Unbuttoned

Seven: Attractive

Seven: Attractive

Wren poked his head out from over Vincent's shoulder to see Beau smirking at Vincent like he'd just won an amazing bet. The tense air between them was somehow even tenser. It was actually making Wren a little lightheaded, which he soon realized was because both of them were giving off rather intense defensive pheromones. It was testosterone soup in the vegetable section, and Wren was seriously considering using Vincent's back for cover to sneak away.

His conscience wouldn't let him, though. Wren didn't think he was responsible for this situation, but he still felt like he needed to diffuse it somehow. So, gathering up his courage, Wren reached past Vincent to grab Beau's phone.

Ignoring Vincent's incredulous look, Wren put in his number quickly before handing it back. He cleared his throat.

"So. See you around," Wren said to no one in particular. And then he booked it.

Literally, he turned on his heel and speed walked out of there as fast as he possibly could without making it obvious that he was running away like a terrified puppy.

With some distance, Wren was able to calm down a bit and process how very strange that whole encounter was. Whether it was just some weird flirting ritual between Vincent and Beau, or something else, it was still very unusual. That much at least, Wren knew.

Lost in thought, Wren left the grocery store, and didn't hear the first two times his name was called.

"Wren...Wren!"

He turned, already lamenting that he wasn't able to quietly escape when he recognized Vincent jogging towards him.

As he watched Vincent approach, Wren idly wondered how Vincent knew his name. He hadn't introduced himself, had he? Then he remembered that Beau had said his name a few times in the store and figured that must have been it.

"I'm sorry," Vincent said first.

Wren paused. Well...at least he had the decency to apologize, though Wren wasn't completely positive that anything needed to be apologized for.

"I didn't mean to intrude. I just find you very attractive and became territorial. My apologies if I made you uncomfortable."

Wren blinked slowly, feeling very stiff.

I just find you very attractive.

It didn't really register at first, and Vincent blew right by it, as if it was just common sense. The sky is blue. I find you attractive. Grass is green. I find you attractive.

"Since I already made a nuisance of myself, I might as well go all in. Would you like to go out with me?"

"..."

Wren finally figured out what was going on here. He must have been sleeping this whole time, and all of this was just some bizarre dream. Only in a dream would something like this happen.

"You don't have to make a choice right now," Vincent continued, stepping just slightly closer to Wren than was socially acceptable. "I can wait."

Left staring up into Vincent's fathomless eyes from a close distance, Wren felt...odd. Off-balance, like all it would take is one gust of wind against his back and he'd stumble into Vincent's chest.

Wren knew he was supposed to say something right now. If not an answer, then an acknowledgement that he understood, but he wasn't sure he did, and even worse, he didn't think he was capable of forming a coherent sentence. Vincent seemed to see right through Wren, though, and all he did was smile that horrible, awful (really attractive) smile and lean a bit closer. Wren's lungs were filled with him, his legs were jelly, and most alarmingly, Wren was starting to feel a familiar lightheaded, dazed feeling.

"Call me," Vincent said. And then he slowly stepped out of Wren's space, sending one last crooked smile over his shoulder before he left.

So. That was a new experience.

Wren made it home, somehow. He didn't remember the walk there, didn't remember putting the groceries away and getting ready for bed. Laying in bed, Wren finally managed to process a few things.

One, that was not a dream. Vincent actually did ask Wren to go out with him, heavens know why... (the words 'I find you attractive' echoed in Wren's head over and over, but he tactfully ignored them as they caused Wren's heart to do some very funny things).

Two, Wren was meant to come up with an answer sometime in the near future and call Vincent to let him know said answer, which in turn made Wren realize that Vincent giving him his number in the taxi had not, in fact, been a way of getting customers for a new taxi service.

And three, even though Vincent had not been exuding any pheromones on purpose, Wren still recognized that he'd been briefly sinking into scent-drunkeness. That dazed feeling, which he hadn't experienced in years, was unmistakable. It flaring up now was either a sign that Wren needed to go back on the medication or... that Vincent's alpha scent had a particularly strong effect on Wren.

That, in turn, made Wren aware of a problem. If Vincent caused Wren's condition to flare up, then he definitely couldn't go out with him. How was he going to keep control of himself otherwise?

That meant that Wren had to reject Vincent. Definitely. For sure. Wren knew that.

Except, over the next couple of days, he never did call Vincent. Instead, he replayed the scene outside the grocery store in his head over and over, until even he was sick of it, but his brain wouldn't let him think about anything else.

It all came to a head one day, when Wren ended up staying late at the office. There was a big wedding being organized through their company, and Wren had been working on finishing scheduling for the event. It was made especially difficult because the couple in question couldn't seem to agree on the exact date they wanted it to happen, and it was giving Wren a headache.

It was about eight pm when Wren finally decided enough was enough and decided to leave. Except...it had started raining. And like usual, Wren had forgotten to bring an umbrella.

He really didn't want to walk home. But if he called a taxi...

What were the chances it was Vincent? They were pretty goddamn high.

Maybe it was exhaustion or temporary insanity – but Wren still took out his phone to order a taxi, feeling like he was perched on a tightrope over a canyon, unsure which side he should cross to, and not sure if he could get to either one without falling.