sleight of hand

Today is Mark’s graduation day. Renjun feels numb and rooted in place, hating himself with every passing second and wishing he could just up and leave.

He remembers the brightest smile he’s ever seen on Mark’s face, all tightly pulled cheeks and crinkled eyes, as he strode across the stage. He remembers the overwhelming pride that filled up his chest, witnessing this significant moment. He remembers thinking Mark is at his most beautiful with hard-won victory etched in the curve of his lips, and easy confidence draped across the strong line of his shoulders.

He remembers thinking he’s so, so glad to be in the audience watching him, and then having to swallow back the bile that rose up his throat at how awful the lie tasted on his tongue.

It was a lie. Renjun feels like a lie, seated beside Mark’s parents, pretending he doesn’t worship their son with all the reverence and devotion society bestows upon their own gods. He sits there, guilt stewing in the pit of his stomach, acting like the hands that are politely clapping now aren’t the same hands that had undressed their son a million times. Renjun wonders how he’s supposed to conceal the love he knows is evident in his eyes, to tone it down to casual affection appropriate for two grown men, without feeling like he’s driving a knife right between his chest.

The facts are these: Renjun and Mark are dating. They have been together for three years. They are happy, in love, and planning for a future together.

But the undeniable truths are these: Mark hasn’t told his parents. Renjun came today and was introduced as his ‘good friend’. Mark had to invite his other friends to his graduation party just so Renjun’s presence wouldn’t look too suspicious.

Renjun feels like throwing up. There’s a noose around his neck and Mark’s parents hold the other end, whether they know it or not.

The rest of the ceremony passes by in a blur, all his attention focused on trying to keep a pleasant expression on his face so as to not clue anyone in on the ugly unraveling of his thoughts. He thinks Mark’s mom asked him if he was alright at one point; he probably nodded, too trapped in his mind to process anything else. Before he knows it, Mark is in front of him, grabbing his arm and dragging him out of his seat.

“Let’s take a photo together, Junnie! Come on!” He exclaims, his boyish glee and twinkling eyes as damning as they had been from that very first day.

Renjun smiles and nods, helpless against the sheer magnetism of one Mark Lee. The noose loosens until it’s almost off, until he can breathe with less difficulty, and in this moment, everything is fine. “Okay.”

Mark’s dad comes closer and holds his camera up. “Alright! On the count of three…”

An arm was thrown across his shoulders and on instinct, he wraps his own around Mark’s hip. Not a second later, he feels a hand subtly pulling his arm down until it’s no longer touching him anymore.

“Too intimate. Friends, remember?” Mark whispers under his breath, a smile still fixed on his face but a little strained at the edges.

Just like that, the noose is back. And it’s tighter than ever.

Renjun puts his hand in his pockets instead and tries to arrange his expression into something that resembles happiness. He hears the click of the shutter going off and hopes he looks decent in the photo at least. It’s a day to be remembered; Mark doesn’t deserve it to be tainted with Renjun’s awfulness.

It’s getting harder and harder to breathe. Renjun really wants to leave now.

Mark must have seen something on his face because he quickly makes up an excuse to go to the bathroom and tugs him along. Renjun stumbles after him, too fraught to resist, too tired to argue that going there together would look weirder than a side hug for a picture. Once they’re safely inside and the door is locked, Mark gently brings Renjun to him, a worried frown wiping the joyful look he’s been wearing all day off his face. Hands sweetly cupping Renjun’s cheeks make him close his eyes, and it’s so painfully loving that he wishes it’s enough to soothe the burn of suffocation in his lungs. It’s not.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” He asks, leaning in and closing the distance between their foreheads. “Hmm? You don’t look okay. But I could’ve sworn you looked fine earlier…”

Renjun smiles again because that’s all he can do. He chose this and chose him. He knew it was going to be like this. “I’m okay. Just a bit tired, I think.” He places a kiss on his boyfriend’s lips, barely there and fleeting, just because he can. In this moment, he can. “I love you. You know that, right? So much that I can’t breathe around it sometimes. You just fill this space,” he reaches up and takes one of Mark’s hands to place it on his chest, “too much that it can be overwhelming. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

Soft lips swallow down the rest of what he was going to say in a bruising kiss. Every breath is shaky, every lick of tongue desperate the way clandestine lovers are during the liminal hours of the night. Renjun gasps, holding tightly onto Mark’s hair, desperately trying to ignore the rational side of his brain that yells at them to be more careful, desperately trying to pretend the excruciating pain of the rope around his neck is not killing him. The slick glide of lips and tongue and teeth is too much, too much, but it’s the balm that soothes every single one of his burns. All that matters now is the two of them, just Mark and Renjun, and all the facts about them that Renjun is holding onto with every inch of his life. It doesn’t matter that there are truths threatening to ruin them. They will make it work.

They have to.

Too soon, their kiss ends. It only lasted less than a minute, give or take. Renjun knows they have to make it quick, that the others will be wondering what’s taking them so long, but he still wishes he could have savored the taste of Mark on his tongue a little longer. Mark pulls away from him, breaths ragged, his hair and clothes in disarray. “Woah. Okay, that’s… wow. A little eager today, aren’t we?” Chuckling, he starts the process of making himself look presentable again. “I wasn’t expecting a profound love declaration today! But I love you just as much, okay? Maybe even more. Actually, I definitely love you more. And don’t argue! I will fight you, love of my life or not.”

“Whatever.” Renjun playfully rolls his eyes. “I’m not going to take the bait only because it’s supposed to be your big day today. Now, go! Shoo! Get back out there first before they start asking questions. I’ll be out in a minute.”

Mark stares at him for a few seconds, eyes boring into his like he’s looking for something but he doesn’t know what. Renjun shifts in his feet and swallows hard before flashing him another smile. Bigger. Brighter. Hopefully more convincing. It seems to work because after a moment, Mark nods, kisses him on the forehead one last time, and then leaves.

The soft thud of the door closing shut is like a gunshot in the sudden stillness. Renjun exhales shakily, reaching up with an unsteady hand to touch his neck and look for the rope that had felt too real to be something he’d just imagined. But it’s not there, just the rapid hammering of his pulse and cold sweat. A hollow laugh resounds around the empty room.

He glances at himself in the mirror. All he sees in his reflection is the glaring imprints on every place Mark has ever touched. He still can’t see them as anything more than choked up lies, but he’s long since learned how to turn a blind eye to most things. So now, Renjun simply rolls his shoulders back and straightens up, walking out with his head high like he hadn’t just been losing air moments before.

When he gets back to where the others are, he sees Mark laughing with his Dad, looking neat and proper again. All traces of their stolen moment were gone, nothing left of it to show except maybe for his slightly ruddy cheeks and the cowlick at the back of his head that he forgot to smooth out. There, and gone again. It’s been the running theme of his role in Mark’s life right from the start.

A sleight of hand — that’s what their relationship is. You wouldn’t know to look for it if you’re too distracted by the grand show being thrown at your face. And Mark has always been a great performer. Renjun both loves and resents him for it.

But Renjun is a good actor too; has already mastered his own craft. Maybe that is why they work so perfectly in the first place. They both know to do their parts, and to do them well.