one time, but he wants to look at this guy for a long time, maybe forever.
Mark turns his face into the floor, and screams into the carpet.
This can only be bad. This is everything he’s told himself his whole life is bad and yet…
He was dressed as an angel. His Instagram bio says ‘biblical’, definitely as a joke, but it means something to Mark. These signs.
He’s prayed to God for a sign, and maybe this is it. Maybe this is God saying, ‘It’s okay, Mark.’
He escapes Renjun’s feed, only to see he’s posted new photos from last night.
The first photo is of him, looking up at the camera through his glittery eye makeup. The next photos are with friends, getting progressively blurrier as the night continues.
Mark reads the caption.
did you fall for me?
Mark’s breath catches in his throat. Is it some sort of coincidence? Or is it for him?
He likes the post, without thinking, and immediately curses himself. But it’s too late. Renjun is probably still on Instagram, getting the notification that the first person to like his post is @onyourm__ark.
Mark accepts Renjun’s follow request, letting him into his world of photos forcefully taken by Jaemin, his own badly taken pictures of the sky, and shitty notes app poetry.
He thinks of deleting everything, overwhelmed by the thought of someone like Renjun getting to perceive all of him this way.
Suddenly, Mark starts to get notifications.
@yellow_rj liked your photo.
@yellow_rj liked your photo.
@yellow_rj liked your photo.
@yellow_rj liked your photo.
@yellow_rj liked your photo.
@yellow_rj liked your photo.
He must scroll all the way through Mark’s feed, liking his photos.
New message: @yellow_rj.
Mark looks up at the ceiling. You can do this. You can do this. Be cool.
His heart pounds as he clicks into his DMs.
omggg im sorry my roommate stole my phone and liked all your photos 🙈
Mark twiddles his thumbs over the keyboard. It’s his first time messaging a guy like this, a guy he’s kissed and stalked.
Oh, okay. Mark types, and immediately deletes. That’s lame. Renjun won’t even respond to that.
Well, what would he say to a girl?
Really? I thought it was you. Disappointing. Mark reads the message over and over, and then decides it’s way too much.
Oh haha, I thought maybe you were one of those people that just likes everyone’s photos when they follow.
Okay. Sure.
are some people really like that???
Yeah, I do that sometimes haha
you didn’t like my photos :(
Oh I didn’t get a chance to look at them.
Mark goes to Renjun’s profile, likes photo after photo.
okay okay you can stop now!!! haha
how’d you even find me?
Yangyang was showing me your friend, and I thought of looking for you in her followers.
Smooth, Mark.
oh what does yangyang think of her?
Mark doesn’t want to lie too much.
Uhhhh we didn’t really talk about that haha
you should ask!
I will later
but what do you think about me?
SORRY MY ROOMMATE AGAIN
I TRUST HIM WITH MY PHONE FOR ONE SECOND
Lol it’s okay
Ummmm
I think you’re very cool 👍🏻
gee thanks.
Sorry.
Could you, like, not let your roommate read all this… ?
i have locked myself in the bathroom for you
Thank you.
So like…
Obviously yangyang said I was straight
yeah
Because that’s what I tell people haha
okay
But like…
Obviously
You know.
I don’t really know how to say it
I’ve never told anyone.
okay. that’s okay, mark.
But I’m not.
straight?
Yeah.
I don’t know what I am.
I just know I really really really like kissing you.
i like it too ☺️
Yeah?
honestly, i was so nervous to do that last night, it was just a dare from my roommate because i said you were cute 🙈
Mark drops his phone, fireworks exploding in his chest. He picks it back up.
Really????
yeah i’m confident when im drunk but not THAT confident🫣
I believed you completely. I didn’t think you were nervous at all.
oh thanks hehe i can’t say the same for you
Oh oof
but it was really cute
Oh 🥰
Mark has never used that emoji in his life. But Renjun clearly likes emojis, and Mark wants to speak his language.
soooo…
So.
ummmm
Um.
i don’t want to ask you to do anything you’re not ready for…
but…
maybe we could see each other
or we can just be friends
whatever you’re comfortable with
i’ll meet you where you are
because it can be scary at first
i know.
but you’re so cute, i don’t want to miss my chance
ohmygod i just sent so much
i’ll be quiet so you can respond.
or take your time.
sorry 🙈
Mark covers his face with his hand. So cute. He doesn’t want to miss his chance, either. He can practically hear Yangyang in his head, ‘Don’t fumble the bag, bro.’
Renjun is way too cute to just let slip through his fingers. Mark thinks of his confidence the night before, and wonders how it could be fake. How could someone be so many opposing forces at once?
He wants to know everything about Renjun. He wants to understand everything about him, and himself. He thinks Renjun is the answer to all his questions and all his prayers and all his dreams.
Slow down. Be cool. Don’t fumble the bag.
He takes a deep breath. Types.
I’d love to see you.
Tonight?
Dinner?
Maybe that’s too much, too soon.
okay ☺️
Mark smiles. Or maybe not.
Okay!
Haha
I’m excited to see you again. Sober 😅
i hope i live up to what drunk you remembers
Of course you will. You already do.
oh 🫢
you were so quiet last night, im kind of surprised by how bold you are now.
You make me feel kind of brave.
okayyy 🥲
stop texting me for now, save some of it for dinner
7? Lin’s?
see you then mark
mark is a very perfect name for you by the way
perfect name for a perfect boy
Hey!
Save some of it for dinner!
sorryyy
no more texting
back to being mysterious
and cool 😎
you will forget i am a loser you will think i am super hot and normal you know Nothing about me
Ahhh Renjun
Has anyone ever told you you’re like super cute?
🫠🫠🫠
of course but i like you saying it
DINNER MARK
we’re so bad at waiting for each other
Because I’ve been waiting for you my entire life
Sorry.
Um.
Sorry.
i am going to turn my phone off now and think of what to wear for six hours.
Don’t worry about impressing me. You already have.
mark pleeeease stop
Okay I’ll stop for now.
I just really like talking to you
mark 👹
im gonna block you
🤐🔑
see you soon 🫣
Shhh
shhhhh
Shhh
shhhhehehehe
Mark types. I think I like you so much. But he deletes it. Dinner. Save it for dinner. When he’ll see Renjun again, so soon.
Because he can’t wait. He’s never felt more urgency about anything in his life. He knows he was meant to meet Renjun last night, he’s sure of it now. Something brought them together. Maybe God. Maybe an angel. Maybe fate.
Mark won't ignore that. He won’t run from his feelings. He will figure out what to tell Yangyang, and Jaemin, and Jeno, and his parents. He’ll figure it out.
But once they meet Renjun, won’t they understand?
Mark is so worried about being late, he gets to the restaurant at 6:30. He gets a table for two, but decides to wait to tell Renjun where he’s sitting until 6:55, to give the illusion of being a normal person. He orders a milk tea so they don’t kick him out for loitering.
He plays Cut the Rope on his phone, trying to stay calm. At 6:45, he hears the bell of the door ring, and he looks up to see Renjun walk through. He’s wearing a white sweater and a white beanie and a white mask, and he still looks like an angel.
He talks to the hostess, and Mark wishes he could hear his voice over the other guests. He gets seated at his own table across the room.
Renjun got here fifteen minutes early.
Mark looks around for his waiter. He’s not sure what to do. Call out Renjun’s name? Wait for 7 PM and pretend to arrive? Cross the room to him like a normal person?
His palms get sweaty at the thought of talking to Renjun. What if he doesn’t live up to Renjun’s expectations? What if his horrible habits of stuttering and rambling take over, and Renjun can’t understand him? What if Renjun expects him to be better than he is?
Renjun is perfect, even the back of his neck is like art to Mark.
Maybe Renjun can feel him staring because he turns around, and finds Mark’s eyes with his.
They widen.
“Mark?” He sees Renjun’s mouth ask.
Mark points to himself, and then to Renjun’s table. Want me to come there or…?
But Renjun stands, crossing the restaurant to him with a smile.
He slides into the chair across from Mark. “You couldn’t wait either?”
“No,” Mark admits. “I couldn’t wait.”
Renjun looks at Mark’s almost empty tea and smiles. There’s a small dimple in his cheek.
They’re silent for a second, Renjun looking down at the table, and Mark being unable to look at anything except him.
Renjun laughs, grabbing a menu, and opening it. His hands, Mark remembers them in his hair, are slim and perfect. There’s a birthmark on the back of one of them and Mark resists the urge to grab Renjun’s hands in his own by sitting on them.
“Do you already know what you want?” Renjun asks.
Yes. You.
Mark clears his throat. “Yeah, I come here often.”
“We both wear glasses,” Renjun suddenly comments, pointing at Mark’s.
“Uh huh,” Mark agrees, looking at Renjun’s eyes through his clear frames.
“I was too hungover to put in contacts,” Renjun says, laughing shyly.
“Me too,” Mark responds, voice barely above a whisper.
Renjun looks up at him. “Are you okay?”
“You’re real,” Mark squeaks.
“Yeah?” Renjun asks.
“Sorry,” Mark apologizes. “It’s just-You’re really-I’m-”
“Mark,” Renjun says, softly. “It’s okay. We’re just friends getting dinner.”
Mark shakes his head. “Respectfully, I do not want to be friends.”
“Oh.”
“I mean, I would like to be more than friends.” Mark wants to face plummet into the table. Way to be cool.
“We’re not even five minutes in. What if you realize you hate me?”
“No, I mean.” Mark swallows, breaths. “I want this to be a date.”
Renjun smiles, covers his mouth with his hand.
“And I’m pretty sure there’s no possible way I could hate you.”
Renjun shakes his head, in what seems to be disbelief. “You’re really the best person I’ve kissed at a bar, ever.”
“Do you kiss a lot of people at bars?”
The waiter comes over, interrupting. Mark orders, and Renjun copies what he gets.
“Sorry, I didn’t know what to order.”
“It’s okay, my order is the best.”
“Well, we’ll see.”
“So, do you kiss strangers often?” It’s not like Mark cares. He’s just curious.
“No!” Renjun stresses. “I was just really out of it last night, and when I told Donghyuck, my roommate slash friend slash worst enemy, that I thought you were cute, he dared me to do that.”
“I’m glad he did.”
“Me too.”
They play a round of what is basically twenty questions. Where are you from? What do you study? What student orgs are you in? Who are you? Where have you been my last four years of college? The last 22 years of my life?
The waiter brings their food, and Mark watches Renjun eat. He takes bites with his front teeth, stuffing food in his checks as he chews. He’s obsessed with the way Renjun eats. There needs to be a study done on how quickly he’s fallen for Renjun.
“This is good,” Renjun says, wiping his mouth.
“Mhm.”
“What?”
Mark tilts his head. “Nah, nothing.”
Renjun leans in. “What, Mark?”
“It’s nothing. I just… nothing.”
Renjun laughs. “Okay.”
There’s so much Mark wants to tell Renjun. So much he wants to explain to him about sleepless nights and forcing people away and changing how he walks and talks. And how all of his fear disappeared the moment he saw Renjun in angel wings and white. How he just feels, knows that he is meant to be here. They are meant to be here together.
But he doesn’t want to sound completely insane. He has time, he thinks. He’ll make sure they have time.
After they eat and pay the bill, they linger at the table for a long time, unable to end a conversation. Finally, the restaurant is closing for the night, and they walk out to the street together, Mark never looking away from Renjun as he opens the door for him.
They stand outside in the cold, Mark looking down at Renjun, Renjun looking up at Mark.
“So,” Renjun says, his breath fog in the air.
Mark grabs his arm. “No. Don’t try to say goodbye.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Me neither.”
Renjun looks behind him. “I don’t live far.”
“Okay.”
Mark runs his hand from Renjun’s elbow down to his hand. He intertwines their fingers. “Is this okay?”
“Is it okay with you?”
“Uh huh.”
Renjun squeezes. “Then, yes.”
He lets Renjun lead him down the streets they’ve both walked hundreds of times, but somehow never together. Or maybe Mark has seen Renjun before, passed him walking to class, sat in the library at the same time as him, maybe even taken required classes together. And they missed each other every time.
Mark feels like the last four years have been wasted, but then he wonders what freshman year him would have done if Renjun came up to him at a frat with that same confidence. Mark probably would have ran away, scared for his life. That’s back when he was just out of his small Bible-thumping town. College helped change his mind, slowly. And maybe his mind was finally ready to be cleaned completely when he found Renjun.
Renjun turns towards an apartment complex. “This is home.”
“My friend Jaemin lives here,” Mark remembers.
Renjun turns his head. “Jaemin Na? Really?”
“Yeah.”
Renjun leads Mark through the doors and to the elevator. He pushes 7. “My friends and I have this joke that he’s a figment of our imagination. Because he’s, like, way too hot but I only ever see him at like 4 am.”
Mark nods. “He’s a bit strange.”
“So you’ve been here?” Renjun asks.
Mark nods. Another missed connection.
They fall silent for a second, alone in a small box. Mark is looking down at Renjun, but as soon as he turns to him, Mark looks away. They’re literally holding hands. They’ve literally made out before. But Mark doesn’t want Renjun to know he can’t stop staring at him.
The doors of the elevator open, and Mark can breathe again. But soon enough, he’s back in a room alone with Renjun, his bedroom, with no air.
It’s a nice room, because of course it is. Renjun doesn’t flip on the big overhead light, instead he pushes a button to string lights that glow gold. The space can be described as focused. Cream bedding and white walls covered in perfectly straight rows of Polaroids. Mark leans into one of Renjun in the middle of a group of friends. It’s good to know he is adored by others as much as Mark adores him. It makes Mark feel less desperate, less like he needs to drag Renjun around the streets and yell, “Look at this guy! Look how beautiful this guy is!”
“Those are my friends,” Renjun says, coming to stand beside Mark. He points to a Polaroid of a guy with long brown hair blowing a kiss and winking at the camera. “This is my friend Donghyuck. Luckily, he’s not here right now, or he would be in here asking you very invasive questions. That’s Jisung and Chenle, they’re, like, my little brothers and favorite people in the world. All four of us do choir together.”
Renjun mentioned choir at dinner. Mark would love to hear him sing, but Renjun sounded embarrassed about their performances. ‘It’s like lamer Glee.’
“They look really nice,” Mark says.
Renjun nods. “They are. When they aren’t trying to ruin my life.”
Renjun sits down on his bed, so Mark joins him, wiping his palms on his knees. He feels Renjun lay a hand on his own, getting him to relax.
“Sorry,” Mark apologizes, voice shaky. “I’m nervous.”
Renjun turns towards him. “Why?”
“Because I really like you.”
It’s Renjun’s turn to get timid. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.”
“You haven’t even known me 24 hours. How do you know I don’t kill people or hate cats or something?”
Mark smiles. “I guess I’d just have to overlook those things for you.”
“You would overlook someone hating cats? I don’t know Mark, that kind of changes how I feel about you.”
Mark squeezes Renjun’s hand. “You’re really so cute.”
Renjun falls over, face planting into his pillow. He mumbles into it, “Thank you.”
“It’s probably bad I like you this much already, but I do.”
Renjun turns over on his pillow. “I like you a little bit, too.” He pulls Mark’s arm.
Mark swallows. He turns to face Renjun. He puts his hands down on either side of his waist. He’s initiated making out with plenty of people (including Renjun), but he’s never been so nervous.
“Would you like to kiss me now?” Renjun asks. “Or we can wait.”
“I want to kiss you, like, so bad, man.”
Renjun blushes, his ears red. “Go for it, man.”
Mark moves a hand to Renjun’s hair, and then he’s leaning down over him. The kiss last night was unexpected, almost unreal. Now, Mark is so aware of everything, everything in him sharp and focused.
It’s different kissing sober, of course. They both have more control. Renjun doesn’t taste like Pink Whitney anymore, but his chapstick is still there.
Renjun’s hands grab Mark’s shirt in fists. He breaks apart. “How far do you want to go?”
“I don’t know,” Mark replies, too dazed to know anything. “I was thinking, like, marriage.”
Renjun reaches up to tuck some of Mark’s hair behind his ear. “That’s not what I meant at all, but okay.”
Mark blushes, and buries his face in Renjun’s shoulder. “Shit, sorry.”
“I’m a little young to get married tonight,” Renjun jokes along. “But I guess I’ll get older, won’t I?”
Mark rolls over to lay next to Renjun. “I don’t know. You could be immortal for all I know.”
“That’s true.”
Mark turns his head, putting his forehead against Renjun’s. Renjun kisses his cheek softly, threading his fingers through Mark’s hair. “I promise I’m just a normal boy.”
“Well, that’s not true.”
“Hm?”
Mark kisses the corner of Renjun’s mouth. “You’re an angel.”
Renjun groans, covers his face with a hand. “Mark.”
“Really. You are heavenly, Renjun.”
Renjun’s hand wraps around the cross at Mark’s neck. “I once read this book, Normal People. There’s this line, it’s like, ‘I’m not a religious person, but I think God made you for me.’ I know that’s quite a big thing to say twenty hours into knowing each other. But I felt like saying it.”
Mark holds onto Renjun’s hand. “So, when you’re older… you’d be down to get married?”
Renjun’s dimple appears. “Sure, Mark. I’d be down.”