Work Text:
Taehyung normally loves his cash shifts at Indigo. He likes to consider himself a pleasant last interaction with customers—even if someone walks up to him in a foul mood, his bright smile leaves them exiting the store in a better mood.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but that coupon expired last week. I would apply it if I could but our system doesn’t allow it.”
The customer stares Taehyung down with her furrowed Sharpie eyebrows and permanent scowl. “Well then. Surely someone higher up can do something about this little mishap, don’t you think?”
(Yes, even the customer wishing to redeem an expired coupon will leave the store in a better mood once Taehyung is done with them. It’s a known fact.)
“Yoongi to Cash 3, please,” Taehyung says into his walkie. Indigo has five registers in a line—they all share one long counter—and as he searches the floor for his manager he makes eye contact with Jungkook at Cash 4, located directly to his right. Jungkook looks away before the customer can catch his smirk at her idiocy.
When Yoongi arrives, Taehyung steps aside and patiently listens to his manager tell the woman there’s nothing they can do. He doesn’t smile, not like Taehyung, but Taehyung definitely admires his steel reserve and monotonous voice towards irritated customers.
“Taehyung,” Yoongi concludes, “just scan up her items as priced. We’re not going to honour this.”
“All right, thank you.” Taehyung does as Yoongi says, keeping his mood as pleasant as possible. Once the woman picks up her bags her anger has been noticeably subdued, and once out of sight Taehyung drops the smile in favour for a nice long sigh.
“I don’t know how you do it,” Jungkook muses. “If I were you, I would have ripped the coupon up and thrown it in her face.”
“I’m trying to pay for school, not suffer in silence with this debt,” Taehyung says. His eyes wander over to the bookshelves in sight. March is one of the quietest months and so the aisles are fairly void of people, but he catches sight of one guy in the Thoughts, Beliefs, and Behaviours section. Even though he can’t see the customer’s face because he’s turned away, he analyzes the facts: he’s tall, some of his blond hair sticks out from his beanie (along with his ears, which Taehyung finds adorable), and he’s dressed in skinny olive green pants, classic Timberlands, and a long black winter jacket. Taehyung doesn’t have his glasses on, but he’s pretty sure he sees the guy’s muffler peeking out from the top of his jacket.
A minute passes in silence. Jungkook directs the next customer to his register, and Taehyung is thankful for the action because it takes another ten seconds for the guy to put the book back on the shelf and turn, leaving his face to be scrutinized by a curious employee.
Taehyung has never seen this guy before—and he knows most of the customers, at the very least by face—but he’s also confident he’s experiencing love at first sight, instantly enamoured with the stranger’s dark eyes, high-bridged nose, and delectably full lips, all wonderfully placed within full cheeks and dark eyebrows.
(For lack of a better summary, Taehyung is utterly fucked.)
“Thanks for coming in—we hope to see you again!” Jungkook’s too-happy voice recites the closing line of the Indigo script. Taehyung’s eyes never leave the stranger, now picking up a new book and (if Taehyung’s not mistaken) checking the index.
Taehyung doesn’t think he can do his job properly. He can’t focus on anything but the stranger’s pointer finger, not running down a page in the book. “Hey, Jungkook—”
“I dare you to do it.”
“You can’t dare me to do something when I haven’t even told you what I’m doing.”
“Please. I know exactly what you’re doing. It’s written all over your face.”
The stranger closes the index-book, puts it back in its place, and picks up a third book before leaning against the same shelf. “Okay, fine,” Taehyung says. “Take a guess. What am I doing?”
Jungkook ducks behind the counter to sip on his vanilla frappuccino. “You’re checking out the hot guy in the Thoughts and Beliefs section—which, by the way, is a dumb place to be in unless you’re buying school books—and keeping track of his every move because you want to talk to him. You want to ask him out even though you’re not sure what way he swings, and in order to talk to him before you lose your chance, you’re going to ask me to cover for you while you sneak away from your designated spot at cash.”
Taehyung finally tears his gaze from the hot stranger to look at the younger boy, whose eyebrows are already raised expectantly. “Am I that much of an open book?”
“Nah, you’re good. I just know you really well.” Jungkook stands up and leans over the counter, weight on his elbows. “But I’m curious about how you’re gonna do it.”
“I’m going to do it with my winning smile. How else?”
Jungkook scoffs. “You’re right. Maybe you’ll get some unwanted help from those khakis we’re forced to wear, too. Sculpts your ass perfectly.”
Taehyung turns to look at himself in the obligatory pants and light blue dress shirt; so maybe the uniform doesn’t do his body (especially his butt) justice, but he’s still going to do his best because that’s the Kim Taehyung Way of Doing Things. He delivers a playful punch to Jungkook’s arm. “Just cover for me. I’m going in.”
He doesn’t wait for Jungkook’s response before sneaking away from the registers as quickly as possible, all the while keeping an eye out for Yoongi and his caffeine-induced wrath. He straightens the name tag on his black work vest, clasping his hands behind him as he walked over to the stranger. Once he’s close enough, he says, “Hi there! I’m Taehyung. And you are?”
The stranger looks up from his book with raised eyebrows and Taehyung doesn’t miss how his plump lips part slightly at the interaction. “Oh I—Hey. Namjoon.”
Namjoon. A name spoken with the deepest voice Taehyung has ever heard next to his own. Nam…joon. “How are you?”
“Good. And you?”
“I’m good, thanks.” Taehyung takes that as initiative to step into the same aisle as him. “Is there anything else I can help you find?”
“Ah… no, I’m just browsing. My friend’s still at work so I thought I’d see your selection.”
“I see. Good choice.” There’s a small silence as Taehyung overlooks Nietzsche, but before the silence extends for long enough that his customer has a chance to return to the book, he adds, “I was wondering if there was something you’d be able to help me with, though.”
Namjoon’s eyebrow twitches in amusement. “What would that be?”
“I need some help finding someone to accompany me for dinner sometime,” Taehyung says, jutting a thumb in the direction of the restaurant. “Or rather, I thought I would need help finding someone, but all you need to do is say ‘yes’ and my search will be over.”
The book promptly falls from Namjoon’s fingers but his hands remain frozen in place, eyes trained on Taehyung’s bluntness and—hopefully—his dazzling smile. So far so good, he thinks, because Namjoon is speechless.
But instead of a confirmation, Namjoon bends down to pick up the book. He hands it to Taehyung, adjusts his muffler, zips up his jacket, and mutters something under his breath.
Taehyung tries to keep his voice steady. “Sorry, uh—what was that?”
“I’m sorry I just—I need to leave.” Namjoon adjusts his beanie. “Thanks for offering your help. Have a good night.”
Taehyung turns to watch Namjoon leave the store in a hurry. It isn’t even that cold for March, but he looks like he’s about to exit the store and enter a snowstorm. The door jingles as he leaves. Without another word (or another blink, because Taehyung tells himself that if he doesn’t blink then all this embarrassment would have just been a bad dream), Taehyung sticks Nietzsche back on the shelf and returns to the registers with watery, unblinking eyes.
Jungkook looks up from his book. “How’d it g—oh shit. You’re crying.”
“I’m not crying.” Taehyung ducks behind the counter and sips the last of Jungkook’s frappuccino. “I’m just trying to convince myself this isn’t real.”
“Just blink, you dumbass. Blink and then you can tell me what happened.”
Taehyung blinks a few times to shed away dirt and ease up his tears. “I think I got rejected but I’m not entirely sure.”
“How can you not be sure if you were rejected or not?” Jungkook asks. Some unknown realization dawns on him. “Oh God. Don’t tell me he was straight. Did he say he was straight?”
“No. He said he had to leave.”
“What.”
“I went up there,” Taehyung begins, “and I asked him if he needed help, and then I asked him if he could help me by going on a date.” He pauses. “He dropped his book, gave it back to me, and said he needed to leave.”
“And then he left?”
Taehyung points straight ahead. “He pushed the handle of the left door. His germs are on there. But it doesn’t even matter anymore because all I know is that his name is Namjoon and I will never learn anything else about him.”
“Did you say Namjoon?”
The tone of Jungkook’s voice makes him eyes the younger boy carefully. He sniffles. “Yeah...why?”
Jungkook juts his chin in the direction of the little Starbucks inside their Indigo. (Taehyung can’t help admitting that it’s a good marketing strategy, to give book lovers their caffeine fix.) “Hoseok in Starbucks has a friend named Namjoon. I’ve only seen him once, but…” He shrugs. “Maybe ask him about it?”
The gears in Taehyung’s head start turning the longer he watches Hoseok at work, swift movements barely visible above the high counter and coffee machines. He slides three of the same drink out onto the counter, calling out the names of customers and their orders’ tweaks with scary accuracy. “I’ll leave work with him today,” he decides, turning back to his coworker. “It’s been decided. God, I would kiss you if I could.”
“You’re gross.” Jungkook grimaces. “I was just helping you out.”
Taehyung gives him a quick wink. “Don’t worry. I know you’re saving yourself for Yoongi and all, but at least wait until he’s not your manager anymore before you make a move.”
Jungkook’s cheeks flush a bright pink and Taehyung waves at a new customer, not giving Jungkook any time to counter what’s been said. They don’t have much of a chance to talk during the last hour of their shift as the customer traffic picks up, but the second the last customer leaves through the now-closed doors of the chain bookstore, Taehyung makes a beeline for Starbucks. “Hobi!”
“Hi Tae,” Hoseok says. He’s carrying four metal carton-holders from the side table around the main counter. “You know I can’t make you anything once we’re closed.”
Taehyung waves him off. “I only did that once, but I’m here on important business. Do you know a Namjoon?”
“Namjoon?” Hoseok doesn’t stop cleaning up the little coffee shop. “He’s in the same major as me, yeah. We’re meeting up to study after I’m done. Why?”
“No reason. I just have to tell him something. Mind if I tag along for a bit?”
Hoseok shrugs, shooting him a small smile. “You do you. Just hurry up and clean because I don’t plan on waiting for you to finish.”
Taehyung has never moved so fast during after-hours cleaning in his entire retail life. He even goes as far as begging Yoongi to leave when his section is clean instead of waiting for the rest of the employees, and it actually works.
“So how do you know Namjoon?” Hoseok asks as they walk out of the little mall. The March weather isn’t as biting as it could be, but Taehyung buries his face in his scarf all the more. Maybe it’s because of the cold. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t want to embarrass himself in front of Namjoon. Worst case scenario, Taehyung thinks, he tells me he’s not interested.
Thankfully Taehyung is saved from answering because there’s a guy sitting on a bench inside the bus shelter, and Hoseok doesn’t hesitate to call out to him. He jogs up while Taehyung lags behind, walking towards them so that he doesn’t scare him off a second time.
“Joon, you know Taehyung,” he hears Hoseok say when he’s close enough and oh God he hopes Namjoon doesn’t run away. He already looks like a deer in the headlights when his gaze snaps to meet Taehyung’s.
Taehyung releases his grip on his scarf to give a little wave. “Hey.”
Namjoon blinks. “Hi?”
“I’ll be in the subway,” Hoseok interjects.
“Ah, Hos—” Namjoon stretches a hand out to his friend, but he’d already turned on his heel and sprinted down the outside staircase before he could be stopped. Taehyung hears him sigh. “All right.”
“Listen, I’m sorry.” Namjoon expression becomes one of curiosity, but Taehyung knows that if he doesn’t start speaking, he’ll never get the words out. “I saw you inside and thought wow he’s really attractive and I know it was a wild shot to ask you out on a date because I don’t even know if you like guys but—” He exhales. His eyes hadn’t left Namjoon’s face as he spoke but now he turns away. “If you were worried about hurting my feelings, I’d rather you just tell me you’re straight or reject me or slap me in the face while you can. Or...something.”
Taehyung knows he’s making a fool of himself, but much to his surprise, Namjoon laughs. It’s a deep sound, just like his voice, and when Taehyung sneaks a look at him again he notices the guy has a bit of an underbite that makes him all the more attractive.
(Taehyung, once again, is quite fucked.)
Once the laughter dies down, Namjoon tilts his head. “So you were being serious in there?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Taehyung says defensively. He feels his cheeks heating up from embarrassment.
“I just—I thought it was a bet or something. Or a dare. I saw you talking to your coworker but…” This time Namjoon looks away. “I didn’t think you meant it. I, uh, also don’t do well with confrontations.”
Because Taehyung is Taehyung and he still has a chance at a date because Namjoon hasn’t rejected him, he decides to throw another risk into the pile. “Well that’s not a problem for me because I’m great at confronting people, and should you agree to go for dinner with me, you won’t have to worry about flagging down our server. We’d be a great match.”
Namjoon’s eyebrows raise to hide under his beanie, and there’s a small curl starting at the corner of his lip. “When you put it that way, how could I say no?”
Taehyung feels his entire soul brighten. (Namjoon’s still-growing smile might have something to do with it.) “Is that a yes?”
“What do you think?”
“I think you should stop asking me questions and give me an answer.” Taehyung takes a step closer. “But I’m taking this as a yes.”
Namjoon’s smile splits into a grin. “It’s a yes, Taehyung.”
Taehyung takes another step closer to Namjoon. “I’ll get your number from Hobi on my next shift and we can figure out details.”
“When’s your next shift?”
“Friday night.”
“Well,” Namjoon says, “how about I just come to pick you up when your shift ends? I wouldn’t mind a late night dinner. Just don’t forget.”
Taehyung barks out a quick laugh. “Trust me, I won’t.” Ever the confrontationalist, he takes a final step forward and kisses what’s visible of Namjoon’s right cheek, pulling back the moment his his lips touch skin. “I’ll see you on Friday then.”
“That you will,” Namjoon says in place of a goodbye. He walks down the stairs after Hoseok without looking back, but as Taehyung watches him he can’t help the rush of excitement when he sees one of Namjoon’s hands lift to touch his cheek. Taehyung waits until he’s completely out of sight to start walking towards his place, his phone out and already dialing Jungkook’s number.
He picks up on the second ring. “So how did it go?”
“Here’s the plan,” Taehyung says. “I need your help picking a pair of skinny jeans for me to wear on Friday after work. There is no way I’m going to this date on Friday wearing these khakis. The universe gave me a second chance and I need to show him how good my ass looks before I almost blow it for a second time.”
There’s a pause on the other line. Jungkook sighs. “A simple ‘it went well’ would have sufficed, but I’ll be over first thing tomorrow morning.”