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One of the first rules of being a food critic is: avoid going to restaurants alone. Having one or two other people means the critic can sample more menu items in a single trip, with some foodie snobs discussing their meal, which is much less obvious than sitting alone with a notebook, scribbling between bites. However, the upside of ignoring this rule is that, most restaurateurs expected critics to come with others and when Seokjin comes in with a stack of scholarly books on Medieval Heresy and tells the maitre’d that he will be dining alone, the man simply clears the second place setting from a quiet table in the corner, tells him his server will be with him shortly and leaves him alone.
It’s Seokjin’s first stop on his new beat in the Bay Area. His editor had thought for a good first splash, rather than to try and say something new about the most famous restaurants in San Francisco, he should go to some newer places which are generating buzz just outside the city. And now he's sitting at an Asian fusion restaurant, aptly named Fil-Am, in Berkeley that is getting some positive word-of-mouth buzz for its twists on Filipino cuisines, and its Asian-Spanish-American flavor combinations. As his server approaches, Seokjin artfully scatters a few marked up articles across the other side of the table and pulls out his notebook.
The young server carefully fills his water glass and hands him a menu. “Good afternoon, Sir. My name is Yoongi and I will be your server for today. I’ll give you some time to look at our menu, but can I start you off with a drink? On a nice early spring day like this, I would recommend one of our sweeter chardonnays.”
Seokjin looks up at the waiter, who's also a Korean like himself if his name's anything to go by with that, and is surprised at how young the man standing next to his table looks. Before he can even stop himself, he blurts out, “Are you even old enough to know the wine list well?” which is terribly rude, but his waiter—Yoongi—only politely smiles.
“I’ll be twenty-three in a few months, and all of the staff here have an excellent knowledge of both the wine list and menu.”
Seokjin hates sweet wine, but he is here to critique both the restaurant and the staff so he agrees to Yoongi’s suggestion, and the waiter walks away. Seokjin pretends to look at the menu since he had already studied the weekly menu posted on the restaurant's website and chosen his order before coming here.
More quickly than he would have expected, given the crowd of diners finishing lunch (Seokjin purposefully came at the end of the lunch rush—that's the true test of a good restaurant), Yoongi returns with his glass of wine, which he sets down in one of the few empty spots on the table. Good waiters simply do their jobs and heed subtle cues from the diner as to whether they're interrupting a conversation, or if the patron had had sufficient time to look at the menu. Seokjin does not look up, signaling he's not ready to order yet but Yoongi doesn't walk away.
“Um, I suggested a sweeter chardonnay but after a second thought, you look more like a dry wine fan, so I hope you don’t mind that I picked a different chardonnay for you. I mean, you agreed to my suggestion, and I thought it was more my recommendation than the actual suggestion you agreed to, so it would be okay to change it.”
Obviously, Yoongi isn’t that good of a waiter.
Seokjin looks up at him, and the young waiter looks genuinely concerned over his choice of wine. “I’m sure it will be fine, and you’re right. Generally, I do prefer a dryer wine.”
The gummy smile on the waiter's face is practically blinding, as if he had grown and fermented the grapes in Seokjin’s glass himself.
“Great! Well, if you are ready to order, I can take it now, or do you want a moment to consider what you like to order while you enjoy your wine?” Yoongi seems to be trying his hardest to act like a quiet professional, the attitude of most upper level waiters, but isn’t quite succeeding.
Seokjin decides to just go ahead and order a starter of deconstructed lumpia and an entrée of pancit, some of the well-known Filipino dishes. Yoongi writes it down, then hesitates like he's going to say something, but he just nods and walks off. Seokjin starts to take notes about the décor, how long the other diners seem to be waiting for drink refills, and what menu items are popular, while sipping his wine. And then, Yoongi appears again.
Is he the only table this kid waiting on? Didn’t he look busy? Seokjin looks up exasperated at the interruption to see Yoongi nervously playing with the string on his apron. He raises an eyebrow expectantly.
“The pancit is usually really good, it’s one of my favorites, but we just ran out of our homemade pasta and had to switch to dried," the waiter says it all in a rush. “So it will probably be good, but not as good as it usually is, and I thought I would tell you just in case you wanted to change your order.”
“I’ll chance it with the dried pasta.” Yoongi nods and leaves again. Really, how many diners would have even noticed the difference? Seokjin would, but he has a trained palate and five years of professional food criticism under his belt. And what is with the worried act? He isn’t the president or something, he's just a guy eating a late lunch alone, which hardly merits to this level of concern.
The appetizer is delicious; instead of the traditional wrapped up rolls, the meat is in a pile on one side, with crispy won-tons on the other and an artful swirl of spices and oil in the middle. Blended together, it has the perfect lumpia combination of moist-crispy-spicy. The pancit is equally well-flavored and with the exception of the slightly too-tough pasta, it tastes fresh and perfect.
Yoongi clears his plate, letting out a distractingly bright grin when Seokjin confirms that his meal had been fine, and asks him for the check. Seokjin always pays cash to avoid revealing his identity, and is authorized to tip 18%. He hesitates, thinking about how the boy had broken almost every rule of being a waiter at a high class establishment and weighing that against the beautiful smile and honest concern over his meal, Seokjin tips 20%, gathers up his books and leaves.
Since he chose to dine alone, it did mean that in order to get a full array of what the restaurant offers, he’ll have to go back and try the other Filipino dishes, but Seokjin thinks of that as being thorough. He likes to go for one lunch (preferably towards the end), one weeknight dinner, and one weekend dinner. So a few nights later, he goes back, and is surprised to see Yoongi at his table again, since after his first meal, Seokjin had assumed the kid was green and only worked day shifts.
“Good to see you back, Sir," the waiter begins, and Seokjin thinks he must either be the nicest waiter he’s ever met or a really good actor because he genuinely looks thrilled that Seokjin came back here.
“It’s a bit chilly tonight, so I would recommend a Spanish red with some really bold spicy flavors," Yoongi says it blandly, like this is his wine recommendation for every table, but his eyes are dancing, and Seokjin suddenly feels like it’s a challenge, and he’s always loved competition so he goes ahead and orders a bottle, which makes Yoongi smile.
Again, he has his books and papers as props, and again, Yoongi seems to ignore his deep-in-thought routine when he comes back with his wine.
“So are you a student or professor?” Yoongi asks, setting down the wine, and pulling out his notebook. “You look old enough to be a professor but young enough that you could still be in grad school.” The waiter then seems to realize what he just said and blushes, quite noticeable with his pale skin.
Usually, Seokjin would just lie and say he’s a visiting scholar or something, but this man had been so honest, wringing his hands over store-bought pasta, so he can't really bring himself to lie to him. “I—uh—am really just interested in history," he says lamely. It's a cover-up, yes, but it's still the truth. He really does like history. , “And the Middle Ages are interesting.” God it’s a bad story, but Yoongi seems to buy it at least.
“Well, I just graduated from Berkeley and history was one of my favorite subjects. I majored in Sociology though. I've always been interested in Asian culture, because well, I'm an Asian myself. I'm more into ethnic cultures. Also, I like food. No wonder I work at this restaurant while saving up money because I'm planning to go into graduate school." The waiter then seems to remember that he's babbling to a customer, so he apologizes and takes Seokjin’s order; mahi-mahi cooked with saffron over traditional root vegetables from the Philippines and some sort of clams steamed with greens in copper pots from the Basque region of Spain. Yoongi seems to approve both choices, and although he wouldn’t usually pair a red wine with seafood, the spices of the dish; never so strong as to smother the delicate flavor of the protein, more complementary, surprisingly goes well with the wine, and Seokjin is pleasantly surprised by Yoongi’s choice.
Again, the food is excellent, and Seokjin has written down some phrases in his notebook that he feels are perfect for his first review, but when Yoongi comes to clear his plate, he pauses and looks at the waiter.
“So if you’re just reading for enjoyment, you aren’t visiting, but you’re here alone. You prefer Fil-Am to Café Strada, or your friends aren’t into inventive cuisine?” Yoongi asks it in a light-hearted way, but Seokjin hears the more serious question underneath.
“Well, I enjoy fine dining, and I’m new in town.” Seokjin thinks that this is a suitably vague answer considering that his waiter really shouldn’t be asking personal questions at all.
Yoongi nods understandingly. “Yeah, since my college friends moved, it’s been hard to meet people. I live with a couple guys I skate with, but I need time away from them.”
“Skate?”
“Yeah, I speed-skate on ice, I used to be pretty good, but I got sidelined by an injury. Still, I love to race. That’s why I’ve got this crazy big ass.” Yoongi seems to realize at that point that he had just invited Seokjin to stare at his ass, and he blushes in embarrassment. He quickly takes the plates away and brings the check. Seokjin leaves cash again and gets up to leave. Before he’s quite out the door, Yoongi appears beside him one last time, a bit breathless.
“What’s your name?” Yoongi asks. “I mean, if you come again, I should call you something besides ‘Sir’ because you’ll practically be a regular.”
Seokjin hesitates. His name is his stock and trade, in certain circles it’s very well known, and it’s not exactly a common name. He answers anyway, and reaches his hand out. “Seokjin.” Yoongi shakes it and gives him that mega-watt smile again.
“Pleased to meet you," Yoongi says, gripping Seokjin’s hand firmly.
***
When Seokjin comes the third time, he isn’t surprised that the maitre’d leads him past plenty of suitable tables to a particular two seater that just happens to be in Yoongi’s section. It’s Friday night and the place is packed. This will be another big test, on a really busy night; will Fil-Am be in the weeds, will the food taste blasé or will they continue their winning streak. Yoongi’s eyes look tired but when he comes to Seokjin’s table, he instantly brightens upon seeing him, and without even asking, he brings him a very good caipirinha, then recommends that the calamari will be a good salty combination with the sweetness of his drink. It comes in strips instead of rings and is tender rather than chewy, with a hint of lime in the batter.
Yoongi, despite the number of tables he’s working, checks on Seokjin frequently, and always with a smile. When he leaves the receipt this time, there is a phone number on it, and a note saying, 'If you want someone to show you around, call me'. Seokjin leaves his money and tip and leaves quickly, frowning.
Nineteen-year-old girls at Chili's leave their phone numbers. Professional waiters at restaurants hoping for Michelin stars do not. He’s thankful that this is his last visit, and that he won’t have to have any kind of awkward confrontation with Yoongi again. He can just write his piece and move on to covering restaurants in Emeryville and Pleasant Hill and Oakland and not have to deal with Fil-Am, and its beguiling tastes, or Yoongi and his beguiling beauty—fuck, he did not think that—or Berkeley and its beguiling flowers and palm trees and slight hint of weed in the air.
Seokjin keeps the receipt, even after he makes a copy for his reimbursement, and he tells himself that he’s not ever going to actually call some waiter he doesn’t know, no matter how cute he is, or how bright his eyes are, or how charming his gummy smile is, or how much heat he gets in his stomach thinking of him.
Seokjin Kim started reviewing restaurants after legendary food critic Si-Hyuk Bang heard him give a visceral critique of a vinaigrette that had broken. He had worked in Atlanta, Georgia, Salt Lake City, Utah, Seattle, Washington and is now a full-time food critic. He wouldn't let personal affairs get into the line of his work.
***
Fil-Am has received quite a bit of attention from foodies and locals alike for their delicious Filipino and Spanish food, often with a modern American twist. Their seafood, meat, and umami-inspired dishes all delight the palate, and whether they go for lunch or dinner, they are likely to encounter a beautifully displayed meal that would certainly meet the standards of almost any critic. With the exception of an overuse of cilantro in the otherwise perfect ceviche, Fil-Am delivers a lovely atmosphere with little of the technical trickery too commonly misused in modern restaurants. Instead, the flavors speak for themselves, and the dishes are given the proper amount of attention for flavor to build and peak on the plate. While the service may not be up to the standard of some other highly sought out Bay Area restaurants...
“Hey, Yoongi! Did you see this review?” Felipe, the Filipino chef and owner of the Fil-Am restaurant, is waving the paper around. “It’s really good, I mean, about the food, this guy is a little snippy about the service, but what can you expect about some stuck-up asshole that looks like a model of a high fashion brand and is too handsome to be a critic? Do you recognize these dishes? Have any groups that came in and ordered them?”
Yoongi freezes. Model? Handsome? Seokjin? Snippy about the service? Oh, fuck.
He stammers out that he doesn’t remember any groups (that’s true enough) and then spends the rest of his shift distracted by the memory of this man eating with thoughtful bites, surrounded by books, who Yoongi kept playfully suggesting drinks to and flirted with, and God, he gave him his number, which was so unprofessional, he had never even considered it before. But something about that man had just got to him. Firstly, he was so hot with the broad shoulders, plump, red lips and the dandy medium fringe-up hair. Yoongi had given a fucking food critic, out of all people, his fucking phone number. God, why was he such an ass?
The more he thinks about it, the more pissed off he gets at himself, but then somewhere half-way into his shift, he is just pissed.
That guy had lied to him. Pretending to be some kind of Medieval scholar while scribbling notes about the food and Yoongi. He isn’t hot and intriguing, he's a total dick.
And he deserves to know that.
After his shift, Yoongi goes home to change and tell his roommates he isn’t going with them to the rink, then heads out the door. Yoongi uses the time it took on B.A.R.T to get from Downtown Berkeley to Civic Center, where Seokjin’s office is, according to the paper, to calm back down again and plan out what he wants to say that wouldn’t sound petulant, but would get his point across.
The newspaper building is big and slightly intimidating. Yoongi suddenly feels ridiculous and young going into a major business in skinny jeans and a zip up hoodie, but he reminds himself that he's there for a reason, recalls Seokjin’s words about him, “One of the waitstaffs at Fil-Am is as knowledgeable as one would expect, but is perhaps slightly too involved and clingy to be called an excellent server. Expect service with a smile and a few overly personal questions…” He gets angry and embarrassed again just thinking about it. However, he covers it at the receptionist's desk, and flashes a big, friendly smile while telling the girl he can’t remember which way Seokjin’s office is. The receptionist's points it out to him, and Yoongi shrugs his shoulders a few times to psych himself up for the coming confrontation.
When Yoongi finds Seokjin’s office, the door is open and he can see Seokjin pacing while looking out the window and tapping a pen against his wrist. Far from the casual look; jeans, t-shirt, blazer, he had worn at Fil-Am, he's wearing a slim, fitted suit, hair tidily arranged. Yoongi is working up to announce himself but for a second all he can think is that Seokjin is taller than he had expected while standing and is hotter than he remembered. Just as he's about to open his mouth, Seokjin looks up and sees him, surprise immediately illuminating his face.
“Yoongi? Um, what are you doing here?" Seokjin just stands there, staring at Yoongi for a moment before regaining his bearings and gesturing for him to come in, and shutting the clear door behind him. Seokjin goes around to sit behind his desk. Yoongi doesn’t sit.
“You lied to me, you dick.” Seokjin flinches and Yoongi continues, “You acted like you were some kind of scholar, and you flirted with me, and you let me act like a total loser, and even when I freaking gave you my number you didn’t tell me you were a critic! You were done with Fil-Am, you could have said something, so I wouldn’t have to find out when my boss showed me your stupid review!” Yoongi knows he's probably red, and he's usually really good natured, but this angry outburst seems to take a lot out of him, he sinks into one of the chairs in front of Seokjin’s desk.
“If you think you acted like a loser, it’s not like I let you do anything. I just ate at your restaurant, it’s not like there is some kind of sacrosanct bond between the customer and the waiter.” Seokjin knows he sounds defensive, and he is, because he had actually wondered if Yoongi would see the review and know it's him he's talking about. What he didn't expect is that the kid (he looks much younger sitting in Seokjin’s fancy office) seems to have taken it personally. “And I didn’t flirt with you.” Shit, that just makes it seem more obvious that he knows he had. What had he been thinking, seriously?
“Like hell you didn’t. I was nice to you, and thought you seemed nice, and you made me look like a fool. God, I can’t believe I even came here to tell you this, obviously if you have any sense of decency, you wouldn’t have written it in the first place.” Yoongi launches himself out of the chair and turns to the door.
“Wait!” Seokjin stands up and walks over to the wait. “I won’t apologize for what I wrote, because it was true, and I won’t apologize for being an undercover, it’s part of my job, but I did get too personal with you too. I never use my real name, I don’t even know why I wanted to tell you, but I did, and I should have stayed more aloof," he pauses. “And maybe I should have called you before the article came out.” Yoongi nods tersely and walks out of the office without looking back.
***
The next night when Yoongi gets home from work and throws his keys on the table, Namjoon shouts to him from the couch, where he’s eating Pringles and watching TV, “Hey dude, some handsome guy brought something by for you. It’s in that bag on the counter.”
Yoongi sees the bag, a tall, thin gift bag and pulls out a bottle of chardonnay—fuck, a really nice bottle of chardonnay—and a note.
I’m sorry we didn’t meet under better circumstances. If you would like to start over, call me.
Seokjin Kim
A phone number is scribbled on the back. Seokjin had come to his grotty apartment and met Namjoon and left an expensive apology gift. Yoongi wanders into the common room, still clutching the bottle of wine.
Namjoon looks up. “That's what in the bag? Nice man, where’d you meet a dude like that? Does he wanna be your sugar daddy?” At this, Yoongi flushes red and plops down next to his bestfriend.
“Shut up, Joon. It’s just from this guy I met okay?”
Namjoon raises an eyebrow. “Just this guy? Just this guy met you and felt compelled to find out where you live and bring you a gift? That sounds like a stalker-loser and this guy did not look like a loser. Hey, Hoseok!” he yells. “Get off the bird app and get your ass here. Our Yoongi needs some good ol' love advice!"
Yoongi groans as his other roommate comes out of his room.
“Hey, remember how I told you that guy came by with the gift for Yoongi? It’s wine, and Yoongi's claiming it’s nothing. We need the real story.” Namjoon shifts on the couch to face Yoongi fully as he mutes the TV.
“Okay Yoon, out with the full story. Or else that drunk video I took last month gets public.”
“Hobi, that's blackmail.”
“Dude, it’s negotiation. Either spill your guts to your bestfriends about what’s up with wine-guy or the entire world gets to see you drunkenly stammering about how you want some handsome guy’s hands rubbing all over your body.”
Suddenly, Namjoon eyes get huge when he realizes something. “It’s the same guy! The guy with the wine is handsome as fuck! Yoongi! You like that guy, why are you acting all weird?”
Yoongi puts his face into the arm of the coach, thinking of a plan to escape his bestfriends' interrogration.
“Dude, it’s this or the internet,” Hoseok threateningly says.
Yoongi raises his head again and sighs in resignation. “Okay. He turned out to be a food critic, and he wrote some shitty stuff about me in the paper, and I was pissed that he lied to me and made me look bad, and that’s why I skipped out on you guys yesterday, I went to his office and yelled at him. I don’t know why he brought the wine, it’s not like I ever want to face him again.”
Namjoon and Hoseok look at each other. “Yoongi, man, unless he called your mother a whore in the paper, I think this is a pretty classy move," Namjoon puts in.
“Is there a note, what did it say?” Hoseok asks.
“Yeah, there's a note.” Yoongi gets the note from his pocket and hands it to Namjoon, while Hoseok cranes his neck over Namjoon's shoulder to read it.
“Please tell me you are going to call him. Just call and thank him, and see if he says anything else," Hoseok says while grinning mischievously.
“Yoongi, the guy is smoking hot. He brought you wine. He said he’s sorry, and you guys aren’t even dating. The last guy you dated drank Bud Light, and didn’t even apologize after he ruined your favorite shirt. Call the guy. But wait until tomorrow," Namjoon suggests.
***
It actually isn’t until Saturday that Yoongi decides to call Seokjin, because he felt like it would be a cop out to call when he knew Seokjin would be at work, and then he had the dinner shift on Friday. So with Hoseok and Namjoon listening at the door, he dials the number written on the back of the card.
After a couple of rings, Seokjin picks up. “Hello. This is Seokjin Kim speaking," he says in his business-like tone. Yoongi feels his mouth go dry and suddenly he can’t believe he had yelled at this guy, but now he's calling him hoping for a date. “Hello?” Seokjin says again.
“Um, hey Seokjin, this is Yoongi. I just wanted to thank you for the gift. It, uh, was nice," Yoongi finishes lamely, and he wants to stuff his face in his pillow. He feels a little better when Seokjin’s voice seems a little less confident on the other end.
“Yeah, well, I wanted to make it up to you, and I seem to recall you might like a sweeter white.”
“Yeah, I’m sure it’s good. So… uh.. thanks.” Should he say good bye? Would it seem like he was fishing to keep talking?
"No problem.”
Neither of them speak for an awkward moment, and then they both speak at once.
“Well, I have to—“
“Um, would you like—“
They both laugh a little nervously. “You first," Yoongi urges.
“Well, I was serious about starting over. I don’t really know anyone in the Bay Area yet, and I usually cook dinner for my friends Sunday night. And since I don’t have any friends yet, if you wanted to come over, that would be nice.”
“Um. Yeah, the restaurant is closed on Sundays. I could come.” Yoongi hears some jostling from the hallway. “Mission district? Okay. Yeah. That sounds good. Thanks. Bye.”
When he opens the door, his bestfriends are both grinning like idiots. Yoongi rolls his eyes at them.
“He invited me over to dinner, but it didn’t really sound like a date, more like a ‘let’s be friends’ thing.”
“Oh come on. Are other people going to be there?”
“No.”
“It’s a date, dude.”
“Whatever, I have to get to work, have fun watching some Meg Ryan movie and crying like the saps that you are.” Yoongi heads out the door with a little spring in his step. Maybe, he thinks to himself, it really is a date.
***
Sunday afternoon, he and the other guys usually go roller blading through Berkeley, a tough, hilly workout that really demands his concentration, since they try to keep the speed up. Going downhill is a rush, and it always feels on the verge of uncontrollably fast, where Yoongi has to concentrate on not wiping out, and then uphill he has to pump himself up for each burning stroke, so he doesn’t really have time to get nervous until he's standing in his room wearing only his underwear, looking in his messy closet.
How casual should he dress? It's just going to a friend’s house for dinner, right? Unless it is, like, a candle-lit date dinner, in which case, maybe he should dress up. He finally settles on a button down shirt with some nice jeans. He looks in the mirror with the shirt untucked, then tucked, then untucked again. Damn it, he is twenty-two, and Seokjin is… well, he doesn’t know how old Seokjin is, but Yoongi is sure Seokjin is older than him, and he should be able to play this cool. Should he wear cologne? Is that totally lame? Yoongi settles on spraying it in the air and walking through it like he saw girls do, and then sets out.
This time, Hoseok is on the couch, and upon seeing Yoongi, he lets out a wolf-whistle. “Damn, Yoon, you’re cleaning up nice. So much for it not being a date. Are you bringing him flowers?”
“Go screw yourself, Hoesuck. I just didn’t want to look bad... is it really too much? Fuck.” Yoongi runs his hand through his hair, forgetting he had just spent thirty minutes making it look right.
“Dude, I’m just trifling with you, I’m sure he’ll like that you tried to look nice, just go kill it bro.” With that stellar advice, Hoseok ignores Yoongi's retorts in favor of playing Mario Kart.
***
Seokjin had decided to pursue Yoongi after the Yoongi had left his office and he had thought over what he had said. So yeah, it's true, he had flirted back with him, and obviously he, Seokjin, thought it had mattered enough for Yoongi to come into the city and confront him instead of sending an angry letter or e-mail. And when he was standing in his office doorway, not in his waiter’s get up, just himself, adorable, sexy and confident in being right, Seokjin had suddenly wished so badly that he had been just some scholar and he could’ve just called the phone number on the receipt, and asked him out and then Yoongi would have just come to his office to tell him to stop working so hard and make him enjoy the afternoon after the fog had burned off and before the smog had set in.
So somewhat impulsively, he had bought the wine, written the note, charmed one of the fact-checkers into finding Yoongi’s address and figured that if Yoongi never called, at least he could feel better about having lied to. Then he had been surprised by how glad he was that Yoongi had called, he had decided to make the meticulous meal that now, is taking longer than he expected. And then there's a knock.
When Seokjin answers the door, he's still wearing a pair of ratty jeans, a frayed t-shirt and has a bandana on to keep his hair out of his face. He had planned on taking a shower, taming his hair into something more presentable, and doing his best to look hot, but his first batch of short grain rice had burnt, and the tempura had been trickier than he had remembered, and he realized, when he only had thirty minutes before Yoongi was supposed to arrive, that he had tried to make too many different kinds of sushi, and now, that has to be Yoongi at the door, a thoughtful ten minutes late. All in all, Seokjin's a mess and a nervous wreck.
Seokjin is torn between trying to at least put a dress shirt on top, but that will make Yoongi wait too long at the door, so he just goes ahead and opens the door. And fuck, does Yoongi look so good. Slim jeans and a charcoal grey oxford emphasized his figure, he has that sexy shoulder-to-hip ratio that makes Seokjin want to run his hands up and down his sides to feel the angle. And now Seokjin's staring as if boring holes on the Yoongi's body.
Even, if he looks bad, maybe he can be a good host. “Hey, Yoongi, thanks for coming. I’m a little behind, so I didn’t have time to change, but you look really great.” Smooth, Seokjin. If you are planning on keeping this slightly-less-than-date-like, you just failed, he thinks. He lets Yoongi enter his apartment and shows him to the living room, which has a great view, being on the fourth floor.
“Hey, great place.” Yoongi says, taking in the minimalist furniture.
“Yeah, ever since I moved out of my Dad’s place, he always comes by to make sure my house is all feng shui and rearranges my stuff, so I finally just went along with it and now I try to keep everything pretty basic.” Seokjin leads Yoongi to the coffee table where there's edamame and sake. “Um, I have some Japanese beer too. I’m into Japanese stuff, so that’s kind of the theme of the meal, if you don't mind.”
Yoongi chuckles. “No, I don't. Also, sake is fine. I was going to return the favor and bring some wine, but since I didn’t know what I was pairing it with, I came empty handed instead. My mom would flip out if she knew I didn’t bring the host something, but, whatever." He shrugs and then, he flashes that bright smile again, and Seokjin feels his face relax into a grin too. Probably a dorky one, Jesus, is he really almost thirty or fifteen?
Seokjin sits down on the chair to the left of the couch he had gestured Yoongi to sit on, and as he pours their sake, they go through the awkward motions of squeezing out the edamame. He preens to himself, feels like this might work.
Actually, when he got over of being exhilirated that Yoongi had agreed to see him, Seokjin, like the worrywart that he is, has suddenly been strike by all sorts of worries, like; what if they have nothing in common, what if once they're in the same room, their almost eight years gap in age will be like an insurmountable gulf, what if Yoongi will be turned off by him-- but now those fears are fading.
They talk about the states they'd lived in; Yoongi used to lived in Washington and Utah, while Seokjin used to live in Washington, New York, Utah, a short stint in Vegas, and now he lives in San Francisco. Also, the differences between their lives growing up; Yoongi grew up with his stepmom, dad, two older brothers and three dogs, while Seokjin is the only child of a single parent. Eventually, they move to the dinner table and Yoongi’s eyes get huge as he takes in all the work Seokjin had done to make the homemade ramen and five or six different rolls of sushi, just for the two of them.
“Wow, this looks amazing, it must have taken forever,” Yoongi says, scooting his chair in and picking up his chopsticks.
Seokjin is actually a bit embarrassed by his efforts, like it's all too much and he is obviously trying too hard. He rubs the back of his neck, not meeting Yoongi’s gaze. “Well, I like food, so when I cook I like to do it right.” When he glances back up, Yoongi’s eyes aren’t on his face either, but are glued to where Seokjin’s shirt has ridden up when he reaches behind his head. Well, that is promising too. Yoongi’s eyes jerk guiltily back to Seokjin’s face as Seokjin moves, sitting across from him. Seokjin feels more in control of himself now as he cuts the rolls into bite-sized pieces, giving Yoongi a couple pieces of each.
“Let’s dig in, shall we?” Seokjin flashes Yoongi his best charming smile, and the meal passes by with good conversation, accompanied by Yoongi’s extravagant compliments about the food. They finish with matcha ice cream as the dessert, on the small balcony, both of them eating slowly, as if after they finish the ice cream, there will be no reason to linger any longer. And then, they're both done, but it doesn’t matter. Somewhere along the way, they have gotten onto the topic of music, and it seems like Yoongi could stay on the topic forever. Seokjin feels like the Yoongi might like that and so he keeps encouraging him to go talk about the music he likes. Now, Yoongi's talking about some band called Over the Rhine.
“I mean, once you hear Karin open her mouth, you just feel like you’ve been transported into a speakeasy where everyone is smoking handrolled cigarettes and drinking bourbon. It makes you want to melt, and the lyrics are just… so lyrical, even when they don’t mean anything, they make you feel something, you know?”
Yoongi looks so earnest, and even though Seokjin really doesn’t know the band he's talking about, he nods, just to make the Yoongi smile.
“Um, and they are actually going to be in town this week, at the Fillmore. I already got the night off from work, and Namjoon and Hoseok have no appreciation for music without a pounding bassline, so if you want to come, that would be cool.”
Seokjin finds himself agreeing, although he tends to think that music is what could be danced to, not what could be nodded along with, but he had drank a lot of sake, and Yoongi’s eyes seem brighter than usual, and Seokjin's pretty sure that if the Yoongi suggests they'll go hang gliding, he would’ve agreed to that too.
After a couple of hours of them being emerged in conversation, Yoongi checks at his watch and says that if he doesn’t leave soon, he will probably miss the train back. There's some hesitation when Yoongi reaches for the doorknob as he looks at Seokjin, but Seokjin just goes for it, and tilts his head up to kiss Yoongi’s soft, pink lips, while Yoongi’s hands clench at his sides, warm through the thin fabric of his shirt. Seokjin thinks it’s probably the best first kiss on a date he’s ever had, and Yoongi seems to enjoy it too, because it definitely goes beyond the technical definition of first kiss into first make out session, but then, Seokjin realizes that he either needs to invite Yoongi to stay over, or let go of his hips, and looking at the young, flushed face before him, he decides on the latter, and watches him walk away, somewhat feeling forlorn, having promised to see him on Wednesday at the show.
***
At first Seokjin had been a little uncomfortable listening to a throaty woman sing while her husband played a huge piano, but when he's halfway through his second beer, and Yoongi slips his hands around his waist and rests his head on his shoulder, it suddenly seems worth it. As he relaxes under the Yoongi's touch, he starts to enjoy it more, and feels less out of place amidst all the hipsters with their chunky glasses-- Yoongi is wearing them too, but Seokjin kind of finds it sexy, just like everything that he is-- and more like he's just a guy on a date with an adorable yet sexy Yoongi.
When Linford encourages the crowd to dance, Seokjin turns around and pulls Yoongi close to him and begins to step in time to the rhythm of the music. Yoongi looks both surprised and delighted, and it makes Seokjin feel a lot less nervous at the fact that they're one of very few dancing couples, because he's pretty sure the smile is definitely worth it. After listening to a couple hours of crooning, the show is over, and Yoongi is so excited he can’t stop talking about how much he loved the way Karin and Linford eyefucked during ‘Trouble’, and he grasps Seokjin’s hand and twirls around, eyes shining while they walk to the station. They get there and Yoongi, who’s lived in the area for so much longer, explains the best way to get back to his apartment, and before he can think better of it, Seokjin asks if he would rather just come back to his place for the night.
When Seokjin blurts out that finding his way home would be easier if Yoongi comes with him and spend the night at his place, Yoongi isn’t really sure what kind of invitation it is. The sexy kind? And should he have sex on a second date? He wants to, sure, Seokjin is gorgeous and sexy and both their dates have been way better than expected, but still. Then he looks at Seokjin’s face, and he sees a twinge of fear in Seokjin’s light brown eyes, fear that he will say no, and so Yoongi agrees to spend the night. Seokjin smiles and runs a hand through his hair--Yoongi is starting to realize this is a reassuring gesture for Seokjin-- and they both act a little awkward on the way back to Seokjin’s apartment, because they’ve basically agreed that they are about to have sex, but now, on a train ride, they have to think about whether it will be good or bad, all while talking about how neither has played an instrument, but Seokjin would like to play guitar and Yoongi would like to learn to play piano.
When they get to Seokjin’s apartment, they are barely through the door before they are suddenly kissing. Yoongi manages to kick off his shoes and pull Seokjin’s shirt off before they’ve even gotten down the hallway.
“God, I’m so glad you said yes.” Seokjin says in between kisses. “I’ve been thinking about you all week, and I swear you look more gorgeous than I remember.”
Yoongi had gotten his shirt off too, so that Seokjin can see his tattoo for the first time. He traces his fingers over the design, and looks at Yoongi questioningly.
“I like flowers, especially roses.” Yoongi says before Seokjin starts to lick the inked sliver of skin, pausing to give his nipple extra attention.
Seokjin then leads him to his bedroom, which is just as bright and carefully understated as the rest of the apartment, only with an enormous bed.
Seokjin seems to get his bearings once he's faced with Yoongi actually in his bedroom, as he looks directly at Yoongi with serious eyes. “Um, this is probably obvious, but I want to have sex with you, full on, my cock in your ass sex. And I would be okay with, you know, just frotting or jerking each other off, but, uh, I guess I should go ahead and ask what you want.”
Yoongi’s dick twitches at the thought of Seokjin naked and needy, preparing him. “Yeah. Yeah, s'okay. I actually want that too.”
Seokjin lets out a sigh that is half of a laugh and half relief, and takes off his shoes and jeans, revealing a bulge in his boxers. He grabs Yoongi’s belt loops and pulls him closer to him as they fall on the bed together.
Yoongi feels like he must be pressing the taller man into the bed uncomfortably, but Seokjin seems content to have Yoongi on top of him for the moment, and while the Yoongi props himself up on his forearms, Seokjin runs his hands over his back, dipping into the waistband of his pants.
“You were right, as soon as you came to my table, I wanted you, and you were so fucking adorable with your sparkling, kitten eyes and smile that it killed me to think that my review might hurt you.” Seokjin buries his face in Yoongi’s shoulder, biting the juncture there lightly, before starting to kiss his way up the side to Yoongi’s ear. “And then you came into my office, and called me out on it… and thanks for giving me a chance.” He nips at Yoongi’s ear, and grips his ass more firmly as he grinds up against him.
Yoongi moans, it's been a while since he had gotten laid, and Seokjin’s hot breath and tongue and hands are driving him crazy. Placing a kiss on the center of Seokjin’s chest, he sits back on his haunches and unbuttoned his jeans, then he lays down to wiggle out of them and kick them off. He pulls Seokjin on top of him, enjoying the feeling of his firm body pressed against his entire length, and enjoying it even more, when Seokjin settles so that their hips rest slightly off center, their cocks are tight against the other’s thigh.
And after they finish, Seokjin uses one of their undershirts to clean them up a little before they fall asleep curled facing one another.
In the morning, Yoongi wakes up blearily when he hears the shower running. God, he hates that the shower is so loud in his room, and that Hoseok always wakes up so early. Then as he rolls over, he realizes he isn’t in his bed, and that he's in Seokjin’s. He stretches out against the empty space, feeling a pleasant soreness on his ass. He's glad that Seokjin, not Hoseok, is the one in the shower. Squinting at the clock, he sees that it's still early, so he rolls his face into the pillow and falls back to sleep.
When Seokjin comes out of the shower, Yoongi is sprawled across most of the bed, his back mostly bare, and his hair messily spread across the pillow. Seokjin loves it. There are few things as sexy as seeing your recently-fucked lover in your bed, and as he pulls on his pants, shirt, tie, and finally jacket, he keeps glancing at Yoongi. Finally, checking his watch, he knows he only has a few minutes before he has to get to work, so he sits on the side of the bed, and kisses Yoongi’s shoulder, as he shakes him awake. Yoongi smiles sleepily and for an instant Seokjin considers to ditch his work and takes his suit off to have another go, but he's still new to the job, and really can’t afford to have a bad record.
“Mmm, Jin," Yoongi mumbles in a deep, gravelly voice.
Seokjin cooes and he plants a soft kiss on the Yoongi's puffy, red cheeks. “Good morning, sunshine.” he replies, smoothing Yoongi’s hair ever so softly. “I have to get to the office, but you’re welcome to stick around as long as you want and help yourself to breakfast, there’s coffee in the kitchen—Peet’s, not Starbucks—but I need to get to work.”
Yoongi darts a glance to Seokjin’s mouth, and he takes the hint and kisses him. Having a sensitive palate does not go well with morning breath, so Seokjin steels himself for the kiss, but the combination of his cold, mint-flavored mouth, and Yoongi’s warm, wet mouth seem so perfect.
“So… last night was great, all of it. Maybe we could get together again this weekend?”
Yoongi nods, too eagerly, and runs a hand lazily up Seokjin’s crisp shirtfront, to pull him down for another searing kiss.
Seokjin disentangles himself from Yoongi, before he really is going to be late. He walks from his apartment to the bus stop with a smile.
***
Since Seokjin works at days and Yoongi mostly works at nights, they really only get to see each other a couple times a week. Yoongi goes with Seokjin to a few restaurants he’s reviewing and Seokjin finds that Yoongi’s company isn’t as distracting as he thought it might be, and being on a date is great cover because no one wonders about lovers feeding each other or bites off one another’s plates.
After Yoongi’s night shifts, it’s usually too late to go into the city, so Wednesday and Sunday nights are the only times they get to spend time together, but Seokjin gets bored thinking of synonyms for ‘delicious’ and calls Yoongi during the day to hear the smile in his voice.
When they’ve been seeing each other for a little over a month, Seokjin goes with Yoongi to hear a band at a bar down the street from Yoongi’s apartment and spends the night, the two of them entwined together on Yoongi’s tiny bed. Yoongi seems a little embarrassed by his apartment since it does kind of scream ‘college!’ with the haphazard pile of video game controllers and Namjoon’s giant Tony Hawk poster, compared to the adultness of Seokjin’s. The walls are paper thin, and even though they are trying to be quiet in that we’ve-had-too-much-to-drink way, Hoseok pounds on the wall, and Seokjin has to bite down on Yoongi’s shoulder to stay quiet as he cums inside of the Yoongi.
The next morning, Seokjin is making coffee in his boxers, grimacing at the state of the coffee pot before finding a French press that is more to his liking, when one of Yoongi’s roommates stumbles into the room, scratching his ass. It's the one who usually had the backwards hat on, who had answered the door when Seokjin brought over the wine.
“Dude, so we finally get to see you.” He pulls a carton of orange juice out of the fridge and drinks straight from the container. “Other than skating we barely see Yoongi any more, but he seems happy.” He puts the orange juice back and wipes his mouth. “Good job, man.”
Before Seokjin can make any kind of reply, he shuffles off again, and judging from the sounds in the other room, starts playing video games, then is joined by the other roommate, so that while Seokjin carefully plunges the coffee, all he can hear is the two bickering to each other like a married couple. Looking through the meager supplies of the fridge, he pulls some stuff out and begins to poach a few eggs. By the time, Yoongi slides his arms around Seokjin’s chest, gets on his tiptoes and rests his chin on his shoulder, Seokjin has made the closest thing this apartment has ever seen to eggs benedict, and when all four of them are eating it at the table, Yoongi’s roommates keep taking bites and then looking at him with wonder.
“Okay, I forgive the sex noises, this is worth it. I’m about to make my own sex noises right now," Hoseok proclaims, making Namjoon laugh and Yoongi blush.
While he's in the kitchen cooking earlier, looking at the stupid toilet humor phrases made out of word poetry on the fridge, and taking in that the quality of beer is far higher than the quality of cheese, Seokjin suddenly felt like maybe he's too old for Yoongi, that if this is Yoongi’s natural environment, Seokjin might not fit in, but now, as Yoongi grabs his hand under the table, and Namjoon and Hoseok start making small talk, he thinks that maybe they fit together just right.
***
Felipe closes Fil-Am for a week of vacation around the end of the summer, so Seokjin invites Yoongi to come with him to Napa for a week while he attends the crush parties. They dress up and go to the French Laundry, where Seokjin tells Yoongi that since he isn’t there on business, they should fuck with the waiter so Yoongi can see how the best waiters deal with customers. So they sit on the same side of the booth and ask ridiculous questions about the meal, and Yoongi makes his eyes hugely wide while he pretends to not understand the wine list. The food is, as expected, spectacular, and they drink two bottles of wine, and the waiter never breaks away from his carefully neutral expression.
“See, this guy didn’t even tell us his name because he knows we don’t need it.”
“I told you my name so you’d know what to scream later," Yoongi says and grins at the bad line which makes Seokjin laugh too, feeling warm from the wine and Yoongi pressed against his side.
They pay the bill with Seokjin’s credit card, and the only expression the waiter makes the entire night is when his eyes widen at the name on the card, which makes Yoongi and Seokjin grin even more.
***
It’s a great week of sunshine and vineyards, food and wine, lazy morning sex, and dressing up for parties at night. Neither wants to go back to their two dates a week schedule in the city. They are sated for the time being late one night and it’s too hot to be too close together, so they are lying next to each other in bed, one leg touching, and Yoongi is idly twirling Seokjin’s hair, when Seokjin bites the bullet.
“So, I know your lease is up in a few weeks, and Namjoon and Hoseok are moving back to Salt Lake City to settle there,” he begins. It's still quite a shock for him when he learned that Namjoon and Hoseok are, in fact, in a relationship with each other and Yoongi's being a third wheel in their place all along. He takes a deep breath. “and I thought maybe instead of finding a new place you could move in with me.”
Yoongi shifts to his side, moving his hand from Seokjin’s hair because he’s propping himself up with that arm, “Seokjin, wow. I mean, that would be great, and I appreciate the offer, but you know I can’t commute from your place and work nights. And we both know I don’t want to work at Fil-Am forever, but I can’t really quit my job to live with you.”
Seokjin knows that it's what Yoongi would say. He sits up, criss cross applesauce, on the messy bed. “Well, I know that. But last week my editor—you know Taehyung is in charge of all the entertainment stuff—told me they were looking for a new music critic and asked if I knew anyone and I said I might know someone who was interested. And it’s been established that you aren’t the world’s best waiter, so…” Seokjin says as he stares at Yoongi’s tattoo instead of his face, and then, he looks up at his face to gauge his reaction.
“You think I could do that? Write about music?”
“Well, you’d have to cover more than your little indie bands, but yeah, you have a good ear, and you are good at putting how music makes you feel into words. And you could move into the city. With me.”
Yoongi flops onto his back again. “Wow. Seokjin.” He looks over at him and his voice gets a bit heavier. “You’ve been really thinking about this? About us being together?”
“Um. Yeah. I want you to live with me, and not just because you need a place once your lease is up.” With Yoongi’s eyes studying him so intently, Seokjin suddenly feels too exposed sitting up, so he falls against the bed for a lower profile.
Yoongi’s hand snakes out to grab his and smiles so brightly. “Okay. I’ll do it. I'll live with you.”
Seokjin exhales deeply as he tightly squeezes Yoongi’s hand. Yeah. This is going to work out.