Work Text:
Yoongi likes working at the convenience store.
He doesn’t love it, but he likes it.
He’s worked here for just over a year now. The store is just a walk away from his university, so it’s easy enough to get to after he’s finished his last class of the day. The metro trip home usually lulls him to sleep, but he’s only missed his stop twice because of it.
The job helps him pay the bills (for his tiny, dingy and precious apartment) and thanks to working a lot of late shifts, he always has fun customer stories to tell during parties or hangouts with friends. Some include businessmen literally falling asleep while handing him cash, one of a lady who came in to buy soy sauce four times during the same day, two of different women going into labour in the store within the span of two weeks.
Yoongi likes telling the stories, likes being a part of so many peoples’ lives or even just guessing what the most mundane customers’ lives are actually like. Most people just walk in and out, of course. It’s not a restaurant, the usual visit lasts no longer than about ten minutes (fifteen, tops).
It’s a Thursday evening, about nine in the evening. Yoongi is checking the time on his watch, repeatedly. It’s been a boring day. There are no new stories, only a slight question mark for the health of the kid who came in and bought three cans of soda earlier (Yoongi doesn’t want to judge, but he worries for the kid’s teeth). Everyone else has mostly been adult office workers, grabbing a light lunch or a mediocre yet fast dinner.
Tick tock. Yoongi sighs deeply, leaning over the counter, eyeing his empty surroundings.
He’s alone in the store right now, his co-worker having left an hour early because of an exam he had to study for. Yoongi likes him, gave him a thumbs up when the guy begged for Yoongi to not tell their boss he left early. His name is Jungkook. Jungkook is nice. Yoongi likes ruffling his hair when he gets pouty over bad test marks and likes paying for his dinner when it’s obvious the kid is low on cash.
Tock tick. Yoongi leans back in his chair. He’s not supposed to be sitting down during work hours. His boss scolds him for it when he notices. But his boss isn’t here now, so what does Yoongi care? He doesn’t. Not at all.
The bell chimes when the door opens, singing that cheery musical tune that Yoongi can probably hum in his sleep by now. Yoongi jolts up from the chair. Force of habit, he still does not care.
He collects himself, eyes finding the new customer.
Oh.
Yoongi recognizes the familiar face immediately.
It’s this guy who’s been visiting a lot during late evenings. It’s usually during Yoongi’s shifts, since that’s just how his schedule works.
This guy is… handsome. Like, ridiculously so. Punch-you-in-the-face and kick-you-in-the-gut kind of handsome. Perfectly silky black hair, unlike Yoongi’s black which is frizzy thanks to all that awful bleaching he did to it during high school. Sultry yet bright doe eyes (unlike Jungkook’s doe eyes which seem permanently open in a surprised, round O shape) that often meet Yoongi’s during check-out. And a pair of lips that look like he’s been suckling on an ice-cold popsicle for the past hour or two.
Yoongi might’ve had to mentally mop up his jaw off of the floor after the first time he saw the guy.
The thing is, despite his blinding beauty, he’s got an odd taste in what he chooses to purchase. It’s always, without fail, no exceptions, a packet of gummy candy. Sometimes he spices it up by choosing another brand of gummies, but it’s still just… gummy jellies. Jiggly, and in Yoongi’s opinion, disgusting plastic-y sugar blobs. Yoongi likes sweets just fine, he won’t say no to a lollipop if he’s craving sugar. But he’s convinced that gummy jellies might just be the food of Satan. And here stands a man who looks like he was sculpted by Aphrodite herself, buying packet after packet of gummy candy.
He usually stops in between nine and eleven to buy his devil candy. He’s even smiled at Yoongi over the counter a couple times, as if to say “Yes, I’m here again”.
So, here he is, again. Walking towards the candy section, again. Yoongi hears the familiar plastic rustle of the bag the man always picks out. Soon enough, he’s standing by the counter again, gently placing the gummy candy in front of Yoongi to scan. He’s smiling sheepishly.
Yoongi grabs the bag of candy, scanning it with an amused eyeroll. He doesn’t think the guy would catch it, but apparently, he does.
“No judgement, mister store clerk. A man needs his gummy snacks.” Is what the man says, those being the first words he’s ever spoken to Yoongi.
Yoongi’s head short-circuits, not expecting to hear anything from him today either. He’s got this beautiful, gentle voice which surprisingly makes his outer appearance seem even more soft. Yoongi thinks he might need that mop again. But first he needs to answer. Oh God, he needs to answer. What should I say? Yoongi panics.
“Better than liquor, I guess.” He finally replies, not managing to make direct eye contact with the customer. He’s so awkward, that was not supposed to come out as monotone as it did.
The man behind the counter chuckles, breathing relief into every nook and cranny of Yoongi’s being.
“I suppose you’re very much right.” He nods, handing Yoongi the cash to pay for his late evening snack. Always the exact amount, never forcing Yoongi to count the difference and fumbling with tiny coins, now that’s what you call sexy in the convenience store world.
Yoongi hands him the receipt, thanking him for shopping there.
The man gives a gentle bow, smiling again as he stuffs the pack of candy into his pocket. “Thank you, mister store clerk.”
There’s a frog in Yoongi’s mouth and it jumps out without him meaning to. “It’s Yoongi.”
“Excuse me?”
Yoongi feels his ears burn, “My name. It’s Yoongi.”
Realization washes over the customer, then he nods. “Well then, thank you, Yoongi. See you around.”
The bell chimes, singing a tune as the man disappears around the street corner under the bright neon lights of the store signs. Yoongi takes a couple steps back, sitting down and melting into the chair once more. He brings up his hands to cover his ears. They’re warm. He could’ve just said goodbye, but somehow it felt important that the man would know his name. It’s embarrassing, so embarrassing.
He hopes the man comes around soon again.
---
“No, Jungkook,- Listen, I’ll clean it up. It’s fine, I’ll be there soon.” Yoongi assures his co-worker over the phone as he struggles to shove his textbooks into his backpack. “You can go home as soon as I’m there, promise. Just,- just sit down and try not to throw up anywhere else, alright?”
A meek “Alright, thank you, hyung.” Comes from the other end of the line. Poor kid can’t catch a break, overworking and worrying himself to the point of sickness. Yoongi promises himself to take the kid out to eat well sometime soon. He speed-walks from university to the store, arriving an extra seven minutes earlier than he usually does.
Thankfully there’s still time before the usual dinner-buying folk arrive, so Yoongi has time to (gently) shove Jungkook out of the store after forcing him to promise to take better care of himself and then to clean up the mess left by the kid. It’s fine, he’ll manage.
---
Ten thirty-four ticks the clock. Yoongi isn’t bored, as he decided to snatch a magazine from the stand near the exit. He’s currently half-way through a tacky dating quiz that he started for laughs. It’s obviously written for a demographic which doesn’t include him, but he can amuse himself when need be. And who doesn’t want to know what kind of guys they attract?
What type of music do you listen to? Hip-hop, duh. Although I won’t shit on a good classical piece.
What do you notice first in another person? I’d like to say something romantic like eyes, but someone’s outfit and fashion sense tells so much upon first glance.
What kind of build would you want your partner to have? No one would catch me dead saying this, but no one is watching, so I’ll check “Bigger than me”. Nobody has to know, nobody will know.
Yoongi answers a couple more. The test results are in.
“Silly but kind.” He reads at the bottom of the page. “He understands you and loves how you laugh at his jokes (even when they're not really funny), it makes him really happy. Lord, this is so sappy.” Yoongi huffs out a laugh. That was lame, but kind of fun.
Tick tock, ten forty-one.
The bell chimes, singing once more. In walks silky black hair and puffy lips, the Gummy Man. He holds up a hand, greeting the store clerk. “Yoongi-ssi.”
Yoongi quickly throws the magazine onto the seat of the chair as he gets up, bowing slightly to greet the man. He doesn’t say anything, still not used to being on a talking basis with the guy.
Everything goes as usual, the Gummy Man walks to the candy section, gets his gummies and walks up to the register. Yoongi picks the candy up to scan them, not noticing the man lean over to look behind him.
“Were you reading something interesting?” He asks.
Yoongi almost chokes on his own spit. He feels his ears burn. He shakes his head, “It’s just a gossip magazine.”
The man hums and nods, “Like the ones with those tacky and run-of-the-mill dating quizzes about the person of your dreams?”
Yoongi wants to launch himself through the store window, but he keeps his cool. “Yeah, something like that.”
“I took one of those once,” the man laughs, rubbing his neck, “My results included something about someone grounded who is a good cook with a dazzling smile. I mean, that’s quite vague, isn’t it?”
I’m not a bad cook, Yoongi thinks.
“Yeah, kind of ridiculous.” Is what he says.
Before he has the chance to say the amount due for the candy, the man has already extended his hand with the coins ready for Yoongi to receive. Yoongi hums, reaching over to take the money. He doesn’t think about how soft the man’s hands are, about how they look a bit crooked but still long and slender. They’re not like his own, big and sturdy. He doesn’t think about all that, he really doesn’t.
Clink, the money hits the register. The receipt is printed and Yoongi hands it to the man.
“Thank you again, Yoongi-ssi.” The gummy customer says, smiling his usual soft smile that could probably end wars.
“No problem, uhm…” Yoongi realizes he never got the name of Aphrodite’s son.
The man must realize it at the same time, “Ah, Seokjin. My name is Seokjin.” He makes it even more clear by pointing to himself. It’s cute, Yoongi thinks.
“Well then, no problem, Seokjin-ssi.”
They part ways with polite smiles, everything almost going back to a mundane evening shift before Seokjin stops by the door, as if he’s forgotten something. “Oh, and I think the test also said something about a strong pair of hands. That was kind of oddly specific, don’t you think? Maybe it’ll come in hand-y, though.”
Seokjin laughs at himself. He honest to God laughs wholeheartedly at his own atrocious joke and Yoongi is stuck between wanting the earth to swallow him up whole and laughing at Seokjin’s unique laugh that makes his spine tingle.
He settles for an eyeroll, complimented by an honest smile, “Goodnight, Seokjin-ssi.”
---
Seokjin keeps visiting. Sometimes Yoongi sees him two days in a row, sometimes he doesn’t come by for three. It’s not that Yoongi’s whole day relies on whether or not the handsome man comes by, but it’s always a nice surprise. He can’t deny that it brightens up the evening tremendously.
Jungkook happens to meet him a couple times, and they seem to hit it off once the kid gets over his initial stranger danger reaction. Turns out they both share a love for similar video games, which is revealed when Seokjin comments on a pin that Jungkook is wearing on his apron, depicting his favorite Nintendo character.
Now they greet each other like Yoongi and Seokjin do. Well, maybe not exactly the same, Yoongi hopes. He hopes the sheepish smile and even coins are reserved for just him.
---
“You do know we have proper food in this store, right?”
Seokjin looks up from his palm, where he’s counting coins to pay for his usual disgusting jelly candy.
(He’d walked in looking a little frazzled today, as if he’d ran for the past fifteen minutes. It was close to closing time for the store.)
“Gummies are food.” Is all he replies, finally handing Yoongi the coins. Even, as always.
Yoongi laughs, “For five year olds.”
Seokjin crosses his arms and cocks his head, “What do you know? Maybe I have a kid at home.”
“Then you’d be a hot single dad who feeds their kid crap food.” Yoongi counters, maybe not giving himself enough time to think his words over.
Seokjin seems to shift his focus on the part Yoongi had hoped he wouldn’t, “You think I’m hot?”
“That wasn’t the point.”
“But you do?”
The air around them feels warm and stuffy, like a sauna. Yoongi wonders if Seokjin is also having trouble breathing. Wonders if Seokjin also wants to throw himself out a window.
Of course I do. Yoongi thinks. You’re sculpted by Greek gods and I am but a humble mortal merchant who trades disgusting sugar-cubes for moments of your time.
“Yoongi-hyung, the lightbulb in the toilet went out again!” Comes Jungkook’s voice from the backroom, saving the situation.
Yoongi scrambles to print out Seokjin’s receipt and hands it to him, pointing towards the direction of the backroom and trying to convey a look of annoyance, like “Ah, sorry, I’ve sadly got to exit our conversation right at this second”. Seokjin looks at him with a slight smirk to his lips, an amused and knowing tilt to his eyebrow. As if to say, “This isn’t over”.
---
On the days that Seokjin doesn’t visit, Yoongi finds himself oddly startled by the familiar sing-song of the doorbell as new customers walk in. Often, it’s just him alone in the store and his disappointment of seeing someone other than Seokjin step in around the late evening goes by unnoticed by anyone.
But the one time Jungkook is there and sees him forcefully throw his head up from behind the counter when the doorbell chimes at ten fifteen, he doesn’t let Yoongi live it down for the next few hours.
“I practically saw your on-alert cat ears perk up,” Jungkook cry-giggles, holding onto his stomach.
“Silence, brat.” Yoongi throws a bag of Doritos at the kid, disappointed at how easily and fast he catches them. He wonders if he has to bribe Jungkook to not mention a word about this to Seokjin.
(Luckily, as they part ways after closing the shop, Jungkook assures his secret is safe with him. Yoongi offers to take the kid out to eat sometime, wishing him luck with his exams. Jungkook thanks him, but asks to not be reminded of that looming terror just yet.)
---
Grooowl.
Yoongi feels mortified. Why does something which makes him want to jump through glass always happen when Seokjin is standing in front of him, coins in hand.
“Was that your stomach?” Seokjin asks, stifling a giggle as he points towards Yoongi’s tummy (which indeed has been devoid of food and made that loud thundering noise).
Yoongi nods, deflated.
(Truth is, he hadn’t had any time to eat today. He’d woken up late and therefore had no time to grab breakfast, not even a cup of coffee. There had been no moment for lunch either, as he had to finish up a ten page long essay on Emerging Music Markets during that time. Dinner was a lousy third of Jungkook’s dull protein bar, which the kid had kindly offered when they met up for their shift. But that’s about it, so no wonder his stomach was screeching in front of the one person he’d like to stay cool in front of.)
Seokjin hums, then quickly pockets his money. “Wait a second.” He says, walking back into the deeper parts of the store, disappearing between the shelves. He’s gone for less than a minute, seemingly knowing what he went to look for. As he emerges back into Yoongi’s sight, he’s holding two packs of noodles. He immediately notices the name printed on the packets.
“Jin Noodles, really?”
Seokjin sighs dramatically, “Come on, I had a joke prepared and everything.”
“And it would’ve been terrible.” Yoongi insists, but adds, “But I would’ve laughed.”
That puts a shining smile onto the other man’s face, one brighter than the new lightbulb in the restroom that Yoongi fixed a week ago.
“You’re finally eating something other than jelly gummies?” He asks as he scans the items.
Seokjin nods after handing over the money, receipt now in hand, “Yeah, but one is for you.”
He hands one packet to Yoongi, who only looks at him in surprise. He looks at the packet of food, then up at the other man, then back at the packet. He starts shaking his head, “No, Seokjin,-”
“I’m not leaving until you accept it.” Seokjin insists, holding up his other hand in defeat. “You’ll have to listen to my dad jokes for the entire rest of the night unless you take this noodle packet, Yoongi-ssi.”
Reluctantly, Yoongi grabs the noodles. “Spare me of your torture.”
Seokjin only smiles, satisfied that his gift was accepted.
(They end up exchanging numbers that night, after Seokjin had wished for a way to assure that Yoongi had eaten the noodles.
Yoongi remembers how Seokjin had insisted, “You’ll have to send me a photo of an empty bowl, otherwise I’ll have to report you to Mother Earth for wasting food.”
So after coming home and devouring said cup of noodles, he decides to send a selfie to Seokjin of himself holding the empty cup. He knows he wasn’t asked to include his face, but he wanted to. He doesn’t reply to Seokjin’s excessive happy emoticons.)
---
Yoongi wonders if he’s allowed to ask Seokjin out on a date now that they’ve been texting for a while. He wonders, he ponders, he worries.
He’s sure Seokjin likes him. Not sure if he like-likes him (“God, I sound like an eleven year old.” Yoongi sighs.) in the same sense that Yoongi does him. He’d like to think some of the flirting has been intentional and hopeful, more so than just a part of Seokjin’s humour. But he can’t be sure. How could he be sure?
He’s awkward and shy. He’s not bad at feelings, he feels much and strongly. There’s no doubt in his mind that what he feels for Seokjin is romantic, a yearning to finally stand next to him (preferably while also holding his hand), instead of facing him behind a counter. But he wants to do things right. So he worries a little more.
He’s sitting in class, information about the Product and Persona of musical creation passing in through one ear and out the other as he daydreams about a certain Gummy Man.
His phone vibrates. He checks the message.
From Seokjin-hyung
do you want to go out and eat with hyung?
Yoongi feels like someone hit the emergency eject button on his lecture seat because his head launches into the sky, flying on a high like no other.
He types, nervous.
To Seokjin-hyung
like a date?
From Seokjin-hyung
if you want, yes.
To Seokjin-hyung
meet me by the store tonight at nine?
Yoongi crashes down to the surface of the earth when his professor scolds him to put his phone away.
---
It’s eight forty-five and Seokjin walks into the convenience store.
Yoongi finds it amusing when he greets him so nonchalantly, a simple wave of hand as he breezes by towards the candy section. Rustle, footsteps. Seokjin places the usual packet of gummies onto the counter.
Yoongi decides to play along, “So, any big plans for tonight?”
“Mm, just me and my favorite gummies.” Seokjin replies, looking at Yoongi. “What about you?”
He puffs out his chest a little, feeling smug and proud, “I’ve got a date.”
Seokjin lets out an impressed sound, giving him a thumbs up. “Is he handsome?”
“Eh, mediocre.” Yoongi deadpans, but bursts into giggles when he sees the absolutely offended look on the other man’s face. “He’s hilarious though, makes me laugh. But don’t tell him that.”
Seokjin makes a cross sign over his heart, smiling. When he looks up at Yoongi, as their eyes meet, it kind of feels like the rest of the store and their surroundings dim down. It’s nice, just existing together. Yoongi thinks Seokjin has beautiful eyes, wonders if he should’ve answered with eyes to that tacky test he took all that time ago because he sure feels like drowning in the ones he’s looking into right now.
Tick tock, the clock breaks the moment. It’s eight fifty-five.
Yoongi clears his throat, “Hyung, shouldn’t you be going? My date is probably waiting, and I wouldn’t want to be late.”
Seokjin smiles, cocking his head. “Don’t keep him waiting too long.”
“I’ll be fast. Now get outta here.” Yoongi playfully shoves at the other man, then disappearing into the backroom to change from mister store clerk into Min Yoongi, somebody’s date.
---
“You brought your favorite gummies as dessert to this date?” Yoongi rolls his eyes once he notices Seokjin pull out the small bag of jellies out of the pocket of his denim jacket.
They’re sitting on the ground, near a small dock where some small food stands are grilling food and boats with bright lights sail past in the near distance. It’s probably the most romantic scenery Yoongi’s ever had on a date. He thinks he hears music, unsure if its from one of the food stalls or from his own heart. He doesn’t really care though, because his soul is dancing, nonetheless.
“Oh, these?” Seokjin holds up the candy, then shakes his head. “These aren’t my favorite gummies.”
Yoongi furrows his brows, “What do you mean? You said so in the store.”
His date turns to look at him, a knowing smile spreads across his lips, lights from the market and sea sparkling in his eyes as he gazes at Yoongi. “Would you smile for me?” he asks.
Yoongi is confused but does as requested; smiling brightly.
“Those,” Seokjin says, gently lifting Yoongi’s chin with a beautifully crooked finger. “Those are my favorite gummies.”
Understanding, embarrassment and adoration all wash over Yoongi like a tidal wave. He feels his ears burn, chest pounding. It brings him some sort of peace to see Seokjin’s ears equally red.
He’s not sure who leans in first, but he doesn’t much care. As their lips meet, he feels as if there are fireworks going off and parades celebrating them, yet at the same time as if the world has gone still and paused just for them. Yoongi can’t help but smile into the kiss, hoping, no- knowing that he’s Seokjin’s favorite dessert. The bits of sweetness he needs and wants.
He wants to be an endless supply for Seokjin, kissing him deeper.
By the way Seokjin cups his cheek and kisses him back, Yoongi realizes that he’s free to give and take as much as he wants to as well. That this is mutual, this is a never-ending shift of heart.