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stayandot8 · 1 year

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Chapter One: Angels Choking On Their Halos

series summary: this one is a little different than anything else I've written. An AU where the members work in a bar with my MC, no idols among them. It's also going to be on the longer side. The fluffy Chris we know and love is nowhere to be found. He's broodier, moodier, and has jokes up the wazoo. So buckle up, kitties. This one's gonna be good 😏.

inspo: the song by Fall Out Boy.

Genre: i'm not really sure tbh

Relationship type: strangers

Important Contents: bar setting, so mentions of alcohol, chris is a lowkey-highkey dick, swearing as usual

WC: ~9k

Next part I masterlist

This wasn’t the place I wanted to work for the rest of my life. This was just a stepping stone for where I wanted to be, a place to gain more experience. Make money for now, save up for later. It would make things easier in the long run and that was what really mattered. It was all part of my plan. Sometimes, plans had to be changed in order to adjust to the moment’s needs.

This was what I would tell myself every time I would get a rude customer or had trouble with anyone I was working with, which wasn’t often. The family I had made here was enough to keep me going through some of the tougher aspects of life: family passing away, money troubles, even a small period of homelessness. The guys here had taken care of me like I was one of them, which I guess I was. They were all like brothers to me, which was inevitable in the three years we had worked together.

Minho’s dad owned the bar so he had to be here to be groomed to take over, not that he didn’t have the wish or experience to. He had longer dark hair that he often put back when he was behind the line. He worked hard, eager to prove himself to his father that he deserved to own the place someday. He was well on his way too; he was the best cook we had. When he clocked in, it was mostly business, not one for too much joking around in his kitchen. But when the place was closed and the after-shift drinks were flowing, his laugh was one of the loudest in the place. Seungmin was a close second though, more well known simply as Min. He had the most experience of all of them. He loomed over everyone back there, offering critiques when it was warranted while often keeping to himself and taking orders from Minho. He kept his hair short so it wouldn’t hang in his face while he was working. His eyes were my favorite; they got big when he was talking about something he loved (food, baseball). He loved to open up after a few (light) drinks in him after hours, making jokes at the others expense but never taking it too far. He never seemed to run out of material though, so I had to give him credit for his wit.

Changbin was the shorter one, which made him the perfect choice for security and hosting. It was odd how his rounder face and short dark hair accentuated his raging muscles without taking away from the kindness in his face when he wanted to show off his dimple. His uniform of all black was also a huge help. He was never without his favorite platform shoes though, adding another few inches just to give him the small confidence boost he needed to truly complete the intimidation feel he desired. But after the final customer had gone, he was always the first to clock out and head to the bar to grab his one drink for the night then make sure everyone else got home safely. He loved doing that, loved that he could care about others that way. He had created the environment here from scratch, letting everyone get into their patterns and learn each other's ways while we navigated how to work around each other. If anyone had any problems with another employee, they went to him and they talked about it. Changbin always made sure to see both sides while not putting himself in the middle. He was the perfect mediator.

Hyunjin was the lead server, in charge of everyone in the front of house. He was tall and lean, his muscle tone inviting long stares from both men and women alike. And when he noticed those stares, boy did he know how to work you. His ease through life was something to be revered, to be chased after for yourself. The way he seamlessly moved from one subject to another made him a flawless conversationalist, suave and sophisticated. It made people wonder what he was doing in a place like this. People had tried to steal him away, but he was loyal to Minho, his best friend since they were young school boys. He once admitted to me that he actually liked this job, never feeling like he was called to do anything else. He was rarely seen wearing the same thing twice, taking his appearance and his job very seriously as the representative of the place. Not to say he was strict with the people under him, he just liked to appear as no-nonsense. But he very much enjoyed the nonsense, especially when Felix was involved.

Felix was our pastry chef who owned a bakery a couple doors down. He would bring stuff in for us to sell and help out when he could. He wasn’t much for cooking but his baked goods were unbeatable. He came in about three times a week, alternating between dropping stuff off, indulging in his free meals and drinks which he insisted on paying for, or just enjoying the company we provided. His blonde mane was a point of fixation from the other guys, always commenting on how they were jealous and wanting to touch it, play with it. And he would let them because that was just the kind of guy he was. Felix would do anything to make the ones around him happy. He had grown close with the team, joking around and laughing with them in the kitchen. He would get a call from Hyunjin later into the night when he had already closed up shop for the night and be begged to come and help on anything. He picked up skills quickly, running food for us or helping me or Han behind the bar or even picking up a few tables here and there too. He never said no, always said he was happy to do it. His deep register was the first thing everyone noticed, his deep rumble of laughter forcing everyone to pause in wonder and seek out that call of Hades. It worked to his advantage whenever he would ask one of us to help him out with anything he ever needed. I knew if I couldn't say no to that voice and I knew for a fact no one else here could either. His juxtaposition to his bright demeanor was striking to anyone meeting him for the first time. He always had a smile on his face, no matter what. He picked up the spirits of everyone around him. That’s just who he was.

Han was similar to Felix, though not quite as pure goodness. If Felix was love and light, Han was love and chaos. He was the perfect combination for a co-lead bartender. His creativity was useful when trying to plan new drinks for special occasions, holidays, and just messing around at the end of the night. He was the creativity behind our little duo, I was more in charge of execution. The ‘but Han, how are you going to make the glass start smoking after the customer drinks it?’ or ‘ no, Han, we cannot incorporate weed for the April special’ and lots of ‘that’s a fire hazard, Han.’ were all things I said to him at least once a week. The boy loved to set things on fire so Minho put him up front with the liquids, where he could do minimal damage unless someone handed him a lighter. There may or may not have been a small sign that said ‘Do not give Han a lighter’ on the shelves for everyone to see. But he always meant well. His big brown eyes were such a warm invitation that you couldn’t help but smile when he introduced himself, never wanting to return anything but his warm energy when he was near. He was good like that, able to turn on the charm and the looks whenever he wanted to. He had a kind face which made him a good bartender, made him good with people. When he wore his glasses, he had all the ladies swooning. And he ingested information like it was food. He could get invested in any topic under the sun. Anything I threw at him during his training, he would be able to repeat back to me within about ten seconds, enough time for his brain to process said information and learn it. He explained this once to me back in ye olden days when he first started.

“When I’m passionate about something, I learn all I can and retain it. It’s a superpower I’ve always had but only when I really want to know something.” I didn’t question him again. Everytime he would come in with random facts about some mountain range somewhere far off or some type of goldfish he was learning about, he didn’t stop until he found his new fixation. I knew more about Ranchu goldfish than I ever cared to know. Ever.

Jeongin, more affectionately known as Innie, was the other server along with Hyunjin. He flitted through styles like they were nothing. That was actually how he got hired. Hyunjin had commented on his jacket and that was all they talked about the entire interview. I know because I was listening to them while they sat at my bar, voices occasionally rising to the point of harsh glares from myself and Han while we tried to help other patrons. He loved showing off his knowledge of the menu to newer customers, eager to help when they were having trouble. Minho had quizzed him a little to help him learn the details, which Jeongin seemed to appreciate. He took to the job quickly, becoming a favorite amongst some of the regulars, his easy charm contagious. It seemed to be a recurring theme among the front of house staff. Hyunjin had put together his team well.

Saturdays were just about the only day we were all here, minus Felix. The weekend was busy for him down at the bakery so he stayed there for the night, sometimes staying open late to come hang out with us later. Saturdays were always busy, classic date nights for the surrounding area. We were located near a hotel as well so the weekenders often came in either for a drink, for a quick meal or just to get out of their hotel room for a minute or two. The clientele ranged from businessmen there for a meeting with a relaxed environment, families, and couples coming in for a night out or simply away from home. Of course you’d get the occasional outlier: a diplomat wanting to just sit down, high-ranking officials grabbing a quick bite, or rarely, if you listen really closely, you can hear an occasional fight in the back of house. Like tonight.

Minho ran a tight ship back there, vetting almost everyone who dared apply. However, he cared less about who was washing the dishes, which opened the door for some pretty weird people to apply and get the job. He really just needed them to rinse and repeat so it made sense when the current dishwasher up and quit during the middle of a Saturday night dinner rush. I was mid-shake, tickets starting to create a small pile by the printer, when I heard the yelling over the music in the dining room.

“Well what the fuck do you want from me then?!” I stopped, searching the packed out dining room for Hyunjin and readying for damage control. I spotted his dark hair a few hundred feet across the room as he was doing the same, our eyes meeting and readying for the worst. Minho was mostly cool and calm but had quite a temper when provoked, as all cooks did who took pride in their work. But it wasn’t his voice that we could hear. And it wasn’t he who came storming into said dining room with his apron in his hands.

“Fuck this place!” Our former dishwasher threw his apron in my direction, hitting me in the face before I could throw my hands or move to avoid it. Luckily for me, the mysterious stains on it did nothing to my uniform of dark jeans and black button down. Winding through the tables, he flew the doors open and disappeared into the night. Hyunjin was still looking at me, his face now red with rage, both at the scene he had just caused and what had just occurred out of his reach. He started to follow after him but I shook my head at him, having too much to do to entertain the idea of being offended. He wasn’t worth it. Hyunjin seemed to agree, albeit reluctantly, as he continued back to the kitchen to assess the damage. I continued my work, Han coming to my side to ask what he could do to help.

“Hyunjin is going back there probably to take over at the sink. What I need from you is to help Innie on the floor. I can take care of everything back here.” I said as yet another ticket printed someone’s order.

“Are you sure? I can help you get tickets down then go.” He looked concerned. Little did he know this was what it was like before he came. I flashed a smile to ease the worry in his eyes.

“Oh please. I could do this in my sleep. I’ll make you something especially good tonight for hangback if you go now.” I continued smiling to cover the sternness in my voice, slipping into problem-solving mode. “And send Changbin up here when he has a second.” I called after him as he pulled his notepad and pen from his pocket to begin serving Hyunjin’s tables, giving me a thumbs up behind his back.

A flash of lemons, limes, and cherries later, a huffing Changbin appeared at the corner of my bar.

“I could kill that guy, leaving us high and dry in the middle of a rush. Did he throw his apron at you?” Everyone looks so concerned these days…

“In his defense, I don’t think it was intentional. I think he just meant to throw it behind the bar and I just happened to be in the way.”

“Yeah, that sounds like you. Giving people the benefit of the doubt.” That seemed to ease his concern a tad.

“Yeah, yeah.” I rolled my eyes at him and smiled, rinsing my cups to make room for new ones. “Could you help bus tables and run food if you have time? Just keep the front phone in your pocket and answer if it rings. I’m putting us on a temporary hold. We’ll check in with the back in about twenty minutes to see how they are.” He nodded, ever the loyal soldier. He even saluted me and ran back to the host stand to grab said phone and do exactly as I had asked, the kitchen doors swinging as he entered.

I spotted Jeongin at the end of my counter standing at our computer for putting in orders. Once I had a moment, I stepped over to him, spotting the slight tremor in his hand as he pressed button after button, glancing from his notepad back to the screen and back down again.

“Innie.” I singsonged to him, trying to perk him up as best I could. He smiled but still didn’t look up at me. “Are you doing okay? Do you need any help? I sent Han on the floor to help you with tables so you wouldn’t feel as swamped. Changbin is helping to run food as well so don’t worry about that. Just worry about keeping people happy, okay? Which shouldn't be hard to do since you’re just so darn cute.” I leaned on the counter to stare up at him, hoping to catch his eye so I could be sure the gleam returned. I got him grinning and blushing which was confirmation enough.

“I’m okay for now, thank you. I’m about to put in for some chilled shots, okay? This table is hell-bent on celebrating something and I couldn’t for the life of me tell you what it was.” I laughed along with him as he gathered his stuff to walk away again. I called out to him.

“I’m here if you need help!”

“I know!” He flashed me another grin as he held the kitchen door open for Hyunjin, who was carrying about eight plates in his arms, then disappeared behind the swinging door.

“How come you never offer to help me, huh?” Hyunjin had shouted as he was walking past me to deliver the food.

“Because you’re magical. You need no help.” He half-heartedly glared at me, smirking at the same time.

“You’ve got tickets again.” Shit. That damn printer…

***

“Han, I swear if you break a bottle, it’s coming out of your paycheck!” Minho was pointedly staring at Han as he tried some new trick he had learned on Youtube the night before. It involved throwing a bottle and that was when I stopped listening to shut it down. Han, ever the rebel, chose to do it anyway. But now he was doing it in front of Minho, who now that the doors were closed, was the young boy he could be without his mask of professionalism. Surrounded by friends instead of coworkers now, he could relax and enjoy the shenanigans from the safety of the bar.

I heard this being shouted from the kitchen, where Hyunjin, Changbin, and I were gathering our food for the night.. I grabbed a to-go tray full of chips and salsa for the table so as not to create more dishes for Hyunjin who had been stuck there all night long. Hyunjin grabbed some cheese from the walk-in fridge like a mouse, and Changbin was chomping down on a steak that was cooked too long for the customer’s request, so it was put aside for him. We gathered what we needed and returned to the bar where everyone was waiting for us, seated in booths and bar stools. Han had decided against his internet trick, settling for being the bartender for the night.

“Okay! What is everyone having?” He asked the room, steadfast in his decision. As orders were placed, I put the chips down in front of Jeongin and sat between him and Hyunjin, Seungmin on his other side and Minho next to Jeongin. Changbin moved from his booth to the bar when his food was finished. He hated being left out.

“I will have whatever that crazy brain can think of that will get me good and drunk so I can forget this stupid night ever happened. I’m off tomorrow, right Minho?” Hyunjin looked expectantly at him. Minho shrugged nonchalantly.

“Whatever. Hey, where’s my scotch?!” He directed that at Han, who got to it immediately, cracking jokes about impatience while he poured the brown liquid into a paper cup. “What, no glass?” Minho jutted out his lip in a pout.

“Do you want to clean it?” Hyunjin retorted, the amusement gone from his face. His fingers were pruned from the constant submersion in water; Seungmin hid the rubber gloves from him. Minho nodded in understanding and took a sip from his cup. Han started pouring different liquids into one cup with a dash of juice at the top and handed it to Hyunjin. He took a sip and coughed. Hard. “Damn, dude. I would have asked for a Long Island if I wanted one.”

“You asked for something that would get you good and drunk so there you go. You don’t like it, give it back. Who’s next?” Without any of us seeing or hearing him, Felix emerged from the kitchen doors.

“I’ll take something fruity please!” His signature smile was plastered on his face as we all greeted him. Jeongin started telling him about what had happened with our former coworker when Han dropped off something pink for the both of them.

“And he just walked out in the middle of it! All of my tables were so confused, they had no idea he worked here. I tried to just laugh it off but my heart stopped for a second.”

“Good riddance, I say. I never liked him anyways.” Minho took another sip.

“Then why did you hire him?” My question was amplified when the others asked the same thing. Han dropped off Changbin’s chilled vodka and Seungmin’s beer.

“We needed a dishwasher.” Minho replied simply. “I’ve got someone in mind to replace him, don’t worry Hyunjin. He’ll be in by the time you come in on Monday.” Hyunin nodded his approval and took as big of a swig as he could muster from his Long Island.

“And what are you having, gorgeous?” Han appeared in front of me, batting his eyelashes. I flicked him on his forehead lightly just because I could. He barely moved and his smile only grew, used to my loving taps.

“I’ll take something with that new blueberry vodka we just got. I think it would be good with-” I was cut off as Han ran over to the shelf where it was.

“I got it! I’ve been thinking about what to do with it all night. See how you like this. I think it’s perfect.” Watching Han work was something to behold. The look of concentration was so intense, you didn’t want to break it. Seeing him focus on one task at a time happened so rarely, it was a wonder he ever got anything done at all.

“Now you owe me a drink if my memory serves me. I’ll take something light please, I’d actually like to be able to drive home tonight.” He rounded the edge of the bar to take my seat as we switched places. I turned my back to the group now excitedly chattering about sports and whatnot to stare at the bottles I got to choose from. After thinking, my lips pursed, I chose something that didn’t take much alcohol, granting him his request. As I switched our drinks to grab mine, I strolled through the back of the bar, my second home, to eavesdrop on all the conversations going on. Smiling to myself, proud of the job by the team in front of me, this family I had made.

***

“Does someone want to tell me why I'm here on my day off?” Hyunjin, decked in casual clothes and sunglasses to ‘hide his eyes from the terror of the sun’ and a drink in front of him. Seungmin was beside him in similar attire having just arrived himself. After the last customer had left the lunch rush, Minho shut the doors behind them and locked them, turning the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’ and leaving the seven of us from the night before sitting once again at the bar in anticipation. Minho called staff meetings only when needed and it seemed whatever situation he deemed necessary, it was rarely good.

“Take off those glasses and I’ll tell you.” Minho replied as he approached us once more, joining me behind the bar to face everyone head on with a signature smirk. Hyunjin scoffed as he refused, grumbling to Seungmin beside him. “Okay losers. I found a new dishwasher. It’s a guy I’ve known for a while so he shouldn’t be any trouble. He’s fallen on some hard times so I thought it might be good for him to come work with us. Everyone is going to be on their best behavior, right?”

“Why, are we meeting him now?” I asked simply, not sure what this big meeting was for.

“Yes actually. He’s staying at the hotel next door ad he’s waiting out back for me to bring him in. I called you all here to meet him and to make sure everyone was on the same page. Yeah?” Minoh widened his eyes just enough to stare everyone directly in the eye to see their resolution for peace and calm before he was satisfied and exited through the kitchen doors to fetch whoever this guy was, wiping his hands on his apron along the way. The rest of us looked around at each other, slightly scared of what he could possibly be bringing in.

“This couldn’t be said in a text?” Hyunin said under his breath.

“No proof, no trail.” Seungmin replied. We all nodded.

Minho returned in a matter of seconds, the mystery guest in tow. He wasn’t entirely short but he wasn’t exactly tall either, his dark hair curly and short and poking out of his black cap. It hung just short of his eyes, dusting his brows with every movement. His eyes were a dark brown, but they were not what I was paying attention to. No, his body was what drew my attention first. His shirt had the sleeves cut off so his muscular arms and peeks of his torso were on full display, cut so low that his chest was almost fully visible to anyone who wanted to take a peek. Which I might have done already when he turned to the side to shake hands with everyone. He greeted everyone with a small smile, chatting for a second with everyone before turning to the next. He introduced himself as Chris. Minho would occasionally call him Chan, making the joke that they were different people. His permanent, shy smile had dropped when he made eye contact with me, drinking in my features like he had all day to do so. He shook his head, trying to get an imaginary fly off of his face and nodded at me. That nod echoed through me as I took him, all of him, in. It was like a bell had gone off in my own mind. For trouble or danger or something else entirely, I didn’t know. But it was all I could hear until Minho’s voice carried through the piercing in my head as I found his eyes again.

“She’s been with me the longest so she’s almost like second in charge without having the title of it. She’s the best around, you won’t find any better than her.” Minho’s proud smile should have comforted me but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had been slighted by him somehow. Changbin interrupted this introduction to ask Minho about a reservation for tonight so his back was turned to us.

“The best he’s got?” He said with the slightest trace of mocking, his eyebrow raised in questioning.

“Of course. I’ve been in this industry long enough to know my way around just about everything.”

“Someone sounds cocky.” Well that’s rude.

“I know what I’m worth.” At least I sounded cooler than I felt. I crossed my arms in front of me as I hardened my features at him, daring him to challenge me. He shrugged his shoulders, brushing me off and turning back to Minho.

“Come on, I’ll show you around.” Minho guided Chris away and led him to the kitchen, Seungmin following close behind to show him everything Minho would deem unimportant. I followed them with my eyes until I could be sure they were out of earshot.

“Can you believe that? The nerve of that guy.” Everything in me felt like yelling at whoever was closest, Hyunjin being the closest target. His face was blank.

“What happened? I wasn’t paying attention.” I sighed, resigned to just let it go until it reared its ugly head again.

“Nothing. Nevermind.”

“Well, since that was it, I’m going to resume my day off activities. I’ll see you troublemakers tomorrow.” Hyunjin rose from his barstool and slid his glasses back over his eyes. He turned his head to face me as he leaned on the bar, leaning his head in closer to me as if to tell me a secret. “I saw that look you gave him. Play nice. I don’t think I can handle more new people coming in and ruining my rhythm.” He feigned brushing his hair off his shoulders. I scoffed at him.

“What rhythm is that?” He trailed away to the door.

“The rhythm of me tolerating those who are already here!” He called from the front doors, halfway open from his outstretched arm. With his other, he pointed a finger at poor Han who was oblivious, gave me an annoyed look, and disappeared through the glass doors.

What look? I wondered to myself. I didn’t give him any specific look… Did I? I shook my head at the thought and continued my prep work for Han’s shift, my mind flitting between thoughts of the new guy and what his problem was between slices of limes and lemons, listening to the chatter behind me grow as the restaurant doors opened for the dinner rush to flood in.

I was gathering the normal clutter for a new table. Napkins piled on top of the extra plates and the only thing left to grab was silverware. But the rack was empty. The only thing to do would be to ask the dishwasher to immediately do a load for some clean ones. This would be my own test to see if Chris could be a professional during service hours. My approach was always to be nice until they hit strike three. He was only at strike one so niceties it was. I pushed the swinging door to find Minho with his back to me, reading a ticket to himself. I marched over to the sink where my target awaited, one headphone in his ear. I tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey Chris, we need more silverware up front. We’re all out.” I said plainly. I waited, watching the back of his head for him to turn to acknowledge me. He didn’t. I tapped him harder. “Hey Chris!” He finally turned, confusion evident.

“What, why are you trying to scare someone who’s working with heavy machinery?”

“I tapped you already and you said nothing. And an industrial dishwasher is hardly heavy machinery. We’re out of silverware up front.” I said just as dry as I had before. I turned to walk away, satisfied with myself. I saw out of the corner of my eye that he hadn’t moved so I stopped to turn back and see that he was still staring at me. “What?” I snipped.

“I didn’t hear a question. Or a certain magic word.” His eyes widened in fake innocence, showcasing for anyone on the outside to see this as playful banter. I knew better, but I had to let him win. He had something I needed and I was ever the chess player in knowing that sacrifices for the short were better for the long run. I took a deep breath and put on my best fake smile.

“Chris, do you mind terribly washing some silverware and bringing it out to us so we can serve our customers and make some damn money? Please.” I batted my eyelashes at him, signaling that this was not over. Not by a long shot.

“Of course I can.” He responded with an equally fake smile. “I’ll bring it out as soon as it’s ready.” He turned back to his sink, grabbing the next bucket of dishes and pulling out the silverware to separate it. I was surprised I wasn’t literally seeing red, my hands were shaking beside me, clenched into fists. I wiped my sweaty palms on my work jeans, desperate for some control over my own body again. Who the fuck was he to question me? Twice in one day too? I think not. I didn’t know how but I would get my revenge one way or another. One day…

But the question was really very simple. Why did I let someone who did not know me get to me so quickly? It had been less than a day and he had already worked his way under my skin, churning the fire I didn’t know was inside. I stopped in the hallway leading to the dining room, taking solace in the darkness and muted noises. I let these thoughts come and go, trying to let them wash over me. If this was how he was, he wouldn’t last very long. Someone would see through him, right? I shook my head and took several breaths, willing my heartbeat to steady out before I went back to my tables.

A slower dinner service than usual allowed Han to work his usual charms on the few lucky ones to sit at his bar. His nights to take full control were almost every other night starting on Sundays, leaving me to either have the days off or work the floor if I needed the money. It was fun to watch him in his element, the easy conversation flowing so naturally with perfect strangers it made anyone wonder if they actually knew each other. I was by the POS station at the edge, counting my tickets to ensure I had them all as the night was dying down. The remaining tables belonged to Jeongin so I was free to sit at the bar until everyone had gone.

I hadn’t seen much of Chris tonight other than the one instance, every other trip I made to the kitchen he seemed to be too occupied with a conversation with Minho or involved in his work to pay much attention to anything else. I was still deciding if I wanted to address his weird behavior or drop it entirely. Until…

I had remembered that I had bought something special for myself and Han after a particularly hard shift weeks prior and it had arrived that morning. I hopped off my stool to grab it from my bag in the office, passing by Chris on his phone in the hallway. His brows were drawn together in concentration and his typing only got more furious after I passed by. I noted it for later dissection.

I returned to Han at the bar with the item behind my back. After he finished, he saw me trying to keep any indication that I was holding a surprise off of my face as best I could. His eyes squinted as he drew nearer, caution written all over his features.

“Whatcha got there, sparky?” He finally spoke as he folded his arms over the counter, leaning his full weight on them as a smile crept over. I whipped out what was behind my back, a rhinestone covered shaker I had found. Han’s eyes got wide with excitement.

“You don’t have to use it obviously if it’s too ‘girly’ for you,” I used my fingers for the air quotes. “But if you want to use it, I’m going to wash it and put it back there. Just remember to hand wash it, don’t send it back to dish. I worry about the stones chipping off or something.” I couldn’t help my smile as Han took it from my hands to examine it, eyes wide. That’s when I felt more than saw another presence coming up behind me.

“What is that?” I could hear the disgust Chris was trying to mask under the layers of feigned curiosity. “I could see it from the kitchen.”

“It’s our new shaker, courtesy of yours truly.” I turned to stare directly into the sun to find his eyes staring right back at me. His brows raised in surprise.

“Oh you bought it for this place? I should call you Sparkles.” He chuckled at his own joke then paused for a moment, his eyes going distant as he watched Han decide where to put our new jewel. “In fact, I think that’s your name from now on.” He said just low enough for only me to hear, giving me a smirk and shuffling off back to the kitchen before I could protest. I rolled my eyes and turned my attention back to Han, proudly displaying our new shaker to anyone who would listen.

An hour later, the floor empty and chairs on top of tables, Jeongin was mopping the stone floor as part of his closing duties. He had drawn the short straw so it was his final duty before he could clock out officially and join the rest of us who had worked that night at our usual spot at the bar. Everyone, sans Seungmin, Hyunjin, and Felix who had been dying to meet the new guy, was waiting for the blonde baker to make an appearance before fully getting into the swing of the evening. Changbin was seated at the end, Minho beside him and fully engaged in the conversation. That left myself, Han, and Chris who was sitting with an empty seat between us. Han was in his usual place behind the bar and asking those who had clocked out what they wanted to drink down at the opposite end. I was busy looking at my phone, catching up on missed notifications while Chris was letting his eyes roam around to take in his surroundings. They landed on Han a few feet away, chatting and laughing with the guys.

“He’s good at that, isn't he.” Not a question. An observation of the world he had waltzed into. More to himself than to me, but I saw my window of opportunity to be the bigger person and I took it. I watched Han do what he did best while mixing different liquids for the men in front of him.

“Yes he is. He’s got a natural knack for people. It’s what makes him good at his job.” He paused, like he wasn’t expecting me to answer, then nodded once in acknowledgement. Then he turned his dark eyes to me and waited until I looked at them to ask his next question.

“And what makes you good at yours, Sparkles? Do you also have a ‘natural knack for people’?” A gentle mix of curiosity and a slight mocking tone in his words. It took me by surprise that he was asking me anything at all.

“No, it’s my ability to judge a person’s character within seconds of meeting them. I knew who Minho was when he introduced himself in primary school.”

“Minho isn’t very hard to read.” He cocked an eyebrow at me.

“Oh I beg to differ.” I cocked one right back. “He’s a master at saying one thing and meaning another. It took me years before he moved away to try and decipher his secret language. You, however…”

He sat back expectantly, a bored expression plastered on his face, waiting for me to dazzle him as my nickname implied. As I drew my pause longer, he shook his head slowly, impatiently at me.

“Yes?

I studied him a moment longer, not quite ready to give up his attention so quickly. I wanted it for some reason, whether it was because I had earned it or some other deep seeded reason to be explored by a therapist. But I wanted his attention for as long as I could keep it. There was something captivating about it. I realized I had been silent for a second too long before I finally spoke.

“You like to tease because it gets a reaction out of people. It keeps their attention on you and you love it. Maybe you didn’t get enough attention as a child or someone took it all away from you. Either way.” I watched his face fall from blank ignorance to stone cold. Nail on the head. “Whatever your parents did, it’s time to forgive them and grow up. You don’t need attention to make people like you.” I felt my smugness flood from my brain straight to my smile as I turned back to my phone. “It’s like I know you already.”

“I promise you don’t.” The quickness of his response snapped my attention back to him. His expression hardened in moments, leaving me with no retort. “I suggest you not parade around claiming to know things you don’t know the first thing about. Hiding behind knowledge you think you have doesn’t suit you. It makes you look ignorant. I would suggest you try to get to know people before assuming things about them. Especially me.” I no longer wanted to be the subject of his attention. I felt the blush involuntarily creep up my cheeks as I tried and begged my eyes to look anywhere but at him. “Let me tell you what I know about you, hm? You’re so buried in your work that you don’t even see what’s happening around you. Take that away and what’s left? Friends? Everyone you know seems to work here. Family? I know by the way you treat your coworkers that you don’t have any. You don’t wear your emotions on your sleeve, you wear them on your face. I can read you like a book.” He had moved off of his seat in the midst of his little speech to lean closer to my face, almost spitting on me several times. He gave a half smile and turned to walk away. I found my brain and my words just in the knick of time.

“I’ve finally got my nickname for you.” I willed my voice to keep from quivering.

“Oh yeah?” He turned back to me, still not far.

“Puck.”

“Puck? Like a hockey puck?” “Like from Shakespeare. He’s a character in A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

“Ah. And why is that relevant?”

“Because he’s a donkey. And you’re an ass.”

I grabbed my bag and bolted for the door, ignoring the shouts of protest and questions about where I was going. I felt someone bump into my shoulder as I ran, not bothering to turn to see Felix before shouting an apology and running to my car before anyone saw my tears.

***

“I just don’t understand, Felix. He’s known me less than a day and he already hates me? Tell me how that makes sense.” Sitting across from Felix in his own bakery was my favorite way to spend my days off. He had made such a cozy place to call his own. Cases of baked goods lined the sides with the counter facing the glass front doors. The blue walls had cute pictures of animals all over them, ranging from cats to dogs to bunnies and ferrets to baby chicks and wolf pups to piglets running around in grass fields or playing in mud. I wondered where he got them all from but I hadn’t dared ask. There were fake vines and flowers hanging from the ceiling, creating the feel of being in a pastel forest dream. White steel chairs and tables were spread across the small room and just outside the doors, people enjoying his products were seen constantly with smiles and laughter.

A yellow plate with the wrapper from his newest cupcake flavor, Cherry Lime Surprise, in front of me, Felix stopped me mid-rant.

“And what exactly did he say to you again?” I scoffed.

“Ha! Which time? When he questioned my abilities just after Minho told him I was the best he had, not only insulting me but Minho too? Or when he made me stop and say please when we needed more silverware in the middle of service when I had other shit to do? Or, my personal favorite, when he called me a friendless workaholic with no family and my head up my own ass? Which time are you referring to, Felix?” I had to scoff again, lost in my own thoughts. “It’s ridiculous. He doesn’t even know me. What makes him think he can pass such definite judgment on me?”

“He seemed to be in a sour mood after you left last night. He apologized that he wasn’t in a happier mood. Said he had a bad night and had to leave shortly after you did. The other guys say he’s fine, he jokes around with them and everything. Minho said he was a childhood friend.” “Yeah well so am I. I know he would believe me if I told him but I also know he would tell me to deal with it myself. And I don’t want to have to run to him if I ever have a problem with someone he hires.”

“You literally never have.” Felix gave his best comforting smile, making his eyes sparkle.

“Maybe not. But I don’t want to start now.”

“Why is he bothering you so much? He doesn’t know you so why does his opinion matter?” Now that was a thinker.

“Well, if I’m going to see him so often working there, I thought we could get along. Be friends even. Or at least friendly. But with the way he’s acting after only knowing me a day, I don’t see that happening.” I pushed the plate away towards him, nudging him that I wanted another. I widened my eyes to plead, but he saw right through me and grabbed the plate.

“You have to pay for this one!” He called to me. I followed him up there to do exactly that. “And don’t over tip me! You’re paying too much already.”

“Try and stop me! It’s my way of paying you for listening to me rant about nothing.” I responded as he retrieved my delicious dessert from its case and placed it on my plate to hand to me. I turned the device back to him and grabbed my plate to run away back to my table before he could yell at me. He looked incredulously at the device then back up to me, his mouth agape. I shrugged with my most mischievous smile. “If you tell me it’s too much, I’m just going to double it next time.” I watched his shoulders move up and down dramatically as he threw his head back to look at the ceiling. He stared for a second before coming around the counter to sit in his white chair.

“Anyways. As I was saying.” He narrowed his eyes at me, waiting for me to take a bite before continuing. “If you have to work with him, you only have a few options. The first would be to try and make peace. Remind him you have to work together and see if you can compromise enough to be civil and only talk to him when you need to.” My top lip curled in disgust as I swallowed.

“Or?” I popped the last bit of bliss into my mouth, intent on savoring it while I could.

“Or you could avoid him at all costs. Don’t speak to him. Just ignore him if he tries to talk to you about anything other than work. But I highly advise against this. You do work together now and running away from your problems never works. You know that.”

“Unfortunately, I do. But if I’m going to avoid him effectively, he needs to stay in the kitchen. I won’t bother him if he doesn’t bother me.” Felix took my empty plate from me as I rose to leave, gathering my stuff.

“If that’s how you want to play it, then I’ll be here waiting for it to all go to hell.” He gave me another one of those signature smiles. Every time he flashed me one of those, I knew that everything would be okay. That’s what made Felix such a good friend. He gave good advice but would also be there for you when you ignored it. No matter how much he teased, he never said ‘I told you so’ or judged you when something was your fault. He never threw it in your face when you were wrong, he just patiently waited for you to realize it. He was a good friend, better than I deserved. His sultry voice broke me of my thoughts. “If you want to start your avoiding tactic, now is a great time. He’s across the street on his way over.” I whipped my head around to see Chris dressed in all black with a backpack on his shoulder and indeed headed this way. “He asked if he could come see the place so I told him to come by.”

“Shit.” It was the fastest I had gathered the rest of my things, cursing myself for spreading out so elaborately.

“Use the back door.” Felix, you angel. I told him so as I rushed onto the street outside.

***

“Doesn’t it liven up the place? I think it does.” I stepped back to admire my handiwork. I had lined the shelves of liquor with tiny christmas lights, equipped with a remote to change the colors to anything possible. Changbin was watching me struggle with the different sticky strips to hang them, not offering any helpful suggestions whatsoever but admiring the job once I was done.

“I like it! Can you turn them purple? What about blue?”

“I can do better than that. Watch this.” I pressed the multicolored button on the remote and the lights turned from red to orange to yellow all the way down the rainbow and back again, on a constant loop. I proudly watched Changbin’s face gleam with pride as he watched my lights flicker.

“Yah! I’m so proud of you. You did it all by yourself.” He beamed at me, marveling at them as he walked backwards to the kitchen to discuss tonight’s dinner service with Seungmin. After watching the lights for a little while longer, I pulled out my cutting board and fruits to cut for myself.

I was ready to put my plan into action when Chris walked up to see the commotion.

“I guess Sparkles was the right name for you after all.” He flashed me a quick half-smile. A blink and I would have missed it. “It looks good. Brightens it up.” And then he was gone as quickly as he had come.

What the fuck was that?!

This back and forth was making my head spin. Before I could think too much about it other than my initial reaction, Minho came in through the locked front doors. Which was odd because Tuesdays were his day off, his jeans hanging loosely around his hips and his white tshirt showing off his toned muscles.. His eyes searched around the room for something and landed on me. He nodded, signaling that he was headed for me.

“Why are you here? Don’t you have some expensive wine tasting to attend or something to improve your restaurant?” I gave a sickeningly sweet smile, flashy all of my teeth for him.

“Haha, very funny.” He narrowed his eyes and grimaced. “Where’s Chris?”

“Probably in the back.” I waved my hand in the direction I implied.

“Good. Don’t move. I want to talk to you both.” Uh Oh…

I quite literally couldn’t move, my brain jumping from thought to thought and never quite landing on a reason why he would want to talk to the both of us. Had Felix told him everything? No, he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t betray my trust like that. Minho came back with Chris, an apron tied around his waist and wiping his hands off with a towel before slinging it over his shoulder.

“What’s up, Minho?” I couldn’t help my suspicious tone.

“I want you to train Chris behind the bar starting Monday next week.” He bore into my eyes, daring me to protest. I knew better. Chris had moved his attention to me, a smug smile spreading across his features.

“Why?” Questioning was okay.

“We were talking a few nights ago about how he wanted to learn mixology and there’s no one better to learn from. Chris, before you start to protest, keep in mind that she’s the best in the business when it comes to training. She taught Han everything he knows. If you want to learn, you learn from her.” He turned to me, wiping the smug look off my face when I heard his tone from the first word.

“And you. You can teach anyone, I know you can. You can whip anyone into shape, I've seen it. Give him a chance and you might just see the potential that I see. If he wants to learn, why shouldn’t you be the one to teach him?” He leaned back pushing off the counter, smiling to himself. Like he was proud of making us work together. Like he hadn’t just given me the biggest test of my patience I had no intention of acing a minute ago.

“Oh by the way,” he turned, clearly headed for the back door to the parking lot. “Both of your jobs depend on it. So play nice.” I could swear I just saw devil horns poking through his hair just then as he smirked and twirled on his heel. He sauntered away and whistled some unknown tune, seemingly unaware of the bomb he had just dropped in front of me, its faint ticking in time with his retreating footsteps.

“Can I call you Professor Sparkles?” He had leaned in closer so I could hear his whisper. The urge to slap the smugness off of his face was heavy. My hand may have twitched. On its own, of course. The smile he was sporting was dangerous. Time to throw caution to the wind. I leaned in as well, not wanting anyone else to hear what I was saying.

“Alright Puck. You wanna play?” I leaned in an inch closer, my lips tugging at the corners. “Then let’s play.”

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hyunfilms · 2 years

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based on a feeling | masterlist

“oh, i love you, but i’m so scared; still want you near, face my fears— ‘cause if i could choose who could break my heart, baby it’ll be you.”

♡ spotify playlist

—summary: throughout all of life's major ups and downs, the only thing that remains constant in your life is chan. but even as chan remains unchanging, your perspective of him starts to shift and your feelings for him start to grow.

—pairing: bang chan x f. reader

—genre: (18+) bestfriends to lovers au | fluff, angst, smut

—general warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, jealousy, insecurities - additional warnings will be posted for each chapter.

—release: tbd

♡ table of contents ;

one: tbd

#bang chan series #bang chan fanfic #bang chan x reader #chan series #chan fanfic #chan x reader #stray kids series #stray kids x reader #bang chan smut #bang chan angst #bang chan fluff #chan smut #chan angst #chan fluff #stray kids fanfiction #hyunfilms: based on a feeling

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zanephillips · 27 days

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VINCENT RODRIGUEZ III Crazy Ex-Girlfriend 4.10 "I Can Work with You"

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becomingmina · 3 months

Text

Mad - fluff and suggestive w/Chan. 18+ only mdni

Mad series is here 🤍

“Please! Can we go out?” You tugged at your boyfriend’s shirt.

You and Chan were tangled up on the couch on a Friday afternoon. When he had told you his afternoon was free you were quick to straddle his lap, begging for him to take you out. He laughs at your eagerness while he was laying on his back with one arm under his head, the other caressing your thigh.

“I have to wake up early tomorrow. Can’t we just stay home? We can play some games and order in,” he tried to convince you.

“But you’re finally free for the afternoon and we have like..” you counted your fingers “.. we have like 7 hours before you can wind down..” you begged with a pout.

“Or we can do something else for 7 hours baby,” he suggested with a smirk, inching his hand up higher on your thigh.

“But I got this pretty dress—” you huffed; you didn’t want to take no for an answer.

“—Then go out by yourself,” Chan sharply replied, removing his hand from you to join the other one under his head. You can tell he wasn’t serious evidently by his smile, but you were.

“Maybe I should.”

“Good.. I get to rest more without you on me,” he scoffed, playfully.

“Pffffft, you want me on you!” You rolled your eyes.

“Not today baby. Go.” he flickers his eyes to the front door then back at you.

“Fine.”

You got off him and went into your shared bedroom, sitting on the bed in silence. You were waiting for him follow you and maybe change his mind about not going but he never entered the bedroom. You rolled your eyes and decided to check what he was up to, slowly opening the door to peek, only to see him asleep, his cheeks was pressed up against the surface of the couch.

“Gosh..” you smiled at your sleep-deprived boyfriend. He looked so worn out, so cute like this, you know you couldn’t force him out..

..But you were still longing to get out, itching for a boost of confidence. You had just ordered a pretty dress online and it finally arrived. You wanted to wear it, wanted to doll up since all you have been in the past couple of weeks was Chan’s big t-shirt and sweatpants feeling a little ugly.

You sat back on your bed again, pondering what you should do with the rest of your day, what you should do to make you feel better.

You pulled out your phone, dialling a number. “Hey, you wanna go out S/GF/N?”

While your boyfriend was still passed out, you got ready to go out with the girlfriends of the other boys and threw in a quick nap. You straighten your hair, put on your make up before slipping on the dress. It was just a simple black halter body-con dress, but you felt extremely sexy in it.

It was 7pm by the time you were done with everything. You strutted out with a pair of high heels towards your boyfriend who had just woken up, occupied on his phone.

“Hey baby, how was your sleep?” You ask softly, bending down to give him a peck on his cheek.

“Good,” he says pulling you onto his lap as he sat up.

He locks his phone before looking up at you, gasping at your appearance.

His eyes widen, travelling from your shoulders down the curve of your body to your legs then back up to your pretty face. He found you extremely sexy like this, not that he never thought you weren’t. But it’s also been a while since he saw you all dressed up.

“Woah.. Where.. Where you going pretty girl?” He stuttered.

“Out! Gonna go clubbing!” You say cheerfully, wrapping your arms around him while his drops around your waist.

“Y/N, were you serious?” He was taken off guard at your quick reply.

“Yeah, I told you I wanted to go out,” a hint of desideration showing.

“Baby— but with who?” It was his turn to whine now.

“With the girls now since you didn’t want to go,” you teased him and Chan shoots you a guilty smile. “I wanted to be pretty today. My pretty dress finally arrived.. Look,” your hand smooths over the hem of your dress before pointing at the neckline, showing it off to your boyfriend.

“You are pretty, always will be baby,” he says caressing your arm and looking up at you in adoration. “Now I’m mad.. at myself.”

He’s mad at himself. He feels like a bad boyfriend not registering your cues of you wanting to feel and look pretty. He retraces back to the past couples of week how you have been cooped up in his apartment in nothing but lounge wear, you couldn’t even dress yourself up for work since you work from home. Although you have always been the prettiest to him, he understands how you feel. You were just a girl, his girl.

“Why?”

“That I’m going to be home by myself now while my pretty girlfriend will be out in this sexy dress.. all because I didn’t know she wanted to feel pretty,” his eyes traces down your body one more time, feeling his start to get flushed.

“Is it too late?” he genuinely asked.

You laugh. “Mhmm, the other girls are ready to go.”

“You really going to leave me like this?” He looked down to the area you weren’t quite sitting on, indicating to something that was growing hard, but you just laugh. You were already running behind, so he just has to suck it up and wait till you come back so you can take care of him.

“I’ll let you kiss me, but I will have to leave you like this,” He smiled at you before pulling your face closer, letting your lips finally touch each other. He deepens the kiss quickly and you let him have his way for a little bit until pulling back completely.

“Can I’ll drop you?”

“Are you sure?” You didn’t want to bother him. After seeing him pressed up against the couch exhausted, you feel guilty because he never has time to himself.

“Of course! I would love to do my boyfriend duties for my baby.”

You had blast to be very honest. You have never felt this sexy and confident in a while. And to feel this way all night with the best of your friends was very special to you. You enjoyed girls night alot, but there were moments where you missed Chan. But you knew he was going to be home waiting for you so you just had to wait till the end of the night to see him again.

“How was it?” He asked the second you got into his car.

“It was fun. We drank and danced alot and.. I missed you heaps,” you slurred cheerfully, drunk and a little horny.

“Missed me?” He smirked.

“Mhmm, missed you Channie,” you pouted reaching out for his hand.

“Gotta go home first..” he says as he lets you hold his hand. “Gotta go home first and then I’ll let you show me how much you missed me.” He gives you a flirty glance and pull his hand to your lips, pecking the back of it.

“How did you feel though?”

“I feel sexy, Channie,” you confess.

“I’m happy to hear that. You look so extremely sexy tonight baby,” he complimented, making sure you know he acknowledges your feelings.

Once you got home, he instantly drags you into the bedroom, pushing you to sit in the bed.

“Missed you so much..” he crouches down and steady himself by his hands on either side of you. “I can’t believe I rather sleep than go out with you today..” planted a kiss to your shoulder making you giggle. “..I’m such bad boyfriend..” he continues and you nod.

“Such a bad boyfriend for my good Y/N,” he kisses your other shoulder before pushing you down on the bed.

“Hmm, you’re such a bad boyfriend,” you jokingly agreed, pulling him ontop of you as you make space for him in between your legs.

“You gonna let me make it up to you?” His hands inches up your thigh, bunching up your dress.

“Yes Chan please. Make it up to me..” you couldn’t wait any longer now, practically whining underneath him. “Just wanted to be pretty for you today..” you say breathless and he starts to nip the skin on your neck.

“No.. no more…” you whimpered as he pulls outs of you. You were out of breath, close to blacking out.

“Okay okay.. shhh shh.. that was last one, my pretty girl..” Chan comforted you after coating 5 orgasms out of you. He wiped you down before throwing the towel away, pulling you into his chest.

“Ohh— is it 5 already?” He questioned after glancing at the alarm clock which made you look up to confirm.

It has been 4 hours since he peeled your dress off you. And although you were wrecked, it was worth every second.

“I got no sleep.. Gotta call off practice,” he says and your face immediately lits up. The tiredness gone the second you know he was finally going to be home on a Saturday morning. He smiles at you before reaching out for his phone and unlocking it.

Chan Practice cancelled for today

Seungmin Why?

Chan Gotta deal with Y/N

You watch as he converses with his group members. “Okay but then thats makes me seem annoying,” you complain and he looks down at you.

“She’s sick?” He chuckles, with a raised eyebrow.

“But then I don’t want them to think you took the day off just because I’m hung over,” you complained again, with a fake pout.

“Should I just tell them the truth then?” He suggests, placing a kiss to your forehead. “Tired from fucking Y/N since she came back from the clubs,” he says and you playfully hit his chest getting all shy at how he blew your back just a couple minutes ago.

“They all will understand. I’m sure they missed their girlfriends too,” he said, throwing away his phone and pushing your head in his chest so you can finally rest.

“Since I’m home today baby..” he starts, and you hummed. “What do you want to do when we wake up?”

{🏷️ Taglist for this series: @lolareadsimagines}

#becomingmina #skz #stray kids #skz smut #stray kids smut #bang chan #chan smut #skz requests #bang chan smut #Chris smut #mad series #chan suggestive #bang cahn suggestive #chan fluff #bang chan fluff

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godslino · 3 months

Text

MIGRATION | bang chan first date series. strangers to lovers.

pairing: bang chan x fem!reader word count: 5.5k genre: fluff, romance, falling in love at first sight summary: you've never been lucky when it comes to dating, but a blind date with chan just might turn that around

author’s note: hello and welcome to my first date series!! i seriously had so much fun writing this and i’m so excited to continue with the other members. i hope you all enjoy! if you liked it, please remember that any and all feedback is appreciated!! happy reading <3

“So…I know a guy.”

You groan, throwing your head back against the cushion of the booth you’re currently shoved into. Changbin drops his fork to gesture at you with his hand, a look of exasperation on his face.

“Come on, I haven’t even said anything yet!”

“The problem is that you’ve said anything at all.” You say, glaring at him as you reach for your drink.

Changbin, as much as you love him, is notorious for being the worst wing man in the history of wing men. His most recent pick, Jooyoung, was a friend of his from high school. A freelance writer, the owner of a snazzy apartment in one of the more sophisticated districts of Seoul, and conveniently single. They’d recently reconnected after a mutual friend threw a party that they both went to, and he was ecstatic to try and set the two of you up.

You’d been reluctant, rightfully so, but Changbin is anything but a quitter and you also just so happen to be the world’s biggest pushover (his pout is just too good, okay?), so you’d agreed on the off chance that it just might work out.

Long story short, it didn’t.

Jooyoung was probably the biggest asshole you’d ever been on a date with. Not that you were surprised, though. Changbin’s circle of friends when he was younger mainly consisted of grade-A douchebags who were born with a golden spoon in their mouths. Perks of being born into a wealthy family and attending one of the most elite private schools in the country, apparently. Changbin had attended a university on the outskirts of Seoul for a reason. Lesser known, laid back—to study music of all things—and the sole reason for his father’s headache, as he’d put it. That’s where he met you.

“Okay, but I think this guy might be the one.” He makes air quotes around the two words, and you scoff as you cross your arms.

“And what would you know about that?”

“Um, a lot? You’re my best friend, I know exactly what you’re looking for.”

This is the part where things go south—or so you assume. Changbin puts on the puppy eyes, jutting his bottom lip out to hell as he stares at you from across the table. You glare at him dead on, unwavering. He won’t get you this time. Not over your dead body.

“At least let me tell you about him?”

“No.”

“I met him at the company. He makes music just like me, only slightly better. And you know how I am, I don’t just say that stuff. That means he’s really good.”

Choosing to ignore him, you go back to poking at your noodles.

“He’s from Australia. Born here, moved there when he was young, then moved back to pursue music. Kinda ballsy if you ask me. But he speaks English, so at least communication won’t be as much of an issue as other guys.”

A small crack in your composure. The idea of this guy growing up somewhere other than Korea is…pretty intriguing.

Despite moving here three years ago for school, it’s still kind of hard to communicate when your Korean could be more polished than it is. You’d basically kept to yourself for the first year until you met Changbin. He’d easily integrated you into his group of other music majors, even though you stuck out like a sore thumb as both a foreigner and a stem major. But if it weren’t for him, you think that you might’ve hauled ass back home a long time ago due to the isolation. So to be introduced to someone who can speak english, under the prospect of possibly dating them, sparks a bit more interest.

Changbin notices the slight twitch of your brow and smirks, one side of his mouth pulling downwards. Bastard.

“Hmm, what else? Oh! Dude’s got a killer set of dimples. You’re into that, aren’t you? You used to go on and on about that younger guy in your physics class during senior year. What was his name—Jeongsuk? Jeong—Jinyoung? Jeongin! It was Jeongin.” Changbin snaps his fingers like he’s impressed with his own memory, pointing at you as you fix him with a blank stare. “He has dimplessss.” He sing-songs for emphasis.

And, really, this should not be the breaking point. You’re better than this. You’re not so shallow that you would throw away your pride for a man you’ve never met—let alone never seen before—all because he has dimples.

But, once again, you’re a pushover. A big one. So yeah, fuck it.

“What’s his name?”

Changbin blinks like he wasn’t expecting you to fall for it. “Seriously? That’s what got you?”

“You have five seconds to tell me his name before I change my mind.”

He scoffs, mouth agape. “I went as far as disregarding my own talents to play up this guy and his music making abilities—”

“Five.”

“—tried to give you a little bit of a backstory, too—”

“Four.”

“—and the dimples are the final nail in the coffin?”

“Three.”

“Chan! His name is Chan. God. Just—stop counting. It freaks me out.”

Chan. You throw the name around in your brain for a bit, pointedly ignoring the way Changbin is whining about how you sound like his mother when you do the whole number thing. It’s kind of…cute. Not enough to conjure up an idea of what he might look like, but putting a name to a faceless stranger with dimples in your head is gonna have to do for now.

“You swear this guy is normal?”

Changbin rolls his eyes. “Define normal.”

“Okay, let me rephrase myself,” you push your plate forward, laying your forearms on the table as an indicator that you’re serious, “Is he an asshole?”

“No.”

“Hm. Okay. So that’s a maybe.”

“What the fuck? I just said no.”

“Yeah? You also set me up with Jooyoung, remember? The guy who literally started flirting with the waitress right in front of me five minutes into our date? And then proceeded to yell at her when his fries weren’t salted?”

“How was I supposed to know…” Changbin mumbles, looking off to the side guiltily.

“Nevermind. Just—if this goes bad, I’m blaming you. And then I’m never going on a blind date with one of your friends again. Matter of fact, I’m never going on a date again, period. Deal?”

Changbin grins, the apples of his cheeks shiny under the restaurant lighting. He holds his hand out for you to shake, and you take it hesitantly, grimacing when he uses his strength to jostle your arm like a ragdoll.

“Deal.”

🎥🍿

Any hope you had for the date going smoothly starts to dwindle once Chan texts you the day of.

You’d gotten his number from Changbin, who had so kindly already given Chan your number before he’d even broached the subject with you. The resulting lecture about privacy and consent may or may not have extended the rest of your time at the restaurant, a sheepish Changbin rubbing at the back of his neck while you berated him for his lack of common sense.

When your phone buzzes on your bathroom counter, Chan’s name flashing across the screen, you mistakenly think that he might be messaging because he’s early. Which, given the fact that you were standing in nothing but a towel, hair still wet from your shower and face covered in moisturizer you hadn’t rubbed into your skin yet, would be less than ideal.

Chan [12:32p.m.]

Hey! I’m really sorry to have to do this, but can we push the date back an hour?

Something came up at the studio

I tried to get out of it but I have a deadline to meet, client probably won’t be too happy of their track isn’t done on time

Great. Already off to a rough start.

In his defense though, you appreciate the fact that he’s messaged a whopping two hours in advance. Most people probably wouldn’t be bothered to allow that much of a grace period.

You [2:33p.m.]

no worries!!!

you didn’t buy the tickets yet, did you?

Chan [2:34p.m.]

Nope! So we should be fine

I’ll purchase them for 6 and then be there to scoop you up around 5:30 if that’s cool?

You [2:36p.m.]

sounds perfect

hope stuff goes well at the studio!!

Chan [2:40p.m.]

You’re sweet

Thank you, I’ll see you soon :)

You’re sweet. You stare at the words on the screen, your brain buffering for a moment. A big fat loading circle floating above your head.

Suddenly it’s way too hot in the bathroom. You blame the fact that you shower with the water cranked all the way up to boiling, because really there’s no other explanation for the warmth spreading throughout your cheeks.

To be fair, it’s been almost a year now since you’ve had any sort of positive interaction with another male. On one hand, your last relationship ended in a ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ ordeal that most definitely gave the impression that it was you. On the other hand, most of the dates you’ve been on have ruined themselves within the first five minutes, never really giving you the chance to feel any sort of connection. Cocky attitudes, overly pushy encounters, and even someone who walked into the cafe you were seated at, took one look at you, and walked right back out. That one still hurts.

It’s a little sad that Chan is the only guy out of the mix whose elicited any sort of reaction out of you. Especially since you haven’t even met him yet.

The extra hour that you have to compensate for flies by a lot quicker than you expect, and before you know it Chan is messaging that he’s five minutes away.

You take one last glance in the mirror: a pair of light wash jeans that sit right above your hips, black halter top bodysuit, and a thin cream colored cardigan to tie it all together. Simple and cute. A movie date doesn’t really call for all the dramatics, and you’d hate to overdress for a first impression.

You’re in the middle of reapplying your chapstick when the doorbell rings.

Take it easy, you say to yourself, inhaling deeply as you reach for the door handle. You let the air out with one final huff, swinging the door open only to be met by a bouquet of daisies directly in front of your face.

You blink in surprise. Well that’s a first. Before you get a chance to speak, the bouquet is being lowered, and the moment Chan’s face comes into view causes a small gasp to fall from your lips.

He’s…cute. Beautiful, even. A bright smile, dimples that tuck themselves into his laugh lines as his eyes disappear into crescents much like the moon, and lips that make your head spin when his tongue darts out to wet them nervously. His hair falls messily across his forehead in a faded hue of purple with hints of brown, definitely unconventional and an obvious result of one too many washes, but he makes it work. He makes it work well.

He clears his throat, brings a fist up to his mouth to emphasize it, and then grins. “Hi there.”

It takes a second for your brain to catch up. Even his voice is attractive. He’s using english, which leads you to assume that Changbin has already told him that you’re not from here. His accent is there, not too noticeable but also strong enough to be picked up on.

“Hey.” You smile, rubbing a hand up and down your arm.

“These are for you. I, uh, as an apology for being late. Is it too much?”

You shake your head quickly. “No! No, these are—they’re beautiful. I love them. Thank you…Chan.” His name rolls off your tongue hesitantly, but it all disappears as soon as he flashes that smile again.

“Good, I’m glad,” his voice catches the breathy end of the laugh he lets out, “This is weird, isn’t it? I’m sorry, I don’t really do well with this kind of stuff. But you look really nice, and I’m excited. My car is parked just out front if you’re ready to go.”

Honest. Awkward. A laugh that makes you want to hear it over and over again. You were sold the minute his eyes met yours. Chan offers his elbow for you to take like you’re in some cheesy romance movie from your childhood.

Yeah. This one is definitely gonna go well.

🎥🍿

Chan might not show it, but he’s just as nervous as you are.

You wouldn’t be able to tell at first glance that he spent an entire forty-five minutes deciding on an outfit, only to settle with some jeans and a white shirt, a jacket thrown on top for some color.

When Changbin first proposed the idea of going on a date with you, he was adamant that he wasn’t looking for anything right now. But as soon as you opened the door, eyes wide and looking like the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, he’s glad he said yes.

“So what movie are we seeing?” you ask, frowning when Chan laughs. “What? What’s funny?”

“It’s a surprise.” He smiles, rushing forward to hold the door of the car open for you. When he puts his hand against the top part to block your head, you have to suppress the smattering of butterfly wings that start to clamor against your ribcage.

Chan is sweet. He double checks that you’re buckled in before driving off, he asks if there’s any specific music you want to listen to before foregoing it all entirely to ask about you instead, he listens with an attentiveness that has you feeling seen and heard, and he smiles with such genuinity and warmth that you feel cold once it disappears. You stare at him in awe, like he’s a figment of your imagination.

Chan’s been staring back, too. He spares glances in your direction when you’re not looking, feels the steady thump of his heart gradually increase whenever you lean a little too far to the left when he makes you laugh, and he thinks your voice is prettier than anything that’s ever played on the radio.

You learn more about him as he drives. He moved back from Australia when he was seventeen, he’s got two younger siblings and an adorable puppy named Berry back home (and pictures on his dashboard to prove it), he prefers Australia’s summers over Seoul’s winters but he finds more inspiration here in the city than anywhere else. You resonate with the fact that he doesn’t really have anyone here besides a small circle of friends. No family, no one to fall back on when things get tough.

Chan talks like he’s an old friend, like he’s re-telling a story you’ve heard a thousand times. He makes it easy to fall into step with him as if you’ve been here all along.

By the time the two of you get to the movie theater, the initial awkwardness that had hung in the air is gone, replaced by comfort and ease. Chan throws the car in park and all but books it out of his seat to open your door for you, and you giggle when he makes a dramatic bow as you exit.

The theater is kind of busy for a Thursday night. There are families with their kids lined up to get tickets and groups of teenagers at the concessions, all of which make for a crowded lobby. Chan glances down when you place a hand on his arm, mostly because you want to stay close, but also because it’s hard to ignore the feeling of being magnetized towards him. He smiles, bending at the elbow to allow your arm to slip into his.

There are cardboard cutouts along the sides of the lobby, all of which serve to promote the newest animated release about a family of ducks. You squint at the showtimes once the two of you make it to the front of the counter, letting your eyes scan the movie titles until you finally land on—

“Two tickets for Migration, under Bang Chan.”

The girl behind the counter looks up, her eyes bored. She can’t be any older than sixteen, most likely resentful about the fact that she’s stuck here on a school night. “The kids movie?” She asks, unimpressed.

Chan braves a glance in your direction and—ah, there goes that grin again. Cue the butterflies. You’d agree to a three hour long showing of static and white noise if it meant he’d never stop doing that.

“Yup, that’s the one.”

Tickets in hand, a smiling Chan right next to you, and a massive line for popcorn that honestly might have the two of you late for the previews. “We’re seeing a kids movie?” You ask, moving up a spot in the line.

“Mmhm. I spent so long looking at all the options. The romcoms seemed boring, Bin mentioned that the newest superhero movie was bad, and I figured a scary one was too cliché,” he eyes you sidelong, “Unless you’re into that.”

You huff out a laugh, not really expecting him to be so straightforward, “I definitely am not.”

“Hm, so the old yawn to put my arm around you trick won’t work?” His eyes are playful, but something about the idea of being in even more contact with him has your stomach doing flips.

“Nope. Sorry. Seen that one before.” You say, making him laugh, his earring dangling when he drops his chin towards his chest.

“I guess I’ll have to figure out something else then.”

Another thing you learn about Chan is that he enjoys interesting food combinations.

“You like peanut m&ms?” he asks, throwing a bag of them onto the counter when you nod your head. After he pays, he pockets his wallet and turns to you with a bucket of popcorn tucked under his arm and a large drink with two straws in his hand. “Could you grab the candy?”

First door, theater one. There are a bunch of parents and their kids entering ahead of you, all of them buzzing with excitement. It’s a little funny, the fact that two grown adults—no kid in tow—are walking into the showing of a kids movie.

Chan leads you to the very back row. “For the kids, just in case they can’t see over us.” He quickly clarifies after noticing the way your eyebrows shoot up in silent question, but even in the dim lighting you can still see the tips of his ears turning pink.

“Taking me to a kids movie and then propositioning me in the presence of five year olds? You’ve got some nerve.” You say, timing it perfectly as Chan is leaning forward to take a sip of the drink that’s placed in the cupholder between the two of you. He sputters around the straw in surprise, coughing into his fist.

“That’s not—” You laugh, cutting him off as he stares at you with red eyes from his coughing fit. The mood shifts after that, and Chan visibly relaxes into his seat as he starts throwing jokes out a lot easier than before.

“Learned this from my dad,” he says, opening the bag of m&ms, “It’s my favorite thing to do at the movies. Haven’t been in a while because—well, I don’t really have anyone to go with.”

You watch as he dumps the candy into the popcorn bucket, shaking it to mix everything together. He reaches in to grab a piece of popcorn and an m&m at the same time, popping it into his mouth.

“Oh my god,” he sighs, slumping into his seat, “Forgot how good that is.”

When you don’t respond, he looks over. “You okay?”

Are you? You’re not sure. Every bone in your body is screaming bloody murder because Chan is making it really hard to not want to lean over and kiss the concerned frown off of his stupidly pretty face.

The thing about it is that you don’t do blind dates. And you most especially don’t enjoy them. But Chan is different. Chan holds doors open for you and makes corny jokes. Chan laughs at everything like it’s his last day on earth and he’s making up for lost time. Chan listens when you talk and responds with genuine interest. Chan compliments the little girl in the theater lobby who’s wearing a princess dress to watch the new superhero movie. Chan shares something as special as his dad’s favorite movie snack with you. Chan is just…Chan. And you like him. A lot.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay, I’m just—thank you. For sharing that with me.” You say, the corners of your mouth lifting.

“Stop doing that.” He mumbles, eyes trained ahead.

“Doing what?”

“Smiling. It makes my head spin.”

Your heart slams against your chest. You’ve spent the entire date trying to make sense of the way Chan makes you feel, trying to put it all into words. Yet here he is, right in front of you, saying his thoughts as they come and absolutely ruining your resolve in the process. Like it’s easy for him.

There’s no time to answer when the lights go down, the screen up front widening to signal the start of the movie.

Just like any other kids movie, it’s easy to get caught up in all the surface level jokes while also understanding the themes. You and Chan laugh outwardly at some parts, hold your breath at the suspenseful ones. It’s almost like you’re a kid again, enjoying yourself fully for the first time in a really, really long while.

Chan was right, the popcorn and m&m combination is good. You reach back into the bucket for more, freezing when Chan does the same and his knuckles brush yours in the slightest of touches, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. It happens a few more times, each one leaving his hand lingering for far longer than the last, until eventually he makes a show of digging really hard for an m&m and hooks his pinky with yours in between the popcorn. It’s cheesy and cliché but god does it make your stomach do somersaults.

About three-quarters of the way through the movie, when it’s clear that neither one of you are willing to take it the next step further, you lean into his ear.

“You okay? You look kind of tired.”

Chan turns, confused. He’s certain that he wasn’t dozing off. He did have a late night last night. He was up working on the track that still somehow managed to hold him back today, hoping to have everything polished so that he didn’t run into any obstacles before your date. But that didn’t really work out in the end.

“Huh? No, I’m fine. Honest.”

“You sure?” you ask, a slight lift to your voice, “I don’t know, you looked like you were about to yawn.”

The light from the movie hits the left side of his face, illuminating all of his features in a way that makes your breath hitch. He’s pretty. So, so pretty.

Chan blinks, slow, and then his confusion slowly turns to one of understanding. Cue the grin.

“You know, now that I’m thinking about it…I am kind of tired.” He makes a show of fake yawning, stretches his arms above his head (and not blocking any children since you’re in the back row, thankfully), before bringing his right arm down and around your shoulders.

You spend the rest of the movie like that, tucked into Chan’s side while his fingers move gently against your shoulder. He’s unbelievably warm, and eventually you find your head resting in the spot just between his shoulder and his neck, his cheek pushed up against the side of your head. The position makes it easier to reach up and pat his eyes dry at the end, a single tear slipping out as he sniffled and mumbles a ‘M’not crying’ that has you giggling and doting all over him.

He doesn’t move his arm for the entire walk back to the car, and you momentarily mourn the loss when he opens the door for you (again!) so you can climb in. When he finally gets in on the other side, he says nothing, just reaches over to intertwine his fingers with yours and places your joined hands on the center console like it’s something you’ve done a thousand times.

“Ready to go home?” He asks, looking over at you.

You glance down at your hands, then back up at him. “Is it weird if I say no?”

“Not at all,” Chan grins, throwing the car into drive, “I was hoping you would say that.”

🎥🍿

“For you.”

Chan plops down on the bench, a hand outstretched with a steaming hot chocolate ready for you to take.

“Thanks,” you smile, cradling the cup between your hands.

After some deliberation, you and Chan had decided to come to the Han River. It’s quiet, the bridge lights reflecting off the water as the sounds of the city fade into the background. The temperature is slightly on the colder side, the tail end of winter just barely there. When he notices the slight shiver of your shoulders after a particularly strong gust of wind, Chan shucks his jacket off in a heartbeat to drape over you.

“Oh, you don’t—”

“You’re cold,” he scolds, pulling at the collar of the jacket to tighten it around you. His hand lingers near the base of your neck, fingers itching to reach out and touch. He doesn’t though, just smiles and settles back into the bench. “Plus I think Changbin might actually kill me if something were to happen to you.”

“Oh please,” you roll your eyes, “Ignore him. I’m not a baby.”

Chan takes a sip of his own hot chocolate, licks his lips to catch the excess. Not that you’re staring. “I’m serious. I mean, I get it. He told me that you’re here alone and stuff.”

You hum in understanding, turning your head to stare out at the water. “So are you.”

It’s Chan’s turn to look at you now, his elbows resting against his knees, and you watch out of the corner of your eye as his face turns unreadable.

The silence stretches thin, nothing but the sound of cars passing and a dog barking nearby. It’s kind of comforting in a way. Being on your own in a new place has been one of the hardest transitions you’ve ever had to deal with. There were times where it felt like a mistake, where you wished that you’d never even gotten on the plane. But then there were times where you felt lucky to be experiencing the things you are; to be able to try new things and pursue a life for yourself that you never thought possible.

“How’d you do it?” you ask quietly, turning to meet Chan’s gaze. “I mean, you were young. Seventeen is basically still a kid. Being alone in a place like this is scary as an adult, I can’t even imagine what that was like.”

Chan smiles, but it’s sad. His eyes twinkle with something like resentment, the lights from the bridge making it look like he’s glowing. A flame that’ll never burn out. “Would you believe me if I said I’m still figuring it out?” The end of it comes out as a laugh, but you can tell he means it.

“I don’t know, being a big shot music producer with deadlines and clients seems pretty figured out to me.”

Chan nods and stares at the cup in his hands. “My parents hated it. Still do, I think.” You don’t say anything. Chan is grateful for that; grateful for the space you’re giving him to explain. “They wanted more for me I guess. But I’m not sure that more would’ve necessarily been what I wanted, you know? I’m content with where I am now. I’m doing something I love, even if it took a while to get here. They don’t see it.” He chews his lip nervously, fingers playing with the soggy material of the paper cup’s rim.

Chan doesn’t know why he’s saying any of this. He’s not the type to completely bare himself out to anyone, to scoop away at his insides until there’s nothing left besides the hollowness he feels whenever he thinks about how he traded his life back home for a life of music. But you’re different somehow. Chan knew since the moment he saw you, felt it in the way your eyes lit up whenever he spoke and in the ease of how well the two of you got along. He was doomed from the start.

“I see it.” you say, your eyes still fixed on the water. “I might’ve only just met you today, but I see it. And I get it, too. Maybe not to the same extent, but the feeling of wanting to do something for yourself even if it meant losing something else. There’s purpose in that, in you. It’s okay to be selfish if it means you’re prioritizing your happiness.” You let the words settle for a bit, hoping that you don’t sound too shallow. When you turn to look at him, he’s already looking back.

“You don’t know me enough to say that.”

“I don’t have to know you to believe in you, Chan.”

A beat of silence, and then he’s laughing, short and punctuated as he lets his head fall forward with a small shake.

“You’re…”

“What? Corny?” you supply, smiling over at him.

“No,” he says, meeting your gaze. “Perfect.”

You huff out an incredulous laugh, looking away to hide the blush that’s spreading across your cheeks. “You can’t just—god, now who’s corny? Huh?”

“I never said I wasn’t corny.” Chan argues, sitting up to face you fully.

“Yeah but you can’t just say stuff like that.”

“Why not? I think you like it.”

Your mouth opens and closes quickly, lost for words. Chan’s closer now, a lot closer than he was before. One arm thrown across the back of the bench, loosely framing you in, he bends it at the elbow to bring a hand up and tuck your hair behind your ear.

“I never said that.” you mumble, your gaze flicking down to his lips and then back up again.

“You want me to stop then?” he asks, voice just above a whisper. You know what he’s implying the minute his fingers trace the shell of your ear, moving down slowly until they start playing with the collar of his jacket.

“Is it bad if I say no?”

Chan’s hand is warm to the touch, ice to fire. You lean into it. A moth to a flame, one that’ll never go out.

“Not at all,” he repeats, just like earlier, “I was hoping you would say that.”

A dog barking in the distance. Cars beeping as they pass by. A plane flying overhead. A group of friends laughing as they ride past on their bikes. The minute Chan’s lips connect with yours, everything fades, the sounds warbling together like static. Unintelligible; nothing besides the feeling of Chan kissing you matters.

It’s slow, nothing more than a press, but you feel it in every fiber of your being. Kissing Chan feels like the poles of the earth are colliding, meeting in the middle and sending its molten core spreading throughout your entire body. Warm, warm, warm. Chan is warm. He’s soft and gentle and his lashes tickle your cheeks when his eyes flutter closed halfway through because he was too busy etching your features into his memory.

You’re the first to pull away, admiring the way Chan’s eyes slowly peel open, lips swollen and pink. Unable to resist, you lean in and peck them once more, giggling when he blinks at you in shock.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been as compelled to kiss someone as I was just now.” You smile.

“Me too,” he sighs, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t normally kiss on the first date.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t normally do dates anyways. At least not ones that don’t immediately go up in flames.”

“What about now?” Chan asks, raising an eyebrow. “Have I changed your mind?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. I kind of told Changbin that if this was a disaster I was never gonna go on a date again.”

Chan laughs and pulls you into his side, tucked right under his arm like the shape of him was molded in a way to make sure that you fit perfectly in his embrace.

“Is it bad if I say I like that idea?” He asks, glancing down at where your head is resting against his chest.

“Nope,” you say before leaning up to kiss him once more. He smiles into it when he feels your fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck, humming softly against your lips.

“Worst date ever, then?” he mumbles against your mouth.

“Yeah,” you sigh, pulling back to stare into his eyes, big and brown and brighter than the stars, “Worst date ever.”

[tags: @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny ]