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Jimin isn’t sure how he ended up in this situation, but he can’t help but laugh a little deliriously when he looks around at the state of things. Yoongi’s stabbing at the fridge, Jungkook is stuck by the juicer and sink, and him and Tae working with the buckets of ingredients practically on the fucking floor.
It’s a Friday afternoon, and the line is seemingly neverending, but today (of all days), the stock decided to turn up.
All. The. Stock.
Straws, supplement powders, fruits, cups, and a fuckton of yoghurt flood his store in the span of an hour, effectively trapping Jungkook on the other side of the already small store. It just means Kook has to make all the juices and wash all the jugs (which is not a bad system), but right now they have more smoothie orders, and it’s just inconvenient.
The worst part, as if this entire day isn’t already shitty enough, is that only Yoongi can slip through the tiny ass space between their wall of frozen yoghurt and the freezer it’s (supposed to be) kept in, but he’s trying to clean out the fridge before he stores the yoghurt away in the freezer, so Jimin and Taehyung are stuck on the outside, pretty much helpless to the juicing and the washing.
The store is full, so they can’t even keep the milk or juice where they’re supposed to be, or pack away the various supplements and dry ingredients. Their yoghurt is just sitting out there, practically sweating, and Jimin grimaces when he thinks about how watery it’ll all be if they have to use it later.
Jimin would love to cut the fruits and replenish their quickly dwindling supply of fresh fruit, but it’s too late in the day, and they’re drowning in orders, so it’s all hands on deck while everyone prays their stock lasts them through the next couple hours.
He stretches his back, groaning as he feels the dull ache already beginning to form as he takes another order. He just wants to cuddle up with Tae in his bed, watching reruns of like, Friends or something, but he has to work, and everyone seems to be dead set on ordering at least two drinks.
Fucking assholes.
Taehyung glances at his suffering best friend and sidles up to him, grinning boxily when he feels Jimin’s tense body relax just a little against his own.
“Don’t sweat it, tell them to wait and come help me with the orders, mm?” he whispers, and Jimin hums, sending Taehyung a grin that has his poor little heart quivering.
Just friends, just friends, we’re just friends, Taehyung chants in his head, wrinkling his nose at his oblivious best friend when he isn’t looking. I wish we were more.
He grabs the new ticket and a blender jug, grimacing slightly at how watery the frozen yoghurt is. It’s kinda nasty, but they’ll have to deal until Yoongi’s done with the fridge. He’s still cleaning it out, stabbing at the ice and the small mountain of dropped ingredients, collecting it in small tubs to throw out.
It’s a bi-weekly affair, this cleaning, but Jimin really wishes that they wouldn’t do it now.
“Hi, welcome! What can I get for you?” he plasters on a fake grin and a pleasant tone, and the boy, dressed in a Korea University camp shirt and paint stained shorts, glances at his phone, where Jimin can see the wall of text, probably some group order.
Fuck.
“You have a lot of orders don’t you?” JImin asks resignedly, and the boy looks up at him in surprise, the group of friends around him already starting to giggle.
Yeah, laugh at my misery, you brats.
“Yeah… I’ve got seven drinks, sorry,” he grins sheepishly at Jimin, who can’t hold back a sigh, but also feels a small grin growing from the ribbing his friends are giving him for making the poor cashier take so many orders.
He glances at Taehyung, mouthing seven at him, and his handsome best friend wrinkles his nose, arm wrapping loosely around Jimin’s waist as he glances (read: glares) at the (very) long list of orders, sighing when he sees that every single one of the orders are different.
“That’ll be 25,000won,” Jimin glances at the guy, who nods and hands his card over, ears still red over the teasing he’s receiving from his friends. He quickly finishes the transactions, then helps Taehyung with pouring out the drinks so Jungkook can wash the blenders quick enough for them to keep going.
Jimin grins slightly at the group of university kids, helping them label and bag all their drinks, before attending to their friend, grin dimming slightly when he sees the sheepish grin.
“Okay wait, wait, I have less than he does,” he laughs, and rattles off his order.
Five is not any better, excuse you.
Jimin turns away from the cashier after he’s done with the line to help Taehyung, who’s banging around the small store, trying to keep up with the orders. He presses himself against the taller boy to reach over and grab a ticket and a jug, grinning wickedly when he freezes slightly.
“Sorry TaeTae, the store’s a little small, y’know?” he winks, and Taehyung just flushes, turning away and bending down to pick up the mango and passionfruit in the bucket on the floor.
Jimin lets his mind run wild at seeing Taehyung in that… position , smirking as he lets the tips of his fingers brush against Taehyung’s perky ass. He jerks upright, ears hot and cheeks flushed, clumsily filling up the jug with ice before blending it, turning to Jimin and pouting bc he can’t even go into the back to try and cool his flaming face.
“Guys stop fucking flirting. I’m right here, cleaning out all this shit you drop,” Yoongi huffs, glaring at Jimin just giggles cutely and hurries to clear the long list of orders while Taehyung takes a second to compose himself (or at least try and hide his growing boner).
“Sorry hyung, getting right back to work!” Taehyung croaks, shooting Jimin a look full of promise and hunger, before he turns his focus to the melting yoghurt and softening fruit. Jimin just grins brightly back at him, handing Jungkook three jugs for juice orders so he can turn his attention to the line of people.
They end their shifts at the same time. Jimin giggles at how keyed up Taehyung looks, slipping his small hand into Taehyung’s yaoi-worthy one and lacing their fingers together fondly. They head to the bathroom to change out of their sticky uniforms, but before Jimin can walk into a cubicle, Taehyung tugs him roughly into the handicap one, the lock sliding shut noisily.
“Fun was it, teasing me in front of all those people?” Taehyung glares at Jimin, voice low and husky as he crowds Jimin into the wall, arms effectively trapping him in. His breath hitches, eyes roving over Taehyung’s pretty features, from his plush, kissable lips, to his dark, intense eyes, framed by long, pretty eyelashes.
“Tae,” Jimin whines, arching into him hungrily. “Tae, Tae, Tae–
“Kim Taehyung!” Jimin smacks him, and Taehyung is rudely jerked out of his fantasy. “Are you okay?” the pink haired boy asks, casually taking off his shirt, not noticing the strangled squeak Taehyung lets out.
“F-fine Chim, I just gotta pee real bad,” he stammers, desperately trying to kill his boner by thinking of old people dancing naked with all their old wrinkled flab hanging out and flopping. He grimaces when his imagination goes a little too far (although he wishes it would go further when he’s dreaming about fucking his best friend), and he hurries to pee and change at the same time (a feat he learned to make up for running late for just about everything).
“If you wanted to see my abs you should’ve just asked,” Jimin laughs, lifting his shirt and sending Taehyung a smoldering look. “I would’ve been glad to show you,” he winks, letting his shirt fall, covering the glory of Jimin’s gorgeous, perfectly toned body.
“D-don’t be silly, I just wanted some private time with my best friend,” Taehyung grins at Jimin, hugging him tightly, and Jimin automatically melts into his hug.
Damn, he didn’t take the bait, Jimin thinks, smiling against Taehyung’s warm, firm chest. Next time, I’ll get him to break for me next time.