the little bell ⇢ rensung

cinq

after that very awkward situation, jisung had his head drooped down the whole day, his face as red as a ripe tomato. words never managed to get out of his mouth without materializing into dust, and he looked like he was genuinely glitching over the whole scenario.

even with such a condition, jisung did manage to find his way into the apartment and reach his dorm, only to find it was locked, and to add to his dismay, he could clearly hear muffled screams and moans, mostly in a very high-pitched voice.

jisung knocked on the wood, succeeding with a bunch of kicks, along with his very strained voice begging the two to open the damn door. gradually enough, his kicks grew softer until he really lost his mind.

keeping his violin on the side, jisung cracked his knuckles as pure rage flowed through his veins replacing blood. bracing himself to knock as loudly as he could, he wanted to punch the damn wood with all his might, but that thought took over him as he blew his fist on the door, only to hear thuds and a squeak in the same high-pitched voice.

jisung's eyes widened as he looked at his arm, that pretty much obliterated the thin wood surrounding his fist. he immediately retracted his hand and flinched as he heard more squeaks, before the door unlocked itself and slowly swung open.

chenle was sprawled on the floor like he was dead, his voice squeaking weakly like the broken door, his forehead tinged crimson. jaemin was crouched down, trying to wake his fiance up. looking up, jaemin glared at jisung intensely, almost ready to strangle him in his hands for what the younger did to his boyfriend.

"what the fuck have you done?!" jaemin retorted, his anger only amplifying after seeing the condition of the poor door. "my god, you would have killed lele! and i'm not paying for the door's damage."

"he isn't dead, so shut the fuck up," jisung retorted as he glared at his roommate, closing the broken door and walking away to his room. even though he sounded harsh and insensitive about the situation, concern bubbled up inside him as he stole a glance at the almost unconscious boy on the floor.

"language, sungie!"

jisung heed no attention to his roommate's yells as he walked to his room and flopped on his messy bed. groaning as he kept the violin case aside, tiredness crept in into his frame, yet his mind felt like it was full of energy. he closed his eyes to sleep the conflicting feelings away but only ended up amplifying them as the incident played in his mind again and again like a broken record.

he felt his face burn as his hand reached out to touch where renjun kissed him. god, even though it was more like a peck, it made him crave renjun's kisses like a burning addiction that he cannot get rid of. it felt so warm, so soft and was brimming with affection— if this was merely a kiss to stop jisung from going emotional, how would the pianist's actual kisses feel like?!

a guttural and raspy groan fell from jisung's lips as he buried his face further into the pillow, embarrassment flowing through his frame. sighing, he pulled himself up as he tried to steal a glance at the couple— jaemin glancing lovingly at chenle who just woke up from the whole commotion, before showering him with kisses, muttering an 'are you alright' every now and then to which chenle merely responds with a smile and a hum of content.

jisung's braincells decided to commit arson on his emotions as his imagination took over his sanity, forming a mental image on his head about himself and the pianist being a couple— duetting together, stealing kisses in the hallways when no one is looking, finally filling that void that was previously reserved for his roommate.

and seeing the very obvious splotches on chenle's neck and shoulders, his train of thought derailed into the horny lane, which was even harder for jisung to control and push away. after all, renjun's mouth is pretty talented— not only is he able to speak clearly despite being an introvert, he has such an adorable voice (jisung caught him singing to himself as he was strolling to his home), and not to mention, his kisses.