Chapter Text
Junmyeon has worked in the Special Collections department for the past decade, and before that, he worked at another library six counties over for a decade. He has worked at every library in the state of California, every library in the surrounding four states over the course of the past 150 years, and he enjoys his work. He does archival work for the University and manages the records which means, on good days, he doesn’t have to go outside during the daytime and more importantly, he doesn’t have to speak to many humans.
“You should come out with the librarians,” a coworker suggests, idly stirring at her coffee as she watches Junmyeon fix his own. “We never get to see you outside of work.”
“Yeah,” Junmyeon shrugs, smiling uncomfortably, “I’m not really a big people person.”
It isn’t a lie, he tells himself. He’s not a person at all. He is a son of the Circle of Red Light, he is immortal, and that is the reason that he is so bad at interacting with humans.
“Maybe someday,” the librarian says, and she shrugs her shoulder happily. “You never know!”
Junmyeon knows. He’s lived in the world for so long that he’s forgotten the feeling of humanity, so detached from it that it seems completely foreign to him. All he knows is his coven, and that’s all he wants to know.
⛧
His feelings on the matter change suddenly, as these things are wont to do. One afternoon in the middle of winter, the cold grey darkness leaking in from the windows, he is working on digitizing a selection of documents. It is calming work, second nature to him now, and he enjoys the warmth from the scanning bed. It reminds him a little of drinking. He sighs out, resting his gloved hands on the top as he works, gingerly working with the documents so as to best preserve them.
Then, the most delicious scent floods him. Strawberries… no, something sweeter. Sugar and… sugar and cherries. He closes his eyes, turns to meet it, thinking maybe someone brought pastries in.
Standing there is the most beautiful man Junmyeon’s ever laid eyes on. He is tall and lithe, a strong chest evident even through his bulky sweater, warm eyes obvious even behind his wire-rimmed glasses. His hair is crazy, sticking up in all different directions like he’s been running his hands through it, and his eyes are rimmed in red.
Junmyeon can smell so much on him, cigarettes and black coffee and sleepless nights, but it isn’t enough to mask his blood. Sugar. Cherries. Indelible sweetness.
“S-Sorry, I’m… I know I’m not supposed to be back here, but I talked to Marie up front and she said that I could use this scanner back here?” he says.
“I’m using the scanner at the moment,” Junmyeon says, and he turns back to his work, frowning at how mean he sounds. “Besides, this is strictly an archive faculty scanner. You can use the ones in the east wing.”
“R-Right, but all the ones in the east wing are either broken or being used,” the man says.
“Have you tried fixing the broken ones?”
“I don’t know how to fix a scanner,” the man says.
“It’s not hard,” Junmyeon answers.
The man smiles, and Junmyeon is momentarily struck by how beautiful he is as another wave of his scent pours out.
“I don’t think I’ll master that anytime soon,” he says. “Besides, if it’s so easy, why don’t you fix it?”
“That isn’t part of my job description,” Junmyeon answers. “I’m not paid to fix scanners for students.”
The man makes a noise, and it makes Junmyeon turn, look back over his shoulder. He is smiling at Junmyeon, and Junmyeon is extremely confused.
“Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t even… I’m Sehun. And I’m not just a student. I’m a teaching assistant.”
“Oh. Right, well,” Junmyeon says, and he turns back to his scanner, fiddling his fingers. “It will be a few minutes. If you’re in a rush, you could go over to the social science computing facility.”
“That’s okay,” Sehun says, and when Junmyeon checks on him again, he is sitting at the little table, crossing his legs, hands over his knee. “I have time.”
Junmyeon turns back to his scanner once more, puzzled by the draw that he feels towards Sehun. He is good at ignoring his more primal urges, and he finds easy sustenance on blood banks.
Sehun’s blood, though… it is singing to him.
“So you’re a librarian?” Sehun asks. “That’s cool.”
“I’m not a librarian,” Junmyeon says. “I’m an archivist.”
“Right, right,” Sehun says. “Still, that’s cool. What are you scanning?”
“Documents.”
“What kind of documents?”
“T-They’re historical documents,” Junmyeon answers.
“Is it a secret or something?” Sehun asks.
“No,” Junmyeon says.
“Are you just, like, a little weird?” Sehun asks, and Junmyeon looks back, mildly horrified to see that Sehun is smiling at him. “Too little sun in here?” Junmyeon turns back to his scanner. “Ah, that’s okay. I like ‘em weird.”
“It’s… It’s a fragment collection. Medieval manuscripts. This is… this is a leaf from a liturgical book. Hosea 6:2-6:6 and Zephaniah 3:8-3:13,” Junmyeon says, shocked to hear himself give so much information without further prodding. “You really shouldn’t be back here when I’m working.”
“I’m telling you, Marie said it was okay,” Sehun says. “So, is that what you do in a day? Scan documents?”
“A-And manage the records,” Junmyeon says. He narrows his eyes. “Don’t you have a class to teach?”
Sehun checks his phone. “Not for another half hour.”
“Plenty of time to get to the Lane reading room,” Junmyeon says.
“But now I’ve found something so interesting,” Sehun says. “Something worth sticking around for.”
The words stick in Junmyeon’s heart like a stake, and he blinks, the sound deafening to his ears. He swallows thickly just as the machine beeps, letting him know his work is complete.
Junmyeon hurriedly moves the manuscripts out of the scanning bed, stuffing everything under his arm, moving past Sehun. “Clean up when you’re finished.”
Even once he is back in his office, sorting through more of his records for access, he can’t seem to get the smell of sugar-dipped cherries out of his nose, out of his mind.
⛧
He gets back home to the coven, and he kicks off his shoes, looking for a little sympathy for his challenging day.
Junmyeon doesn’t know what he was thinking.
“You can’t keep blaming your antisocial, practically agoraphobic behavior on your vampiric nature,” Baekhyun says, absently painting his nails with a clear coat. “You have plenty of brethren here who are perfectly adept at socializing.”
“I guess I missed that class,” Junmyeon says, collapsing into the plush couch cushions.
They live in Palo Alto, a sprawling penthouse condo that Baekhyun and Jongdae gagged over. The hardwood floors are exotic, dark tigerwood, Brazilian walnut, and cypress. The kitchen and the bathrooms are natural stone, slate-grey and smooth. The fixtures are brand new, top of the line, and each room was meticulously handled and designed, bleeding luxury from every pore. Junmyeon sits, stares out the window, pitch black, and sighs wistfully.
“What have we told you about the sighing?” Jongdae says, voice echoing from the other room.
“Not to do it,” Junmyeon says.
“Hard day in the stacks?” Baekhyun asks, raising a brow.
“No, I just… I don’t know,” Junmyeon says. “I met someone… strange.”
“You met someone?” Jongdae screeches. “Chanyeol, he met someone.”
A split second later, Chanyeol is vaulting over the couch, flopping next to Junmyeon on the couch. “You met someone?”
“Not like that,” Junmyeon says. “I didn’t meet him, I just met him.”
“A him,” Jongdae says excitedly, and he waltzes in from the kitchen, a bag of blood in his hand like a juice box. “A him!”
“Tell us everything,” Baekhyun says, capping the nail polish before gesturing with it, “or we’ll decapitate you.”
“It’s really nothing.”
“When he threatens decapitation, he means it,” Jongdae says. “Don’t fucking start with us. We’ll get Jongin, Minseok, and Yixing over in a fucking heartbeat, and you know that we will. I have no problem killing a brother over something petty, and you know that about me.”
“He just needed to use a scanner,” Junmyeon says. “It was nothing.”
“Stanford has approximately eight million scanners, and he needed to use yours,” Chanyeol says. “Are you sure use your scanner isn’t code for fuck your tight little ass?”
“This is exhausting,” Junmyeon says. “I’m going to bed.”
“You don’t need to sleep,” Jongdae says.
“Yeah, we’re vampires,” Chanyeol smiles.
“Well, regardless, I’m going to my bed, and I’m gonna stay there until the memory of this day eludes all of us.”
“You’re truly no fun,” Baekhyun sighs.
“What did they tell me about sighing?” Junmyeon needles.
“Not to do it,” Baekhyun answers.
“So shouldn’t that rule be applied to you too?”
“No,” Baekhyun answers easily, “I’m normal.”
Junmyeon rolls his eyes, but by the time he gets back to his room simply to escape the constant yammering of his brethren, he realizes that maybe Baekhyun’s right. He can’t seem to shake the scent, can’t seem to forget about the sleep-deprived TA, but he also can’t seem to imagine a world in which anything could possibly happen between them.
⛧
The next morning, Junmyeon is adjusting the collar of his sweater, fixing the strap of his laptop bag when he inhales that familiar scent. Sehun. Sehun.
He looks up, laser-focused as he attempts to locate the source. It only takes Junmyeon a moment, and there he is, sitting at one of the field reading tables. He’s got his glasses pushed up onto his head, a big scarf wrapped around his neck as he twirls a pencil in his hand. He looks tired, but still excruciatingly handsome. Junmyeon swallows thickly as he adjusts his laptop on his shoulder, walking over and staring down at Sehun until he looks up.
“Good morning,” Sehun says sunnily, belying the exhaustion in his eyes, in his scent. “Just the archivist I wanted to see.”
“W-What are you doing here?” Junmyeon asks.
“I paged some materials,” Sehun answers. “What are you doing here?”
“I work here,” Junmyeon says.
“Technically, I do too!” Sehun says, tilting his head to the side. “That’s something we have in common, right, Junmyeon?”
Junmyeon makes a quiet noise of distress. “I guess.” He thinks about it for a moment. “Wait, how do you know my name?”
“I asked Marie,” Sehun smiles. “Is that bad? Should I not have asked?”
“Y-You’re free to do as you wish.” Junmyeon nods down at the manuscript laid flat across the table. “Good luck with your work.”
“Thanks,” Sehun says, and he begins to tap away at his laptop before looking over at Junmyeon again, clearing his throat before smiling handsomely. “Could I buy you coffee sometime?”
“W—Coffee? For what?”
“Your help with the scanning,” Sehun says.
“I didn’t help you.”
“You’re not good at this, are you?” Sehun smiles. “I want to buy you coffee. Do you like coffee?”
“I… I like sweet things,” Junmyeon confesses suddenly.
“Tonight, maybe?” Sehun asks.
“N-No,” Junmyeon says, and he shakes his head. “I’m busy.”
He hurries away, annoyed and frustrated with himself. Surely, that will be enough to drive Sehun away.
⛧
“He asked you out, and you said no?” Minseok asks. He swirls the blood in his glass, kicks one leg over the other. “I don’t understand you.”
“He’s a kid,” Junmyeon says. “He’s a human man, and he’s—”
“And he’s beautiful,” Baekhyun gasps, and he turns his phone to Jongdae and Minseok, pointing at Sehun’s perfect visage. “Listen, if you don’t hit it, slit it, and quit it, then I will.”
“I am not hitting, slitting, and quitting anything,” Junmyeon says, folding his legs up on the couch, “so feel free.” Junmyeon leans over, looks at Baekhyun’s phone, sees Sehun at a lectern, looking well-rested for a change. “How did you get this picture?”
“He’s in the Masters of Philosophy program,” Baekhyun says, and he begins to scroll through some kind of article. “He was the youngest speaker at the Williamson symposium, and he was shortlisted for the Granter Prize for his speech… holy shit, this kid is no joke. Nor Any More Heaven or Hell: the Eternal Self, the Mortal Soul, and the Intersections of Physical Place and Emotional Home.”
“That sounds like nothing,” Chanyeol says.
“You’ve been alive for six hundred years, and still, philosophy and literary analysis means nothing to you?” Yixing asks.
“Correct. Maybe I’ll catch it next millennia,” Chanyeol says, and he makes grabby hands for the decanter. “Anymore of the good shit left?”
“O negative,” Baekhyun says, and he swishes the blood in his glass like he’s a sommelier, sticking his nose into the glass to take a sniff. “Notes of roses and black pepper. And maybe… citrus on the edge? A delicate thrust of lemon? A jizz of limoncello?”
“Ew,” Chanyeol says, but he pours himself a glass anyway. “Point is, the man is beautiful. And he’s a Master’s student. He’s plenty old enough.”
“I’m nearly four hundred,” Junmyeon frowns.
“Personally, I find human vampire relationships romantic,” Jongin smiles, and he clutches his wine glass a little tighter to his body. “The draw between natural and supernatural, mortal and immortal…”
Jongin trails off, lies his head on Baekhyun’s shoulder. Junmyeon closes his eyes, tries to imagine himself in a position like that with someone. With Sehun.
“Ah, I think I’m done for the night,” Junmyeon says just as he starts to feel the blood lust go to his head.
“No, we just started,” Yixing cries, “come on, stay for another glass.”
“He’s gonna go jerk it to the TA,” Baekhyun says knowingly.
“I’m going to go do some research,” Junmyeon says.
“Research on how to talk to a boy,” Chanyeol snorts.
The laughter of the coven follows him back to his room, and he buries his head in his arms once he’s sitting at his desk, wondering if there’s any way he could ever seduce someone as beautiful, as human as Sehun.
⛧
Junmyeon ponders the question well into the morning, during his commute, through to the moment he is about to walk into his office.
Sitting there fast asleep, head lolled back against the door, is Sehun. He’s got an iced coffee between his pretzeled legs, and he is sleeping gently, breaths deep and long. Junmyeon stands there and watches him for a minute, shaking himself from the reverie when he realizes how cliche he is being.
He nudges Sehun with the toe of his boot, fixing the scarf around his neck, but when it does not rouse him, Junmyeon nudges him with a bit more force.
Sehun wakes slowly, looking around with bemusement before he lays eyes on Junmyeon’s face. The smile dawns across his face, and Junmyeon frowns down at him.
“You’re sleeping in front of my office,” Junmyeon says.
“Sorry, I… I guess I’m kinda tired,” Sehun smiles, and he grabs his coffee from between his legs, takes a large sip.
“You should sleep more,” Junmyeon advises. “You should stay away from caffeine too.”
“Probably.” Sehun looks Junmyeon up and down. “You look nice today.”
Junmyeon pulls at the hem of his sweater. “Thank you. You look tired.”
“Traditionally, the response is You look nice too.”
“I’m not especially traditional,” Junmyeon frowns. “Could you let me into my office?”
Sehun makes a noise of surprise before getting to his feet quickly, holding his coffee in two hands. Junmyeon furrows his brow, shoves the feeling of affection deep down inside himself as he unlocks his office.
He goes in, about to shut the door, but Sehun is staring at him with wide eyes, clutching his iced coffee and pouting. Junmyeon sighs, lets him in.
Junmyeon sits at his desk, logs onto his desktop, and turns in his chair. Sehun is just standing there, sipping his coffee.
“What are you doing here?” Junmyeon asks. “Don’t you have, like, a class to get to?”
“Not until six,” Sehun says.
“It’s eight-thirty.”
“I’ve got some time to kill.”
“And you’re killing it here?” Junmyeon asks.
“Ideally,” Sehun smiles.
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” Sehun says. “Just kind of… like you.”
Furious heat rises up in Junmyeon’s throat, the kind of raw heat he distantly remembers from when he was first turned. It claws at him, and he reaches up. There is no blood in him, so the warmth must be imaginary, but still… he can feel it like it’s real.
“Why would you… you don’t even know me,” Junmyeon says, and he turns around in his chair, faces his computer as it boots up.
“No, but like, sometimes you just get a feeling, right?” Junmyeon bites his lip, feels Sehun’s eyes on the back of his neck. “Like, you just kinda get this gut feeling, right? A draw to someone… someone you just have to get to know better.”
Junmyeon begins to navigate his programs on his computer, so he has something to do with his hands, something to distract him from the fact that he knows exactly what Sehun means.
⛧
Sehun sits in Junmyeon’s office until he needs to leave for a meeting over lunch, and he asks Junmyeon a hundred questions about Junmyeon’s work, about Junmyeon’s life, about Junmyeon’s friends. Junmyeon answers them as best he can, shocked and confused that someone as beautiful as Sehun is interested in him, especially when he is… well, the way he is.
“I should go,” Sehun says, chucking his coffee cup into Junmyeon’s trash can before he stands up. “Maybe, uh, maybe we could hang out again sometime soon?”
Junmyeon frowns. “Yes. I would… I would like that.”
“Wait, really?” Sehun asks.
“Y-Yes,” Junmyeon says. “If that’s… if you don’t mind.”
Sehun fumbles for his phone, starts poking at it, and then suddenly, he’s shoving it into Junmyeon’s hands. He stares down at the display, sees junmyeon, hot archivist listed in the contact name field, and he looks back up at Sehun.
“Sorry, I like to be really specific,” Sehun smiles.
Junmyeon frowns. How is this ever going to work out?
He keys in his phone number before sending Sehun on his way.
⛧
Junmyeon has no idea what to do, so he goes to the coven.
“So… you’ve come to the master,” Baekhyun says, arms spread wide along the back of the couch.
“Jongdae,” Junmyeon calls.
“I’m coming,” Jongdae says.
“Wait, stop, stop,” Baekhyun cries. “I was your first choice!”
“Jongin was actually my first pick, but he’s busy at the bank,” Junmyeon says.
“Still,” Baekhyun smiles, especially proud of himself, “first is the worst, second is the best!”
“Minseok was second,” Junmyeon says.
“Third?” Baekhyun whispers hopefully.
“Jongdae’s in the other room, and I didn’t wanna bother him,” Junmyeon shrugs. “I know he’s busy with that ridiculous Lego set.”
“It’s not Legos,” Jongdae screams. “It’s a highly detailed model of the 1941 IJN Nagato at 1/350th of the scale!”
“Yeah,” Junmyeon says, “he’s busy with that.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter what number I am,” Baekhyun says, waving his hand. “I’m the one making time for you. Remember that when it comes to bitedays, okay?”
“You have more money than God, what could you possibly want me to buy you?”
Baekhyun shrugs, pouting. “Just want a little surprise from my favorite brother.”
Junmyeon rolls his eyes. “Do you wanna hear my problem, or no?”
“Is it a boy problem? A boy problem that potentially revolves around a handsome motherfucker named Sehun?”
“I can call Yixing,” Junmyeon threatens.
“What about Chanyeol?” Baekhyun grins.
“Did someone say my name?” Chanyeol screeches.
“No,” they say in unison.
“So, what’s up?” Baekhyun continues. “What’s wrong with the boy?”
“I think I… like him.”
Baekhyun’s eyes go stupidly wide, and it makes Junmyeon want to run, head for the hills, take up residence on some forgotten island instead of sitting here, being gawked at.
“Wait, like, seriously?” Baekhyun asks. “I thought you didn’t like the idea.”
“I am coming around to it,” Junmyeon says, twisting his hands in front of his body.
“As in? Give me specifics to work with here. Did you bite him in a bathroom stall?”
“God, no,” Junmyeon says. “Don’t be crazy.”
“Then, what?”
“I gave him my… phone number,” Junmyeon confesses.
“God, if I didn’t know for a fact that you’ve had sex before, I would think you were a virgin,” Baekhyun smiles.
“Shut up, this isn’t helpful.”
“You’re right,” Baekhyun says. “This isn’t a job for one man. We need the coven.”
⛧
An emergency meeting is called, and Junmyeon puts on a hoodie so big he can feel himself being swallowed by it.
“He’s so shy,” Jongin smiles, pulling the hood down away from Junmyeon’s face. “Hello.”
“Hi.”
“Okay, first, we should text him back,” Baekhyun says, and he pokes through Junmyeon’s phone, reading the text allowed. “Hey, I was thinking coffee tomorrow after you get off work. Sound good?”
“He’s got a way with words,” Jongin sighs, glass of blood between his hands like a schoolgirl.
“I think you should go simple,” Jongdae says, and he waves his glass in the air in a rainbow. “Sounds good.”
“Where’s the wanton passion?” Baekhyun asks. “Where’s the pizzazz?”
“Where’s the declaration that you’re gonna suck his dick after you make him completely flaccid?” Chanyeol asks, and everyone stares at him. “You know, because of the blood loss? It’s not because he doesn’t like it! God!”
“A vote,” Yixing suggests. “All in favor of simplicity over… what was it?”
“Drama, panache, and intrigue,” Baekhyun fills in.
“Right, all in favor of simplicity over that?” Yixing asks. Jongdae, Yixing, Jongin, and Minseok all raise their hands. “And all in favor of the opposite?” Baekhyun and Chanyeol’s hands shoot up. “Right, so it looks like we’re going simple.”
Baekhyun struggles as Yixing reaches over to wrestle the phone away from him, and Junmyeon laughs when Yixing inevitably prevails.
“There,” Yixing says. “It’s a date.”
The words make Junmyeon’s stomach twist nervously.
“What now?” Minseok asks, and he takes a sip of his blood. “I mean, seems like a done deal.”
“Now,” Baekhyun stresses, “we teach him how to be a vampire.”
“I am a vampire already,” Junmyeon says.
“Not like that,” Baekhyun says, and he raises his arm up over his mouth like he’s holding a cape. “Like this.”
“You look like you’re about to cough,” Yixing snorts.
“I’m being seductive, okay?” Baekhyun says. “Everyone shut up.”
“Okay, step one,” Jongdae says. “Ignore everything Baekhyun says.”
“No, step one,” Baekhyun says. “Wear cute clothes.”
“My clothes are—”
“Meant for work,” Baekhyun says. “You need sex clothes.”
“Isn’t the point of sex to lose the clothes?” Jongdae asks.
“Stop making this harder than it’s supposed to be!” Chanyeol says, and he turns to Junmyeon. “He’s right. Wear clothes that are your size.”
“I can lend you something,” Baekhyun suggests.
“Make sure you ask about his life,” Jongin says, eyes sparkling. “And be interested in the things he’s interested in!”
“Show your fangs,” Baekhyun says. “That always gets people hot.”
“Do not show your fangs,” Minseok says. “Not at least until you tell him.”
“Tell him as soon as you get in,” Chanyeol suggests. “Up front. Open.”
“Hide it for as long as vampirely possible, and then spring it on him,” Baekhyun says, eyes wide with blood lust.
“This is bad advice,” Jongdae says, and he takes Junmyeon’s hand in his. “Just be yourself.”
“I’m awful,” Junmyeon says, “that’s why we’re doing this.”
“Then be someone else?” Jongdae tries.
“Oh, that’s good!” Baekhyun says, bouncing in his seat. “That’s good! That’s good!”
“Yeah,” Chanyeol says. “Pretend like you are a more handsome, more put-together version of yourself!”
“Be someone who is suave,” Jongdae says, hand on his chin. “Someone who can sweep a human off their feet.”
“Be daring,” Baekhyun says. “Be edgy.”
“Just be cool,” Yixing says.
“It’s not that easy,” Junmyeon says.
“Fake it ‘til you make it,” Yixing shrugs. “That’s what everyone does.”
⛧
He intends to walk to Coupa on his own, give himself some time to collect his thoughts and prepare, become the person he wants to be, but Sehun is sitting in front of his office, a cup of iced coffee in his hand.
“W-What are you doing?” Junmyeon asks. “You already have coffee.”
“Always need more coffee,” Sehun says, and he leaps to his feet. “I was waiting for you.”
They walk in near silence as they go to the cafe, and Junmyeon frantically tries to get into character. Smooth, suave, seductive. He repeats the words in his head until they sink in, and by the time they get to the coffee shop, he feels like he’s ready to embody them.
“Large regular coffee, black, and a Caramel Macchiato Frap,” Sehun orders, and he turns to Junmyeon, smiling. “Good?”
“Good,” Junmyeon smiles, and he bumps his hip into Sehun’s, eliciting a noise of surprise.
Once their order is filled, they sit with their drinks, and Junmyeon leans forward, pulling his scarf down to reveal some of his neck. He smiles at Sehun, watches him suck in a confused breath.
“So,” Junmyeon says, and he tries to keep smiling even as the nerves surge within him, “how are you?”
“I’m doing well, how are you?” Sehun asks.
“I’m doing very well,” Junmyeon says, “now that I’m with you.”
“W-Wait, what’s going on?” Sehun smiles.
“What?”
“You’re acting… funny,” Sehun says, head ticking to the side like he’s trying to make sense of things. “What’s up?”
“Nothing,” Junmyeon says. “Quickly. Nothing’s up.” Sehun stares at him blankly. “What?”
“I may not know you that well, I may not, like, know all your deepest secrets and everything, I may not know your favorite song or whatever, but come on. I know you,” Sehun says. “Why are you acting funny? Is it because you’re just humoring me?”
“N-No, I just… I’m not good with people,” Junmyeon says, and he stares at his fingernails, squeezing the mug in his hands. “I was trying to be… be more interesting. Be better at—”
“At being?” Junmyeon looks up, and Sehun’s brows are pulled together, and he looks at Junmyeon with sympathy. “I like you just the way you are. I like the way you hide in your office. I like that you’re quiet. I like that you… that you have a lot of thoughts, and you’re not ready to share them just yet.” He breathes in, shuts his eyes, and God, he is perfect. “You don’t have to try to be someone else. I mean, honestly, I would prefer that you didn’t.”
He smiles, and he sticks out his hands, lays them open. The option is there, and for a minute, Junmyeon just stares at him, at Sehun’s hand.
Junmyeon lets go of his coffee cup, puts his hands in Sehun’s.
“So, we can give this a shot?” Sehun asks.
Junmyeon thinks for a moment, lets the questions consume him. What if it goes badly? What if he doesn’t believe me? What if he doesn’t like me after I tell him? What if we break up? What if? What if?
He closes his eyes, and he thinks of the coven. Always there to support him. Always there to try and help.
“Yeah,” Junmyeon says. “We can try.”