Work Text:
The inventory at Hope World Bookseller’s is as eclectic as it is cherished. It is this fact that turns the customers into regulars and the regulars, eventually, into friends. Creating an environment for the shop that is cozy and welcoming, yet distinct, was one of Hobi’s main goals when they decided to take the plunge and turn their late grandmother’s dream into a reality. They wanted to make Hope World memorable so that it may leave its mark.
“Here you are, Mr. Choi,” Hobi slides the old man’s bundle of historical fiction paperbacks across the counter to him. “I’ll give you a call when we get the next issue of that aircraft magazine in.”
Mr. Choi thanks them kindly, tucking his parcel under his arm and hobbling back towards the entrance. Hobi smiles as they watch him go, politely waiting until the front door has closed behind him to check their watch. Fifteen minutes until closing time.
“Jimin,” Hobi calls out.
Their coworker stops sweeping the floor to glance over his shoulder. “Yeah?”
“Why don’t you head out? I can close up tonight.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course. You’ve worked hard today.”
“So have you,” Jimin responds easily. “But I have dinner plans with Tae tonight, so I think I will take off. Thanks.”
Hobi grins and pats the top of Jimin’s head when he crosses behind the check-out counter to retrieve his jacket and tote bag. “You two have fun.”
Jimin sticks out his tongue playfully in response, but before he leaves, he rests his head on Hobi’s shoulder in a show of genuine affection.
“Night, Hobi.”
“Have a good one, Jimin-ah.”
Once Jimin is out the door, Hobi spins around slowly, scanning the store. It seems that Mr. Choi was their last customer for the evening, so it won’t hurt to close up shop a few minutes early. They make their way to the front door, turning the deadbolt and flipping the sign in the window over to read ‘closed’.
Picking up the broom from where Jimin had propped it against a wall, Hobi resumes sweeping where their coworker left off. They use this as a chance to get lost in their own head, humming lightly and making up dance steps as they go.
A loud thump from within the bookcases sends them jumping a good three centimeters off the floor. Though they’re loath to admit it, Hobi is something of a scaredy-cat. Mysterious noises coming from what is supposed to be an empty bookstore are enough to have their heartbeat ticking up an almost frantic amount.
Clutching the broom handle like a makeshift weapon, they make their way deeper into the shop between the towering shelves. Hobi rounds the corner as silently as possible and catches sight of a figure juggling a small stack of books while attempting to stoop down and pick up the hardcover that’s on the floor by his feet. Despite only catching a slight glance at the cover, Hobi is able to recognize the book as a biography of the painter Chang Ucchin. No wonder they had been able to hear it drop; it’s one of those thick art history books with glossy pages of picture after picture between tiny text.
“Are you robbing us?” Hobi blurts, which is admittedly absurd for a couple of reasons. The first being, that the man is currently sliding the book back into its place on the shelf quite gently. Another, Hobi realizes when the man turns towards them, is that they’ve seen him in the shop before. On a couple of different occasions, they’ve noticed Jimin or Jungkook ringing him up at the check-out counter, which makes him a regular, paying customer and not a thief at all.
The man blinks at him, hand still suspended in midair after depositing the book. “Huh?”
“The store is closed,” Hobi states neutrally, trying their best to save face after their previous outburst. “Our business hours are from eight to seven.”
“Oh—I’m so sorry! I must have lost track of time,” the guy moves his arm that is supporting the weight of the books he’s carrying awkwardly like he’d forgotten he was holding them and was going to check his watch before catching himself.
“To be fair, I did lock up a few minutes early. You were being so quiet, I had no idea anyone was still here until that book hit the floor.”
“Ah, I’ve been told my focus can get rather…intense at times,” the man smiles bashfully at his feet, and a pair of disarming dimples appear at the action. Hobi’s heart is back to beating an irregular rhythm. “I was going through the books I picked up and trying to decide which ones I would take home today. As much as I’d love all of them, my budget is a bit tight at the moment.”
Hobi hums in understanding. “Well, the register is already closed out, but I can hold them for you if you’d like? You can think on it some more and come back another day.”
“Really? That would be great!”
“Sure, follow me.”
They lead the man back to the counter and pull out a pen and a pad of sticky notes shaped like cartoon bears. “I’ll put your name on them in case someone else is up here when you come back.”
“Kim Namjoon,” the patron supplies, and Hobi writes it out neatly before drawing a cute smiley face next to the characters. They stick it to the front of Normal People by Sally Rooney at the top of Namjoon’s stack of potential purchases.
“There you go. You can come back anytime and just let whoever’s at the desk know that books are being held for you. It’s mostly me, Jimin, or Jungkook that work the register.”
“Thanks,” the man—Namjoon says. He hesitates a moment, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “When will you be working again? If you don’t mind me asking.”
Hobi’s eyes widen a fraction. They weren’t expecting that. Is Namjoon attempting to flirt? The thought both excites and terrifies them in equal measure.
“I’m almost always around. Even if I’m not technically working a shift, I have a tendency to haunt the place. I’m the owner and operator, so the shop is kind of my life.”
Namjoon leans forward excitedly. “This is your store? It’s, like, one of my favorite places in the entire city! I wish I could have found it sooner. The vibe is so great, I love coming in any time I get a chance.”
Hobi smiles easily, Namjoon’s enthusiasm feeling contagious. They flush with pride at the compliment. Hope World truly is their everything.
“Thank you so much. I’m always thrilled to hear stuff like that.”
Namjoon is grinning, his forearms braced against the surface of the counter. The quiet of the empty shop envelops the two of them. Hobi’s not really sure where the conversation is supposed to go from here, but they’re also not ready for it to end. The thought surprises them. Reflexively, they glance down at the watch on their wrist.
“Oh—wow, I’m sorry. You’re probably trying to close and get out of here, and I’m keeping you with my rambling. I’ll get out of your hair.”
“No! I mean, it’s really no bother. Talking with you has been…nice,” they reply, the adjective falling flat between them. Hobi bows their head slightly. “Thank you for your business, Namjoon-ssi.”
“Yeah, it has been nice. I’ll think about the books some more. And hopefully, I’ll see you again soon..?”
“Hobi,” they tap the nametag on their chest.
“Hobi,” Namjoon repeats simply. No quizzical look, no trying the syllables on for size. “Let’s cross paths again.”
Hobi just nods, not trusting their voice with the way their heart is pitter-pattering in their chest.
Namjoon raises one hand in a wave and turns on his heel to leave. He’s almost made it all the way to the door when Hobi pipes up.
“Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982,” they call at Namjoon’s back.
He looks over his shoulder. “What?”
“The book. By Cho Namjoo. You should consider adding it to your list. It’s a great read.”
A smile blooms across Namjoon’s face. “I’ve already read it. And you’re right, it’s fantastic.”
If it were ever possible for flowers to sprout directly from Hobi’s chest, it would happen now. They tamp down the delight that’s threatening to take over their expression at any moment.
Namjoon steps through the door but pokes his head back in at the last second. “Goodnight,” he says softly.
“Night.”
The moment the door latches closed, Hobi whirls around, leaning their back against the counter and placing a hand over their heart, willing it to calm down. Namjoon is just a guy. A really cute guy who is apparently interested in art and reads semi-controversial feminist literature and praised the culmination of Hobi’s life’s work, sure. He’s got a welcoming presence and didn’t judge the abrupt accusation of robbery; for some reason, he seemed interested in the prospect of seeing Hobi again. But that’s no reason for them to be feeling so giddy. Namjoon is just a guy.
And yet, Hobi can’t stop themself from grinning down at the sticky note with Namjoon’s name on it.
~
Hobi’s ring of keys jingles cheerily as they unlock the front doors of Hope World the following Thursday morning. The weather is a little warm, but the sweet smell of spring blossoms beginning to open makes up for it completely. They hum a tune as they step inside the bookstore.
Dust particles float along in the dim morning light that permeates the shop. Hobi makes a mental note to increase dusting on the task rotation from twice a week to three times. Although, there is something sort of charming about the old feel of the bookstore. A floorboard creaks underneath one of their feet as if in agreement, and Hobi smiles.
Opening shifts are Hobi’s favorite. There’s so much to be done in preparation for a day of business that they always feel productive. By the time the first customers trickle in, several items will already be successfully checked off their to-do list. Satisfying.
Rounding the desk with the vintage cash register, they don an apron that is cute but not entirely necessary. It’s not exactly a dirty job—running a book shop. Still, having something of a uniform helps Hobi to get into the headspace that has kept their business afloat thus far. The small, embroidered flower stitched in a rainbow of thread stands out nicely against the red of the apron. It rests just over their heart and above Hobi’s nametag.
“Morning Gram,” Hobi greets, blowing a kiss to the framed picture of themself and their grandmother that sits on the desk. It’s a snapshot of the two of them at Hobi’s high school graduation, arms wrapped around each other with nearly identical heart-shaped grins lighting up the room. The bookstore had been their halmeoni’s biggest wish. Even though she hadn’t lived to see it become a reality, Hobi likes to believe that they honor her memory with Hope World and make her proud.
Hobi’s grandmother had been a literature lover and a book collector. Her personal shelves were always a jumbled miss-match of gilded, leather-bound volumes and tattered mass-market paperbacks. She took great pride in her misfit assortment, and Hobi always loved it just as much. Thus, it became the principle of Hope World as well. Any book in any condition could find itself wedged in these shelves.
First on Hobi’s task list this morning is shelving any books delivered or returned to the stop. It’s one part of their job that they enjoy immensely, wandering between the huge, crammed bookshelves and getting lost in the stacks. Sure, everything is organized but done to Hobi’s liking, which leaves the store’s navigation a bit quirky. Meandering through the shop brings back the thrill they would feel entering a maze as a child.
The pile they wheel around the shop now comprises of graphic novels, illustrated gardening guides, an astrophysicist’s autobiography, contemporary romance novels, and a collection of children’s bedtime stories. It feels a bit like hide-and-seek locating the proper destinations for each one, but they enjoy the alone time, dancing around on the balls of their feet and making sound effects for the little adventure.
Before they realize it, an hour has passed, and the alarm on their phone nearly scares them out of their skin. Hobi scurries back to the front of the shop, flipping the sign on the front door over. Hope World is open for business.
Checking the time again, they note that it won’t be too long before Jungkook comes in for his morning shift. Hobi makes sure the large, silver bell is visible on the desk in case a customer comes in and needs assistance.
They make their way to a provisional break area in one of the back storerooms and plug in an electric kettle to make tea. The water takes its time heating up, and with nothing else to occupy their attention, Hobi finds their thoughts wandering back to Namjoon.
As promised, Namjoon had returned to Hope World a couple of days after their first encounter. Hobi had been busy arranging a new endcap display, but they’d be lying if they said that their eyes hadn’t been flitting to the door every time they heard the bell above it jingle. It must have been the eighty-third time that week they’d peeked over their shoulder, but this time they were finally rewarded with what they’d been waiting for. Namjoon ducked into the shop, careful to knock any dirt off his tan boots before stepping over the threshold. He looked cozy, with a denim jacket thrown over his grey hoody. Hobi noticed the warm lighting of the shop glint off of a silver whistle that hung around his neck.
When Namjoon’s gaze met Hobi’s, he smiled, wide and jovial, and he made his way straight for them instead of approaching the counter to retrieve the books being held for him. He struck up easy conversation, thanking Hobi again for their help the last time he’d been in. Namjoon had done a bit of research on the books from his stack that he could recall and had narrowed his options down to three titles. Bashfully, he admitted that he should really only be buying one. With Hobi’s help, they were able to find gently used copies of two of the novels, and Namjoon was very pleased to be going home with The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and Almond for less than he would have paid for one new release.
The interaction couldn’t have lasted much more than an hour, but it had managed to brighten Hobi’s entire day. On his way out, Namjoon said that he would be back after he got paid next, but he hadn’t made any indication of when that would be. Now, Hobi finds themself worryingly occupied with counting down the days since they saw the man last.
Finally, the kettle begins whistling, breaking Hobi free of their dazed reminiscing. They drop a teabag into a bright yellow ceramic mug with the word “bibliophile” scrawled across it and pour in the boiling water. Hobi is still blowing steam from the cup when they emerge back into the shop and see Jungkook taking up position behind the register. Hearing Hobi approaching, Jungkook turns around and greets them.
“Hey!”
“Morning, Jungkookie.”
“Who is Kim Namjoon?”
Hobi startles, eyes widening as they stop in their tracks. Is this kid a mind reader or something?
Jungkook waves a sticky note around, “I found this on the counter.”
“Oh,” Hobi huffs a short laugh. No telepathy, then.
They could have thrown the note away once Namjoon had made his purchases, but for some reason, they opted to stick it next to the register.
“A customer I was holding some books for. He came and picked them up already.”
Jungkook hums in understanding, fixing Hobi with a doe-eyed stare. “Is that the tender beefcake you were wandering around the shop with the other day?”
“The— what?” Hobi chokes on their first sip of tea for the day.
“Jimin’s words, not mine. Hyung said you were giving a lot of attention to some guy that looked over 180cm, built, but sweet. He also told me you seemed enamored.”
“Jimin needs to learn to mind his business. It’s really unprofessional, you know, gossiping about patrons like that.”
“Sure,” the response is drawn out and doesn’t sound at all sincere. “So, what’s the deal? You aren’t looking for someone to take my job, right? I may not look that muscley, but I’m probably a lot stronger than he is. I’ve been boxing!”
Hobi places a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “Believe me, Jungkookie, you are totally irreplaceable. Namjoon is just a returning customer who has been very kind. I was reciprocating the kindness, that’s all.”
“Oh…alright,” despite the reassurance, Jungkook still seems a bit suspicious.
Taking a seat on one of the barstools behind the counter, Hobi sets down their mug and opens a copy of Please Look After Mom to where they last stuck their bookmark. They do their best to look lost in their reading, but their eyes keep sliding off of the page, going back to the same sentences over and over. It’s no use; their thoughts are now sufficiently occupied with Kim Namjoon. They heave a sigh.
Enamored. That’s the word Jimin had supposedly used to describe how Hobi appeared in the man’s presence. They wipe their sweaty palms off on their apron. It’s annoying to think that Jimin may have been even slightly accurate.
~
As it turns out, Hobi only has to wait three more days before they see Namjoon again.
When he comes into the shop, Hobi is busy helping a mother and daughter make sure they have everything on a required reading list for school. Still, Namjoon waves—somewhat goofily—at them and grins before disappearing into the labyrinth of bookshelves.
It’s amazing how Hobi can feel something settle within them at the same time that their nerves kick into red alert. Like Namjoon’s presence, both soothes them and simultaneously causes a fight or flight response. Miraculous.
When they think about it a little more, it’s not that hard to rationalize. Namjoon being at the shop eliminates the stress of when or if Hobi will see him next. But it also introduces the new worry of not making a fool of themself or otherwise doing something to irrevocably mess things up. Hobi is beginning to find Kim Namjoon’s existence to be a bit of a whirlwind.
They wrap up business with the duo, wishing the young girl luck with her classes. The mother thanks Hobi for their assistance, and then the two are out the door on to their next errand.
Hobi weighs their options, shifting back and forth on their feet as if physically displaying their indecision will help be rid of it. Part of them wants to go search the store for Namjoon. To see what he’s up to and spark another conversation. However, they’re also worried about being overbearing. No one likes to have people hovering over their shoulder while they’re shopping.
They’ll wait, they decide, rounding the check-out counter and clicking around aimlessly on the desktop computer that resides there.
Hobi does such a wonderful job of keeping themself busy and pretending that they’re not waiting for a certain handsome beanpole to approach the desk that they actually lose track of time. It isn’t until over two hours later that they startle and realize they haven’t seen Namjoon since he entered the shop. Hovering be damned, they decide to wander through the shelves and investigate.
It has been a relatively slow afternoon. The only sounds filling the space are a Studio Ghibli lofi playlist Jimin put on a low volume near the desk while he catalogs and the occasional chatter and laughter of a small group of friends browsing around. Realistically, Hobi should know from their first meeting that Namjoon doesn’t tend to make much noise while he’s shopping anyway. But with no audio cues to guide them, Hobi is left with few choices but to wander aimlessly and hope their paths cross.
When they round the corner of the literary fiction section, they’re met with the sight of Namjoon sitting with his back against one wall, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He’s got his nose buried in a copy of The Midnight Library and is so immersed in the story that he doesn’t notice when Hobi takes a seat across from him, cross-legged. They use this as another chance to observe Namjoon while he’s concentrating. There’s a small furrow between his brows, and Hobi notices that his jaw is jutting out slightly. It’s cute, but Hobi feels a bit creepy staring like this. After a moment, Namjoon must register the feeling of someone watching him because his eyes flit up from the pages, and he blinks in surprise at Hobi.
“You’re creating quite the tripping hazard,” Hobi says in lieu of a greeting. They should really stop doing that, but they’ve come to realize that the attempt at banter is something of a defensive mechanism.
Namjoon glances down at his own legs and chuckles. He’s so tall that his feet nearly reach across the aisleway and touch Hobi’s knees.
“Sorry. I opened to the first page and got sucked in. To be honest, I hadn’t even noticed that I sat down like this.”
“Namjoon-ssi, have you ever thought about getting a library card? It’s not nearly as expensive as book shopping multiple times a week, and there are plenty of areas to settle in and do your reading.”
The apples of Namjoon’s cheeks flush a pretty pink. It wasn’t Hobi’s intention to embarrass him or make him feel bad for coming into Hope World. They were genuinely wondering if the idea had ever crossed Namjoon’s mind. Surely the advice would save him some trouble.
“I, um, have one already. I visit every now and then for my job but honestly, I’m not great at remembering to return library items. I guess I’ve gotten a little too comfortable here, huh?
“No such thing as too comfortable, as far as I’m concerned. I want everyone who comes in here to feel safe and happy. And, frankly, if you sit in here for a few hours and finish reading an entire book without buying it, I’d be impressed, not upset.”
Namjoon huffs a laugh. “No way I’m finishing this in one sitting, but I appreciate that.”
“What is it you do for work, by the way? You mentioned visiting the library for your job.”
“Oh, I’m a music teacher at the elementary school. I like to make copies of the sheet music at the library so that my students have options or things to practice when they advance out of the lesson plans I have for them.”
Hobi’s heart gives that traitorous, endeared flutter. “Your students sound very lucky to have you.”
Namjoon gives a humble shrug, the dimples in his cheeks cratering with his pleased smile.
“I need to get back to work now before my knees lock up, but I’m glad you’re here, Namjoon-ssi. You’re welcome in whenever. Truly,” they lean in and give Namjoon a conspiratorial look. “There’s a very nice armchair in the historical fiction section. Comfiest seat in the shop. I’d suggest that over the floor.”
Hobi and Namjoon stand up at the same time, and their eyes lock. For a moment, neither of them say anything. It’s scary how clearly Hobi can picture themself taking a step forward into Namjoon’s space, wrapping their arms around him and pressing their face into his chest. They imagine his warmth and the security that would come with being cradled in his arms.
Namjoon clears his throat and scratches the back of his neck with the hand that isn’t holding his page in the book.
“Thanks for the tip. I think I’ll go try it out and finish this chapter.”
“Cool,” Hobi responds, desperately trying to get their wits about them. They tuck a strand of hair behind their ear, an almost forgotten nervous habit. “Well, you know where to find me if you need anything.”
~
Namjoon stays past closing again.
This time, it’s a Saturday night and Hobi cannot fathom how a sweet, handsome guy like Namjoon has nothing better to do than getting so lost in the stacks of a bookshop that he doesn’t acknowledge any clocks.
When they find the man, Namjoon is curled up to the armchair Hobi recommended to him the previous week. There’s a near-empty bottle of cold brew balanced on the seat next to him, only the dregs remaining to coat the bottom of the glass. He looks comfy in a cable-knit sweater that manages to be slightly oversized despite his tall, muscular frame.
Hobi stands in front of him and Namjoon doesn’t look up from the compact, hardcover copy of The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows he’s flipping through. Instead, he begins reading a short passage aloud.
“Ozurei– feeling torn between the life you want and the life you have.”
His voice is low and smooth as he reads, with a gentle cadence that Hobi finds to be very soothing. It’s not all that different from his normal, speaking voice but there is a distinct change as he narrates. Namjoon slows down his speech, taking his time to enunciate each word and put emphasis where it’s most impactful.
He glances up at Hobi with a contemplative expression. “Do you ever feel like that?”
“Yeah,” Hobi rasps, their voice getting lodged in their throat. “I think we all do. It seems sort of universal. Unless there’s some lucky fool out there who has achieved all of their dreams and can’t come up with any more.”
“I suppose that’s the point. Everything in here is meant to be a shared human experience. Some of these definitions feel like being peeled open and placed under a microscope.”
Hobi grimaces, but they have to admit they’re curious about the book now.
Holding a hand out towards Namjoon they ask, “May I?”
Namjoon hands over the book without question. He shifts into a more comfortable position in the armchair and watches Hobi flip back towards the beginning.
Try as they might hold it in, a snort escapes Hobi when their eyes land on a word and accompanying definition on the very first page.
“Here’s one for you,” they say, finger tracing the words as they read them for Namjoon. “Kenopsia– the atmosphere of a place that is usually bustling with people but is now abandoned and quiet.”
Hobi snaps the book shut and raises an eyebrow. At first, Namjoon just looks confused. Perhaps wondering why Hobi chose that passage specific to him. Then, awareness seems to dawn on him and he begins looking around them.
“We’re closed for the night,” Hobi confirms gently.
Namjoon sighs and buries his face in his hands. “Sorry,” he groans.
Hobi just chuckles.
Standing from his seat, Namjoon begins gathering his things and preparing to leave.
“I seriously need to find a way to compensate you for all of the extra business hours I’ve accidentally forced on you.”
They think about it for a second. It wouldn’t feel right to actually ask Namjoon for something in return, but since he brought it up himself…
“I liked hearing you read,” Hobi admits. Their mouth pinches up into a small smile that often brings out the little dimples around the corners of their mouth. “Maybe you can read to me again sometime. Like my personal, free audiobook or something.”
They’re half-joking, but Namjoon looks delighted by the idea.
“Deal,” he agrees with a grin.
~
“He sounds perfect.”
Hobi heaves a sigh. “I’m not going to do Namjoon or myself the disservice of acting like he has no flaws.”
“You’re such a realist,” Jimin responds with a roll of his eyes. “He seems perfect for you.”
“Why is this even a topic of conversation?”
“Because I’m worried if you don’t talk about this, you’ll make excuses in your own head for why nothing can happen between you and Namjoon.”
“Who says I even want anything to happen between Namjoon and me?”
Jimin fixes them with a deadpan stare that Hobi valiantly ignores. They continue marking sales prices and pretend that their coworker isn’t hitting the nail on its head with his words.
“See, this is exactly what I’m talking about. Nothing terrible will happen if you admit you’re attracted to him right now, between us,” Jimin wheedles.
“Just so you know, this is rich coming from the person who has been in mutual love with Taehyung for the past three years and still worries about his reaction to you changing your hair.”
Pouting, Jimin runs a hand through his fresh silver highlights. Hobi doesn’t have it in them to be genuinely mean, though.
“It looks great, Jimin-ah. You’re as handsome as ever. You know it, I know it, and Taehyung will know it as soon as he sees you next.”
“It is quite a different look for me….” Jimin pulls out his phone and checks the dyed streaks again in the screen’s reflection.
“And you rock it. But beyond that, I’m pretty sure you could shave your entire head, and Tae would still look at you like you hung the stars in the sky.”
For a moment, the deflection works. Jimin has a pleased little smile on his face as he tucks his phone back in his pocket and picks up a marker to help Hobi markdown sticker prices. It doesn’t last long, however.
“Now, about Kim Namjoon—“
“Enough,” Hobi groans, cutting Jimin off. They see the determination on their well-meaning friend’s face and take a deep breath. Maybe saying the words won’t be too difficult. “I like him a lot, alright? He’s kind, and he’s extremely handsome, and I want to get to know him better. But I’m going to do it in my own time. Okay? Satisfied?”
“Extremely,” Jimin says, beaming at them. There are a lot of underlying emotions in the look. Years of friendship, supporting Hobi, and wanting the best for them. He’s excited by the idea of this budding relationship and the happiness that it could result in.
Hobi knows this. Appreciates it more than they can put in words, oftentimes. And especially now, they’re thankful that Jimin doesn’t always feel the need to delve into it out loud. His gentle meddling is more than enough.
“Good. New topic, please. We are not allowed to speak of—or even think about—Kim Namjoon for the rest of the day. Got it?”
“You might want to reconsider.”
“And why is that?”
Jimin bites his lip and nods toward the windows at the front of the shop. “Because he’s about to walk into the store.”
Hobi whirls around, nearly bumping the cart of discount books next to them. Sure enough, Namjoon is approaching Hope World. He’s talking animatedly with someone noticeably shorter than himself. As he reaches the front door, he stops and holds it open for his companion, and a girl steps inside the shop, looking around like she’s assessing it.
Hobi isn’t a jealous person. They’ve worked long and hard to see past the envy that tries to rear its ugly head deep in their chest and replace it with rationale and, often, admiration. But it’s tough, for a moment, not to succumb to the knee-jerk feeling of dread that fills them at seeing Namjoon so comfortable with a pretty girl.
They shake it off and wave to Namjoon as he ducks into the bookstore. A grin spreads across Namjoon’s face, and he says something to the girl that makes her fix her gaze on Hobi. She has sharp, cat-like eyes, and the sudden attention intimidates Hobi just a little bit. The pair make their way towards them just as another customer asks for assistance, and Jimin offers to help, leaving Hobi standing there by themself.
“Namjoon-ssi, hi! How are you?”
“Good, good. I want to introduce you to someone,” Namjoon gestures to the girl with him. “This is Min Yoonji. She’s my best friend and the reason I got through university. Noona, this is who I’ve been telling you about. Hobi owns the bookshop.”
Yoonji is even prettier up close. Her dark hair is cut into a blunt bob that frames her face and draws attention to her eyes, lined with precision. She’s dressed in all black and carries herself with a self-assuredness that both draws Hobi in and makes them want to stay out of her way.
A beat passes and Yoonji just looks at them, clearly still appraising the situation, until finally she says, “Nice to meet you.”
A smile, small but genuine, graces her lips and Hobi feels pleased to have passed whatever test Yoonji was holding them to.
“Likewise! What brings you two in today?”
“Noona has been mentioning a book she wants to read, so I figured it was a good opportunity to bring her in to see this place,” Namjoon explains.
“Oh, sure! What book is it you’re looking for, Yoonji-ssi?”
“Human Acts by Han Kang.”
Hobi perks up. “I know exactly where to find that one. I can take you to it now. Or, of course, you’re welcome to look around first.”
“I’d love to browse some other time, but I’m actually on a tight schedule,” Yoonji checks her phone for the time, or maybe an incoming message. “I told Joonie I’d stop in today since this was on my way, but I’m afraid I can’t stay long.”
“No worries! We can go grab it and I’ll ring you up right away.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.”
Hobi leads Yoonji to a table near the check-out counter that has an array of best sellers laid out across it. Namjoon trails behind them with his hands in his pockets and a subtle, pleased expression on his face.
When they get up to the register with Yoonji’s book, she turns to face him. “Namjoon-ah, why don’t you go pick something out too? My treat.”
Namjoons eyes go a little wide and he scurries off not entirely unlike a cartoon dog whose momentum takes a moment to catch up with it. Yoonji watches him go before sliding her paperback across the counter for Hobi to scan.
“This is a great place you’ve got. Namjoon speaks very highly of it, you know.”
“Ah, thank you. I’ve put a lot of heart into the shop. Not to mention the blood, sweat, and tears. It’s always nice when people take notice. Namjoon-ssi is a good guy.”
“He is,” Yoonji agrees easily. She’s fixing Hobi with that unwavering look again, measuring them up. “I’m sort of protective of him sometimes. He wants to see the best in people, and that doesn’t always end well.”
Hobi hums in understanding, drumming their fingertips along the countertop. “Trust can be a tricky thing. I think that’s admirable, though. To choose the belief that people are good. Far more valiant than letting disappointment turn you into a cynic.”
“Me too,” Yoonji says, the corner of her mouth turning up. “And I’m happy to see for myself that you’re as lovely as he says you are.”
Hobi blinks. “Me?”
They don’t have time to say anything else before Namjoon rounds the corner and comes back up to the desk with his book choice in hand. Yoonji sends Hobi a wink before facing Namjoon with a pout.
“Took you long enough! I told you I have things to do today.”
“Sorry, Noona,” Namjoon replies, unabashed and clearly used to her teasing.
Namjoon sets Love in the Big City on the counter and both Hobi and Yoonji nod their heads in approval of his choice. Hobi giggles when they catch their synchronized movement.
When Yoonji goes to fish her wallet out of her tote bag, Hobi notices the collection of enamel pins stuck in the fabric. One pin, in particular, draws their eye, the light flashing off the surface of the blue, pink, and white stripes making up the trans flag. A small lump forms in Hobi’s throat, an emotional reaction they haven’t yet been able to shake when crossing paths with another person who just gets it. The unspoken, shared feelings tie them together as part of one community. Instinctively, Hobi’s fingers trace the keychain that hangs from the pocket of their apron. It’s slightly more subtle, a collection of various sized black, yellow, purple, and white beads that likely only mean something to the people who already recognize it.
Hobi snaps out of their moment and scans Namjoon’s book while he and Yoonji chat. They take a sizeable discount off the total before swiping Yoonji’s card (perks of owning the business) and slip a couple of free bookmarks and stickers under the front cover of Human Acts.
Yoonji thanks them and slides the novel into her tote bag.
“I’ve gotta run,” Yoonji says, using an elastic from around her wrist to pull her hair into a ponytail. She does this with the practiced ease of someone who no longer relies on a mirror for such actions. “I promised Seokjin I’d meet him for lunch before I head into work.”
“Tell your boyfriend I say hi,” Namjoon instructs with a playful grin.
Yoonji retaliates by flicking him on the arm and rolling her eyes dramatically. “Brat.”
Before she leaves she levels Hobi with another look. They no longer find it to be so calculating, just Yoonji doing her best to see past the bullshit in the world. “It was really great to meet you. I meant what I said about coming back to browse. And maybe we could get together for coffee sometime and get to know each other better?”
“That sounds awesome,” Hobi replies, maybe with too much sincerity.
Yoonji smiles at them and then gives Namjoon’s shoe a light kick. “I’ll text you later, Joon-ah.”
“Bye, Noona.”
And with that, she’s gone.
“She seems really cool,” Hobi says after Yoonji has left.
“She’s the best,” Namjoon responds with a nod. “And she already likes you. That’s quite the accomplishment. It took me a month of polite persistence and coffee deliveries to get in her good graces when we first met.”
Hobi laughs, picturing the pair as university students, Yoonji putting on the act of an ice queen in order to get free coffee out of Namjoon.
“It was nice of you to bring her here. That book is really popular, you could find it just about anywhere, including online.”
“Ordering online lacks charm. Besides, I really did want her to see this place. And meet you.”
Hobi’s cheeks warm at the words, as well as the memory of what Yoonji said to them before Namjoon returned. “I appreciate it. Are you busy today, too?”
“Nope, I’m free,” Namjoon picks up his new book. “I thought I might hang around and do a bit of reading if you don’t mind?”
“Be my guest, Namjoon-ssi” Hobi answers with a grin.
Namjoon doesn’t move right away, though. He hesitates there, clutching his novel between his hands, and Hobi can practically see the gears turning in his head.
“Anything else?” They ask with a tilt of their head.
“I was just thinking…” Namjoon starts in one big gust of an exhale. “That there’s no need to be so formal with me.”
“Oh,” Hobi replies, their spine stiffening ever so slightly.
It’s not that they’re some rigid, formal person. Far from it, in fact. But over the years they’ve found refuge in the neutrality provided by the business setting and polite language.
“Only if you’re comfortable with it, of course,” Namjoon reassures, tucking his book under one arm. He gestures to something on Hobi’s right before explaining further. “I’ve noticed the picture. You were born in ’94, right? That would make us same-age friends, so we can drop the honorifics. Sorry if this was too forward of me.”
Whatever apprehension had built up in Hobi’s body dissolves upon the words. They glance down at the photo, graduation date stamped across the bottom of the frame and their grandmother smiling proudly at them from the snapshot in time.
“Yeah, that’s right,” their cheeks warm and they’re feeling fond, fond, fond. “I’d like that…Namjoon.”
“Me too, Hobi.”
Closing time comes without a glimpse of Namjoon emerging from the shelves to exit the store. Hobi has a feeling he’s starting to do this on purpose now, but they don’t mind in the slightest.
They go about their typical end-of-day routine and send Jimin home before wandering the store in search of Namjoon.
Once again, Hobi finds him in the overstuffed velvet armchair. He’s got one knee tucked up to his chest with an arm hugging it as he uses his other hand to turn the page of his book. Unsurprisingly, Namjoon seems completely oblivious to the world around him.
“That good, huh?” Hobi asks once they’re within earshot.
Namjoon looks up from the novel and smiles. “You know it is.”
“This is true,” Hobi acknowledges. “We’re closed, by the way.”
“Oh, shit. Again? I’m sorry, Hobi. Let me help you clean up so you can get out of here.”
“Hey, don’t worry about it. Everything’s already done, anyway. You can stay for a while longer if you’d like.”
“Really?”
Hobi nods.
“I’d love that.”
Butterflies flutter joyously in Hobi’s tummy as they perch on the arm of Namjoons chair. “Good.”
They talk. Talk, and joke, and philosophize—and Hobi can’t remember the last time conversation came this easily to them. It’s like their walls have come down and they don’t have to worry about fumbling or backtracking because Namjoon is right there to meet them in the middle of any topic that comes up. And, with him, the subjects seem endless.
The two of them have so much in common, and yet just enough opposition to keep things from being boring. In fact, it’s enthralling, discovering those similarities (and differences) slowly but surely.
It’s beyond easy to lose track of time. It doesn’t occur to either of them to keep an eye on the clock until Hobi is overcome with a yawn too powerful for them to stifle.
“It must be late,” Namjoon muses at last, the reluctance clear in his voice. When he relents and glances at the face of his watch his eyes nearly bug out of his head. “It’s been three hours!”
“Oh, wow,” Hobi laughs. “We really should get out of here.”
They stand up and offer Namjoon a hand. He takes it and rises from the chair he’s sunken into, one of his joints popping loudly. Namjoon holds onto Hobi’s hand a few seconds longer than strictly necessary before he twists his torso this way and that, trying to loosen his body up after so much inactivity.
“Come on, I just need to grab my stuff and lock up.”
The pair make their way back to the front of the shop. While Hobi goes behind the counter and hangs their apron on its peg Namjoon admires them, leaning his elbows on the countertop and propping his chin on his palm.
Hobi grabs their keys and looks up to see Namjoon’s gaze lost in space and a small furrow appearing between his eyebrows. They come around to stand next to him and in a rare moment of boldness press a thumb on the crease that lingers on his forehead.
“What is it?”
“Oh,” Namjoon’s cheeks color and he glances down. After a deep breath, he whispers, “I was just thinking about how much I want to kiss you, and what a bad idea that would be considering I haven’t even worked up the courage to ask you out yet.”
“Oh, ” Hobi echoes. It feels as if the bottom of their stomach has dropped out, releasing a swarm. “What if I ask you out? Does that change anything?”
“Um,” Namjoon manages, completely caught off guard. Hobi doesn’t give him a chance to say anything else.
“Namjoon, will you go on a date with me?”
“Yes,” Namjoon answers, practically before the words have finished leaving Hobi’s mouth.
Hobi laughs, body too full of bliss to hold anything back. “How does dinner sound? Tonight? I’m free now,” they tease, holding up the ring of keys, “just got off work.”
“How extremely convenient. I’m also free now, and dinner would be fantastic.”
“Great. So, how about that kiss?”
Namjoon barks a loud laugh, bashfully covering his face with one hand and taking a moment to recover. For a split second, Hobi is worried that he’s going to change his hand.
But then Namjoon reaches out and cups Hobi’s jaw in both of his hands. He leans down slowly, the hint of a smile still gracing his lips. Somehow, he’s drawing Hobi in, even while he holds them completely still.
Their lips meet and the kiss is careful, so careful. It doesn’t take long before they lose themselves in the feel of it though. Hobi’s heart beats in steady tandem with the thoughts circling their head demanding more, more, more.
They wrap their arms around the back of Namjoon’s neck, pulling him in closer and earning a pleased hum from the back of his throat.
When they finally part for air neither of them goes far. They’re wrapped up in each other grinning like fools in the middle of the empty bookshop. Hobi wants nothing more than to kiss Namjoon again, but they’re pretty sure that if they try they’ll just wind up hitting teeth with all of the smiling that’s happening.
That’s okay. This is only the beginning, Hobi reminds themself. There will be plenty more chances for kisses to come, and the thought alone sends a thrill all the way down to Hobi’s toes.
Instead, they both remain rooted to the spot, embracing one another and drinking in the moment.
Namjoon is just as warm as they imagined he would be.