Chapter Text
Sua was solely, entirely to blame for Bin’s demise. If it were not for her, Bin never would have found himself standing underneath mistletoe with his arm wrapped around Dongmin, hovering over his face with mere inches between them.
If it weren’t for Sua and her meddling, Bin never would have had to look down at Dongmin’s long, beautiful eyelashes, or his cheeks flushed with warmth and wine and no doubt embarrassment at the situation, or his perfect pink lips. Bin never would have had to feel his heart pound in his ears, desperately wanting to bend down and kiss Dongmin. Nope, this was definitely, without a doubt, because of Sua.
“What do you mean, you have plans?” Sua said, many months prior to when Bin would eventually be caught under the mistletoe with the most beautiful man in the world.
“I mean, I have plans,” Bin said, thumbing the speakerphone button so that he could dig through his bag to search for his keys.
Sua’s voice was sour. “Drinking with Minhyuk does not count as plans.” The tinny phone speaker made her voice reverberate down the hall, sounding even more displeased than usual.
“Standing plans definitely count as plans,” Bin said, straightening up with his key ring in hand and not bothering to take Sua off of speakerphone. “Besides, those aren’t even the plans for the evening.” His plans most definitely were his and Minhyuk’s standing chicken and beer night, but Bin knew that wouldn’t get him out of babysitting in this instance.
“What are the plans then?” Sua asked. In the background, Bin could hear the sound of children’s cartoons and Sua’s toddler daughter, Sumin, shrieking along with it.
Leaning against the door to his apartment, Bin grappled for an excuse decent enough to get out of babysitting. He adored his niece, but after a long day at work that capped off a long, rough week, he didn’t think he could survive several hours of princesses and makeup and putting on a happy face. Thankfully, as Bin’s mind seemed to putter out, the door of the next apartment down swung open, and Bin’s gorgeous neighbor stepped outside.
God. He even looked good in slippers and carrying a sack of trash.
“I have a date,” Bin spit out, surprising both his neighbor and his sister.
Sua, for one, was shocked into silence. Bin’s neighbor, whom he knew to be named Lee Dongmin, raised his eyebrows. Bin made some kind of gesture at his phone, trying to convey the message of “I don’t actually have a date I’m just struggling here” with a look.
Dongmin seemed to understand it though, and nodded with an amused smile as Sua’s voice finally came back to life over the line. “Well finally,” she said. “I hope it goes well enough that you can bring him home for Christmas later.”
“We’ll see,” Bin said. Dongmin was still hovering in the hallway, seeming amused by the conversation happening on the phone. “I hope you find someone to mind Sumin.”
“Chanhyuk better hope so too,” Sua said, speaking darkly of her boss at the event planning company she worked for. “Springing this dinner on me last minute. I swear to god, I’m going to skin that man and hang him out to dry. Have fun on your date, Binnie. I’ll talk to you later.”
“That’s oppa to you,” Bin tried to say, but Sua had already hung up. With a sigh, he tucked his phone away and finally went to put his keys in the door.
“You know, bad things happen to people that lie to escape babysitting,” Lee Dongmin said, shuffling past with his trash bag.
“After this week from hell, I’d like to see what the universe has left,” Bin said cheerfully, twisting the door open and smiling at his neighbor.
Dongmin laughed, and they bid a quick goodbye as Dongmin continued towards the stairs and Bin gratefully let himself into his apartment. As he collapsed against the door, now closed, he let himself slide down to the floor and sit there for a few minutes. Retail typically sucked ass, but being a manager and dealing with the highest return volume in the history of his store, a lack of traffic that led to low sales, and multiple delayed shipments, made it more of a fifth circle of hell.
If only he really did have a date to look forward to that night.
Being a retail manager had never been part of Bin’s life plan. During the winter of his senior year of college, he was hired as a seasonal worker at an all-natural bath products store called Origin. After the seasonal contract had ended, he’d been re-hired as a year-round part timer while he finished up his anthropology degree. After graduation, he went full time, and five years later he found himself sitting in the seat of store manager. It wasn’t glamorous or luxurious, but the pay got him a one bedroom apartment in Seoul without a roommate and an insane employee discount that practically guaranteed he’d have bath bombs and good skin care for life.
So despite not being the anthropologist he’d planned on, Bin was happy. He had great friends, good staff, a roof over his head, and an adorable niece that (most days) he loved watching. His mother and Sua were both of the opinion that he needed to find someone to share all that with, but Bin figured he was doing well enough that when the right person came along, it would fall into place easily.
Briefly, his thoughts strayed to his beautiful neighbor.
Lee Dongmin. a beauty, a kind soul, who had moved in a year ago and introduced himself with a container of homemade kimchi and a smile. He was everything a person wanted in a next door neighbor: friendly and quiet, without being nosy or terrifyingly silent.
A buzz from his cell interrupted Bin’s musing on what Dongmin must do for a living. A text from Minhyuk lit up his screen as Bin finally picked both his phone and himself up off the floor of his entryway, toeing off his shoes as he tapped out a reply confirming that he already had beer, all Minhyuk needed to do was bring the chicken.
Bin quickly forgot about the skipped babysitting duty. Life, as always, continued, and as the holidays approached his store got busier than ever. They doubled the staff with seasonal employees in order to keep up with the rising traffic. Having new staff was always a bit tricky - things fell through the cracks as people struggled to learn the ropes and the year-round employees suddenly found themselves having to direct new people. It had lead to lots of broken bath bombs, misplaced stock, and now, on this particular day, Bin’s keys being locked in his apartment.
Which was why he was sitting on the floor in the hallway, back up against his front door, feeling even more drained than he had when he left the shop. Pest control always came on the second Tuesday of the month, how could he forget that? As if to mock him, the door on the other side of the hallway still had the reminder slip that management put out every month taped to it.
With a great sigh, Bin lifted his phone. Still no reply from Minhyuk - god knows when he’d leave the dance studio. Groaning, Bin let his head fall back against the door with a clunk.
The sound of the elevator opening echoed down the hall, followed by footsteps coming in his direction. It took all of Bin’s willpower not to groan aloud again. Of all the times for his gorgeous neighbor to find him.
“You alright there?” Dongmin’s voice was smoother than silk.
Bin slowly looked over. Dongmin was hovering outside his door, dressed impeccably in a camel colored coat with a thick blue scarf. A leather messenger bag hung off his shoulder, and Bin could only dream of looking so put together.
With a shrug, he jerked a hand towards his door. “Forgot my keys this morning. Pest control locked them in.”
Dongmin hissed in sympathy. “Is someone coming to let you in?”
After explaining that he was waiting for his friend to bring over the spare key, Dongmin nodded again. At that point, Bin expected him to wish him luck and head into his apartment. They had officially fulfilled all the friendly neighbor requirements. Instead, though, Dongmin surprised him.
“Do you wanna come inside mine and wait? This hallway is always freezing.”
For a moment, Bin’s heart seemed to leap into his throat. He was caught for a second, mouth working to try and get out some words, any words Moon Bin oh my god, before he finally stuttered, “Are you sure?”
Dongmin smiled, eyes crinkling, and Bin’s heart skipped another beat. “I mean, in the past year I’m pretty sure I haven’t heard you murder anyone through the wall. I figure I can extend friendly hospitality with relative safety.”
Bin laughed as he hauled himself up off the ground, grabbing his canvas tote as he went. Dongmin smiled and turned to unlock his door, and Bin couldn’t help but feel a little bit like a messy college students next to him, rather than a successful retail manager of five years. As he followed Dongmin into his apartment, the feeling compounded.
It wasn’t that Bin didn’t have taste - the dress code at Origin was casual all black, which meant his wardrobe was mostly made up of that color. He had no need for fancy clothes beyond two pairs of dry-clean only pants and a blazer. And his apartment was, in his opinion, pretty nice. He had a couch and a desk, and a bedspread rather than just sheets on a mattress. He even had carefully arranged nick nacks on the built in bookshelf in the living room.
But his apartment could never stand up next to his neighbor’s - it was obvious, as he toed off his shoes and tried to pretend he wasn’t staring, that Dongmin had style.
“Do you drink coffee?” Dongmin asked, after hanging his bag on a hook (an actual hook, screwed into the wall, not just a Command hook like Bin had for his keys).
“Yeah,” Bin said, shuffling after Dongmin and trying not to be super obvious with his staring.
Like Bin’s, the entry of the apartment led straight into the kitchen, but Dongmin waved him through to the living room. Everything was coordinated, and had an obvious air of careful selection. The apartment itself was a mirror image to Bin’s, but somehow Dongmin seemed to have doubled the space in size with careful furniture arrangements, well placed rugs, and light colors. “This place is so nice,” Bin said aloud, stepping closer to the framed artwork of the night sky hanging over the couch.
“I would hope so,” Dongmin said, laughing lightly over the gurgling of the coffee maker. “I’m an interior designer at a firm downtown.”
Bin looked up at him with a pained expression, making Dongmin laugh louder. “You can never step foot next door,” he said sincerely.
Dongmin’s eyes sparkled as he pulled two coffee cups and honest-to-god saucers out of a cabinet, placing them on the peninsula extension of the counter that separated the kitchen and living room. Bin shuffled over as Dongmin poured coffee, feeling like even more of a piss-poor home furnisher as he settled into an actual bar chair of appropriate height to the counter, rather than the wobbly wooden stools he’d stolen out of his parents’ garage.
They chatted easily over coffee, covering topics from family (Dongmin asked about who had been on the phone in the hall all those weeks ago), work (they commiserate over the holidays and the people they drew in), and shared interests. The clock neared seven, Minhyuk still hadn’t returned his text, and Dongmin asked if, since they were on the topic of music, Bin was interested in watching the music shows.
Just like that, Bin found himself on Dongmin’s (extremely nice) couch, bopping his head to the music that played in his shop all day long.
After several stages, in the middle of the fifth or sixth boy group performance, Dongmin sighed. “How do they get their skin that clear?” he said, shaking the remote at the screen. “I’m twenty-seven and still get breakouts. I need whatever these kids are using.”
Bin squinted at the member in particular that Dongmin was pointing the remote at. “Ah. Not what that one does,” he said automatically.
Dongmin’s remote-brandishing stopped, and head turning to look at Bin. “Huh?”
Bin shrugged, trying to pretend that the fact that he had done skincare consultations on most of the members in that particular group wasn’t a big deal. “That one - Jinsoo, I think? I’m not sure, I’ve only met him once - he’s got really oily skin, super overactive. He uses a really intense regimen, it would dry most people out.”
If Dongmin’s shocked face was anything to go by, Bin guessed that knowing the skincare needs of an idol was not high on the list of conversation topics that he’d anticipated coming up. “This is all on like, the super down low,” Bin added, almost wishing he could backtrack. Surely it looked like a bit of a peacock move - look at me, I know idols!
By some grace of god, though, Dongmin didn’t seem put off by it. “How on earth do you know what these kids use?” Dongmin asked, leaning an elbow on the back of the couch and turning more fully to face Bin.
Smiling, Bin gestured to his phone. “Minhyuk, the friend I’m waiting on - he choreographs for idol groups. The poor kid was miserable - all that dancing and work, on top of naturally oily skin. Minhyuk recommended Origin to him and gave my name. It was all very hush hush - had an after-hours consultation, and now his manager drops buy to get his refills. A couple of the other members use our stuff. A lot of the girl groups, too.”
Exhaling, Dongmin leaned back. “Wild,” he breathed. “I didn’t know I was sitting next to a skincare guru, trusted by all the idols.”
Bin laughed. “More the products than me,” he said, trying to tamp down the pride swelling in his chest. Moments like this - when he got to let other people know how great the stuff from Origin was - reminded him of how he got sucked into the job.
Dongmin’s smile, though, was enough to distract him. “Maybe I should drop by for a consult, since they come so highly recommended.” His voice was flirty, body language open and relaxed as his shoulders tilted towards Bin.
Bin felt the back of his neck heating up, and nervous laughter bubbled up out of his chest. “Yeah, uh, yeah,” he said lamely, shifting a bit and reaching up to rub the hot skin of his nape. “That would - we could hook you up!” he said, cringing internally.
Thankfully for him, Dongmin seemed relatively unbothered. He continued smiling, shifting back so that he was less in Bin’s space and directing his attention back to the television. “Oh, this is one of my favorites!” he said brightly as I.U. took the stage.
Bin agreed, sinking into the couch and wishing that the floor of the twelfth story would open up and just let him fall down to the bottom, never to be seen or heard from again. Obviously, he couldn’t be trusted around anyone he was remotely interested in. God, no wonder he hadn’t had a date in ages.
As I.U. bopped around the stage, Bin’s phone finally, finally chirped, letting him know that Minhyuk was waiting outside his building, please come let him in because it was “fuxkign cold”. Ten minutes later he was back inside his own poorly decorated apartment, opening a beer for Minhyuk and complaining about what an idiot he made of himself.
“I mean, you did that all the time in college. It’s a wonder you had half as many dates as you did,” Minhyuk said, accepting the bottle and downing a large swig.
Bin frowned and flicked the bottle cap at his head.
In all honesty, it was a wonder that Bin had managed not to see Sua in the time between his escaped babysitting and the beginning of December. For that reason alone, he didn’t even try to argue when his little sister texted him, insisting that they meet up for lunch that week to “catch up.” Bin knew this to actually mean coordinating Christmas shopping, prompting him to bring a notebook and pen with him.
When he arrived to the cafe, Sua was nowhere to be seen, so Bin grabbed a large table and busied himself on his phone while waiting. He was midway down the Instagram page of the design firm Dongmin mentioned working for when the bell over the door rang, and a high-pitched cry of “Uncle Bin!” alerted him to his sister’s arrival.
Looking up, Bin caught Sua leaning down to place Sumin on the ground, letter her toddle over to him. “Suminnie!” he called, kneeling to scoop her up. Sumin immediately started placing wet (and slightly sticky) kisses on his cheeks, which he returned with enthusiasm.
“You’re gonna want to wash your face,” Sua said, leaning a hand against one of the chairs at the table Bin had commandeered and resting the other on her pregnant belly. “She had applesauce in the car.”
That explained the stickiness, at any rate. “That’s okay,” Bin said, smiling widely and mostly addressing Sumin. “Apple juice is in Babyface wash, it can be good for the skin. Right, Suminnie?” he said, as if she knew anything about skincare.
Nonetheless, the two year old chirped a bright, “Yes!”
Sua rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself. “I’m going to go get a coffee. Watch her for a moment.”
“Coffee?” Bin asked, eyes flicking down to her stomach. “Decaf, right?”
The glare Sua sent him was positively withering. “I said what I said,” she snapped, turning on her heel and stalking towards the counter with all the rage a pregnant woman could invoke.
Bin looked towards his niece, finding his own surely bemused expression mirrored. “Your mama is a piece of work,” he told her, and Sumin hummed. It sounded a bit like the theme to her favorite cartoon, but Bin took it as a sign of agreement as he settled into his original chair.
Upon her return, Sua set her coffee down with a bit more force than a cardboard cup warranted. “The boy behind the counter tried to give me decaf,” she said, lowering herself into the chair opposite Bin with a bit more gentleness. “I can have small doses of caffeine. It’s not going to hurt the baby.”
“It’s great to see you too, Sua,” Bin said, shifting Sumin to his other leg and bouncing her gently while reaching for his bag to get his notebook. “Hold on, Uncle’s getting yours,” he said, when Sumin immediately made a grab for his pen.
Sua sighed, her voice turning softer for the first time as Bin pulled out the coloring book and crayons he’d picked up on his way to the cafe that morning. “You’re so good with her,” she said. “Maybe you could keep her when this one comes, instead of trying to get her to Mom and Dad’s?” she asked, patting the top of her belly.
“I’ll see if I can arrange that,” Bin said. “But let’s get the boring part over with. Has Mom mentioned anything to you that she wants?”
They spent the next hour hashing out present plans, from parents to cousins to aunties and uncles that were all supposedly coming to the Moon house for Christmas. By the end of it, Bin had an obnoxiously long list of gifts to pick up from Origin, Sua had an Amazon list that would require a shipping box the size of his apartment, and Sumin had only colored on one thing that wasn’t the coloring book. As he made final checks, Sua waddled to the bathroom, complaining about her bladder for the umpteenth time that afternoon.
A handful of minutes later, she returned. “By the way,” she said. “How did that date go last month? Should I be getting a gift for a special someone?”
For a moment, Bin was left in utter confusion. He hadn’t had a date in months -
“I hope you’ve noticed that I’ve conveniently not asked you to babysit on Friday nights since you skipped out on us,” Sumin said primly, reaching across the table and pushing Sumin’s headband back into place.
Oh. “Yeah, uh, thanks for that.” Well, now he couldn’t just back out and say it was a lie. “The date was fine. We got dinner. It was - it was good,” Bin said, praying that this would be enough to assuage Sua’s curiosity.
Unfortunately, this only seemed to encourage her. Sua smiled at him from behind her coffee. “And have there been any more dates? I don’t want to be depriving you of your niece,” she cooed, reaching across the table and cupping Sumin’s face.
Panicked, Bin blurted, “Yep, yes, we’ve gone out a couple of times. It’s nice. No, not on Binnie’s notebook,” he said, scooting Sumin back on his knee and out of reach of his paper.
Sua seemed delighted. “Multiple dates!” she exclaimed, grabbing her pen once more. “Yes, they’re definitely getting a gift. Anyone that can put up with you for that much deserves some kind of reward.”
“Mean,” Bin mumbled, but Sua clicked her pen and spoke over him.
“Okay, name? Age? Male or female? Likes and dislikes? What’s their favorite color?”
Bin blinked. “Uh,” he said. Sumin stuck out a grubby hand and grabbed at his notebook, which he dutifully pushed out of her reach. Only one name and face was coming to his mind. “I don’t - I don’t know?”
Sua shot him a withering look. Bin felt his world slowly fall apart as Sumin managed to get a hold on the corner of his notebook, dragging it across the table and smearing her orange crayon across the page.
An hour later, Bin knocked anxiously on the door. A few seconds later, Lee Dongmin opened it, dressed impeccable and looking every bit as beautiful as Bin had pictured when Sua asked him who the dates had been with.
“Hi Bin,” Dongmin said, smiling pleasantly and leaning against the door jam.
“Hi,” Bin replied. “Can I ask you a favor?”