Dangerous Affection | Renmin | Jaemren

5

The days bled together in a haze of suspicion and unease. Jaemin was running on fumes, buried under a mountain of responsibilities, and Renjun found himself caught in the crossfire of a game that was far deadlier than he’d ever imagined. Every time Renjun tried to reach out, Jaemin brushed him off with a tight smile and a quick excuse. It was like watching a beautiful facade slowly crumble, revealing the cracks underneath.

Renjun hated it. He hated feeling useless, watching Jaemin push himself to the brink while refusing to let anyone in. And worst of all, Renjun hated the way his own emotions were tangled up in all of it—the worry, the anger, the undeniable pull he felt toward Jaemin despite everything.

Late one night, after another exhausting day of chasing down leads, Jaemin sat slumped on the couch, his head resting against the back cushions, eyes closed. Renjun watched him from the kitchen, hesitant to disturb the rare moment of peace.

But just as Renjun was about to retreat, Jaemin spoke, his voice low and weary. “What are you staring at?”

Renjun blinked, caught off guard. “Nothing. Just… you look tired.”

Jaemin let out a humorless laugh, rubbing a hand over his face. “That obvious, huh?”

Renjun walked over, taking a seat beside Jaemin. “You need a break, Jaemin. You’re going to burn yourself out.”

Jaemin glanced at him, something akin to vulnerability flickering in his eyes. “And then what? If I stop, everything falls apart.”

Renjun hesitated, unsure of how to break through Jaemin’s stubborn defenses. “You don’t have to carry this alone. I’m here, remember?”

Jaemin looked at him, really looked at him, as if seeing Renjun for the first time. For a moment, the tension between them melted away, replaced by a quiet understanding. But just as quickly, Jaemin’s walls snapped back up.

“Thanks, Renjun,” Jaemin said softly, though his tone was distant. “But there are some things you can’t help with.”

Renjun opened his mouth to argue, but before he could say anything, Jaemin’s phone buzzed, shattering the fragile peace. Jaemin picked it up, his expression darkening as he read the message.

“We need to go,” Jaemin said, his voice tight with urgency. “Now.”

---

They drove in tense silence, the city rushing past in a blur of neon lights and shadows. Renjun didn’t bother asking where they were going—he could tell from Jaemin’s clenched jaw and the way his hands gripped the steering wheel that something was wrong. Very wrong.

They pulled up outside a nondescript building in a quieter part of town, a place Renjun recognized as a safe house used by the organization. But when they stepped inside, the scene that greeted them was anything but safe.

The room was a mess—furniture overturned, papers scattered, and in the middle of it all, an unfamiliar man lay slumped against the wall, blood staining his shirt. Renjun’s stomach churned at the sight.

Jaemin rushed forward, checking the man’s pulse, but it was clear he was too late. Jaemin cursed under his breath, his expression a mix of anger and frustration.

Renjun’s heart pounded as he took in the scene. “Who is he?”

Jaemin’s jaw tightened. “One of ours. He was supposed to meet us with intel on the mole.”

Renjun’s blood ran cold. This was no ordinary hit—this was a warning. Whoever was behind the leak was playing a dangerous game, and they were one step ahead.