Chapter Text
☁️
The first time he sees him inside Blue is on a Friday, which is always backbreakingly busy and so fast-paced Jimin has a hard time breathing between taking orders, mixing drinks, restocking and begging the payment terminal to work, the damn thing has been in use for way too long and has a nasty habit of declining the cards of people ordering especially expensive drinks or those who have no cash on them whatsoever. Jimin is pretty sure it has a mind of its own – an evil one, that's for sure – and for some reason hates him exclusively, as Seokjin and other staff have continuously claimed that the thing works just fine for them.
Needless to say, Jimin has a lot going on that day and it's for this reason that he's surprised to have paid attention to anything apart from the drinks in front of him and the cursed terminal.
It's a little past 8 when he's distracted from his task of wiping wine glasses and is raising his head only to witness a ridiculously attractive Asian boy taking a seat on the bar stool with one swift movement. Jimin finds himself taking in a sharp breath, a little mesmerized. Which is weird, considering that he not only sees hot guys on a regular basis but also knows they're most likely not straight – perks of working at a gay club and all. And when something becomes your routine, you kind of stop paying attention as much.
But there is something about this guy – his golden blond hair parted in the middle, his eyeliner done just right and damn, those eyebrows, his whole face in general, if Jimin's being completely honest. The boy is wearing a leather jacket with a simple blue button-up underneath and has this mean look in his eyes, like he either wants to punch or kiss someone, and Jimin can’t believe that this is what ticks all the boxes for him. Can he be even more into the stereotypical bad boy appearance.
He half-expects the guy to order straight whisky or at least a beer, what he doesn't expect is:
"Hi. One Pina Colada, please," he says with a slight accent.
What makes the situation even more absurd is that the boy's voice is so deep it could probably reach the bottom of the ocean, but Jimin keeps his assumptions to himself, only giving the boy a small nod and throwing a customary 'coming right up' on autopilot.
He quickly gets to work, making an extra effort so as not to stare.
Being a bartender has never been Jimin's dream job, but it certainly pays the bills and there is something really nice about the whole process of mixing drinks and, if only for a short period of time, making people feel better; something about listening to their worries and being able to lift even the smallest bit of their burdens never fails to make Jimin's heart flutter with warmth.
It gets a little heavy from time to time – teenagers who come in with fake IDs and confessions that they have nowhere to go after a bad coming out, people losing jobs because of their sexuality, heartbroken partners dealing with their significant ones' infidelity. Some prefer to stay quiet, ordering one strong drink after another, and Jimin doesn't have to know much to recognize the reasoning – they want to forget. Every story, every customer with a devastatingly sad look in their eyes always breaks him a little, takes away from whatever hope he has in humanity. But Jimin would also like to think that those experiences make him less ignorant, more empathetic to people's problems.
Sighing, Jimin cuts off his train of thought and puts a straw into the long glass. Thankfully he had all the ingredients at hand so the cocktail doesn't take long.
"Here you go," Jimin says, putting the drink on the counter and giving the customer a quick smile. Somehow he knows the boy is not here to talk to him, which is a good thing, should be a good thing, but Jimin still can't help but feel a little disappointed over the fact.
"Thanks." The guy smiles back, and maybe Jimin is imagining things but his smile seems like something more than just a polite one. It looks genuine and really doesn't go with that mean look from before. He pays – in cash, thank god – and takes the cocktail. "Blue, huh? I really like it here."
"Glad to hear it."
"Might become a regular if the cocktails are good and all the bartenders are this pretty. I'm Taehyung."
And well. Okay. That's quite a bold thing to say, but Jimin knows how to act bold too.
"Nice to meet you, Taehyung. I'm Jimin. Looking forward to you becoming our regular." He smirks because if there's anything he's confident about it's the quality of his drinks, and also the staff here is terribly handsome, what's up with that. Jimin's not so certain about himself, but he gets hit on often enough, has worked here long enough to know how to hide the hesitation.
Taehyung looks a little thrown off, apparently not anticipating this reply, but still goes to try the Pina Colada.
"This is incredible!" he exclaims after a few sips. "You're also Korean, right?"
"Yep," Jimin says and wonders if he should add something.
"That's cool! I just moved here, haven't really got used to the hectic New York lifestyle. So it's nice to see someone who reminds of home," Taehyung says, switching to Korean somewhere along the way, the familiar tilt of his vowels making Jimin homesick for the first time in a while.
It's not like the situation is weird or new to him. Hell, most of his friends are Korean too. Almost all of them were born in America, though. So Jimin doesn't think they quite get the longing he sometimes feels for the country he left three years ago out of ambition that’s been long gone.
"Daegu, right?" Jimin asks, also in Korean, finding the dialect similar to the one Yoongi – their stone-hearted bouncer during work hours and a big softie who coos at puppies when he's not working – slips into when he's especially tired or drunk.
"Yeah," Taehyung replies, and it seems like he wants to say more, but something makes him turn his head. Jimin automatically looks in the same direction and through a crowded mess of people dancing and making out to some new upbeat song Jimin's not familiar with yet he distinguishes another Asian boy hurriedly making his way to them, clearly having his eyes set on Taehyung. He looks young, younger than Taehyung, and a little lost, like he's not sure where he is and whether he should be here. Jimin sees a lot of boys like him.
"Hi!" the boy practically shouts as soon as he approaches them so that his voice might be heard over the music that always gets increasingly louder at this time of night. "You look nicer in real life," he says and then flinches, his eyes widening just a little. "N-not that you looked bad in the picture."
Taehyung just giggles and Jimin doesn't get to hear his reply, taking orders from a couple probably in their thirties whom he sees at the club every other week and who always tip him generously. He finds their staring and not-so-subtle flirting with him only mildly uncomfortable.
When his attention is returned to Taehyung, it doesn't seem like he missed much.
"It's Jungkook, right?" Taehyung asks and the boy nods, if only a little nervously. "Well, Jungkook, do you want anything to drink?"
Jungkook settles on a beer, and soon enough both boys head for a table, much to Jimin's relieve – or disappointment, depending on which part of his brain you ask, – furthest away from the bar. They quickly fall into what seems like a comfortable conversation and Jimin is too busy to keep up with them, he really is. New customers keep coming in, and he barely has the time to make drinks and fight the evil terminal while also looking out for homophobic assholes somehow slipping through security and creeps trying to put something into someone else's drink and people getting too handsy for their date's comfort after a couple glasses. They have bouncers for these situations, of course, but you can never be too cautious at a night club, especially when its sole purpose is to provide a safe and fun environment for those who are a little too used to the harsh reality of the real world.
So yes, Jimin's so so busy and it's Friday and he is a professional. Except when he is not because he can't pull himself together at all and messes up orders – he might have poured too much gin into a Negroni and forgot to put vodka into a Vodka Martini – and keeps stealing glances at the boy with blond hair and a boxy smile. The boy who is currently (unsurprisingly) kissing his shy date.
It's gonna be a long night, Jimin thinks, sighing into the empty ice bucket.
☁️
Taehyung must have really liked that Pina Colada because the next time he comes to Blue is only a week later. It's Saturday this time and thankfully there are not as many people, even though it's already past 10. A great portion of their customers consists of students from the university across the street and it's finals time, so Jimin is not that surprised by the lack of people. There'll probably be quite a lot next week though, when school's out for summer and they want to either celebrate or drown their misery in alcohol. Oh, Jimin can't wait to spend his weekend serving vodka shots and assuring drunk freshmen that no, one failed exam does not necessarily mean they have to pack their bags and go home.
This time he sees him right away. Taehyung comes in without an ounce of hesitation or uncertainty, heading straight for the bar and spreading this unobtrusively confident vibe all around. Jimin can only mentally tick another box in the list of things he finds hella attractive. The boy's black t-shirt is tucked into skinny jeans – very tight skinny jeans, Jimin concludes despite his efforts not to look down.
"Hello, what can I get you?" he asks, switching to his bartender side and pulling the most neutral face he can, even though 'if all the bartenders are this pretty' is still stuck in his head.
"Hi, um…" The boy eyes the menu on the bar counter for a few seconds before chuckling. "What's a Dirty Martini?"
"Vodka and dry vermouth mixed with olive brine." Jimin doesn't miss the way Taehyung quirks his eyebrow. "Personally, not my favourite thing on the menu," he says, even though he's not supposed to give his personal opinions to the customers, but there's this nagging need to keep talking and Jimin doesn't know what to do about it except succumb to it.
"Okay, noted. Then what would you recommend?"
"Well, Pina Coladas are pretty good, but you already know that, Taehyung-ssi." Jimin replies in Korean.
"Oh, you remembered me!" Taehyung exclaims and Jimin barely holds back his laughter because yeah, hard to forget a person who after (kind of) flirting with the poor bartender spent 3 hours voraciously making out with his date, but it's not like Jimin was counting (or staring). "Yeah, Pina Colada sounds great," the boy decides, consulting with the menu once again.
"One Pina Colada, coming right up." Jimin gets to work, nonchalantly adding to cover his tracks: "I have a good memory, kind of part of the job."
Jimin wants to ask about Jungkook, whether or not it worked out, if they are meeting today as well, but decides that it's a little too much for small talk. Besides, he doesn't want to come off as someone interested.
"So. It's Saturday night and there are like zero people here. What's up with that?"
Jimin shrugs. "Finals week."
"Oh, right. Forgot about that." And that's how Jimin concludes that Taehyung's not in university because even though it's been a while Jimin knows pretty well that it's impossible to forget about the exam period when you're a student. Also, the boy looks too well-rested, the circles under his eyes almost non-existent, for someone who's in university. "More alcohol for me then."
"Guess you're right. Alone tonight?" Jimin asks just to avoid the awkward silence, trying to sound as casual as possible.
"No, I'm actually waiting for someone. But maybe next time I could be waiting for you?" And then Taehyung fucking winks, which is not something that's supposed to happen in real life, they're not in a drama, for fuck's sake. Jimin is so thrown off, he almost drops the shaker in his hand, but he'll be damned if he lets this boy, who's got no shame, see his surprise.
They're obviously playing some kind of game, and Jimin might not know what the rules are and what's at stake but he's sure as hell not going to lose.
"Sorry, honey. I'll probably be busy then."
"But I didn't say when," Taehyung notices, obviously enjoying the whole thing.
"Yeah, I know."
Jimin's not sure what it is about Taehyung's flirting that doesn't make it feel gross or uncomfortable or annoying or like he wants the moment to be over as soon as possible, which is Jimin's usual emotions in those kinds of situation. He's certainly never wished to go along with the conversation. But with this boy Jimin feels… intrigued. He doesn't feel like running away, wants to revel in the moment as much as he can, wants to know more, to hear more, see more, experience more.
Jimin's not used to the feeling.
But the good things never last, so of course the next moment he looks up from his task, there's a man by Taehyung's side, and Jimin is well-aware it's gonna be another long night. Maybe, he should just switch to workday shifts.
☁️
He's not sure how many times Taehyung's been here at this point. The boy has been coming with a new guy every week for the past month and a half, like he's on some damn schedule. So Jimin has kind of lost count of his appearances, especially since they're always more or less the same – Taehyung comes in, orders a Pina Colada, says something ambiguously flirty to Jimin, then another guy appears and they go to a table to make out and occasionally talk before paying and heading out tipsy and giggly. Jimin doesn't know what happens after they leave, doesn't want to assume, but still can't really help it.
And as long as he's not hurting anyone there's nothing wrong with what Taehyung chooses to do with his free time, of course not. Jimin might not be able to fully understand but he can be empathetic, can learn to recognize that there are as many ways of living as there are people. That's what he usually does, that's what he's been doing for the past year at this job – learning and trying to understand, even if he's still not quite there yet.
So yes, Taehyung's been here a lot. But this time is different from the routine they seem to have established. This time Taehyung is not the first to come, and of course Jimin can only recognize that fact when the boy does come and sits next to a rough-looking dude, who ordered a whiskey neat a good 20 minutes ago but still hasn't touched his glass, whose arm loops around Taehyung a little too easily for someone he's just met, whose mouth finds Taehyung's ear a little too quickly. Then there's shout-whispering in each other's ears over the loud music, and Jimin doesn't know what they're saying but Taehyung seems happy and maybe they've met before and maybe there's nothing to worry about.
"Jimin!" Taehyung greets him, not quite succeeding in getting the guy's arm off his waist. Sometime last month they've established being the same age, with Jimin only a few months older, so the formal addressing has been dropped for good. Jimin's still not sure how he feels about that.
"Your usual, Taehyung-ah?" he asks even though Taehyung's never ordered anything apart from a Pina Colada, but the question doesn't seem as pointless when the boy replies:
"No, I'm— I'll have a beer."
Which – shouldn't be so strange, since Taehyung is a person and sometimes people change their usual orders, Taehyung is entitled to order something different from a Pina Colada without having some bartender worrying about it. And besides, Jimin's too busy feeling like they're not close enough for him to intrude and making up excuses for Taehyung's decisions, for the other guy's behaviour, for the situation feeling somehow off.
So he just nods, opens the boy a bottle of beer, serving it with a fake-ass customary smile, and backs off – both mentally and physically by excusing himself and escaping to the backroom to get more ice. There's no response from Taehyung – no pickup lines, no eye contact, no nothing. But then again, flirting with the bartender in front of your date does seem a bit too much even for Taehyung.
When he returns, they are already seated at the small table to the far right, covered from Jimin's view by other customers. If he keeps looking straight ahead he might even pretend Taehyung's not here. Maybe that will stop his coworkers from bullying him about it.
Seokjin, his sunbae and also the bartender extraordinaire, has been teasing Jimin about his cute crush ever since two weeks ago when he broke a glass because of looking definitely not at the cocktail he was making. Seokjin, who was on a break at the time and saw the whole thing, should have probably scolded him, but instead he just snorted and went back to scrolling through something on his phone, leaving Jimin to wallow in his shame while cleaning up the broken glass.
And now every time Taehyung shows up, at least one of his coworkers will go 'look, Jimin, it's your favourite customer' or 'oh, it's Jimin's guy' in that sickeningly sweet tone that makes the boy want to smack whoever has made the remark.
(Which he can't because they are all older than him and there's also that teeny tiny fact that Namjoon, a manager here, has practically saved his ass from starving to death and introduced him to the best people he will ever know, and he loves them, really, even if he sometimes wants to kill them.)
So Jimin is pretty determined to prove to the others and also to himself that there's nothing going on between Taehyung and him. He isn't looking for a relationship, he doesn't do one-night stands. Jimin has a hard time trusting people as it is – even though he has been making progress – he doesn't need to have his heart broken by getting attached to someone who changes men more often than Jimin does his bedsheets.
Which, again, is totally fine. It just doesn't coincide with Jimin's idea of love life.
Trust issues that are limiting your life and ruining your chances at happiness, Namjoon calls it.
Self-preservation, calls it Jimin.
And, come to think of it, he doesn't even know if Taehyung's interested in him – after all, a couple pickup lines don't have to mean anything.
That's how he spends the next hour – avoiding Taehyung and convincing himself that whatever's happening is not happening, or even if it is, he will have to find a way to say no; all the while he keeps taking orders and competing with Seokjin over who can make a cocktail the fastest or do the coolest trick with a shaker because that's what total professionals do. That is until Seokjin suddenly stops, looking uneasy and pointing in the direction Jimin's been actively ignoring.
"You might want to do something," Seokjin says, and as Jimin follows his gaze, he can feel his insides twist with that sticky mix of fear and panic. It lasts for only a second, Jimin might have missed it if he were to blink in that moment, - thank god he didn't – but he's sure of what he's seen – the guy from before, Taehyung's guy, slipping something into the glass in his hand, while innocently standing up from the bar stool.
He doesn’t really think, has dealt with these situations enough times to be confident that he can do it on autopilot – the fact that is a on whole other level of sad, but which is also crucially helpful in this current moment, because Jimin doesn't want to know what would've happened if his movements were not instinctive.
He can hear loud beats of some remix echoing somewhere in his chest as he makes his way towards the man, who's already closer to the table where Taehyung sits than he is to the bar. Fast motherfucker.
"Excuse me, sir," Jimin says, approaching him and at the same time signaling for the bouncer to come, his hand firmly on the guy's shoulder.
"Is something wrong?"
He doesn't even need to say anything as Yoongi, probably the only person in the universe who while being short manages to somehow use his height to intimidate people, promptly assesses the situation and takes the man from Jimin's grip.
"Sir, I'm afraid you're going to have to leave," Yoongi tells him, handing the spiked drink to Jimin to deal with and escorting the guy away. The awfully cliché screams of 'what's happening' and 'you got it all wrong' are drawn out by the music, thick and protective from the things Jimin would rather not know about.
He takes a deep breath, hand automatically coming to his chest, feeling the full effects of the aftershock. But then for the first time in what feels like forever his eyes find Taehyung's, and Jimin just knows that he's seen the whole thing. As discreetly as they've handled it, it must have still been pretty harrowing to watch your own date being thrown out of the club for a failed attempt to drug you.
Still, it's over, the boy is safe, but instead of relief what Jimin registers is a massive pool of guilt in the pit of his stomach, all-consuming and merciless. He has been uncontrollably staring at Taehyung for more than a month but of all days he chose this one to pull himself together, not only ignoring the boy but also failing to recognize all the sighs that were so obviously there, the sighs he knows so well. If only he hadn't been too busy trying to protect his fragile feelings and un-training his eyes from looking for the boy who likes fruity cocktails, too busy acting professional, maybe he wouldn't have almost failed at his job.
It isn't until someone almost knocks him off his feet while trying to sway to the bar that Jimin falls out of his trance and practically sprints to Taehyung. It isn't until he comes closer that he finally sees Taehyung, fully registers the state he is in, his shirt with some of the buttons undone, revealing angry red marks on his neck that would surely bruise, the disheveled hair, how swollen and bitten his lips are, the scene making Jimin queasy and feeding his guilt even more. All of this could have been avoided, his conscience keeps whispering.
"Fuck. You okay?" he shouts over some Steve Aoki song blasting through the speakers a little too close to them. He crouching in front of the boy, whose gaze remains a little unfocused and is aimed at something in the distance. Jimin is hesitant to touch him, even though every bit of his being is desperately screaming for him to do exactly that, the sense of protectiveness and the need to fix filling him to the brim.
"Was it what I think it was?" Taehyung asks, his hands visibly shaking when he attempts to button up his shirt. The words are so quiet, or the music is too loud, but Jimin has to move closer and even then he isn't sure he's heard right.
"Yeah," he replies nonetheless, the fucking drink still in his hand, sighing in relief when Taehyung finally looks at him. "Come with me, okay?"
Jimin reaches his hand out for the boy to take if he wants to and thankfully Taehyung does, his grip a little stronger than necessary, but Jimin only squeezes back, concentrating on the task of getting them both to the bar while bumping into as little people as possible.
He makes sure Taehyung sits down on one of the bar stools and gets behind the counter, disposing of the contents of what looked like a perfectly fine White Russian until it was ruined, and pouring the boy a glass of water instead.
"Here," he says, putting it on the counter, his heart aching at just how shaky Taehyung's hands are when he lifts the glass and takes a few careful sips.
Just as he's about to say something else, Jimin catches Seokjin's staring with his peripheral vision, the man looking clearly concerned.
"I've got it. We're fine," Jimin says firmly before Seokjin has a chance to say anything. "Hyung, could you maybe, please…" He pleads, pointing with his eyes in the direction of the already forming queue of customers. Thankfully for Jimin, Jin is too nice for his own good, so even though he doesn't even work today, he swiftly nods.
He knows he's got a job to do and Taehyung is not his only customer, even if can't think about anyone else at the moment, and still. He can give the boy his full attention, if only for a few minutes.
"S-sorry, that was stupid," Taehyung suddenly speaks up, his voice a little hoarse.
"What? Taehyung–"
"I thought I was smarter than that. I thought I knew how to distinguish between good guys and bad guys," Taehyung keeps going. "He wanted to roleplay tonight, for me to act a bit more submissive or whatever, which in itself is, you know, a fun idea. So I agreed. We texted for a few days, and I could feel that something wasn't right, that he was pushing me. But god, he was just so charismatic. Kept giving me compliments. Made me forget what 'no' means."
Jimin wants to interject, but there are no words on his mind, only angry sounds, and he doesn't exactly wish to direct those at the boy sitting in front of him. So he quietly listens, keeping his hands busy by wiping the counter maybe an unnecessary amount of times.
"When I finally caught on just how uncomfortable I actually was, I was way past the point of tipsy and he just kept pushing, and my attempts to make whatever was happening stop apparently gave him an idea to… persuade me." Taehyung finishes, his voice shaking and growing quieter and quieter with every word, becoming almost inaudible on the last syllables.
There are many things Jimin is feeling at the moment, the anger and the guilt practically trying to swallow him whole, but seeing Taehyung like this – broken and vulnerable, gaze on the floor, hands viciously wiping at his eyes and nose, Jimin belatedly realizes that maybe it shouldn't be about his own feelings. So he pushes all of it somewhere deep and dark, where there's no way of reaching Jimin's current appearance – he can deal with it later.
"I'm sorry this had to happen, but none of it is your fault, okay? It shouldn't be your job to decipher whether or not someone is a good person," Jimin says. He's learned that the hard way and there are still days when he can't quite find the strength to fully believe it. "I know it's silly to be asking if you're okay but are you okay?"
"Well, I think I might still be a bit in shock, but if you mean physically, then yeah, I'm fine," Taehyung replies, nervously fumbling with the empty glass. "Thanks for saving my ass by the way. Probably literally."
Jimin chokes on his own saliva.
"Too soon?" Taehyung asks, taking his eyes off the floor and smiling just a little, a bit of his usual personality breaking through the bleakness of the situation.
"No— I mean, it's your ass to joke about, I guess. Just didn't expect it, is all," Jimin says, a tiny smile creeping into his face as well. "So, do you want me to get you a taxi? Or call someone?"
"Umm, can I stay here for a bit? I know I'm keeping you from your job and when you woke up this morning, you probably didn't expect to have to deal with someone literally dripping snot on your bar counter, but— Can I stay?" He says, sounding just so incredibly small, so painfully breakable. Whatever game they have been playing for the past month, whatever appearances they've been keeping up – this is the breaking point, Jimin realizes. And if Jimin can still pretend, can monitor what he shows and what he doesn't, Taehyung, voluntarily or not, seems to have his mask taken off of him.
It's not fair, Jimin thinks, knowing full well he might not be able to do the same with his own.
"Of course you can stay. It's not a problem," he assures the boy, even though it might be a problem, but it's not Taehyung's fault Jimin gets so distracted around him. (It kind of is.) "Now. I doubt more alcohol is a good idea, so do you maybe want some tea?"
"Do you even have tea here?" Taehyung asks suspiciously, his eyebrow quirking.
"Well, the fact that it's not on the menu does not mean I can't make it."
When he returns from the back with tea hastily poured into a beer glass – because even if they do have cups here somewhere, Jimin didn't want to spend extra time looking for them, so a beer glass it is – Taehyung seems to be actively making friends with Seokjin. Approaching the bar counter, Jimin catches the last part of one of the latter's dad jokes. And that's nothing to be surprised about, Seokjin tells those jokes to everyone willing to listen and not, the surprising part is Taehyung actually laughing. Jimin's never seen anyone laugh at those god-awful jokes. He feels his heart flutter just a little.
"Do you really find this funny?" Jimin asks, his expression full of exaggerated incredulity.
"Yah! What's that supposed to mean? Of course, he finds this funny, because he has a sense of humour, unlike some!" Seokjin points out, sounding so offended Jimin feels like he's insulted the guy's mother or something.
"Oh wow," he replies, clutching his chest as though in pain.
"You guys are great," Taehyung says shyly, a smile still on his face, when he gratefully takes the glass from Jimin. "Chamomile? Seriously?"
"Yep."
Then, a little later, after he's made sure that Taehyung is not going to break down and notices how absolutely swamped Seokjin looks, Jimin does have to go back to doing his job, taking orders and cursing at the stupid credit card terminal like it's just any regular day while also keeping a conversation with Taehyung when he can.
They don't talk about anything serious, just each other's tastes in music and hobbies and whether they prefer cats or dogs. Jimin finds out that Taehyung likes slow songs, that he is a photographer but also loves to draw when he has the time and that he's 100% a dog person, not because he doesn't like cats, but because they, for some reason, seem to dislike him. In turn, Jimin says that he doesn't really listen to music on his own, gets enough of it here and prefers blissful silence over it; talks about how he used to dance and how cats are absolutely superior to dogs.
Jimin doesn't even realize it's been hours and his shift is almost over until he looks up from whatever's left of the mixers and notices Taehyung practically sleeping with his head cushioned by his hands on the counter.
"Not asleep," the boy murmurs when Jimin goes to lightly touch his shoulder, but doesn't really protest while Jimin calls him a cab and makes him drink some more water.
It's only a few minutes later when he gets notified of a taxi being already parked outside.
"Can I have your phone?" Jimin asks before the violent protests in his brain have time to change his mind. Taehyung, who is a bit more awake now, seems like he wants to say something but decided against it, silently taking his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it and handing it to the bartender.
Jimin makes quick work of entering his own number into the boy's phone. And even if his hands shake just a little out of nervousness, Taehyung is either too tired to notice or too nice to comment on the fact.
I just want to know for sure that he gets home safe, Jimin reassures himself, but even in total denial, he can recognize that this is not the way you usually treat your customers, regular or not.
"Text me when you get home?" he half-asks, giving Taehyung his phone back. The club is almost empty at this point, just a couple of especially persistent customers, or the ones too drunk to be able to leave just yet. A while ago Jimin assured the other bartender that he can close on his own, and Seokjin didn't need to be told twice.
And without the barrier of coworkers and the constant flow of customers their interaction seems almost intimate, feels like something illusory, like that feeling you get when it's summer and you're outside and it's raining and you can hear a storm coming and everyone else is rushing to hide but you choose to stay unsheltered, even though you never really do these things, the peculiarity of the situation filling you with excitement; as though you've fallen through time and space, or maybe as though you're in some parallel universe and something that's not supposed to happen is happening, as though the moment is out of place, or maybe you are. Either way, it doesn't have to be a bad kind of feeling, Jimin thinks. Far from it, in fact.
"Sure," Taehyung replies.
☁️
The first time Jimin comes to Blue, the place seems awfully hostile and claustrophobically small – like the walls are closing up on him and everyone is out to get him but there's nowhere to run. The music is too loud, the number of drunk strangers even at this early hour is overwhelming, the smell of alcohol and chips and sweat – nauseating. He's uncomfortable and scared and trusts nothing and no one, although that probably has nothing to do with the nightclub and everything with him getting out of a two-year relationship barely a month ago, coming out of the other side physically alive but so mentally fucked that he might as well be dead. At least, that's how it feels. He has nowhere to live, no money, and as of next week no opportunity to attend university, as the person who Jimin moved to a whole other country for and who was paying for his education, has been, as it turns out, cheating on Jimin for at least a third of their relationship and, after having some kind of epiphany and voluntarily telling all of that to Jimin, has moved to Japan, withdrawing any kind of payments and putting out their – well, technically his, or this wouldn't be happening – apartment for rent.
Which is what leads Jimin to Namjoon's workplace, or rather what leads Namjoon, who has been nothing but patient and understanding but, as he himself explains, has grown tired of just watching his friend suffer, to practically drag Jimin here because 'Jimin-ah, you need a job and I need a new bartender, isn't that perfect?'
(They meet during his first month in the States, Namjoon somehow managing to break a chair in the public library and Jimin offering to help fix it, not having the heart to just watch the boy helplessly hover over it while other people stare. Namjoon thanks him profusely, smiling a little awkwardly and offering his phone number with a promise of returning the favour.)
The thing is, Namjoon could have found someone else. Blue is not exactly an unknown place. Many people who actually know what they're doing would kill to work here, but here is Jimin, who has no professional experience in bartending and seems to have forgotten what basic social skills are, being offered the job which requires both and beyond by the manager of the club. Life is funny that way.
Jimin doesn't deserve his friend.
"Come on, it's not that bad. Everyone is nice and the money is good. Besides, I know that you're no stranger to making drinks." Namjoon says, winking at him (or attempting to, anyway), referring to Jimin's crazy freshman year when he made a cocktail for someone at a party once and somehow ended up as the person mixing everyone drinks at every party he went to from then on for the rest of the year. "Just give it a try and if you don't like it after all, you can always quit, okay?" Namjoon finishes softly, looking at the boy expectantly.
Jimin knows that this is so much more than he could have hoped for, more than he can give back. And he wants to be grateful, he is grateful, but he is also so damn angry at himself and his ex and the universe, so tired of feeling like that, so full of ugly distrust and devoid of hope, that he finds himself unable to think of the right words, all the good ones instantly dying in the toxicity of his mind. So Jimin just nods and lets Namjoon lead him to the bar counter to, presumably, introduce him to the other staff.
Just as Namjoon has promised, they are nice, unbelievably so. If Jimin didn't know them to be not only Namjoon's employees but also his friends, he would have been suspicious, because no one is that nice with a near-stranger without any reason. He's still a little wary though when a very tall guy with wide shoulders and a warm smile who's way too handsome to be working at a night club – Seokjin, Jimin remembers – immediately grimaces at the formal greeting and asks to call him hyung, promising to tell Jimin all the ways to sneak out free booze and get extra tips.
Hoseok, who is only a year older than Jimin and is the DJ at the place and also Jimin's new roommate, also immediately assures Jimin that Hobi-hyung will be just fine. He teaches Jimin some basic things about the club, giggling while he fills the boy in on the latest gossip.
Jimin decides to give it a try.