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#* I just unfortunately am too exposed to that sort of humor... not really mine though *
1lymark · 5 years
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yellow paint blues || renjun
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→ summary: a few hours before renjun needs to submit his art project, he realizes that he’s run out of yellow paint. luckily, you’re there to help (or not.) → genre: fluff, humor, college!au → words: 3.2K → a/n: dedicated to mary, my lovely patron. as always, this got way out of hand and got longer than i anticipated. i hope you enjoy!
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Renjun had thought that the art course would be an easy A. He hadn’t needed the easy A to begin with anyway––his grades in every other course were beyond stellar, so most people would probably assume that he was doing it to pass time or to gain extra credits. Or so, that was what he wanted people to assume.
In reality, he had signed up for the course because you had wanted to. It wasn’t like you asked him to accompany him; he recalled you mentioning the course in passing a week before registration and somehow, that little comment had wormed its way to the forefront of his mind as he clicked “ADD COURSE” to his already packed schedule.
“Should be easy enough,” he assured himself, patting his own shoulder in untimely congratulations as he thought of the extra three hours in a week that he would get to hang out with you. After all, Renjun’s art skills weren’t shabby, so surely this could not go wrong in any way possible.
He forgot, in his hubris, about the tantalizing taste that procrastination had to offer. The sweet nectar that he had yet to conquer in all his years of education had once again enticed him like a fly to a fire. It was inevitable, and yet… how could he have been so blind?
So there he was, in his room at one in the morning, with more paint on his fingers than he had on his canvas. The blank surface taunted him in his mind, laughing hysterically at the cruel fate he had assigned to himself in the name of love.
The project should have been simple enough: it was a self-expression piece, wherein the objective was to present what makes them happiest. His professor was lenient to the point of negligent, allowing her students to use any medium they pleased for this first assignment. Macaroni and glue, string and popsicle sticks, scrap paper with a drunken doodle… She was open-minded to anything under the sun. However, the thing about Renjun was that he was an overachiever to a fault, so even though he could’ve theoretically slapped a Spotify playlist together on a CD and called it a day, he simply was not spiritually able to hand in anything less than perfect.
So of course Renjun chose to paint for his first project. Painting wasn’t even his strongest suit, but he wanted to challenge himself, or so he said when he had loudly announced that to you almost a week ago.
A week ago. He had an entire week to finish, with no other pressing assignments or tests in between, and yet he still found himself in this predicament. Thus was the fate of unending suffering that every university student must face.
You had texted him a few hours ago, asking to see a picture of his work. Despite your excitement to take this course, you had always been a bit self-conscious about your art pieces, though you have never expressed this to anyone. Renjun could see it in the way that you would close in on yourself when people ask to see your work, quickly redirecting the conversation elsewhere once people have their eyes off of you.
Not him though––you always showed each other your works. It made Renjun’s heart race just a little bit every time you exposed this side of yourself, and so he made a promise to always give you any sort of reassurance you might need.
Unfortunately for this time, he was a bit too busy trying not to drown in his own irresponsibility to answer you properly when you had texted.
to: renjunnie from: y/n-chi
hey!! how’s your project holding up? can i see yours? i finished mine just now and idk if i’m happy with it tbh…
to: y/n-chi from: renjunnie
not… going well… send reinforcements… T_T i think i’m gonna rot now…
to: renjunnie from: y/n-chi
eh??? the infallible huang renjun is suffering??? from a first year art assignment??? someone call the catholics, because i think the rapture is coming
to: y/n-chi from: renjunnie
y/n don’t be mean >:( this is srs!! i think i have inhaled enough paint fumes to fail a drug test by now
to: renjunnie from: y/n-chi
tsk. that’s what you get for procrastinating, babe. sending my thoughts and prayers!! txt me updates so i know you don’t die from paint ingestion ^^
If you weren’t so god damn cute, he would have smothered you (with his love) by now. Even if you didn’t know it, your texts had given him enough motivation to get something on the canvas, even though none of his drafts seemed to be good enough at the moment.
What was it that made Renjun happy, anyway? He liked listening to music, but that was as generic as it gets… Who didn’t like music? He also liked reading and travelling, though those don’t seem to be too appealing to paint either. Some of his friends had joked that he should just paint a bunch of Moomin, so that he wouldn’t really need to paint because it would mostly be white anyway.
Those things just seemed too shallow for him. While they were things that he enjoyed, he wouldn’t want to be that guy who showed up to class with a half-assed doodle and some stupid explanation like “happiness is what you make of it.” No, he would be better than that.
There was something quite obvious that he could use for his project, or rather, someone. It would be too embarrassing though––not that he was embarrassed of you, by any means. He just wasn’t brave enough to do it, not yet at least. Someday, he’ll have the heart to tell you his feelings, but for now… he was stuck with a blank canvas and an emptier mind.
The clock read 3:30AM when Renjun had decided to throw all his morals to the wind and just paint a field of sunflowers out of desperation. He thought that if all else failed, maybe he would submit that and say something about how he remembered going to a place like that in his childhood. It would be a complete lie, since his family hardly went out to nature spots like that, but at least you would like the painting. Sunflowers were your favorite, after all.
Halfway through his painting however, he realized that his tube of yellow paint was looking awfully empty. He squeezed it as much as he could, scrapping it out as much of the remaining paint as physically possible.
“Crap,” he moans out, looking at his half-colored canvas forlornly. There were still at least six sunflowers to be painted, though he had already painted most of the background. This couldn’t do; he had no time to start over. The art supply shop didn’t open until at least 9AM, but his classes start shortly after that. There was no way he could pull this off at this rate. Unless…
He reached for his phone from his table, almost tripping over his easel in his haste to grab it. He knew you were an early riser, though he doubted you’d be awake even at this ungodly hour. He just hoped to whatever entity up in the clouds that you would pick up your phone and not start cussing him out for ruining your sleep. Though it was hard to imagine you getting mad at him for anything, as he knew you always had a bit of a soft spot for him.
To his relief, you answered on the fifth ring.
“Hello?” You murmured quietly, voice still sounding rough with sleep. Renjun could hear you smacking your lips sleepily, the mental image of it all eliciting a grin on his face. He wanted to know how you looked right now, with your impossibly cute bedhead and droopy eyes.
“Y/N? You awake?”
You yawned, the sound of rustling sheets accompanying your reply. “I am now, I guess. It’s… 4AM? What gives? You don’t normally wake this early. Unless…”
“Yup,” Renjun sighed, head hanging in defeat. “Kinda haven’t slept all night. The project isn’t coming along too well.”
“Aww,” you cooed. Renjun perked up a little at your tone.
Then, “Tough shit.”
Renjun flinched at that, staring wide-eyed at his phone before returning it to his ear. “Excuse me?”
“Well, if you hadn’t been goofing off the entire week before, you wouldn’t be in this mess, would you? Now excuse me… I have another two hours of sleep before my alarm is supposed to go off, so I’ll see you later! Peace,” was all you said before promptly hanging up.
The room was silent as Renjun stood in the middle of his room, shocked beyond all belief. Was that really you that he had just spoken to? Where was the kind, empathetic friend he had come to know and love? Perhaps lack of sleep really does change a person for the worse.
Undeterred by your rejection, Renjun decided to head over to your house anyway. Was he probably going to get his ass handed to him for disturbing you even more? Probably. Was he willing to face the consequences of your fiery wrath? Absolutely. Was he going to enjoy getting berated by you as he stared, lovestruck, at your cute pajamas and angry, puffy eyes? Undoubtedly.
Luckily, your house was only a few blocks away, although Renjun still ran all the way because he was (maybe, slightly, on a little bit) afraid of the dark. So what if he screamed a little when a cat jumped out of some trashcans? No one saw, and that was all that mattered.
He arrived at your place in record time, the dark window panes indicating that you were still, in fact, asleep. He tried opening the door to no avail, not being able to find the spare key you used to place under the mat. With no other option in sight, there was one last thing he could do…
Tap. Tap. Tap.
There was something tapping incessantly against your window for a couple minutes now. At first, you had ignored the sound completely, assuming that it was the first drops of rain before a storm. After a while, you began to realize that rain did not sound like that, and it reminded you more like a finger tapping or knocking. That was impossible though, because you lived on the second floor of a shared house. Surely, it wasn’t what you thought it was––
Before you could contemplate further, you phone started to ring for the second time that night, and the pieces of the puzzle immediately fall into place. It was him, that fucking bastard. Grumbling loudly, you grasped your phone against your ear, a chain of swears tumbling out of your lips quicker than any seasoned rapper out there.
“Wait, Y/N! Lemme explain—“
“Renjun, I swear if I go downstairs right now and find you throwing pebbles at my window to disrupt my sleep even further, you better believe I’m calling the cops on you, friend or not!”
“I just need yellow paint!” He cried out, loud enough that you can hear him from outside. You hiss at him to keep quiet, worried that his noise would also wake up your roommates.
“No, Renjun! You have to learn to be more responsible! You can’t always expect things to go your way without proper preparation! 4.0 GPA or not, I’m not letting you keep doing this––hold on,” you paused, stopping mid-sentence. There had been loud thunk just outside your bedroom wall. There was a suspicious lack of response on Renjun’s end, though you can hear his heavy breathing through the speakers. You slipped out of your covers, padding your way to the window. You peered over, squinting blearily at the darkness of the night.
“Renjun? What are you––“ You gasped before finishing, slamming open the windows and letting the cool breeze gently brush your face. The sight before you was not as great as the wind, though. “Are you fucking crazy? Stop climbing before you get hurt!”
“Almost there,” Renjun grunted, his hands grasping tightly on your ledge. You watched in stunned silence as the gangly boy hoisted himself over and into your bedroom with the ease of someone who had done that at least a few times before. It took you a while before you could find your bearings as you stood, mouth agape, at the beaming boy now standing before you with neon green paint on his cheek.
“Hey,” he greets, smiling.
It took all the energy in your body to keep your hand from meeting his cheek (either to caress him or to slap him? No one was for certain.) “You could’ve fucking died.”
Renjun lifted both his arms into the air and shook his legs around. He shot you a cheeky look, faking contemplativeness. “I feel pretty alive, I would say. All limbs in working order, as far as I know.”
Oh my god. You were friends with a maniac!
“This is so unlike you,” you said. “You’re never this relentlessly annoying.”
“Well, you wouldn’t let me finish my urgent plea on the phone, so of course I had to take drastic measures! I’m gonna fail this GPA booster course, and then I’ll die, and then it’ll be your fault!” He said in one breath, grin never faltering. As his gaze flitted around the room, he noticed your finished project, sitting on your desk and covered in plastic to hide its contents from the world. “Ooh, is that your submission? can I see?”
You rushed over to it, hiding it behind your back with a huff. “Absolutely not! You lost all privileges from me the moment you called me up at 4AM! Now get out of my house before I really call the cops.”
He pouted, deflating visibly. “Okay, look… I know I’m being a prick right now, but you really gotta help me! I ran out of yellow paint and you’re the only person who can help me!”
You were not sure why, but hearing that reason coming from Renjun of all people was making your blood boil in anger. He went all this way to your house, throwing pebbles out your window like some cliché romcom protagonist, even climbing up a building, just to ask for fucking yellow paint?!
“Are you hearing yourself, Huang Renjun? I’m going to kill you!” You grabbed a few of the still open paint tubes by your desk, squeezing its contents all over his clothes in a fit of rage. He gasped, crying out in anguish as globs of blue and red marred the cute little Moomins on his shirt.
“You did not just do that!” He yelled, slapping the paint out of your hands. You were pretty shocked yourself, though you can’t help but giggle a little at how flabbergasted he looked.
“That’s what you get for being ridiculous, you stupid shit––hey, stop! Put down that cup of paint water now before I––NO!”
Murky black water splashes down your left cheek and onto your pajamas, the gross, cold sensation making you splutter out indignantly at the smirking boy. “Oh my god, you absolute bastard!”
It did not take long for the argument to dissolve into a full-blown paint fight as the two of you sprayed each other with every bit of available art supply in your room. Paint, brushes, pens, and markers were launched into the air, both of you screaming in both anger and delight as you hit the other with every type of projectile imagineable.
Renjun jumped across the bed, searching your bedside table for more ammo once you managed to hoard most of them on your side. It didn’t take long for him to find one of your unopened bottles of yellow paint, and he hooted in victory as he held it up in the air like a trophy.
“Yes, I found it! Ceasefire, Y/N! I got what I wanted!”
“And you think I’m supposed to stop just because you’re happy?” You screeched back, readying a large amount of black paint on one of your paintbrushes like a makeshift catapult. “Drop that paint bottle if you wanna live, Renjun!”
It was in that moment when one of your roommates suddenly barged in to the scene, her entire being blazing with heat as she furiously accessed the room. There you were, paint dripping from every inch of your body, with a similarly painted boy on the other side of your bed with a little 50mL bottle of yellow paint in his open fist. No one made a sound for a moment, afraid to explain what the hell you both were doing, until––
“I’m not even going to ask. Just shut up before I get you evicted,” Yeri growled, slamming the door with the frame rattling in her wake.
“Oh god, she’s going to kill me tomorrow,” you moaned, dropping the paintbrush and dropping your head against your newly painted bed. Not looking at him, you pointed your finger in his general direction, forcing him to stop as he tried to covertly escape through the window. “Don’t you dare move another muscle. You are helping me clean my room before class, or so help me I’ll paint angry eyebrows on all your Moomin plushies.”
That got him moving to help you quickly, at least. With the two of you working together instead of fighting, you managed to get all your bedsheets into the washer and most of the paint splatters removed from your walls and floor in record time. Thankfully there wasn’t much damage on your room, as you and Renjun were the main casualties of the paint war.
While the two of you finished up, you hadn’t realized that the sun had already begun its approach into the sky, meaning that it was time to get ready for class.
“Shit, I won’t be able to shower in time,” you whined, fruitlessly picking at the paint clumping your hair together. You gave Renjun the evil eye, who had the decency to look sheepish at least.
“Wait, hold that thought,” he said, grasping your hand in his as he appraised you with an odd look. His brows were furrowed, thinking deeply as he traced the strokes of yellow and blue on your cheeks, all the way to your neck. His proximity made the blood rush to your face, and you hoped that the paint was doing a good job covering your flush.
It was an odd sensation, feeling so aware of your friend’s presence. You never noticed how cute he looked until that moment, when he was so focused and thoughtful like this. He had always looked handsome to you, but for whatever reason, the dash of red on the corner of his lip never looked more enticing than it did then.
After a bit more staring, he smiled softly at you, tucking a bit of your hair behind your ear with the sort of gentleness that you have come to associate with him. Your stupid, funny, smart, lovable Renjun. The only boy that you could never stay mad at.
“I think I have my submission for my art project right here,” he said, simply and honestly.
You giggled a bit, not quite understanding. “Well, you got the yellow paint, right? Shouldn’t you head home and try to finish your painting before class starts? You got a bit of time, I think.”
He shook his head, cupping your face like something to be held. Like something to be admired. There was something blooming inside your chest; a field of sunflowers, all of them reaching towards the light right in front of you.
The sun grinned at you, and the sunflowers rejoiced. “Nah. I think I’m good. More than good.”  
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