Chapter Text
They’ve been following him for a while now.
At several points, Jungkook has to stop and wonder if they truly believe they’re being stealthy or if this is all part of some big joke no one wants to let him in on.
Whatever it is, all he knows is that every time he so much as turns to the side, one of the two boys forward dives behind the closest available surface while his friend immediately pretends to examine any product in his vicinity. Usually Jungkook would just march right over there and demand they leave him alone, but the thing is they only ever do this while he’s at work and if his boss catches him so much as raising his voice at a customer then he can kiss his meager 9,000 won an hour goodbye. And that 9,000 won is the only thing keeping him off the backstreets of Busan or a hell of a lot worse if he doesn’t manage his monthly debt installments.
So really Jungkook has no choice but to pretend he doesn’t have the faintest clue that he’s been not so covertly stalked for the past two weeks.
Well, it's not like it’s exactly all that bad either.
He would be lying if he said he didn’t notice how insanely pretty the boys were. It’s like looking straight at two Greek gods except they’re not Greek and technically not gods. It took about five days before he realized that second fact.
The first time he saw them he swore he was hallucinating. It was right after his “lunch break” (he couldn’t actually afford to eat anything if he wanted his food supply to last until his next paycheck so really he just sipped on some stale-tasting water and took the time as an opportunity to curse every Jeon before him). Not that it truly mattered what he did during this time seeing as though his boss doesn’t like them taking breaks, to begin with, so all employees only get about 5 minutes max before said store owner starts innocuously docking their already minuscule pay.
That afternoon he was just finishing cycle two on the mental list of Jeons he hoped were rolling backward in their grave when he rounded the corner on the alleyway where he usually took his breaks and walked (slammed more likely) straight into the brick wall, landing flat on his ass.
Except that brick wall was less of a wall and more of a person that looked incredibly pissed.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“Tae, are you okay?” The guy on his right worryingly asked, as though it was his friend and not Jungkook on the ground with a bruised hip.
“Oh yeah perfect, now that my shoulder hurts and my coffee is on the floor.”
Maybe it was the realization that he was in fact sitting in a pool of hot liquid slowly soaking into his uniform or the fact that he never knew voices could go that deep that a small shudder ran through him.
“I’m so sorry sir, I wasn’t looking” Jungkook finally managed to utter, eyes fixed firmly on the ground, silently cursing his stutter for always becoming that much more pronounced the second he got even a little nervous.
“Waaah, did you hear that Jiminie? He wasn’t looking! And here I thought he ran into me because he just loved knocking people’s drinks out of their hands.”
The other guy (Jimin?) scoffed like he was rolling his eyes.
“Tae-tae you don’t even like coffee.”
“So? It’s the principle behind it. Now I can’t have the satisfaction of spitting up this abominable liquid myself all because of this idiot.” Tae-tae or Tae or whatever spat.
“Relax, you’ll make the kid cry.”
“Whose side are you on?”
“Anyone but yours.” Jimin replied without hesitation but there was an incredibly fond note to his voice.
Jungkook was willing to bet he had a similarly fond expression on his face but it was kind of hard to see anything what with the whole frozen in fear thing.
Suddenly, one of the prettiest hands Jungkook has ever seen entered his vision. All short and delicate fingers adorned in expensive-looking rings contrasting with the roughness of visible calluses on the palm (vaguely Jungkook thinks of a dancer or weight lifter).
“Cmon, do you really wanna sit in coffee all day?” Jimin speaks with a soft tone like the one you’d use on a small animal you don’t want to scare off.
“It would be an improvement to that uniform” Tae mutters.
“Oh hush.”
Despite the bickering, Jungkook accepts the proffered hand and is pulled to his feet surprisingly easy for someone with his build, only to be smack dab in front of the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. The type of plump lips people pay thousands of dollars for on flawless skin and a jawline even sharper than Seokjin hyungs (not that he would ever say that out loud unless he wanted to sit through the inevitable yell-rap thing his hyung does every time someone implies he’s anything less than gods gift to humanity).
Something about that perfectly straight nose bridge and hypnotically slanted monolids makes him think Adonis would be put to shame so he decides right then and there that he’s dreaming and absolutely not holding hands with the genetic epitome of beauty.
What’s weird is that instead of immediately dropping his hand as Jungkook expects him to, Jimin is just gazing at his face with this weird, transfixed expression.
Feeling his ears start to burn at the attention, Jungkook quickly turns toward his friend with the empty cup instead.
“I really am sorry. I can buy you another coffee for uhm… aesthetic if you want.”
After the whole irritated exchange from earlier, he was anticipating one of those super buff, more muscle mass than brain mass type gorillas that flocked to the bougie upper-class stores he usually worked at.
But as Jungkook locked eyes with the slender boy with long wavy black hair he came to the heart-stopping realization that if Jimin could put Adonis to shame then his friend would make Narcissus forget all about a little reflection in the water. Ethereal doesn’t even begin to cover what the model bone structure and intensely mesmerizing gaze is.
Distantly, Jungkook can't help but wonder how his luck is so unfortunate that he managed to bump into what is undoubtedly the world's two most handsome men all while in the paragon of unflattering uniforms and covered in convenience store dark roast.
It's for this exact reason that as he nervously ducks his head down- lip pulled between his front teeth- he misses the fact that Taehyung isn’t annoyedly glaring like he thought but gazing at Jungkook with an equally stunned expression.
“I think I would rather take you to coffee instead.”
Okay so maybe he had actually hit his head on the way down.
“I’m sorry could you repeat that?”
“I said if you want to make it up to me, then maybe you should buy me a coffee,” Taehyung repeats a bit more aggressively than intended.
Now that made a lot more sense.
Because for a second there it sounded like the Gucci-esque model in front of him had been asking him out and not just demanding a refund for the drink he spilled.
“I don't have much on me right now,” Jungkook replied pulling out the somewhat wet wad of notes he’d been saving up for a last-minute emergency like medication. “This should get you at least a medium from across the street.”
“Oh no, we don’t want your money sweetheart.” Jimin shook his head breaking out of that intense stare he’d been doing.
“Would-would you prefer a check?” Jungkook questions uncertainly, still holding the wet money.
“No, I meant come to the coffee shop with us” The taller boy interjected.
“Look I get that I spilled your drink but isn’t it a bit much to force me to walk you to the store and personally buy you the coffee”
After all, Jungkook was the one who got knocked to the floor and would have to face his undoubtedly furious boss to tell him that he had to go home and change in the middle of a ten-hour shift.
Jungkook pushed the crumpled bills into the hand Jimin was still clutching, trying to ignore the immediate loss of warmth and the crestfallen look on his face.
“Here. That should be more than enough.”
“Please hold on a second, I really think you're misunderstanding-” Tae started to say.
“I’m understanding perfectly, thank you.” Jungkook interrupted, not at all interested in hearing them try to harass him into buying drinks. “I’m done with this conversation so if you’ll excuse me I have to get back to work.”
Jungkook didn’t bother hanging around to hear what they had to say next.
He can’t believe he had actually almost been attracted to those two only for them to end up just as snobby and pretentious as everyone else in this neighborhood. But really what did he expect to happen considering the only time someone that pretty and well-dressed had talked to him was to demand that he not scratch the convertible when parking.
And he wasn’t even a valet! Some chaeboljib maknaeadeul had just tossed him the keys, assuming the only reason someone who looked like him would be hanging around a Yongsan complex is as an attendant. Mentally, he tries to ignore the fact that the real reason he has to head to the fourth floor of a Lotte Hotel suite once a month is a lot worse than just being a rich kids bus boy.
The back door resolutely shuts behind him cutting off pleads for him to wait and leaving the two boys forlornly outside.
“Nice, Taehyung, we run into the most beautiful thing in Korea and you scare him off with coffee euphemisms,” Jimin exclaims exasperated.
“All I did was ask him out!”
“Yeah, right after you yelled at him about your stupid coffee for five minutes! He probably thought we were shaking him down.”
“I wouldn’t of yelled at him if I saw his face first.” Taehyung pouted.
Rationally, Jimin knew he should probably scold him for that temper he always warns him about but whenever his soulmate gets that sad look on his face, it’s exactly like trying to reprimand a kicked puppy. Impossible.
“Love, you can’t just decide to yell at people based on how aesthetically pleasing they are, we talked about it this.” he gently reminded.
“I guess so but I really was trying to make it up to him.”
“I know Tae-tae,” Jimin replied, eyeing the recently slammed door. “Unfortunately, something tells me, he's not gonna wanna talk to us anytime soon”
“Well my dear Chimmy, it’s not exactly like he can run off while he’s at work,” Taehyung responds, fixated on the door with that same look he gets when he’s found a new art subject he’s determined to recreate.
“...Please don’t tell me you're proposing what I think you are.”
“Sure. Then just tell me you never want to look into those stuck in headlights, Bambi eyes ever again.”
Jimin was already headed to the front door.
And that's how it started.
Every day since then, Taehyung and Jimin would pop into his work and follow him around for a few hours then vanish right before he clocked out. He had no idea how exactly they always seemed to know his schedule or why they never spoke to him, just that they always showed up without fail.
If anyone ever asked, Jungkook would never admit it, but he was actually starting to rely on those ever-present flashes of clothes at the corner of his vision.
By week one, he knew that if he caught a glimpse of a colorful tie or oversized button-up it was Tae trailing behind him but if he saw jeans so tight they looked plastered on or heard the distinct clack of Chelsea boots it would be Jimin.
By week two, he could recognize that Tae had an affinity for Gucci and preferred to act like he was dramatically script reading ingredients whenever Jungkook happened to turn in his direction, while Jimin would almost always be dripped in Chanel and tended to strike up enthusiastic conversations with random customers as a diversion. Customers who regardless of gender would immediately gush and giggle, absolutely giddy at the sudden attention of the beautiful man-never mind the fact that they were complete strangers (Jungkook mentally began to refer to this phenomena as the Jimin effect).
By day 17, he began to realize that when his manager crawled out from the office where he usually napped through the day to put him on stocking duty as revenge for the uniform incident, If he was struggling to haul the overloaded cart around the store and happened to abandon it somewhere to track down a particularly obscure product shelf, by the time he returned, the cart would be empty and the perpetual sound footfalls behind him would be accompanied by slightly out of breath-panting.
Jungkook for the life of him couldn’t understand why two men who looked like they’d been spoon-fed nothing but caviar and premium beef since the day they were born would willingly run around an affluent grocery store to minimize his workload.
By day 18, he decided there was no way he was getting to day 19 without finding out.
As soon as the afternoon hit and he caught a glimpse of a trademark luxury tie and Chanel sweater confidently striding past the store entrance, he immediately ran up to his best (arguably only) friend Yugyeom who had been grappling with a particularly full stocking cart for a good half hour now.
“Yugyeom, listen I need you to give me that cart.”
“Oh did you finally decide you were tired of watching me have an asthma attack and actually help out?” Yugyeom panted.
Or at least that's what Jungkook thinks he said. It was kind of hard to understand him with the whole bright-red, breathing like he just ran two marathons, and then climbed a mountain for the fun of it look.
“You live off nothing but chocolate milk and candy bars, I figured the sugar rush would power you through the pain.” Jungkook retorted.
“Kook, I could wrap a hand around your waist and my fingertips would touch- you’re the last person to be giving diet advice, don't you think?”
Now usually, Jungkook would respond by making fun of his friend with some quip about being a solid six feet tall and terrified of the shallow-end of the pool which would result in him being headlocked by a furious Yugyeom until they inevitably broke into giggles or were reprimanded by one of their other coworkers, but he figured he only had about five minutes before Thing 1 and Thing 2 started tracking him down and if this plan was going to work he needed that cart now.
“Hand it over without asking any questions and I’ll collect the carriages for the next two weeks.”
Yugyeom almost fell over in the rush to get his hands off the too-full cart.
Absolutely no one liked collecting the carriages. You had to walk around in the humid, 36 ℃ heat with a 100% cotton Yongsan Commissary uniform sticking to your skin, all while buja gajeong that made more money in one afternoon than you could earn in an entire lifetime would accuse you of scratching one of their likely six cars for entertainment.
In other words, it was hell and Jungkook knew Yugyeom could never pass that up.
“It's all yours buddy.” Yugyeom declared smiling (or grimacing, Jungkook still couldn’t tell).
“Thanks, Gyeomie.”
“Not that I’m not super enthusiastic about you taking over like the second hardest job here then essentially paying me for it by doing the first hardest job, but why do you want the cart that bad anyway?” Yugyeom asked suspiciously as Jungkook started the arduous task of getting the 70-pound thing to move on his own.
“You know, that sounds a lot like a question.” Jungkook gestured like he was about to give the trolley back. “Here I can always just-”
“On a second note, I think I’ll take my break now. Good luck Jungkookie,” Yugyeom moved faster than Jungkook had ever seen him go in the last four years. “Oh and I would’ve given it to you for three days of carriage duty!”
As his friend ran cackling around the corner, Jungkook briefly allowed himself to fantasize about banging his head into the metal bars.
But he loved Yugyeom and knew the taller boy always worried about him like crazy so really it would be a miracle if he let Jungkook go through three minutes of carriage duty (nonetheless three days) without stepping in. For now, he just thanked whatever deity tired out his fellow 97’ liner to the point where he willingly let Jungkook take over something that involved physical labor.
As silently as possible for someone pulling around a third of the building in product, he made his way to what Yugyeom and he like to refer to as “the sweet spot”.
The thing about these upper-class stores is that despite being so stuffy it's nearly impossible not to choke on the air of utmost privilege and ignorance, they're also grossly under-protected. Something about wealth surrounded by wealth covered in generational wealth just generates a false sense of security for the rich.
Which is why Jungkook knows that there are exactly three full blindspots in the store's camera system where if you stand correctly it's virtually impossible to be recorded for a few feet in any direction.
As he drags the cart into blindspot #2 between the produce aisle and the frozen food, he gives it a good few minutes of vigorously rearranging the trolley so the most difficult items are precariously stacked on top, before he hears the tell-tale click of what is undoubtedly two pairs of Chelsea boots purposefully pausing in the next aisle over.
Showtime.
Jungkook subtly angles towards the side and arranges his face into the most confused expression he can muster, lower lip pushed all the way out and eyes widened in the look that always makes Jin hyung immediately give him that last pastry or drive an hour across town just to pick up a video game.
Distantly, he hears the sound of cooing then a strangled off choke like someone tried to aww then remembered they weren’t supposed to be making any noise.
Still pouting, Jungkook reaches for a random item and heads in the complete opposite direction from the cart, making sure to look around in faux uncertainty like he hasn’t the faintest clue where a bag of mixed oats would go after two years.
The second his silhouette disappears around the corner- he books it.
It takes about one whole minute to go in a full semi-circle back to where he left the stock trolley, but if he timed it right, it should take at least two minutes for the boys to figure out what goes where without knocking down the stack.
Fifty seconds and a near collision with an ajumma who decided to take up the entire jam aisle later, he’s back at the cart and sure enough- there are two extremely stylish men huddled around, trying to move the most identifiable items from Jungkook’s impossibly complex tower.
“A-HA!” Jungkook shouts, startling them so badly Jimin almost pushes the cart over.
Jungkook points the bag of mixed oats at them like it's a weapon and not overpriced pistachios. “You have sixty seconds to explain why you’ve been stalking me for almost three weeks or I’m calling security.”
Never mind the fact that security would probably take one look at the 5 million ₩ Armani watches around their wrists and escort Jungkook off the premises instead.
“I promise it’s not what it looks like,” Jimin begins to say as his friend abruptly interrupts:
“No actually, it's exactly what it looks like.”
Jimin whips to the side and not-so-secretly elbows him in the stomach. “Yah!”
“It’s true though, we’ve been following him around for like a month,” Tae wheezes clutching his abdomen, “One time he sneezed and you were so gone for the nose scrunch that you walked like forty minutes away to that store that makes the sensory tissues cause you said you didn't want his perfect nose to get irritated with the regular stuff, remember?”
Stunned Jungkook thinks of the super-soft pack that mysteriously appeared in his bag last week. He had just assumed Yugyeom dropped them off in one of his usual fretting gestures and never mentioned it to avoid embarrassing the other.
“Yeah but we’re not supposed to tell him that!” Jimin gestures frantically.
“Well, I told you we should just talk to him.”
“Kim Taehyung are you forgetting that this whole thing was your plan in the first place?” Jimin lowers his voice, in what he assumes is a mocking impersonation of Taehyung: “Hey Chim let's follow the cute grocery worker around till we gather enough intel to approach him, it’ll be so cool- like playing super-spies except the prize is way better than gold or diamonds and shit!”
“Yeah, and you were the one who said we should just go up to him and talk to him like normal guys.” Taehyung persisted.
“You said that was a stupid idea!”
“It grew on me!”
The two boys continued arguing back and forth like Jungkook wasn't standing less than three feet away from them, but it kind of didn’t matter seeing as though his brain started malfunctioning as soon as the whole “cute worker prize” thing.
Shocked, his fingers automatically unclench and the weapon-wielded snack loudly smacks to the ground, cutting off the quarreling almost as fast as it started.
“Cu-cute?” Jungkook stuttered so quietly he doubted anyone could hear but two bodies were already sliding closer like they’d been waiting for an opening.
“Very, very cute,” Jimin responds hesitantly as though afraid Jungkook was going to run off now that they weren’t fighting.
Taehyung apparently had no such qualms.
The taller walked directly into Jungkook’s space forcing him to look up a little in order to make eye contact. “That’s an understatement, baby.”
Suddenly Jungkook was very grateful he had the foresight to have this conversation away from cameras.
“I don’t understand.”
And there went that brain malfunction again because it was beginning to sound like Taehyung and Jimin were following him around because they had a thing for him.
Him. Jungkook.
The same Jungkook who had to juggle part-time classes with a closing restaurant shift in addition to this job, meaning the last time he’d gotten 8 hours of sleep was when he still believed Santa was real. The same Jungkook who couldn’t remember the last thing he’d eaten that wasn’t from a convenience store or the last time he’d worn shoes that were actually his size and not just the sturdiest thing in the thrift store discount bin.
The giant Truman show-esque practical joke theory was starting to feel a lot more realistic.
“What Taehyung meant to say earlier,” Jimin pointedly glares at his friend, “Is that we couldn’t stop thinking about you after what happened last time and I know we didn’t exactly make the best first impression but we really want to make it up to you if you’ll let us.”
“But you were so mad at me and the money-” Jungkook started to say, cut off by Taehyung’s finger gently tipping his mouth shut.
“Jungkook, does it look like we need that money?”
Oh.
Well, that changes a few things.
“What did you need then?” Jungkook doesn't know why he’s suddenly whispering.
Maybe it had to do with the fact that Taehyung hadn’t moved a single inch from where his hand was starting to curl around his jaw or that from an outside perspective all their toe-to-toe positions looked so much more intimate than the conversation deemed.
“You gonna give me what I need if I tell you?” Taehyung’s warm breath fanning over his lips was starting to make his head go fuzzy.
“Tae.” Jimin said warningly.
“I know.”
And just like that Jungkook was stumbling forward as Taehyung abruptly stepped back, only steadied by Jimin’s quick reflexes.
On one hand, he was super grateful for the reprieve of maintaining eye contact with Taehyung's intimidating form, on the other hand, that 100% cotton uniform was doing a really terrible job blocking the sensation of Jimin's hand on his side.
Jimin’s eyes dilated slightly.
“Fuck, your waist is tiny,”
It felt a lot different than when Yugyeom had said it earlier. Meanwhile, Taehyung looked like he was two seconds away from trying to find that out for himself which Jungkook took as his cue to get control of this conversation before he ended up groped in the middle of the produce aisle.
Not that you would mind, his mind unhelpfully supplied.
“Forget it, I don’t care why you’ve been following me, just consider us even and we can all pretend this never happened.” Jungkook moved back like he’d been electrocuted but a familiar hand on his wrist pulled him back before he could get very far.
“You’re not walking away from us twice, bun” Jimin says with that same intensity from when he looked like he was physically restraining himself from tightening his grasp on Jungkook’s waist.
“No misunderstandings Jungkook, we don’t want to fake anything let us take you out on a real date.” Taehyung insisted.
“A date?” Jungkook knew he was starting to go red.
“A real date,” Jimin emphasized, “Not between friends and not to fulfill some weird sense of debt.”
Debt.
He knew they didn’t mean to but it was like dumping a cold bucket of water over his head, reminding Jungkook of the reason why he was constantly working to begin with. And the reason why he couldn’t afford for dating to even be a fantasy.
So he immediately shuts down.
“No.” Jungkook tugged at the hand but he was starting to remember from last time that Jimin was incredibly strong.
“Look me in the eyes and tell me you’re not the slightest bit interested in this and we’ll let it go.”
Taehyung refused to let up but Jungkook knew there was things way worse than a broken heart so he firmly fixed his eyes on the black beauty mark just below Taehyung’s right eye (too shy or too guilty for actual eye contact) and persistently ignored the pounding in his chest.
“I’m not interested in dating either of you and unless you suddenly start working here too, I’m not really interested in seeing you again either.”
The second he felt Jimin's hand loosen on his wrist in shock he was out of there and like deja vu, for the second time in just one month, he was walking away from the only two people that had looked his way first- except this time there were no pleas for him to come back.
As Jungkook walked away, he could feel his breathing start to get tighter, heartbeat accelerating, and tunnel vision narrowing in the tell-tale signs of an impending panic attack.
All he could think about was that he couldn’t afford to do this right now and get fired over a stupid breakdown that was his fault to begin with. Which of course only made him panic even more.
To this day he’s still not sure how he managed to get himself to the floor of the staff bathroom before the hyperventilation kicked in.
Mentally, he hears Yugyeom’s voice urging him to take a deep breath and find three things he could see, two things he could smell, and one thing he could taste (it was supposed to be five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste but Yugyeom always reduced the recommendation knowing Jungkook’s attention span would start wandering after five).
Jungkook slowly exhaled and started counting, ignoring the way oxygen currently felt like fire in his throat.
Sehtt: the marble floors he knew the kind janitor with a heavy Daegu accent cleaned like it was his favorite mug, the “Daechul can kiss my ass” scrawled across the wall in angry red sharpie (Daechul was their boss), and the off-brand black sneakers he’d bargained down to 12 won at Daiso.
Dhul: the faint aroma of marijuana because Soyeon liked to get high in the staff bathrooms as a fuck you to the supervisors and the hefty bleach of recently used sink cleaners.
Hana: The minty taste of Taehyung’s breath lingering on his tongue.
He didn’t want to think about how grounded that last one made him feel.
When Jungkook finally looked presentable enough not warner concerned glances and he couldn’t afford to stall any longer, he made his way back towards the abandoned cart. Fully prepared to run around the store for the next hour returning items before he was due on the register, he stopped in his tracks at the sight of the previously overflowing trolley completely empty, save for a sole prepurchased water bottle in the center.
His heart lurched at the thought of Taehyung and Jimin running around the store after he’d turned them down but his brain reminded him why he’d had to turn them down in the first place. So Jungkook braced himself and pretended he had no idea who left him that water. And later when Yugyeom astonishingly asked how he’d gotten through the stocking so fast: “What? Are there two of you?” he forced a laugh and refused to make eye contact because his best friend always knew when he was upset and frankly Jungkook was a terrible liar.
After that, he didn’t see Taehyung and Jimin at work anymore.
He would know because he was very pointedly not looking for the two after turning them down. Except once he’d caught a glimpse of a multicolored tie and whipped around so fast that his neck still hurt but all he managed to do was startle an elementary teacher shopping for classroom snacks for his students.
From then on Jungkook decided to stop looking, stop even thinking about it, and it worked for the most part.
He got through his shifts at Yongsan Commissary by mentally going through his school workload during the monotonous scanning. Meanwhile, his job at the restaurant kept him too busy to even think about anything, and trying to stay awake during school was basically a competitive sport anyways.
But then the sun went down and he was all alone and all he could think about was being pressed into that aisle by Taehyung with Jimin’s fingers digging into his waist.
Another part of him (the part he refuses to acknowledge) can feel his stomach twist with desire at the way they’d invaded his space, moving him around like he was just their little plaything. That same part can’t help wonder if they would fuck the same way; bending him over like a ragdoll while Taehyung pounds him into the sheets and Jimin uses those strong hands to tug him into position. Then Jungkook would notice his hips had started moving of their own violation, gyrating in small abandoned thrusts, and he would step into the freezing shower (for once grateful at the lack of heating in his little apartment), until all he could think about was getting warm again.
It wasn’t until many sleepless and cold shower-filled nights later that Jungkook was trudging into work at the crack of dawn for the mandatory team-meeting Daechul had been threatening them with since December.
A coffee is pushed into his hands as Yugyeom intercepts him on the way to the breakroom.
“You look even more dead than usual.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that since this is a dark roast.” Jungkook let himself inhale the coffee with the vigor of a coke addict.
“Seriously Kook, did you get another job without telling me?” Yugyeom persisted. “You know hyung would always be willing to help.” He was referring to his boyfriend Lim Jaebum, a young daepyo, with very deep pockets and a penchant for handing his friend his black card without blinking.
While Jungkook was unspeakably happy that his friend finally found someone who could treat him to all the things he deserved in life, he refused to take money from anyone- especially Yugyeom's boyfriend.
“Nope just the two, I promise,” Jungkook replied, playfully bumping shoulders, “So what do you think this meeting is about?”
Thankfully, Yugyeom allowed the topic switch but he noticed that he only fully relaxed once Jungkook was fully seated.
“I don't know but Mina says Dungchul has actually been working all week so it has to be something big.”
Jungkook’s coffee almost snorts out of his nose. “You know he’ll kill you if he hears you call him that, right?”
“Nah Yugyeom will be fine, he's the only one stupid enough to do the carriage collection every week,” Soyeon says, plopping down in the chair next to them with freshly dyed blond hair nearly giving Yugyeom a heart attack.
“Soyeon?! I thought you quit last week?” Yugeyom says, slowly reaching out like he’s about to try to touch a ghost.
Soyeon slaps his hand away, pulling out the tube of blood-red lipstick she absolutely refuses to go anywhere without.
“What made you think that?”
“Uh, you got on the intercom and announced you were quitting.”
Every few weeks, Soyeon dramatically quits, then miraculously reappears by her next shift. No one knows how Daechul hasn’t fired or killed her considering that if any of the rest of them even muttered the q-word they’d be out of employment faster than they could blink.
The current theory is that she’s bribing him with pictures of his mistress. The other theory is that she is the mistress.
Jungkook’s about to ask her if she only quit to make it to what looks like a very recent hair appointment when a slamming door indicating Daechul’s arrival rings out.
For the manager of one of Korea’s most high-end grocery stores, their boss typically can’t be bothered to wear anything but visibly reused pants and stretched button-downs (on a good day). So, to say the least, the room went very quiet at the image of him cleanly showered in an obviously pricy suit. Whether they were more surprised by the showered part or the suit would go unspoken.
“Listen up!” Daechul boomed despite the fact that no one had been talking.
“Today, we are changing hands with the current CEO of the company and out of 5 different locations they’ve chosen our store to supervise. This is a great honor and I expect everyone to be on their best behavior to demonstrate why Yongsan Commissary is the highest-earning branch today.”
Jungkook didn’t have to turn to know there would be equally shocked expressions on Yugyeom and Soyeon’s faces.
The previous CEO had been an elderly, emotionless Lee Kun Hee that looked like he wouldn’t give up his legacy if it meant world peace. Even his family had frequently joked that North Korea would sign a peace treaty with Moon Jae-in long before the company changed hands.
The sound of a door shutting echoed in the stunned room and Daechul immediately lowered into a 90-degree bow (which was almost as surprising as the whole business exchange thing seeing as though Jungkook had once seen him refuse to tie his loafers for an entire week because it would require “too much abdomen movement”).
“Ah sajang-nims, I was just introducing you.” Daechul simpers while gesturing aggressively for everyone to do the same.
Poor Yugyeom almost falls off his chair with the speed he rushes to stand up and bow. With his own head angeled down respectfully, Jungkook can faintly hear chairs scrapping back as the others hurry to do the same.
“Thank you Daechul-ssi, that will be all.” An all too familiar baritone pitches from above.
“Yes, we greatly appreciate the gesture.” The same melodic voice he’d been hearing since it fondly called him sweetheart a month ago.
Jungkook breaks out of the bow, way earlier than appropriate, ignoring Yugyeom and Soyeon’s insistent hands trying to tug him back down.
“Please welcome our new Ceo’s Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung.”
Fuck.