When Renjun gets home, he finds Jaemin standing in the kitchen with an unreadable expression. Eyes clouded over and shoulders hunched, he drops the bag and rushes over to Jaemin's side. His hands reach out, but all he touches is air.

A loud tsk passes his lips, worry clouding his features as he tries to meet Jaemin's gaze. It's beyond unfair that he can't touch him; that he can't hold him or cup his face and make him look at him. If only he could do all of that. If only he could comfort the boy in front of him with the expression so broken that it makes his heart ache.

After a passing moment, Jaemin lifts his head and their eyes meet and it hurts. Hurts how torn the boy looks. How lost he seems to be. How the tremble of a smile that graces his lips must hurt trying to pull off when it's clear he barely has the energy for it at all.

"Jaem, what's wrong?" he asks so softly, the words are barely audible through the room. It doesn't need to be loud, though. It's enough for Jaemin to hear.

"I wanted to cook," Jaemin responds, a scoff following shortly after. His eyes shift away. "I wanted to cook for you, but..."

"Hey, it's okay." Renjun tried to smile but it barely brushed his eyes. "You don't have to worry about—"

"I don't have to, but I do," Jaemin stresses. It's the first he's heard Jaemin raise his voice like this. It's not as terrifying as it is heart wrenching. "I can't do a lot of things so I just... I feel pretty useless, you know?" He can hear the quake in his voice and it hurts. More than anything. That he can't do anything.

"This is where I would hit you again," Renjun says instead with a shrug. "Don't apologize for what you can't control."

The words linger in the air as Renjun makes his way over to the counter and pulls out a cup. He readies the coffee, turning around as he waits for the water to boil. Jaemin is leaning against the table, looking over at him with a faint smile.

"Did you have a good time?" he asks softly.

"Yeah, I did." Renjun smiles. Jaemin's words from earlier come back to him, so with a tilt of his head, he looks to Jaemin. "You said you went there with your friends. Do you remember them?"

"Yeah, I do. We were around the same age. One of them was younger. So it wasn't hard to meet up every day and stuff." A sigh escapes him, but Renjun watches quietly rather than commenting. "We grew up together, so it just sucks you know? I miss them. Especially little Jisungie."

Renjun freezes.

Jisung is a common name, so the chances that they knew the same one were highly improbable. But the thing about fate is that it's twisted. In Renjun's opinion especially, fate was sick and twisted. He knew that the moment he walked in to find Jaemin on his couch. So what if it were the same one and they'd actually been a lot closer than either of them realized? What then?

"Park Jisung?" he asks before he can stop himself. He wasn't going to ask because depending on the answer, he wasn't sure how he would feel. Disappointed in both senses. He did not want to know that they had someone in common all this time. Because that just meant fate was shit and never really cared for them. Maybe even had it out for them.

"How did you—"

"He's my friend's boyfriend. My friend too, of course." Renjun can't control the way his voice is trembling, barely audible as he forces the words out into the air. "He was there with us tonight. Both of them."

"Chenle."

"Yeah."

There's a small smile on his face, head lowered in thought. A chuckle follows shortly after, but Renjun isn't sure what's so funny. Jaemin must realize because, after lifting his head, he smiles in a way that lets him know he's going to explain.

"He and Hyuck's boyfriend wanted to set me up with—"

"A friend of theirs."

Jaemin looks as surprised as Renjun feels.

"But then that one friend—"

"Got a boyfriend," Jaemin finishes off.

"They never said what happened to their friend. They'd usually invite them but I don't know. I just assumed..." He trails off, wobbling over to the table where he falls into the chair. Hands roughly treading through his hair, he stares at the oak wood of the table. "You were the friend they wanted to set me up with," he whispers.

"As were you."

"The person you started dating was Jeno then," Renjun deduces. It all makes sense. When he glances up, the look on Jaemin's face is enough of an answer. He can't help but scoff. "Small fucking world."

"Really small."

"Yeah."

Jaemin slides into the seat across from him, hands folded in front of him as he meets Renjun's eye. "Chenle tried to set it up, but you... He never said why, but I think you declined. And then when he tried again, I was already dating Jeno."

"I was picky. Just how I was with every other person he tried to set me up with." He runs a hand through his hair in frustration. He hated himself now more than ever. With this information, it just proved Donghyuck was right. Had he not been picky, he would have met Jaemin when he was technically supposed to. Had he pushed aside his pickiness for just one day, everything would be different. "If I had just"

"You didn't know," Jaemin whispers softly and maybe it's supposed to comfort him, but it doesn't.

"I wish I did. I wish I hadn't been so picky—"

"It's okay."

"You and I would have met sooner."

"Renjun..."

"And you wouldn't..." Fuck. The words are just coming, but it's as he's about to say them that he realizes how messed up it is. How true it is. "If I hadn't been picky... If I'd just gone on that date with you, we wouldn't be here right now. You wouldn't be dead, Jeno wouldn't be the mess that he is and we—" A sob finds its way up his throat, cutting him off completely. He hates himself more than anything at this moment. Everything he's saying is true and he hates it. It makes him feel so much worse.

A breeze hugs him. He realizes it's Jaemin putting his arms around him.

"It's not fair," Renjun whispers, voice still shaky. "I could have met you. All I ever wanted was the chance to meet my soulmate."

"You've already met me," Jaemin points out.

"Alive?"

Fate really is twisted.