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There are certain expectations in the family. Junmyeon is so familiar with those expectations that they begin to feel like old clothes, tucked away in boxes in the back of his closet.
“Just because we are aware of the standards our parents have for us doesn’t necessarily mean we have to accept them as a moral good,” his sister comments from her position on his bed, swiping through her phone boredly.
“You’re looking for an acceptable boyfriend through a dating app as we speak,” Junmyeon comments.
“I’m critical of the system,” his sister says, “not stupid.”
Junmyeon smiles. He loves his parents. He wouldn’t change anything about them. There is nothing in the world that he cherishes more than the bond they share. Still, he can understand where his sister is coming from. She’s under more scrutiny than he is, so he feels for her.
He lays next to her on the bed, the moon streaming through his window, and he nestles himself close to her. “Find anyone good?”
“Not even close,” she says, and she pauses her search on a man holding a relatively large fish. “What about this picture says Date me, I wonder?”
“Nothing,” Junmyeon says.
“Exactly.”
He shoves his shoulder into hers with a laugh, and she bumps him back. They continue to scroll for a few minutes, occasionally pausing to comment on song choices, listed occupations, or curious photo inclusions.
“Why on Earth do people post shirtless pictures?” his sister asks.
“It’s like free samples at Costco,” he says. “Gotta entice them a bit.”
“Nice abs are so overrated anyway,” she says. And she flips to the next man, a frankly gorgeous individual going by the name Kai. “See, now… this is something. He is something.”
Something, indeed. Junmyeon stares in awe as she swipes through each picture on his profile: soft lighting, eyes like amber in the sun, a casual hand in his hair, a bright white smile… it’s all a little too much to bear. She navigates to the written component of his profile where he enthuses about his love of old poetry, sweet tea, and bird-watching, of all things.
He is perfect, Junmyeon thinks. No, he’s flawless.
She closes her app. Junmyeon’s mouth hangs open stupidly with shock.
“Um, what the fuck are you doing?” Junmyeon says. “You have to go match with him! He’s perfect!”
“Are you kidding?” she says. “He’s way too hot for me, and I have no interest in being rejected by anyone besides potential employers. Pass.”
“Stop, come on.”
“You come on.”
“Shut up, are you kidding? You’re my sister. We have the same genetics,” Junmyeon says, and he gestures to his face. “Look at me. I’m handsome.”
“You are so self-absorbed,” she says. She tosses her phone onto his bed. “Can I grab a shower? I feel gross. All those men… I dunno, just leaves me feeling greasy.”
“Fair enough,” he says. “Clean towels in the closet. I think you left a bottle of your special conditioner too. You know, last time you stayed over.”
“Cool,” she says, and she gets up, padding out of his bedroom without another word. She calls back through the hall. “Thanks!”
Junmyeon lies there, staring aimlessly for a second. A second later, though, he picks up her phone. Opens the app back up. Reads all about Kai.
Looking for someone who won’t run at the first sign of my truly worrying trash television obsession, someone who leaps at every opportunity for takeout or coffee, and someone who wouldn’t mind spending an afternoon in a library. I would prefer that all these someones were one and the same, but beggars on dating apps can’t be choosers.
He sighs to himself. How could she let someone so lovely go? How could she be so naive? Doesn’t she know that men like this don’t come around every millennium, let alone every day? She’s letting something like starlight slip through her stupid fingers.
Junmyeon is nothing if not a nosey bitch who avoids minding his business at all cost, so instead of letting her waste a wonder, he swipes, watching as the delightful little Matched! animation springs forth. He smiles. He knew it. His sister is beautiful, just like him. This guy would have to be a fool not to want a chance with her. And Junmyeon could tell from his About section: Kai is no fool.
Suddenly, Junmyeon is thrust into a very precarious situation.
Kai messages.
He nearly fumbles the phone to the bed as he struggles to respond to the simple greeting, Hey, what’s up? spread underneath his gorgeous, stupidly good face. Junmyeon tries to figure out what his options are: respond as if he’s his sister? Unmatch before she sees?
He waffles over the questions long enough that his sister barges back into the room, her hair tucked up neatly into a towel, her pajamas on.
“What are you doing?” she asks, clearly suspicious.
“What are you talking about?”
“You have that look on your face,” she says, “the look that means that you’re in trouble.”
“I’m not in trouble.”
“What are you doing with my phone?” she asks. “Hm?”
Junmyeon hides it under his blankets. “Nothing.”
“Oh, you are so completely dead,” she says, and she vaults forward, tackling him on the bed.
They wrestle back and forth for several moments before she gets his arm pinned back and he has to tap out. He is a little ashamed of how easy it is for her, but she’s always been the tougher of the two of them.
“I yield, I yield,” he screeches, and as he rolls over onto his back huffing and puffing, she takes her phone with a small noise of satisfaction. “You’re horrible.”
“I’m horrible,” she says, turning the display towards him. “And what exactly is this, huh?”
“I was just looking out for your best interests,” Junmyeon says. “You can’t let opportunities of a lifetime slip away.”
“I will kill you,” she says and she looks back at the display, Kai’s message to her. “But… oh my God, I kinda can’t believe we matched? This is crazy.”
“I told you, you have to have more confidence in yourself,” he smiles. “I hope you and him are very happy together.”
“Oh, I’m not texting him back,” she laughs. “Absolutely not.”
“What? Why not?”
“Because nothing good can come from such a handsome man,” she says. “Either I fall in love and he breaks my heart, or I fall in love, he does too, and then he breaks my heart later.”
“Who’s to say you wouldn’t break his heart?” Junmyeon asks.
“Uh, look at him,” she says. “What am I, an idiot?”
“Stop, oh my God.”
“What? I’m serious.”
Junmyeon flops onto his back, staring at his ceiling. His sister flops down next to him, and he stares at her. He rolls his eyes, and he socks her in the shoulder.
The rest of the evening, Junmyeon finds it relatively easy to move past the topic of love and arrangement. On the edge of sleep, though, his sister lying next to him, his mind’s eye conjures a picture of Kai’s face. Handsome. Kind. He wonders what it might be like if he was able… to have someone like that. To seek out what he really wanted.
∇
Junmyeon goes about his days the way a normal person would, not necessarily thinking about what everyone else has got up their sleeves. He and his sister are out at brunch the following weekend, and he spots her sneakily texting beneath the table. She looks up at him as he sips at his coffee, giving her a look.
“Uh, what?”
“Who the hell are you texting so enthusiastically?” Junmyeon asks. “Last weekend you were on a dating app, and now—”
“Kai,” she says. “Well, Jongin.”
“Jongin,” Junmyeon says. “Nice name.”
“Yeah,” she says. “He’s really cool.”
“Good,” he says. “I’m glad you two are getting along. I feel like Mom and Dad would like him.”
“Yeah, he’s pretty cool. Like, ideal guy.” She sets her phone down, and she goes back to her eggs. “I gave him your number.”
It hits Junmyeon like a freight train.
“What? Why?”
She shrugs. “You seemed interested in him.”
“For you,” he clarifies. “For you.”
“Because you’re just such a kind-hearted individual,” she drones, slicing cleanly through her toast. “A respectful older brother who wants nothing but what’s best for me.”
“Yes, exactly,” Junmyeon says. “What are you not understanding here?”
“You forget that I know you,” she says. “Like, I’ve known you for twenty-four years now. I know what you’re like. I know your little micro-expressions.”
“Micro-expressions,” he says, touching his face absently. “I don’t have those.”
“Yes, you do,” she laughs. “I can tell when you like someone. When you wish you could date them.”
He frowns. “Shut up.”
“Shut up? I just set you up,” she says. “Are you kidding? This is the thanks I get?”
“You did not set me up,” Junmyeon says. “He’s not gay. He’s on a straight person app.”
“As if there’s only gay or straight,” she says. “God, aren’t you supposed to be, like, the open-minded one?”
“I don’t know,” Junmyeon says. “I don’t know anything, I guess.”
“You should text him back.” She nods towards his phone sitting on the table, and Junmyeon watches as the display lights up with an unfamiliar number and a short greeting. “Don’t say anything I wouldn’t say.”
“No, I'm not doing this,” Junmyeon says. “Absolutely nothing good could come from this, remember? And besides, it would be completely weird knowing that he matched with you first.”
“Whatever, fine,” she says, “wallow in misery for the rest of your life. I’m gonna get set up with some rich doctor with a yacht, by the way. Enjoy, like, whatever or whoever you end up with.”
Junmyeon frowns. He’s not exactly in the business of denying himself simple pleasures, but this is different. This is… this is someone. And sure, he’s dated before, he’s gone out, but even from the very beginning, this seems different. This is not something he could do quietly. This is someone who he would love loudly.
Jongin seems like marriage material, and Junmyeon isn’t someone he could marry.
“Hey,” his sister says, her expression shifted completely, “it’s okay if you don’t wanna. Like, if you’re not interested or whatever.”
“That’s the problem,” Junmyeon says. “I am interested.”
She frowns, and he feels guilty that he’s passed this onto her. It’s not her burden to carry. It’s his. He should shoulder the weight of it alone.
“You should at least text him back,” she says softly. “I mean, there’s nothing wrong with texting someone, right? It’s not like it means anything.”
“Yeah,” Junmyeon says. “Plus I’m sure you went through a lot of effort.”
“Yeah, exactly,” she says, and she kicks him gently under the table. “So you should be nice about it.”
“Thank you,” he says. “I do actually appreciate it.”
“Funny way of showing it!” she says.
Once he gets home, he worries over what to say, eyes moving over Jongin's introductory text.
Sorry if this is weird, but your sister told me it would be okay if I said hello, Jongin writes. So. Hello.
Hi, Junmyeon writes back, nervous hands shaking, It’s not weird.
No? Good, Jongin writes, and Junmyeon leans back as a few more texts come through. She’s really nice. And she really seems to love you.
I’m a highly lovable individual, Junmyeon writes.
So I’ve heard.
Junmyeon stomach flips over with giddiness, and he desperately tries to formulate a witty retort, something to keep Jongin on the hook for at least a little while.
∇
Junmyeon looks at his phone a lot more often these days, ever since he started talking to Jongin. They are out at lunch, him, his mom, and his sister, and he shoves his phone into his pocket after he’s been caught staring at it for the third time.
“You’re distracted,” his mother says. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Junmyeon promises. “Sorry.”
“No apology necessary,” she smiles. “How’s work going, anyway?”
And Junmyeon can’t find it in him to do anything but love her. He will rise to their expectations, no matter how he feels on the inside. What he feels doesn’t matter. They’ve done so much for him, they love him so dearly… it’s the least he can do.
His sister gives him a look, squinting and angry, and she corners him later once they’ve dropped their mother back off at home, his sister lingering in his car.
“When are you planning on meeting in person?” his sister asks.
“Uh, never,” Junmyeon says. “Nothing good could come of us meeting.”
“You’re fucking insane, by the way.”
“How am I insane?”
“You like him, obviously,” she says. “What would be the harm in meeting up? Getting something to eat? Doing something fun? You know, being a normal human being with normal human emotions?”
“Shut up,” Junmyeon says. “You could never understand where I’m coming from.”
“I’m a daughter,” she says flatly. “You could never understand.”
“I’m gay,” he says.
“Woman trumps gay,” his sister informs him.
“Oh, really?”
“Yep.”
“Must have missed that ranking,” he says. “My apologies.”
She rolls her eyes. “What I’m saying to you is that, like, yeah, I do get it.” She holds him by the shoulder, looking into his eyes. “I get it more than most people would. But there’s nothing wrong with wanting something. Just a little bit, you know?”
“Y-Yeah,” he says weakly. “I’m just scared that once I have a little bit, I won’t be able to stop myself from wanting more.”
“Cross that bridge when you get to it,” she advises. “Maybe this guy is a bad kisser.”
His stomach turns, and he shoves her away playfully. She gets out of the car a second later, heading back to the house, and he chews at his bottom lip, his phone buzzing with a notification from Jongin.
∇
There’s no harm in going out to dinner. He goes out to dinner with friends all the time, he reasons. What could possibly go wrong in a situation so clearly platonic?
“Wow,” Jongin says, sitting down across from him, “you look beautiful.”
He’s completely fucked.
“Oh, stop,” Junmyeon says, and he scoots his chair in a little closer to the table, hanging onto the edge of it like he’s trying to hold onto a lifeboat or something.
“Why?” Jongin says. “Haven’t I said as much via text?”
He has, but that isn’t the point.
“What is the point, then?” Jongin wonders.
“It feels different when you say it out loud,” Junmyeon says.
“Better or worse?”
“Both,” Junmyeon confesses.
“My evil plan unfurls,” Jongin smiles, and he is every bit as beautiful as he looked in pictures. But now he’s real, real and breathing and blushing red and gold. “What’s that face for, hm?”
“I don’t have a face,” Junmyeon says. “I mean, technically I have a face, but if we’re talking about, like, a particular expression? I don’t have a face. I am being very neutral right now.”
“Uh-huh,” Jongin says. “If this is neutral, I would hate to see you spiraling or going through a manic episode.”
“I’m normal,” Junmyeon assures him, and he grabs for one of the menus, giving it a once over. “I’m very normal.”
“You know, the way normal people talk,” Jongin says and he reaches across the table suddenly, his hand wrapping over Junmyeon’s. The warmth, the softness… it’s almost too much to bear. He looks into Jongin’s eyes, innumerable magics within him. “It’s cool, right? No big deal.”
“Yeah,” Junmyeon says and he takes a deep breath. “No big deal.”
Jongin gives Junmyeon’s hand a squeeze before he lets go, grabbing for his own menu. “I’ve heard the salmon is good here, but you know, feel free to get what you want. It’s on me.”
His heart hammers in his chest, but he sips water, the slip of cool moving down his neck. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Let’s just say you’ll get me back next time,” Jongin smiles.
“What, you want to do this again?” Junmyeon asks. “We just got here. How could you possibly know whether or not you want a second…” and he hesitates over the word date, “outing?”
Jongin laughs, high-pitched. Stupid. Wonderful. “I know what I like,” he says. He nudges Junmyeon with the toe of his shoe underneath the table. “You know what you like. Right?”
You, Junmyeon’s brain helplessly screams.
“Yeah,” he says.
“Good,” Jongin praises, and he unfolds a napkin into his lap. “So, is there… you know, anything you want to know about me before you decide to run for the hills?”
“Well, I think I know everything I need to know,” Junmyeon says. “Two sisters and a brother.”
“Correct,” Jongin says.
“Grad student,” Junmyeon notes. “Literature.”
“Correct.”
“Really beautiful,” Junmyeon says.
“Ah,” Jongin says, “you are a sweetheart, aren’t you?”
“I try,” Junmyeon says.
“You’re just as beautiful, you know,” Jongin says.
Jongin doesn’t say anything else, not until the waiter comes a second later, but he does keep his foot resting against Junmyeon’s and by the end of dinner, he has brushed his hand against Junmyeon’s on exactly six different occasions. Junmyeon keeps track, trying to decide whether or not they could have been avoided. Even with the benefit of the doubt, Junmyeon thinks Jongin was telling the truth.
He knows what he likes. More than that, Junmyeon thinks he isn’t afraid to reach out and take it.
∇
His sister FaceTimes him once he’s home. He flops down onto the couch as he answers, and she grins from ear to ear.
“So,” she says, leading, “how did it go?”
“It went okay,” he says.
“Nope,” she says. “That won’t work on me.”
“I’m not trying to make anything work,” he says. “I’m just saying. It went okay.”
“Yeah, but you’re, like, completely lying,” she smiles, and it is infectious. “See! See. I knew it. I know you better than that.”
“What?” he says, and he wipes a hand across his face. “I was just smiling because you were smiling.”
“Oh, no offense, but that’s bullshit.”
“Yeah, because you know everything,” Junmyeon says.
“Finally you understand this dynamic,” she smiles. “Now come on. Tell me the truth.”
“The truth is that he’s really cool,” Junmyeon says, “and now I feel, like, horrible.”
“Why horrible?”
“I dunno,” Junmyeon says. “I like him a lot.”
“You don’t make any fucking sense, you know that, right?”
“Yeah,” Junmyeon says, and he lets his head fall back against the couch, “I know.”
∇
Much to his counterintuitive dismay, Jongin keeps calling. They go out together on the weekends, walks through the park and trips to the bookstore and the cafe. They usually talk for a while before bed, Junmyeon’s wireless earphones firmly in place as he goes through his nightly routine and listens to Jongin’s opinions on The Brothers Karamazov, entertaining and deranged as they might be. In the morning, he almost always wakes to a text. It’s kind of… nice. It’s terrible how nice it is.
He takes Junmyeon out for drinks after work one night and by the end of the night, Junmyeon has to keep his face relaxed due to the strain of smiling so fucking much. It makes him sick to his stomach, just how happy being around Jongin makes him.
“Okay,” Jongin says, feet shuffling forward on the sidewalk. “What’s the verdict?”
“On what?”
“You know,” Jongin says. “Us.”
“I didn’t know there was a sentencing,” Junmyeon says. “I thought we were just—”
“Going on outings, right?” Jongin smiles.
“Yeah,” Junmyeon says softly. “I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry for? I get it.”
He looks over at Jongin, and he is emboldened by his beauty. In the street, the warm amber lights providing the glow and the chatter of the city providing the soundtrack, some weeknight he’ll forget in a year’s time… I don’t want to forget, he thinks. I want this to be the night that everything changes.
“I understand how you might feel,” Jongin says. “Because of your family. I feel the same way sometimes.”
His stomach sinks. There it is. The unfortunate truth.
“Sometimes it feels like there’s nothing I can do,” Junmyeon says. “Because it isn’t easy to just overlook the people I love most in favor of doing what I want.”
“No,” Jongin says, “I know.”
“T-Then how can I have something like this, you know? How can I be comfortable enough to—”
“Be with me?”
He breathes out, shaking. “Yeah.”
“I think you’re thinking about it too much,” Jongin says. Junmyeon starts to argue, explain, but Jongin cuts him off. “I think… give it a chance. The worst thing that could happen is that we don’t work out and you never have to consider how your family might feel about it, okay?”
No, Junmyeon thinks to himself. The worst thing that could happen is that I fall for you and then I’m trapped, loving you and never having the chance to love you right.
“So I’m just supposed to shut my brain off?” Junmyeon asks.
“Yeah, for a while,” Jongin smiles. “Whenever you’re with me.”
“Just stop thinking?”
Jongin grabs for Junmyeon’s hand, and he holds it in his as they walk.
“And start feeling,” he advises. “This good?”
“Yeah,” Junmyeon says breathlessly. “It’s good.”
“Now you’re getting it,” Jongin grins, and it is bright like a million stars.
∇
Junmyeon tries to go with the flow. They hang out more often, and this time, Junmyeon doesn’t try to recontextualize the dates. They are what they are, and he is who he is. Still, it feels like a big step when he invites Jongin over after work, and they eat pasta from takeout boxes. Junmyeon twirls capellini around his fork aimlessly, staring at Jongin do the same.
“You’re very cute,” Jongin says, and he takes a bite.
“Oh. Am I?”
Jongin chokes through a laugh, swallowing roughly.
“You don’t seem like the type of person to not know,” Jongin says.
“I know I’m cute,” Junmyeon says, “but normally I don’t want to seem, like, too self-assured. It can scare people off.”
“Not me,” Jongin says.
“Then I know I am cute,” Junmyeon smiles.
“Good,” Jongin says. “I’m glad you know.” He smiles, beautiful, stunning. “It would be weird if you didn’t.”
“Yeah,” Junmyeon says. “Like, I own a mirror. Am I supposed to ignore the fact that I see myself?”
Jongin laughs, high-pitched and cute. “Exactly. You get it.”
“Though, to be completely honest, I’m probably more self-absorbed than self-assured,” Junmyeon says.
“Oh, you think?”
“You can’t take me past a shiny surface without me stopping to check my reflection,” Junmyeon says.
“The curse of true beauty,” Jongin says.
“You understand.” He reaches out to touch Jongin’s face, turning his jaw side to side as if inspecting him. “You look like this.”
Jongin turns head-on and Junmyeon holds him, looks into his eyes.
A lot can happen when you’re alone. He is drenched in that knowledge now.
“You wanted her to be with me,” Jongin asks softly, “when you like me this much?”
Junmyeon worries over his bottom lip as he stares into Jongin’s eyes, a little too wrapped up in this moment, the heat. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
His touch slips, and Jongin watches it fall, his eyes moving down Junmyeon’s body. He can almost feel it. A touch.
“What are you thinking now?” Jongin asks.
He reaches forward, his hand careful on Junmyeon’s face like Junmyeon might push him away with any sudden movements. Gentle, still, yes, the seconds stretch on paper-thin. He’s liable to rip time in twain as Jongin’s thumb brushes against the swell of Junmyeon’s lip, the thick of it, and Junmyeon could cry. Such a simple touch, yet it feels like something deeper. More difficult. More impossibly beautiful.
“I don’t know,” he whispers, and Jongin sweeps the pad of his thumb along the corner of Junmyeon’s mouth. “Stop.”
“Do you want me to stop?” Jongin asks.
“No,” Junmyeon confesses.
“Tell me what you want, then.”
“I want you,” Junmyeon whispers, a secret just for the two of them.
“Then let me have you,” Jongin whispers back, slow to move forward.
It is the chance to run, to hide, to scurry back into a place of fear. And he is afraid, afraid of what it means and sometimes afraid of who he is, but ultimately, he is tired of being afraid. Just for one minute, he thinks, letting his eyes slip shut, he is ready to be happy.
Jongin guides him into a kiss, just as easy as the rest of it has been. Junmyeon falls right into the embrace, arms open around Jongin’s body as it deepens, stretches out longer and longer. He ends up with his back against the arm of the couch, Jongin holding him close. Jongin is warm, and Junmyeon’s hunger for heat grows the more he indulges, the quicker he sinks into this tangled web.
By the time he breaks it, Jongin’s breathing has quickened and his cheeks are red. Junmyeon touches Jongin’s face with a curious hand, holding the fire in his palm.
“So?” Jongin tries, looking uncharacteristically fragile.
“So,” Junmyeon says.
“So what do you think?” he tries.
“Hard to tell,” Junmyeon says, and he drags Jongin in even closer, their lips practically touching as they talk. “Maybe we should try it again.”
“Cool,” Jongin whispers and he lets Junmyeon pull him in by the collar, another eager kiss.
∇
From then on, they don’t really put a label on it, but Junmyeon is pretty sure Jongin knows what he means to him. They’ll get to the rest of it later—for now, they are comfortable just being together.
His sister comes over while Jongin is hanging out one afternoon and as per usual, she makes things weird.
“Isn’t it funny?” she says. “If he had his way, me and you would be together.”
“He’s a moron sometimes, isn’t he?” Jongin says.
“I knew this was a bad idea,” Junmyeon says. “You two shouldn’t be allowed in the same room.”
“Because we’re too powerful,” she says, flopping down on the couch next to Junmyeon, the two of them like bookends. “We have the ability to completely destroy you.”
“Great,” Junmyeon says. “Just what I wanted.”
Both of them lay their head on his shoulder. He sighs, feigning annoyance, but truthfully he can’t remember the last time he was so happy. He’s got a little bit of everything, and while he might not have it all forever, he knows now that he’ll take an ephemeral joy over a missed opportunity any day.
∇