Your Vanilla Scent (Junhao)

Jun

It took almost the entire drive back to Myungho's apartment for Jun's near-catatonic state to break, and when it did, it broke into laughter.

Because...fuck. Myungho was a billionaire? A billionaire with a goddamn vampire fiancé?

A fiancé.

A fucking fiancé.

That word on its own was enough to send Jun into orbit. Because he'd lived his entire life surrounded by people obsessed with money and power. Gaining it, keeping it, lording it over others. He'd finally—fucking finally—run from it all, and where had it led him? To the goddamn heir apparent billionaire of some sketchy European vampire den, one who was currently rocking a significant threadbare hole in the left arm of his thrifted sweater.

How could Jun do anything else but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all?

"Um..."

Jun tore his eyes off the road (and had it really been the best idea to let him drive?) long enough to see Myungho staring at him, that pale brow furrowed in visible concern. "Is inappropriate laughter one of the symptoms of shock?" Myungho asked.

It was the faint note of real anxiety in his voice that had Jun's laughter finally quieting down. "Sorry, kitten," he managed to get out, trying to swallow down the last errant chuckles. "I'm just realizing my father might actually have approved of you after all."

He stole another look to see Myungho nibbling at his lower lip, face drawn. He looked absolutely miserable. "I didn't ask for the money, Jun," he said dully. "Vee just wanted to be sure I was taken care of, if anything happened to her."

"Taken care of and then some," Jun countered, pulling up at the curb in front of Myungho's apartment. He didn't know why he said it, why he poked at what was clearly a sore subject for Myungho. Maybe he wanted, just for a moment, for Myungho to feel bad. Bad for lying to Jun, for giving him hope for something more—something real—when he had always intended to leave.

He told Soonyoung he wanted to stay, argued the more reasonable part of Jun's brain.

Either way, Myungho had no answer to his petty statement, and they made their way into his apartment in strained silence. Myungho immediately wandered into the kitchen, and Jun lowered himself onto the couch, his movements stilted, his mind torn between obsessively focusing on that one not-so-little fact (fiancé, fiancé, fiancé) and splintering off into a thousand different, confused directions.

He didn't realize he'd been starting at the wall, eyes unseeing, until Myungho's throat clearing broke through his haze. "Okay, I have a big glass of water for you, and then I've eaten most of the stuff in my pantry, but I did have some bread, so I put some butter on it for you. Bread and butter—that's a classic, right? That should be tasty. Right?"

Jun focused his vision with effort and turned his head to the left to see Myungho hovering by the edge of the coffee table, a cup in one hand and a small plate in the other.

Jun eyed the contents of the plate, and it was almost enough to make him smile for real. "Kotyonok. Did you use the entire stick of butter?"

Myungho frowned down at the plate thoughtfully. "No, just, um, half? Why, should I have used the whole thing?"

Jun shook his head, charmed in spite of himself. Fucking hell, how was anyone supposed to stay mad at this earnest, alien creature? "No, sweetheart, it's perfect. Come here, please. We just got back from dinner. I don't actually need any food right now."

"The water though," Myungho insisted, stepping closer and holding the cup out in front of Jun's face. "You're in shock. You need to hydrate. Right?"

Jun took the glass from him only to set it down on the coffee table. "I'm not in shock, sweetheart. I just am shocked. Come here. I'm lonely sitting here all by myself."