Dear Jaemin, 

I’m not really sure if you know what you do to me. You’re just… you, like, Jaemin, a special guy but a person. But like, a person whose insides are made of one of those super powerful magnets. I can’t stop looking at you and trying to be close to you and wanting to touch you. Like a magnet. 

Sometimes, it feels like a bad romance book. You’re the guy, you know, the one wearing a nice and shoving your card in the envelope without even looking at it. The guy in a perfectly fitted suit and shiny shoes and gelled back hair. It’s so y Jaemin, not because of the money, I promise, I would never do this just for your money, it’s just… maybe it’s so hot because you are well-groomed and have power. Haha

Sometimes I just feel like some empty guy, someone that anyone could be, like in those romance books, the main character that the reader can insert themselves into. But I promise I only feel like that when I’m alone with my thoughts. Your letters remind me that for whatever reason, you like me too, and that I do deserve it. 

Anyways, I didn’t mean to sound insecure. Sometimes things just go from my brain onto the page and don’t feel like starting over. I just wanted to say you looked hot yesterday. One curl of your hair fell out of place, and I kinda couldn’t stop thinking about it. It looked so… hot. 

It’s probably not good to say this, but every day you get harder and harder to resist. 

Yours, 

Jeno

P.S. now I’m rereading this and I don’t think it makes a lot of sense. I just came home from work but I wanna answer you right away and send it asap so I won’t rewrite it. Something tells me you won’t mind 

Jeno probably should’ve been thinking about his tables at work on a Friday evening, the loud and packed place bustling with busy bartenders and customers and hosts and waiters, just like Jeno, leg muscles as stressed as their minds. But Jeno was in a haze, minding running over the letter he’d sent Jaemin a few evenings before. He’d been a little out of his mind when he’d written it, and ignorant to future embarrassment (and maybe a little regret). But every sentiment he wrote remained true. 

Jeno could feel the love building between them there in those letters, but Jeno couldn’t ignore the lust bubbling just under the surface. Before Jeno sent his letter, it hadn’t been something mentioned; he could only feel it at the Sign of the Dove: the way he could feel Jaemin’s eyes trailing on him when he helped the customers, the subtlest brush of fingers when Jeno handed him the bill, faces close together when Jeno set Jaemin’s meal down on the table. Of course, it had to be so inconspicuous that Jeno’s coworkers wouldn’t have a single clue. But the caution was slowly fading, only out of utter desperation. 

Job. Right. 

“How is everything? Can I bring you all anything?” Jeno finally remembered to ask one of his tables. 

“Great here, thanks,” a customer answered, and with a smile and polite nod, Jeno turned around. 

And subsequently froze still. 

Jaemin, the man, the myth, the legend, all he could think about for days and days. Then, a single pace afterward, a girl. 

Jaemin pulled out a seat for the girl before sitting down in his usual spot. 

. Jeno pretended not to see them, gripping his order notes so tight he could’ve broken its binding. 

He couldn’t do this. Could he do this? He was gonna have to do this. There was nothing he could do; he couldn’t ask someone to cover without arousing suspicion. Did Jaemin ask someone else to wait

Deep breath. In, then out. He was going to do this. 

“Good evening, Jaemin, ma’am. My name is Jeno, I’ll be your server tonight.” 

“Ooh! This is Jeno!” She spoke with a giggle. She was unbelievably beautiful, with long straight dark hair, a dress that caught every glitter of the dim restaurant lights, and a smile you could actually feel. They were a perfect couple. Their relationship was beautiful to look at. 

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” she added, Jeno making eye contact with her. 

Did she know?

Maybe. Jeno wasn’t sure why else Jaemin would mention him. After all, an arranged marriage could clearly lead to an agreement of sorts. But there was nothing knowing in her eyes, just a kind innocence. Jeno had to turn away quickly. 

“Jeno, this is my wife, Heejin.” Jaemin grinned all the way up to his eyes. But he didn’t brush her shoulder, hold her hand, not a hand laid on her, not caring nor controlling. 

“So nice to meet you,” Heejin said, shaking Jeno’s hand with delicate strength. Jeno shook it and smiled but he wasn’t an actor; it didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“The pleasure is all mine,” Jeno lied. “Can I get you started with some drinks?” 

Jaemin gestured to Heejin. “Cosmopolitan for me!”

“And an old-fashioned for myself, please.” 

“I’ll be right out with that,” Jeno answered, giving the couple a slight nod before power walking to the bar. 

As soon as he turned around the smile immediately fell off Jeno’s face. That had gone okay, right? Jeno thought so. He’d been friendly enough. 

Had Jaemin tried to ask for someone else to wait on him? Or was that suspicious? Or was Jaemin just that desperate to be near him, even enough to risk everything? 

“Jeno!” Johnny said as he approached the bar, two shakers in his hand. “What can I get you?” 

“Cosmopolitan and old-fashioned, stat.” 

Johnny grinned and gave his iest pour to the two women waiting for their drinks at the bar. “On it, my dude.” 

As Johnny whipped up the drinks, he turned to Jeno. “Is that Heejin I see with Jaemin?” 

“Yup,” Jeno managed. 

“Finally, back to normal. Seems like your little flirtation with him ended before it started.” 

“Definitely,” Jeno lied with the fakest chuckle he’d ever given in his life. 

Luckily, Johnny bought it. “He tips extra to impress her. It’s a good thing she’s back.” He set the two drinks on the bar top as well as a shot glass full of a clear liquid. 

“Something for our favorite customers, and a little something else for my favorite waiter.” Johnny reached over to ruffle Jeno’s hair, and for the first time that night, Jeno genuinely smiled. 

“You’re the best,” Jeno answered, and he sure as hell meant it. He’d never needed a shot more in his entire life. He took the shot before grabbing the drinks, taking them back to the table. 

“Your cosmopolitan, and your old-fashioned,” Jeno said as he gently set down the drinks. 

“So fast!” She said happily, taking a sip. 

“Have you had a chance to look over the menu?”

“Yes, we will start by splitting the Caesar salad, then she will have the salmon and I will have the carbonara pasta.” 

“Sounds delicious,” Jeno answered. “I will have the kitchen get started right away. May I take your menus?” 

Jaemin quietly gathered his and Heejin’s menus, holding them out to Jeno. But when Jeno took them, the slightest pressure of Jaemin’s fingers sent electric shivers all the way down his spine. 

Jaemin looked up at him with such square deliberation that the shivers ramped up until he was shaking on the inside. It was on purpose, of course it was, it was I want you and I’m sorry all at once. Then, Jaemin grinned, only for him. And Jeno grinned back. 

The night was a blur until Jeno was back, setting their food down. Jeno smiled and smirked. He leaned down far, super close, a little too close, to put Jaemin’s plate in front of him. 

Jeno felt Jaemin’s deliberate exhale of breath on his neck, a millisecond of eye contact, and Jeno shot back up, 

Heejin was deep in her plate. “Delicious!” 

Did she really not care at all? Or could she just not see? 

It was obvious she was happy. And really, she couldn’t be oblivious. She just couldn’t. She must be in on it. 

Jeno smiled to himself, repeating it over and over in his head until there was no room for any other thoughts on the matter. It was impossible for that not to be the case. 

“Thank you, Jeno.” The corners of Jaemin’s lips turned up. Ooh, they had a secret. Jeno could only explain it as feeling naughty, the cackling naughty of a little boy who just loved to things up. 

“Anything else I can get you?”

“I think we’re perfect.” 

“I’ll be back with your entrees shortly.” 

And the rest of the evening fell into a blur, only interrupted by brief moments of perfect clarity, when their eyes met and contained more words than they could ever write. It was hard to think of anything else with this icky, guilty thrill running through him. 

Jeno returned with the check when they were ready and Jaemin took it right from his grasp, hands practically in hands, and Jeno could feel the texture of Jaemin’s perfectly formed fingers. 

“Oh honey,” Heejin said softly as Jaemin stuck his card on the envelope. Jeno jolted; he’d forgotten she was there. 

“My treat,” Jaemin answered, handing back the envelope to Jeno. 

“But it’s always your treat!” Heejin fake whined. 

Brilliant. Jaemin had pretended to grab the menu from Jeno as a gesture to her. He was too good.

“Thank you,” Jeno could only say, smiling to himself. 

It was almost the end of the night and Jeno’s brain was totally fried, anxiety leaving only exhaustion in its wake, when Jaemin and Heejin stood up to leave. Still, not once, ever letting a single finger brush her. 

Jaemin led her out of the restaurant, making their way between tables and chairs, towards the exit, almost right in Jeno’s path. Jeno couldn’t stop standing still, watching him go. But suddenly he was so close, trying to walk between Jeno and the next chair over. And then he was squeezing himself between, and the space was so tight that Jeno could feel the heat of Jaemin’s backside, his suit back pockets brushing against Jeno’s front. 

Jaemin looked Jeno up and down. “Have a nice evening.”

Jeno was flushed, mouth open, clutching the white tablecloth where he leaned. “Y-you too,” he managed. 

Jaemin winked and then Jeno had to be a person again, stepping aside for Heejin and running off to the next table that was flagging him, while his insides had melted into a puddle of pure mush. 

And Jeno didn’t quite feel whole again until he got home and raced to his mailbox to oh, thank god find a letter which he tore open as fast as his shaking fingers would allow 

Dear Jeno, 

Let me start by getting this part over with. I hate to even put this in the letter because it’s such a downer. But I do have to bring her, you know, into the restaurant soon. She’s been wondering, quite a bit, as I brought her in fairly frequently before you and me. I hate to do this to you, and I can only pray that this letter reaches you in time. 

Now, onto what matters. Jeno, you don’t know how I dream at night. You don’t know the places my mind wanders to, and I don’t think you should know. But I want to tell you anyways. 

I think about your hands, mostly. Touching me in parts of myself I didn’t know existed. When I’m lying awake at night, it’s you in your uniform that fills my mind. 

For me, you are that magnet. You are my own personal magnet, drawing me close and not letting me free. My mind is absolutely stuck on you. And I want so bad to be pressed against you, completely, stuck to one another in every sense of the word. 

YOU are my main romance, I promise I am nothing but the vessel made for you to pour everything you are into. And say it, because it’s true. You can’t resist me, and I can’t resist you. 

I 

Want

You. 

Yours, yours, all yours, 

Jaemin