Yifan swallows anxiously, one hand releasing his phone to blindly reach for his cup of coffee. He takes it, blowing a little to make sure he doesn’t burn himself, before taking a slow, tentative sip as he continues to bore a hole into the screen of his phone.

 

He’s so engrossed in his own world that he doesn’t notice the figure that hesitantly stops right beside his table.

 

A voice speaks up at last. “Y-Yifan?”

 

Yifan jolts in response, nearly sloshing his coffee out of his cup in the process. His head jerks upwards to see who is speaking to him, and he peers over the rim of his reading glasses to try to get a better look. His mouth opens to reply, before he pauses, words temporarily failing him.

 

“Junmyeon?” Yifan echoes blankly, his eyes open wide as he just sits there, phone in one hand and his coffee cup in the other. He stares for a long moment, before realization lights up in his eyes. “Junmyeon, is that you?”

 

Junmyeon wasn’t a girl, or an old man, or a buff guy with tattoos that had just been released from prison. Junmyeon, standing there—awkwardly—next to him is shifting his weight from foot to foot, his figure stuffed inside of a sweater that seems a little too big for his small frame. As Yifan pushes himself to stand, he can’t help but notice how tiny Junmyeon seems compared to him, the height difference between the two of them highly noticeable.

 

Yifan stands there silently for a moment, and the two of them just stare at each other. Yifan traces his eyes over the other’s dark hair, the smudged ringlets under his eyes, the round cheeks, the pink lips nervously pursed together.

 

And he can’t stop himself from smiling, because Junmyeon looks adorable.

 

They’ve been standing in silence for too long. Junmyeon softly clears his throat, playing with a loose string on the hem of one sleeve. “I’m really, really sorry. I missed the bus and had to wait for the next one, and my phone died before I could message you . . .  I didn’t mean to make you wait for so long.”

 

“No! No, it’s okay. Really, I just . . . ” Yifan is still grinning. “I’m just so glad you decided to come.”

 

Junmyeon smiles slowly.

 

Yifan ushers him to take a seat, and Junmyeon does, setting down a little white cup of his own onto the table. Yifan quickly flops back down into his own chair, nearly missing it in the process, but he manages.

 

“I . . .  I almost changed my mind, if you want me to be honest,” Junmyeon says softly, playing with the lid of his coffee cup to keep his hands busy. “But I thought about what you said. And, well, I knew you were right. We’re better off trying, I suppose, than not trying at all. Still, I was just . . . really, really nervous.”

 

“Why?” Yifan asks, his head tilting a little to one side in puzzlement. He frowns. “Because of me? Or because of the whole . . . ruining our friendship thing?”

 

“I told you already, you’ve never been the issue,” Junmyeon says quickly, and Yifan is still, basking in Junmyeon’s voice. It’s addictive in a way, soft and smooth. “You’ve always been really eager to try to do video calls and all that, so I already knew you had nothing to hide. For me, it’s always been the potential of messing all this up. I don’t know. It sounds silly when I say it out loud, but I guess I’ve just been worried that you wouldn’t like me once you actually got to meet me in real life.”

 

“Why wouldn’t I like you though? I told you already, you’re still Junmyeon,” Yifan argues gently, forehead dimpling as he frowns.

 

“I don’t really know how to explain it, exactly. I guess it’s just . . . ” Junmyeon starts, then pauses. A sigh passes his lips. “It’s always easier for me to talk online to people. I can be more . . . bubbly, I suppose. It’s easier to get closer to someone because I have time to think about what to say, you know? A little less pressure and all that.”

 

“Oh . . . ” Yifan mumbles, his eyes beginning to glow with understanding. “Things like this just kind of scare you a bit then, don’t they?”

 

“I guess you can put it that way,” Junmyeon agrees, sipping his drink. His eyes are nonchalantly trained on the window that the two of them were sitting next to. “I suppose I just get really nervous when I’m thrown into something and I can’t control it or predict what’s going to happen. Does that make any sense?”

 

“Yeah. Sorry. If I had known, I wouldn’t have been pushing you so hard to meet up with me,” Yifan says, his eyebrows pinching together. “I just wanted to meet you.”

 

“No, it’s okay. I should’ve told you,” Junmyeon replies, eyes flicking over now to focus on Yifan’s face. “Though I’m sure I should apologize too. I’m sure making you run around in circles like that was making you really nervous. You probably thought I was some creepy old guy. Am I right?”

 

“The thought may or may not have crossed my mind at some point,” Yifan says, chuckling. He motions to Junmyeon with one broad hand. “This—you—was a much better surprise.”

 

A slow smile crosses Junmyeon’s lips, and Yifan grins back.

 

It was almost unreal that they were sitting here in front of each other.

 

They fall into silence after that. The atmosphere feels a little thick, a little too heavy all of a sudden, and Yifan slowly realizes that neither of them have any idea of what to say. What were they supposed to say? They had been talking online nearly every day for six months, and now that they were sitting here in front of each other, it was as if words just wouldn’t come. It was awkward, and Yifan wants to break the silence so badly. Think, think, what could he say . . .

 

There’s suddenly a string of upbeat notes blasting through the café. Yifan noticeably jumps in his seat, fumbling for a moment as he struggles to silence his phone as it continues to ring loudly. It takes him a moment, mentally reminding himself to call Chanyeol back after checking the caller ID, before he at last manages to shut it off.

 

He flushes a little, noticing that several stares are being directed his way, and he slumps down in his seat as he defeatedly sets his phone back down on the tabletop. However, at the sound of a slight chuckle, he glances up to find Junmyeon smiling at him.

 

“You never told me that you liked JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure,” Junmyeon then states, and Yifan just stares at him for a second as his brain tries to keep up. Junmyeon points to Yifan’s abandoned phone to help him out. “Your ringtone? That’s the first opening, right?”

 

“Yeah. Yeah, it is,” Yifan at last replies. “You never told me that you liked it either though. Who’s your favorite? I think Jonathan is the best one.”

 

Junmyeon scoffs in response. “No . . .  Josuke is the best JoJo.”

 

“What? No, he isn’t. I mean, Jonathan is really good-natured, for starters,” Yifan begins, frowning. “He’s chivalrous, valiant, and honest. He strives to stick to the code he set for himself.”

 

“Okay, but even though Josuke has amnesia, he still tries to learn more about himself, his past, and his family,” Junmyeon argues. “And he’s definitely the most reasonable and logical JoJo out of everyone.”

 

“How do you figure?” Yifan bites back.

 

“Easy. Whenever there was a battle, rather than freaking out about the stand the enemy was using, like just about every other JoJo, Josuke did what everyone else should have done,” Junmyeon elaborates, “and that is tracking down the person who is using it. He got things accomplished! Not to mention, despite all his levels of being able to fight and level-headedness, he still had a childish side to him. He’s definitely not a one dimensional character.”

 

“Alright, alright, I get it. Jeez, did I strike a nerve there?” Yifan holds up his hands in mock surrender. He grins, knowing that the ice has finally been broken. And as usual, all it took was talking about something Junmyeon liked. “This is almost as bad as that time you started ragging on me because I mixed up Supernatural and Buffy the Vampire Slayer.”

 

“I still don’t know how you got those two confused,” Junmyeon says, and laughs, eyes crinkling over the rim of his cup. “They’re definitely not the same.”

 

Yifan falters for a second, staring at him from across the table. It’s his first time ever getting to hear Junmyeon laugh, and Yifan instantly decides that it suits him. It’s soft, just like his voice, laced with an undertone of amusement and happiness.

 

“Hey,” Yifan starts, breaking the silence that had again fallen. “Okay, I know I said this already, but I’m really, really glad you decided to give me a chance. I’m having a good time. I’m glad that you’re real, you know?”

 

“Honestly . . .  Same here,” Junmyeon agrees after a moment, a twinkle in his eye as he stirs his coffee up absently. “Maybe . . .  Maybe I’m jumping the gun a bit here, but, well . . .  If you wanted to do this again sometime . . .  I don’t think I would say no.”

 

Yifan blinks in surprise. “Really?”

 

“Yeah, really,” Junmyeon says. “I mean . . .  I got to meet you, and you got to meet me. Things have gone pretty smoothly so far, right? And, well . . .  I have no complaints. Though I have to say, you’re an even bigger dork in person than you are online.”

 

Yifan opens his mouth to defend himself, but Junmyeon laughs again, a little louder this time, as if his joke is the funniest thing in the world. Perhaps what he likes the most is how Junmyeon’s eyes, crinkled up from his laugh, only proceed to change shape even more. Yifan watches in silent fascination as they get smaller and smaller, turning into little crescents the more he chuckles.

 

Something deep in his belly stirs to life, a weird fluttering, and Yifan can’t help but grin widely at his friend from across the table.

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