Chapter Text
Well fed devils behave better than famished saints.
•••
Taehyung has found himself in this scenario too many times to count. In serious need of a job and desperate to be taken seriously, his frustration at the fact doesn't stem from entitlement, but rather need. Needs that start with having enough money to eat tomorrow and end somewhere with his family’s debts being settled.
Rather unfortunately, now familiarized with gross execs and their equally slimy minions, Taehyung knows when his time is about to be wasted. The one positive to his dream profession being filled with the seedy and disreputable is how easy it’s been made to numb himself to the abundance of underhanded comments and dismissive airs he’s doled out. Easier to roll his eyes and look the other way when he couldn’t be offered enough money to respect them long enough for an opinion to matter in the first place.
It’s a harder pill to swallow when the rejection he’s facing with a smile involves people he could have possibly tolerated.
“I don’t understand,” Taehyung says, eyes cast towards the floor. If he’d been able to keep up the act until they dismissed him, he might have noticed having long since lost any and all attention—at least the kind that matters.
“You’re talented,” one of the men across the room say. Not nameless like many of the other business suit worshiping assholes Taehyung has spent time sucking up to. Park Janghyun is somebody Taehyung knows—knows of. It's enough to sting.
“But you’re unestablished. Talent alone doesn’t return investments. You have no other sponsors, and you have very little to show for portfolio-wise.” Janghyun twirls his pen between his index and middle finger; Taehyung watches it instead of meeting his eye, or continuing to stare at the floor. “Maybe in the future we’d be a good fit for one another, but right now it’s a no.”
He nods, blank-faced and heart stammering as he bows one last time to the room at large. He turns on his heels without further ceremony, eyes catching on the room number as he does. Room three fifty-five, important enough to be displayed in stainless steel outside the door. Three fifty five, he thinks once, twice, ten times in a row. It distracts from his agent chittering away in his ear about smiling the entire time; you’ll look ungrateful. It fades to murmured half-assed assurances. It's always the same—one unbroken loop of denial, rooted in his lack of resources, connections, money.
It’d be untrue to say he hadn’t known what he’d been getting himself into, in a way. Even those with no understanding of what it was like knew the universal truth: the entertainment industry chews up and spits out for any number of reasons. Taehyung happened to qualify for several. His family has no background in the industry, they hardly have a background in spelling the word success .
His agent’s phone rings, and she gives him one last pitying glance before taking off without him. Taehyung watches her numbly, slowing to a stop mid-step and mid-hallway. The fluorescent lights overhead don't flicker; the companies that leased spaces here had money.
Wrapping his arms around himself in a poor imitation of comfort, the static that’d been filling his head begins to fizzle out, and in its wake comes a swell of anxiety. Taehyung stumbles to the side, catching himself against the wall. He’s not quite sure what exactly it is about this rejection in particular—if it’s actually about this particular one at all, or if it’s a matter of exhaustion. Perhaps embarrassment, or stress, or shame at himself.
He can't afford to wallow here, as much as he’d like to, and he means afford literally. The janitorial staff may mistake him for a sad pile of misery and sweep him into the trash. Huffing at his own self-deprecating spiral he collects himself as best he can and finishes the walk towards the elevator, sighing to himself as he waits for it to reach his level.
Being broke is the tragedy that keeps on giving, he thinks, imagining how nice it would be to treat himself to something right now. Anything. Instead, he thinks of the instant ramyeon and pile of laundry waiting for him at home. He’s so lost in thought he nearly misses the elevator opening, relieved to find it empty, save for a single man in yet another nondescript business suit.
He’s startled when the quiet is disrupted. He’s even more startled to discover he’s being spoken to, despite being the only other person there.
“Excuse me. Did something sad happen?” He asks. Taehyung stares down at the man’s shiny dress shoes, so polished he’d be able to catch his reflection in them if he got close enough. He briefly wonders if he’s on his way to crush somebody’s dreams, too.
“Yes,” Taehyung says. He’s unintentionally so quiet he’s forced to clear his throat and try again. “Yes, but I’m fine.”
“You’re crying,” the stranger states, rather redundantly. Granted, Taehyung hadn’t noticed yet.
Looking up, Taehyung catches sight of himself in the mirrored walls of the elevator, expression turning sour for a second at his own display of emotion. “Sorry,” he says, for some reason. He’s really not sorry though, even if he does feel sorry for himself.
His eyes slide off the wall and onto the man in front of him. Instinctually Taehyung’s immediate response is to size him up, and the stranger fares well; he’s got the face of a movie star, truly someone Taehyung could imagine on the big screen, or in a drama. Taehyung doubts this, seeing as he’s dressed the same as everyone else he’s seen today. Maybe a subtle step up from the men who’d only minutes earlier rejected sponsorship of Taehyung’s wanna-be career.
The man pulls out an actual handkerchief, and Taehyung blinks back surprise, taken off guard at the sheer unexpectedness of the action. “Don’t cry,” the stranger says gently.
“Uh,” Taehyung struggles for a moment. Both to think of something to say and what to think. Ultimately he takes the offering, though somewhat apprehensively, and looks to the mirror to wipe at his tears. He’d worn makeup for his meeting, but it resulted in a mess on his face when met with his tears. “Thank you.”
The elevator comes to a smooth halt, doors opening to the floor level. It’s much busier down here, people bustling in every direction, and Taehyung clutches nervously at the handkerchief, unsure what the protocol for such a situation could possibly be. Should he return it? It’s already covered in tears and ruined makeup.
“Ah,” Taehyung begins, scrambling to think of something. “Would you like this back?”
The stranger tilts his head at it, as though the thought hadn’t occurred to him. Taehyung burns red.
A pause. “Are you hungry?” He asks apropos of nothing.
“What?” Taehyung asks dumbly.
“I was headed out for lunch. Would you like to join me? Or are you busy?”
Taehyung is having a weird day. This constitutes a weird day, doesn’t it? “I don’t even know your name.”
“Kim Seokjin, it's a pleasure to meet you.”
“Taehyung,” Taehyung replies faintly, already following Seokjin’s lead out of the building.
—
Seokjin doesn’t tell Taehyung where they’re headed. He doesn’t seem too keen on explaining his thought process either, only says it’s within walking distance, and Taehyung numb with upset and frustration as he is stupidly follows. It’s fine, until he remembers what district they’re in and how expensive this is about to become. He clams up when the realization hits him, and Seokjin seems to notice, turning to look at Taehyung who’s trailing by his side. “Is everything okay?”
Taehyung looks out at the bustling street, people weaving in and out of buildings, some making their way down the sidewalk by foot and others down the street in buses or cars. It's a familiar sight yet not, a more polished, expensive version of what he sees around where he lives.
“I—I’m sorry Seokjin-ssi, I don’t want to be rude.” It’s the first full sentence Taehyung has managed to get out since his meeting ended, tears dried up at some point of confusion at the turn of events. He swallows heavily, and the two of them continue to make their way down the sidewalk at a slower pace. “But there’s probably been a misunderstanding…” He frowns, giving Seokjin another once over. “I’m not from around here. I don’t work in that building,” he clarifies. Seokjin remains nonplussed.
“I wasn’t under the impression that you did. I work there, and I’ve never seen you around before.”
“Oh.” Taehyung nods. “Right, well, I don’t think I can afford to eat anywhere you eat.” He huffs, almost a nervous laugh but not quite. He hopes Seokjin pieces it together on his own without Taehyung having to spell it out for him. I’m probably a lot poorer than you’ve ever been.
“That’s not an issue,” Seokjin announces decisively. His clear expression gives the impression of understanding, though Taehyung doubts he really does. “I’m inviting you.”
“I can’t allow you to do that,” Taehyung argues, despite knowing that declining could be seen as an act of rudeness in and of itself. “We don’t know each other,” he points out again.
“I am aware,” Seokjin replies, half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You seemed like you could use a free lunch today. I don't mind.”
Taehyung is touched, admittedly, but manages not to show it. “Oh. Thank you.”
“It’s nothing.”
The restaurant is only two more minutes away, and Taehyung is faced with the likes of a place he’s only ever graced through momentary glances through windows on the street. Seokjin doesn’t bat an eye, not that Taehyung had been expecting him to, rattling off his name to a hostess who directs them to a table that may or may not—Taehyung can’t tell—be reserved for him.
The menu has food he's more than familiar with, much to his relief, and it's not long before their orders arrive. The food and Seokjin’s easy and undemanding company does help him feel better. He finds himself opening up midway through their meal, when Seokjin eventually asks him what happened.
“I was in a meeting with my agent regarding a potential sponsor,” Taehyung explains. “It didn’t go well.”
Seokjin nods. “Don’t be discouraged, Taehyung-ssi. You have the look these executives want, and if you have the talent, then things will work out.”
Taehyung suppresses his urge to immediately show annoyance. Seokjin doesn’t know what he’s talking about, clearly, but he also means well and he’s been very kind so far. Taehyung realizes his short temper can be attributed to today’s events. Today’s and the last year. Seokjin is the last person who deserves to receive the brunt of his frustrations though.
“Easier said than done.” Taehyung sighs. “It’s easy to feel discouraged when these execs want sexual favors before they’ll consider for a second whether or not you have ‘talent’, and those who aren’t complete perverts won’t consider me when they realize I’m nobody. And have no money.” Taehyung squeezes his hands into fists. “But there’s nothing I can do about any of it. So in the meantime, I’ll have to try harder.”
It's very possible Taehyung is fraternizing with the enemy right now, given the evidence. Fancy suit and all. He certainly hadn’t planned any of today's events as they happened to play out, but he can't help but give into the urge to vent, even for a moment to a complete stranger. He doesn’t talk about these things with his family for fear of adding to their burdens, and he’s not one to share about himself even when he possibly should.
Bracing himself for pity or perhaps annoyance, Taehyung chances a look up. Rather than either, he’s faced with a pensive looking Seokjin, free of judgment or annoyance, and far from pity; Taehyung thinks that it’s the best case scenario, considering.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Seokjin says. “I shouldn’t speak on things I have no personal experience with.”
Guilt grabs hold of him, and Taehyung shakes his head. “I’m sorry for unloading all of that on you. It just gets… frustrating. Thank you for listening to me, and for lunch. I appreciate it.”
“It’s nothing. It was the least I could do, but, Taehyung-ssi, I may have a proposition that could help the both of us. If it's not too bold of me to suggest.”
For a man like Seokjin, who exudes something Taehyung wants to label class and wealth, he gets the impression that Seokjin could, and does, get away with a lot. Regardless, his interest has certainly peaked.
“You’re not about to sexually proposition me… are you?” Taehyung asks nervously, trying for a joke.
“No,” Seokjin says, more seriously than Taehyung is prepared for. “Certainly not before you would like me to.”
Taehyung stares at him, face slack.
“I happen to be in a—“ Seokjin pauses, grimace overtaking his features. “Unique, situation. In exchange for your help, I’ll sponsor you for as long as you happen to need me, in assistance of establishing a name for yourself.”
Taehyung’s immediate reaction is quiet alarm, and then apprehension. “My help,” he repeats warily. “What could I possibly have to offer someone like you?”
“Date me. Of course, we won’t really be together, but for the sake of appearances I need you to pretend.” Seokjin takes a sip from his glass, like the words coming out of his mouth aren’t short of utterly ridiculous. “And, as promised, I’ll sponsor you myself. I’m willing to help you in any other way possible in the meantime as well, although I don't know much about the entertainment industry.”
And Taehyung had thought his day was weird twenty minutes ago. “Oh. I see what’s happening,” he says calmly, nodding to himself. “This is some sort of prank. There are hidden cameras, and it all started in that awful meeting room down the block.”
Seokjin purses his lips. “No. I’m being quite serious.”
“Okay,” Taehyung barrels on, “Or maybe I tripped and fell, hit my head and blacked out. And this is all a dream based on a webcomic I probably read at the age of seventeen, yeah.”
This elicits a laugh from Seokjin. “I’m pretty sure I’m a fully conscious being, and that you might be too. I guess it does sound kind of web-comic-esque.”
Taehyung knows his expression is one of complete incredulity. “Do businessmen even read webcomics? Next thing you know you're going to tell me you’re a CEO. Imagine a CEO reading a tropey webcomic about his own life? Has that happened before?”
“Maybe this was a lot to drop on you,” Seokjin says, like it's only now occurring to him as a possibility. “What with the day you’ve already been having.”
Taehyung blinks at him, eyes narrowing. “Yeah.”
“It could be beneficial, maybe even fun,” Seokjin adds. “Becoming my boyfriend—partner? Call it what you will, but it needs to be believable and it needs to be a little more serious than casual dating. I promise to make it worth your while, and no sexual favors necessary.” Seokjin pauses. “Unless you want that.”
Rapidly flushing to his hairline and mouth now gaping slightly, a passing waiter gives him a look as they hurry past. Taehyung must be a sight.
“Are all people with money out of their fucking minds?” Taehyung asks, dismayed and maybe dizzy. “You didn’t answer my question.”
Seokjin remains calm, exceedingly so for the bomb he just dropped on him; he goes as far as to having the gall to look amused by Taehyung’s reaction, as if a lesser man wouldn’t be running in the other direction already—or laughing hysterically. It's as Seokjin appears to be thinking over how to respond that his phone goes off, and he wastes no time slipping out of the amused atmosphere he’s seem to have taken on to check it.
“Ah, unfortunately I have to return to work, but I’m more than happy to answer your questions another time. I’ll leave you my number and I'll let you contact me—if you decide to.” Seokjin stands from the table, and Taehyung feels like this is happening very fast. He pushes back from the table himself, almost stumbling in his haste to follow.
“Wait! You can’t just leave after that.” Taehyung is floundering, glancing around in hopes that no one is paying them any attention. “I—“
Pulling a pen from his front jacket pocket, Seokjin grabs one of the disposable napkins from the table to scribble a number down. “Here.” He hands it over. “Please reach out. It’s my personal number. If I don’t hear from you in a few days then I’ll assume you’re not interested.”
“What about the bill?” Taehyung asks wildly, still hoping to keep Seokjin a moment longer to talk.
“I covered it already. I have a tab here. If I don’t see you again, I wish you all the best in your endeavors,” Seokjin says, bows briefly, and walks back towards the exit without so much as a backwards glance.
Taehyung, left gaping after him for another moment, wonders a second time if he’d hit his head and blacked out. These things don't happen in real life, he thinks, but the napkin, and Seokjin’s number, don't vanish from thin air. The cab ride home is a pensive one.
—
Taehyung has an uninteresting following two days. His agent sends him an uninspired message about staying positive, his electricity bill comes in, his family send a handful of unanswered messages. As mundane as it is, it's safe, and he should want to focus on it. (He can’t.) Every thought between keeping busy and distraction motivated daydreaming results in his mind returning to the mysterious businessman—Taehyung eventually realizes he has no idea what his job was, actually—that had left him with more questions than answers.
If it weren’t for the napkin and phone number, currently collecting dust on his kitchen table, he’d think the memory of Seokjin was nothing short of a vivid daydream. A result of his overactive imagination and stress, his mind has started imagining scenarios (and unoriginal ones at that) of possible solutions to his impossible problems.
But it was real—and Taehyung can’t help but wonder if the proposition was too. If Seokjin can hold up his promise of sponsorship, or if Taehyung is simply terribly naïve and easy to mess with.
Regardless, he finds himself on his living room floor, phone in hand as he stares at Seokjin’s phone number. He has to call him. It's hardly a choice, because whether Seokjin was serious or not, Taehyung will slowly lose his sanity without any answers.
It’s half past seven in the evening, which leads him to believe Seokjin probably isn’t in the office anymore. That doesn't necessarily mean he’s available, though Taehyung amuses himself with the idea he’s out somewhere asking other strangers to date him.
He hits call after staring at it for longer than he should, the line dialing over static. He’s lost in his nerves when Seokjin answers, after only the second ring.
It clicks. “Kim Seokjin,” he answers. He sounds different to what he had days ago, tone under laced with what might be tiredness. It’s certainly no-nonsense.
“Hello,” Taehyung manages not to stutter, though his heart is thumping.
“Hello? Who is this?”
“Taehyung,” he says, trying for casual. “Kim Taehyung. We met a couple of days ago. You left me your number.”
There’s a heavy pause before Seokjin speaks. “Taehyung-ssi,” he says, surprised. “I wasn’t so sure you were going to contact me. It's good to hear from you.”
“Yes, uh, I just—I had a lot of questions…” Taehyung clutches his throw pillow to his chest. “I can’t stop thinking about your insane proposal, so.”
“Right. Rich people things, I remember.” He sounds amused, voice a steady sound. Taehyung relaxes slightly. “I’m glad you decided to call me. We should meet again.”
Direct as ever, but Taehyung has no complaints.
“Yes, um—we should.” Because why the fuck not. Best case scenario he gets a sponsor, for the low low price of his dignity. “When works for you?”
Seokjin hums. “Right now. Are you free?”
Taehyung rushes to stand, his hands trembling with anxious energy. “I mean—yes? Where?”
“If it’s not too much trouble, my office. I’m still in, and it’d save me a trip.”
That's a good way away. Taehyung chews at his thumbnail. “I’m not very close. It may take me a while…”
“I’ll send a car. Let me know where you’d like the car to meet you.”
Taehyung rubs a hand down his face. “Sure, whatever.” It sounds like a question.
Seokjin gives a curt goodbye.
The line goes dead, no more than that. Taehyung stares at his darkened phone screen, his reflection bewildered. Rich people are so strange.
—
As promised, there’s someone waiting for him in a car, not far from his apartment. Taehyung slides into the back and enjoys the fruits of someone else’s labor guilt free, poking at the heated seat controls. The drive goes quickly, and they pull up to the office building in record time, which leads him to wondering about how much free time luxuries such as a private driver afforded.
Inside the building, he notes how different the atmosphere is to the last time he’d been here. Empty save for a sleepy night staff consisting of a desk clerk and security, the lights dimmed. The echo of his walk towards the elevator intimidates as much as the high-rise ceiling.
Seokjin had shared his office and floor number, which according to the elevator was at the top of the building. He stares at his spooked expression in the mirrored walls, thinking on how he’d been crying in here not long ago.
Seokjin’s office is easy to spot even from the farthest end of the hall. It’s the only open door or illuminated room, and Taehyung grows more nervous with every step. He knocks on the open door and peers inside, finding Seokjin behind a mahogany desk, still focused on his computer screen. He really hadn’t expected Seokjin to still be working at this hour, and the scene causes a twinge of guilt. Everyone else was long gone.
“Seokjin-ssi,” Taehyung says, stepping in.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet me on such short notice,” Seokjin says as Taehyung approaches.
“It wasn't a problem,” Taehyung replies, which is true. He’s not working tomorrow, a truth more common these days than he would prefer—or is able to afford. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your working hours,” he adds sheepishly. “I called thinking you wouldn't be in.”
“I came in late today, and I often leave later than everyone else.” Seokjin gestures for him to sit across from him in the seat opposite his desk.
Taehyung sits, and they lapse into silence. It's clear they’re skirting the topic at hand, at least Taehyung is, because Seokjin didn’t seem shy about it the first time. Maybe Seokjin is leaving the ball in his court, Taehying thinks, and musters up the courage to do what he had come here to do.
“Did you mean what you said the other day? You truly intend to sponsor me… in exchange for a fake relationship?”
Seokjin’s expression remains open and sincere, and Taehyung eyes him with a critical eye. “Yes. I wouldn’t offer unless I were able to hold up to my word. Running out on deals is the kiss of death in the business world.”
“Right,” Taehyung says, as though he has the first bit of knowledge about business practice or what it entails. “I mean, okay—before we go any further, who are you, really? How can I trust you? More importantly, what exactly would a fake relationship look like? Why do you want my help specifically?”
Seokjin tilts his head at him. “That’s a lot of questions. You’re considering it, then?”
“Of course I am,” Taehyung answers, though defeat haunts his tone. “You can’t believe I’m stupid enough to pass up the opportunity, if it’s as good as it sounds.”
“You didn’t strike me as the stupid type,” Seokjin says lightly. “Financially speaking,” he starts, looking curiously at Taehyung. “You don’t know who I am?”
“No?” Taehyung huffs. “Am I supposed to?”
Smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, Seokjin shakes his head. “I guess not. You don’t run in the same circles I do. Please look me up when you get a chance, and I promise to answer any specific questions you have about me later. But I can tell you the stuff that wouldn’t show up over a cursory search. My favorite color is pink, I’m a decent cook, and I love my job.”
Taehyung cracks a smile. “What a detailed run-down.”
“That last bit is important. It ties into why I want your help,” Seokjin says. “My job is important to me, and I would prefer that I not jeopardize it.” He begins to look mildly embarrassed, and for the first time. It's about time, Taehyung thinks privately. “My position here was inherited to me, in a way. That comes with its disadvantages as much as its advantages.”
“Okay,” Taehyung nods. He still doesn’t see how any of it ties back to him.
“My title hasn't been official, despite doing almost everything that having my job position would require.”
“Your family won’t hire you, officially?” Taehyung tries to follow.
Seokjin nods. “Mm, basically. I wouldn't care so much, but it’s only recently my father has threatened my involvement here. Something about needing to prioritize other aspects of life.” Seokjin rolls his eyes “Something about finding balance, I don't know.”
“He wants you to date?“ Taehyung asks incredulously, leaning forward in his seat. Talk about family drama. “You could date anyone, though. You don’t need me for that.” Taehyung alludes to the fact that he isn’t the caliber of person that someone like Seokjin would look twice at. Not to mention Taehyung is the last person on earth who'd know the first thing about being rich and pompous.
“Not necessarily,” Seokjin says, and his mouth forms half a pout, likely unaware he’s even begun to do so. It makes him look younger, less businessman and more young twenty-something. At least that’s Taehyung's guess as to how old he is. “This was the easiest way I could think of to appease him. It’s this, or actually taking time off to vacation, which would require me to do what my father wants. This way I don’t have to, I can just pretend.”
Taehyung raises an eyebrow at him. “This is silly.”
Seokjin laughs. “Silly? I'll take it. It's an improvement from weird.”
“It’s still weird,” Taehyung says decisively. He scrunches his nose. “But it's also silly. You really can’t just take a vacation and let your poor family take care of you in their own way? I know its not ideal… but.” He pauses. “Well actually, this is a pretty good deal for me. I’m in need of sponsors and you’re offering yourself to me on a silver platter.”
“That I am,” Seokjin says, grinning. “As for why I want it to be you—believe it or not, it's the more believable option. I’m not sure they’re going to entertain the thought of me and one of the trust fund babies I grew up around.” Seokjin makes a face, like the thought alone is an uncomfortable one. “Also, you happen to be an actor, I trust you can deliver a believable performance.”
Taehyung knows an obvious goad from a mile away, yet he falls for it anyway. It's a jab at his pride, and he turns his nose up at the teasing look on Seokjin’s face. “I am an amazing actor,” he says. “I guess…” he softens, contemplating if he’s really about to take the plunge. “I’m tentatively saying yes.”
For what must be the first time, Seokjin breaks out into a full smile, and Taehyung can't find it in himself to regret his decision in the face of his genuine happiness—or at the least, relief. “I hope for a beneficial deal for the both of us, Taehyung.”
“Me too, Seokjin-ssi.”
—
Chauffeured back in the same car he’d arrived in, Taehyung doesn't bother holding off opening naver until he arrives home. It's in the back of one of his own cars that Taehyung searches for Kim Seokjin , because Seokjin had certainly sold himself as someone worthy of being looked up. He really does have a profile, to Taehyung’s dismay, a number of photos—most of which are professionally taken—and a few interviews. Even Seokjin’s candids (which he has few of anyway) are impressive. Seokjin has an air of self-possession, without room for error. Taehyung has no doubt he could fund his acting career, or at least the start of it.
An article about Epiphany enterprises he stumbles across is convoluted and Taehyung skims it with little understanding. Most of the material he finds is surface-level uninteresting, but impressive if you knew what to look for. It speaks well for himself, and a possible alliance. Kim Seokjin is a man of few words, and there is little if anything about him personally anywhere online, despite his professional success.
Maybe the trivial facts about himself he’d shared with Taehyung were high currency, and Taehyung hadn’t even realized. He finds a few instances in which a photo of Seokjin went viral, people desperate to know who the handsome and mysterious man could possibly be. He’s amassed a fee nicknames in this vein: idol-faced CEO, world wide handsome, car door man. Taehyung huffs at the first one; it couldn't have been a coincidence that Seokjin had kept his position title vague.
At twenty-nine he’s not much older than Taehyung, and if you were to guess by appearance alone, doesn’t look any older.
Taehyung falls asleep with a load on his mind, though he’s buzzing with excitement at the same time; he only hopes he doesn’t come to regret this.
—
Working through the details of a fake relationship is more work than Taehyung anticipates. The most interesting part, in his opinion, is Seokjin’s stepping into the role as his sponsor.
Predictably, his manager doesn’t believe him at first.
“Kim Seokjin? The Kim Seokjin? You’re telling me he’s agreed to a sponsorship, with you?”
“I’ve only explained that to you three times,” Taehyung sighs. “I understand it's surprising, believe me, I was just as surprised.” More so . “But it’s the truth. He should be here soon.” He glances at his phone.
Jiwoo doesn’t look convinced. “Taehyung, no one of his status is going to give you a second thought without a little more backing, or status, or notoriety. You have none of these things, how do you believe he’s going to walk through that door to—”
“Sorry, am I late?” Seokjin’s voice cuts over Jiwoo’s. “It’s rush hour.”
Taehyung raises an eyebrow at his manager, whose mouth is still open. “Jiwoo-ssi,” Taehyung says flatly, giving a wave to Seokjin, “Kim Seokjin, my newest sponsor.”
Coming to stand by Taehyung, Seokjin extends a hand to an astonished Jiwoo, who is growing pale. Too delayed to be natural, Jiwoo reaches for Seokjin’s hand, shaking it. “Nice—very nice to meet you.”
“Wish I could say the same,” Seokjin says pleasantly.
The serious risk of laughter is abated only by Taehyung’s acting skills.
“Uh—right.” Jiwoo stutters. “You and Kim Taehyung—you plan to become his sponsor?”
“Taehyung-ssi, your manager either has horrible memory retention or really enjoys wasting people's time. Jiwoo-ssi, I will be sponsoring Taehyung, and while I don’t know too much about the entertainment industry I imagine it’s probably in bad practice to lack confidence in your own clientele.”
There’s no doubt as to what Seokjin is doing, and Taehyung watches with wonder as Seokjin delivers an insult with the grace of a pleasantry. Taehyung never bothered trying to get through to anyone he’s worked with, never bothered standing up for himself when faced with their disrespect or underhanded comments because it wasn't worth his while. Starting fights with people who can sink your career isn’t conducive to anything he wants. He couldn’t afford anyone better anyway, though Seokjin doesn’t have any such qualms and it shows.
Throwing him a look that’s nothing short of smug, Seokjin spends the rest of the meeting giving Taehyung looks that have him giggling into the palm of his hand while poorly trying to excuse it for a sudden bout of coughing. If his manager actually catches onto what they’re doing he either doesn’t care or doesn’t notice. Taehyung assumes the latter, by the way he’s nervous sweating and stammering through what he’d normally be droning about in a vaguely condescending manner.
“Thank—thank you for your consideration and generosity,” his manager says towards the end of their meeting. Seokjin gives a flat smile in return. Jiwoo swallows nervously, and Taehyung hates that the sight of his tottering composure leaves him feeling so satisfied. It's a less than polite way to be feeling, but it’s validating as all hell.
“Jiwoo-ssi, you wouldn’t mind giving Taehyung and I a moment, would you?”
“Well, this is my office—“ Jiwoo starts, but one cutting look from Seokjin has him standing up and heading towards the door.
“Take as long as you need,” Jiwoo mutters, and Taehyung holds his laughter.
“Wow, Seokjin-ssi, I should take you everywhere,” he says when the door clicks shut.
“He was insufferable,” Seokjin replies, any remaining pretense at being polite dissolving. “How do you put up with that?”
“It's not like I have a choice,” Taehyung answers, still amused. “You’re so mean.” He means it as a compliment, and Seokjin seems to understand.
“Yes, I can be.” He gives Taehyung a look he can’t quite read. “Now that I’m working on my end of the deal, I want to talk about you.”
“I’m all yours,” Taehyung says, aiming for playful flirting and landing somewhere closer to shyness. Seokjin looks amused, at least.
“That’s a relief,” He replies, every bit the flirt Taehyung wished he could be. His expression smooths out. “We can’t jump into meeting my parents right away. They’d be suspicious of us if I willingly brought you to them.”
Taehyung thinks back to how little he’d been able to find about Seokjin online. “Your parents would be suspicious of that? You sound… private.”
Seokjin’s lips thin. “So I’ve been told. But I don’t want to risk it.”
“I’m not judging you, Seokjin-ssi,” Taehyung says gently. “I’m guilty of the same. I understand.”
Seokjin looks away, then, “I appreciate it.”
“So what are we doing, if not a formal introduction?” Taehyung asks.
“A ‘leaked’ sighting, or two, and when my family inevitably comes asking for details, I’ll pretend to not want to talk about it. Let them break me down.”
It’s convoluted, maybe unnecessary, but he isn’t being paid to make judgments. “And then?”
“I introduce you. I convince them I know the meaning of the word moderation, and if that goes well, securing my future at the company.”
“Seems easy enough,” Taehyung laughs. “Certainly worth it for the salary.”
“I’m your sponsor now,” Seokjin teases. “Anything else you happen to do for me is a favor between friends.” He pauses, giving Taehyung a once over. “Please buy some new clothes with the money I sent.”
Mouth dropping open, Taehyung’s heart almost falls out of his ass before he sees the look on Seokjin’s face. “Don’t be mean to me.”
“You seemed fine with it a minute ago.”
“It's only okay when I say it's okay,” Taehyung whines, crossing his arms.
“I need to take this business call,” Seokjin suddenly says, ignoring him completely.
“Your phone didn’t even ring.”
“Sorry, I can't hear you over all this business I’m doing.”
—
Taehyung, still riding on his recent emotional high, goes into his next audition feeling confident. His good mood doesn’t last long in the face of his agent, who tells him “ Not to idealize .”
Taehyung wants to throw his phone at her the second she says it, because it’s rude, but he’s mostly hung up on how anyone expects anything of him when they seem adamant on dismissing the mere possibility of an effort.
To his joy—and not surprise, because he does have self worth—his audition goes well, and despite Taehyung often going to them alone, he’s confident in his own ability to deliver when necessary. He’s less confident that he’ll be considered fairly, but the reminder of Seokjin’s support stays present in the back of his mind. He can only hope for a callback after doing what he can.
He is surprised to see a message from Seokjin on his way out. A text message asking Taehyung to call him when he has the chance.
“Taehyung,” comes Seokjin’s voice over the receiver. “How was your audition?”
“You knew about my audition?” Taehyung asks. He doesn’t remember mentioning it to him. Though—maybe this is something Seokjin should know?
“Mm, I had your manager send me a schedule.”
“Oh,” Taehyung says, warmth sparking in his stomach. “I think… it went well. I’ll let you know if I get a callback.”
“Please do. I also have good news, I had my brother send me a contact of his that might be helpful to you. I’ll send you his information later. His name is Park Jimin.”
Taehyung isn’t familiar, but he listens attentively.
“He works in the industry, and Jeongguk—my brother—owes me a million favors, so I had him forward one of those to Jimin.”
Taehyung pauses mid step, and still in the middle of the middle of a busy sidewalk, gets bumped into from behind. He apologizes and steps aside, trying to shrink against a building without looking weird. Nobody seems to be paying any attention to him.
“That’s so—kind of you, Seokjin-ssi, I really can’t thank you enough.”
“It cost me nothing and took little effort, so don’t thank me too much. I was hoping it’d incentivize you into joining me for our first public date.” Seokjin breathes out, like the words had weighed on him before escaping. Taehyung’s eyes track to foot traffic in front of him.
“Our first date, ever, you mean,” Taehyung says slowly, biting down on his growing smile. “You didn’t need to sweeten the pot, I would’ve said yes,” Taehyung says. “But I appreciate it. Send me a date and time and I’ll be there.”
“See you soon.”
“Until then, Seokjin-ssi.”
—
The noodles here are always on the side of too dry. Taehyung stirs at them with little interest, shadows falling over his food as he does. “And now we have a date planned. I’m not sure I have anything to wear, but I’m hoping it involves food. The first place we went to was amazing. Really posh rich people stuff, you know.”
Hoseok is staring at him with a slack mouth, disbelieving of Taehyung’s retelling of recent events. He’s still having a hard time believing it himself. “How’d you meet again?” Hoseok asks, leaning forward so his body leans over the table. “By coincidence, chance? He saw you crying in the elevator?”
Taehyung purses his lips. “I mean, yeah. That part was the most boring, though. He’s hotter in person,” he says to Namjoon, who’s scrolling through some internet searches, nose deep in his phone.
“He’s really hot in photos too,” Namjoon says, dazed. Taehyung doesn’t disagree.
Hoseok glances at the screen, eyes glittering with the sheer possibility. “Have you flirted with him?” He asks, dead serious. “You should. You should fuck him.”
“The whole reason I needed a sponsor was because I refuse to sleep around with the sleazy rich and powerful” Taehyung rolls his eyes.
“Okay, and? You’ve already secured the bag. He’s hot as hell, you're single. One plus one…” Hoseok makes a vague gesture, chopsticks still in hand.
“If you don’t, I will,” Namjoon interjects.
“No you won't,” Taehyung says. “Because you’re never going to meet him.”
Namjoon and Hoseok share a look. “Do you really not want to?”
Taehyung hesitates. “I mean—I don’t not want to.”
“This is amazing.” Hoseok claps his hands together once. “The universe wants you to succeed! And get laid. As it should!”
Smiling, Taehyung lifts his glass to the both of them, “To the universe, I guess.”
—
Their ‘first date’ begins pleasantly. Seokjin picks Taehyung up himself this time, in a different car from the first. Taehyung wastes no time in ogling the console and its many buttons. He asks Seokjin about some of it, and he answers his questions without a hint of hesitation or annoyance, which spurs Taehyung into asking more questions.
“If you’re into cars, I can show you the others. I might consider letting you drive too, if you have your license.”
Taehyung knows how to drive, technically, but its been a long while since he has. He doesn’t have a car and living in the city, he didn’t exactly need one. “Thank you,” he says, sitting back into his seat. “I’m not that into cars, but this one is pretty cool.” He passes his hand dreamily over the dash.
Seokjin grins, eyes still on the road. He’s wearing a blue button down, though not necessarily office attire. Taehyung thinks it’s designer, stylized into looking like something less ostentatious. He’s wearing a pair of shades, hair pushed away from his face. Taehyung can’t help but appreciate him, aesthetically and objectively. Entirely objective.
“Please tell me we’re going to eat first,” Taehyung says, when he realizes he’s been staring at Seokjin for a little too long.
Seokjin eyes flicker to him. “Have you not eaten yet?”
“No,” Taehyung answers. “I didn’t feel like cooking.”
“It’s not healthy to skip meals. And it's too late in the day for that. Luckily for you, we are going to eat.”
Taehyung isn’t embarrassed at being scolded, even if it’s by Seokjin whose voice could make even the most banal topics worth hearing. His squirming is attributed to his empty stomach and nothing more.
—
Parking down the street from an unfamiliar complex, Taehyung watches Seokjin walk around to the passengers side to open his door. His easy stride is a show in and of itself, and Taehyung takes in the slim cut of his frame as it moves through the daylight. He accepts Seokjin’s offered arm with an easy smile, fingers curling into the soft give of his coat. He’s dressed more casually today, a sea of dark blues as usual, but softer fabrics, a flash of winter in the backdrop of spring.
Seokjin had asked him to bring a baseball cap, for the sake of remaining inconspicuous. When he’d brought up the argument of wanting to be seen, Seokjin had laughed. “ Nothing is more conspicuous than desperately trying to hide your identity .”
Wherever they are is beautiful, and busy, full of couples and families. Taehyung and Seokjin almost blend in with the rest of them as they walk arm in arm. Their ‘low-profile’ attire stands out, just as Seokjin said it would.
“Where are we going?” Taehyung murmurs near Seokjin’s ear, making sure to appear as affectionate about it as possible. “Will anyone see us?” Seokjin quickly picks up on what he’s doing, flashing a smile as he indulgently tilts his head to make it easier for Taehyung.
Taehyung pulls away, neck warm. Seokjin takes his turn leaning into him, breath ghosting the shell of his ear. “I’m around here often,” he says vaguely. “We’re in Park Jimin’s neighborhood, as well as a few big-names. There may or may not be people around who are hoping to get a photo-op.”
The proximity clouding his thoughts momentarily, Taehyung can’t find his words. “Oh.”
“I might have also had someone tip them off that I'd be around today. They’ll have a field day seeing you on my arm, though.”
For some reason, the reminder, or rather direct mentioning of Taehyung as arm candy to someone like Seokjin, has something in his stomach bottoming out.
“There’s a lot of thought that goes into this,” Taehyung says. His voice only comes out slightly shaky.
The sun is out, but there’s still a noticeable chill in the air. Taehyung is relieved when Seokjin says they’re there.
“No one took our picture,” Taehyung notes, resisting the urge to look around and search for it obviously.
“They did. They’re not exactly paparazzi, and they’re a lot less invasive when they decide to be. Usually when there’s coordination on the party being photograph’s part.”
“Oh.” Taehyung clutches at Seokjin’s arm a little tighter.
“I saw one of them on our way in, I think you were distracted with a baby.”
Taehyung remembers seeing a few babies, being pushed along in their strollers with mothers and father, and he had melted over every single one of them.
“It was cute,” Seokjin says, smiling faintly, eyes still ahead of them. Taehyung ducks his head.
—
Taehyung’s first impression of Park Jimin is pretty . It's an underwhelming description for what Jimin really is, which is pretty and kind and easy to get along with. He makes it hard for Taehyung to feel appropriately reserved—especially for a first meeting.
“Wow, you’re attractive.” Is one of the first things Jimin says to him.
“Thank you.” Taehyung laughs. “So are you.”
“And so cute,” Jimin coos, forcibly pulling him from Seokjin’s grasp, who is silent beside him. Taehyung follows Jimin, pleasantly confused.
“I didn’t realize this was a two for one outing,” Taehyung tells him as they sit at the table, an impressive amount of food already set out. “Seokjin-ssi sent me your contact information just the other day.” Taehyung explains.
“You can thank me for our meeting today, Taehyung. Seokjin-hyung wouldn’t give me your number,” he says rather petulantly. “Something about not overwhelming you, but I’m impatient.”
Taehyung nods along at Jimin’s words, hands tucked on his lap politely, despite the hungry way he’s eyeing the food. Jimin notices, laughing lightly at his wandering gaze.
“Please help yourself, hyung helped me with it.”
Seokjin, who has yet to say a single word, pulls a seat out next to Taehyung; his expression is perfect indifference.
“Maybe we should wait for Seokjin-ssi,” Taehyung says, eyes flitting between Seokjin and Jimin.
“Hyung, why are you in a mood? You’re stressing Taehyungie out.” Jimin looks at him, assessing. ”Can I call you that? How old are you?”
“I was born in ninety-five,” Taehyung says.
“Me too.” Jimin brings a finger up against his mouth. “You can speak casually with me. Hyung, stop pouting.”
Jimin is hard to keep up with, Taehyung thinks. That, or he’s just slow. “Seokjin-ssi is pouting…?” Taehyung peaks at Seokjin’s face, but he still looks impassive. Jimin does know him better, however, must be able to see what Taehyung can’t.
“I’m not,” Seokjin says, tone lacking inflection. Taehyung frowns, but when Seokjin’s gaze falls to his own, his eyes soften. “Jimin’s attention is hard to compete with. He’s exaggerating about me sulking, though. Don’t listen to anything he says.”
This is surprising, and Taehyung tilts his head in wonder at the thought. “Okay,” he says, confused. He refocuses on the food, reaching for the chopsticks, but before he can finish filling his plate, Seokjin has a piece of meat on his own and offers a bite.
“Try this,” Seokjin says lowly. Taehyung leans forwards and parts his lips.
“Yum,” Taehyung says, before he’s even finished chewing. It’s very good.
“I made it,” Seokjin says smugly. Taehyung remembers Jimin is still sitting a few feet away and glances at him, only to find him looking at them with visible amusement.
“Hyung is a great cook,” Jimin says. “I guess he wanted you to know that.”
Taehyung smiles back, slightly more confused than before.
—
Their guise momentarily on hold while they were out of the public eye, and Jimin being someone Seokjin wanted Taehyung to acquaint himself with, Taehyung anticipates Seokjin suggesting the two of them talk alone for a while. He never does, and Taehyung doesn’t say anything about it, because despite Jimin’s overwhelmingly positive and friendly demeanor, he thinks he’d be greatly overwhelmed if left alone with him so soon. Jimin does get Taehyung’s number though, and Taehyung promises to not wait too long before contacting him to meet.
“I might need to find a new manager,” Taehyung tells him, “And a new agent, so you’re really helping me out.”
Jimin nods. “Anything you need, just let me know.”
“Anything work-related,” Seokjin cuts in, on the sofa nearby. “Jimin is good at what he does. Which is many things at once.”
“You flatter me, hyung. Keep going.” Jimin bats his lashes. Taehyung laughs. “But I might keep him. Taehyung seems a lot nicer than the assholes I have to work with day in and out. I want a handsome friend to parade around too.”
Seokjin sighs out of his nose, one of his eyebrows ticking. “Right.”
“Anyway, as much as I enjoyed your company Taehyung-ah, you should probably continue your date. Call me soon, okay?”
“Yes I will. Thank you for having me.” He bows and Jimin smiles, his eyes disappearing as he does. Taehyung does see them becoming good friends.
He’s lead to the door by Jimin, who has him too distracted to see what Seokjin is doing behind them.
“Let me,” Seokjin says, Taehyung’s coat held open for him. He’s slightly struck by the gesture, because there’s no need for it. Jimin knows they’re not really together, but he still steps forward and lets Seokjin help him. His hands slide over his shoulders and slightly down his back as he presses the coat flat, Taehyung holding his breath as he does.
“Thank you,” Taehyung says, because that’s probably something he should say. Seokjin hums.
Jimin waves them off with a smile still on his face.
Their walk back to Seokjin’s car is almost the same, save for Taehyung’s earlier oblivious attitude. He hadn’t realized how conscientious of these things people in the public eye probably were — possibly all of the time. Seokjin notices, and in an act of kindness Taehyung finds cute, points to a small dog being walked along on a leash.
“What a cutie,” Taehyung coos. “I want a dog. Someday.”
“You’ll have one,” Seokjin says. “And more.”
“Always so confident,” Taehyung shakes his head. The small dog’s little trot quickly distract him.
—
The second part of their date gives Taehyung pause. “I thought your comment about my wardrobe was a joke,” he deadpans, slightly annoyed.
“It was a joke, but I still wanted to buy you something.” Seokjin leads him inside the store.
The way Seokjin flips his demeanor so completely from one moment to the next makes Taehyung feel funny. Casual to domineering. It’s a stark reminder of their differences in background, and Taehyung isn’t so sure he likes it; at least it’s grounding to the reality of the situation.
“Hello Mr. Kim,” a young man greets. He bows to Taehyung, who returns it.
“This is Kim Taehyung. We have an appointment for a suit fitting in a few minutes.”
“Would you like anything to drink while you wait?”
“My usual, please. Taehyung, would you like anything?”
“I’m fine with water, thanks.”
The attendant leaves them alone, and Seokjin takes Taehyung to a decorated waiting area, a platform in the center of the room. The store they’re in sells suits and coats, Taehyung eyeing them on the racks. He dreads to think how much they cost.
“You’re buying me a suit?” Taehyung asks, his legs restless beneath him. Whatever he’d been expecting today, it wasn’t this. A meal with Jimin, who seemed to be genuinely close to Seokjin, and now a suit fitting in a place Taehyung may as well be allergic to.
“I’m having a suit made for you,” Seokjin corrects. “I don’t think anything off rack is your style.”
Taehyung isn’t sure how to take that, and maybe Seokjin senses that because he adds, “If you’re going to be seen with me and made to dress up, you may as well have something you’d actually enjoy wearing.”
“That’s very nice of you,” Taehyung says, feeling slightly off kilter. “You think you have a sense for my style already?”
Seokjin’s lips quirk, but he doesn’t say anything more.
He suppresses the loud and sudden urge to argue against this. It’s ultimately an expense that benefits Seokjin as much as it does Taehyung, but he still feels weird about all of this. Maybe he should’ve taken more time to consider how this was actually going to impact him, but no amount of thinking could have done much in the way of preparing him. It's not like he had any point of reference.
“Your water,” the man from earlier says, and Taehyung snaps back to reality. He takes the offered bottle distractedly. He sees him hand something to Seokjin as well, still lost in thought.
Eventually someone comes to take his measurements. There’s no one here except for Seokjin, but for what his presence alone is worth, Taehyung may as well be standing in front of an audience of a thousand. His eyes burn into him, and Taehyung allows him second long glances through the mirror every so often. Seokjin is always looking at him.
“Arms up, Mr. Kim.” Taehyung raises his arm from where he’d been dropping it. Seokjin watches impassively from his spot, drink in hand. Impassively feels incorrect despite his expression remaining utterly unreadable. Somehow Taehyung is certain that he’s not nearly as blasé as he leads to believe.
The seamstress measures him meticulously but efficiently, which is a relief considering Seokjin… existing near him.
“What style of suit were you looking to have made?” The woman asks Seokjin, who simply raises an eyebrow at Taehyung.
“I’d better leave this to you,” Taehyung says with an undercurrent of attitude. “Since you know my style so well.”
More amused than anything, Seokjin nods. He stands up and asks her if they can speak somewhere privately, and Taehyung narrows his eyes as they step away to discuss what Seokjin wants made. He’s impressed at his resounding confidence that he’ll get it right, if nothing else.
Seokjin comes back not long after, mouth still quirked and eyes lit with something. It’s warm, inviting even, and Taehyung feels his tense shoulders drop.
—
“Thank you for enduring that,” Seokjin says. The day is draining into a mixture of oranges now, fading light cast between buildings. Taehyung watches the world from inside Seokjin’s car, a little amazed at it all.
“I didn’t… endure. I appreciate you buying me a suit.” Taehyung couldn’t imagine himself doing it for any reason on his own, but Seokjin made it more than bearable. He’s genuinely grateful, too.
“You wear your emotions on your sleeve.”
Taehyung huffs. “You seem to do the opposite. Also, actors are known for being dramatic.”
“That’s exactly why I’m as good at my job as I am, Taehyung.”
“Hmm. Let's learn from each other, okay?” Taehyung jokes, voice soft. He leans against the plush car seat, turning so that he’s facing Seokjin more than the windshield.
Seokjin glances his way, putting the car into reverse. “Alright.”
—
Taehyung gets a call back. He’s excited, and even his manager seems impressed, which is something.
It goes well too, and Taehyung wants to share the good news. He lets Hoseok and Namjoon know through their group chat, which they’ll get around to responding to eventually, but in the meantime… he hits Seokjin’s contact name, breath stuck in his throat as it rings.
Seokjin answers a moment later. “Taehyung?”
“Seokjin-ssi,” Taehyung greets excitedly. “I got a call back for that audition the other day.”
“That’s amazing,” Seokjin says, and he sounds genuinely excited for him. “I knew you would.”
“Thanks. Fingers crossed for the second round. I’ll, um, let you know about that too.”
“Mm, please do.”
There’s a pause, where neither of them seem sure what to say. There isn't anything to say, actually. Maybe he doesn't want the conversation to end, but what does that say for Seokjin?
Most likely, Taehyung’s in the business of reading into things.
“I—while I have you,” Seokjin says quickly, like he’s just remembered. “I have a dinner, next week. I was hoping you’d join me. Your suit should be ready by then.”
“Oh, yeah, of course. As long as it doesn’t interfere with anything else I’ve got going on, work-wise. I’m happy to.”
“Good, good. I’ll let you know, then.” Another pause.
“Okay,” Taehyung says, before laughing. “Sorry.”
“Is something funny?” Seokjin asks, though it's light.
“You’re funny.” Taehyung laughs again. “So serious all the time. Do you act like this with Jimin?”
“No,” Seokjin is quick to deny it, but he sounds uncertain. “And don't ask him about it.”
“Don’t be embarrassed. It's part of your charm.” Taehyung smothers his smile into the palm of his hand.
“So you think I’m charming.” And Seokjin’s right back to light teasing and boundless confidence.
Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Bye.”
Back home, Taehyung decides his sponsorship meeting going so terribly was a blessing in disguise.
***
Truthfully, Seokjin has never been one for pretenses. The need to lie is resolved when keeping his cards close to his chest. Other things he dislikes: beating around the bush, or pretending to be something he’s not. Unfortunately, he happens to be incredibly good at all of these.
Though it might be more accurate to say people saw what they wanted to. Him and Taehyung out in public, arm and arm, seemed to be all it took to convince someone that they were more than friends, because there are articles about it in record time. If people saw what they wanted to, then he’d perfected guessing what that was.
Jeongguk sends him one of the first leaks over text, captionless, sometime after Seokjin assumes anyone respectable has long since gone to bed. He’s not in the office tonight, but he’s still lost track of time, another thing he’s arguably good at.
He gives a thumbs up react, not intending on opening it—until he sees the preview image. It’s slightly pixelated and blurry, but he can make it out. Him and Taehyung pressed together, arms linked, as they made their way to Jimin’s apartment complex. Another with Taehyung leaning away and towards a passing family, smile overtaking his features as he melts over a baby. Seokjin had been anticipating this photo, and he smiles at it. He has shades on in the picture, though he has the feeling he’d probably been bordering on genuine fondness then, too. His smile dims.
Dangerous, he thinks. Or at the very least ill-advised, because he isn’t not sure there’s a worse idea than growing attached to his fake boyfriend. Taehyung was easy to get along with, and Seokjin appreciated his transparency. Thought he was funny. And attractive.
He sighs, leaning back into the sofa. He’s alone in his apartment, lights off after he’d fallen asleep while the sun had still been up. He’d woken up to the notification from Jeongguk, and in the pale glow of city night light, Seokjin wonders if he hates lying as much as he’d always thought. Taehyung made it easy to doubt himself.
—
Seokjin makes sure Taehyung has an appointment for suit tailoring for any necessary adjustments before their dinner. Taehyung sends him several thumbs down emojis throughout the day, since he couldn’t be there in person to receive his pouting.
He asks for a picture and receives three thumbs down in a single message, which he guesses is a solid no.
Taehyung is unenthusiastic about it, which Seokjin doesn’t blame him for. And while his confidence about deciding on something Taehyung liked remains steadfast, he understands the skepticism.
Two days later, he’s unsurprised to see his choice was an aesthetically pleasing one, if nothing else.
Seokjin’s gaze sweeps over him. Anyone would look put-together under the right circumstances, in the right lighting and makeup and clothing—clothing tailored for them at that—but Taehyung surpasses it all. He has presence, confidence, both of which are not something any amount of smoke and mirrors can falsify. He looks good, to say the least. Seokjin anticipates him stealing the attention from everyone else in the room.
“So. I think it looks nice,” Taehyung says, glancing at himself, “But the rich stuff takes getting used to.”
Seokjin raises his brows. “Forget that. You look incredible.”
Taehyung laughs, rolling his eyes. “You’re openly admitting your attraction to me now?”
“Say things with conviction or don’t say them at all,” Seokjin says, opening Taehyung’s door for him.
—
Dinner is being hosted at one of his associates' homes, toeing the line of formal enough that Seokjin would normally truly dread the idea. He’s still far from excited, though Taehyung, unfamiliar with everything, is captivated by details Seokjin has long since grown to find boring, insignificant, or otherwise not worth considering at all.
It’s unexpected, in the way Taehyung often is.
“Seokjin-ssi, please invite me to these even after we end our deal,” Taehyung says, staring wide eyed at the food and drinks. It's an open bar, but Seokjin has learned that Taehyung doesn’t drink often, or seem to enjoy it. But he does like trying new things, and Seokjin sets out to find something he’ll like.
“No hard liquor,” Taehyung says to him. “I want something that doesn’t taste alcoholic. That doesn’t taste gross, at least.”
“So many demands.” Seokjin sighs, acting put upon, even while he’s the opposite. He’s already wracking his brain trying to think of something. “Alcohol that tastes like juice is actually the most dangerous,” he points out.
Unconcerned with the warning, Seokjin sets off to make him something.
He’s gone maybe five minutes before returning. It takes him longer to spot Taehyung in the small crowd of people than it should, expecting to find him as alone as he’d left him, only to note that Taehyung has gathered an audience.
“Seokjin-ssi invited you?” One of them ask, amazed at the idea.
“Yes,” Taehyung says, his smile genuine and shy. He’s been cornered by his nosy coworkers, and Seokjin sighs, pointedly clearing his throat as he approaches. A couple of them part way for him to reassume his earlier post by Taehyung’s side. Not hesitating once he does, Seokjin wraps an arm around his waist, handing Taehyung his drink.
“I think you’ll like this one,” Seokjin says lowly, aware of the attention on them. “I tasted it for you.” Taehyung doesn't need to know Seokjin normally avoids anything that fruity like the plague.
Taehyung’s mouth tilts into a smile. Seokjin watches his expression attentively. “This is really good, thank you,” he says, and to Seokjin’s surprise, leans in to kiss him, just a brush over the corner of his mouth.
“It’s nothing,” Seokjin says, something twisting up in his gut.
A beat passes, two. Seokjin should say something instead of standing here with what is definitely a dumb look on his face. “Can I ask why half of the dinner guests were bothering you?” Their audience are throwing him looks equal parts amused and bewildered.
“This is rare,” Daewon says. “We might never get an opportunity like this again.”
They're pressed close enough together that Taehyung giving an amused huff is grounding.
“What makes you think you deserve to know about me,” Seokjin jokes. Half jokes.
He feels Taehyung shake with silent laughter, and Seokjin turns his attention back to him. “You can't blame him,” Taehyung says. “It’s not easy having so many people pay attention to you. I’m surprised anyone can deal with it at all, actually.”
Another twist in his gut, Seokjin shifts his weight from one foot to the other. Maybe he’s hungry. “I was growing impatient,” Seokjin blurts, without entirely meaning to. “Taehyung is special. I wanted to show him off.”
The semi circle of people around them falls quiet, though Seokjin doesn’t notice. Taehyung is looking between his eyes with that glimmer in his own that Seokjin can’t decide is something he’s ever seen on anyone else before. Do people’s eyes really sparkle, or was he losing his sense.
A low whistle breaks through the moment, and Seokjin turns to two new and familiar faces. Jeongguk stands in a clean-cut black suit, Jimin by his side. Much like Seokjin and Taehyung, Jeongguk’s arm is around Jimin’s waist, the two of them perpetually clingy.
“Hello, hyung.” Jeongguk says, and Seokjin turns in time to catch Taehyung piece together Jimin’s relation to him.
“Jimin-ah,“ Taehyung says excitedly, and Seokjin isn’t bothered by Taehyung’s immediate want to pull away. Obviously he’s going to greet Jimin, since they’re sort-of friends now. Work acquaintances? Seokjin wishes that’s all they were, but Jimin clearly had other plans.
“Taehyung-ah!” Jimin launches at him, pulling him into a quick hug, spinning him around to introduce him to his boyfriend. The small crowd they’d gathered seem to realize they’ve been dismissed, and disperse save for Daewon, who’s watching the entire exchange with a pensive look on his face, one hand in his pants pocket. Seokjin glances at him briefly, but keeps his attention on Taehyung.
“And this is Jeongguk,” Jimin says, leaning into Jeongguk’s side for a brief moment. Jeongguk smiles down at him, and Seokjin can’t help but feel soft for them. They’ve been together since Jeongguk was eighteen, Jimin not much older. He still remembers the way they’d obviously but painfully flirted for a time before that. Seokjin isn’t exactly envious of it, because he can’t realistically imagine the same for himself.
Jeongguk introduces himself, and Taehyung bows, smiling and rosy-cheeked, still clutching the drink Seokjin had brought over for him. His eyes are still shining.
“I can’t believe this. Not only did you fall for someone, and brought them to meet us, but you’re a sap. A romantic .” Daewon whispers the last part conspiratorially. Seokjin inexplicably wants to smile.
“I have the power to fire you.”
Daewon laughs. “It’s cute, which is not a word I would have ever thought to associate with you.”
“Thanks,” Seokjin deadpans.
“You’ve cultivated that brand for yourself, don’t pretend it bothers you.”
Seokjin agrees, but watching Taehyung laugh with his brother and Jimin, has to question that yet again. Taehyung’s bubbling laughter filters through the air, and Seokjin swallows down the swell of—his mind lags to fill in the gap. It sits heavy in his mouth.