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ksbwnotes · 3 years

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Chapter 7

Ahhh next chapter is...going to brutalize my soul...

1. At first glance, this does seem really stupid, but it fits--especially with Bum’s mentality

Bum is about to do something super scary. He is going to try and run away from a serial killer with two broken legs. Like. That is fucking terrifying. Trying to do something to calm himself down before he leaves makes sense, even if it’s something as unimportant as trying to change clothes.

And it will also make him stand out less, which will cause less people to stare at him and question him, which would make him even more nervous. After the ordeal he went through, the last thing he wants to deal with is the judgmental stares of strangers.

This is also a way for him to keep Sangwoo’s secret safe. It doesn’t even seem to occur to him to rat out Sangwoo, which...that can say multiple things about him. He obviously still holds affection for Sangwoo (or, well, not Sangwoo but the sweet treatment he can sometimes get from Sangwoo), so he doesn’t want to see Sangwoo in jail.

He also probably doesn’t really...care about the murders Sangwoo committed. He feels morally repulsed about it, which is why he can’t do it himself even under dire circumstances that would warrant these measures, but on a personal level, that part doesn’t bother him so much as the fact that it’s Sangwoo doing the killing. I honestly believe that if Sangwoo treated Bum lovingly and was exclusive with him, Bum would’ve accepted Sangwoo’s serial killer tendencies and made sure there was no way Sangwoo could get caught.

2. Yes, why don’t we fkkn pull out the dead bodies, my clothes might be in there somewhere

What the fuck Bum, oh my god. OTL

Or maybe Bum subconsciously knows his mind is playing tricks on him and that it’s fake. Or maybe he really does think it could be real, but he doesn’t want it to be, so he opens up to make sure.

But what weirds me out the most is the fact that Bum doesn’t actually...respond when he seemingly pulls out an arm and dismembered limbs fall out. No desire to vomit. No horror. Only, he’s more confused and grossed out, but he seems more...detached from the situation than anything else. Which is even weirder when I consider how Bum is very vividly/visually piecing together how these clothes once belonged to women who were alive.

3. Honestly, I really want to know more about Sangwoo as a serial killer

Heeyyyy CEO girl’s undies are there too.

Here, we have clothes from what I can assume are the clothes of all the women Sangwoo murdered. But the moment Bum enters the picture, we don’t see anything explicit like Sangwoo bringing home women to kill them. So it makes these clothes have this air of...mystery. Like. If these are from old kills, we can assume that Sangwoo already put them through the laundry, so why are they in the laundry again? And if they are new kills, then why the heck isn’t there any explicit mentions of them, cuz Koogi isn’t the type to shy away from that?

If the former, I can assume that, maybe, Sangwoo is planning to dress Bum up in these clothes then try and fuck him in it. This might be the ‘reward’ he was thinking up had Bum not crossed the line. Actually...oh my god, this might be a mix of girls he has killed in the past + his mom’s clothes...Sangwoo...

ANYWAYS, in the latter...so, this is more or less through Bum’s eyes, so the lack of portrayal for Sangwoo’s kills could reflect Bum’s denial. He doesn’t want to see it happening, doesn’t want to connect the killing with Sangwoo--especially since it drives home just how close he is to getting killed by Sangwoo--so we don’t get to see that in his narrative.

4. God, this man does not have a good life doesn’t he

Bum is obviously conflicted. No matter what he chooses, it’s hell for him either way. The choices here is either the devil he has known for years--one he knows that he can survive--or an entirely unknown devil that can give him what he wants, but most likely before that devil kills him.

[As an aside, honestly, I’d probably stay with Sangwoo if those were my only two choices...Sangwoo seems like he can be manipulated if you can play his game right and there could even be some merit to keeping him together. But with Bum’s uncle, we’d both be in a losing game because he’s useless. However, I won’t deny that uncle here is the safest choice, even if I don’t get anything out of it in the end]

5. Goddamn Koogi, fkkn applaud you

Seriously, the way Koogi portrays Bum’s thought processes are amazing.

So, Bum obviously has some...sort of psychotic disorder because these visual and auditory hallucinations are another level. The thing is, Bum also seems to know very well that they aren’t real. With psychosis, the person usually can’t discern it from reality. In a way, it becomes their reality. Sangwoo seems to match this definition more actually, but I can’t say for sure because we haven’t gotten the in-depth look into his hallucinations like Bum here.

Anyways, going on, rather than a psychotic break from reality, it’s more like this is Bum’s way of parsing out his thoughts because, for whatever reason, he’s unable to think them through internally. Which fits with how indecisive he can be and how his actions can change on a dime.

Bum is a more...instinctual person. Like how Sangwoo seems to react in real time to his surroundings and situations, Bum reacts based on learned habits, like a broken record on repeat. It makes it difficult for him to adapt to situations unless he has, in some way, experienced it before. Both of them respond instinctually, but for Sangwoo, it’s with calculated anger, him trying to come up on top and make it so that he can never feel powerless.

But for Bum, he responds sexually. I don’t know if his uncle has always been sexually abusing him because if not, then I’m not sure where Bum’s hypersexuality comes from--unless it came due to not having any sexual experience until his uncle raped him later in life.

Either way, since Bum believes he has literally nothing to offer but his body--and it can also give him pleasure in the meanwhile, which is probably the only times he gets a dopamine release--that is Bum’s primary response.

6. Oooffff Bum’s thoughts in literally plain view

Bum is still holding onto his image of Sangwoo, as well as the sweet moments he had with him. Because that is obviously what Bum wants, more than anything. But the thing is, Bum knows that Sangwoo doesn’t actually love him. Sangwoo will end up killing him if he crosses the line--not just the metaphorical one Sangwoo ‘carved’ on the wooden floor. But every single line that Sangwoo draws up in the future as well.

With his uncle, if he crosses the line, then what he gets is a beating, but for the most part, he’s ignored. He’s able to go outside. If he keeps to himself, his uncle won’t care about him outside of whatever physical ‘sessions’. But with Sangwoo, if he crosses the line, then he’s useless. Killing him will be give Sangwoo more entertainment than keeping him alive. And there are so many lines Bum can’t cross, to a point where he won’t be able to live a life. With his uncle, it’s just about surviving certain moments. With Sangwoo, it’s about surviving second by second. Especially since he knows Sangwoo is a serial killer, so I think subconsciously, Bum knows Sangwoo can’t keep him alive if he doesn’t follow the rules.

7. Oh, wow, scratch my earlier comment, so Bum actually did have a psychotic break lol

...Though, it’s still like Bum knows that something is off about what he’s seeing.

He’s never had qualms about screaming for his life. We yell at Sangwoo not to break his leg, he whines about his broken leg, he complains to Sangwoo when being washed in the tub, and in the next chapter, he even calls Sangwoo a motherfucker.

So...why is it that, when he’s about to be killed, he doesn’t yell out to Sangwoo or beg to him?

Yes, he’s visually hallucinating (or whatever term is suppose to apply here arjgoerjgoe) time being faster than it actually is, but it’s still as if a part of him knows that it isn’t Sangwoo in front of him. It’s like he’s lost in his visualizations of a story where Sangwoo does kill him, like the visceral reaction a watcher has to a horror movie they get too into.

8. Wow, this really shows a more...attached reaction to leaving Sangwoo

Quietly bidding adieu to Sangwoo’s presence gives this feeling that Bum doesn’t actually want to leave. But he also wants to survive. It’s similar to how suicidal people don’t want die, they just want to escape the pain.

9. How people reacted once the shutdown ended lololol

Oh god imagine if KS happened during the pandemic O_O

ANYWAYS. The fact that Bum doesn’t fkkn check to see if Sangwoo is there. The fact that he doesn’t keep a hand on the door handle so that he could close the door. The fact that he doesn’t do it slowly and quietly.

No seriously, so many times and this one is probably the worst. Bum continuously does things that make it seem like he wants to get caught. It’s like he doesn’t fully commit to his plan.

It’s more like...instead of wanting to escape, he just wants to see the outside world. He wants to go outside again. He doesn’t want to get beaten and have his life threatened an inch of his life. But, again, he doesn’t want to actually leave.

So when he sees Sangwoo sitting there, he doesn’t...do anything. It’s like his instinct is to stay where Sangwoo is. Even in the face of being outside, the first thing he does is appeal to Sangwoo, THEN to crawl away begging for help when he realizes that this will be his last time being able to go outside.

But again, first instinct was to beg for Sangwoo’s forgiveness. In that triad of instincts, Bum’s is sexual first, social second, with fkkn self-preservation as his blind oh my god.

10. Uh wait

Is Sangwoo even singing? Or is he just listening to music right now?? I’d say more on this, but there’ll be a LOT to unpack in the next chapter, so I’ll just end it here.

#chapter 7 #volume 1

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stuffedmetalbutterfly · 4 years

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Living with PCOS.

Warning: long post a head.

I was diagnosed with pcos last year 2nd of July. I couldn't forget that day because finally there was an explanation, a reason why I'm feeling things, why I feel different. You'll find out why.

Growing up i was the only girl in our house. Being a kid was easy, i don't really have an older sister compare what was the norms when it comes to my developing body. I thought wearing baby bra at second grade was normal until i found out all my friends just wears sando.

Then comes my third grade, another development came to my body. My first period.

At first it was just a blood spot on my undies. I grew up having UTI so i thought maybe it's from my UTI. So i decided to ignore it and went on my usual routine. Go to school and then go home. The following day was interesting though, upon coming home from school. I started feeling something different, my undies feel wet but not from pee. Immediately went to my room and when i lifted up my skirt i saw blood on my shorts. I was shocked and i told my nana what was happening. She told me that i already got my period. Of course everyone in the family was shocked. They believe i got my period too soon. I was just roughly 8-9 years old at that time.

But i always remember dealing with heavy period flow that will last for like 4-5 days. It was frustrating. I was always scared when I'm at school because I don't want to get blood stains on my uniform.

I also remember having intense breakouts on my face. Like having multiple big acnes all over my face. I tried different soaps and creams to relieve the pimples but things just got from worse to worst. Soon my whole cheeks and forehead are red from the pimples. It was disgusting. And it took toll on my 12 year old self. I began losing self confidence because of how i look. I also noticed that i have this ugly hairs on my forearms and my legs.

During my first year in highschool, i notice my period has these weird pattern. Like i would have my period for over 2 months and then the following 2 months i would have no period. And then i would have my period again but i would have these intense pain on my lower abdomen. Little did i was having dysmenorrhea at that time. I was still in highschool so ask my health teacher if what's happening to me was normal. She told me that my menstrual cycle was called as irregular cycle because normally menstruation would come after 28 days. Mine was a little bit off schedule. She told me that i should go see a doctor to correct my menstrual cycle. She also told me not to worry that much because I was still yound and probably my body was just getting used to having menstruation. And maybe overtime my menstrual cycle would become regular.

And with that in mind. I decided not to ask my mom to go to a doctor and wait till my body adjust to the regular menstrual phase. And for a while it did. Like i was regular for like few months but my acne was still there, i also have these acne on my back. My body hairs becoming even more noticeable especially on my legs. Needless to say i had endure my highschool life despite of those things.

Then come my college life. I took interest in a health care program. It was pretty busy. I had to keep up with the schedules at school that it was easy to forget my period. Sometimes i don't know i had my period for a month, I'm confused on whether my period hasn't come or if it had. Eventually when people will ask me about my period i will always say that I'm irregular and when i do, i frequently experience it with dysmenorrhea.

I knew i had to do something. But i keep putting it off because of my busy schedule at the university. (I was in five year program mind you.) I even find it very convenient when my period wouldn't come because i didn't have to worry about bringing extra set of uniform in case i had blood stains. During the first 4 years of my college life my menstrual cycle was like an irregular regular, wherein i would have my period for 5 days (heavy flow) for the consecutive 2 months. And then i would have no menstruation for the next 2 months after that. I had also gain weight during those 4 years.

I developed these bad habit of stress eating. Whenever i feel stress over school work, i would eat like a lot of food. I also stress eat whenever i hadn't got a chance to sleep due to school work. Yes it was that busy. I had to be up all night doing academic work, and then get ready for school the following day. To keep up with that lifestyle i usually eat A LOT. But it was all worth it because i usually finish being one of the top students of courses of my program, the only down side of it the irregular menstrual cycle with the much more intense dysmenorrhea and the gaining weight.

Fast forward to my 5th year, the 5th year of the program at university was a 10 month period of internship to different clinics and hospitals. If the first 4 years of my college life was toxic. The transition of that and to first few months of the internship was even more toxic. There's this medical examination, the compre exams, my research papers. Again it was easy to lose track of my period.

I was on my 4th month of internship (July 2019), when i noticed that i haven't got my period. When i check the calendar i realized i haven't got my period for the past 7 months. That was even before my pre internship period. Luckily i had a day off that month because the clinic had to close.

I immediately took the chance and went to the hospital to have and OB gyn check up. I remember getting there alone because my mom was at work that time. I also remember waiting in line and being interviewed 2 times; one when i was booking for a gynecologist, and the second one was when i was interviewed by my own gynecologist. On those both times i remember having ask the same question. "Am i sure that i was not pregnant." Of course i knew it will eventually be ask because I didn't got my period for 7 months. I answered no, sure I'm not pregnant. After being interviewed by my gynecologist. I was advised to undergo ultrasound. When the results came back, my gynecologist informed me that i was positive for having PCOS or the polycystic ovarian syndrome. There was it. The answer why i was gaining weight fast, the irregular menstrual cycle, the excessive body hairs, the intense dysmenorrhea. My gynecologist explained what was happening to my body and why I wasn't having my period for the fast few months. My doctor also explained that i need to lose weight and that there is a possibility that i would have difficulty getting pregnant. I wasn't planning on getting pregnant that time but heck i got emotional. I cried. And even for the fact that i went there alone made me even more emotional. my doctor gave me this a set of medication and i was advised to come back on the first that i got my period. I did as i was told, I took the meds for 7 days. And i did my usual routine of going to my internship duty. When my first day of period came, i went back to my genecologist and then she prescribed pills after explaining to me the mechanism of how the pills work and it's potential side effects which is gaining more weight. How fun. But since it was supposed to regulate my menstrual cycle and improves my dysmenorrhea, i decided to take the pills.

My menstrual cycle came back and now i do have a regular cycle but that was except for the fact that i was getting really light flow of dark red blood that will last for only 3 days.

Also i decided to try several changes in my diet, the only diet that was effective for me was the ketogenic diet. It's a low card diet. I did that for a few months. But i had to eventually stop it because it took toll on my studies. I find it hard to absorb information and i wasn't as sharp as i used to be prior to my keto diet. A month after stopping this diet immediately gain weight as fast as i lose weight. I lost 6 kilos during keto for 4 months. Then when i stopped keto i immediately gain 2 kilos in just one month. How freaking sad.

Currently, 9 months after being diagnosed with pcos. I'm still taking my pills despite the advice of my doctor to take it only for 6 months, because i still haven't regulate my menstrual cycle. I'm still looking for other diet that wouldn't make it hard for me to study. I also notice that as i took the pills longer. My emotional state becomes harder to control. I'm still looking ways for improvement, hopefully soon I stumble upon effective ways for me with less the troubles. My advice for now to other women out there with the same condition as mine, it's not the end. And being diagnosed with pcos doesn't mean we won't have kids in the future. We will just find it a bit hard to conceived. Also it really helps when you talk about what your feeling. There's a lot of PCOS support groups out there that has the same condition as we are. And that's when you'll know that you are not alone in this journey. You are not alone in this battle. You are a warrior and you can win this.

#PCOS, #PCOSstory, #PCOSwarrior, #MyLifeWithPCOS, #PolicysticOvarianSyndrome

#online journal, #storytime

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bangbangbangtanbys · 7 years

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prince!namjoon

basically my thoughts on prince kim namjoon

namjoon is a scholarly prince, always reading reading reading and has a stack of books by his nightstand or on the ground

every morning he nearly trips over the encyclopedia set of philosophy on the ground next to his bed

gets to lessons right on time but they always go overtime bc he wants to learn more about the world

annoys his tutors by asking too many questions, so they give him their supplies and help guide him to other resources

he’s just prolonging his studies bc he doesn’t want to attend dance lessons, where his clumsy feet always get the best of him

will read books and books about dancing late at night but for some reason they don’t translate to his body

hates horseback riding

talks to the castle staff with respect and proper honorifics

is on his parent’s court of advisors, who treat him just the same even though he’s the youngest there

he likes going to public events and is usually called upon for a speech

very diplomatic and proper, some of the younger castle staff members are scared of him because of his height and intelligence so when someone accidentally spills tea on him, they think they’re in for a loud reprimanding but nO he apologizes too and helps clean it up, no yelling involved

he’s always tripping and breaking or tearing something in the castle

last week it was a page from his history book (he shed a tear at that), he chipped a tea cup and shattered another, and ripped a hole in a new blouse

he’d prefer wearing basic, plain clothes, but his mother’s always persuading him to wear clothes imported from various countries

but he’s too lanky and tall and so his clothes always need to be hemmed

and that’s how he knows you!! bc your one of the seamstresses in the castle

you’re quick and precise with a needle and thread and you always find yourself repairing his shirts when there’s snags or holes and patching his pants when they’re ripped

bc on more than one occasion, this boy may or may not have ripped his trousers because they’re just too short on him

like the hemline is wayyyy above his ankles and they’re so short but yet they fit him so well up top (tall ppl problems smh)

and so when he’s changed out of his ripped clothes, he personally takes them down to the seamstresses’ room down by the lower levels

he’ll greet all the elder women and men before spotting you at your workbench sewing the buttons he popped in his navy blouse from yesterday (that happened when he tugged his collar a bit too hard when he was dancing with one of the other women during his lessons, hEY it gets steamy dancing for hours;) )

namjoon will watch you work on the buttons in silence till you finish and look at your handiwork, him staring at you with heart eyes grinning from ear to ear with dimples and all

you work on his pants as he explains what happened this time and you keep quiet as he rambles on about the newest thing he learned in his lessons or what new book he stayed up reading

he’ll even bring you the book he’s on and read you passages as you sew and explain anything you don’t understand, sometimes leaving you with the book so that there’s always a reason to come back, not that tearing his clothes is enough anyways

heck, he’ll even try to show you how to dance a waltz, but with his terrible footing and the fact you don’t even know what a waltz is from swaying back and forth, you both fall over with you on top of his chest and your lips dangerously clOSE TO HIS

but you both laugh it off and never speak of that time ever again

he’ll try to teach you other languages from time to time, but you prefer listening to him speak english or japanese or chinese bc his intelligence is so sexy and his vOICE sends chills up your spine

in a way, he tutors you about the rest of the world, teaching you what he knows and also confiding in you bc 1) he trusts you and you trust him and 2) you can literally count how many times he’s split his pants so nothing else is embarrassing or awkward anymore except the romantic tension between you two

bc you won’t admit it to anyone but you really look forward to when namjoon comes and visits with a torn piece of clothing and basically explains how the world came to be or tells you the history of the kingdom

you stay up thinking about how his eyes light up when he tells you his analysis about his newest novel or how he gets pouty when solving riddle books or how his voice sounds when humming music lyrics and melodies he’s just ad-libbed on the fly

if you look tired, he will lecture you on the importance of your health and sleep and you tease him right back about staying up late and reading

you’re his main seamstress and so you always know what blouses and shirts and pants look good on him and what sizes he is and what needs to be fixed to look right on his body

you’re basically giving yourself heart attacks everyday bc namjoon looks great in everything (unless he tries to dress himself in the rare occasion he does, which works out sometimes)

on the days of balls and special events, you proceed to dig yourself a deeper grave by making namjoon wear his formal royal attire bearing his family crest and everything

his hair’s perfect, his jacket fits him well, his shoes are polished, his shirt’s crisp and clean, his family’s crest is shining, he looks exactly like the picture perfect crown prince kim namjoon bc he is exactly that!!

which makes your crush on him just as deep as that grave bc you know you don’t have a chance with being with the crown prince

but namjoon is intelligent, considerate, sweet, and everything your heart desires and more and he sees you for you and not just as some staff member in the castle he lives in

during one of the balls, you sneak in with one of your sunbaes in royal attire and you notice how sophisticated and poised namjoon looks, how regal and intimidating he is with his lips drawn into a thin line until he laughs at something a visiting princess says

you watch from afar as he dances with other visiting royals, accidentally missing a step and squeaking his shoes on top of his partner’s feet

which elicits a laugh from some elderly women as they call it a wakeup call and a breath of fresh air at a stuffy/proper ball and also some yelps and hmpfs in distaste from princesses at the misstep

one princess even stops dancing with namjoon and he awkwardly walks back to the outskirts of the dance floor

it makes your heart melt until you lock eyes with him and his lips become that dimpled, adoring smile with the crescent eyes and the eye crinkles and then he’s standing in front of you, asking if you’ll dance with him

you two begin to dance and you’re so nervous, you step on his feet right after he’s accidentally stepped on yours and you both begin laughing until you remember that you’re both at a public event

the bubble of you two is broken by reality when namjoon is swept away by another princess for a dance, and then another until he’s called to by parents and after that you lose him

the night ends and you go back to the work room and change into your normal clothes, returning the clothes to the laundry when you hear someone knock on the door

namjoon sheepishly pokes his head in and enters, his white shirt from the ball in his hand and a small book in the other

he shows you the tear in the front and you decided to fix it up, walking over to your bench and pulling out the thread and needle

and like normal, namjoon starts talking but after the first couple stitches you register that he’s reading a passage from what sounds like a law book? or a history book?

he’s basically describing how one of his ancestors changed the laws of marriage and banned the rule saying royals can only marry royals and emphasized how anyone within the royal bloodline should court and marry whoever they choose

and then he ends this whole speech with a “may I, kim namjoon, court you, (l/n) (y/n)?” and you look from your needlework and see him on one knee

your silence and disbelief confuses him for a moment until you shout a loud “YES” and tackle him with a hug

you both agree to keep your courtship on the down low, only your family and his knowing of your relationship

the other seamstresses highkey ship you from the very start and speculate in hushed whispers

pda around the castle usually never happens as someone is always watching but he does give you a kiss on the cheek from time to time

when he leaves on visits to other kingdoms, he leaves you with another novel but there’s scraps of papers shoved inside confessing his undying love for you and how he misses you

you still repair his clothes and choose his outfits for every event, except this time, getting dressed takes a little bit longer (if you know what I’m sayin;) )

bets are called and talks between your family and his are arranged and you two definitely stand the test of time, eventually getting married after two years of a quiet relationship and three years of being in the public eye to ease your appearance into the open

even after five years of being together, you can’t deny the butterflies in your stomach and how your heart swells at just the thought of namjoon and there’s less holes and tears in his clothes, but slip ups still happen

and only after all these years of being together does namjoon tell you that he’d purposely tear his shirts and rip his pants to spend time with you

thank you for reading! xo

#bts #bts au #bts scenarios #bts imagines #namjoon scenarios #prince!bts #prince!namjoon #my work

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loubuggins · 7 years

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Trouble at the Tea Shop (Part 3)

For the next 48 hours, Rachael’s treacherous mind tortured her by playing her meltdown at the café on a loop. She couldn’t stop imagining the hundreds of different scenarios that could have taken place. Some had her behaving nicer, while some had her acting worse. She even had a dream last night of the man chasing her out of the tea shop, begging for her forgiveness, and proclaiming his undying love for her. She blamed the last part of her dream on her hormones.

It was Saturday, and on Saturday’s Rachael worked retail. She absolutely loathed the job, but she needed the money, and the department store chain was the only place that would hire her when she first moved to Jump City for school. As one can easily tell from her dealings with the barista, she did not handle human interaction well. Her main task at the store, was to man the fitting rooms in the women’s department. It was probably the best job for her at a place like this, as it required the least amount of “people skills.” All she had to do was ask the costumers how many articles of clothing they were trying on, then lead them to their changing room. Simple enough.

About every half hour or so, she would have to check the changing rooms for any clothing that had been left behind. She would gather them all up and go return them to their proper racks. This was her favorite part, because it meant no interaction at all. Unless, of course, a confused customer happens to notice you. Then your screwed.

“Hello? Ma'am? Do you work here?” A shrill voice of an older women interrupted Rachael’s hanging. She looked up at the women, who towered over her 5-foot body. The women looked like she had a lot of work done to her face and breasts, as both appeared to be unnatural. She was also dressed like a floosy, but then again, Rachael wasn’t here to judge stupid people.

Rachael glanced down at her name tag and red vest that had the store’s name and logo plastered on it, then looked back up at the women. “Why yes ma'am, it looks like I do.” She deadpanned. The women obviously didn’t pick up on Rachael’s sarcasm.

“Great! Can you tell me where the ice is?”

Rachael blinked at her. “Did she really just ask where the ice is?” She thought. “Um, I’m sorry ma'am, but we don’t sell ice here.”

It was a simple statement, but apparently, Rachael had just stepped on a very sensitive nerve. “You don’t sell ice!” The women cried, throwing her arms in the air. “What do you mean you don’t sell ice?”

“Look ma'am, I’m sorry, but this is a department store. We don’t sell ice here.” Rachael tried to calm the hysteric women, but she was already storming off.

“I’m going to talk with your manager! No ice. That’s the stupidest thing I have every heard!” She complained as her large heels clicked away.

Rachael let out an exhausted sigh and went back to her work. “How annoying. Don’t people understand that employees can’t control what a store sells.” She mumbled under her breath. Suddenly, a light bulb turned on in her head, and she froze in place.

“Oh no.” She whispered as the memory of her first encounter with the man at the tea shop played back in her mind. “It was my fault.”

Rachael threw the remainder of the clothing on top of the closest rack and ran to the back of the store. She passed through the door that was labeled “employees only” and went straight to the break room, where her purse waited for her in her locker. She grabbed her purse, passed the store manager’s office, and called out to him.

“Bye Glenn! I’m going on my lunch break!”

“Okay, Ms. Roth! Have a nice lunch!” The manager called back from his office. Rachael nodded her head and rushed out of the store.

She had to run 5 blocks in heels, but she eventually made it to the familiar brick shop. She stopped in front of the café to catch her breath. Once she had collected herself, she brushed down her black, knee-length skirt and entered the café. Sure enough, the man that her plagued her thoughts the past couple of days was standing behind the counter. He wasn’t watching the front door, however. Instead, he had his back facing her while he was cleaning some dishes in the back.

“Welcome to Dayton Café. I’ll be with you in a moment.” He called over his shoulder, not noticing who had walked in. His voice wasn’t its cheery self either. It sounded like a forced politeness, something that was supposed to come from her, not him. She wondered if his depressed mood had anything to do with their little spat a few days ago. She walked up to the counter, and while her eyes bounced around the antique tea shop, she noticed for the first time, a little clear jar with a small strip of white paper tapped on the front of it, labeled “tips.”

“So, what will it…” His sentence died on his lips when he finally looked up. When their eyes met, they both forgot how to speak. Rachael felt that weird feeling in her stomach return in full force this time. Her mouth became dry, but the rest of her body began to sweat nervously. She tried in vain to fight the blush that was creeping onto her pale cheeks.

“Hello Logan.” She was the first to recover. The man shook his head lightly before walking up to the register.

“Uh…Hi there…um….”

“Rachael.” She offered, giving him a small smile.

“Rachael.” He breathed out. He stared at her for a moment, making her feel a bit uncomfortable. She shifted her weight and cleared her throat, bring his attention back to Earth.

“Yes, um, I just…. I wanted to apologize…for the other day.” She apologized gracelessly. “My behavior was…unbecoming of me. I believe we started off on the wrong foot, and I was hoping we could try again.” She looked away at him, focusing on the wooden floor. There was an awkward pause between them, and Rachael was beginning to worry he wouldn’t forgive her.

“I’d like that, Rachael.” He said her name like he was tasting something sweet for the first time. She looked up at him and noticed his over-sized smile had returned to his face. His eyes even had their normal, delighted sparkle back. “Would you like your usual?” He asked her happily.

“Oh um…yes please, but I’ll have it to go. I’m on my lunch break right now.” She explained.

“Oh okay! Sure thing!” He said as he moved to the back and pulled out a thick, paper cup, and began filling it with the boiling water.

“So where do you work?” He asked kindly, looking at her over his shoulder.

The question took her by surprise. “Oh uh…Lou’s Department Store on 27th street.” She stated casually.

“27th street, huh? You must get a lot of white collars up there.”

She tilted her head curiously. “White collars?”

“Yeah, you know, wealthy folks that don’t mind spending twice the value of stuff.”

Again, she found herself becoming heated at this man for no rational reason. She hated where she worked, and yet she still found herself trying to defend it.

“Our prices are not overpriced.” She retorted.

He openly laughed at her as he placed a lid over her cup. “Sure, they are! Last time I was in there, I saw a shirt that was going for twice what Ollie’s Bargain Outlet was selling it for! Those fancy stores are always charging more than what their products are worth.”

The anger that was bubbling up inside her mysteriously deflated as she studied him oddly for a moment. “You’ve been to Lou’s?” She accused him more than questioned.

He scoffed at her. “Of course, I’ve been to Lou’s. It’s a nice store.”

Her mouth hung open as she looked at him, flabbergasted. “But you were just bad-mouthing it 10 seconds ago! You called it a bad store!”

He smirked that mischievous little smirk of his as he carried her cup to the counter. “I never said it was a bad store. I said their products are over-priced. That doesn’t mean the store itself is bad.” He punched in the amount for the tea into the register. “Now that will be $1.50, Rachael.”

She truly didn’t know what to think. Here was a this strange, overly-enthusiastic guy who could push her buttons without even trying. He was just a barista for crying out loud! Why did she let him bother her so?

“Here.” She said with a huff as she handed him her payment. This time, having exact change.

“Well look who’s learning!” He laughed as he took the money and placed it into the machine.

Her lips quivered ever so slightly. She had to swallow down the giggle that was rising in her throat. Why the heck did he have to be so gash darn funny?

She took her cup of tea, and began to walk out of the shop, before she stopped and turned back to him. “Almost forgot!” She announced as she came back over to the counter. Logan stared at her confused.

“What’d you forget?” He asked.

“Your tip.” She replied sweetly as she opened her purse, pulled out her wallet and dumped all the change she had accumulated into the little, glass tip jar. The sound of metal hitting glass filled the café and bystanders peered over to watched the scene unfold. Once the last coin dropped into the jar with a “clang,” she zipped up her wallet and stuffed in back into her purse. “Have a nice day!” She said innocently and rushed out of the café. Logan just stared dumbfounded at the now full tip jar, still trying to decide if he should feel pleased at the generous tip, or annoyed that he would have to spend a good ten minutes counting it all.

Yep. She was definitely learning.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

#bbrae #au #teen titans #garrae #beast boy x raven #garfield logan #rachael roth #three chapters in less than 24 hours #I'm on a roll

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7fics · 7 years

Text

Jackson plays crappy matchmaker for Youngjae and Jaebum, and Youngjae avoids his feelings long enough to hurt Yugyeom.

Warnings: swearing, and some sexual content (not too explicit though)

Word Count: 5.6k+

Author(s): Mia and Chewy

A/N: It’s been a really long time, but our promised fic for our lottery winner from celebrating 2k followers is finally done! Sorry it took so long, but hopefully we’ve done your prompt justice :)

I tried my best to incorporate the things you wanted. There’s also some yugjae because I have no control over my writing and who pops up in it, as usual. I really hope you like it.

Tall, polished windows set in gold-yellow sills spanning the length of at least two regular department stores call out to him, whispering in bittersweet chorus. They want him to empty his savings for the month on some stupid party where it will be too dark for anyone to see what he’s wearing anyway. Is he bitter? Yes. Does he have the right to be? Hell yes. His senior Junho told him to come dressed his best, that he should want to make a good impression since a bunch of alumni and other seniors are going to be there. Youngjae isn’t even completely convinced that he wants to be in Kappa Sigma anyway. It just seems like the college thing to do, and Junho may have twisted his arm about it.

Regardless, here he is, walking through the front door of Club Z, cringing at the ding that sounds out and prompts some shoppers to look in his direction curiously. Some couldn’t care either way and return to what they were doing. Others give him looks ranging from amusement to disgust to genuine confusion. It’s obvious his jeans and band t-shirt combo are to be looked down upon here.

Rich, snotty bastards.

Youngjae is very disappointed that there are as many men as women, thus his excuse of being apart of the stereotypically less fashion-savvy gender is useless. Now, walking around cluelessly touching this and that with absolutely no idea of what any of it is or what to pair anything with is just embarrassing.

Adding to his budding headache, just glimpses of the different clothing pieces tell him that he’ll have to be here for hours just to find a semi-decent outfit. He was born as round as a circle, and even though he lost some baby fat in childhood, traces of it harbor his cheeks, making the tiny shirt holes seem like future humiliation. He also has thick limbs and a flat but soft tummy. No abs. No definition. No chance of him looking good in any of the shear due to his slight but soft frame and not an inkling of hope in the crisper button downs because of the aforementioned reason. It was always easier to resign himself to the ranks of the fashion terrorists and call it a day. Not only is he overwhelmed, but he’s confused, and a bit terrified as well.

To make his situation worse, a handsome, well-dressed man is making his way over from across the floor where women were previously fawning over him, giggling and shoving to get their opportunity at stealing his attention. He pays no mind to the glares they cast at him for that.

His real concern is what he’s going to say to the man when he gets there. He can’t say that he doesn’t need any help because he obviously does. He has a shirt and these insufferable looking shorts in his hands that, even to his inexperienced eyes, don’t match at all. The man will see through that lie in a split second and then he’ll have to put his head in a dark hole and wait for lightning to strike him dead. If he says that he was just looking around he might be met with the same expression he has witnessed twice already today. That expression that clearly says ‘why come if you’re going to touch everything you can’t afford and then leave?’. He doesn’t think he can handle that a third time.

He may just drop everything and bolt. But then he’ll be looking through his entire wardrobe last minute, getting frustrated that nothing is good enough, eventually just blow the event off and live the rest of his college career as a hermit who never goes anywhere or does anything because he has no friends and can't dress himself properly.

...Okay, so maybe that last part is mostly just exaggerated speculation. But some of it holds true. Youngjae has been wearing the same thing since he was a geeky freshman through senior year. A fresh look is long overdue. He has no idea where to start though, or where he wants to end up for that matter.

Youngjae is still caught up in his internal dialogue when the man finally arrives, having to announce himself twice before Youngjae looks up, conflicted and nervous. He feels like a small child, mismatched clothes in hand and confidence draining from his body. Up close, the man is even more striking. Although Youngjae has no idea what he’s wearing by name, he knows that it looks good. Broad muscles fill up the shirt that would be too tight in some places and too loose in others on Youngjae. Long, built legs compliment his black slacks and shiny, dark shoes top off his whole ‘I’m too hot to approach, but feel free to drool from afar’ ensemble.

“Can I help you?” the man asks with amusement in his voice. He surveys Youngjae’s “outfit” with a speculative expression and raises one eyebrow. “You have a rather particular taste. I’m not judging, but it’s kind of written in my job description to give customers advice.”

“Yeah?” Youngjae says. “And what’s your advice?”

“Lose the shorts and we’ll see what we can do with the shirt…”

“Youngjae.”

The man smiles easily. “Jaebum.”

After twenty minutes of trying on things Jaebum brings to him, Youngjae is over the whole process. He appreciates the man’s well-intentioned determination but he’s on the verge of calling everything off because nothing is looking right despite Jaebum’s undying optimism.

“Here, last one.” Jaebum’s arm splits through the dressing room curtains with a pair of straight-legged black jeans and a soft blue cotton button-up. He’s skeptical, but puts them and steps out in front of the full-length ready to accept his fate, when he opens his eyes gingerly and is surprised to find that he doesn’t hate the ensemble.

The jeans make his legs look lean, which they aren’t, and the shirt doesn’t make him particularly podgy in any place.

“Good?” Jaebum asks with an expectant grin and a hesitant thumbs up.

“Good,” Youngjae replies.

“Awesome.” Jaebum waves him over to the register and they get on with it. Youngjae is more than glad to get the heck out of there after having sent way too much time already, even if he doesn’t mind being with Jaebum at all.

“So you go to Yeongnam U?” Jaebum asks as he’s ringing up the stuff.

“Uh, yeah. I’m majoring in Music Therapy.”

“Sweet.” Jaebum smiles and Youngjae’s heart does this thing where it feels like it’s going to explode. “So, you wanna, like, help people and stuff? Way cool. I’m only going for Composition so I can write songs and sell ‘em. But that’s noble, Youngjae.”

“Um, noble, okay. Thanks.” Youngjae scratches the back of his neck slightly as Jaebum bags the clothes and taps some numbers in the register. Youngjae pays what he owes and waves the man goodbye as he tries not to look like an animal fleeing its cage on his way out.

* * * * *

Parties have never been Youngjae’s forte.

He’s an awkward human being. It was built in him to be that way, he supposes. He’s terrible at small talk, hates being squashed by sweaty, drunk people in dark, loud places. He never knows what to say or do. It doesn’t help that he’s wearing an expensive outfit that doesn’t feel like him at all, doesn’t mold to his body like a good pair of jeans and a graphic tee. So, not only is he struggling to be anyone but himself, he’s also trying to live up to the bigshot persona clothes from Glitz warrant from someone. This was destined to be a horrible idea the second he walked in the front door. Jinyoung and Bambam ditched him, obviously preferring to hang out with their rich, cultured group of friends, leaving Youngjae to fend for himself.

Youngjae doesn’t have to think about what to do; it’s instinct by this point. He pushes his way through the writhing bodies until he gets to the back door.

Worse has come to worst.

As Youngjae is slipping outside into the warm night, a very familiar face clocks on his radar. He doesn’t have anything better to do, so he sulks on a barren swing as he watches through squinted eyes at the bodies suffocating each other on a bench near the back door. Jaebum finally comes up for air, and a girl Youngjae recognizes from his Psych class, Dasom, giggles and hiccups, begging him to come back. He shoos her away, coming to his feet and allowing her time to scramble up herself. She scurries after him like a puppy as he goes inside.

Seeing them together is almost as bitter as whatever is in his cup. He only has to take a sip to decide that the stuff is awful. He keeps drinking, though, because one, he has nothing better to do, and two, it takes some of the hurt away. He’s halfway through it when the air surrounding him becomes more crowded and the other swing’s creaking mixes in with his. As terrible as that sound is, it’s oddly comforting. It reminds him of when he would go to his friend’s house as a child to play. He had this rusty swing set that was probably the most dangerous thing they could find to play on, but it never collapsed on them and they enjoyed each other’s company while using it. He doesn’t question the welcome intrusion.

“The party’s in there,” the voice says. It has some bass, while still being very youthful. Attractive.

“I’m having my own party.” Youngjae shakes his head sadly, taking another sip out of his cup. “A party of one.”

“Make that a party of two.” The guy takes the cup right out of Youngjae’s hand and takes a whig himself. Youngjae isn’t too upset as he follows the thieving hand to a handsome face. Large yet angular brown eyes, a high, straight nose, and thick lips is what he can pick out in the semi-darkness. The stranger lets loose a long, loud sigh and returns the cup. Youngjae takes it apprehensively, sloshing what’s left boredly. He thinks he’s starting to feel it, whatever it is. This is not his first time drinking alcohol, but it’s definitely his first time getting past a few gulps without gagging and passing the wretched stuff to a more willing party-goer, or putting it back.

“I’m Yugyeom, by the way.” The stranger--Yugyeom, kicks off and begins to swing gently. The creaking gets louder.

“Youngjae.” He follows the other’s lead. The warmth growing inside of him as the liquor works its way through his system mixed with the cool breeze he unearths once he starts swinging is creating a strange synergy around him. The night becomes a little more bearable. Yugyeom is handsome, has a nice voice as well.

“So, Youngjae-hyung. You out here for a reason?” Yugyeom asks.

“Yeah,” Youngjae says, coughing to clear his clogged throat. The alcohol causes it to burn a little, but it’s just comforting warmth after that. “I’m kinda bummed about something. And I don’t really like parties. This is my frat. I would just go to my room, but there’s probably someone having sex in it. So…” He twirls the cup some more, distractedly.

“Yeah, that could get awkward.” Yugyeom laughs quietly. Another nice sound. It’s sweet, something Youngjae feels rather than just hears. It bounces along the night breeze and takes over his muddled senses.

“What about you?” Youngjae asks.

“Same, I guess. Bummed. Not one for parties,” Yugyeom says. “My friend asked me to come because he wanted to find someone here and didn’t want to look like a loser waiting around by himself. Now I’m the loser by myself. That asshole.”

“Friends suck,” Youngjae muses. He raises his nearly empty cup. It sways lightly in his loosening grip. Whatever was in it and the little bit left is strong. “Toast to the decent people left on the earth.”

So they toast to each other and drink the night away, buried in what they can handle. Surprisingly, considering his sheer height, Yugyeom is a lightweight and Youngjae has to stop himself from overdoing it because the younger had reached that point a while ago, sleepily humming tunes to songs and occasionally pairing them with the wrong words as Youngjae piggybacks him to his dorm.

The air is sweetly warm, whispering across Youngjae’s bare chest as he rummages through his drawers for some less sweaty clothes, goading on the beads of sweat as they collect uncomfortably in the crevices of his body and force him to crack the window more and more.

After tugging Yugyeom’s uncooperative limbs into cooler, cleaner clothes, Youngjae slips in beside the tall freshman, slightly distressed to find that he fits perfectly as if it were in some predestined scheme for the younger to toss one of his long, heavy arms over Youngjae’s torso, anchoring him temporarily.

“He’s a little funny-looking,” Yugyeom whispers suddenly to him. Youngjae can safely say that he is both startled and extremely peeved because how long has this ingrate been awake and why couldn’t he walk his goliath ass back to his own dorm? He’s just about ready to give it to him when the soft murmur is broken by a snor, a snuffle, and nothingness, only to repeat again a minute later with different words. Something like ‘but, cute too’.

And Youngjae realizes Yugyeom is sleep talking.

And sleep insulting him, too. This bastard.

“Hyung,” he babbles, pulling Youngjae closer. “Toast.”

Youngjae would be more livid if Yugyeom weren’t so damn cute.

* * * * *

The next time Yugyeom is drunk off his ass is at Youngjae’s induction to Kappa Sigma. His newly dubbed crush is sitting right in his lap, a hard drink of something swaying in his unreliable fingers, as they’re at the table trying to keep something down besides liquor.

It isn’t going too hot.

More than half surrounding the stupidly large table are drunk out of their minds, and the other half are swimming in varying states of less severe drunkenness, but not completely lucid all the same. Youngjae is one of the few who are still upright, and he’s not gung ho on the thought of having to carry Yugyeom across campus not a second, or third, but fourth time. He’s a sloppy drunk and bad drinker, barely able to hold his fluids after about three cups of something.

“Hyung, bathroom.” Yugyeom paws at Youngjae’s chest with a pout, wrinkling his dumb, new shirt purchased at (where else, honestly?) Club Z. “I have to peeeeeeee.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Youngjae grumbles miserably, helping Yugyeom to his feet, and pulling the boy over to the stairs. As they’re going up Youngjae thinks that his “wonderful induction night” can’t get suckier; then he and Yugyeom reach the first landing, padding mutely over the hardwood as they turn and commit to climbing the rest to get to the top, and Youngjae hears a gross noise upon reaching the second floor.

It’s dark, loopy, a little hot, and Youngjae can still outline Jaebum’s body pressed up against someone else’s at the beginning of the corridor, just before a long stretch of darkness absorbs anything remotely tangible into an indecipherable blob of mystery.

Youngjae aches that much more because it’s a guy he’s got his hands all over in the sticky shadows, meaning Jaebum is bi, swings both ways, and he probably would never even want to take a whack in Youngjae’s direction.

What makes it all worse is Yugyeom starts whining again, reminding Youngjae that has a new responsibility to deal with, cute sweet Yugyeom who Youngjae is almost sure likes him back. He helps the boy, finally, to the bathroom, switching the light on and pulling the toilet seat up so he can relieve himself.

Youngjae looks on with a mixture of fondness and guilt as he takes out his phone from his jeans pocket, looking away briefly to check the message from Jackson left hours ago.

i know ur butt hurt from the lecture, but jaebum’s gonna be at ur tea party later, sooooo ;););) use protection -wang jackass, 5:34pm

Youngjae sends a quick text back, a digital middle finger, before he’s focusing on Yugyeom again, watching glassily as he fumbles for soap to wash his hands and zoning out simultaneously, thinking back to the lecture in question from earlier.

Youngjae had come into his Music Theory hall with a little smile on his face from serial texting Yugyeom. It had been two weeks since the sleepover incident and they were really hitting it off. Yugyeom, Youngjae’s polisci angel, is also into reading for pleasure, so they were texting about a book they had both read just that summer, crying over the fact that the author isn’t going to release a sequel until the following Spring like a couple of nerds.

He had nearly tripped over someone from having his nose stuck in his screen. That someone turned out to be Jaebum sitting like an Adonis statue and outshining everything in Youngjae’s view. He cursed silently under his breath and scurried past the man, pretending not to hear his pleasant greeting in favor of crowding his body into a ditch and suffocating on his own damn inadequacy.

Instead he just fled a few rows down and drowned in his own awkward sorrow. It had been his own idiocy that forced him to retell all of this to Jackson, because what had Youngjae imagined him doing different from what he usually does? Which is insert new names and post anything remotely amusing that happens in his sorry little life to SNS.

Youngjae shouldn’t have been surprised to see the trials of Jaebin in his twitter feed later, along with a comment by Jaebum, ‘cute’, to which Jackson replied with ‘very’.

So Youngjae isn’t talking to Jackson right now. He couldn’t even if he wanted to because he’s too busy holding onto Yugyeom and ushering him back downstairs, past where Jaebum and some other dude were just sucking face among other things.

* * * * *

It’s at another party that shit finally hits the fan. Youngjae is on the couch with Yugyeom on his lap. He has a hard on and the younger’s weight on top of it feels good, really good. He’s doing this twisting thing that makes it feel even better. Summer air, the bass of the music, and his boyfriend’s sweet lips are all sensations that vibrate across his warm, damp skin. He would say it were a perfect night, if only Jaebum weren’t in his head kicking up a disgusting fuss.

He’s trying to give Yugyeom all of his attention, as the boy is licking into his mouth as eager as a puppy, hands playing with the little hairs on the back of Youngjae’s neck, gentle yet urgent. It shouldn’t be hard to do. Yugyeom has his long, supermodel legs swung over Youngjae’s lap, knees weighed into the couch on both sides of him, and his bum is skipping on top of Youngjae’s clothed erection, torsos brushing. It shouldn’t be hard at all to dwell solely on his sweet boyfriend’s playful hands, his busy hips, and intoxicating scent all spawned from some unfathomable source out to end his very existence.

Yugyeom is stunning, and he wants Youngjae, possibly even more than the older wants him if his breathy moans and insistent whines hold any bearing. So the fact that he’s sitting here, hot boyfriend grinding on his lap, thinking about Jaebum, has him reorganizing his priorities. Youngjae has no time to clear his mind though, because Yugyeom must sense it as his hips stop rolling and he stares down at Youngjae with a little frown that the older wishes he could just kiss away.

“It is about Jaebum?”

Youngjae blanches.

“Y-you know Jaebum?” From where? How?

“Not personally.” Yugyeom sighs. “But I hear Jackson-hyung talking about him and you get...weird. Like, your mind freezes and I could never figure out why. And, believe me, I’m not being conceited here. Just speculative. But I’m on your lap, damn near dry humping you, and nothing. Your little man downstairs has been limp for the past ten minutes. Is it because I’m not attractive enough or-”

“No, not at all.” Youngjae reaches up to cradle Yugyeom’s face and bring him down for a kiss. His lips are soft and warm and sweet, but even when he’s connected to him, his polisci angel, his mind is on Jaebum. Yugyeom pulls away with this sad look in his pretty eyes and Youngjae is on the brink of smashing something because those sad, pretty eyes are his fault.

“Do you like him...more than me?” Yugyeom asks, looking as if he’s choking up a bit.

Youngjae hates himself because he doesn’t even have the balls to say ‘yes’.

“Look, hyung. I like you. A lot. But I can see you need to do some thinking right now. So I’m gonna go.” Yugyeom presses a kiss to Youngjae’s forehead just as empty as his lap when Yugyeom slinks away.

Everything hurts.

This party is stupid.

Jaebum is stupid.

The only thing Youngjae can think to do to clear his head is get so drunk he can’t remember his own name.

He gets very close. He only remembers that Jaebum is stupid and that his dorm is on the east side of campus. He’s stumbling through the dark, eyes only half-way open as the world flies by in clips of sensations. Loud noises. Questionable smells.

Somehow he ends up in a warm building. On an elevator. Tripping through the hall. Banging on a door.

“Youngjae?” It’s truly sick that Youngjae recognizes that voice even when he’s supposed to be blown off his ass tore down.

“Asshole.” Hiccup. “Y-you, you--fuck you.”

“Youngjae, you okay?”

“What do you think, asshole?” Hiccup. “Just...just, I like you dammit!”

“You what?”

That’s when he passes out.

* * * * *

Food doesn’t taste the way it should. Youngjae’s stomach is gurgling and his head is making very loud music without his permission, against his will really.

“Good job, dummy.” Jackson scoops more soup into his bowel and pats his head placatingly, shit-eating grin full force. “Jaebum knows you’re hard for him and he still wants to take you out. You know, you definitely come off as the prunish, incompetent type. But you’ve got skills after all.”

“I’m not hard for him.” Youngjae fusses uselessly as he spoons the soup into his mouth and tries to keep it down.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, bud.”

* * * * *

Youngjae is sitting in class a few days later when his phone starts ringing against his pants. After a few moments of awkward fumbling and thanking the heavens that he remembered to change his ringtone back from whatever crap Jackson put on it, he manages to turn it off without looking at the screen.

By the time he gets out of class, he’s completely forgotten about the call. In fact, Youngjae also forgets to turn his phone back on. Which is why he’s sitting in a baggy t-shirt he’s had since middle school, paired with athletic shorts that he exclusively uses for lounging and his one-time-a-year trips to the gym. He flips through the channels, pausing on a predictable drama as the stereotypical rich-guy takes the stereotypical poor-girl to buy some tacky name brand clothes for the first time in her life. As if the girl didn’t already own an iPhone 7 Plus.

What is completely not predictable is the knock on the door that comes right as the girl trips and falls dramatically into the main lead’s arms.

Youngjae scratches his head. Did I order pizza?

When he opens the door, instead of the rich and savory smell of Italian pie, Youngjae is greeted with a crisp and cool cologne. When he looks up to look Jaebum in the eyes, the first thing that comes to mind is, “Are you wearing a turtleneck under a dress shirt?”

Jaebum just laughs. “I said I’d pick you up at seven. I’m fifteen minutes late. Sorry.”

“That date thing is tonight?”

“Yes, the date thing is tonight. Forget?” Jaebum puts on a thinking face. “Weird. Just a few days ago someone was banging on my door like the sky was falling, confessing their undying love-”

“I said, and I quote, ‘I like you dammit’. Hardly anything undying about that.” Youngjae hopes the sass can distract Jaebum from his inner-chaos. “Let’s go.”

“Wait.” Jaebum stops him with a hand on his chest. Youngjae isn’t screaming. The tea’s done. “You wanna change into something less, sporty?”

“Where are we going?”

“Secret.” Jaebum sing-songs. “Just get dolled up and meet me at my car, okay? I’m parked right out front.”

“Okay…?”

Youngjae slides in Jaebum’s car about twenty minutes later. He spent ten minutes having an existential crisis and the other ten minutes running around forsaking everything in his wardrobe before deciding on jeans so black they can almost pass for slacks and a white button down that he tucked in them.

Jaebums glances over for a second. He hesitates a moment, and then reaches over to grab Youngjae’s hand. “You look really handsome tonight.”

Youngjae frowns. While he appreciates the sweetness, he can’t help but feel a little bit overwhelmed. Youngjae tries to sneakily untangle their fingers so he can wipe off the sweat that is slowly gathering in his palms. When he goes back to rap Jaebum’s hand once more, however, it’s already back on the steering wheel. Youngjae sits, staring at the hand for a moment before realizing Jaebum is talking again.

“—just opened but I heard it’s really popular. I thought you would like it. There’s a live band and everything. Your clothes are fine too.”

“Oh really?” Youngjae perks up again at hearing there’s a live band. He imagines a hipster club, the perfect opportunity to see Jaebum at his sexiest: when dancing. As his mood lightens, he gets chattier, going into a story about Jackson’s latest antics.

“We’re here.”

Shit.

Youngjae was expecting fancy, but he wasn’t expecting this. It looks like somewhere people who sneeze money frequent. The kind of place with little personal packs of fruity smelling soap in the bathroom that they’re not even afraid of people stealing because who would be caught pilfering little soaps when they have hand-made, hypoallergenic imports from Milan? Jaebum is smiling again when the maitre'd leads them to their booth and Youngjae’s breath is no longer with him. He just listens as Jaebum tells him the name of the restaurant, something European, and Youngjae can only nod and smile. Looking down at his menu, he sees that it’s all written in French, maybe, or Italian, except the prices. Youngjae actually gasps out loud when he takes in the digits, which fails to go unnoticed by Jaebum.

“Are you okay?” Jaebum asks sweetly. He smiles and reaches his hand across the table. When Youngjae just meekly nods, Jaebum asks, “Are you ready to order?” He then calls for the waiter in a voice that would have Youngjae drooling, if he wasn’t still trying to figure out what everything meant.

“Are you ready to order, sir?” the waiter asks. Youngjae can’t help but feel relieved that the waiter speaks Korean, at least.

“Yeah, um, I’ll just have… This,” he decides, pointing at one of the menu options. Hopefully it doesn’t taste like shit.

Jaebum orders, the waiter goes, and they sit in silence. Youngjae’s not sure if Jaebum thinks it’s an awkward silence or if he’s enjoying the music, and the tapping of his fingers gives no hint to either. Youngjae perks up in excitement to see their waiter returning with their food. And then he realizes that this date is really and truly just meant to be a prolonged hell as he takes in the cucumbers lining a plate of greens.

As the dinner wraps up with both Jaebum and Youngjae claiming to be too full for desserts (although they both also still have piles of food left on their plates) Youngjae reaches into his pockets to be left with emptiness. Or really, nothingness, because he doesn’t actually have pockets. Or his wallet. Or his phone to pay with apple pay. Or anything at all. Youngjae panics and looks up to explain himself to Jaebum, only to find that Jaebum has already paid for their meal.

Walking back to the car, Youngjae speaks up, “That was a pretty nice first date, I guess.” He can’t help but cringe at how insincere that sounds.

“You know what. I have to confess something,” Jaebum declares, turning to him.

“What?” Youngjae can’t help but think, This is it, this is the moment. He’s going to say he never wants to see me again.

“I actually, really, really don’t like—“

Oh shit here it comes.

“—Western food. And I don’t know if maybe you don’t like it either because you didn’t eat much of your food either, I noticed, but the restaurant had nice reviews, and I wanted to make this really special, and you didn’t respond to my texts so I wasn’t sure in the first place if you would like it or not but I thought it would be okay because Jackson recommended it, but then again Jackson trained in France for a year so he probably likes french food? But I just—“

Youngjae has to stop him there. “Wait. I just. I don’t like cucumbers, but I can’t read French.”

“Oh.”

“And I actually turned my phone off today so I didn’t get any of your texts, which is why I’m dressed like trash, as always, and you look so sleek and good and everybody thinks that you’re too good for me because you are literally in a turtleneck and dress shirt blazer leather pants suede shoes combo thingy and I’m not. Maybe I should have let you dress me again, ha ha.” Youngjae finishes with an awkward laugh.

“Oh.”

“I also don’t have pockets. Or anything. Except some lettuce stuck in my teeth that I can’t get out.”

“Oh.”

“So, yeah.”

“Oh.”

Youngjae isn’t sure how to proceed anymore. I mean, he thinks, I literally just told him I had lettuce stuck in my teeth. There’s an awkward pause, and then Youngjae says, “So do you want some bingsu?”

“Yes. A classic Korean dessert.”

Youngjae returns home that night with a smile on his face. He can’t help but blush as he thinks about Jaebum. About how cute Jaebum looked when he got a brain freeze from eating too fast. How cute he looked when he lost at the arcade Dance Dance Revolution game to a seven year old and pouted about it. How cute he looked when he had pepper paste smudged on his cheek when they got spicy rice cake for dinner, round two. And especially how cute he looked when he ran away after placing a peck on Youngjae’s cheek at his front door.

Jaebum’s really not chic and sexy at all, Youngjae decides. He’s just a ball of fluff.

As Youngjae lays on his side to get comfortable for bed, he fishes out his phone to send a message to Jackson.

you’re not a complete ding dong. the date was nice. -you, 11.03pm

* * * * *

“Jackson. When I said you could plan our date, I meant that you could pick a nice restaurant or movie for us to go to, heck, even an amusement park. Why is there a script?” Youngjae doesn’t know what to do with the packet of paper he holds in his hands. He looks over at the similar copy that Jaebum has (but with different highlights) and decides the only thing left to do is go out and plant some trees. Maybe they can plant two trees together in the name of love. The sound of Jackson slapping his Director’s Copy of the script onto the table whips him out of his daydreams.

“It’s not a script!” Jackson protests. “It’s just suggestions for the theme?”

Jaebum has already started flipping through the book, questioning, “Did you get this from the morning drama that Youngjae likes to watch? The lines are literally the same.”

“What? No! Don’t be ridiculous!” Jackson protests, flapping his hands back and forth, as if that will help dispel any claims of plagiarism.

“This is literally a ‘the rich guy takes the poor girl shopping for better clothes scene,’” Youngjae deadpans. “This is so cliche. I can’t believe I’m the poor girl with bad taste in clothes.”

Jaebum pauses from where he’s flipping through the book. “But you do have bad taste in clothes.”

Youngjae rolls his eyes and throws his hands up in exasperation, “That’s it, we’re breaking up.”

“NO!” Jackson gasps. “Not after all the hard work I put into getting you two together! If anything, at the very least go on this date, and then I made a reservation for this really nice restaurant where you can have a steak dinner, and then you guys can break up as Youngjae throws a cup of water in Jaebum’s face, and it’ll be perfect!”

“What the hell is wrong with you, Jackson,” Jaebum groans. “Let’s just get this over with.” He reaches out and grabs Youngjae’s hand, asking for a final time, “You ready?”

Youngjae laughs and follows along as Jaebum tugs him out the door.

Jackson trails behind them, oohing and ahhing at their cuteness. “And! If I’m cliche, then you cute little assholes are cliche, too! Don’t think I’m gonna forget how you two first met! I asked the manager for a copy of the CCTV tapes!”

“You know,” Jaebum whispers to Youngjae as he looks back at Jackson, trailing along behind them, “I know it’s a little early to be thinking about marriage, but it looks like we’ve already adopted a kid.”

Youngjae laughs like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. Maybe it’s because this second is the happiest moment of his life.

#got7 #jack2jae #2jae #author:mia #2k followers #lottery fic #character:youngjae #character:jackson #character:jb #author:chewy

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