Chapter Text
Seokjin was so going to murder Jimin.
“Park Jimin, I swear to god–” Seokjin whispered violently as he leaned over the table, ignoring the curious glances in his direction. “I swear on my stupid selkie soul that I will eviscerate you, you literally just walked into the cafe–”
“An accident ,” Jimin whined pitifully. “It was an accident, I’m so sorry, I promise I didn’t mean to bump into your coat on your chair. I just really wanted to surprise you for being early!”
Seokjin huffed, slumping back into his chair. “An accident,” Seokjin echoed back to Jimin, staring at the soft, gray overcoat crumpled on the cafe floor.
Jimin wilted under Seokjin’s exhausted gaze. “I’m sorry, hyung.”
Seokjin knew Jimin was clumsy. Seokjin had known Jimin was sweet and lovable the moment Jimin walked into their shared dorm room with an overenthusiastic “hello, roommate–” before flamboyantly tripping on air onto the floor. Even then, Seokjin had stepped away unconsciously, making sure his overcoat stayed far, far away from the carpeted floor.
Ever since then, Seokjin always made sure his coat wasn’t hanging from chairs, but folded neatly in the middle of tables or tucked neatly into his bag. “It’s nothing against you, Jimin-ah,” Seokjin had crooned once during one of their spontaneous cuddle sessions. “A selkie’s coat is kind of like an engagement ring, except it binds two people together forever.”
“That’s kind of gross, hyung.”
Seokjin had flushed violently, slapping Jimin’s stomach lightly. “Mating,” Seokjin had stated, his cheeks aflame, “means someone picks your coat up for me on land. And I can’t ask anyone to pick my coat up. And God forbid,” Seokjin laughed quietly. “God forbid anyone hands the coat to me.”
Jimin’s face had paled so quickly as he scrambled away from the hug to face Seokjin. “Of course, hyung,” Jimin had said, his face dead serious. “Everyone knows you can’t give a selkie’s coat back to them."
As Jimin rambled on and on about paying for “that selkie service that uses those cool gloves, I saw it on TV, they can place the selkie coat on the table with these vegan leather gloves, and somehow it like cancels out the selkie pheromones or whatever!” Seokjin wondered why, of all coats, he had to get the longest, bulkiest coat he’d seen for any selkie.
Sure, he knew it meant he was a little more attractive than the every day selkie. But all selkies were hot. No matter how he looked at it, Seokjin could only come to the conclusion that his coat was too obnoxiously big, even for his own tall self.
Seokjin sighed loudly, reaching across the table to grab Jimin’s hand. “Jimin, it’s honestly fine.” He smiled, and like clockwork Jimin’s face stretched into a mirroring, if nervous, grin. “We’re probably not that far away from the service center, anyways, it’s not a big problem.”
Jimin visibly relaxed, the tension in his shoulders dissipating as he slouched back into his chair. “I’m sorry, hyung,” he said quietly.
“Don’t be. Don’t you want to order something?”
“I just want an Americano. What about you, hyung?”
“I’ll just have the same.” Seokjin stood up.
Jimin hastily stood up. “No, no, I’ll pay for the drinks this time!” Before Seokjin could protest any further, Jimin steamrolled ahead. “It’s my way of properly apologizing! Besides, you have to call the service center. I don’t have their number.”
Seokjin laughed, sitting back down carefully. “You don’t have to give me reasons for me to accept a free drink, Jimin.”
As Jimin walked away, Seokjin took out his phone and dialed the service. As his phone rang, Seokjin picked at a loose thread on his jeans.
“Hello, we’re here to pick you up!” A cheery voice filtered through his phone. “Selkie Services, how can we help you?”
Seokjin sighed audibly. “Hey, could I request a coat pickup service?” As Seokjin’s eyes roved about the cafe, he saw Jimin. A Jimin who, apparently, was prone to blushing whenever he talked to cute baristas. “It’s a little urgent.”
The other man on the phone hummed sympathetically. “Of course! Could you please tell us your location?” As Seokjin rattled off the cafe’s address, the cheery voice hummed quietly. “Luckily for you, one of our workers is… eight minutes away.”
Seokjin sat up quickly. “Eight minutes away? That’s a lot faster than I expected!’
“We pride ourselves on our outreach! However, we have to tell you that the worker is male. Would you be alright with that?”
Seokjin deflated immediately. “It would personally interfere with the coat service, right? If by coincidence I’m attracted to the worker.”
A resounding silence.
Rubbing his fingers on his forehead, Seokjin slumped lower in his chair even as he saw Jimin retrieve their drinks. “I’m sorry, do you have a female worker close by, or –”
A tentative pat on Seokjin’s shoulder. Seokjin covered his phone and turned around, coming face to face with a tall man. “Can I help you?” Seokjin tried to keep the edge of annoyance out of his voice, but judging by how the stranger’s face flushed red, he hadn’t been completely successful.
“I– I just wanted to say that you’ve dropped –”
“ Sir, could you please repeat what you just said? ” A tinny voice leaked from Seokjin’s phone, but Seokjin couldn’t reply because this tall stranger suddenly stooped down in front of him and –
“The service was that fast?” Jimin asked brightly as he came back with both drinks.
Seokjin would have retorted sharply that, no, there’s no way someone that was eight minutes away would be able to find the store and pick up his selkie coat within the time it took for Jimin to order and pick up two simple Americanos.
Seokjin would have done something other than stare at this complete stranger, who apparently thought it was okay for him to have Seokjin’s entire coat in his arms.
“You dropped this coat, and it looked pretty expensive, so…” The stranger blushed slightly under Seokjin’s intense scrutiny.
And then, before Seokjin could even blink, or breathe, or laugh hysterically at this complete stranger who was essentially, in selkie customs, proposing to Seokjin, the stranger gingerly handed him the coat.
Jimin’s eyes widened when he saw the stranger’s large, definitely ungloved hands.
Seokjin could already feel a shift within his body, a warmth that seemed to seep from the coat and paint his cheeks. Mate , his body declared petulantly to Seokjin. This complete stranger that you’ve never seen is now my mate, and there’s nothing you can do about it.
“Um… yeah. I’ll just…” The stranger trailed off in embarrassment, jerked his thumb back towards the door, wheeled around abruptly, and thundered out of the cafe, his head hanging low.
A beat of silence.
“ Sir? ”
Numbly, Seokjin brought the phone back up to his ear. “I’m sorry, could you please cancel the service?”
“ What? ” The man across the phone sounded flustered. Seemingly catching himself, he coughed a few times. “ Uh – Sorry, is there a different service you would like? ”
“No. You see…”
Despite everything, Seokjin’s frame started shaking with… laughter? anger? hysteria? He could barely keep his voice steady.
“You see, someone just handed me my coat.”
Jimin dropped the coffee.
———
Namjoon knew what should count as midnight anxiety fuel, and what didn’t.
The time he slapped a guy’s ass at orientation on his first day of college, thinking it was his high school friend, when he was most definitely not his friend: that was midnight anxiety fuel.
The time he went up to a homeless man and given him some money? Definitely not midnight anxiety fuel.
Namjoon prided himself on doing kind things, for no reason other than he wanted to be kind. He wasn’t some sort of city vigilante or rich philanthrope. Sometimes he just saw a chance to help someone out, and then he took it. He liked being unable to remember what exactly he’d done; it helped remind Namjoon that what he was doing wasn’t some big feat.
“So why is it,” Namjoon whined to Yoongi over the phone, “why is it that I can’t get over the fact that I just helped someone out today?”
“I don’t know, maybe your savior complex finally got to you or something.” Namjoon could almost hear Yoongi’s deadpan expression. “Namjoon, I called you at… 8pm? because I wanted to freak out to you about someone cute for five minutes. You said you just wanted to talk about something for thirty seconds, and here we are, at 3am on a workday, because you got a little embarrassed while you picked someone’s coat up.”
“But he looked so –”
“Hot? Insanely attractive?”
“N-no!” Namjoon sputtered. “I mean… uh…”
Yoongi sighed. “Namjoon, just talk to me tomorrow at the coffee shop. My shift ends a bit early. Sort your gay ass out before then.” The phone beeped loudly.
Namjoon stared at his phone. “My ass is not gay.”
Namjoon’s thoughts drifted to the beautiful man, his icy gaze and cold composure that melted into a prominent, high blush.
The man’s lips.
“You know what, Yoongi?”
Yoongi startled immensely, staring at Namjoon. A Namjoon who, apparently, lived in the cafe’s storage room or something, because why was he just there? “Jesus Christ, Namjoon, not even I have a key for the back of the storage, how and when did you get here–”
“You’re right.”
“Of course I’m right, that’s not the point–”
“My ass is so gay.”
If Yoongi could win a competition that wasn’t for sleep, Namjoon thought, his teeth chattering in the cold, cold storage room, it would be the competition for most simultaneous sighs and nose pinches per day.
“Yoongi, what are you doing back there?”
“Sorry Hobi, I’ll be right out!” Yoongi hollered, dragging Namjoon back out of the storage room and into the kitchen.
“Good, because there’s this customer that’s asking for you. Park Jimin?”
Yoongi froze in his tracks, his fingers loosening around Namjoon’s wrist. “Oh.”
A smiley-faced barista walked into the kitchen and stopped in his tracks. “Namjoon…?”
“I’ll be right outside!” Namjoon slipped away from Yoongi, who looked a little bit like he was shitting his pants for some strange reason, and walked out into the cafe.
He glanced at the man leaning over the counter. He looked vaguely familiar, and Namjoon wondered where he’d seen the man before. “So this is Park Jimin, huh?” Namjoon murmured to himself.
And then the boy glanced back at Namjoon.
Their eyes locked for a few awkward moments.
Jimin’s face split into a shit-eating grin. He opened his mouth, and in the loudest voice possible, he yelled, “Seokjin hyung! Guess who showed up today!”
As everyone in the cafe turned around to stare at the pair, Namjoon briefly wondered if he could die from blushing too hard.
It might be possible , he wondered as, out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone stand up and stride over to the pair. If all the blood vessels in my face explode, I will definitely die from internal bleeding.
He took a deep breath, and looked up, preparing to stutter out an apology and crack a diplomatic smile, in no particular order.
“Oh.”
The beautiful man was back. Unlike the day before, with his frigid demeanor, the beautiful man – Seokjin , Namjoon’s mind unhelpfully supplied – had blazing eyes, rosy red cheeks.
And unlike the day before, Seokjin didn’t have a phone in his hand.
He had a few documents clenched in his hand.
Without a single word, Seokjin shoved a piece of paper into Namjoon’s chest, his face burning bright red as he looked away from Namjoon. Immediately, Namjoon reached up for the paper. As he grasped the paper, his fingers brushed lightly against Seokjin’s, and both of them jumped back a little in surprise. At the side, Jimin snickered loudly.
The cafe was silent.
Then Seokjin began to speak.
“If you’re going to marry me,” Seokjin enunciated clearly, each syllable like waves crashing onto shore, “We should do it the human way first.”
Namjoon blinked. He looked back down at the document in his hand. The document that, in clearly bolded letters, had the words “Certificate of Marriage” on it.
He blanked out.
“Fuck.”