Work Text:
There are always six things on the store manager's desk: her laptop, an excessive number of framed pictures of her pug, a weekly planner with a pencil and an eraser neatly placed on top, and a dog-of-the-day calendar.
By the time the date on the calendar reads 16th July, 2022 (featuring a cute poodle with a pink bow in its hair), Taehyung has kissed Jeongguk exactly seven times.
“This is the third time.” Jiyoung pinches the bridge of her nose like she has a headache coming on.
Seventh, Jeongguk corrects her, but only in his head.
“In our defence, we didn't know the district manager was going to visit today,” Taehyung points out.
“Yeah!” Jeongguk pipes up. He shifts in his chair, trying to spot his reflection in Jiyoung's metallic coffee flask on the filing cabinet behind her. He has a feeling his cheeks are red and he wants to confirm it.
Jiyoung shakes her head. “Look, you can kiss all you want when you're at home, or out on a date, or whatever. Basically, anywhere but the store, and especially not in front of our district manager in aisle six, when—” she points at Jeongguk, “—you're supposed to be finishing inventory and—” she trains her finger and her gaze on Taehyung, “—you're supposed to be restocking curling irons. And by the way, you also need to fill out one of those relationship forms for HR. I don't think you've done that yet.”
Taehyung laughs, patting Jeongguk's knee. “It's just a joke between two bros, Jiyoung-ssi. We're not together.”
A joke. Jeongguk nods in agreement. His stomach swoops weirdly. “It's just a little teasing. We're just messing around.”
“Uh huh. Right.” Seokjin rolls his eyes from the corner of the room, where he's perched on a fold-up chair, one leg delicately crossed over the other one.
“I really don't think you need to be here,” Jiyoung sighs in his direction.
“As assistant manager, I think I do. How else will I learn how to handle the day-to-day business once you retire and leave this little empire to me?” Seokjin huffs, grandly sweeping a hand through the air. “And by the way, your dog calendar is three days off. It's the thirteenth today, not the sixteenth.”
“I'm not retiring anytime soon, and Corporate does all the hiring anyway,” Jiyoung says with exasperation. “Also, I know about the calendar. I flipped a few pages ahead because these two idiots were stressing me out.” She glares at them as she flips back to the right date. “Needed some cute dogs to calm myself down.”
“Did it work?” Taehyung asks curiously. “In my experience, I’ve found that cat pictures are more calming than dog pictures.”
Jiyoung looks like she wants to throw her eraser at his head.
Stifling a laugh at her annoyed frown and Seokjin's smug smile, Jeongguk grabs hold of Taehyung's hand (so much bigger than his — a fact that he's always marvelled at, considering how he’s bigger and broader in every other sense) and squeezes. It's shorthand for shut up! and also for don't look but there's a celebrity in the aisle behind you, but Jeongguk has faith in Taehyung's ability to guess which one he means.
“I'm gonna need to write you up,” Jiyoung continues, reaching for her laptop. Her eyes narrow, falling to their intertwined hands. “I would strongly suggest you reconsider the relationship form, too.”
Taehyung scoffs again, turning to Jeongguk and cupping his cheek with his free hand. His eyes sparkle with something lighthearted and playful. “We're just best buddies.” He smiles.
Jeongguk clears his throat and looks back at Jiyoung, bowing to her and then to Seokjin. He gets up and pulls Taehyung to his feet. “Don't worry. Taehyungie and I will get back to work and we will refrain from kissing.”
“No kissing in aisle six.” Jiyoung points her finger at them threateningly. “Or anywhere else!”
Taehyung makes a small noise of complaint. Jeongguk's heart flips in a funny way.
“Hey, hyung,” he asks, as they slip out of Jiyoung's office. Taehyung's hand is still clasped in his. “Twenty-five is too young to be having heart problems, right?”
🛒
Jeongguk remembers each of the seven kisses vividly. They're stuck on the walls of his memory like the Jeju island vacation photos on his fridge.
The first kiss (not as romantic as it sounds) was an accident. A soft, open-eyed, shocked press of two mouths when Jeongguk turned on his heel and stumbled right into Taehyung's arms in fear of the warehouse shelf falling on top of him while Namjoon clumsily operated the forklift.
Nobody saw them. They laughed that one off. It was barely even a kiss. If scientifically analysed, it would probably be classified as ‘two people bumping into each other, with the main point of contact being their mouths.’
The second one (and the first one witnessed by Jiyoung) was just a silly dare. It was a slow morning in the breakroom, after a week-long, very intense Christmas sale. Everyone was worked up from the holiday rush, the adrenaline still pumping through them, even though the store was now nearly deserted. It was Jimin who dared Taehyung to do it, or maybe Hoseok? Jeongguk's eyes were closed, his hand curled in Taehyung's sweater as he leaned against him, leeching off of his warmth.
“I dare you to kiss the prettiest person in the room,” Jimin/Hoseok demanded.
“Well, that’s Jeonggukie, hands down, isn’t it?” Without hesitating, Taehyung gently nudged Jeongguk and tipped his chin up with one finger.
'm gon kiss you, he whispered, waiting for Jeongguk's small and surprised okay.
And then they were kissing, and Taehyung tasted like sticky toffee buns, and Jeongguk had already finished his morning coffee but he felt like he'd been injected with approximately double the dose of his usual caffeine, judging by the incessant buzzing in his brain.
Later, Seokjin had been very upset that Taehyung hadn't even considered him. (“You’re handsome, hyung, but Jeonggukie is the prettiest. There’s a difference!”)
Even later, Jeongguk sat outside on the curb, in a daze. He pressed his fingers to his bottom lip and blushed.
Taehyungie-hyung thinks I'm the prettiest…
🛒
The third kiss was a kdrama cliché.
It was the first snow of the year. Their shift ended just as the sky began to sprinkle fuzzy white flakes all over the parking lot. By the time Jeongguk and Taehyung put on their coats, scarves and mittens, everything was dusted with a thin layer of white.
A snowflake landed in Jeongguk's hair. Another settled on the tip of Taehyung's nose. He giggled, trying to lick it off with his tongue.
“Snow is so pretty,” Jeongguk said wistfully. He put his hands in his pockets and scuffed his boot in the soft pile that had gathered next to the pavement. “Kissing in the rain is a cool concept but I wish someone would kiss me in the snow instead.”
“I volunteer!”
Jeongguk looked up, his heart thudding strangely. Taehyung was so close, and his eyes were so bright. There were snowflakes in his eyelashes, and when Jeongguk nodded slowly, he pressed his chapped lips against Jeongguk's.
A puff of warm air grazed his cheek. An un-mittened hand cupped his face and Taehyung tilted his head to deepen the kiss.
They weren't allowed to wear jewellery at work, but having clocked out, standing in the parking lot, Taehyung's fingers were adorned by rings. The smooth metal was cold on Jeongguk's skin, digging in when Taehyung shifted his hand from his cheek to his jaw.
Even without any tongue, the kiss still felt electric. Something curled deep in Jeongguk's belly. Something that fluttered as delicately as a butterfly but burned as ferociously as lava. Something that made stupid tingles go all the way down to his socked toes in his big, clunky boots that gave him a precious two inches on Taehyung.
He shivered when Taehyung pulled away, looking pleased.
“Your wish is my command,” Taehyung said, putting his mitten on again.
He gently tapped the underside of Jeongguk's chin in a way that Jeongguk always hesitated to decisively categorize as fond. He did it to Jimin, too, once in a while. It didn't mean anything.
“Race you to your car?”
It took Jeongguk a second to realize Taehyung had sprinted off already. Behind him, Jimin, Seokjin and Namjoon snickered, having witnessed the whole thing.
🛒
Kisses four and five were exchanged only so a point could be proven.
“There is absolutely no way the Spiderman kiss is a fun experience,” Jeongguk argued. “Like, I love that guy, but that’s a really dumb way to kiss. The position is so… How does your mouth even…” he gestured vaguely. “Where do the chins and noses go? It just feels like too much work to figure out the logistics.”
“I bet it’s not that difficult,” Taehyung said mildly. He popped another piece of kimbap in his mouth and chewed slowly, scrolling through his KakaoTalk and giggling.
Jeongguk huffed, a little annoyed at the lack of attention and the one-sided debate. “What about Spiderman in that scenario? MJ might be standing up, but my dude is upside down, all the blood rushing to his head. It would get uncomfortable very fast.”
Taehyung hummed. “Ah, you’ve got a point.” He put his phone down (finally!) and plucked another piece of kimbap from his lunchbox, offering it to Jeongguk. “But I dunno… I still think it’d be okay. It’s not like he’s hanging upside down for an hour or something.”
Jeongguk leaned in, closed his mouth around Taehyung’s chopsticks and frowned. The kimbap was good — it had fried tofu in it — and momentarily, he was distracted by how Taehyung’s wrist was so close to his face, his knuckles just a breath away from grazing Jeongguk’s jaw.
Before he could collect himself and try a different line of reasoning, Jimin plopped into the empty seat at their table, reaching over to steal an apple slice from the plate in front of Jeongguk. “Whatcha discussing?”
“Whether the Spiderman kiss is actually as sexy in practice as it is in aesthetics,” Taehyung supplied helpfully.
“With all that blood rushing to your head, it’s unlikely you would even enjoy the kiss,” Jeongguk argued.
Jimin looked between the two of them, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Why don’t you try it out?”
There was a three-second long silence while Jeongguk hacked through his awkwardness to find the courage to look at Taehyung, only to find him looking back at him curiously. Jeongguk shrugged in a we could do that way, and Taehyung tilted his head in a I guess that’s one way of deciding who’s right way.
“There are display beds in Furniture,” Jimin continued innocently. “If you take turns to lie down with your heads over the side, the other person can kneel on the floor.”
So, they traipsed out of the breakroom and across the store, to Furniture, where Yoongi gave them an unimpressed stare as Jeongguk and Taehyung got into position.
“They’re testing the Spiderman kiss,” Jimin told Yoongi.
“I don’t care,” Yoongi grunted. “Just don’t muss up the sheets. I just made that bed.”
Lying on his back, Jeongguk hung his head over the side of the bed. Almost immediately, it started to feel heavy, causing a soft dizziness to settle in — a fact that wasn’t helped by just how close Taehyung’s upside-down face was. Jeongguk tried not to fixate on the mole on the tip of his nose, which was difficult, considering how he had always found it very mesmerising.
Even with this being their fifth kiss, it was one that was a lot more orchestrated than the previous ones. It wasn’t quick or spontaneous. There was planning, build-up, suspense. It made Jeongguk’s stomach feel funny.
Just an experiment, he told himself. Nothing special. Just a scientific experiment to test the practicality of a kiss in one of the biggest franchises in the world.
“Ready?” Taehyung asked. His voice sounded a little muffled, but Jeongguk gave him a thumbs-up, and he leaned closer, his palms resting on Jeongguk’s shoulders.
Gently, he closed his mouth over Jeongguk’s bottom lip and oh — they had never used tongue before. Fuzzy static thrummed through Jeongguk as Taehyung’s hands moved to the underside of his jaw, tilting it closer, deepening the kiss. He sucked lightly, coaxing Jeongguk’s mouth open a little more, and just as Jeongguk was starting to feel like he might melt, Taehyung pulled away with a wet pop, his cheeks dusted a rosy pink.
Jeongguk blamed the roaring in his ears to all the blood rushing into them.
“My turn.” Taehyung grinned.
They switched positions, and Jeongguk settled on his knees. His head felt floaty, like all the thoughts had been zapped out of it. No noses had bumped into chins, or vice versa, when he had been Spiderman and Taehyung had been MJ, but Taehyung had finesse and Jeongguk didn’t.
He cleared his throat awkwardly when Taehyung gave him an exaggerated, upside-down wink.
“Get to it, lover boy,” he said, with a teasing pout.
With his heart thumping wildly in his chest, Jeongguk put his hands on the sides of Taehyung’s face, his thumb near Taehyung’s ears while the rest of his fingers were tucked behind, slowly smoothing through his hair. Even upside-down, Taehyung took Jeongguk’s breath away. His mouth was parted invitingly, and Jeongguk grinned against it as he leaned in and kissed him, relishing in the nearly-inaudible moan Taehyung let slip. He ran his tongue across Taehyung’s bottom lip, feeling giddy. Taehyung must have liked it a lot, if the eager way he pulled Jeongguk closer was anything to go by.
It was unlike any of their previous kisses — those had just been an appetizer, a starter, a snack. This was the real deal — the way Taehyung smelled so lovely and boyish, like light rain and sharp wood. The way his mouth was so soft, and his tongue so sweet, so addictive. An exquisite main course. A surfeit of flavours for Jeongguk’s fairly inexperienced palate.
“What the hell is going on?”
They all jumped, including Jimin.
Jeongguk looked at Jiyoung sheepishly through kiss-drunk eyes. Taehyung sat up straight as well, his cheeks a bright shade of red.
“Uh, product testing?” he offered weakly, patting the bed.
Jiyoung inhaled sharply and held up a hand. “I don’t have time for this. Someone fucked up and ordered ten thousand boxes of popsicles instead of a thousand boxes. I have to deal with nine thousand extra boxes of popsicles, in the middle of fucking January,” she added hysterically, stalking off.
“So, who was right?” Jimin giggled.
“I think it depends,” Taehyung mused. “If the Spiderman or MJ was as good a kisser as Jeonggukie here, I wouldn’t mind hanging upside down for a while and getting my brains scrambled.”
Taehyungie thinks I’m a good kisser?
Snickering at Jeongguk’s growing blush, Jimin turned to him next. His fist curled around thin air, pretending to hold a microphone.
“And what do you think, Jeongguk-ssi? How were the kisses?”
Jeongguk looked around shyly, unable to meet Taehyung’s eyes. He leaned closer to Jimin’s outstretched hand, as if he was speaking into the invisible microphone. “Uh, 11/10. Would recommend,” he murmured, mentally smacking himself as soon as the words left his mouth. What a nerd.
“Whoa.” Jimin whistled. “That good?”
Jeongguk squeaked something about being needed at the deli and ran off, promising himself never to bring up Spiderman in front of Taehyung ever again. For his own sake.
🛒
Kiss number six was primarily inspired by cannibalism.
All of the twenty-six, large screen televisions in Electronics were playing the news clip on loop. The headline at the bottom flashed red — HE BOILED THEM, THEN ATE ALL THE MEAT OFF THEIR BONES!! — while the news anchor narrated the gruesome story with a disproportionately calm expression.
Taeri, Taehyung and Jeongguk were wedged onto the display couch in front of the largest TV, with Seokjin perched on one of the armrests. All of them were watching with eyes as wide as saucers.
“Uh, guys,” Jiyoung muttered out of the corner of her mouth, walking up to the four of them. She smiled as pleasantly as she could at a bemused customer who was passing by. “Why are we playing this on all of the display TVs, at full volume? Actually, why are we playing this at all? I could hear it all the way across the store. Some of the customers have started complaining too!”
“Oh.” Seokjin frowned at the remote in his hands. “Is it on full volume? I didn’t notice.”
Jiyoung let out a long-suffering sigh and took the remote from him.
“There we go,” she said, smiling awkwardly at another customer who had stopped to watch the news of the cannibal the police had recently caught. With the screens switched over to their usual selection of random animal videos, she dropped the remote in the pocket of her coat.
“Back to work!” she said distractedly, clapping her hands and walking away — a distant crash, in what sounded like Housewares, must have captured her attention.
Taeri got up unwillingly, leaving just Taehyung and Jeongguk on the couch. “What’s the difference between a zombie and a cannibal?” she asked as she tightened her ponytail.
Even with just two people on the couch, Jeongguk vaguely noticed that Taehyung didn’t shift to a more comfortable position, choosing to keep sitting squashed into Jeongguk's side. He smiled to himself, feeling strangely happy at the continued point of contact.
“Uh, a zombie is undead, but a cannibal is just a regular person who eats people,” he supplied helpfully.
“Zombies aren’t real,” Seokjin said. He hopped off the armrest and yawned. “Cannibals definitely exist, though,” he added, shrugging his broad shoulders in the direction of the televisions.
Frowning, Taeri took out her phone and started typing. “So, wait. Which is the one that you gotta, uh, drive a stake through the heart?”
“That's a vampire,” Jeongguk replied.
“Ah, you're right.” Taeri flipped her phone around to show them the Naver search results.
“Also not real,” Seokjin said.
“I think my previous neighbour was a cannibal. It’s always the ones you expect the least.”
Everyone stared at Taehyung with varying levels of concern and shock. He stared back serenely.
“Great,” Taeri muttered. “Now I have one extra thing to worry about. What if my neighbour is a cannibal too? If I don’t come in to work tomorrow, please come check on me.”
“And get eaten too?” Seokjin asked incredulously. “No thanks.”
The two of them wandered back to their assigned sections, still bickering about cannibals. On the couch, Taehyung and Jeongguk shared an amused look.
“I wonder if I would taste nice to a cannibal,” Jeongguk wondered out loud, before realizing how creepy he must have sounded. He tried to backtrack — “I mean, I assume everyone tastes different, right? Depending on, like, so many factors. Probably how much sugar you consume, for example, or what kind of diet you have overall. And uh, lifestyle must be —”
“I think you taste very nice.”
“Uh, what?”
Taehyung repeated himself, his mouth crinkled in a cute smile.
Jeongguk stared at him. “How do you know that…?”
“When we kissed.” Taehyung shrugged like it was very obvious. Then, his eyes widened curiously. “Oh! What did I taste like?”
“Um, I d-don't remember,” Jeongguk stammered. His brain was already trying to process the fact their kiss had apparently left a deep enough impression on Taehyung that he even remembered what Jeongguk had tasted like. He didn't have enough resources to devote to trying to answer Taehyung's question.
“Refresh your memory, then.”
“What?”
“Come on,” Taehyung raised an eyebrow, grinning excitedly. He bounced in place on the couch. “You tasted like banana milk and honey and spearmint toothpaste! Now I want to know too!”
Jeongguk swallowed. “Um, like, refresh my memory, how?”
“Kiss me again,” Taehyung said, the duh unspoken but clearly implied.
“Right here?” Jeongguk squeaked.
“We can go to the break room if you like?”
That sounded like a much better option than kissing on the floor, while they're supposed to be working, so Jeongguk nodded and followed Taehyung on wobbly legs.
He asked me to kiss him he asked me to kiss him he asked me to —
“Hurry up!”
Jeongguk picked up his pace. “Uh huh.”
And so — in the break room, with Namjoon and Yoongi as mostly uninterested witnesses, Jeongguk kissed Taehyung slowly and deeply, his cheeks flushed with warmth and his hands skittering over Taehyung's waist. Getting lost in the intoxicating little sounds Taehyung was making, Jeongguk nearly forgot the real purpose of the kiss — focus, dipshit! Stop thinking about how good his chest feels against yours — fuck, is his hand on my butt?
“What's the verdict?” Taehyung asked teasingly, as soon as they pulled away for air.
“It's like, um, dark chocolate,” Jeongguk said slowly. “Not overly sweet. Rich. Complex.”
“Are you describing wine or Taehyungie's mouth?” Yoongi asked dryly.
Once again, Jeongguk scurried off as far as he could, his heart racing.
🛒
And then, the seventh kiss.
It was an ill-fated Tuesday morning, and Jeongguk had woken up to realize he was out of milk, eggs and bread, leaving him with virtually no civilized breakfast options. His PlayStation refused to boot up when he tried to squeeze in some COD before leaving for work, and it rained on the way to the Lotte Mart.
Hungry, damp and disgruntled, Jeongguk shuffled up to the shift assignments tacked up on the bulletin board in the breakroom and groaned when he saw that he was scheduled in softlines for the first half of his shift. Which started at three p.m. Which meant that, when he trudged along aisle thirteen and got to the place he hated most in the store, it was already in shambles, considering the store had been open for seven hours already.
The shelves were a sea of sweaters, unfolded and draped haphazardly with no respect for hue or tone. Shirts were strewn all over the discounted-items piles, with no way of telling which ones were supposed to go where unless you looked at each one’s price tags. Jeans legs hung off of the shelves, with the cuffs on one pair even rolled up, like it had been put on in the dressing room and fucking styled before being taken off and thrown unceremoniously back on the shelf.
And speaking of the dressing rooms — Jeongguk tiptoed towards them with a hesitant curve to his usually-bright customer smile. You never knew what kind of demon could be back there, just waiting for an unsuspecting employee to appear.
Someone stuck in tight, leather pants, wanting to be helped out of them? Been there, done that.
Someone livid that they’d accidentally picked up a size too small and had caused it to rip at the seams when they’d tried it on? Uh, not Jeongguk’s fault, but he’d tried to smooth over the mishap anyway.
Someone who had thought the dressing room would be the perfect place to throw up after a night of heavy drinking? Sure, why not. Let’s have Jeongguk clean it up.
None of those instances, though, even came close to the main reason why he hates softlines — which was the insane amount of folding involved. Folding tops and sweatshirts so they could be stacked in aesthetic piles. Folding jeans and pants so they could be stuffed back on their shelves. Folding bedsheets and putting them back in their plastic bags.
But Jeongguk hates folding clothes. Every time a customer walked out of a dressing room and dumped their unwanted clothes on the nearest shelf, his blood boiled a little more.
“Wow, you look positively murderous,” Seokjin chirped, walking up with his little clipboard and a pen tucked behind his ear.
Jeongguk turned to him with his best puppy-dog eyes. “Hyung,” he started, voice honey-sweet. “Hyung, can I be shifted to some other part of the floor? I’ll take anything else, literally anything at all.”
Seokjin pretended to think, which was worse than him actually thinking. “Hmm… anything?”
“Anything,” Jeongguk confirmed, even though he could tell his pleading wasn’t going to go anywhere. “You know how good Hobi-hyung is at folding stuff?” He tried, as a last ditch attempt. “He’s just like, kapow! Phaw! Peyo! Whapow! And the whole section is suddenly back to normal and shining and pretty, and like, super aesthetic, and the customers are just lining up like, wow! What is this incredible section, huh? And then sales will go up and Jiyoung-ssi will be so pleased with all of us.”
Seokjin raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you suggesting I switch Hoseok to softlines? Is that what you’re trying to say?”
“Uh, maybe? Yeah?”
“Wow, that’s a huge change to consider, isn’t it?” Seokjin leaned against the nearest shelf and stared off into the distance, his eyes glazing over like he was in deep thought. “Can I really… go against the decisions I made seven hours ago, when we opened the store,” he started slowly. “Is that possible? Can I just… rub off your name right here,” he poked at his clipboard, his expression a mixture of surprise and shock, “and put down Hoseok’s? Is that the morally correct thing to do? Can I really —”
Jeongguk huffed and kicked at Seokjin’s ankle, making him lose his balance and wobble. “Forget I asked.”
“Yah! I’m your hyung!” Seokjin snapped his fingers in lukewarm anger. “And your superior in terms of workplace hierarchy. Wait, where are you going? Come back here, you brat!”
Jeongguk turned around and held up an armful of unfolded clothes, shrugging. “Got a job to do, right?”
An hour later, his day was considerably brightened by Taehyung popping his head around the rack of suit jackets on sale, grinning widely and holding a to-go container of two slushies in the red-and-white store brand cups. He must have stopped by the deli on the way over.
“Wow.” Taehyung pinched the lapel of the closest jacket between two fingers of his free hand. “This is the most synthetic material I’ve ever seen.” He grimaced. “I’d melt within an hour of putting this on. Who even buys suits at a supermarket?”
Jeongguk giggled, happy to finally have someone he could vent to about the shitty customers and his shitty shift assignment. “I just sold one a while ago. Some dude with, like, balding hair. He kept insisting he was as old as me. Honestly, it got a little creepy towards the end. Is that raspberry, by the way?” he added, looking eagerly at the slushie cup Taehyung was holding out to him.
“Hell yeah, it’s raspberry.” Taehyung looked a little wounded. “You don’t think I know that by now?”
“Are you an actual angel?” Jeongguk grinned.
With great flair, Taehyung flipped an invisible lock of hair over his shoulder and shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind being called an angel,” he said graciously.
With its artificial fruit flavoring and an almost lethal dose of sugar, the slushie was like a rush of dopamine to Jeongguk’s brain, and he gave Taehyung a woozy smile after the first, blessed sip, feeling warm even as the icy liquid burned through his chest.
He had been a little embarrassed around Taehyung after the whole tell-me-what-I-taste-like thing (because holy shit, Taehyungie-hyung had straight up asked me to kiss him), but the two of them just spent too much time together for any awkwardness to linger for too long. It had melted away within a day or two, helped along by Taehyung’s incessant chatter about the kdrama he was watching, as well as the frequent butt slaps, hair ruffles and playful headlocks they’d always traded with each other.
Jeongguk still thought about the kisses though. Sometimes.
“Did Jin-hyung send you?”
“No, I’m on general floor duty right now,” Taehyung replied, leaning against the linen shelf. “I got bored. It’s a slow day.”
Jeongguk rolled his eyes and looked around softlines, which was still a huge mess, even though he had been folding and putting things away for nearly an hour. “The rest of the store might not have a lot of traffic, but it’s like a pre-Chuseok sale in here.”
“I can help,” Taehyung offered. “I mean, if you want.”
“Yes, please.” Jeongguk pouted. “I want to die every time I’m put in softlines.”
“Well, that’s a health hazard then, isn’t it?”
“Tell that to Jin-hyung,” Jeongguk grumbled. “I barely even fold my clothes at home. They all go on a special chair that’s just for laundry. They go from the chair to my body to the hamper to the machine and that’s it.”
Taehyung giggled at Jeongguk’s grumpy expression and flicked his chin. “Cute,” he murmured. “Would a little kiss motivate you?”
Jeongguk’s heart skipped a beat, doubled back and began to pound at twice its normal speed. “Um, a kiss?”
Is that what we do now?
Taehyung nodded, stepping closer. With his free hand, he gently cupped Jeongguk's face, thumb stroking the corner of his mouth, waiting.
Jeongguk's grip on his drink slipped slightly, and he swallowed, hoping Taehyung wouldn't notice. Then, because he was so weak, he nodded, too. Okay.
I deserve a kiss anyway, he thought. Today has been terrible.
Looking strangely pleased, Taehyung leaned in and pressed slushie-cold lips against Jeongguk's.
It was slow, sweet and soft — unhurried, like Taehyung wanted to take his time, like he was trying to learn the shape of Jeongguk's mouth with his, map it out, commit it to memory.
Jeongguk sighed quietly into the kiss when Taehyung nipped lightly at his bottom lip, taking it between his teeth and tugging. And then, the kiss deepened, gaining an almost-feverish intensity, leaving Jeongguk numb and feeling boneless. He bit back a shameful moan when Taehyung licked into his mouth and crowded him against the nearest shelf.
This is different, his brain screeched at him. He melted like the leftover ice in their slushie cups under Taehyung's touch, letting him angle his jaw whichever way he wanted. It made him feel disgustingly precious — why was Taehyung being so tender with his hands, when his mouth was so rough? Something just felt new —
— “Do you two work here? This is highly inappropriate behaviour.” A sharp, unfamiliar voice broke through Jeongguk's sluggish thoughts, and he pushed Taehyung off, belatedly realizing that they were in public.
Taehyung looked just as dazed as Jeongguk felt, and his lips were red and kiss-swollen, which made Jeongguk's knees momentarily buckle. I did that, he thought hysterically.
“Excuse me.” The voice cut through Jeongguk's euphoria. This time, it sounded angrier, and was accompanied by an incredulous rap of knuckles against the wooden shelves.
“Uh, how may I help you?” Taehyung turned to the man, straightening up and stepping away from Jeongguk.
His brain still fuzzy, Jeongguk's eyes dropped to the name tag on the man's lapel. Kang Ha-Joon, District Manager. He gasped, hand shooting out to clutch at Taehyung's arm. A second later, he realized it might be better to put as much distance between himself and Taehyung as he could, but the district manager's mouth was already pinched into a straight, disapproving line, and Jeongguk knew it was no use now.
And then they were in Jiyoung's office, and Taehyung was calling their kisses a joke between friends, and Jeongguk’s heart was being crushed like it was a recalled product being thrown into the giant compactor in the warehouse.
And then he promised Jiyoung that they wouldn’t kiss anymore.
And then —
— then, things went back to normal, minus all the kissing, and they didn’t talk about it.
🛒
Seven kisses over a span of eight months (though they'd known each other for far longer than that) aren't enough for Jeongguk to feel a daily lack, if he's honest. It's not like it used to be a regular habit. They would kiss if an opportunity arose, or if one of them volunteered, or if they needed to prove a point. It had been random. There was no pattern, and therefore, no real meaning behind any of the kisses.
A joke, Jeongguk tells himself, repeating Taehyung’s words.
He can’t help but notice, though, that after the self-imposed kissing ban, Taehyung has grown just a shade quieter. It’s not enough that Jeongguk can call him out on it (if he even finds the courage to initiate such a conversation), but enough that he can feel the difference.
Taehyung still teases him, still ruffles his hair, still pinches his cheeks and calls him ‘cute’. But there are moments where he stares at Jeongguk with a weirdly pensive look, gone before Jeongguk can blink, or when he takes an extra few, sleepy seconds to respond to something Jeongguk has said, his eyes unfocused. Sometimes his tone is a little mild, like he’s holding back.
It’s nothing, Jeongguk tells himself. It’s just awkwardness. That’s understandable.
He ignores, too, the way his own stomach swoops when Taehyung is too close — standing behind him and reaching for his mug on the cupboard shelf, sitting next to each other in the breakroom during morning briefings with their knees brushing under the table, coming out of the bathroom and nearly running into each other, hands flat on biceps, swivelling each other the right way around, nervous smiles on their faces.
It’ll all fizzle out. It’s just a little awkward for now.
Jeongguk nods to himself and looks at his watch. With a long-suffering sigh, even though it’s only been a couple minutes since the store closed, he jabs at the button on his microphone and clears his throat.
“Attention, shoppers,” he says pleasantly. Irritation thrums under his skin at the sight of the lingering customer.
Singular. One, single customer, ruining everyone’s plans for the night.
“The store closed ten minutes ago,” Jeongguk continues, voice crackling over the PA system. “Many of us would like to leave and go home to our loved ones. If you’re still shopping, you’re being a dick! Don’t be a dick!”
There is a soft gasp from near his feet, under the customer care counter, where Taehyung is lodged between the wastepaper basket and a blender that someone had returned earlier that day. Once he was done with the last of his shift tasks, he had crawled there silently and without explanation. Jeongguk is used to his tendency to go curl up in odd places, so he didn’t ask questions either. It was strangely comforting anyway, when his ankle would accidentally brush against Taehyung’s knees.
“Rude!” Taehyung giggles. He looks up at Jeongguk with eyes crinkled in amusement. “Can you actually call the customers dicks?”
“It didn’t make any difference, so it doesn’t matter,” Jeongguk grumbles, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
He rolls his chair a few inches away from the counter so he can see Taehyung properly. Even the bleached light from the fluorescent bulbs overhead can’t make his face look gaunt and pale. He looks just as pretty as he did in the morning, when he first walked into the breakroom, handed Jimin and Jeongguk their usual coffees and ruffled their hair. Sometimes Jeongguk half-suspects there’s magic involved — surely no human being (except maybe Seokjin) can look this flawless at the tail-end of a ten-hour workday? He wonders if Taehyung has a secret skincare routine and whether he'd share it if Jeongguk asked very nicely.
He looks up at the customer again. “He’s one of those, you know? The ones who weigh each and every pro and con of all the available products before they make a decision. He’s going to take absolute ages.”
Taehyung hums and is silent for a while, his face scrunching in concentration like he’s brooding over something. Then — “Who’s the loved one?”
“Huh?”
“You said we all want to go home to our loved ones.” Taehyung sounds embarrassed.
Jeongguk laughs. He tries not to overthink the question. “Just Overwatch and ramen for me. You?”
Taehyung unscrews the cap of the tiny bottle he’s holding and blows delicately on the bubble wand attached to its inside. “Yeontan,” he says, unsurprisingly. “And maybe the last episode of that kdrama I've been watching.”
Six, iridescent bubbles fly into Jeongguk’s face. One of them pops when it touches his nose, and he scrunches his face in tired delight. Even when he’s dead on his feet after a long shift, it’s a comfort to know that he can count on Taehyung to make him laugh at something silly or stupid.
“Where did you get that?” Jeongguk asks, reaching for the bottle. Taehyung surrenders it easily, smiling when Jeongguk blows out a stream of bubbles, too.
“Lost and found,” Taehyung shrugs. “People leave the weirdest shit behind. I once found a half-eaten bowl of cereal on a stack of toilet paper rolls. We don’t even sell the kind of cereal it was.”
“Huh.” Jeongguk isn’t really surprised. “Wait.” He narrows his eyes. “Did you actually try it?”
Taehyung pinches his thumb and forefinger together and swipes them across his mouth, giggling. “I plead the fifth.”
“You’re a heathen.” Jeongguk shakes his head.
At cash counter #3, Hoseok lowers his head in his hands when the customer totters back to the oral care aisle and reappears with yet another toothbrush to add to the growing pile in his cart. In the deli, Yoongi and Jimin appear to have started an arm-wrestling match at an empty table. In softlines, Haewon stares daggers at the customer while she retrieves unwanted clothes from the dressing room hooks and puts them back in their places. Jiyoung and Seokjin wander up and down Electronics, switching off the large-screen TVs with matching frowns on their faces, while Taeri violently mops the floor near the pharmacy where someone’s kid had thrown up while they were getting their booster shot.
Despite all the negative energy being directed his way, the customer remains serene and unperturbed.
Did he even hear my announcement about the store closing? Jeongguk wonders. His eyes slide to poor Namjoon, hovering next to the customer as he discusses the toothbrushes in his cart at length. Jeongguk feels a stab of pity for him.
“It’s midnight.”
Jeongguk looks at Taehyung again. “I know right? Is he ever going to leave?”
Taehyung shakes his head, reaching out to curl a hand around Jeongguk’s ankle. “I meant it’s sixteenth July now, officially.” He raises his eyebrows, as if the date is supposed to mean something to Jeongguk.
Obediently, Jeongguk trawls through the depths of his video-games-ramen-and-IU-filled brain, looking for clues. Coming up empty-handed, he rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Will you be upset if I admit that I don’t know why that day is special?” As soon as the words leave his mouth, something sparks in the dusty corners of his mind. “Oh, wait! The dog calendar… uh, the day Jiyoung-ssi had flipped to when she was scolding us on Tuesday? That was the sixteenth, right?”
He doesn’t understand what’s important about that, but it’s the only event he can think of.
A smile pulls at Taehyung’s mouth. “No, silly. It’s your store anniversary. You joined us three years ago, Jeonggukie.”
Jeongguk’s eyes widen. “It’s been that long?”
“Uh huh. I was going to buy you a drink after work.” Taehyung rolls his eyes and points his thumb in the general direction of the customer. “If that dude ever leaves, that is.”
“That’s really, uh, that’s super sweet of you,” Jeongguk says shyly. “I didn’t even remember today is when I joined.”
“Ah, come on.” Taehyung smacks his knee playfully. “A bomber jacket on top of a shirt that had more buttons undone than done up? No one could forget that day. I was surprised that Jiyoung-ssi hired such an indecently dressed man.”
Jeongguk burns with embarrassment. “I guess some of my fashion choices have been a little questionable.”
“Still looked hot.” Taehyung grins, playing with the rip in Jeongguk’s jeans in an absentminded manner. His knuckles graze Jeongguk’s bare knee, and it makes him shiver when his fingers slip under the fabric, tugging lightly.
It’s times like these — when Taehyung’s gaze is heavy and borders on hungry, when Jeongguk can feel his own body arch up invitingly, his legs falling open without his permission, when Taehyung’s pink tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip and Jeongguk’s eyes have to be torn away from his bow-shaped mouth — it’s times like these that Jeongguk is acutely reminded of their seven kisses.
And unlike other times, the reminder now is coupled with a bone-deep ache and something very butterfly-and-lava unfurling in his chest.
Swallowing, Jeongguk turns his attention back to the customer.
“You see, I'm really worried about tartar buildup,” the man is saying. Namjoon barely manages to suppress a groan and keep his ‘I care so deeply about the customer’ smile intact. “I was only worried about plaque but then I went to my dentist and she told me she's never seen this much tartar in her entire career. Can you imagine? I bet I broke a record or something. So this toothbrush really matters, you know?”
“Uh huh.” Namjoon smiles, eyes glazed over. “Of course. Really matters, yeah.”
He takes out his phone discreetly and hides it behind his back, frowning in concentration and then giving Jeongguk a vague sort of nod. Moments later, Jeongguk’s phone vibrates. He picks it up to see a notification in their work group chat.
Namjoon-hyung ❤️: pld jekp
“Uh…”
Jeongguk turns his phone towards Taehyung, who squints at the incomprehensible text with a pinched forehead.
“Oh! It says ‘please help’.’” he smiles brightly. Then, he leans closer and his mouth tilts downwards. He pokes at the screen, jostling the phone in Jeongguk’s grip. “Why’s there a red heart after hyung’s contact?”
Jeongguk quickly moves his phone out of reach. “I gave everyone emojis,” he mumbles.
“What’s mine?”
“Ah, I don’t remember,” Jeongguk says, trying to delay the inevitable.
“Just check then,” Taehyung pouts.
Jeongguk hums, fiddling with his phone case.
“Come on,” Taehyung wheedles. Then, suddenly, he smirks. “Oh! Is it too embarrassing? Or super sappy?”
“No,” Jeongguk says defensively.
“Then show me, please, Jeonggukie. Please?” Taehyung pulls out his best puppy-dog eyes, chipping away at Jeongguk’s resolve.
He gives in with an embarrassed sigh, opens up Taehyung’s contact and flips the phone towards him again, unwilling to say it out loud.
Taehyung looks at the screen and clutches a hand to his heart, looking pained. “A sun? Why don’t I get a red heart? Don’t you love me? Did you forget the time when Jin-hyung came by when you were working the deli and you panicked and put your vape in a tub of guac which then got mixed with all the other tubs and I spent two hours looking through all of them to help you find it? Or the time I covered for you when you were new and didn’t know how to work the price tag gun and ended up repricing all electronics at twenty-five won instead of reducing them by twenty-five percent? When has Namjoon-hyung ever done any of that for you, huh?” He keels over on his side dramatically, a little out of breath after his long speech. “Am I just a nobody to you?”
Jeongguk rolls his eyes and pokes Taehyung’s shins with his foot. “It’s because you brighten up my days and shit,” he mutters. “You’re like spring sunshine.”
Taehyung stills for a minute and then unfolds himself slowly, sitting up straight again. His cheeks are pink. He pretends to think carefully. “Okay. I’ll accept that.”
Jeongguk is just about to try and explain it better when his phone vibrates once again.
Namjoon-hyung ❤️: dktp flirtkng and HP. ME
“Translate,” Jeongguk asks Taehyung.
“Uh.” Taehyung peers at the text. “He’s saying, ‘Stop flirting and help me.’ Huh? Who’s flirting?” His eyes widen and he gets onto his knees so he can peer over the top of the counter in the direction of the deli. “Are yoonmin making eyes at each other again? Oh my god! They’re arm-wrestling. Yes, Jiminie! Get it!”
Jeongguk feels a little light-headed when Taehyung puts his palm on his thigh, squeezing briefly as he uses it as support to stand up. “They’ve been doing that for the past five minutes,” he says, clearing his throat.
“Arm-wrestling as an excuse to hold hands. A classic move.” Taehyung smiles fondly. “Anyway! Time to help Namjoon-hyung?”
In a daze, Jeongguk turns to look at the oral care aisle, where the customer is now holding up two toothbrushes that look pretty much identical.
“It’s just that, I’ll really have to live with my decision, you know?”
“So true.” Namjoon nods exaggeratedly. Jeongguk can see the cracks beginning to appear in his smile.
“It is a really big decision.” Namjoon claps his hands together, his eyes brightening. “Maybe you can go home and sleep on it. Make a well-informed decision tomorrow!”
“That’s what I said to myself yesterday,” the customer says mournfully. He takes another look at the aisle full of mouthwash, dental floss, toothbrushes and toothpaste. “Oh!” he says suddenly. “What if it’s not the brush that matters but what I put on it?”
Namjoon doesn’t even wait for him to walk off before turning on his heel and heading straight to customer care.
“Is he fucking kidding me?” he groans, slumping against the dividing wall and closing his eyes.
“Wow.” Jeongguk is impressed. “You hardly ever swear,” he says to Namjoon, eyes wide.
“It’s okay,” Taehyung chirps. “I got this.”
He takes his phone and holds it close to the microphone used to make the store-wide announcements. With a tap, he turns on heavy metal music, blasting it through the PA system. He presses his finger down on the volume control until it’s reached the max level.
At the cash counter, Hoseok winces, holding his hands up to his ears. The rest of the employees startle too, but the customer merrily continues to pore over the wide selection of toothpaste.
“We're going to die in here,” Taeri yells over the noise as she walks up to them. “We're going to be here forever. He'll never leave.” She leans on her mop and sighs loudly. “I just want to go home. It was supposed to be a pizza-and-soju kind of night. My girlfriend was going to come over.”
“You should probably ask her for a raincheck.” Namjoon grimaces.
The customer wanders back to the front, looking around for Namjoon before approaching a miserable Hoseok, all the light drained from his usually cheerful smile.
Taehyung turns off his loud music with a sad shrug. “I tried,” he says.
Jeongguk looks at Taehyung, eyes roaming over his black, fitted pants and black turtleneck. He looks chic and put-together. He also looks a little bit like… a robber. A very sexy robber, but a robber nonetheless. Someone who wouldn’t look out of place next to a car, doing suspicious things like — uh, how exactly do people steal cars? Jeongguk isn’t quite sure about the specifics, but he’s sure Taehyung will know what to do.
“Hyung, take off your vest,” he says suddenly, pawing at Taehyung’s blue, uniform vest. Without waiting, he slips it partially off the shoulder closest to him, hands skittering over the firm, well-defined muscle. Taehyung swears he doesn’t work out, but Jeongguk has always suspected he’s lying.
“First, kissing at work, and now groping each other?” Taeri gasps, her hand over her mouth as she pretends to be scandalized. Jeongguk sticks his tongue out at her, feeling unjustifiably smug.
“What’s the plan?” Taehyung asks, shrugging off the vest and depositing it on the counter.
Jeongguk roots around in his drawer for a black mask and hands it to Taehyung. “Go outside, put this on and, like, make it seem like you’re stealing his car. I’ll make an announcement saying that someone just saw you doing that, and ask him to go check. He leaves the store to see what’s going on and we lock the doors behind him. Voila!”
“Wow, I feel like that might actually work.” Namjoon whistles. Taeri looks impressed too, but Jeongguk is only really concerned with what Taehyung thinks.
“Best idea you’ve ever had.”
Jeongguk glows at the praise. “Alright” He turns and points at Namjoon. “Hyung, go check what his plate number is so I can mention it in my announcement.”
Namjoon disappears immediately, and Taeri goes off to tell the others that ‘there’s hope yet’.
Taehyung scrubs a hand through his hair, looking happier than he has all night. “Our saviour.” He smiles at Jeongguk, gently tapping two fingers under his chin once again.
“It’s nothing,” Jeongguk replies bashfully.
Before Taehyung can continue praising him (because once he gets started, he doesn’t really stop until he’s exhausted all of Jeongguk’s exceptional talents and qualities, or is interrupted), Namjoon reappears, grinning widely. He hands Jeongguk a slip of paper with the plate number written on it.
“Here,” he says, sounding a little out of breath. He turns to Taehyung with a bright smile. “You don’t even need to go out there. The car isn’t parked in a spot that he can see from the doors. He’d have to properly go outside and by that time, we’d have locked the doors anyway, so it doesn’t matter if there’s someone out there actually pretending to steal it.”
“Awesome!” Taehyung grins. “The less work, the better.”
He hops up on the counter right next to where Jeongguk is sitting, so that all Jeongguk can see is the curve of his ass and his broad back. Grabbing Jeongguk’s microphone for him, he twists around and holds it out. “Hit it, baby!”
Jeongguk blushes softly at the casual pet name, takes the microphone from him, and clears his throat.
“Attention, shoppers,” he starts in his gentlest, most pleasant voice. “Are you the owner of the light-blue sedan with the following plate number?” He reads it off the piece of paper and looks up, grinning. “You might want to go out and check on your car because I’ve just been informed that a suspicious figure is hovering around it, probably in the hopes of stealing it. Stay safe out there!”
The customer drops the toothpaste he’s holding and looks around with wide, panicked eyes.
Namjoon doubles over laughing, and in the deli, Jimin and Yoongi are momentarily distracted from their arm-wrestling. ‘Come on, come on!’ Taehyung whispers gleefully under his breath. Leaving his cart, the man hurries outside with Namjoon on his heels, ready to close the doors behind him and end the toothbrush-and-toothpaste-driven apocalypse once and for all.
The store erupts into loud cheers and applause. Hoseok claps the loudest and breaks out into an impromptu dance, grabbing a passing Haewon and twirling her around. Pink-cheeked, Yoongi and Jimin trudge out of the deli. Both of them are holding their hands awkwardly at their sides, as if they’re not sure what to do with them.
And Taehyung — Taehyung hops off the counter with a bounce in his step. He turns to Jeongguk. His eyes are bright and his mouth is parted, like an athlete who has just scored the winning goal and runs up to their partner in wild joy, or a soldier who returns from war and gets to see their lover again. Taehyung leans closer like he’s drawn to Jeongguk, like he needs to touch, hold, kiss.
As a celebration, his expression seems to say. For getting rid of the customer and for you completing three years.
But Jiyoung is there, and so are all their other co-workers, and they don’t kiss as celebration — they’re not supposed to kiss at all anymore — so Jeongguk gently places his hands on Taehyung’s arms to keep the distance between them and smiles at him with as much excitement as he can muster.
“I’m holding you to that drink, hyung,” he says, his voice wavering only a little.
After a moment’s pause, Taehyung nods and takes a tiny step back. “Let’s go.”
🛒
A week crawls by. Jeongguk is cleaning up in Housewares when he hears Jimin’s voice.
“It’s the only way, Taehyung-ah. Trust me.”
“It feels weird,” Taehyung replies, sounding unsure. “I don’t know if it’s gonna help, honestly.”
“Come on, there’s no harm trying. Here, it’s all set up, see?”
There’s a pause, and then Taehyung speaks again, his voice absent of his previous reluctance. “Oh, what about this one?”
“Nah. There’s something weird about him. His eyes perhaps. They look unnaturally wide to me.”
“Yeah. You’re right. Pass. Oh, who is this?”
“Isn’t that just a picture of Son Heung-min, the captain of our national football team?”
There’s a disappointed whine from Taehyung and a giggle from Jimin. “How do people think they can even get away with that? Like, who even falls for something like this?”
“Plenty of suckers out there,” Jimin says sagely. “Didn’t you just ask me who it was? If I hadn’t been here, wouldn’t you have swiped right?”
“Shut up.” A heavy pause, full of muffled snickers from Jimin. “Wow. Look at this one, though!”
Jeongguk’s stomach swoops in a weirdly uncomfortable and unpleasant way. A dating app? Distractedly, he leaves his mop leaning against the endcap display as his legs unconsciously direct him towards the Cosmetics counter, where Taehyung and Jimin are huddled together.
“Wow, an online dating app, huh?” Jeongguk finds himself saying awkwardly when he reaches the two of them. His throat feels incredibly dry, like he ate sand for breakfast. “I’ve never tried that.”
Taehyung and Jimin look up.
“It’s kind of fun, you know?” Taehyung replies, sounding a little defensive.
Jeongguk fights the urge to explain that he didn’t mean to imply that it’s weird or unexpected. Because nothing is weird about this at all. Absolutely nothing. And Jeongguk is definitely not surprised to hear about this, not at all.
Maybe their days of sometime-kissing really are over. Maybe Jeongguk really did put an end to them when he told Jiyoung they wouldn’t partake in such things in the store and would focus only on their work.
“It’s great,” Jimin agrees. His smile is devilish. “I had a lot of fun with the guy I met on it last week.”
“I’m not super serious about it, but I thought I’d try.” Taehyung shrugs. “There’s loads of weirdos on here, though,” he says, frowning at the screen. “Uh, proficient in Microsoft Excel? Does he think this is LinkedIn? Who even cares about Excel anymore?”
“I wanna see, too,” Jeongguk hums, sliding behind the counter and leaning over Taehyung’s shoulder.
It’s morbid curiosity, he knows, but he’s consumed by an intense urge to want to know what kind of people Taehyung is going to swipe right on. Maybe they have something he lacks. Maybe it will feel like closure to definitively, explicitly and categorically understand who Taehyung’s type is.
On Taehyung’s other side, Jimin makes small noises of approval or disdain as Taehyung goes through the profiles.
“Aww, he's kinda cute,” he coos, looking at someone called Park Hyungsik.
Jeongguk stares at the photos, feeling a sudden and inexplicable urge to punch the guy in the face, right in the middle of his million-dollar smile.
“Aw, look at him with that adorable dog!” Taehyung exclaims.
Jeongguk rolls his eyes, unimpressed by the canine trap. “Isn’t he too… I don’t know… hipster-y? I mean, come on, really?” He swipes back to a previous photo, where Hyungsik is standing next to an oven with a plate of cookies in his hands, laughing at nothing, his eyes scrunched behind a trendy pair of glasses. Another swipe, to the photo of him in a park, a coffee in hand while he’s looking up at the sky with a wistful expression. Red and golden leaves swirl around him. “They’re all so staged, and he looks like an idol. He can’t be real.”
“Are you saying idols aren’t real people?” Jimin raises an eyebrow.
Jeongguk ignores him and crowds closer to Taehyung, leaning over him to swipe left and frown at the next guy. “A selca in just his underwear? Really? Clearly he’s just trying to show off the goods.” He swipes left again. “Next!”
“Okay.” Taehyung laughs. “I guess you’re just… doing it for me, huh?”
“You deserve better than this, hyung,” Jeongguk mutters.
“Too bland.” He swipes.
“Too creepy.” He swipes again.
“A part-time gardener? What does that even mean? What does he do the rest of the time?” Shaking his head, he swipes left.
“A ‘professional wanderer’? Uh, right. Probably mooching off his parents’ money and has never seen a hard day’s work in his life.”
Taehyung is quiet, humming in agreement at most of his comments. He’s only barely holding his phone now, leaning back and letting Jeongguk do whatever he wants. And Jeongguk keeps swiping, unsatisfied with the quality of the pool of men to choose from.
“This is ridiculous! We’ve gone through, what, nearly twenty-five profiles?” He shakes his head. “None of them are good enough for you, hyung.”
“Yeah?” Taehyung asks, his voice a low, deep murmur.
“Yeah!” Jeongguk nods. “You deserve someone kind and funny and willing to listen to all your dumb jokes and go along with your little skits and hold your hand whenever you’re feeling down. Your love language is physical touch, right, so when you’re sad, you need lots of hugs and cuddles. You need someone who understands your cute things, you know, like on the rare occasion you make french toast, you absolutely drown them in caramel syrup. Like, that’s cute, you know? They need to get that that’s cute. Or like, when you’re walking to your car in the evening and the bugs are plaguing you? You need someone who’s gonna, uh, who’s gonna swat them away.”
Feeling out of breath, Jeongguk ends his speech a little abruptly. Taehyung and Jimin are staring at him with weird expressions, and he’s pretty sure a gaggle of customers has stopped to listen, too. Good God, was I speaking too loud?
“What?” he asks nervously when Taehyung and Jimin stay silent. “It’s just facts. That’s the kind of person you deserve,” he adds, pointing at Taehyung. “None of these people.” He waves a hand at Taehyung’s phone disdainfully. “None of them fit all those requirements. It’s a lost cause.”
A few more, torturously silent seconds later, Jimin smirks. “High standards, huh?”
“Um, just my thoughts,” Jeongguk mumbles. “Of course, you’re free to pick whichever one of them you like,” he tells Taehyung, a deep-seated embarrassment pooling in his stomach at his presumptuous and copious amounts of swiping left. “I’m deeply sorry for choosing on your behalf.” He winces, bowing deeply in his direction.
Taehyung clears his throat. “Uh, it’s okay. I agreed with your judgement. Would’ve stopped you if I hadn’t.”
Despite the reassurance, Jeongguk’s prickly embarrassment continues to coil in his stomach, now joined by a dull misery. He bows again and slips out from behind the counter, leaving Taehyung and Jimin exchanging silent glances.
🛒
Jeongguk hangs up his uniform vest, takes his things out of his locker, puts on his big, puffy coat and trudges out to the parking lot at twelve thirty-six a.m., feeling exhausted. He hadn’t seen Taehyung again, after his highly unnecessary spiel about who he should date. Jeongguk had smacked himself on the head for that, both literally and metaphorically, certain that he'd overstepped boundaries, even if Taehyung had been too polite to tell him so.
Now, in the gloomy dark of the deserted parking lot, he makes his way towards his car, trying to remember if he has any ice cream left in the freezer. He craves the cool, sweet brain-freeze, and maybe, if he goes into a sugar coma, he won't need to go to work and see Taehyung again. Maybe he can quit his job, actually, or put in for a transfer to another branch. Maybe —
“Jeonggukie,” a voice calls out softly.
Startled, Jeongguk turns around. His heart thumps loudly and his eyes widen — he had dawdled over the last of his tasks with the sole purpose of avoiding such a situation, and yet, the situation had other plans, he guesses.
“You're still here?” he asks quietly, taking a step towards Taehyung, who is sitting in his car with the door open. He stretches his legs, tucks his body towards his knees and then straightens, getting up with his hands in the pockets of his oversized hoodie.
“Mhm,” he hums, shuffling a few steps closer. “Let's go get some ice lollies.”
“Huh?” Jeongguk blinks at him. Ice lollies? He peers at Taehyung closely, seriously considering the likelihood that he’s a mind-reader. “It's past midnight, hyung.”
“Are you sleepy?”
“Not really.”
“Then let's go get some lollies.”
“But there are lollies in the store…” Jeongguk points out, feeling confused.
“But the store is closed, isn't it? Come on,” Taehyung pouts. “There's a 24/7 place just down the street.”
“Okay.” Jeongguk gives in, still a little puzzled. He hasn’t ruled out the whole ‘mind-reader’ possibility either.
He follows Taehyung out of the parking lot and they start walking, falling into step easily. They reach the store within minutes, and Taehyung asks him what flavour he wants. Jeongguk picks cherry-cola. Taehyung gets mango. They sit on the bench outside and peel the wrappers off the lollies. Jeongguk folds them into little squares and tucks them into his pocket to throw away later.
There are a few beats of silence, then: “So, what did you get up to? I didn't see you after you scurried off.”
“Oh, um,” Jeongguk rubs the back of his neck. Takes another lick of his lolly. He oscillates — should I be honest? Or is it better to make up a story so that he doesn't see how pathetic I am?
Taehyung's eyes are soft under his unruly bangs, though, and Jeongguk has never kept a secret from him. He swallows. “Yeah, I, uh, laid on the warehouse floor for a while and then Hobi-hyung found me and then he shook a bag of paper confetti over me from the top shelf while I contemplated stuff. Bit dramatic, but it's Hobi-hyung so, uh, what could I expect?” He laughs nervously.
“Wow. Not gonna lie, that sounds kinda fun.” Taehyung bites back a giggle. It makes Jeongguk's anxiety dissolve and his heart feel lighter. He smiles too, chasing the easy happiness they both seem to share when they're together.
“In the moment, yeah,” he admits, momentarily distracted by the drip of his lolly down the side of his hand. He licks it off and continues, “But then hyung left and I had to clean up all the confetti? So yeah,” Jeongguk trails off. “Um, by the way, I am so sorry, once again. Definitely did not mean to commandeer the whole, uh, dating app operation.”
Taehyung smiles, sweet and genuine. “It's no big deal.”
This time, Jeongguk finds it easier to believe it. He lets the relief wash over him and settle in. Taehyung isn't upset. It's all good.
“Your mouth is purple.”
“Oh, shit.” Jeongguk sticks out his tongue and tries to look at it, going a little cross-eyed in the process.
Taehyung laughs and playfully smacks him on the shoulder. “That’s not gonna work, silly. It'll go away when you brush your teeth, don't worry.”
They finish their lollies but Taehyung keeps sitting there, twirling the wooden stick between his fingers. Jeongguk swings his legs, content to sit next to him.
“So, what were you contemplating?”
“Huh?”
Taehyung looks down at his shoes. “You know, like when you said you were contemplating things while Hobi-hyung was being dramatic.” He pauses. Rubs his nose. “What things?”
“Um, just life, I think.” Jeongguk looks at Taehyung, the word caught just behind his teeth. “You.”
Taehyung doesn’t look too surprised. “Me?” His voice is small when he asks.
“Uh huh.”
“What about me?”
Jeongguk hesitates. Under the dim glow of the neon store sign, the words are a little easier to say than in a well-lit break room with people dawdling around.
“Um, you know,” he murmurs, “How we used to kiss sometimes. I don't know if it ever meant anything to you or if it really was just a joke…”
“Oh, Jeonggukie.” Taehyung winces. “I'm sorry I called it a joke. I was nervous and a little upset that day, when the district manager caught us. I didn't want Jiyoung to think it was a big deal, didn't want to get us in too much trouble.”
“Mmm. So it wasn't a joke?”
“Not at all.” Taehyung shakes his head vigorously.
Jeongguk nods, tucking his hands between his thighs. “So, what was it then?”
“I didn't realize it at first myself.” Taehyung swallows visibly. “I'm sorry about all the confusion. The kissing was fun. Sweet. I liked it a lot, but I think I kind of took it for granted. Didn't really have the courage to examine my feelings, so I just went along with what was easiest. I kept thinking you would probably say something if you felt anything for me —”
“— that's what I was thinking,” Jeongguk interrupts.
“Amazing.” Taehyung shakes his head. “Uh, it was still very shitty of me to keep initiating the kisses. I'm really sorry.”
“Well, I did consent,,” Jeongguk points out. “You asked me each time.”
“Mhm, still. We should've talked about it properly, much much earlier.”
Jeongguk sighs. “Better late than never?”
“Yeah.”
They sit in silence for a while, looking out at the city. The store is built on slightly higher ground, sloping away towards the city centre. From their vantage point, they can see the lights blinking off sleepily as people slip off to bed.
“So, why today? Is it because of the whole dating app thing?”
“Kind of,” Taehyung says slowly. “I was never going to seriously use it, but then you started talking about the person I deserve and I just,” he pauses, looking at Jeongguk with an almost painful longing. “I just kept thinking, ‘but that's you!’ You're that person. You do all of those things for me.”
“Oh.” Jeongguk can feel his cheeks growing pink.
Taehyung laughs nervously. “I've been really dumb.”
“No, I think we’ve both been dumb,” Jeongguk decides, smiling.
“Okay, agreed.” Taehyung links an arm through Jeongguk's and takes his hand in his, lacing their fingers together.
Jeongguk inhales sharply — the sudden proximity, the press of their shoulders, the firm muscle of Taehyung’s thigh against his — it’s a little overwhelming.
“This is okay, right?” Taehyung asks apprehensively.
Jeongguk hums, pretending to frown. “Let me think about that.”
Taehyung bursts into a peal of giggles, his whole body shaking. “Don't tease!”
“It's so fun, though.”
They fall quiet again. A soft feeling curls around Jeongguk’s heart and snakes between his ribs, all-consuming and fiery. He squeezes Taehyung’s hand and turns to look at him, unable to keep his smile from breaking out.
“Hey, hyung. My mouth is frozen from the lolly.”
Taehyung raises an eyebrow. “Okay, and?”
Jeongguk pouts. “Maybe if you kissed it, it would warm up.”
“Is that how it's going to be, hm?”
“I'm just stating facts.” Jeongguk shrugs. “Body heat and skin contact and all of that good science.”
“No harm in trying it out, I guess.” Taehyung tries his best to keep a straight face, but he can’t keep his mouth from quirking up in a smile when Jeongguk snuggles closer.
“Score,” Jeongguk murmurs, smiling as Taehyung leans in and kisses him — they're both grinning too wide for it to work, but then Taehyung growls lowly in the back of his throat and twists his body, pinning Jeongguk to the bench.
Jeongguk gasps, his fingers twisting in Taehyung’s shirt collar and pulling him closer.
“Be mine,” Taehyung pushes the words into Jeongguk’s mouth — soft but demanding — ending with teeth at his bottom lip, nipping lightly.
“Yours,” Jeongguk stutters, his heartbeat quickening when Taehyung presses his nose along his jaw and up to his ear, pressing tiny kisses in its wake.
Over his shoulder, the city lights twinkle brightly and Jeongguk pulls Taehyung into another kiss — this time, it’s not an accident, a silly dare, a cliche, an experiment, or a joke.
It’s just two people, in love.
Always yours, Jeongguk sighs happily, melting into Taehyung’s arms.