Chenle Angst - Tumblr Posts

Pink + White

Pairing: Non-Idol!Zhong Chenle x Maid Cafe Waitress!Female Reader

Preview: “Chenle, we shouldn’t.” He backed you into the kitchen island, watching your every move. “Why not?” He looked into your frantic eyes that were searching for a way out with a false sense of confusion. Chenle placed his hands on the counter at your sides, slightly behind you, caging you in.

“T-the deal?” You assumed it was obvious but as you said it, you knew it didn’t make sense and you were screwed. “I think we both know that this-” he pointed between the two of you, “-isn’t a part of the deal.” He was right. You hated him but that didn’t mean you didn’t want him.

Word Count: 15.1k

Genre: (not actual) Enemies to Lovers, smut, angst, fluff, non-Idol AU,

Warnings: Chenle is really mean, reader is quite sensitive, their sexual relations aren't a part of the deal they made, both parties' consent and enjoy what goes on, blackmailing, cleaning wounds, chemical burns and bruises are mentioned, reader works at a maid cafe (men are weird and gross.), they aren't actually enemies ig they're just stupid, mature language/cursing, not proofread at all

Smut Warnings: slight dub-con (easy to miss), maid kink obvi, degrading names (slut, bitch, messy, whore etc.), kitchen sex, use of pussy pump, oral sex (both receiving and giving), sex is interrupted at one point, squirting, slapping, praise, heavy degradation, dumbification, dom/sub themes, chenle is mean, photo taken during sex, possessiveness, ik there is more so pls let me know lol

a/n- so this sprouted from several things lol i already had the idea for one of the scenes and then the youtuber emirichu posted her video abt the maid cafe and i just wanted to go ahead and write this. i hope you all enjoy it <3 ALSO sorry it took so long to write, it's over 11k words more than i thought it was gonna be lol

Stepping into the ‘Employee’s Only’ bathroom, you made sure your appearance was perfect before clocking in for your shift. Your thigh-high socks were all the way up, only two inches below the hem of your skirt. Your frills were wrinkle free, allowing them to show their true shape. The bow that sat at the small of your back wasn’t too tight nor too loose, it was fluffed, just like it was required to be. You didn’t hate the uniform, you felt really cute in it, but it was the customers that made it dreadful. The old men that would come in just to get called “Master” always, without fail, make some comment about taking the dress off of you.

Other than them, your job was quite enjoyable, it was a pretty and chill environment, you made close friends with some of your coworkers, and the shoes that came with the uniform made everything slightly less miserable for you. Shiny, black Mary Jane heels.

Deeming your hair, makeup, and outfit good enough to start your day, you walked out of the bathroom and headed for the machine in the back of the café.

“Hey girly” Minjeong bumped your hip as she passed you. She was the first friend you had met while working at the café. And even now, she was your closest friend. Your friendship didn’t stay inside the café but the two of you spent time together constantly.

“Hi Minjeong, have we been busy so far?” She didn’t give you a verbal response, only nodding her head with wide crazed eyes. You laughed at her expression and finished punching in your numbers. The ding sounded and that signaled that your shift had begun.  

“Alrighty, one of your regulars is here so you better go wait on him.” Minjeong pointed to the man in the corner of the restaurant. Having immediately recognized him, you grumbled a bit. Sure the tips were great, but you’d have to work for him. He wasn’t just gonna give you money for looking pretty, he’d make you run back and forth with different requests for the kitchen.

“Wish me luck.” Fixing you once slouched posture, you stood up straight and walked out of the back and towards the main floor. Minjeong winked at you, bit her lip, and wolf whistled as you walked away.

You were still lightly laughing as you approached the customer who had been waiting for you. “Well, aren’t you happy to see me?” Your real laughter stopped immediately and was replaced with your “customer service” laugh, it was fake and high pitched. “Oh I’m always excited to see you, Master.” You bowed your head, looking down at your shoes while you waited for him to say something.

“I think I’ll have my usual for lunch, but I’m in the mood for something sweet.” His gaze was almost predatory. The glint of lust in his eyes that were raking your body was unwanted. “How about you and that other pretty little maid over there tell me what you would recommend.” He licked his bottom lip as he pointed at Minjeong with his head.

“Right away Master.” Bowing to him and turning on your heel, you walked over to Minjeong who was headed towards the kitchen.

You walking quicker just a tad to put you side by side to Minjeong, all while still looking graceful for the customers who could still see you. “Sup pretty little maid, the guy over there wants us to recommend something for desert.” You smirked and raised both eyebrows in a provocative way. “Ugh, is that what he called me or something?” Nodding your head and linking your arm to hers, you steered the both of you back to the man’s table.

While you were still out of the man’s earshot, you heard Minjeong let out a, “Fucking old ass perv.” You elbowed her slyly since you were in the main dining area but still let out a snort, which of course caused her to laugh as well.

“Now I have two pretty girls to assist me. Okay ladies, what would you recommend for something sweet today. Of course, I’m open to trying anything.” Ignoring his obvious advances, you pointed at the menu the dessert section and gave more in-depth descriptions of all of them.

 “Oh my fucking god.” The voice came from behind you and was in shock. Minjeong looked at you with confusion. “Do you know him?” She raised one of her eyebrows at the man behind you. “I’m sorry Mister, it appears another guest is in need of immediate service. I’ll be right with you Master.” Bowing to the man seated in front of you, he rolled his eyes but allowed you to leave.

Minjeong who was still next to you wanted to know if any drama would come out of this conversation. Turning around to face the shocked man, you were still looking at Minjeong when you started speaking to him. “Is there anything I can assist you with Sir?” As soon as you said ‘Sir’, your eyes flickered to who you were actually speaking to. Zhong Chenle, the boy you had a damn nearly decade long feud with.

Before you could show any signs of embarrassment, he started talking. In a ridiculing way, he said your full name slowly. “I never would’ve thought I’d see you working in a place like this. The fuck were you thinking?” He just kept laughing, in your place of employment. Not only was he embarrassing you, but you actually liked your job for the most part and it hurt that he was making fun of it.  

Your boss overheard the conversation and the commotion that Chenle was causing. A few well-known patrons were getting annoyed with being disturbed. You heard your name being called from behind you. “Get this boy out of here and then get back to work!” Glaring at Chenle, you took him by his elbow and pulled him out the back door.

“Why the hell are you here?” You were seething at this point. But even if you were mad, the embarrassment you felt when Chenle’s eyes raked up and down your body overtook every other emotion. He smirked when you crossed your arms and put your legs together, cowering under his gaze.

“Why am I here? Oh, I don’t know, to look at all the pretty maids. It seems like I found my favorite already.” He looked down right sleezy.

“This café is 30 minutes away from campus, there’s literally one down the street from your apartment. Why wouldn’t you just go there? I work here to insure that I don’t run into anyone I know.” By your words, he seemed to gain something, but you didn’t know why the evil look in his eyes was present.

Chenle walked around you, causing you to turn around to follow him, not wanting him to be behind you at any point. “So, what you’re saying is, you don’t want anyone to know about this.” You slowly nodded, regretting saying anything to him.

“It would suck if I told anyone about this, wouldn’t it?”

“You can’t Chenle! Please, don’t. I’ll do anything!” You gasped, pleading for your secret to stay hidden.

“Anything?” He was sly, making sure that no matter what happened, he got the most out of it. In this situation, he would either get to bask in your embarrassment or he would get you.

You thought carefully about your next words, deciding if it would be worth it.

“What would you get out of it?” He shrugged nonchalantly before running his finger along the lace trimming of your skirt. “I think we both know that I’ll get you out of it at some point. However, you can just clean my apartment until then.”

Cleaning with the possibility of sex. You hated Chenle and he hated you, sex would never happen. However, cleaning didn’t seem so bad. It wasn’t as bad as everyone on campus knowing you worked at a maid café.

“Alright, sure.” You rolled your eyes at him, but you still couldn’t shake the feeling in your gut. You didn’t know what that feeling was, but you figured you’d find out eventually.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your feet felt heavy as they dragged you to Chenle’s front door. You wish they were truly as heavy as they felt so you wouldn’t be able to make it to the door. But still, no matter how much you wished your feet would somehow get cemented to the floor, you arrived in front of the wooden door.

Raising your fist to knock, you wondered if this was even worth it. Would it really be terrible if everyone knew about your job? Even the thought of people knowing made your skin crawl, so you went through with the plan and tapped your knuckles on the door.

Hearing a “One minute!” allowed you a bit of time to give yourself a breather and of course, Chenle being Chenle, that minute, turned into a few.

The door swung open once you decided to pull out your phone. Chenle, looking like he had just rolled out of bed, leaned against the frame. His eyes went from your trench coat to your sock covered legs, and down to your heels. His eyes never once reached our face until it was to question your appearance.

“Where’s the maid dress I requested? That was a crucial part of the deal.” Rolling your eyes, you grabbed the belt of the coat and pulled it loose, allowing the front to fall to the sides, baring your outfit to him.

“Ah, there we go. Such a good pretty maid. My pretty maid.” There must be something in the air, because no way in hell did Zhong Chenle’s words make you clench your thighs. Maybe it was the way he was looking at you with those sleepy eyes and smiling at you with that tired smile. Whatever it was, you hated it, but at the same time, you wanted it.

You wanted more.

More of him.

However, you needed to ignore the feelings and just get on with the deal you made. “Alright, what do you want me to clean first?” Smiling, he stepped aside, but not enough for you not to touch. Your side brushed his and he didn’t move until you were all the way in the large apartment.

“Well, you’re gonna clean something I hate cleaning.” It’s going to be his bathroom; you just know it.

Chenle led you through his penthouse sized apartment and said nothing. Walking through the living room that connected to the kitchen and following him down the hallway, he stopped in front of the 4th room on the left.

“Here’s where the porcelain throne stands.” The bathroom. Of course it was going to be the fucking bathroom.

You stepped into the bathroom that was easily bigger than your entire bedroom. Chenle on the other hand bent down and opened the cabinets underneath the sink. “So I don’t know if you’re allergic to any of these products, so I bought you these gloves. The chemical in the orange bottle makes my hands red so, be careful with that one.” You watched as he placed everything on top of the vanity.

Chenle stood back up and handed you the pale pink rubber gloves. “I wanted them to match your outfit.” You grimaced when you looked around the bathroom. For being so rich, the stereotypical housekeeper was nowhere to be seen.

“That’s why I have you.” Your body was facing the mirror and when you looked up to see the voice, Chenle’s mouth was against your ear. Apparently, you had said that out loud. “You’re my pretty little maid. We made a deal and I’m gonna use you in any way I want until you either back out or I’ve had enough.”

He gave your ear an open-mouthed kiss, lightly slapped your thigh where your skin showed and left.

We made a deal and I’m gonna use you in any way I want until you either back out or I’ve had enough.

He wants to sleep with you. Or that’s what he made it seem like.

Not knowing where to start, you decided on cleaning the floor last, just so if anything dripped onto it, you wouldn’t have to clean it twice. 

You were immediately thankful for your thinking since as soon as you picked up one of the spray bottles, it leaked onto the floor once you spritzed onto the washcloth.

Rolling your eyes to yourself, you went ahead and put on the gloves just in case anything else leaked unexpectedly. The gloves were your size which was helpful, you wouldn’t have to worry about the glove sliding down while you were cleaning.

Pulling the gloves on your hands and up to the middle of your forearms, you closed your eyes and randomly picked another bottle. Letting fate decide which disgusting bathroom appliance of Chenle’s you’d have to clean first.

Opening your eyes, bottle in hand, you read the description. You kneeled down by the edge of the bathtub, leaned against the side and started spraying around the tub.

You didn’t mind cleaning, you felt as if it was oddly therapeutic. Spraying the liquid, wiping it away, and watching all the gunk disappear. It was easy to let your mind slip and wander as the hypnotic sight played out in front of you.

The bathtub, toilet, mirrors, sink, and vanities were all clean after about 45 minutes. Your mind wandering definitely caused you to move a bit slower than normal but at least it went by fast. Reaching for more floor cleaner, Chenle walked into the room and just stood there. Stood there and watched you clean.

Tired of his watchful eyes, you abruptly stopped and slapped your covered thighs in annoyance. “Can I help you?” He leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed and a stupid smirk plastered onto his face. He shook his head and continued to watch. “Then why are you looking at me?” You refused to clean one more tile until you knew why he was standing there.

“Am I not allowed to look at my maid? She’s really pretty, it’s hard not to stare when I’ve got her kneeling on the floor for me.” Rolling your eyes at him, you reached for the bottle with the goal of ignoring him. “And now I’ve got her rolling her eyes back!” No matter how annoying he was at this moment, you laughed at him and threw the rag you were using to clean the floor with at him.

“Oh my god, fuck off man.” He caught the flying rag that was headed towards his face and grinned. “Nah I just wanted to tell you that I’ve got sandwiches on the table for lunch.” Chenle reached his hand out to you and shook it lightly, telling you to grab it. Placing your hand in the warmth of his, he helped you off the floor and led you to the kitchen. Your head hurt from the intense smell of his expensive cologne, the feeling of his hand still holding yours, and the thought of him making sandwiches himself, for you.

Pulling away from him to pour yourself some lemonade, with a shaking hand you picked it up by the handle and used the spout of the pitcher to ensure that nothing spilled out. Watching the pale-yellow drink pour into the cup, you listened to Chenle behind you. The crinkle sound the bag of chips made solved the mystery of where he was standing.

When your cup was full you placed the glass pitcher back down on the counter, the soft clink letting you know it was secure. Turning around to sit down at the table, you didn’t know that Chenle had also moved but he was now right behind you. Your chests collided, causing you to spill the lemonade on yourself and Chenle.

“I’m so sorry, it was an accident!” You could hear the drink drip on the floor but all you were concerned about was the stain that was surely going to be on his shirt in a few minutes. The stark white behind the yellow worried you. “Take off your shirt, let me spray it and go throw it in the washer.” His silence scared you more than the stain. He hadn’t said anything but when you looked up at him with wide eyes, he was just smiling while watching you panic.

“Haven’t even been here for an hour and you already wanna rip my clothes off.” He tsked in a mocking way but nonetheless he took off his shirt. When you reached for the shirt, he threw it behind him but stepped closer to you.

His face was so close to yours and quite frankly, you didn’t know what to do. You knew what you wanted to do, but that was a whole different thing.

“Chenle, we shouldn’t.” He backed you into the kitchen island, watching your every move. “Why not?” He looked into your frantic eyes that were searching for a way out. Chenle placed his hands on the counter at your sides, slightly behind you, caging you in.

“T-the deal?” You assumed it was obvious but as you said it, you knew it didn’t make sense and you were screwed. “I think we both know that this-” he pointed between the two of you, “-isn’t a part of the deal.” He was right. You hated him but that didn’t mean you didn’t want him.

He took another step closer to you, the space that was once between you was now gone. “All you gotta do is tell me to stop. I will stop, immediately.” As his lips moved, they brushed against yours.

“Push me away and I’ll stop this. You can go back to cleaning.” You would’ve laughed at him if you weren’t starting to get wet. The thought of Chenle doing whatever sick things he wanted to do to you took over your common sense and hatred.

You stood up on your toes, teasing his lips with yours before pressing them together.

Instead of laughing at you and cracking some perverted joke, Chenle caressed your uniformed sides. Continuing to kiss you, he leaned back, allowing you to put your full weight on him. His chest was much firmer than you originally thought. Under the baggy clothes he wore was a muscular, sculpted body. As much as you enjoyed feeling him, you wanted to see him.

“Chenle-” The name that whispered out was one you never would’ve thought you’d say in this way. He didn’t say anything back, but he knew exactly what you wanted. Chenle grazed the exposed skin between your thigh highs and the hem of your skirt. Those gentle touches turn rough as he picked you up by the back of your thighs. He held you close and just looked at you a bit when the movement broke the kiss.

The expression that painted his face could only be explained by confusion. He was internally battling with himself over the situation, much like yourself. The years of fighting and insults and tears were ignored by your lower halves, which were begging for something, anything.

Still without exchanging any words, Chenle turned around so he could see where you were headed, and you couldn’t. While he took you to whichever room in his apartment he wanted, you set yourself a personal goal of marking him. You placed both wet and sucking open-mouthed kisses along the column of his pale neck. His steps faltered a tad when you assumed you found his sweet spot. You didn’t hold back there, sucking the skin hard enough to leave an immediate red mark.

Chenle’s breath was heavy now, more than before. He feared that you had control over him, but whether it was because of the deal or the feeling in your bodies, it was the opposite. Feeling so wrapped up in your own world of bruising his neck, you didn’t realize how far he had walked.

You gasped as your back hit the bed and then giggled once you bounced. Chenle was standing at the foot of the bed, looming over your flushed figure. You went to make eye contact with him only to see that his eyes weren’t on yours. His were so clearly focused on your thighs. Your skirt was pushed up from your impact on the bed and your thighs were pressed against each other. While seeing that he wasn’t looking at you did make your heart ache a bit, but you quickly decided to use it to your advantage.

While still watching him, you slowly parted your thighs are raised your skirt even more. This allowed him to see your white panties that now had a very visible wet spot from your arousal.

“My pretty maid has such a pretty pussy.”  

“You haven’t even seen it yet.”

“That’s right, maybe you should take off your panties. Please let me see you.”

His voice had a whiny edge to it. Desperation laced it and it caused you to give in. Using your heels, you lifted your hips off the bed and hooked your fingers in the waistband of your panties and slipped them down your legs. They were still hanging off of one of your ankles, so you lifted your leg and brought the panties towards his face.

“My maid is a little tease too.” Chenle grabbed the panties from your ankle and brought them up to his nose. As the smell of your arousal entered his nostrils, his eyes rolled back, and a red tint covered his face.

Crawling on the bed towards your head, he planted kisses along your clothed body, letting out boyish giggles when he felt you twitch from it tickling. When his face was hovering over yours, you pulled him down by the back of his neck and smashed your lips together.

His tongue licked across the seam of your lips, pleading for entry, and who were you to deny him. Chenle’s smile was so obvious that you could feel it in the smile. You lifted your legs and wrapped them around his slim waist, keeping him as close as possible to you.

You tilted your head a bit, trying to get his lips on yours even more, if that was even possible. He matched movements, seemingly trying to do the same. Moans and laughs were the only things heard throughout the room, until a ringing sounded.

“Fuck! My fucking phone.” Chenle grumbled, several apologies and quick kisses were landed along your body as he picked himself up and grabbed the ringing phone that was on the nightstand.

“I’m” kiss “so” kiss “fucking” kiss “sorry”. You laughed at him and nodded, letting him up by releasing your legs’ grip on him. Chenle rolled his eyes, mimicked his father’s voice but nonetheless answered the phone before the ringing stopped.

Immediately the conversation turned serious, and he stepped out of the room. As soon as his figure disappeared into the hallway, the feeling of lust and lightheadedness left your body and shame took over. What the hell was that.

Your body was cold now, no longer embraced by the heat of Chenle’s body pressed against yours. But the cold sweat and the dry throat was enough to force you out of bed and towards the bathroom. Walking on your tippytoes to prevent any noise, you made your way to the bathroom.

Closing the door slowly, making sure the door didn’t creak, you splashed cold water on your face and cupped water in your hands and brought them up to your lips.

The cold water running down your throat soothed you, but still not as much as you needed it to. You almost had sex with Chenle. You liked it. And you were upset that you were interrupted.

Looking in the mirror, laughing at yourself, you shook your head and opened the door. Jumping a bit at the sight of Chenle leaning on the wall next to it, he was still on the phone.

He was slouching and opening and closing his mouth in a mocking sense of his father. He smiled at the giggle you let out. Chenle’s smile faded though, his expression turning solemn again. He looked at you and you looked at him, both of you silently agreeing that it was your time to leave.

With one last glance, you made your way out, but you could still feel his eyes following you, watching you leave. You had to stay strong and resist the urge to look behind you. Although difficult, you succeeded. It was difficult to understand what you were feeling, you hated him, and he hated you, but you wanted him, and he wanted you. You didn’t have to like someone to be attracted to them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As soon as you knocked on the door, Chenle opened it and pulled you in with your wrist. “Chenle, wha-” He interrupted you by kissing your mouth, not even giving you time to react before he started talking. “I just need you, I wanna try something new that I saw.” Every type of kink was flying through your mind, or at least the ones you haven’t tried yet. “Are you okay with this?”

“Yeah, what is it though?” Chenle walked you to the master bedroom, him leading you from behind. Every time he tightened his grip on your waist, you clenched your thighs, wondering what he had planned.

“I bought you some more maid dresses, some like your uniform and others, not so much. I just didn’t want you to ruin your uniform.” He opened the armoire that hadn’t been there the last time you were there. The opened doors revealed several different dresses from pink to black and others that weren’t traditional collars. They ranged from different styles and materials, but they all had one thing in common, they were obviously expensive. With the dresses hanging from a rod at the top, there was about a half of foot of space from the dresses to the bottom of the section of the armoire.

Before you said anything about what you saw, Chenle spoke up. “I know how much you like the Mary Jane heels, so I bought you a bunch of different kinds and you can keep all of them even after the deal.” You turned around to face him and smiled.

“I can’t believe this, thank you so much!” You walked over to him; heels clicking on the hard wood floors and kissed his cheek. “That isn’t all.” His words trailed on, he refused to look at you, and he scratched the back of his neck. But the thing that made you giggle was the blush that spread across his entire face.

This Chenle was different, he was more vulnerable which allowed you to relax a bit even with the sexual undertone. “The drawers.” He pointed to the four drawers that were built in, under the doors of the armoire.

Raising one of your eyebrows, you walked backwards still keeping an eye on Chenle who still refused to look at you. Turning around and kneeling, you opened the first drawer, the top one on the left. As soon as everything inside was in your view, you heard Chenle make a slapping noise.

When you looked behind you, over your shoulder, he was covering his eyes with his right hand. Looking back at the drawer, you felt the fabric of the several sets of lingerie. Some were classier, babydoll styles with sheer fabric to cover the skin and others were blatantly sexy, garter belts, hooks and rings, matched with crotchless panties.

“Oh my god Chenle, what a fucking freak.” Your voice was laced with tease, making sure Chenle knew that you weren’t truly making fun of him. His ears were now burning red, and you were worried that he’d start crying soon.

Opening the drawer next to the one you were in now; you saw even more sets of lingerie. You coughed at the thought of the price of all of them. “Okay, okay, I thought you’d look pretty in them, so I bought them, move on.” Laughing at Chenle’s pleading groan, you smiled but complied. Closing the drawers and moving on to the bottom ones.

You decided to just open them both at the same time, ripping it off like a Band-Aid. “Chenle-” Gasping at the sight that was in front of you. You didn’t think you’ve ever seen this many different sex toys in one place. Dildos, vibrators, gags, collars, leases, floggers, candles, and that wasn’t even it. There were things that you didn’t even know what they were.

“Are these for me too?” Your eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. You never would’ve thought that Chenle would spend this much money on you. You closed the drawers, got up, and approached Chenle who was still seated at the foot of his bed.

You pushed his chest back, causing his back to hit the bed. With him now lying flat, you climbed on top of him, straddling him. “What kind of shit do you want to do to me? Huh?” You laid your chest on his, your breasts pressing against him now.

His hands enclosed around your hips and pulled you closer to his face. “I wanna make you cry and beg.” Biting your lip at his words, you got up off of him and looked at your new collection of dresses. “You got me all worked up, what do you wanna do first?”

You looked through all the toys in the drawers, looking at all the ones you weren’t familiar with. “This dress, these heels, and this toy.” Chenle threw the dress behind him at the bed and picked up the heels and the toy that kind of resembled an oxygen mask.

“What even is that?” You followed Chenle to the bed and tried to figure out what exactly was the thing he was holding. “It’s a pussy pump. It’s gonna make that tiny pussy all swollen and sensitive for me.” Oh.

“I’ll leave you to put on the dress, just call me in when you’re ready.” He kissed your head and walked out, leaving you alone with yourself.

You kicked off your heels after unbuckling them. It took a few tries to reach the zipper behind you but after you got it and pulled down, the dress pooled at your feet.

“Do you want me to leave my bra and panties on?” Chenle didn’t pick out a set, so you weren’t sure of what he wanted. “No, just the dress and heels.”

Unhooking your bra and pulling down your panties, you picked up the dress and just looked at it a bit. You hadn’t gotten to see it when he pulled it out of the closet. It was a pink frilly one, really short too. Looking over at the pussy pump that Chenle picked out, you thought about what it would do to you. You knew that it would basically do from what he had said but Chenle didn’t say what it would actually do.

Deciding to just wait for Chenle to help you through it, you pulled the dress over your head. There wasn’t a zipper, the hem that held the bust up was just elastic, so it fitted.

The way you looked at yourself in the mirror and assessed the way you looked reminded you of how you would prepare for a shift. You felt pretty in frills at work, and you felt pretty right now, standing in Chenle’s penthouse bedroom in a pink dress that he bought for you. ‘

From the way your hair sat to the way your socks were tugged up, you made sure you looked pretty with Chenle in mind.

“I’m all done!” You called out and waited for Chenle to walk back in. Calming your breathing to make sure you could hear Chenle’s footsteps didn’t help, because they never came. The door immediately opened with Chenle walking in.

“Were you just waiting right out the door?” You made eye contact with him through the mirror. Even though you expected a verbal answer to your question, you received something else. A compliment.

“You look so pretty. My pretty maid. My pretty girl.” He walked up behind you, still holding eye contact and wrapped his arms around your waist. You liked the weight of his arms on your hips, and he liked the way it felt to have your skin touching his. When you turned your head to look at him directly, your noses lightly knocked against each other from close proximity.

Chenle squeezed your hips and started walking you backwards, leaving wet kisses on your neck until the back of his knees hit his bed. He sat down and just pulled you down with him. Both of you were still facing the mirror. “I want you to watch yourself during this. Since we’re bringing in new and more intense things into the bedroom, what do you want you safe word to be. I don’t want you to feel like you don’t have any control.”

With how short the dress was, being spread out on Chenle’s lap bared everything to your eyes. Your knees were hooked over his and since his legs were spread, so were yours. The obscene sight was the only thing you could pay attention do. The warm lighting made the both of you glow, and with Chenle’s sincere look, you relaxed in his hold and allowed yourself to slouch against him.

“I get that you’re really pretty, but this is important. I’m gonna need you to answer me if you wanna start.” He spoke quietly against your ear and looked at you through the mirror since it was the only thing you were paying attention to you.

“Look at me.” Through the mirror, your eyes connected. “No, look at me.” Sucking in a breath, you turned your head to look at Chenle. “So, what do you want your safe word to be?” His fingers lightly brushed your thighs, drawing shapes along your smooth skin.

Giggling, you thought about a word that was a bit silly and on theme. “How about Windex?” Chenle’s normal obnoxious laugh was dialed down for the serious conversation. “I mean, if that’s what you want it to be, I’m happy with it. However, I hope to never put you in a situation where you need to use it.” Your giggling died down and you smiled softly at Chenle, you wanted to live in the sweet moment, but with Chenle’s half hard cock sitting against your ass, your pussy spread out, and the pussy pump next to you, you needed him to do something.

“Alright, it feels like you’re getting needy with all your squirming, let’s get you wet.”

Chenle started with just looking at you through the mirror, at your pussy specifically. “Chenle, just hurry. Please.” He laughed at you and brought his hands from your thighs to your naval. He rubbed the junction of your thighs and naval, inching closer and closer to that place you needed him the most.

With one last whimper from you, Chenle gave in to what you wanted. He ran two fingers through your wet lips. He circled around your hole that was clenching around nothing, but he still didn’t fuck you yet.

“How are you so fucking wet already?” It was a rhetorical question. He knew the answer and so did you. It was because of him.

One of his hands disappeared from your cunt and picked up something from your side. The pussy pump.

He kissed the back of your neck and placed the chamber on your pussy after removing his other hand, now using it to hold the pump.

In his left hand he held the chamber to you and with his right was the pump. He gave the hand pump an experimental pump to see if it would stay. Like a vacuum, it gave your pussy a suctioned feel. It wasn’t like what you’ve seen with a penis pump. It didn’t blow air into you, instead it sucked it.

Giving it a few more pumps, Chenle watched and listened to you. Whining at the new feeling, you looked at yourself. “Chenle, it feels really weird.” He chuckled lowly in your ear and instead of saying something he just pumped it again and again.

You watched what it was doing to you through the mirror. “Oh my god, Chenle!” He didn’t give you a break during it, he pumped it, listened to your noises and then continued with his ministrations.

Tears formed in your eyes at the feeling.

You didn’t think that Chenle could possibly pump it again as the chamber was impossibly tight around your cunt, but he was able to prove you wrong.

It wasn’t your pleas or begs that persuaded him to stop. It was his own impatience. He flicked the valve and released the suction. The blood flow returned to your cunt and your clit throbbed, already so sensitive and Chenle himself has barely touched you.

The chamber fell from no longer being supported and you gasped at the sight. He wasn’t joking when he said it would cause your pussy to be swollen and you didn’t know how long it would last like that. You didn’t even move, scared to feel it.

“Oh my god, fucking look at it.” Chenle flicked your clit that had easily grown twice its original size. You screamed at the feeling, it felt as if he had already been touching you, for the whole day possibly. “How long is this gonna last?” Your thighs jumped when he ran three fingers through your folds. Playing with the swollen flesh and wetness, he thought out loud. “Imagine you stayed like this forever, ruined for anyone to ever come after me. Proof that you let me do these things to you. Think about what people would think if they saw you like this. Fucking whore.”

He slapped, pinched, and stuffed your pussy, forcing you to let out gasps, moans, and screams. It wasn’t until you felt his cock prod at your dripping hole. You had felt him get his cock out of his sweats, but you thought he was going to give you a minute before he fucked you.

“Wait, Chenle, just give me a moment.” He complied but still asked, “Do you want to use your safe word?” Shaking your head, you leaned back against Chenle, starting to take a breather. It quickly came to an end though when his hands tightened around your waist, picked you up, and placed you on the ground.

“While you wait, you’re gonna clean.” He smiled and threw you one of the old towels that he used to clean. You stared at him in disbelief, jaw dropping once you saw him scoot back on the bed, back against the headboard.

“What? You want to wait, but we might as well be productive during it. And get your tits out.” The stark difference of Chenle’s attitude towards you was something you were ashamed to admit that it made you wet.

Still listening to him though, you pulled the bust of your dress down and let the elastic snap under your breasts.

You got up from your spot on the floor to go grab the floor cleaner. When you walked your pussy clenched from sensitivity. “The floor isn’t gonna clean itself and at this point you’re just gonna have more to clean with the way your dripping all over it.” When you were standing over your original spot on the floor, about to kneel down you noticed that there were small droplets from you. Chenle just laughed when you looked down, not being able to hold eye contact with him.

Deciding to go ahead and start cleaning, you sprayed some of the floor cleaner on the rag and started to scrub the floor. “My pretty little mindless doll.” His voice was gentle with a hint of being condescending. Every time you would scrub the floor a bit harder your breasts would bounce and Chenle would palm his aching cock with more pressure.

Even though you had only been on the ground for a few minutes, you needed him to do something. You didn’t want to wait any longer. You needed to be fucked. “Chenle, please. Do something, anything.” His smile turned devious and soon after, you felt the flash and heard the click of a polaroid camera.

Chenle waited for the film to develop before he approached you. Crouching down to your level, he placed the humiliating photo in your line of sight. “Who’s is that?”

When you were about to say it was you, you realized that he said, ‘who’s is that’ not ‘who is that’. “Yours.” Smiling and placing the photo in his phone case, he helped you off the floor.

“Even though you’re a slut who doesn’t deserve to be fucked on a bed, you can rest your knees just since I’m nice.” His grip on your upper arm helped him throw you onto the bed. Your skirt lifted in the process and showed Chenle the curve of your ass.

“Spread your legs. Now.”

Laying on your stomach, you did what you were told. Chenle stood behind you, watching you listen to him. “Such a good little maid. My little slut.” Chenle ran his palm over the smooth skin of your ass before landing a harsh slap on it. He felt his dick twitch at the sight of the muscle jiggling at the impact.

“I need to be in you, need to cum inside that sweet pussy.” Climbing on the bed, knees on either side of your hips, Chenle pulled your ass a part as far as your would stretch before slamming inside your dripping hole.

“Fuck! Chenle! Feel so, so good.” Your eyes rolled back at the feeling of his cock dragging against your gummy walls.

With every thrust in your cunt, you could feel Chenle’s balls slap against your thighs, and every now and then you felt a slap against your ass.

“Yeah, this is what you were made for huh, just a hole for me to dump my cum into. But don’t worry slut, you’re the best whore there is, so willing to take everything I give you.” To emphasize his point, Chenle ran his finger through your swollen folds and flicked your puffy clit, reminding you of what you allowed him to do to your body.

Never once slowing his pace, Chenle tightened his grip on your hips and pulled your ass up off the bed, so he’d have better access to your clit. With the new position, your weight was being held up by your knees and chest, but with the angle of your body, your face was smashed into the mattress, muffling every noise that came out of your mouth. 

Your pussy throbbed, needing to release already. With the pussy pump, it felt like Chenle had already had his way with you, several times. The feeling of his fingers flicking and pinching your clit plus the head of his cock kissing the spot deep inside you was making you feel overstimulated, even though you haven’t even cum yet.

“Chenle, please, please, let me cum. I need it.” Rolling the bud between his pointer finger and thump, Chenle added pressure, squeezing it. “Yeah, go ahead, but just because you’re cumming so quick doesn’t mean we’re stopping any time soon.”

Deciding that Chenle’s trade wasn’t a now issue, you agreed foolishly. The need to cum was the only thing on your mind and once Chenle gave you permission, you let go. However, you didn’t think you would cum as much as you did.

Screaming into the blankets, you soaked Chenle’s waist and torso, squirting harder and harder as Chenle kept going. “My messy little baby, I told you, I’m not done playing with you yet. But that little pussy controls you huh, you just couldn’t help it!” Chenle laughed at you, mockingly.

“The only thing in that empty little head is thought of cumming on my dick.” Chenle fisted your hair from the back and forced your head to nod up and down into the blanket. “Wow, you’re already so cock drunk that you can’t even make your own decisions. Don’t worry though baby, I’m here so you don’t have to worry about thinking, I’ll do everything for you.”

Every single word that left Chenle’s lips were spoken in a sickeningly sweet tone that was so obviously fake. His words affected you heavily and that didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“Ah, little slut likes being talked down to! M’not sure why I’m surprised, I bet you’ve always wanted this, me using you, belittling you. Because that’s what sluts like you want.”

Once again, he forced you to nod, but it wasn’t like you disagreed.

“Come on pretty baby, lemme see you. Let me see what you look like while I ruin you.” Without taking his dick out, Chenle rolled you over and onto your back.

With each thrust Chenle watched your tits, occasionally reaching out and slapping the soft mounds. He could feel your walls clench around his pistoling cock. He didn’t want to admit it, but he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. The feeling of your walls, the outline of his dick in your lower stomach, and the look on your face, he knew he was about to cum, and he wasn’t going to pull out to do it.

“You wanna cum?” You nodded, eyes rolled back, and jaw hung open, you were ready. Chenle’s pace sped up and each time he hit your g-spot, forcing you closer and closer to the edge.

Finally, with one last strong thrust from him, the knot in your stomach unraveled. Squeezing his dick impossibly tight, he came as well.

White heat ran through your veins, your vision had gone white, and you held on to Chenle’s shoulders since you needed literally anything to hold on to. You needed something to ground you. Chenle continued to roll his hips, riding out your highs and then some so you weren’t forced into a sudden stop.

“Chenle~”, you whined, wanting him closer to your shaking body. He understood and lowered himself onto you without crushing you under his weight. He signed into your neck, breathing you in and out. You did the same to him, hiding from the world, protected by his warmth.  

The two of you stayed in that position for a while. It wasn’t until Chenle could feel your wetness dry on his skin before he slowly pulled out and coxed you to use the bathroom.

Although moving was the last thing you wanted, you still allowed him to scoop you up, but not without whining of course.

Chenle placed your feet on the ground and made sure that you were steady before he helped you out of your dress. Your heels were long gone, somewhere discarded on the floor, but they weren’t anywhere in your mind at the moment.

He stepped out of the bathroom, telling you to use the bathroom so you wouldn’t get a UTI. You listened but called him back in once you were done and washed up.

“Let’s take a shower, get you all clean.” He smiled at you and helped you into the walk-in shower.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clocking out of your shift, you walked into the dark night. You were so happy that they put more streetlights in the parking lot, you and Minjeong both agreed that you felt so much safer now with the illuminated area. However, no matter how many lights they installed, with how much rain was pouring from the sky, you couldn’t see anything. And to make matters even worse, you didn’t even have an umbrella.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” Your heels splashed in the puddles as you dug in your purse for your car keys. Of course, right now was the time that your keys fell to the bottom of your purse, and you actually had to stop outside your car and dig around. The rain was stingingly painful. It was freezing cold and felt like little needles pricking your skin.

Your hand brushed metal that jingled in your purse. Almost ripping the keys out, you clicked unlock and as soon as you heard your doors click you ripped the door open and threw yourself in the seat.

Shivering in your seat, your body was even colder now that you were out of the rain. Your dress had gone see through and it was sticking to your body. Turning on the car and immediately cranking the heat to the warmest setting and so it would come out the fastest.

Not eve waiting for your car to warm up, you put the car in drive and pulled out of your parking spot and out of the lot. The shivering didn’t stop or even slow until you had been driving for several minutes but then you were almost at your apartment.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Your parking in your designated parking spot outside the complex was definitely not good to say the least. The passenger side of the car was on the line and even then, you were crooked within the lines. But you didn’t care, you had gone over the speed limit the entire drive there and you weren’t about to take extra minutes in the rain to fix it.

Making sure you had everything together, you cracked the door open, made sure all the doors were locked, and then made a run for the awning. Once again, you were colder after you were no longer in the rain, and you could barely hear yourself panting over the loud pitter padders of the rain above you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sniffled, sucking the snot back into your nose. Your head was throbbing, and it hurt to swallow. But nevertheless, you were walking out of the elevator once it arrived at Chenle’s floor. The thought of texting Chenle to say that you were sick crossed your mind, but you decided against it. Your past self would kill you if the thought of enjoying Chenle’s company, his cock, crossed your mind.

Clearing your throat and sniffling once more, you knocked on his door. You liked spending time with Chenle and based on him always answering the door immediately, you thought the feeling was returned.

“Hey, oh my god, are you okay?” So much for the bit of extra makeup to try and put the life back into your face. “I’m fine! Now, let me in.” Chenle moved to let you in, but he didn’t believe your words in the slightest. “You’re obviously sick, when did you start feeling this way? I saw you two days ago, and you were okay.”

“I got stuck in the rain last night for a bit after my shift, but I promise, I’m okay! What do you want me to clean first?” His eyes were wide with concern as he watched you shrug off your jacket and headed to the cabinet where he held the cleaning supplies.

Stepping in your way, he placed his hands on your shoulders. “Woah, woah, woah. You’re not gonna clean anything right now. But what you are going to do is go put on some more comfortable clothes and lay down.” You were confused why Chenle wasn’t just making you leave, but your screaming joints and muscles were louder than your worries. On shaking feet, you walked towards Chenle’s room, his closet specifically.

Not daring to even touch the designer sweatpants and baggy shirts, you looked for the brand that was the cheapest. Nike. His cheapest brand was Nike and even then, the pants and shirts were the most expensive of them. Kicking off your heels and taking off the long socks, you unzipped your dress and stepped out of it. Just in your bra and panties, you took Chenle’s clothes off their respective hangers and tugged the pants up your legs and the shirt over your head.

The floors were cold under your feet, from the hardwood in his bedroom and to the marble of the kitchen, it all caused a chill to run down your spine. It was either that, the fact that you were sick, or because of the domestic nature of wearing Chenle’s clothes.

“Do you feel any better?” The loose clothes felt better on your warm skin than your dress did, and you let Chenle know that. “I’m glad.” He kissed the side of your head as he rounded the kitchen island to retrieve his phone which was on the other side. “What do you want to eat? Hopefully having some solid food in your stomach will make you feel better.” You just nodded and tangled your fingers together, thinking about what sounded good.

“If you want soup there’s a place with a really good French onion down the street. But if-” he scrolled on his phone as he spoke out options until you interrupted him. “French onion sounds good.” You smiled at him. Even though you were smiling at him on the inside, you were frowning at yourself on the inside, mad that you were allowing yourself to feel comfortable around him so quickly.

“It’s really good, don’t worry.” He somehow could see your worry. The corners of your lips turned upwards at the sight of him dialing the number of the restaurant and placing your order. You wanted him to come closer, to wrap you up in his arms, cornering you, making you feel safe. You hated the feeling, but at the same time, you wanted nothing more.

“Chenle-” You finished just as quickly as you had started. He looked up from his phone, eyes boring into yours, watching you so intently that you thought that if you moved, he’d look away. You felt frozen as he looked at you, waiting for you to finish what you were saying. The words disappeared somewhere in the space between you two, lost in the chilled air.

He had no use for his phone anymore, so he placed it back on the white marble countertop and walked over to you. Even though his body moved, his eyes stayed still, continuing to hold your gaze. Once you could feel the heat radiating off his body and onto yours, you looked away, no longer able to hold eye contact. He said your name just like you had said his, quietly, slowly, longingly.

Looking back up at him, your lips ghosted the other’s. Not even a centimeter apart. The air you breathed out was the air he breathed in, and vice versa. Your noses brushed the other’s as you interlocked lips.

When you went to lace your hands in his hair, you felt the familiar tickle in your nose. Knowing immediately what was to come, you pushed Chenle away, turned, brought your elbow up to your face, and sneezed.

Chenle laughed as you wiped your nose. He tugged your closer to him and hugged you, your back to his chest. “Sorry for pushing you away, I didn’t want to sneeze on you.” Sniffling and giggling, you looked at him and smiled. “I appreciate that.” His smile gave you chills. It was so genuine; you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

You just wanted to stare at him, but your body had other plans. That first sneeze wasn’t the last. You broke free from Chenle’s arms and sneezed again, three times in a row. Your head was throbbing at this point and the sneezing didn’t help whatsoever.

Chenle noticed the sway in your stand. The dazed look in your glossed over eyes told him that you needed to lie down. “Alrighty baby, it’s time to lay you down.” He wrapped his left arm around your waist and put your weight onto him.

Baby. He called you baby.

Chenle walked you to his room, slowly, making sure that you wouldn’t fall. “My head hurts Lele.”

If your eyes weren’t almost swollen shut, you would’ve seen the blush that covered his entire face. All the way to his ears and down his neck.

Lele. You called him Lele.

“I know, we’ll lay down and hopefully it’ll be gone when you wake up.” Chenle helped you lay down. He whispered that he’d be back in a minute, and he was gone.

Closing your eyes, you brought the plush blankets up to your chin and fluttered your legs a bit, nestling in his soft bed. The burring that came with keeping them open immediately vanished. Your skin was hot even though you felt cold. The heat that the blankets provided was much appreciated.

However, you shivered as soon as something freezing hit your forehead.

“Chenle?” When you were about to open your eyes, Chenle shushed you. “It’s a washcloth. We need to break your fever before it gets worse.” You let him know about your disapproval by grumbling, but you didn’t state your complaint verbally.

He laughed at the noise and made his way around the bed to his side of it. “M’tired Lele.” He agreed and pulled your body closer to his.

Sleep came easily for both of you; however, sleep wasn’t interested in staying for you. Every couple of minutes you would wake up, toss and turn for a bit, and then fall back asleep. It wasn’t until Chenle felt this routine for about the umpteenth time before he wrapped his arms around your body tightly and pulled your back to his chest. Your half-awake mind decided that this position was comfortable enough, as you didn’t wake up again until hours later.

Your eyes stayed shut even after you woke up, the headache returned immediately, and you were determined to continue to sleep until you were no longer sick. But your goal was easily washed away when your pillow rumbled. The soft cushion moved at the same time you heard quiet laughter. A slight weight on top of your head joined the new sensations. But that weight didn’t still, it moved down your head, ran through your hair.

Deciding to fight against the crust that had built up around your eyes, you moved your hand up to your face and wiped the crust away with your fingertips. Once you deemed your eyes free of any annoyances, you opened them. The immediate sight was heavily blurred, the light fixture above you seemed extra bright but with the soft warm hue, you were able to get used to it quickly and soon you figured out that your rumbling pillow was Chenle’s thigh, and that weight was his hand massaging your head.

“Lele~”, your voice was drawn out, still deep and husky with sleep but Chenle understood you and smiled gently down at you. “How did you sleep? You were out for a while.” You sat up slightly to be upright and next to Chenle, but your straight posture didn’t last long, and you slouched into his side. “I still don’t feel good.” Without saying anything Chenle felt your forehead again, frowned, and picked up some water from the nightstand next to him.

The cold glass that was being brought up to your lips was the only thing that made you realize just how thirsty you really were. Chenle helped you drink the water slowly as your hands were still laced with that sleepy weakness. The soothing feeling of the water was welcomed, helping your sore throat significantly.

Silence filled the room, except for the TV playing some show that caused Chenle to laugh occasionally and your heavy breathing through your mouth as your nose was clogged. During a particularly quiet part of the show, your breathing was audible to Chenle, and you laughed. “I’m sorry for being a mouth-breather during your show.” Your apology made him laugh in which he gently assured you that it was okay and he’s sorry you feel so terrible.

“So, what did you do while I was asleep?” Pure curiosity got the best of you, and you wanted the visualization of what Chenle does when he’s alone. “Well, I was asleep with you for about two hours but when I woke up, I just stayed next to you in case you needed anything. I watched the movie I needed to for my communications class and I’m now ahead in most of my classes.” You were glad that your chest wasn’t pressed to Chenle because he definitely would’ve felt the tempo of the beating speed up. He stayed with you.

You would honestly, whole-heartedly say that you didn’t mind being sick. Chenle had treated you with a gentle tenderness that you didn’t think he was capable of. The thought of your guys’ feud and hatred for each other made you sad for the first time ever.

But you pushed the negative notion away and snuggled into Chenle even more, loving the unspoken reward of his arm wrapping around your shoulder, holding you securely to him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the second month of your deal. Your knees hurt from kneeling on the floor to scrub the floors and your hands hurt from all the chemicals since you refused to use the gloves that he bought you. You refused to use anything Chenle had bought you if it was him attempting to be nice. Even though you two had had your moments, you couldn’t shake the thought of him just using you in some way.

Knocking on the door, you were expecting Chenle to make you wait and then finally greet you with a sleezy smile. But what you were met with made you step back. Chenle swung the door open and stepped forward.

“Let me see your hands and knees.” Instead of listening to him, you hid, you hid your hands behind your back and looked away. “I’m not fucking asking, show me your hands and knees.”

Chenle’s eyes showed that he wasn’t joking, this was the most serious or angry you have ever seen him. He stepped aside and nodded towards his apartment, urging you do walk in. You decided it would be better to listen to him and when you passed him and he’d be able to see your hands, you moved them to hide in front of you. But it didn’t work because as soon as your hands weren’t interlocked with each other, Chenle wrapped his hand around your wrist and pulled your arm up.

He gasped at the discolored splotches of your skin, where the skin was rubbed raw, and bumps were forming in some spots. “This is why I bought you gloves.” His voice wasn’t stern anymore, more so remorseful.

“Come on, I have some ointment for this.” His fingers intertwined with yours, and he lightly pulled you to the bathroom. Chenle’s hands were nice and cold, a good contrast to the heated and irritated skin of your own.

You unfortunately knew where his bathroom was. It reminded you of the first day of this mess. But based on Chenle’s change in attitude, you had a feeling that this bathroom would bring a new memory.

When he led you to the bathroom, he didn’t say a single thing. He didn’t make fun of you or scold you or degrade you. Instead he waited until your back was in front of the vanity. He bent down and wrapped his hands around the backs of your thighs and gently placed you on top of the bathroom counter.

“Is it alright if I roll down your socks?” His face was level with yours. “Yeah, that’s fine.” You nodded at him but looked away when you felt his hands on your thighs.

His pale fingers lingered on your skin longer than they needed to, but it was comfortable. Chenle did what he said he would and pulled down your socks. You could hear his swallow once he saw the dark blue bruises that littered your knees.

“I even bought you the best knee pads I could find so this wouldn’t happen.” He shook his head and turned around. He rustled through the medicine cabinet. You assumed he was looking for the ointment he had mentioned.

While his back was turned to you, you looked at his outfit. He was wearing a black fitted muscle tee and gray sweatpants. If you weren’t so embarrassed, you probably would’ve been drooling on any other day.

“Alright, this one is for your hands and this one will help the bruises heal faster.” He looked back at you and popped up one of the caps. “This one is going to burn a bit where the cuts are a bit open but that just mean it’s working.”

Chenle took one of your hands into his, cradling it with upmost care. He dapped the cream on your hand and allowed you to squeeze his own when the burning kicked in. He never said anything to you when your legs twitched at the pain. He made sure all the white liquid was rubbed in and no longer burning.

“And we’re done with your hands. The bruise ointment doesn’t hurt at all, it’ll feel almost cold, but it’ll be more soothing than anything.” You appreciated that he was walking you through everything he was doing without making you feel dumb and with the look he gave you, you felt anything but that.

You were pulled out of your daze when he brought your hands up to his lips one by one and planted a gentle kiss on ever irritated spot. Chenle didn’t look up at you when he did this, nor did he when he explained himself. “My mom always said that if someone you’re close to is hurt, kissing the spot that hurts makes them feel better quicker.”

He didn’t wait for you to respond before he knelt in front you in between your knees. He looked up at you from his knelt position. Chenle just stared at you for a few minutes, and you just stared back.

“Chenle-” He stood back up quickly, grabbed the back of your neck and connected your lips. Your hands fisted his t-shirt. He whispered your name against your lips and tugged you closer, so close that your chests were touching and there wasn’t any room to breathe in between.

Although you couldn’t fit a hand between your bodies you still tried to move closer. You felt your butt get closer to the edge of the vanity and before you could wrap your head around the fact that you were about to fall, you fell.

Your already abused knees hit the floor and you let out a cry. Chenle fell with you purposely, immediately addressing your pain. “Ah fuck, I’m so sorry!” He apologized even though it wasn’t his fault. He pulled you into his lap, letting your knees rest from the pressure of the ground.

“I’m gonna put the ointment on you, again, it’s just gonna be cold.” You heard him twist off the lid. He dipped his pointer and middle finger in the white cream.

He was right when he said it was cold. You gasped at the sensation and clutched onto him. Your breath was already shaky from the pain. Chenle rubbed it in gently, soft enough to prevent it from being painful but still firm enough to get it done quickly.

While you intently watched Chenle aid you back to health once again, you realized that as time progressed, your time spent together consisted of less cleaning and more…intimate activities, and not just sex either. 

Tears were still streaming down your face still and Chenle wiped the ointment residue on his shirt but still wiped your tears off with the back of his hands to avoid getting the cream on your face.

“How about this, it’s getting late already so how about I cook us some dinner and we can have an easy night. You can go change into some of my clothes if you want.” He smiled at you and kissed your lips; you kissed back but Chenle didn’t let you deepen it like you wanted. Chenle laughed at your little pout, kissed your bottom lip that was jutted out, and helped you up.

He held you hand and led you to his room. “I’ll be in the kitchen, just let me know if you need anything. Join me whenever you’re finished and comfortable.” You nodded and kissed him one last time. You loved kissing Chenle even though you wouldn’t admit it out loud. The feeling of his lips now was much different than the feeling of them when you first kissed. They were softer, smoother, almost nicer you’d say. He started using chapstick for you.

Even after having kissed Chenle several times before, he still left a tingling sensation on your lips. Once you were behind the door of his walk-in closet, you leaned against it and lightly touched your lips. The realization of what you were doing hit though and you mentally kicked yourself. Returning to the task at hand, you looked at Chenle’s closet, the familiar items stuck out to you, and you wanted to wear something you had seen him wearing recently.

The familiar black and grey striped hoodie caught your eye, and you took it off its hanger and slipping it on your bare body. Your dress was already crumbled on the floor, but you ignored it and went to the drawers that stored his sweatpants. Remembering the pair that you wore last time; you picked those and relished the comfortable feeling they brought.

When you were done, you crouched down and collected the pieces of your previous outfit and placed them in the tote bag that you had left in the bathroom. As you approached the kitchen, you could hear Chenle softly singing. You didn’t know that he could sing, and you wanted nothing more than to hear more. So, you entered the kitchen as quietly as possible and just stood there. Thinking about sitting in a chair at the island did occur but you quickly decided against it as the possibility of the chair scrapping across the floor would alert Chenle and the singing would most likely come to an end, which you didn’t want whatsoever.

But your secret viewing of the domestic concert came to an end anyways once Chenle turned around to plate whatever was in the saucepan. He smiled at you, deciding to ignore the fact that hearing him sing caused a blush to take over his face. “I hope you’re okay with me just reheating some leftover pasta, I didn’t want to keep you waiting.” You pulled out one of the chairs from under the island and thanked Chenle, ensuring him that dinner was perfect.

Instead of sitting in the sit across from you, Chenle sat in the one next to you. With his right hand he ate but with his left he rubbed your thigh over the sweatpants. It was silent for the most part, Chenle didn’t do anything to spark the conversation, however, he just looked at you. His eyes were telling you something, something you have never heard from him before, but you couldn’t for the life of you figure out that the look in his eyes were trying to convey.

The pasta was soon gone from the plates and now in your stomachs. With the fullness in your belly and the warmth that Chenle was bringing your body, you yawned, tiredness consuming your body and mind.

“Let’s go to bed, baby.” He called you baby, and you weren’t even sick. “You want me…to stay?” Chenle looked at you like you were insane, like you were purple with two heads.

“Of course I want you to stay, why wouldn’t I?” You just shook your head and watched him clean up the kitchen, which in retrospect, should be your job. “Shouldn’t I clean the table?”

The question shocked Chenle, “I guess I forgot about the deal to be honest, until now of course. You’re not as bad as I thought. And please, that isn’t supposed to sound bad. You’re not bad at all.” He was tripping over his own words, digging himself in a deeper and deeper hole. His ears were pink, and a nervous smile took over his lips.

“You’re not too bad yourself Zhong.” Chenle approached you slowly, the warm lighting highlighting his features beautifully. Once he was right next to you, he leaned down and pecked your lips. It was soft and sweet and said exactly what needed to be said.

“Now let’s actually go to bed, I can tell that you’re tired.” You were, and the fact that it was probably the dark circles under your eyes that told him so, you still felt the fluttering in your heart at the thought of him knowing you.

What Chenle did next surprised you, he bent down and scooped you off the chair. “Oh my god! What the hell Chenle!”

“Shhh, just let me carry you!” Giggling as Chenle carried you to the bedroom, you littered his cheeks, lips, and nose with several tiny kisses. He started giggling as well. You assumed your pecks were starting to tickle him because his pace picked up and soon you were in the air. Yelling as you landed on the plush bed, your loud laugh mixed with Chenle’s dolphin like howl.

“Now we’re waking your neighbors!” You covered your mouth and squeezed your nose, trying to calm yourself before you actually woke his neighbors or worse, pissed yourself.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Chenle jumped on the bed, next to you. His impact caused you to bounce and the giggling increased. The two of you, giggling into the other’s mouth, were rolling around the bed uncontrollably. The tiredness was most likely at fault for the fit of giggles, but it was almost like you were high. High off each other.  

You rolled onto Chenle’s chest and kissed him. Both of you were already panting, trying to catch your breath after the laughing session but the kiss definitely winded you as well.

The heavy breathing slowed the giggles and forced you to take a break from the other’s lips. Chenle was on his back, and you had rolled off of him and laid on your stomach right next to him. You looked at each other in silence, stupid dopey smiles decorating your flushed faces.

The moment lasted until seemingly simultaneously you and Chenle both closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep, but not before Chenle rose his hands in the air and clapped twice to turn off the lights.  

Chenle’s mood was similar to the one he carried before the two of you got to know each other. You didn’t know what had changed but you still walked out of the café and towards him.

“I just can’t fathom the fact that you get all dolled up like this just to go to work at a maid café. I didn’t think this type of outfit was your style. You look a bit ridiculous.” You were used to Chenle being mean to you, it has happened since grade school and all the way to your current Uni days. Him picking fun at your looks wasn’t surprising either, he’d always call you ugly or something like when you were kids but now, it hurt worse than ever. And for once, he seemed to pick up on it.

“What’d I say?” He huffed out a laugh through his nose, not believing what he was about to see in front of him. You crying. Chenle’s cocky smirk fell off his face, “Woah, woah, woah, what’s the matter L/n?” You looked away from him as tears started to fall down your face. Chenle cupped your now wet cheeks and turned your head towards him. Concern was written across his face. “You’ve never cried before, just tell me what’s wrong. Please.” The chill from being outside caught up with you and you shivered, your bare arms were now littered with goosebumps. Chenle immediately noticed this and pulled you into his coat clad body, trying to transfer his body heat to yours.

“Please tell me where I pushed it too far. I know I make things difficult, but I can’t stand seeing you cry because of me.” This was very unlike him, but you were too upset to ponder on it.

“I felt pretty like this.” The crack in your whispered confession made him want to kill himself for ever making you feel like this. Pulling you away from his chest, he saw your mascara running down your cheeks, snot leaking out of your nose, and your eyes were already puffy from the crying. “Oh, no, no, no. You are pretty, the absolute prettiest. I think you’re the most beautiful person to ever walk the Earth.” “I think-” He was interrupted by you slapping his chest, hard.

“It’s always ‘Well I think’ or ‘Well I didn’t think’. You need to make up your fucking mind Chenle. You think a lot of things while not thinking at all. And I’m done with this whole being your maid deal, go ahead and tell everyone, I don’t care anymore. I’m tired of you always treating me like dogshit. I’m done with the deal, and I’m done with you.” You turned on your heel and started walking away from the café and away from Chenle. Your tears were no longer of sadness or from being insecure. The tears now felt hot with rage. But, instead of lashing out even more, you just wanted out of the situation. 

Minjeong who got off of her shift 15 minutes after you got off yours was walking out of the backdoor and towards her car. You cleared your throat and wiped your tears, “Minjeong! Can I catch a ride with you?” She could hear the bubble in your throat and met you halfway.

“What happened?” She looked at you and then looked over your shoulder. “I’m gonna fucking kill you Zhong!” You put your hand out, stopping her from approaching Chenle. “Let’s just go Minjeong.” She ignored the anger inside of her and just huffed, held her nose in the air, and pulled you to her car.

Before she let you explain what exactly happened, she listed all the fun things you two were going to do tonight to cheer you up. But still all you could think of was Chenle. Even though he has hurt you in the past and continued to hurt you, you still had some sick soft spot for him. Maybe it was caused by the moments after the two of you would have sex, or the times he would pick you up from work or even visit you at work to give you a break from the creepy men. You liked Chenle and you hated him for it. But most of all you hated yourself for it.

Minjeong was still shit talking Chenle while you pulled out of the parking lot, and you refused to look back at him, but you could see him through the passenger’s side mirror. It had started to rain and Chenle was still standing under the streetlight, watching Minjeong’s car drive away. Watching you drive away.

You ruled out any possibility of him caring about you the moment he let you leave with Minjeong. If he liked you like he led on, he would’ve stopped you. He would’ve explained whatever sick reasoning he had, but he didn’t. He watched you leave and thinking about it, the fact that he didn’t fight for you, hurt more than anything he’s ever said to you.

“You need to get him out of your head. I know it just happened and you two have the weirdest relationship I’ve seen but it’s better to get him out of your head now.” You kept looking back at Chenle until he was out of sight. “Minjeong, I fucking hate that I love him.” It was the first time you’ve ever said it out loud, but she knew.

You looked down to your lap and played with the frills of your skirt, running your fingers along the lace. Watching the streetlights pass by the lights themselves were just blurring from your eyes still being teary. “Minjeong?” You turned your head but still didn’t look up. “Yeah?” She placed her hand on yours, putting a stop to the shaking.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” She laughed and shook her head. “I wasn’t even going to give you a choice. Even if you asked me to take you home, the answer was going to be a no.”

The two of you fell into a calming silence that was only interrupted by your sniffles and then a gasp once you felt your phone buzz.

“Oh my god, it’s Chenle.” Minjeong whipped her head around to yell not to answer it. “Well I don’t wanna talk to him right now.” You ignored the call, and her shoulders released their tension. “I’m proud, he doesn’t deserve your tears and he certainly doesn’t deserve your time.”

“I’m gonna miss him.” She placed a comforting hand on yours, eliminating the shakiness. “At least it was just sex, right?” Minjeong tried figuring out where you and him truly stood so she could assist the situation better.

“No, I wish it was, but it wasn’t.” Your hand slipped from beneath hers and raised along with your other to cover your face.

Minjeong didn’t pry for anything else, the rest of the car ride was silent, or at least until she pulled into the drive through. “What do you want?” Turning your head from looking out your window and out Minjeong’s, you rubbed the tears out of your eyes so you could read the menu without the blur.

“I’ll have chicken nuggets and a vanilla shake, thank you Minjeong.” She smiled and placed your orders with the person speaking in the microphone and pulled up to the window when instructed to.

The person at the window looked at your outfits and tried to suppress a laugh but once he saw your swollen face, his smile disappeared, and he just took Minjeong’s card to pay for the meal.  

“I can’t believe Chenle can be such an ass, especially after everything the two of you have been through. Sure you guys didn’t like each other but I saw the way he looked at you! I saw the change!” Minjeong broke her own rule about not talking about Chenle and the more she spoke about how much Chenle supposedly liked you, the more you felt your feelings disappear. What he said reminded you of what he was like before the deal was made, but along the way, the deal didn’t exist anymore, and it was just Chenle and you. You didn’t understand what processed him to say what he said but you didn’t care anymore.

Sniffling once more, you wiped your tears and leaned across Minjeong. “Hey, do you think I could get your number?” The guy at the window shot you a sleazy look and wrote down his snap on a napkin. You shot him a flirty wink and sat back in your seat naturally.

The guy handed Minjeong your food and called out to you, “I’ll be looking forward to talking to you.” Minjeong though, drove away before he could even finish the poor excuse of flirting. When you looked at her, surprised by her speeding, her eyes were filled with anger. “What?”

“What? What? What do you mean ‘what’? You just broke off your relationship with Chenle! I don’t care how hurt you are, but you are not moving on that quick, the only thing that guy is going to do, is make the situation worse.” Minjeong took the napkin with the barely eligible handwriting on it, without taking her eyes off the road, and she crumpled it up and put it in her apron pocket.

Minjeong didn’t allow you to get a word in before she started talking, “The both of us are going to call out tomorrow, from both school and work and have a little day to allow you to sit and wallow. But after that, you’re getting back on track where you lived in a world without Chenle.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was right, she sent the emails and made the calls herself on your behalf so you wouldn’t have to reach out to anyone unless you wanted to. However, the constant checking your phone wishing that Chenle was the cause of those notifications, caused your day to go much slower than it would’ve with him.

But no matter how many times you flipped your phone face side up to see the screen, Minjeong did a good job on distracting you. The two of you binge watched damn near all of One Direction’s content for the sole purpose of Minjeong getting to see Harry Styles on the screen.

The day did eventually come to an end though and you were forced into getting ready to go back into the real world.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your step had a bit of extra pep in it and it was because of the thick wad of cash that sat in one of the hidden pockets in your skirt. You had your usual top customers that requested for you specifically all come around at some point today, so of course, your tips for it showed.

The sun felt nice on your skin, the several days long rain had finally ended and as the dark clouds floated away, so did your sore mood. Along with your thoughts of-

“Y/n! Please let me talk to you! Just for a bit, please!”

Chenle.

Looking behind your shoulder, you kept walking to your car. “Well I don’t want to talk to you.” Facing your head towards the parking lot, you spotted your car and made a beeline for it. Ignoring the begs and pleas coming from the man behind you, you just kept walking. That was until you literally couldn’t.

Chenle had sprinted in front of you and had his back to your driver’s side door.

“Chenle. Move, I want to go home.” He shook his head. “I miss you so much, you don’t even understand.” You scoffed, unable to hold in your disgust. “You miss me as your maid and fuckdoll, give me a fucking break.”

Walking closer to him, you tried to pry him off of the door. “No, I love you. I need you back into my life. I miss the moments when we were us.” You knew exactly what he was talking about, they were the same moments that caused you to fall in love with him.

“I know you know what I’m talking about. Please just forgive me. I didn’t mean to push it too far, I didn’t know you had changed, I was expecting you to throw something back at me. If I knew our relationship had changed, I never would’ve done it.”

He looked like he had walked through hell. His hair was a greasy mess, his eyes were bloodshot, he had dark circles under them, and his usual designer casual wear was nowhere to be seen. In Gucci and Louis Vuitton’s place was a grey pair of food stain covered sweatpants and a heavily wrinkled dark green shirt. He didn’t look like The Chenle. The person standing in front of you now was the closest version of Chenle that you knew. But this time, he wasn’t behind closed doors. He was refusing to let you in your car and begging you to forgive him.

“Now, how do you think our relationship changed?” Your arms were crossed against your chest. You mentally stabbed yourself for even allowing him a chance to explain himself.

“After a few weeks of fucking, we stopped with the insults. We started actually talking and, and, and you stayed passed the time you were done cleaning. You stayed for dinner with me, you, you, we slept together without actually having sex.” He was bringing up good points but in a very poor way. These things meant a lot to you too but with his portrayal of events, you didn’t have you convinced yet. Even though he never lost you in the first place.

“Remember when you weren’t feeling well but still came over to clean? I noticed that you weren’t feeling well and instead of telling you that you didn’t have to clean, and you could go home, I suggested you stay at my place, and we could have a comfortable lazy day.” Your stomach hurt for two reasons that day, the stomach bug that had taken over your body, and then a virus, Chenle. Chenle made you feel so pleasant that day. From him rubbing your stomach and shoulders on the back to him washing your hair that night and letting you sleep in his bed cuddled up against him.

He was right, your relationship had changed. It had changed so much that you went from wishing he’d disappear off the face of the earth to wishing he’d never disappear from your side.

Chenle could see you thinking, over the time you had spent together, he had learned to read you. He could read you from before, but he only knew what pissed you off. Now, he knew almost everything.

“Please, I’ll do anything. I can’t lose you when I love and need you this much.” You knew that you were going to take him back, but you still wanted him to suffer.

“Anything?” Although you tried to play coy, he immediately caught on and answered your question. “You know I’d do anything for you.” He cupped the back of your neck, looked into your eyes, and with that single close-mouthed kiss, your relationship was sealed.

Your hands moved from your sides to his shoulders and finally reached their destination curled in his hair that was now the color you had suggested to him, pink.

You hid your smile in this chest, he had made you cry in several different ways, but now, he was making you smile. “Chenle-” he shushed you. “I just wanna hold you, I never want to let you go again and I’m not going to mess up again.” His hands clutched onto you tightly, emphasizing his point.

“I love you Chenle and I hate you for it.” He laughed; it was high pitched like that was the last thing he imagined leaving your mouth. Once his laughter died down, he looked at you, really at you. “I love you too, but it’s the best thing to ever happened to me.”

🌹🌹𝔧𝔞𝔢𝔪𝔦𝔫 & 𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔫𝔩𝔢 𝔞𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔩𝔨𝔢𝔯🌹🌹

🥀jisung’s will be posted tomorrow 🥀

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 : 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔰𝔢𝔵𝔲𝔞𝔩 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔳𝔦𝔬𝔩𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢. 𝔦𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔰𝔬𝔯𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔟𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲, 𝔭𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔢 𝔡𝔬𝔫’𝔱 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡

afterglow | zcl

summary : in which you felt fed up with chenle and walked out after a fight, but you were uncertain whether he’d make an effort to save your relationship.

pairing : chenle x fem!reader

genre : romance, angst

word count : 2.1k

you were having an argument with chenle. you tried to tell him that you felt a little uneasy about one of his female friends, but he downplayed your emotions and it irked you.

"don't you think you're being unfair?" you asked, frustration evident in your voice. "you're allowed to be jealous of every single person you think is hitting on me, but i'm not even allowed to feel upset that you have a close friend who obviously likes you?"

chenle responded dismissively. "it doesn't matter if someone likes me. all my friends know i'm head over heels for you. besides, none of my friends have openly told me they like me. i can't say the same to you and your so-called guy friends."

"i already rejected him," you countered, your voice rising. "how many times do i have to tell you that?"

"it doesn't look like you did because he's obviously still expecting something from you." he retorted, crossing his arms.

"i don't know how else to convince you. why do you always do this? every time i try to tell you how i feel, you always find a way to somehow turn it around on me, and it ends with you feeling more upset than i am."

"look, you don't need to worry about me. i couldn't care less about anyone who might like me. but you? you're too soft with that friend of yours. you might not see it, but it's obvious to everyone else how he hangs all over you. and you're not doing enough to stop it."

"but i don't like him, i never did and i never will. you also have nothing to worry about. why can't you let it go?"

chenle sighed, his eyes narrowing. "the same reason you can't let go of your concerns about my friend. no matter what i say, you're still upset and you're still jealous. that's exactly how i feel."

"so what do you want me to do?" you asked, exasperated.

"nothing. you can't do what i want."

"you want me to stop being friends with him? is that it?" you asked, incredulous. "will you do it for me if i ask you the same thing?" you challenged him. but chenle didn't respond; he just rolled his eyes and turned his back on you.

you felt so pissed off. chenle was always so unfair to you whenever you had a fight. you almost screamed at him to get out, but then you remembered you were at his house. you grabbed your things and turned to the door. you were about to leave when you heard chenle's voice.

"you're leaving because of something so petty? seriously?" he said with a scoff.

you gave him a dirty look, your hand on the doorknob. "you were about to storm off to your room and shut me out anyway. we obviously don't want to see each other right now, so what's the point of me staying?" you didn't wait for him to respond. you immediately left, slamming the door behind you.

you knew you were being immature, but so was chenle. you weren't about to let him slam the door on you again, making you feel shitty and guilty, when he clearly didn't feel the same remorse. somehow, even when the fight was his fault, you always ended up being the first one to apologize. that made your stomach churn with resentment.

you weren't always like this. during the first few months of your relationship, you and chenle rarely fought. even when you did, they were just small arguments and you would always make up immediately. but now, almost two years into the relationship, after the honeymoon phase had worn off, things had changed dramatically. you started getting into more frequent and intense fights, and the tolerance and understanding that you had at the start had also faded.

honestly, part of the reason why you're always the first one to give in is that, no matter how angry you get at your boyfriend, you can never stay mad at him for long. you fear that if both of you remain stubborn and no one's going to swallow their pride, the fight would escalate and break the two of you apart. chenle, on the other hand, always seems to have no problem ignoring you for a long time. it only intensifies your frustration and hurt, making you feel even more upset with him than you already are.

you've decided you won't give in this time, no matter what. you're scared that he might do the same, matching your stubbornness with his own. but if he can't even swallow his pride for you, the person he claims to love most, then maybe you're better off apart.

you don't want that though — not really. your relationship, despite its flaws, means too much to you. you just hope he does things differently this time.

after leaving chenle's house, you returned to your own place. you tried to sleep, but your anger and frustration had morphed into a gnawing worry that made your stomach tied up in knots. deep down, you weren't confident that he would do right by you this time. the realization made you feel conflicted. is it really worth staying with him if this is how he consistently makes you feel?

the thought sent a wave of sadness through you. despite everything, you loved him deeply. the idea of your relationship ending made your chest tighten with fear. you didn't want this to be the final straw.

tears welled up in your eyes, spilling over onto your pillow. as you cried silently in your room, a mix of emotions washed over you; love, frustration, hope and disappointment all tangled together. eventually, exhaustion took over, and you drifted off into a fitful sleep.

your last conscious thought was a small hope that when you woke up in the morning, you'd see his name on the screen accompanied by an apology you'd been waiting for.

chenle sat by the sofa, his eyes fixed on his phone, waiting for your call. since you had walked out after your fight the night before, you still hadn't come knocking on his door. this was the first time you hadn't talked for this long after an argument. fear started creeping up because of the prolonged silence from you. his chest tightened at the thought that you might have finally decided you'd had enough of him and realized you deserved better. he couldn't bear the thought of losing you. as the day was coming to an end, the setting sun cast long shadows across his room, signaling the passage of time and deepening his anxiety.

he could no longer sit still and wait for you to come to him. what was stopping him from coming after you anyway? he didn't know. but he realized he had been selfish for always waiting for you to mend things all this time. chenle felt like he could lose you easily to other people; you were surrounded by many who liked you and wanted to be with you. because of that, he always felt threatened. letting you come to him first after a fight somehow gave him a sense of security that you loved him enough not to let others steal you away from him.

but he realized now how dumb that was. instead, he could end up losing you because of his inaction. he snapped out of his reverie and grabbed his car keys, walking hastily through the door.

you heard someone ring your doorbell, and you checked to see who it was. your heart leaped in both happiness and relief at the sight of chenle standing outside your door.

if you weren't in a fight with him, you would laugh at how ridiculous he looked wearing sunglasses. you were pretty sure the sun had already set and it was dark outside.

you were feeling different kinds of emotions as you stood there. relief that he had come, nervousness about what he might say, and a stubborn remnant of hurt from your fight. you took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for whatever was to come as you opened the door, finally seeing him up close.

"can i come in?" chenle asked quietly. you didn't respond verbally, but opened the door wider, allowing him to enter.

you closed the door slowly before turning around to face him. chenle stood in the middle of your living room, looking uncharacteristically uncertain.

you leaned back against the door, arms crossed protectively over your chest, waiting expectantly for him to speak.

"i'm sorry," he said, his voice was soft and sounded a bit tired. "i'm sorry about everything. i was only thinking about myself and took your words lightly. i kept dismissing your feelings because i was blinded by my own jealousy. i didn't realize i was hurting you." he stepped closer, gently cradling your face in his hands. "please, forgive me. i don't want to lose you over some stupid fight. i know i haven't been the best at showing it, but i love you so much."

his words caused tears to well up in your eyes. for the past 24 hours, you had felt an uncomfortable tightness in your chest, each second away from him making you fear you were closer to losing him. you knew you both had much to discuss, and the way you communicated with each other needed improvement. but at that moment, you felt a surge of relief knowing that despite all the fights, chenle still loved you.

"thank you for coming to me, and i'm sorry too," you said, holding the hand that was caressing your face. "i have so many things to say... but first, can i take off your sunglasses? they're distracting." as you removed them, you felt your heart clenched at the sight. chenle's eyes were red and puffy, evidence of hours spent crying. the thought of him crying by himself made your sadness deepen, triggering your own tears as you immediately embraced him. "i'm so sorry for leaving you alone last night."

you didn't usually walk out during your fights, and your departure likely made chenle realize that this argument was unlike any other. he must have thought you had reached your limit. you now understood the depth of his fear of losing you, mirroring your own fear of losing him.

chenle encircled you in his arms, resting his head on your shoulder and burying his face in the crook of your neck. his embrace conveyed how much he had missed you.

"no, i am sorry. i deserved it," he murmured against your skin. "if you hadn't left, i probably would've done the same thing as before and not realized what i'd done wrong. you've been patient with me all this time. i'm sorry for all the times i ignored how you feel. i'll be better for you, i promise." he said, pressing a tender kiss on your forehead.

as you stood there in each other's arms, you both silently acknowledged the work ahead to strengthen your relationship. the warmth of your reconciliation filled the room, replacing the tension that had hung between you just moments before.

you and chenle were now cuddling on your bed. your chin rested on top of his head while gently running your fingers through his hair. the simple gesture made his heart flutter. his arm draped comfortably around your waist as he nestled against you, closing his eyes and basking in the peaceful aftermath.

as you lay there, feeling warm and loved, you felt so relieved. the tension from your fight completely melted away, and you felt even more in love.

chenle shifted slightly, tilting his head to look up at you. "i think i've figured out the secret to never fighting again."

you raised an eyebrow. "huh? what's that?"

"we just stay like this forever." he replied with a grin. "can't argue if we're too busy cuddling."

"tempting offer, but we'll get hungry eventually." chenle pretended to consider this seriously.

"then we take turns getting snacks while the other one guards the cuddle spot."

"guard it from what exactly?" he shrugged, snuggling closer.

"i don't know. cuddle thieves? it's a very coveted position, you know." you rolled your eyes in amusement.

"you're ridiculous."

"yeah," he leaned up to place a gentle kiss on your lips. "but you love me." he whispered against your mouth. you couldn't help but smile and steal another kiss from him.

as you snuggled back together, you felt calm and happy. in that moment, holding each other close, you both silently promised to stick together. you knew your love hadn't just survived, it had grown even stronger.

Rivalry masterlist

An enemies-to-lovers Chenle x reader au

Summary: Y/n and Chenle’s parents have rival companies. They’ve been enemies their whole lives, always competing on everything. It seems as if the rivalry will go on forever, but fate has different plans. What could possibly make the two have a civil conversation and not turn everything into a competition?

(ft Haechan x Mark, Jeno x Jaemin)

Warnings: Swear words here and there, but nothing else

(Lmk if any of the links don’t work!)

COMPLETED

Introduction

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

Part 17 (Inspired fic)

Part 18

Part 19

Part 20

Part 21

Part 22

Part 23

Part 24

Part 25

Rivalry part 7

Rivalry part 7

An enemies-to-lovers Chenle x reader au (ft Haechan x Mark, Jeno x Jaemin)

Summary: Y/n and Chenle’s parents have rival companies. They’ve been enemies their whole lives, always competing on everything. It seems as if the rivalry will go on forever, but fate has different plans. What could possibly make the two have a civil conversation and not turn everything into a competition?

Warnings: swear words here and there

Previous part / Next part

Rivalry Masterlist            

Taglist: (if you want to be added lmk!)

@itsyaapollochild​

Rivalry part 8

Rivalry part 8

An enemies-to-lovers Chenle x reader au (ft Haechan x Mark, Jeno x Jaemin)

Summary: Y/n and Chenle’s parents have rival companies. They’ve been enemies their whole lives, always competing on everything. It seems as if the rivalry will go on forever, but fate has different plans. What could possibly make the two have a civil conversation and not turn everything into a competition?

Warnings: swear words here and there

Previous part / Next part

Rivalry Masterlist            

Taglist: (if you want to be added lmk!)

@itsyaapollochild​

Rivalry part 9

Rivalry part 9

An enemies-to-lovers Chenle x reader au (ft Haechan x Mark, Jeno x Jaemin)

Summary: Y/n and Chenle’s parents have rival companies. They’ve been enemies their whole lives, always competing on everything. It seems as if the rivalry will go on forever, but fate has different plans. What could possibly make the two have a civil conversation and not turn everything into a competition?

Warnings: swear words here and there

Previous part / Next part

Rivalry Masterlist            

Taglist: (if you want to be added lmk!)

@itsyaapollochild​

Rivalry part 10

Rivalry part 10

An enemies-to-lovers Chenle x reader au (ft Haechan x Mark, Jeno x Jaemin)

Summary: Y/n and Chenle’s parents have rival companies. They’ve been enemies their whole lives, always competing on everything. It seems as if the rivalry will go on forever, but fate has different plans. What could possibly make the two have a civil conversation and not turn everything into a competition?

Warnings: swear words here and there

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@itsyaapollochild​

Rivalry part 11

Rivalry part 11

An enemies-to-lovers Chenle x reader au (ft Haechan x Mark, Jeno x Jaemin)

Summary: Y/n and Chenle’s parents have rival companies. They’ve been enemies their whole lives, always competing on everything. It seems as if the rivalry will go on forever, but fate has different plans. What could possibly make the two have a civil conversation and not turn everything into a competition?

Warnings: swear words here and there

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@itsyaapollochild​

Rivalry part 12

Rivalry part 12

An enemies-to-lovers Chenle x reader au (ft Haechan x Mark, Jeno x Jaemin)

Summary: Y/n and Chenle’s parents have rival companies. They’ve been enemies their whole lives, always competing on everything. It seems as if the rivalry will go on forever, but fate has different plans. What could possibly make the two have a civil conversation and not turn everything into a competition?

Warnings: swear words here and there

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@itsyaapollochild​

Rivalry part 13

Rivalry part 13

An enemies-to-lovers Chenle x reader au (ft Haechan x Mark, Jeno x Jaemin)

Summary: Y/n and Chenle’s parents have rival companies. They’ve been enemies their whole lives, always competing on everything. It seems as if the rivalry will go on forever, but fate has different plans. What could possibly make the two have a civil conversation and not turn everything into a competition?

Warnings: swear words here and there

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@itsyaapollochild  @zcl01​ @peachzen27

Rivalry part 14

Rivalry part 14

An enemies-to-lovers Chenle x reader au (ft Haechan x Mark, Jeno x Jaemin)

Summary: Y/n and Chenle’s parents have rival companies. They’ve been enemies their whole lives, always competing on everything. It seems as if the rivalry will go on forever, but fate has different plans. What could possibly make the two have a civil conversation and not turn everything into a competition?

Warnings: swear words here and there

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Rivalry Masterlist            

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@itsyaapollochild @zcl01​ @peachzen27

Rivalry part 20

Rivalry part 20

An enemies-to-lovers Chenle x reader au (ft Haechan x Mark, Jeno x Jaemin)

Summary: Y/n and Chenle’s parents have rival companies. They’ve been enemies their whole lives, always competing on everything. It seems as if the rivalry will go on forever, but fate has different plans. What could possibly make the two have a civil conversation and not turn everything into a competition?

Warnings: swear words here and there

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Rivalry Masterlist

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@itsyaapollochild​   @zcl01​   @peachzen27​

Rivalry part 21

Rivalry part part 21

An enemies-to-lovers Chenle x reader au (ft Haechan x Mark, Jeno x Jaemin)

Summary: Y/n and Chenle’s parents have rival companies. They’ve been enemies their whole lives, always competing on everything. It seems as if the rivalry will go on forever, but fate has different plans. What could possibly make the two have a civil conversation and not turn everything into a competition?

Warnings: swear words here and there

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Rivalry Masterlist            

Taglist: (if you want to be added lmk!)

@itsyaapollochild​   @zcl01​   @peachzen27​

Rivalry part 25

Rivalry part 25

An enemies-to-lovers Chenle x reader au (ft Haechan x Mark, Jeno x Jaemin)

Summary: Y/n and Chenle’s parents have rival companies. They’ve been enemies their whole lives, always competing on everything. It seems as if the rivalry will go on forever, but fate has different plans. What could possibly make the two have a civil conversation and not turn everything into a competition?

Warnings: swear words here and there

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@itsyaapollochild   @zcl01   @peachzen27​ 

@prdshobi @leejoie

A/N: Thank you so much everyone for your support. This was my first social media au and I was afraid it would turn out horrible. Personally, I think that it wasn’t that bad after all. In any case, I enjoyed every second of making it and I hope you enjoyed every second of reading it! 

potential • z. chenle

pairing. zhong chenle x fem! reader genre. rich kids au, childhood friends au, friends with benefits au. angst, fluff, suggestive. word count. 20k (20.079) warnings. alcohol consumption, swearing, mentions of sexual activity, sexual innuendos, a heavy make out session or two, use of lyrics from ariana grande and sarah close and masking them as my own words a/n. why do we call it a rich kid chenle au when he's a rich kid irl. anyways for the fact that this was one of the most spontaneous fics ive ever written it sure did take a lot of time to execute. took a lot of inspo for the lifestyle from the sky castle kdrama so if its not accurate dont @ me bc ive never been rich LMAO

playlist. in my head – ariana grande ; successful – ariana grande ; nonsense – sabrina carpenter ; supermodel – måneskin ; that's what i like – bruno mars

You saw his potential without seeing credentials. And maybe that's the issue.

August 28, 2020 – somewhere in the Bali sea, 1:27 AM

The music is loud. The weather is humid.

Wrapping up the summer before your senior year, dancing around in the bar of the cruise ship in the middle of the ocean, one last stop before your 28-day cruise around Southeast Asia is over, the loud music from the bar rings in your ears as you dance around, a glass of expensive Mendis coconut Brandy swirling in your hold. The taste of the alcohol on your tongue burns, not quite used to the burning sensation in your mouth– this is one of the first times you’re drinking, since your parents were always big on prestige and acting classy. Your parents went to sleep, though– excited to explore Benoa tomorrow, to immerse themselves in nature and explore Bali’s temples and heritage. You, on the other hand, took this as an opportunity to party– accompanied by none other than your parents’ friend’s son, who grew into the position of your childhood best friend solely because his and your family have always been close, choosing to spend vacations together; a relationship that was mostly fueled by the immediate closeness of you two during the summer breaks and ski trips to Swiss Alps every January.

And while you’re no stranger to pearls, charity events in your parents’ mansion in Hong Kong, golf courses in Miami and fashion shows in Milan, growing up in the world of designer bags and prestigious titles, you feel quite stranded in the middle of the sweaty teenagers, all of them with the same social status as you, drinking expensive alcohol and swinging your hips to the EDM music playing through the speakers. It almost feels like this is the first time you’re able to enjoy yourself without anyone’s supervision, screaming at the top of your lungs into Zhong Chenle’s face as he laughs at you on the dance floor, and truth be told, you could care less about the pictures you’re going to take for your Instagram tomorrow, showing everyone just how good you’re doing and how much fun you’re having on your lengthy cruises around the continent, because somehow, even though the bar is clothed in gold and you feel a bit like in The great Gatsby, this feels like the least pressuring part of the whole trip.

“We should go to parties more often!” you scream into Chenle’s ear, taking a sip of your Brandy as you twirl yourself around him, the straps of your sparkly spaghetti-strap tiny top falling off your shoulders in a moment of carelessness, your thoughts somewhere completely else. You may be 19 years old and insanely wealthy, but that still doesn’t mean you are experienced in the art of partying– quite the opposite, actually, having to always seem cultivated and presenting yourself in a way that would suggest that your family is high on prestige and recognition– so to finally be surrounded by people your age, dancing along to the music and jumping up as you all chant the lyrics to Barbie girl by Aqua (how ironic) feels quite ecstatic.

“Like our parents would let us,” Chenle rolls his eyes, lips almost pressed against the shell of your ear as he makes sure to get close enough for you to hear him.

Sighing at his argument– knowing he’s absolutely right, but also hating the fact that he had to ruin your mood by stating it out loud– you shake your head as you down the last bits of your drink, putting the heavy glass onto the tray of a waiter that’s passing by to gather the rest of the empty ones scattered across the shiny tables in the corner of the room. Your brain is starting to get a little fuzzy and you can’t help the giggling escaping out of your throat whenever your eyes meet Chenle’s, the flush on the boy’s cheeks hinting at the fact that he’s not any better at handling his alcohol than you, having just as much experience in heavy drinking and partying as you do. 

You’re only 19 years old and you don’t know a lot about the world. After all, you were brought up in a family that always did everything for you– you never had to move a single finger. You never even had to clean your room, because your parents had people that would come by every morning while you were in school, just so you could arrive home to a tidy place when you were done with your lectures. You went to a private school, so you were always surrounded by people with a status similar to yours. You spoke about your tutoring classes that cost more than groceries for a middle-class family a week, you talked about your trips abroad, and if you had time, you even went shopping with your classmates after school before your driver picked you up and drove you back into the suburbs; your neighborhood guarded by a gate, the asphalt behind it so much smoother than it is in the rest of the town.

You never got to experience partying like this– only gaping with an open mouth when you saw those scenes in the movies you watched on Netflix in your own private movie room. And if you’re being totally honest, you never imagined enjoying such a thing. You never had the experience, so you didn’t really yearn for it, but now that you’re here, surrounded by loud music, experiencing the weird emotional feeling that comes with being in a crowd screaming in joy at the same time first-hand on your own skin, you don’t think you’ll be able to go back to how you were before.

This is not how rich kids party. At least not when their parents are around.

“You’re gonna be hungover tomorrow morning,” Chenle mutters into your ear when your eyes light up at the sight of more alcohol, contemplating on getting another drink, just because. 

“And you’re not?” you tease him, pointing to his glossy eyes and lazy walk, his legs tangling with each other every few seconds from the haze he’s been put in just by having a few drinks. The sight is quite funny– the ever-so composed millionaire son is now a troubled mess in your eyes; one wrong step and he could ruin the image his family has spent years to build up, but it doesn’t seem like either of you care, tripping over your feet and lounging at each other in the middle of the dance floor. 

Feeling like you’re playing a dangerous game, hanging off his neck and swaying your hips to the rhythmic beat, you gape into his blown-out eyes and desperately try to get your brain straight. The more you drank and the more you spent time in Chenle’s close proximity, the less you were able to control your emotions and the weird thoughts in your brain that have been slowly eating up all your notions for quite some time now. Gaping at his plump lips and feeling his palms burning at your hips, his fingers ever-so-slightly hovering above the curve of your ass, you’re finding it hard to concentrate on the music or on the words spilling off his tongue, his voice never shutting up even in the loud bar. You always told him he talks too much, but he doesn’t seem to mind– he seems to actually take much pride in his annoying tendencies, talking your ear off on multiple occasions even when you tell him he should probably stay quiet for at least a minute, so your brain could recharge.

Truth be told, you listen to him most of the time anyway. He always talks and you always listen, rolling your eyes at the snarky parts and giggling at the jokes; so the fact that you suddenly can’t focus and just desperately want him to shut the fuck up must be the effect of all the alcohol you’ve been drinking tonight. 

And your next step might as well be the main consequence of the coconut Brandy as well– because even though you’ve been dreaming of his plump lips on yours for quite some time now, you’ve never actually dared to act up on the desire. But your intention to make him go quiet seems to be working when the train of words stammering out of his mouth is cut off, a surprised noise trailing out of his throat when you kiss him on the dance floor; and to your surprise, he doesn’t seem to mind your weird sign of protest to his endless talking– quite the opposite, really, as he lets you take the lead and taste the mix of alcohol in the Long Island cocktails he’s been drinking the whole night off his tongue, your hands mindlessly trailing up to thread themselves into his hair. 

This is not your first time kissing a boy– you once pecked Song Eunseok on the lips when the two of you sneaked out of class one day in 9th grade– but you never once kissed anyone with such passion and desire before. You’re not sure where you got all the courage from and you’re also not sure where you learned all of this– but it must be working, with how heavily Chenle’s breathing when you finally let go of his lips and he rests his forehead against yours. In no time, he’s chasing you down again, drunk not only on the alcohol now as he tilts his head to get closer, one hand resting on the side of your neck, just a few inches below your jaw, keeping you in place. 

“You should learn how to shut up,” you mumble against his lips, breathing heavy as you break away from him again and open your eyes to meet your gaze with his. The music is still loud in your ears, but you swear you hear a static noise somewhere in your brain, a tingle in your fingertips making you feel like you’re about to have an out-of-body experience. Your drunken brain is not allowing you to ponder about your actions that much, not letting you think and contemplate the fact that you just made out with your childhood best friend on one of the most expensive cruise ships, drinking alcohol you weren’t supposed to spend so much money on, and maybe that’s a good thing– because there’s nothing stopping you in having the time of your life, no overthinking making you doubt your next steps and no feeling of shame or regret making the whole experience bitter as you dance pressed against your companion, letting him press short, yet daring kisses to your lips as time passes.

“I think I’m good,” he snickers, when the music suddenly cuts out, an announcer telling you that the bar closes at 2 AM and that this song is the last for the night.

Sighing in disappointment– because who even knows when the next time you’ll have this opportunity will come– you let Chenle lead you out of the bar, his hand glued around your exposed waist. Your walk is a little loop-sided and you two almost smash into the glass door (doesn’t matter that it’s automatic and it quite literally opened in front of your figures). Soon enough, you’re met with the golden interior of the cruise walls again, the design a little vintage, yet still luxurious, reminding you of the movie Titanic. Tripping over the doorsteps, hands getting caught on the red, velvety curtains hung around, you giggle at every word that comes out of Chenle’s mouth, bodies slowly, but surely getting closer and closer to your suite bedrooms. You’re quite sure your parents could hear you talking outside in the hall, but you choose to not ponder on what they would think of you if they saw you in this state too much, instead making yourself believe that they’re long asleep and won’t be woken up by your voices resonating through the quiet space. 

“So I guess this is where we say goodnight?” you mumble, hanging off Chenle’s neck. His breath smells of the vodka-tequila mix when he hovers over you, bodies off-balance pressed against the cold wall just outside of your bedroom. Flashing you a grin, face looking close to a cheshire cat, he nudges your nose with his, a quiet hum landing to your ear, not heard by anyone.

“Or we could stay up a little longer.”

Squirming under his touch, his lips softly, yet still a little uncoordinatedly landing on yours, you waste no time in unlocking the door to your room– even though you have a bit of trouble with finding the key in your small purse, even surprised you haven’t lost the bag somewhere in the middle of the night– letting your childhood friend in to your space at the suggestion, your clothed bodies falling to the soft cushions of the water bed. 

You’re only 19 and don’t know much about the world when you messily undress yourself under your friend’s eyes, blinded by the glints in his deep chocolate orbs when he looks at you from above and attacks your neck with kisses. And you usually don’t regret much, considering yourself a responsible individual, always rethinking everything and making sure it’s the right choice, but when you look back at this day now, you don’t really know if sleeping with Zhong Chenle on a cruise around Southeast Asia was the brightest idea of yours, considering the mental turmoil it’s gonna cause you on the way.

Well, at least you can say you lost your virginity somewhere in the middle of the Bali sea, and at least that’s something to boost your ego with, am I right…? 

July 12, 2007 – Tokyo DisneySea, 2:21 PM

If anyone asked you for your favorite childhood memory, you wouldn’t have a hard time picking one. Sure, one would think you have too many pleasant memories to choose from, so realistically, you should take more time to pick and weigh the value of each one, contemplating if the trip to Rome was a happier memory than the summer you spent in Los Angeles when you were 10, but you are 100%, completely in tune with the fact that if anyone ever asked you this very question, the words falling off their tongue with interest and enthusiasm, no judgment and no hidden intentions behind their question, you’d have an answer ready with a smile on your face.

You don’t hold much emotion to your past memories. You’ve been on more vacations than you can both count and remember growing up, and so even though you do think the pictures you took in Italy came out good and your skin glistens prettily in the warm sun, even though you do think you experienced a lot of fun while going to the Target for the first time with your nanny– the woman your mum hired just because your parents were too busy with their business meetings the whole time you walked the streets of Los Angeles with the new woman you were supposed to trust with your life at the ripe age of 10– you wouldn’t say any of those memories are as close to your heart as the trip you took to Japan with the Zhong family when you were 6, the summer before attending first grade.

This was the year you and Chenle watched the Pirates of the Caribbean together for the first time, and even though it wasn’t in the initial plan, you two spent hours and hours and hours  of the flight persuading your parents to take you to Tokyo Disneyland, because you heard from his cousin Yizhuo that you could meet Jack Sparrow if you went. While your plan didn’t exactly work and the two of you didn’t get to go to the large theme park– because your parents were busy, mostly traveling because of business and so they didn’t have the time to arrange it, the amount of sulking you two did when you arrived to the rented house in the expensive part of Tokyo to the teenager that was supposed to watch you two for the time being was enough for him to take you two on a short train ride to the twin of the famous theme park– the Tokyo DisneySea. 

The 15-minute train ride you three took to the theme park was your first, and also last time you ever rode such a mean of transport. All you were used to were expensive sports cars and limousines– you never imagined that people took such transport even every single day, at times. You and Chenle were so immersed in the journey that it was hard for your babysitter to get you out of the train, your small, excited bodies almost tripping over your own little feet as the raven-haired boy dragged you through the streets of Maihama station. 

You could see the towers of the park and you could smell the salt from the sea even from a distance. The whole atmosphere felt magical, giggles often erupting out of your throat as Yuta– the boy your parents hired to watch over you for the day– bought a bubble blower from one of the stands and blew out bubbles you two chased around and tried to pop before they got to the ground. There were no expensive cars in sight, no people dressed in suits and designer shoes– well, except from the two of you, but you couldn’t quite grasp the idea of how much your attire cost at that age yet– and you felt truly, insanely happy. The adults that always watched you when your parents went to business meetings were stern and serious, never letting you have much fun, but today was different, and you find yourself wondering why your parents even let you be babysat by a reckless teenager in the first place. He was 16 at the time– 10 years older than the both of you– and when you look back at the day now, you think it was the time pressure that brought your parents into hiring him. You bet they paid him a lot of money, hell, you bet they even lended him a credit card he could use to entertain you two for the whole afternoon, and even though you found him using it a few times, you didn’t think he spent just as much as all your previous babysitters did. 

Not that you knew the value of money back then, after all. Maybe the fact that you couldn’t tell how much money everything was worth back then is what truly made the whole day so carefree and happy for you.

You were children of wealthy Chinese business owners. You always had everything they saw in your eyes– you didn’t even have to say it out loud and it was held up to you on a silver platter. This day, though, you didn’t even have to use that much money– if you truly compare it to other vacations your families have been to– and you can’t help but think it’s ironic how despite this fact, this day is still your favorite childhood memory. 

The Tokyo DisneySea was catered to a more mature audience– even serving alcohol in the premises, a thing no other Disneyland does– but even though you were just 6 and couldn’t drink and there was no Jack Sparrow waiting for you in the streets of the theme park, you and Chenle had a blast. Maybe it was a good decision on Yuta’s part to take you to the DisneySea instead; it catered to your Pirates of the Caribbean needs perfectly despite it not being the initial theme. The ships and wooden coasts and harbors were enough for your imagination to create stories about pirates in your head, the three of you attending various rides and screaming at the top of your lungs together over the course of the afternoon.

“Wanna go to the Tower of Terror?” Yuta asked you, his toothy grin on full display as he dragged you two to the scary ride when you finally got to the American Waterfront. 

The teenager was wearing a black muscle top with L’arc en ciel written on it– you found out only a few years later that it was a japanese rock band– and with his long, black hair falling to his forehead, he looked just like the person that would enjoy scary rides and horror movies. You, however– you weren’t prepared to get scared by green ghosts and eerie music. Not at 6 years old anyways, although you doubt you’d do better on this day.

If there’s one thing you need to know about Zhong Chenle, it’s the fact that he’s a lover of horror. And Korean dramas. But mostly horror– a few years later, when you were both the age Nakamoto Yuta was when he brought you to the Tokyo DisneySea, your friend came to a Halloween party dressed like the clown from IT and managed to jump-scare you every moment he physically got. There was no surprise in the small boy liking the idea of attending the scary ride, and no matter how hard you tried and protested, there was no use in you saying no. Because the two of them wanted to go, and you, quoting Yuta, ‘couldn’t just stay alone outside’, so you were pretty much forced into the darkness of the Tower of Terror, your small body pressed against Chenle and Yuta’s– you refused to sit anywhere but sandwiched between the two in the middle of the cart– shutting your eyes close when the scary music started playing and you could feel the anxiety forming in the pit of your stomach.

You trembled the whole time, panic resting in your beating heart, and somewhere along the way, you found yourself clinging to Chenle’s small hand, squishing it so hard he screamed at you in the dim lightning of the ride. You didn’t let go, though– that’s what he gets for dragging you along– fracturing his bones wasn’t in your concerns, if it made you feel more secure and safe.

The fond memory of the day ends with the moment the scary ride is over and you finally get out of the darkness– with Yuta having to carry your out of terror half-paralyzed body from the cart. To this day, you still don’t have a clear outlook on why this day is your favorite childhood memory, but you think it might be the mix of Chenle’s excited laughter as he scared you every two seconds after the ride, the apologetic hug he enveloped you in after you almost burst to tears the third time, the taste of the sausage Yuta bought you two for dinner, the taxi ride to the rented house you had to take in a rush before your parents got back from their business meeting, and the melodic voice of your best friend when he sang you the opening theme to the Pirates of the Caribbean before you two fell asleep on the same bed in your hotel room.

Either way, despite the terror, you don’t think you’ve ever had this much fun ever again. 

When you peed the bed that night, your parents decided to never hire a teenager to look after the two of you again. From that moment alone, there was less horror, but also less fun.

May 5, 2019 – tennis courts in Jinqiao, Shanghai, 4:17 PM

One would think that growing up with Zhong Chenle would put him into a position of your almost-brother. And while you did agree with the statement on most days– like when he laughed so hard that snot came out of his nose and almost fell into your lunch plate when you were 15, or when he shot you with his paintball gun so hard you had a bruise on your knee for three weeks when you were 17– you think you’re starting to slowly outgrow this phase. 

Zhong Chenle is no longer a brotherly figure to you when you two pick up tennis at the ripe age of 18. 

It wasn’t either of your ideas, of course. Tennis is not a sport a teenager just suddenly picks up one day because they’re interested– at least not when you’re incredibly wealthy and can pretty much afford any other hobby in the entire world. No, it was the idea of Chenle’s mother– because, quoting, ‘the kids barely go out these days, they might as well pick up a sport!’ – and with the copycat tendencies of your dear mum, you were dragged along into it as well. And so now, during the finals season, on top of that, you two have to go play tennis on one of the private tennis courts your families rent for three hours a day every Friday afternoon instead of studying or focusing on getting your stress out of your body doing other, much more enjoyable things.

“You know, you look a little too excited for someone who hates playing tennis,” Renjun– the neighborhood kid (your parents being business partners for quite some time now made you and the short boy become friends somewhere along the way)– states, snickering as he lays on one of the benches on the side, his own tennis racket thrown carelessly on the ground as he watches the two of you running around the court, playing.

“I only do it because I’m bored,” Chenle mutters under his nose, sending the little yellow ball over the net with much force, making you run to the other side of the court. 

“And I only do it because I need to prove to him that he’s not the best at everything he tries,” you add, sending the ball back to your friend. 

“Just say you want to impress him and go,” Yizhuo– Chenle’s cousin from his mother’s side– teases you from the bench, sitting next to Renjun. Her remark doesn’t go unnoticed by you as you send the yellow ball her way after her cousin passes it towards your side of the court again, aiming precisely for her forehead but missing, earning yourself a terrified yelp out of the girl when she scootches closer to the boy next to her.

“That’s totally not what’s going on, but sure,” you roll your eyes at her when she throws the ball back, but you don’t feel interested in continuing the game anymore. Tiredly walking closer to the two sitting at the little shaded bench, wiping the sweat off your forehead, you try hard to not think of the snarky remark that was sent your way. 

Is it really that obvious? Because sure, you’ve always found Zhong Chenle to be your brother figure over the years of growing up– but there’s something about the humid air of the tennis court and his competitiveness that have you eyeing him when he takes a sip from his water bottle or when he adjusts the hairband sitting on his damp forehead. He wears shorts that reveal his calves very nicely, and when you play 2 on 2, you find yourself focusing less and less on the game– earning yourself a frustrated yell from Ning Yizhuo herself as she plays along your side– and more and more on the Gucci tennis shoes adorning his feet as you scan the boy up and down, his figure growing taller and taller each passing day captivating you in a sense you’ve never quite experienced before.

“I can’t believe my mum dragged you all into this shit,” Chenle giggles when he sits next to Renjun on the bench, following you to the shade. There’s only 20 minutes left in the time your parents rented the court for and you figure that you can spend that time recharging your energy instead of playing the boring game. 

“Not me,” Yizhuo says, “she made my mother feel bad about not signing me up for any sports. You know, your mum’s pretty persuasive, especially when it comes to looking good in front of everyone. If it wasn’t for my mum, I wouldn’t be doing this shit,” she complains, shrugging as she adjusts her ponytail that’s always sitting neatly on the crown of her head.

“I love the fact that Renjun here is the least athletic out of all of us, but he is the only one here willingly,” you snicker, earning yourself a chant of amused laughs at the spoken truth. Now, nobody forced Huang Renjun to come play tennis with you every Friday– but the fact that he doesn’t have many friends in the neighborhood was what made him come along, too bored on his own and with nothing to put his attention to. He doesn’t like playing much, but everything’s better than sitting alone at home, am I right?

The three of you gossip about everything and nothing– the new family in the neighborhood, especially, because Renjun saw their son last Sunday and found his outfit absolutely atrocious (“You’d think people with money would at least know how to dress well, but no. That’s not the case with that Wen Junhui guy.”). The time passes by quickly, and when the timer on Chenle’s phone goes off, signaling that the three mandatory hours at the tennis court are finally over, you all stand up and walk over to the gate, shoes dragging along the sandy surface of the ground with much tiredness. At least you’re getting some cardio in…

“Is your driver coming to pick you up?” Chenle asks as you pay goodbye to your friends, both of them getting into expensive cars waiting for them at the parking lot. Turning to him, you hum in agreement, suddenly shy under his gaze. It’s not even summer yet, but the May sun is already harsh on the skin, getting redness to spread along his cheeks, only further sculpting his handsome bone structure you’ve grown so familiar with over the years. 

“What about you?” 

“Told my mum I’ll walk home instead. It’s not like it’s only a 20 minute walk anyway,” he mutters, rolling his eyes at the irony of you having to drive home despite living only a few meters away from him, in the same wealthy neighborhood. You grew up together, in the same mowed lawns, in the same green labyrinths of your families’ villas, in the same high ceilings and golden accents on the interior of your houses. After watching him from the corner of your eye, you start to wonder about what changed between the two of you that made you so weak to him now, that you’re both 18. Did he change? Was it the fact that you were now both adults? You don’t think that’s the case– because even though you were 18, there were no more responsibilities waiting for you than they were the years before. 

“My driver can take you,” you say, kicking the rocks below your feet, “well, unless you want to walk home alone instead,” you add, noting his previous sentence.

You see him take a sip out of his water bottle, shrugging at your suggestion. Chenle’s not a fan of inefficiency, no matter the fact that you can afford anything you could ever want. It’s a quality of him you find quite strange some days, but you don’t ponder on it too much. 

You’ve known each other since you were in diapers. And after replaying all the memories you have with the boy in your head, you think that your 18 year old self isn’t so stupid for falling for him. See– you’ve got to know a lot of men over the course of your life. Many tried to get with you barely before you even grew into an adult, seeing the vision of money and the social status you could give them. Some, on the other hand, never gave you back the attention you were giving them. All relationships you had in your life were blinded by the imaginary price tag you always carried around with yourself, and so everything always stayed surface-level and plain. No wonder you fell for Chenle– no matter how long it took you to get to this part of your friendship– he’s the only one that ever showed you his true self, he’s the only one that ever trusted you enough to go deeper in conversations with you and treated you like a real human being. You know him well and he knows you well; he’s like a book you always find yourself rereading, excited to find that your favorite characters always stayed the same. At the end of the day, you think you were always meant to fall for Chenle.

Standing under the blazing sun, you wait for your driver to get to the tennis courts. You wait for 10 minutes, then 15– and when you get a little too overheated, Chenle offers you his water bottle and mumbles something about being on time. When the time passes 45 minutes after your driver’s supposed arrival, your friend turns to you with a glint in his eye, a grin sitting on his annoyingly handsome face.

“Wanna walk home with me instead?”

And the truth is, you don’t find yourself disagreeing. And you also don’t find yourself hating the walk up the hills of the neighborhood– no matter how tiring it was to your already exhausted limbs– and you don’t find yourself complaining about the lack of AC or the vehicle driving your ass home to your, admittedly, too big of a house. Chenle entertains you with his talks– because he always talks too much for his own good– and when you stop paying attention to him and lose track of where you’re going, he drags you back to the sidewalk by your hand and your fingers stay interlocked when he teases you about the fact that you almost got ran over by a white Cadillac. 

“Listen, there’s this song I think you’ll like,” he hums when you’re 5 minutes away from your house, pulling out his phone out of his back pocket and opening up the Spotify app. He plays you a song by Ariana Grande, singing along to the lyrics of the chorus. His voice goes thin when he tries to mimic the singer’s voice, dragging along the english sentences of ‘it feels so good to be this young and have this fun and be successful, i’m so successful!’, irony seeping from his tone. Your hands are still intertwined as he swings them back and forth and you don’t even really care about the subtle implication of the lyrics he’s singing– because it’s Chenle, and despite being just as wealthy as you, he’s no stranger to calling you a snob. 

When you’re 18 and walking back from your weekly tennis endeavors, you can’t help but feel the fluttering in your heart when your friend twirls you around in your driveway, your white tennis skirt childishly fulfilling your unsaid dreams of becoming a ballerina, before he walks to his house standing on the opposite side of the road. 

You don’t even care that your poor driver got fired by your mother right after she realized he forgot to pick you up from the tennis court as much.

October 17, 2020 – a charity evening, Shanghai, 9:11 PM

Your whole life so far has been guided in the aura of money. When you were little, you didn’t realize it as much– your young, undeveloped brain couldn’t phantom the fact that your annual trips to Italy and summer vacations at yachts and in the Paris DisneyLand weren’t a normal occurrence to everyone. You couldn’t understand the value of money, and you think that maybe, you never truly will. Because you were born fortunate, never having to worry about a single thing, always living in wealth and with gold around your neck. 

The closest you are to understanding just how much money your family truly has is at the charity evenings you are forced to attend. Walking around, mostly bored– because truly, you didn’t have much of an idea just how much money you’re sending to the unfortunate parts of Africa and what the whole thing even has to do with you, when the money wasn’t really yours in the first place– you try to at least look through the flier your family made for the event, reading through the carefully crafted sentences, feeling at least a little sorry for everyone that doesn’t get to live the way you do.

“Isn’t it funny how this is the only way our families can present themselves in a good light?” Chenle mumbles when he reads over your shoulder, a dry chuckle leaving his lips.

Turning around to look at your companion, you furrow your brows at his snarky comment. “What do you mean?”

“Well, we give to charity so people don’t hate us as much,” Chenle shrugs, taking a sip from the champagne poured in a tall glass you’re pretty sure your mother spent hours and hours picking out when renting this place, just so everything could be perfect. 

“It’s just jealousy,” you say as you walk side-by-side with the boy, the expensive fabric of his white button-down hugging his body in all the right places, leaving you light-headed when you let yourself indulge in your thoughts for too long and stare at the curves of his forearms. It’s been a few months since you slept with your childhood friend– and while you must admit that you regretted it a little when you woke up in the morning, with a hangover and sore limbs, you also didn’t regret it as much as to turn the offer down when it was next brought to you. And the next time, and the next… 

“You think?” Chenle asks, and his interest in your answer seems genuine.

“Yeah,” you nod, shrugging to yourself, “we have more money than any of them ever will, so it’s only natural for people to feel jealous and talk spiteful things about us.”

Chenle hums at your answer, licking his lips before he looks you dead in the eye, the smallest glint of irony shining from behind the dark orbs, making you shrink under his gaze. “It’s not like it’s hard work anyway,” Chenle mutters, “if it wasn’t all stolen money, at least the charity work wouldn’t feel as fake.”

You stop in your tracks at the comment, furrowing your brows. “Stolen money?”

The boy next to you snickers at your clueless eyes. It’s no wonder you never really cared about the source of your family’s wealth– you were born to it, so you never had a reason to doubt it. And truth be told, you never really complained either. You don’t think anyone in your place would, really. You just accepted it the way it is, and you never asked any questions. For all you know, your parents are hard working business owners– you bet their money is well deserved for the amount of effort they put in– so to hear that it’s stolen money, from someone who is in a similar position as you, on top of that, you can’t believe your ears.

“I mean, they’re business owners. Let’s not act like both yours and my parents don’t meddle with the taxes at least a bit, sweetheart,” he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief, “if I were all those people outside of it, I’d hate myself too.”

His words do little to comfort you. They do quite the opposite, really, and even though Zhong Chenle has no proof to show you of the fact that your parents might have at least a bit of dirty money on their hands, you can’t say you don’t trust a word that comes out of his mouth. You start to wonder if you’re that gullible– and who is the one lying straight to your eyes now, if it’s your friend or your parents– and you start to believe that you’d trust everything Chenle tells you, because that’s just the relationship you have with him. He could do anything and you’d follow him to the end of the world. It takes years to build that bond, and so even know, although you have the urge to scream at him for talking such things about the ones that brought you to this world– this perfect, shiny world– you find yourself holding back, the bubble around you bursting in a second, although you spent 19 years of your life living in the fake glory and bejeweled experience. Opening your mouth to ask him more about the matter– to get yourself out of the confusion you’ve been put in with just a few sentences uttered out of his always too-honest mouth, you turn to the boy when a man with a camera approaches the two of you, asking to take a picture of you.

And you comply, because what else are you supposed to do? This is how you’ve been raised. You smile for the pictures, you grin when you find yourself in the magazines, you nod when people recognise your name, you greet people with a polite nod, because you never know when someone wants to make business with your parents and you wouldn’t want to ruin good opportunities for them, would you?

With Chenle’s arm around your waist, your body instinctively leaning into his touch, you smile for yet another picture for the portfolio. Sometimes you feel like a princess– with everything it takes; both the royal responsibilities and the special treatment. More often than not, you find yourself enjoying the spotlight.

“Now they have proof that we were here,” Chenle mumbles into your ear, his lips gently brushing the smooth skin, “wanna get out of here? This party doesn’t look as enjoyable as the last one we went to,” the boy references the time you spent together at the cruise ship, with both the screaming on the dancefloor, and also the aftermath in your room, making heat puddle in your cheeks as you swat his hand away before it gets too low on your back in front of everyone in the room.

“I have to give a speech, but… maybe later?” you look at him, innocently batting your eyelashes at him, when the boy shrugs and takes a step back, downing the last drops of champagne from the expensive looking glass.

“I’ll be waiting back home,” Chenle says, “I bet our parents will stay until this all ends, so we have plenty of time for ourselves when you decide you’re tired of the gala.”

He disappears out of your sight the moment after, putting the empty glass onto a tray of one of the waiters carefully walking across the room, his back escaping out the front door. If you squint hard enough through the glass, you could see him getting into one of the sports cars he got from his parents for his 18th birthday– the vehicle driving off in the hands of his driver for the night, since he just had a glass of alcohol– and leaving you alone in the world of faux and feathers, fulfilling the responsibilities given to you by your mother. And for the first time– not only because you hate giving public speeches– you so desperately want to follow him, getting out before midnight like Cinderella, never attending another one of these evenings ever again. 

You don’t, though. You’re an obedient daughter.

And when you call him up from the entryway a few minutes after midnight, his rough hands welcoming you to his bedroom by undressing the thousand-dollar Tiffany dress you wore to the event– being the aftermath of his previous words or not, you start to think how ironic it is that your attire for the evening cost more than than the monthly rent of the people you were giving to in your speech. 

After a while, your words turn bitter.

March 23, 2020 – South Cape Owners Club, Namhae-gun, Gyeongsangnam-do, South Korea, 1:17 PM

“Did you really have to choose the most boring thing to do for your birthday?” Chenle mutters under his nose when all of your parents stride forward to get another hole in one, beads of sweat appearing on your foreheads as you stand directly under the midday sun. 

“This wasn’t my idea, okay?” Renjun huffs, carrying his golf equipment with him, the silly-looking golf gloves tugged right off his hands when his parents are no longer in sight. “All I wanted was to visit my grandma, but they decided we needed to do something special for my birthday, and when I couldn’t tell them anything I’d like to do, they dragged everyone to play golf.”

“I was thinking more like… clubbing and then crashing at your grandma’s place overnight, but okay…” Yizhuo snickers, watching as all of your parents joyfully talk between themselves, their conversation rarely leaving business matters as they play golf with as much enthusiasm as one can have while focusing on this boring sport. You don’t really know who made this game and why they made it– you can imagine seventy thousand different ways you’d love to spend your afternoon doing instead, more than a half of them supposedly more mundane than the sport itself; but you still know you’d enjoy even sitting down and getting ice cream better than having to pretend you’re interested in, what Chenle called, rich-people-only sport. 

“Maybe I can sneak a bottle up into my room later, but I’m not promising anything,” Renjun shrugs, sighing to himself as he takes out his phone from his back pocket and shakes his head at the sight of the time appearing on his screen. You’ve been at the golf course since 10 AM, and with how interested in the game your parents seem to be, you’re not leaving any time soon either.

Not really engaged in the conversation– because Chenle once told you you complain too much (you truly thought he was the one doing so, but you believe pretty much everything that comes out of the man’s mouth, because he’s mostly right about things) and you think you’ve done your fair share of complaining on your way to the golf course in the first place– you look around, trying to find a thing that could occupy your attention instead. Finding anything fun to do while playing golf may just be the hardest thing to do, but when you notice your companion Chenle missing and his figure appears striding towards your small group in a golf cart, the vehicle going full speed (even the barely 40 km/h looks like it could kill when he seems to not give a single damn about running you over), and suddenly, your mind is occupied enough.

Screeching when the golf cart barely misses your figure, you jump to the side and watch Chenle laugh from the driver’s seat. His malicious instincts barely ever leave his body and the operation of a golf cart is seemingly bringing out the worst in him– thank god he barely drives anymore– and you can’t help but laugh at his little stunt when the cart comes to a sharp halt and he waves you three over with a motion of his hand.

“Hop on, motherfuckers, we have places to be!” he says, all of you following his footsteps and jumping into the small vehicle– you in the passenger seat, next to Chenle, and Renjun and Yizhuo taking the two seats on the back. Once you’re all in, the engine grunts with the speed Chenle’s intending to get to in the weak thing, the atmosphere shifts into one with much more fun and adrenaline– because you know you’re not supposed to ride the carts (not this fast anyway) and when your parents find out, you’re gonna get in a lot of trouble. No, you’re not going to get grounded– you’re not a kid anymore– but the silent treatment and nagging from them about being well-raised and respectable members of society is enough to leave you scared of their anger for the rest of your lives.

“Slow down, I’m gonna fall out!” you scream when Chenle takes a sharp turn, the golf cart almost toppling over on the green grass. 

“I got you, don’t worry,” he notes, one of his hands loosely falling to your thigh to keep you in place, your skin heating up even more from his touch now, enjoying the hold but also fearing the eyes of your friends from the backseat. Your earlier terror is quickly erased with another sharp turn the driver takes– having much more things to worry about now, surviving being one of them– and when he zooms past the group of middle-aged people standing a few meters ahead of you, you already know you’re in big trouble.

Now you’re gonna get scolded for abducting a golf cart. When it wasn’t even your idea in the first place.

Well, that’s something to worry about later.

Chenle drives with the cart all over the golf course, the vehicle providing you enough entertainment for the next few minutes until you get tired of the ride. Looking over at him on your side, gaping a little at the view of your childhood friend driving the cart with only one hand, the other one still securely glazing your thigh, you almost choke out with how attractive the strange sight is to your eyes. Forcing yourself to focus on the road– and thank god, because if you didn’t hold to the side of the cart now, you’d surely fall out despite Chenle’s reassuring words and his hold on your leg– when the man cuts through a small hill in the golf course, the vehicle jumping up and falling back down making you scream in terror mixed with just a bit of excitement.

“Fucking hell, at least warn us before!” Renjun screams from the back, followed by Yizhuo’s amused laughter. You can only imagine Renjun’s almost fallen out, and even though the mental image looks hilarious, you really don’t need him to get hurt today, because he wouldn’t shut up about it for the next 8 working days. And it’s his birthday, after all– you wouldn’t wanna ruin it by having too much fun.

And so, with a last giggle escaping the boy’s throat, Chenle brings the golf cart to a halt, the vehicle stopping far enough from your parents to not get scolded immediately for making so much ruckus at the golf cart, the four of you enjoying the silence, still recovering from the wild ride. Smiling fondly to yourself and gaping at the boy next to you again, you suddenly grow appreciative of him. If it wasn’t for his wild nature, you would still be sulking somewhere on the golf course, pretending to enjoy living your snobby life alongside your parents. You bet even Renjun himself will find this moment captured in his brain as a core birthday memory, and the more you stare at Chenle’s side profile, the more you want to hold his face in your hands and thank him.

“Ew,” you hear Yizhuo’s voice from behind you, bringing you out of your thoughts. Looking back to see what she’s referring to, you watch her gaze landing on Chenle’s hand playing with the flesh on your thigh, heat suddenly rising to your cheeks in being caught in the exact position you feared a little while ago. 

“What–” Chenle snaps his head back at his cousin, while you quickly shrug his palm off your skin, but it’s too late now– you’ve been caught in the act and now you can’t do anything to erase Ning Yizhuo’s memory.

“You know, I thought you two were cousins at first. Like, from your dad’s side, I mean,” Yizhuo sighs, shaking her head in disbelief at the two of you, her comment not doing much to ease the situation either. Chenle seems to be confused at her words, his face scrunching up as he glares at the girl.

“We’re not,” you note, clearing your throat and looking at her with a glare, mentally praying for her to drop the topic.

“Yeah, thank god,” Chenle adds, and you should’ve expected him to make the situation even worse– it’s Zhong Chenle, after all– but his next words shock you and leave you gasping, mentally killing him right here and in this moment, “that would make a lot of things weird.”

“Ew,” Yizhuo repeats, and suddenly, that perks up Renjun’s attention– the boy previously facing the other side of the golf course and not paying you three much care– as he looks around and watches you with confusion in his features.

“What are you talking about?”

“That they are–” the girl takes it upon herself to explain her findings, but she’s quickly cut off by a sound of a middle-aged woman screaming through the place, her small figure striding towards the golf cart.

“Zhong Chenle, what do you think you’re doing?!”

And with that scolding tone, the previous topic is dropped. Thank god.

June 12, 2020 – Zhong Chenle’s room, Shanghai, 11:21 PM

A hand stroking through his hair, smoothing back the bangs and revealing his forehead in the dim blue of the neon light in his room, you lay on your side next to your friend Chenle, a blanket carelessly thrown over your half-naked middles to shield you from the breeze. You hum a song under your breath as you play with his locks, the black disappearing between your fingers like sand, eyes carefully watching his tired expression. 

If you thought hard enough, you could see the little boy you first met at your parent’s conference room when you were 3 materialize in front of your eyes. His cheeks were chubby and he was short, waddling behind you almost a head less than your size, and his voice was thin as he asked you for your name. From that moment on, you knew you were supposed to stick together– and while your parents were the first relative to bring you two together, you didn’t mind always being glued to each other’s hips. 

When you look closer at him now, it’s hard to see that boy in him. Harder than you expected, if you’re being totally honest. Don’t get me wrong, you can still see in his features– even though his cheekbones are more prominent now and his jaw is more chiseled, lips plumper and his figure built more firmly than when he was a little boy– but there’s something about his demeanor that completely changed over time. He seems less enthusiastic, and while one would think that it’s just him growing into being a more laid-back and relaxed person– he’s not a kid anymore, after all– you think there’s something more to it, you just can’t quite put your finger to it. 

Seeing him close his eyes every once in a while, lids falling under the weight of his tiredness and the comfort your gentle strokes through his scalp give him, you feel your heart clench with all the care you’re currently putting into the boy, and all that you’ve been putting into him throughout your growing up. After so many years– after getting so close and intimate with him– you don’t think you’d be able to let the boy go, and just the sheer image of ever losing him or leaving him behind leaves you trembling with anxiety. 

And so, despite being afraid of ruining the calm atmosphere that comes after making love to him, you speak up with a weak voice, contrasting to what you’re logically supposed to feel after getting to know the news this morning– just because you have to know. 

“Lele?” you mumble, hearing him let out a hum, his voice sounding as if he’s half-asleep, but you know he’s listening to you. “What are your plans… after you graduate?” you ask. The day of graduation is coming faster and faster towards you, the years you’ve spent at high school finally fulfilled after all the effort you put in on your finals.

“Dunno,” he replies, eyes barely opened as his arm that’s been previously laid on the mattress in between your two bodies moves to your hip, fingers drumming over the soft skin, “why?”

“Just wondering…” you speak, voice barely louder than a whisper. The boy stays silent– his eyes once again closing on themselves as you continue to play with his hair. One would think he’s fallen asleep, not awake enough to have this conversation, and you would even believe the fact and let the conversation go, thinking you’d find another time to dwell on this topic, but then, as a surprise, his voice startles you from your deep thoughts when he curiously inquires you, the hand on your hip steadying.

“What about you?”

Taking a deep breath in and out, a smile battling to take over your lips, you lick your lips in the heartbeat that comes before your answer. Swallowing your nerves– because even though you should’ve told him the moment you got the news this morning, you’re somehow stressed out about the action of doing so– you open your mouth and finally break the rules to him. 

“I… I got to Yale,” you say, on your toes. The joy and relief you felt this morning when you saw the email appear on your phone screen is daring to creep into the way you speak to Chenle right now, but you’re keeping it in. Not letting yourself scream and shout the accomplishment from the rooftops, you look at the boy, not a change appearing on his face at hearing your announcement. “I got into their business program,” you add anxiously, waiting for him to say something– anything– to your news.

As your friend, he’s supposed to be happy for you, isn’t he? He’s supposed to hug you now and squeeze you and tell you how you’ve done a good job and that he’s proud of you and that he’s cheering you on in your dream. None of it comes, though, as he only hums and nods at your sentences, not even bothering to open his eyes to look at you when you oh so excitedly talk to him about your life goals. 

Something inside of you breaks just the tiniest bit, your mood falling as you anxiously chew on the inside of your cheek.

“Are you not gonna say anything?” you demand, halting your movements through his raven locks, averting your touch and looking at him curiously.

You watch him as he finally opens his eyes and looks at you with an empty look, licking his lips before humming again and asking you in a tone of voice that barely meets interest or excitement. “So you’re gonna be a businesswomen like your mum when you get your degree?” he asks, nodding to himself.

“Yeah,” you answer, clearing your throat. You’re a little confused at his weird stance towards the topic, but you battle out a tight-lipped smile. “I’m hoping for it.”

He hums again, the noise seemingly enough for him to consider it a valid conversation holder, a deadpan: “Good,” leaving his lips after a second, making you furrow your brows in confusion and utter disappointment. This is not the way you imagined the conversation to go– this is not how you wanted it to go at all.

Heaving out a sigh, you tug your arm to yourself, contemplating on speaking up– knowing you’re just gonna make everything worse if you do– but doing so anyway. “That’s all you’re gonna say?”

“I mean, what else is there to say?” 

Looking at him in disbelief, your face scrunching up in various different emotions, all mixing into one– disappointment being the dominant feel, you think, you scoff at him. This is not Zhong Chenle as you know him, and sure, he hasn’t been the most overly-excited, cheerful individual these past few months, but you still think you deserve at least a bit of praise for the achievement of getting into one of the hardest universities to get to in the world, no?

“I don’t know, you could… congratulate me, I guess…? Tell me I did a good job, I dunno… would be nice,” you mutter, snickering once more to prove your irritation with the man.

“Oh,” he says, looking genuinely surprised, taken-aback, even, “well, congrats on the legacy admission, I guess,” he says, nonchalant, as if his words aren’t a dagger to your heart each second that passes, your blood pressure rising as the reality downs on you that he’s being serious and that this is not a sick joke.

“The legacy admission?” you repeat, eyes big and shocked, your whole body moving an inch away from him on the bed without you realizing.

“Yeah,” he shrugs, not a bit caring about breaking you from the inside, the humiliation slowly creeping from the tips of your fingertips to the depths of your soul.

“So you’re saying I went through the whole admission process and put in so much effort only for you to say that I got in because of stupid legacy?” you chirp, gazing at him with sharp eyes, blood boiling from the impact of his words. “What legacy are you even talking about?”

“Don’t act like you’re not a nepo baby,” he snickers, rolling his eyes.

Gasping at his words, baffled at the unexpected reaction, you stand up on the bed and stare at him with sharp eyes. At a loss for words, you stutter a little when you speak up again and utter out the next words, hoping to hit him where it hurts. “Like you’re not?”

“Never said I’m not,” he shrugs, “don’t have a problem with admitting I am.”

“So you’re saying I only got to university because of my parents,” you get out, glossy eyes scanning his peaceful figure, “so you’re saying I’m not smart enough to get into Yale?” 

“That’s not what I said–”

“But you implied.”

“You only hear what you want to hear,” Chenle sighs, as if he was tired of your antics, which only makes you more furious at the whole interaction.

“No, Chenle–” you stutter, his name rolling off your tongue as if it was meant to stop him with hurting you even more for discrediting your efforts, yet, you can’t find any more words to say to him as you stare at this limb body laying on the soft mattress of his king sized bed, shaking your head in disbelief.

Standing up from the bed and scattering around the room for your clothes, ignoring the way putting them on in front of him makes you feel like you’ve been stripped away from all your dignity, you hurriedly come to the door of his bedroom, almost forgetting your phone that you gather on your way out from the messy desk in the right corner of the room. 

“Where are you going?” he asks monotonously, watching you move through the place.

“Home,” you bark out, running your hand through your hair as you walk back to the door, ignoring the hot tears pricking your eyes at the feeling of your whole entire world collapsing in on you when he mourns from the bed.

“Don’t be mad, it’s not like I said anything bad…”

“Goodnight,” you snap, not bothering to look back at him as you escape his house in the middle of the night, running through the street to your house much earlier than you anticipated, wiping at your cheeks with angry palms. 

This is the first time he disappointed you, and you can’t tell if that felt worse, or if it was the excitement slowly and painfully stripping off your bones, making you feel like you’re running around without your flesh, completely see-through for everyone around.

June 27, 2020 – IFC Mall, Shanghai, 4:33 PM

“Do you think this makes my ass look extra hot?” Yizhuo asks, gaze shifting from you to Chenle to Renjun, the four of you currently in one of the designer shops at the mall. Leaning on the wall, arms crossed on your chest and chewing on the inside of your cheek, you shrug, not a word escaping your mouth.

“I’m your cousin, I’m not looking at your ass like that,” Chenle mutters under his nose, sighing as he takes a seat on one of the expensive looking sofas situated in the changing room, resting his head against the neck rest and closing his eyes in what seems to be tiredness or annoyance– either of, or both mixed in, equal parts.

“Oh come on, I need to know!”

“It does look super hot, Yizhuo, now can you–”

“So you are staring at my butt!” Yizhuo excitedly yelps, pointing a sharp finger towards Renjun, a bright grin settling onto her lips when the accused boy stutters, cheeks reddening at her comment.

“You literally asked us to, for fuck’s sake!”

“You could’ve refused, just like Chenle did,” she shrugs, smiling to herself in victory. If anyone was listening to your conversation right now, they would surely have a lot of questions you wouldn’t be able to respond to. Hell, even you’re confused half of the time you hang out with Ning Yizhuo– what the hell is going on in her head?

“He’s your family, of course he refused,” Renjun mutters, shaking his head as he drags a hand through his hair in despair.

“Whatever you say, Renjunie,” she chirps, closing the curtain behind her and changing back into the pants she wore when she got to the store in one swift motion, leaving the boy puzzled with her next words as she walks up to the counter, “I’m only buying those because you think I look super hot in them, just so you know.”

Paying for her things and escaping the store, the rest of you tagging along, you notice the boy aimlessly trying to forget about the whole situation, and his prayers were listened to, after all, since Yizhuo seems to drop the topic after teasing him so much, turning to you instead. Walking alongside with you, leaving the two boys a few steps ahead, she nudges you with her elbow, raising up her brow in question.

“What’s up with you? You haven’t even tried anything on,” she notes, “and we both know you’ve been eyeing that new LV collection, so there must be something bothering you.”

Sighing, hating that the girl knows you so well– that, or you’re being awfully obvious– you roll your eyes in annoyance and try to shrug the topic off. “It’s nothing, I’m fine.”

“Well, that’s obviously a lie. Is it something with Chenle? You two are usually all over each other, so–”

“It’s not about Chenle,” you snap, cutting the poor girl off, “so drop it.”

“Did he say something stupid? I know my cousin, come on. I can slap some sense into him, sweetheart, just let me know–”

“Please let it be,” you insist, tone of voice almost a little too sharp for your own liking, but it seemingly does its job as your friend only shrugs and takes a sip out of the coffee you all bought when getting to the mall, catching up to the men a few steps in front of you, talking about basketball.

“Well, if you need to talk to anyone about it, you know where to find me,” she says, and joins the discourse with her cousin and the boy she’s been teasing for whatever reason for the last few weeks instead, leaving you to trail behind them like a lost puppy, deep in your thoughts.

It’s been a few weeks since you last talked to Chenle. He tried reaching out to you a few times, sending you texts to ask what you’re doing that day to see if you wanna hang out. It seemed that at first, he didn’t really understand that he upset you. After you continued to ignore him even on graduation day, only greeting him and sparing him a few words, he seemed to get the memo as he let you deal with your emotions by yourself instead. You were never given an apology– and truthfully, knowing Chenle, you didn’t even expect to get one in the first place. But still, it’s been bugging you and you couldn’t get his words out of your brain, because you know you can’t do anything about them– if this is the image he has of you, the opinion he created, you don’t think you can talk it out with him in the first place.

“Everything okay back there?” Chenle asks, looking behind at you. His eyes are big and honest, and you find yourself nodding to his caring question. Sparing him a word seems like too much effort right now, and so when he offers you a tight-lipped smile, you don’t have enough energy to reciprocate it.

“Princess Yizhuo here has sore feet, so we are calling it a day. You wanted anything from the mall? I can stay behind with you and go get it,” he continues, his words jabbing into you only reminding you more of the days you spent ignoring him. Realistically, he should be mad at you for it– maybe you even wanted that to happen so he would ignore you instead, giving you the silent treatment, but this is your childhood friend Zhong Chenle we’re talking about. He talks too much in situations where he should shut up instead, and that’s exactly what’s happening in this very moment as well.

“I’m good,” you note, shrugging as you throw the empty coffee cup into one of the bins on your way, your small group now escaping the mall and getting to the parking lot.

Walking towards Chenle’s Zenvo TS1 parked in the corner of the parking lot, you hear the chatter of the group resonating in your ears, not really engaging in the conversation yourself, but choosing to listen to feel included anyway. It’s not their fault that you’re not in the mood, and frankly, you’re glad they even invited you to the outing in the first place. Everything’s better than being left out in your books, even if it means forcing yourself into social interaction. 

“My driver should be here any minute,” Yizhuo smiles, waving at Renjun currently getting into his Porsche Cayenne that he got after you all arrived from his birthday trip to Korea. Watching the boy drive off– while listening to Chenle bitching about his driving (he does have a point though, the poor boy almost crashed into a pole on his way out) – you feel a nudge to your elbow, making you turn to your friend.

“Wanna get back with me, neighbor?” he asks, eyebrows raised in question. 

In any other circumstance, you wouldn’t miss a heartbeat before answering. But now, you ponder on the question for a bit– you got to the mall with Yizhuo, having hanged out with her at her place before– but now that she’s getting a drive home, there was no use in you tagging along with her, since you live quite far from her house. Getting a drive home from Chenle is the most logical solution, after all, and that’s why you find yourself nodding.

Jumping to the passenger’s seat, waving at Yizhuo still waiting for her driver to get there– it should take only about 5 more minutes, with the speed her driver can get to when called– you silently gaze out of the window on your way back, not sparing the boy next to you a glance. He seems to not mind, carefully taking turns and waiting at the stop signs and red lights on his way to your neighborhood, humming along under his breath to the songs on the radio instead to fill the silence. You spend the ride chewing on your cheek, nerves eating you up from inside just at the sheer fact of being in his close proximity again, yet still being so painfully hurt at the feelings he expressed the last time you hung out one-on-one.

His car smoothly gets to the parts of the town that feel more rich– houses growing bigger in size, the gates taller in the sky and the lawns mowed more carefully, with more fancy bushes in the yards and pure-blood dogs running around in front of the gates. After a few minutes, your neighborhood appears in front of your eyes, his car driving past your house and into the Zhong property instead, making you furrow your brows in confusion and annoyance.

“You could’ve just stopped in front of my house so I could get out, you know,” you hum, sighing when he turns the engine off. 

“I was thinking we could hang out over at ours for a sec,” he shrugs, turning his face to you with a hopeful glint in his eye, which you dismiss with an annoyed huff and a roll of your eyes, reaching towards the door handle to get out and walk over to your house instead. 

“Come on, Y/N,” he calls for you, “are you still mad?”

“No,” you snicker, shrugging as you move towards the front gates, his figure quickly catching up to you as he grabs your wrist, halting you in your movements.

“I’m sorry. Let me make it out to you?” he mumbles, looking at you with eyes big and deep like honey, and suddenly, you’re a putty under his touch– just like always, you cave in– as you sigh, following him inside. You don’t miss the victorious pep in his step as he leads you inside, his hand still in contact with your arm, only letting go when you get to his room and he leads you to sit on his bed.

“Wanna play something?” he asks, thrusting a PS5 controller into your hands, not really leaving you much room for disapproval. Grunting and rolling your eyes at him, you watch as he opens up It takes two, your characters running around the split screen trying to figure out the way around.

The silence between the two of you is cruciating, suffocating, even, as neither of you have enough courage to open up the topic again. Tugging at your bottom lip, biting off the dry skin up to the point it bleeds, you sigh and turn to the boy again, putting the controller down. “Is this your way of making it up to me?” you ask.

Cocking his head to you, he shrugs. “I mean, I had a different idea, but that’s up for a discussion…” he mutters, the suggestion of his words making you roll your eyes at him, in disbelief of the fact that he still has the audacity to tease when he knows you’re clearly upset with him.

“Okay, I’m… really sorry, okay?” he says when he registers your mood, sighing to himself and running a hand through his hair. “I kinda fucked up, and I realise that. I didn’t mean to imply that you’re stupid, or anything– come on, I always cheated off you on exams, after all– so, I just- it came off wrong, is what I’m tryna say,” he concludes, looking at you hopefully, his face seemingly in tune with the words coming out of his mouth.

Humming, you shrug, not really knowing what to say. The apology settles a little in you, noting that at least he acknowledged that he fucked up, and so you pick up the controller again and avert your gaze from him. Seeing as his character refuses to move, you look at him from the corner of your eye, raising your brows in question.

“So you forgive me?” he asks, licking his lips in nerves– the action making your eyes travel down to the plump rosiness, involuntarily following his action. His glistening mouth has your gaze wandering around his body, eyes focusing on things you’ve been purposefully ignoring the whole day– the way his forearms show off in his short-sleeved shirt, the way his hair is parted in a way that shows his forehead in the most strangely attractive ways, and also the ever-so casual demeanor of the male. Chuckling to yourself, you shrug, taunting him.

“I dunno,” you mumble, “how can you make it up to me?”

And again, Chenle gets the hint– he’s not stupid, after all. 

Slowly lounging himself towards you, making you drop the controller to his sheets, you close your eyes in expectancy of his touch, already so used to the rhythm of his lips against yours. His hand holds your jaw in place, firm kisses pressed to your yearning mouth, you try to remember the way his touch feels– just in case you have to give it up soon again– a selfish action of your body as you thread your fingers through his hair. 

Lips ghosting over yours, he snickers against them as he speaks. “You taste of blood,” he notes.

“Shut up,” you mutter, taking matters into your own hands as you lock yourself to him again, pressing shaky, hurried kisses to his lips. 

He finds a better place to attach them to, though, as he gently pushes you towards his mattress into a lying position, traveling towards your jaw and your neck. His touch never stays long enough to leave a mark– at least not in places visible for everyone to see, saving you a lot of explaining to your parents and your friends– but the kisses still leave you breathless and yearning for more, hands traveling down his back and humming in pleasure.

“Missed this,” he speaks against your skin, breathless, “so much.”

“Missed my body or me?” you ask, a hint of bitterness on your tongue.

“A bit of both,” he smirks, gently sucking on the skin of your collarbone, leaving you to squirm under the feathery touch. Hands traveling up under your shirt, his fingers trailing across your belly and the curve of your hip, you’re left shivering under the contrast of the heated atmosphere and his stone-cold hands, giggling when he presses an unusually sweet kiss to your cheek in between the more risky ones.

“And which one did you miss more?” you tease, locking eyes with him as he hovers over your body, plopped up by an arm on either side of your head.

His eyes glimmer as he stares you down, cocking his head to the side. “I miss when you didn’t talk,” he says, leaning down again and taking your breath away with a kiss, a displeased grunt meeting his lips as you disapprove of his snarky comment.

In the sheer second where you two break away for air, his hands undress your top, leaving you under him just in your underwear, a position you two have found yourselves in a number of times before. Still, it leaves you shy away under his hungry eyes, only relaxing again when his raven locks tickle the underside of your jaw, lips attaching to every inch of your now exposed body, not afraid of bruising the skin you always keep covered, out of everyone’s eyes. Sometimes, you yearn for him to plant a lovebite to your jaw, to the juncture of your shoulder and your neck, wanting to show them off to everyone and claim the boy as yours– you know you don’t have that power, though, when Zhong Chenle will never be yours and the bruises of desire are always hidden away from everyone, like a dirty little secret; much like what you two have going on in the first place anyway.

“You know,” he mutters against your skin, in between the kisses that have now grown lazier, “I was starting to get a little crazy when you ignored me. That was a first,” he says.

Snickering, hands once again finding their place in his locks, you shrug. “Was the first time you deserved it.”

“Does my opinion really matter to you that much?” he asks, chuckling as he presses another kiss to your skin, to a place a few inches below your collarbone.

“We’ve been friends forever,” you say, “‘course it does.”

“Well, then you should’ve known that as your friend,” he huffs, lips pressed against your skin, “‘m not looking down on you.”

Humming, you let him work his magic as his lazy kisses inch closer to the fabric of your bra, his other hand playing with the fabric of it, twirling the little bow in between your breasts in his fingers as he leans on one of his plopped-up hands, looking at you from the side. 

“Guess I was just more curious about what you wanted to do after school, y’know,” you say, the conversation flowing despite his hands all over you, “before you called me a nepo baby, of course.”

He chuckles at your remark, rolling his eyes at you as his finger trails up your side, your skin growing goosebumps under his touch. “Dunno yet. Why do you care?”

“Wanted to see how far we’re gonna be,” you say, the moment suddenly growing more intimate. The relationship you two have was never inclusive– you two had sex sometimes, sure, but you never once told each other this was more than that. You two were just mere fuck buddies, childhood friends that found sexual attraction in each other somewhere along the way, and while that was enough for you for a while, you found yourself growing anxious of the fact that he was never going to be fully yours. And with the growing anxiety– the smallest remainder of your worries that overtake you in the middle of the night sometimes– your throat closes up on itself when you choke out the next words. “Wanted to see how much time we have left together.”

His hand settles on your hip, his eyes bearing into yours with a newly found heaviness in them. Furrowing his brows, he licks his lips in nerves before speaking up. “Well, I’ll always be your neighbor, so you can find me when you come back. Unless we move, y’know…” he jokes, an airy laugh coming out his lungs that doesn’t meet the expected intention of easing the situation.

You chuckle– but there’s not a hint of lightheartedness in the gesture, quite the opposite, really– as you avert your gaze from him, your head lollying to the side when you try to hide your slowly, but surely growing red eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”

The hand on your hip squeezes the skin under it, his figure now fully hovering over you again, eyes desperately wanting to meet yours. A finger gently pressed to your chin makes you turn your head back forward, his worried gaze bearing into you, and for a moment, you two only stare into each other’s eyes, frozen in time. 

And again, Zhong Chenle isn’t stupid. 

But for a second, he acts like he is. 

“What are you talking about?” he chuckles. “You’re scaring me.”

And when you don’t give him an answer, but instead chew on the inside of your cheek– another place to bleed after you bite down too hard from the nerves crushing you from the inside– he seems to finally get the hint, an airy laugh full of disbelief meeting your ears. Having figured it out, still, he speaks it into existence– as if he needed a confirmation; 8 words tormentingly escaping from between his swollen lips.

“You don’t have feelings for me, do you?”

Sniffling, you shut your eyes close at the question, your silence a clear answer to your childhood friend as he peels himself off you, the feeling of cold air on your exposed skin like a painful slap to reality. You stay like that for some time, mentally counting seconds, each hammer of your heart in your chest like a threat to your existence. Finally, the silence is broken by a determined, yet a little weak sentence coming out of Chenle’s mouth.

“I think you have to leave.” 

Numb, you follow the orders.

July 25, 2020 – Ning Yizhuo’s room, Shanghai, 6:11 PM

“So I was right all along?” Yizhuo snickers, eating from the bowl of almonds she has settled in the free space between her lap and her crossed legs, staring at you with the hydrating sheet mask on her face. You heave out a sigh at her comment, rolling your eyes as you fall back into her soft mattress, shaking your head in disbelief.

“That’s all you got from this conversation?” 

“Almost,” she mumbles, but nudges you with her foot right after, “I’m joking. I was listening, I’m just… shocked that I was actually right and that you were fucking my cousin all along.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not happening anymore, so you don’t have to be disturbed,” you grunt, wondering why you actually told the girl in the first place, regretting the decision perhaps the most right now. Yes, she did bug you for the last few weeks about the reasoning behind your attitude, and the fact that you refused all the invitations to hang out with your friends in fear of seeing Chenle were starting to get a bit suspicious, so you figured you can’t hide it anymore and that Yizhuo was bound to find out either way sooner or later. And still, you think you needed a bit of girl advice too.

“‘m not disturbed,” she mumbles, voice suddenly considerate, “I just- the whole situation is all kinds of weird and fucked up right now.”

“Tell me about it,” you chuckle, the bitter taste on your tongue never leaving despite trying to drown your sorrow down in sweets. “I fucked it up, Yizhuo.”

“Now, that’s just not true,” she sighs, putting the bowl of almonds to her coffee table and laying next to you, reaching for your hand and swinging it around in failed acts of encouragement and affection. “It’s not your fault he freaked out and made it weird.”

“I made it weird!” you mourn, breaking away from her grasp and dragging your hands through your hair in frustration, the feelings bundling in your stomach making you feel like acid is just bound to shoot out of the crevices of your insides, throwing up from the stress and despair. “I’m moving across the world the next month and I won’t see any of you for a long time, since Jun is moving to Korea and you’re gonna work in your parent’s company as well as going to uni here, and instead of spending the last moments of summer break together, I fucked it up and made everything weird and awkward just because I had to fall in love with my childhood best friend. While we’d been fucking. Isn’t that fucking great?” you huff, closing your eyes shut with the tears threatening to fall down your cheeks at your own words falling from between your lips.

“We are spending time together right now, though,” Yizhuo tries to cheer you up, her pout heard in her tone.

“There are millions of different ways you’d love to spend your time with me instead of moping because of your cousin,” you note, sighing, “and I don’t even fucking know what he’s gonna do after summer break, and now, I won’t get to know.”

Yizhuo grows quiet next to you, suggesting the thickening atmosphere. Turning on your side to see your friend with her eyes glued to your figure, you chew on the inside of your cheek. She sighs, preparing herself for the mental tangent she’s gonna bring you on, and reaches over to smooth down your messy hair. 

“You know, Chenle never really liked… this life,” she says, shrugging, “he hates shopping, he hates hearing about investing, he hated traveling so much when you and your family didn’t tag along… At every family reunion, he just hid away in his room and never got out, because he found the whole situation snobby and fake and all those adjectives I’ve never really thought about calling my own relatives. He… he…” she licks her lips, trying to come up with the right words to say, “he sees the world around us with different eyes, and I don’t think he’s happy with it. So don’t- don’t be mad at him for not really… going anywhere with it, okay?” 

Furrowing your brows at her, you shake your head in confusion. This is perhaps the first time you really realized Chenle’s view on things– it’s not like you haven’t heard his annoyed rants about all the prestige and over-the-top lifestyle you all have, but that’s all you thought it was. Annoyance– because at the end of the day, your life is comfortable. You wouldn’t want it any other way. If money moves the world around, you were the one walking through every hallway, all opportunities opened up in front of your eyes; and you don’t think you’d enjoy your life more if you had a bit less money. Chenle, on the other hand, seems to be quite the opposite. His joy is not determined by money, and for the first time in your life, it seems like you’re getting what he’s been talking about your whole life, the words you heard but never truly listened to. It was right in front of you the whole time, but you never saw it, and now that your eyes have been opened, you find it hard to deal with the revelation.

“But what is he going to do?” you gurgle out, confused. 

“I don’t think he knows either,” Yizhuo shrugs, “he’s… figuring out things, I suppose.”

Chuckling, you shut your eyes in despair, thinking for a bit, but still failing to grasp the situation. “I don’t get it. He- he could have everything, but he’s just… throwing everything away? He could move across the world, he could start his own company, he could buy a house or work or study, but he just won’t,” you ramble, “I don’t get it.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” Yizhuo shrugs, “but he sees it a different way.”

Laying flat on your back, eyes glued to the ceiling, your friend clears her throat and awkwardly shuffles around her sheets. “And at the end of the day, even though you’ve been friends for forever, I think you’re just in love with the version of him that you’ve created in your head. The version that you’re trying, but cannot fix,” she notes, pausing for a moment before proceeding,  “the only person you can fix is yourself.”

And maybe, Yizhuo’s right. Maybe you fell in love with the Chenle in his sports car, Chenle in the golf cart with his designer clothes on, Chenle on the cruise ship sipping on expensive alcohol. Maybe you fell in love with the version that has the whole world in the palm of his hand, the version of him that goes to Yale with you and rents out a luxurious apartment in the middle of the city, kissing you behind the tall windows, watching over the busy streets– the version in your dreams, the version you wanted to achieve.

But what about the version of him that walked you to your house after tennis class? What about the version of him that cuddled you in his sheets, the version of him that fell asleep soundly when you played with his hair, cradled your fingers through his scalp? What about the version of him that scared you in the dark, because he knew you get creeped out too easily, the version of him that ate cheap sausage with you in Japan, the version of him that studied with you and brought you to your bed when you fell asleep at the table? What about the version of him that cried to Disney movies with you, the version of him that danced with you to the tunes of One Direction in your room when you were sixteen, the version of him that threw rocks on your window in the moonlight the night you turned seventeen, wanting to be the first one to wish you happy birthday before slipping inside of your room in the middle of the night, only to fall asleep seconds later, huddling your sheets?

Did you make that up? Was that not him in the first place?

And maybe, there is a discrepancy between the dream you’ve made up in your head with him, the idea of you two staying together, trying to fix the view he has on the world you two live in, but at the end of the day, none of it was a lie. 

And maybe, Yizhuo’s right; you should change the way you view things to match Chenle’s better, because at the end of the day, maybe you’re the one too blinded by the gold and silver around your neck to see the real issue here.

August 2, 2020 – Lehai Villas, Baicheng, China, 10:15 PM

When you finally see Zhong Chenle after the night he kicked you out of his bedroom, both of you are a mess. 

You’re a mess in the more subtle sense. Your dress is neat, the jewelry on your neck was carefully picked out days before, the heels enveloping your feet are one of the most comfortable ones for you to walk in, since you prepared yourself for being on your feet the whole evening. Your makeup is fixed on your face, earrings dangling off your ears and your purse matches the outfit perfectly; your hair in a fancy updo that you even drove to a hairdresser for, all so that you could look flawless for another one of your parent’s gatherings. Their business partner’s son is turning 21, and while it doesn’t look like that big of a deal, they are celebrating the fact that Mark Lee is now one of the shareholders of their company– and in your world, this is the most moving moment of the child’s life.

You’re a mess in the more subtle sense– you keep looking around, restless, not really paying attention to anything anyone is saying. Aimlessly humming and picking at the skin of your cuticles, you try hard to both catch a glance of your friend, and to also avoid him at all costs. The reality that Zhong Chenle is a mess too hits you only when you finally see him– his tie loose on his neck, a grunt escaping his throat that you can hear from all the way to where you are, his walking a little wobbly and his hair messy as he runs his hand through the sprayed-down locks, his composure disheveled and so obviously out of the place.

And you want to stay away, you really do– to let him deal with his own things by himself, to pretend you weren’t cautiously looking for him all evening– but when he picks up another glass of alcohol from one of the tables and downs it in one go, cheeks getting rosier by the minute, you wonder how far you can let him go until he gets into trouble with his parents; and suddenly, you’re on your feet, just like you expected, dragging your figure closer to the one you’ve been trying to avoid.

“Don’t you think you’ve drunk enough?” you mumble when you appear behind him, his shoulders slouching at the tone of your voice. When he looks around and catches your eyes, he snickers to himself, shrugging, before he makes a face full of disgust at your remark.

“We’re celebrating, aren’t we?” he says, “Mark Lee’s a big man now, taking all the responsibility for a company that’s so great, and he loves the job so much,” he continues, over-exaggerating every word, “and we’re here to celebrate his birthday! Have you… seen the motherfucker anywhere, by the way? Would wanna congratulate him on… the thing…” he trails off, dramatically scratching his head as he speaks the last words.

“Chenle–”

“Right! We are celebrating a guy we don’t even know, or seen the whole evening, but that’s so great, because at least we have all this alcohol–”

“Okay, you’re getting out of here,” you snap, shaking your head at his antics and digging your nails into his forearm, dragging the boy out of the crowded place before he throws a tantrum. With how his voice was getting louder and louder, a few figures turned to watch your exchange, and you can’t imagine the turmoil this will take on him once his parents find out– it’s better to get him out of there before he messes up even more badly.

His feet stumbling on the stairs outside, he mutters something under his breath as you drag his half-limp, half-stubborn body through the enormous land. The gardens are full of fairy lights and adults talking to each other in hushed whispers, laughter erupting out of their put-together figures every now and then, and you take some time before you finally manage to find a silent corner in one of the carefully mowed gardens, Chenle’s complains silencing after a while, admitting his fate.

Carelessly throwing his body towards one of the benches, the lighting dim in the corner, you watch as he takes a seat and looks at you with defeated eyes, the emptiness behind his gaze breaking you on so many levels you didn’t even think you could master; Zhong Chenle is a mess– has been a mess for a while now, and you didn’t notice– you didn’t do anything about it until now.

“What happened to you?!” you yelp out, voice betraying you somewhere towards the end of the sentence, sounding more desperate than you intended. Eyes scanning over his slouching body, you notice him playing with his fingers in his lap, an action of calming himself down that he’s picked up after you slapped his hands every time he tried to bite on his nails growing up, and you take a few steps around the place, running your fingers through your carefully styled hair. 

“Don’t scold me like my mother,” Chenle grunts, rolling his eyes at your composure.

“No, Chenle, because I don’t get it,” you shake your head, looking him dead in the sparkless eyes, “I do not get it.”

When he offers you no explanation, rather just gazing your whole body up and down, eyes half-lidded, you presume he’s a bit out of it– the alcohol truly hitting his system now, making you result in a little tangent of yourself, because you presume everything’s better than his parent’s scolding, and maybe he just needs someone to wake him back to reality. “What happened, Chenle? What the actual fuck is going on lately? You don’t speak to anyone about it, you don’t tell me, out of all people–” a snicker leaves his lips to this, making you huff in frustration, “you don’t tell anyone how you’re feeling, and it’s eating you up from the inside, and believe me when I say, Chenle, it’s pretty damn heartbreaking to watch.”

Looking at him, you’re offered nothing but silence. His cheeks are rosy and puffed up from the alcohol, his frame is small– opposed to the power stance he usually takes– and you don’t think you’re getting a conversation from him any time soon. Ready to give up, you shake your head at him and scoff. “Okay, fine. You don’t have to talk to me, since you have an issue with the fact that I care about you more than I should,” you snap, agreeing to be petty with him, if this was how he was gonna play.

“I don’t talk to any of you, because you wouldn’t understand,” he says, voice almost a bit annoyed, tongue dipped in bitterness. 

“We grew up together, Chenle. Our lives are pretty much the same, why the fuck would you think that I, out of all people, wouldn’t understand?” 

“See, that’s the thing,” Chenle catches you off guard, charming in with an argument barely before you are able to finish the sentence, “our lives are pretty much the same, yet you love it. You fucking love it, all of you do– you love waking up in your little fancy bedrooms, doing great at school because if you don’t, your parents are going to threaten you with disowning you– and what else do you have if not your parents wealth that you coincidentally, also despise at the same time? You go shopping to your favorite mall with your equally wealthy friends, because you’re not allowed to befriend people that are lower class– that would just look fucking embarrassing in front of your parents’ contacts, wouldn’t it? You go to charity events and birthday celebrations of a guy you’ve never seen in your whole life before, just because someone told you to– and don’t you dare tell them you won’t go, because how the fuck are they gonna look all pretty in front of their business partners if their only son doesn’t attend a celebration of someone inheriting a share from their parents’ company– a thing you’re supposed to do as soon as you turn 20, if you don’t attend university they picked out for you instead. You go on fancy holidays and take pictures in front of all the attractions, and it doesn’t even feel special anymore, because you do this every month– and the only time you ever felt alive was when you were drunk and making out with someone that you shouldn’t even think about in that way in the first place, because it’s your parents’ friends’ daughter, and at the end of the day, they would just love the fact that we were together, because that could strengthen the business bond they have– the only reason why they’re friends in the first place, and I’m so fed up, I hate it, I despise it–” he stops to take a breath, his eyes getting glossy,

and suddenly, you’re helpless, you’re falling apart– because the issue is so much bigger than you anticipated and you don’t know how to do anything about it.

“And I don’t fucking feel real, Y/N, I don’t, and I don’t think I ever have, because I just wake up in the mornings and then somewhere along the way, I realise I’m alive and I laugh, because how could all of this be real? How could the money be real? How could anything be real, and– and it’s so confusing, because I should be grateful, but I’m not, because I can’t even fully grasp it,” he breathes, tears now streaking down his cheeks.

It feels like the whole world stopped for a moment; it feels like you are in a movie and someone pressed pause. You stare at him, you blink, and you pray for something to send you strength to deal with this, to tell you what to do or how to comfort him– because this must have felt so alone, and you can’t stand the image of Chenle ever being lonely.

Opening your mouth and closing it, you gasp for air. No words feel suitable for this kind of conversation, and so you just chime towards him– despite all your best assumptions– and hold him. Because at the end of the day, what helps more to ground someone back to earth than human touch?

Pads of your thumbs wipe at the teardrops strolling down his cheeks, every contact with the salty liquid hurting you, cutting through your skin like razor blades– because Chenle never cries, he never feels like something is worth indulging in enough to bring him to tears– and when he catches his trembling bottom lip in his teeth, you break; pulling him towards you and threading your fingers through his hair, the action once lullying him to sleep now used like a broken mantra– please be okay, please relax, please let me hold you until you’re glued back together again.

“I dunno what to do,” he shrugs, his head resting on your stomach, voice burrowing itself into the fabric of your expensive dress, “dunno where to go. ‘Cause Jun’s leaving, and Yizhuo’s gonna be busy with everything, and– and you’re moving across the fucking ocean, and I’m just– I turned everything down, because–” he says, voice breaking, and you shush him with a pat on his back, touch growing more affectionate.

“It’s okay,” you hum, “I got you,” you say; words he once told you at the golf cart, looking after you, or in the hotel room back in Japan when you were 6 and falling asleep, still scared of ghosts appearing in your bedroom– and you believed them, you always did, because Chenle was always there when you needed him– so you only pray he finds comfort in the sincere phrases, because what more is there to offer him?

His breathing grows steadier as you continue to play with his messy hair, his hands gently allowing themselves to wrap around your thighs, your standing figure shelved between his legs, and he laughs to himself, the whole situation kind of ironic to him now. “I don’t even know why I’m crying. ‘m kinda numb, you know, so it doesn’t even really hurt in the first place,” he says, and you wish you found the same humor in it than he did– or at least the bitter sense of soothing yourself with irony– but you can’t. Looking down at his body, latched to you like a lifeline, you wonder how you could ever leave him there alone, to deal with the burden by himself. How could you ever move so far away from him?

“My parents wanted me to go with you,” he starts, the sentence sparking up something inside of you, but he doesn’t pull away and meet your eyes when he continues, foreshadowing a sad ending to your hope, “they said I should study business at Yale as well, that it’s a great opportunity.”

You don’t reply to him, choosing not to push him. After a sigh, he continues. “And I didn’t get in, because, naturally, I was too stupid for it in the first place– no, I was–” he says when you gently slap the back of his head at the comment, “but then they paid the dean and suddenly I was allowed to go. Can you believe that?” he snickers bitterly, shaking his head in disbelief. “Bad mouthed you for a thing I despised in myself, when you were the one that got in fair and square in the first place.”

“‘s okay,” you mumble, compassion dripping off your words.

“And I turned it down, ‘cause I hated the fact that they did that. I was okay with studying the fucking business program, even though I despised it, I was okay with moving across the world, because at least you’d be there, y’know, but I couldn’t bear the fact that they did that to get me in. I think I was too ashamed, too embarrassed, because they had to pay for me to get there, but– I don’t know…” he trails off, and you sigh, shaking your head in disbelief.

“It’s okay to take opportunities that are presented to you, Lele,” you mumble, “I know you hate it, but you can’t change who you’re born to. The best you could do is to not waste all of this,” you say, trying to find a source of light in the deep abyss of his thoughts.

You try hard to solve the problem– to offer him a solution that could work, that could let him forget about the pain for at least a second– to wake him up from whatever deep thinking that got him into this mess. You try hard to solve the problem– but you don’t know how to deal with it. All you know is that you’re trying to pick up the patterns; you’d fit in his skin if you could, you’d crawl in and fix everything– but at the end of the day, as Yizhuo said, the only person you can fix is yourself.

“Bought,” he says, fixing your mistake, “opportunities that were bought for me. I couldn’t do it,” he says.

Huffing, indulging in a spare second of your own pain– a spare second of the despair eating you up from the insides, the helplessness you’ve been feeling ever since you were forcefully kicked out of Zhong Chenle’s life– and you didn’t even tell him you loved him in the first place before he got stuck in the fire of the woods; before you two started acting like it didn’t matter and always ended up in feuds– you mumble a comment, voice barely louder than a whisper, but he can hear it because of the closeness of your bodies in the few stray raindrops that come over you two once the clock strikes midnight.

“We could’ve lived together, you and me,” you say, “us against the whole world,” you comment– a childlike yearning spilling out of your lips, “we could’ve gone to Yale together and you’d figure something out along the way. Maybe– maybe you’d find a purpose if you moved, we could–”

“Y/N,” he shushes you, uttering out your name, finally breaking away from you as he looks up and gazes into the swimming pools of your eyes, shaking his head with a faint smile, “‘s okay. It wouldn’t have fixed anything anyway, it– it wouldn’t have helped.”

“But–”

“You can move, Y/N, but at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter, ‘cause you’re taking yourself with you.”

August 20, 2020 – the backyard of your childhood house, Shanghai, 11:11 PM

You were never really that good at science– sure, your parents demanded you get good grades in every subject and your private school put quite the pressure on your education, but even though you always managed to pull satisfactory marks in exams, your understanding of the logistics sometimes lacked; you were much better at humanities or business-related courses, hearing enough at family dinners to find out your way through the lectures and apply the facts into examples from real life.

So, if anyone asked you how many stars there were in the universe, you wouldn’t be too confident in your answer. You wouldn’t know how to apply the Milky Way as your model– since it was said that it has around 100 billion stars alone– and multiply the part by the amount of galaxies in the universe– approximately 2 trillion– to get a number somewhere close to 200 billion trillion, also called 200 sextillion. 

You wouldn’t know how to do any of that, or how to even count this amount without a calculator, so you’d take a more liberal arts approach– literary, even– and say, that on August 20, 2020, at 11:11 sharp in your backyard, gazing on to the deep, dark sky and wishing for a star to fall so you could propose a selfish wish that could change everything, there’s still not more stars there than in Zhong Chenle’s eyes when your gazes meet after your friends leave for the evening, leaving you with your neighbor completely alone.

And it’s strange, seeing him like this– maybe because you didn’t even realize how used to the dull and emotionless Chenle you’ve been all this time– but it warms something inside of your heart as you take a hesitant step towards him, the first one out of the whole evening, and take a seat next to him in the corner of your terrace, sighing to yourself.

“You actually came,” you note, seeing as he turns to you and furrows his eyebrows at you in confusion.

“Should I not have? I mean, by the text you sent me, it seemed like you wanted me here, but if I misread the situation, I can go…” he snickers, teasing you just the slightest as he nudges you to your side.

You hum, shaking your head in disapproval. “No,” you say, “I just… I dunno.”

“Expected me to ignore you?” 

“Kinda,” you admit, snickering.

“Damn,” he giggles, “that’s fair, though. Considering the previous events, and all.”

Rolling your eyes at his composure, finally getting used to the old Chenle– the one that teases you over the smallest things, the one who doesn’t let his emotions show in his face– you watch him as he takes a seat on one of the rattan sofas and you follow him, body slouching next to his, feeling his head gently rest on your shoulder in the mere moment of silence between your two figures.

“Wouldn’t let you leave without seeing you for the last time,” he says, voice quiet and vulnerable, “god knows when I’ll see you again.”

“Chenle–”

“Just because you don’t want to talk about it doesn’t mean it’s not real,” he snickers, already knowing where your words are going– you’re going to try to stop him, tell him you don’t want to think about it right now, on the last evening at your house for the near future. 

“I’d rather not think about that, y’know,” you huff, frustrated. The anxieties of leaving everything behind are clenching on your insides right now, holding you back from moving freely and with enthusiasm, and you wonder– if you knew how this would feel all those months ago– if you knew how terrifying and painful the whole process could be, would you still apply to Yale? Would you still want to go?

“Okay,” he dotes, tone of voice casual, like it’s not a big deal. 

“Okay? Just like that?” you snicker, surprised at how easily he gave the topic up.

“Yeah. Don’t wanna make you sadder.”

Sitting in silence, you realize there’s so many words you’d like to say to him. You’d like to tell him just how much you’re gonna miss him and how you regret ruining the last few months you two had together, and how you’re sorry your feelings scared him to the point where he felt like he had no one to confide in. You’d like to tell him how you built a future with him in your brain, carefully placed him into your reality, only for him to break away from your grasp and go his own way, and how much it hurts, but how you’re always going to support him in whatever he chooses, because you care for him more than your little heart could take. You’d like to tell him how you’re gonna call him every day to check up on him, how you’re gonna send letters and press a secret kiss to each sheet of expensive paper you’ll get downtown, wishing he could feel the essence with the growing distance between you two. You’d like to ask him to visit you often– he’s gonna have more time on his hands, and god knows money’s not the issue. You’d like to selfishly tell him you find it hard to deal with the distance, and how you wish he wouldn’t find somebody else while you’re gone, and how you so dearly hope that somewhere in there, your feelings are silently reciprocated, but hidden away in fear of everything falling apart once again.

But instead, you don’t say anything. You tend to wait for him to speak up first– he’s always had a problem with talking too much in the first place, after all.

And he does– you can still predict his next moves. You know him that well.

“I’m gonna miss you, though,” he sighs, catching you off guard by saying something from the list of your silenced words, “don’t think that I won’t. Or that the way I’ll miss you is different than the way you’re gonna miss me,” he speaks, tone of voice laced in honesty and sincerity, his words heavy with the essence of what he’s never going to say out loud– or so you think.

“In what way?”

“I’m not gonna miss you like a friend misses a friend,” he says, “and I don’t mean the sex,” he snickers, brightening the mood with his comment.

Rolling his eyes at him, you feel him lift his head up from your shoulder, forcing you to look at him and meet his starry eyes again– the damn starry eyes that always make you spill the truth, because god knows you cannot lie to him– and you find yourself scanning his features, the structure of his bones you fear you’re gonna forget when you’re away, so desperately wanting to lock your lips with his for one last time, because when you come back one day, you may not have the right or chance to do so anymore. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, not a hint of teasing in his voice.

“You know why, Chenle.”

“Can you say it out loud?” he demands, and you shake your head– maybe it's best if the words are left unsaid. Doesn’t matter if they’re hanging in the air, for everyone to read.

“Why?”

“You know how I feel about you,” you snicker, “don’t make me say it out loud.”

Because even if you told him you loved him, it wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t make it all better, it wouldn’t make it all good– no matter how hard you wish that it would. 

“Okay,” he nods, agreeing too fast again– and with that, he smiles, the gesture so soft and sudden, and there you are– you’ve got a caving heart in your open arms, and Chenle takes it, carelessly choking out the hushed confession, “I’m in love with you. If you don’t say it, I’m gonna, because… you deserve to know.”

Heart sinking into your stomach, you watch him, frozen in your place, for a while. Your eyes carefully scan every curve of his face– the curve of his lips, the curve of his cheeks, the hood of his eyes, his brows, the thousand stolen galaxies in his orbs and mouth glistening like honey, inviting you in. Snickering under your breath, you choose to not give in to the temptation.

“You’re only saying that because I’m leaving tomorrow,” you say, shaking your head. 

“Maybe,” he agrees.

And you know that– you know that if you weren’t leaving, he wouldn’t tell you that he loves you. He wouldn’t allow himself to be this vulnerable, he wouldn’t tell you how he feels about you, because he had all this time– all those months and weeks spent with you in his bed, and you know his touches weren’t just shallow desire– and he never once said anything. He didn’t do anything about it, and now that there is nothing more to do about it, nothing that could change the trajectory of either of your lives, he chooses to speak it to the universe; because it doesn’t change anything, it can’t possibly do so– and so he doesn’t have to fear the consequences, he doesn’t have to fear the attachment that comes with such confession.

And for a minute, you think it’s selfish. You think it’s laughable, ironic, even, but you accept it. 

His hand reaches for yours, interlocking your fingers with his when he launches you forward into him, arms gently enveloping your body when your head settles itself to the curve of his shoulder. You stay like this for a while, in his hold again, breathing in his scent and trying to remember it for weeks and months before you’re able to smell it again, letting out a nosy question out of your lips– and truly, you don’t know why you do so, when you know the answer to it already anyway. Maybe you just want to hear it again.

“So… you do have feelings for me too, after all?”

He stays quiet for a while, before he softly laughs into your hair. “Yeah,” he nods, “but it doesn’t matter, ‘cause you’re leaving for Yale tomorrow, aren’t you?”

And he’s right– you are. Thinking for a while, feeling him place a shy peck to the crown of your head– the only kiss you two allow yourselves at this point of time– you come to the conclusion that  even though you love him, care for him like you’ve never cared for another before, you wouldn’t change a thing about your plan– wouldn’t change the trajectory of your whole life, wouldn't stay in Shanghai, wouldn’t drop out of university, wouldn’t stop everything because of him, because in a way, you strangely have it all figured out. 

And he doesn’t.

And you pray that one day, he’ll find the purpose in all the potential he holds in his hands.