#niniwrites.

Yoongi wakes to a slap to the face.

“Wake up,” the boy says, hands dropping below his chin to grasp at Yoongi’s clothes before shaking him awake. “Come on, wake up. You don’t want Seokjin-hyung to be the one that wakes you.”

A groan slips from chapped lips and Yoongi unwillingly forces his eyes to open, immediately greeted by a rounded nose pressed a little too closely to his face. Sleepy limbs attempt to push the boy away but he only dodges Yoongi's arms and moves to kneel behind him before pushing him to an upright position. Yoongi’s head lolls side to the side, still chasing sleep, but a loud gong breaks through and he snaps to attention.

Now alert, Yoongi takes in his surroundings. Panic starts to bubble inside him when he realizes he isn’t in his crappy apartment, but a hanok of all places. It’s clean and minimalistic, lacking any decor other than the dying plant in the corner. No one else is in the room except the mat he’d been sleeping on, the boy that woke him, and the man that hit the gong standing by the entrance.

“Give it a moment,” the man says, lifting a finger as Yoongi’s mouth snaps shut. “The memories will return so let that sink in then ask me your questions.”

Yoongi opens his mouth anyway, a string of curses ready to be spat, but an invisible force crashes into the forefront of his brain and suddenly, he’s being swallowed by the floor.

/

“I’m fucking drunk. S’all it is…”

Yoongi brings up a ringed hand to harshly rub at his eyes, as though willing away the image of the two odd, handsome men in front of him. The pub’s lighting isn’t that great, just dimming, flickering bulbs that offer enough light to help any drunkard to at least see the floor. It’s just the soju, Yoongi thinks.

“It’s not the soju,” the younger one — the one with the huge, bambi eyes and teeth that resemble a bunny — rolls his eyes. “We’re real, dipshit.”

“Watch your fucking language,” the other one snaps, delivering a sharp jab to Bunny Boy’s ribs. a yelp sounds before he’s swinging but the fist is only caught by the elder, shoving it down impatiently before both of their attention is back on Yoongi. “But Gguk’s right. We aren’t hallucinations. We’re real and we need your help, Min Yoongi.”

“How… How the fuck do you know my name?” he slurs, words slipping and sliding together without his consent.

“You look just like him,” the older one comments, ignoring Yoongi’s original question. “All except the scar. Do you know him? The scarred tyrant king?”

Yoongi takes a sloppy swing but both men just lean back, easily dodging Yoongi’s drunken attacks. “What the fuck are you two even talking about?”

Despite the silly taunts and insults the two have been exchanging since they entered the bar, something somber, ancient, and absolutely terrifying crosses both their faces as they share a knowing look. “Let’s start from the beginning. I am seokjin. This is jeongguk. We’re timeless spirits that exist beyond all mortal realms.”

Yoongi blinks. “What.”

Jeongguk lets out a sigh reminiscent of an old, patient man and gives his hand a little wave. Suddenly, the cloudiness in Yoongi’s mind dissipates and the sluggish feelings in his limbs fade, giving him a new sense of clarity that he hasn’t experienced in years, sober or not. His feline eyes narrow at Jeongguk's hand then rise up to meet Seokjin’s gaze when the man clears his throat.

“We’re spirits that need your help, Yoongi. Do you know of your heritage?”

Yoongi gives a shrug. “I know I’ve descended from some powerful clan but that’s it.”

“You're not wrong. You’re a… type of descendant of the scarred tyrant king, Yeoeul, and his meaningless wars had brought upon waves of death that even our reapers don’t agree with. Our job here is to keep the balance between the living and the dead and your king doppelganger decided to fuck with that. so we need you to kill the king.”

“But killing that king — won’t that just be killing me and my existence?”

Jeongguk shakes his head. “No. You two aren’t directly related by blood. Trust me, Seokjin-hyung and i already followed through all the possible timelines to make sure we’re choosing the right guy to assassinate the tyrant king with the least amount of rippling effect. That’s you, Yoongi.”

“Why can’t you two just kill him?”

“We can’t directly affect mortals and meddle with mortal affairs. We usually have a patron do our bidding for us,” Seokjin replies. “Now, any more questions?”

“What if I can’t kill him? I've never — I’m not a murderer.”

The two share another loaded look. “You must. I’m afraid if you don’t, this world you know will cease to exist.”

Yoongi’s eyes widen in shock. “What?! What do you — that doesn’t make any sense!”

“Think about it,” Jeongguk says. “The tyrant king took too many lives and we must restore balance. If you can’t kill the king and stop him before he starts another war, we must take lives in another era to balance out the lives lost in the previous one.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Yoongi’s brows furrow but before he could utter another question, Seokjin steps forward.

“Mortal minds weren’t made to solve a spirit’s problem but please, trust us on this. Our bosses are righteous beings whose only role is to keep balance and they’ll do anything to keep it that way. Emotions like sympathy and empathy are associated with mortal flaws so they don’t care whose life they have to take to restore balance. That's why it’s up to Jeongguk and I to take the mortals’ side.”

Perhaps it's the sudden clarity granted by the spirits that has Yoongi nodding his head in assent. “Where do I start?”

“Close your eyes and once you wake, your mission will begin.”

/

“Wear this,” Seokjin instructs as he places a satgat on top of Yoongi’s dark locks, adjusting it so that it reveals only below his nose. “This is a small village closest to the palace, you’ll already be branded as an outsider even before you make it obvious with your mannerisms.”

Jeongguk directs Yoongi to a mirror propped up by the wall, swift hands readjusting the hanbok that’s hanging comfortably on his shoulders. “Just refrain from cursing. or talking. You can just converse in grunts, okay?”

Yoongi scowls at their reflection before swatting away Jeongguk's fidgety hands before straightening out his own hanbok himself. “How do I even get to the king, let alone get close enough to kill?”

“He rarely leaves the palace grounds which is why Jeongguk and I got you a job as a gardener,” Seokjin reports. “You’ve just received the news yesterday and today is your very first day. You’ll be moving into the servants quarters as well. Don’t worry, you have little to pack so go and get yourself to the palace.”

Yoongi could barely say another word before he’s being ushered out the door and onto the dusty grounds of the tiny village. Carts of produce and trinkets are rolled haphazardly all over the crowded streets, tables and booths set up in front of hanoks similar to the one that Yoongi had just been kicked out of.

There seems to be only one main street, leading to the edge of the village and the other a pathway merging with worn down roads towards the grand palace, with only a few dead-end alleys in between the larger houses. Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to follow the other commoners dressed similarly as him, beige hanboks with a black and red trim that must signify a position above the peasant class but below the ranking officials.

He keeps his head down as he shuffles with the crowds until they reach the magnificent palace gates. The crowd doesn’t stop there but circles around the perimeter where a less grandiose wooden gate is being guarded by a man in a soldier’s uniform, checking the identification forms of each person. Yoongi starts to panic as he watches everyone around him bring out a piece of paper from their pockets as they wait their turn to be allowed entrance.

“Watch it,” a stranger grunts as they shoulder through impatiently, bumping into Yoongi. The movement causes a slight crinkling noise to sound from his pocket and Yoongi quickly digs into the fabric to pull out a form that states his name (Yoongi) and his occupation (apprentice gardener). It isn’t long until the soldier takes the form, deems it authentic, before he’s handing it back to Yoongi and he’s being nudged inside.

The packed line starts to disperse once they're on palace grounds; everyone seems to know exactly where they’re going.

“You there,” one calls out, a menacing and accusing finger pointed right at Yoongi. He’s dressed similar to Yoongi, beige hanbok with the black and red trim, but the sleeves are cut with gold thread. “Are you Yoongi?”

Yoongi approaches with a hesitant nod. “Yes. I’m the new—”

“The new assistant gardener. I'm Jimin and I am in charge of you.”

The man is only a centimeter or two shorter than Yoongi, dark hair thick but controlled in a uniform sleek ponytail with a black band dashed across his forehead. His eyes are sharp and calculating, full lips pursed into one of impatience. Yoongi catches a flash of recognition on Jimin's face but it’s quickly smoothed away, his face suddenly unreadable.

“Walk quickly,” Jimin says and the both of them start to walk swiftly past the open courtyard where handmaidens mill about. They circle around the pagoda where a luscious garden thrives. Yoongi wonders exactly why an extra gardener was needed, judging from the handful of men and women tending to the meticulously shaped shrubs and bushes.

“You see these shapes?” Jimin stops at shapeless bushes; Yoongi doesn’t comment but nods. “Your job is to trim any outgrown twig or leave that compromises these shapes. just continue to do so until the sun sets.”

“That’s it?” Yoongi can’t help but ask.

Jimin nods, small fingers stroking a petal delicately before his hard gaze returns to Yoongi once more. “That is all. Just do not touch the flowers,” he warns as he finally hands a couple of shears for Yoongi to take. “I have other matters to attend to. However, I will return shortly to see your progress.”

And with that, the scary small man departs.

/

Maybe the biggest inconvenience of time traveling centuries in the past may be the lack of proper time-telling tools. Yoongi isn’t sure exactly what time it is or how much had passed as he continues to circle the garden, holding the shears in his hand like a weapon as he searches for any flaw that could be cut down.

Sweat slides down ivory skin in rivulets, despite the cover provided underneath his bamboo satgat. His clammy hand lifts from his side to wipe away at his forehead and he winces at how damp his skin is.

“Water?” a voice says, a hand holding a wooden cup of water being thrusted into Yoongi’s line of sight.

The voice has Yoongi standing straight, the hairs on the nape of his neck shivering in slight anticipation at the deep timbre that hugs the man’s words.

No, no, no. How is he here? He can't be here.

Despite every alarm in his head ringing, pleading him to not face him, his body does so anyway and it takes everything in him to not drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness the moment he puts a face to the voice. But his body doesn’t do that.

“Taehyung?” Yoongi says instead, his voice barely a whisper. His knuckles are white from how tight he’s holding his shears.

Taehyung’s wearing a white hanbok and already Yoongi knows he’s a man with status here. The blue and silver designs on his chest are not as intricate as the ones he’s seen already but the fact that there are designs are enough to give away the fact that Taehyung should not be offering water to the help. Yoongi’s gaze lifts from Taehyung's attire to the slightly confused (and similar flash of recognition Yoongi saw earlier on Jimin's face) expression.

“No, my name is Hansung, I live here. You must have me mistaken for someone else.”

But the honeyed voice is the same, the sweet bronze skin that Yoongi used to trace for hours on end in a bed they used to share when time doesn’t exist between dusk and dawn. Still, Yoongi forces a laugh and gives a little shrug as he takes the offered water. “I must've.”

“Peculiar,” Hansung muses now, watching Yoongi take careful sips. “I… I almost mistook you for someone else as well.” Before Yoongi could press further, Taewon steps closer. “So are you the new gardener?”

“Yeah — had everyone been expecting me?” Yoongi chuckles dryly, readjusting the grip on his shears as he takes a slight step back. His self control usually disappears when it comes to Taehyung — or at least, Hansung in this era.

Hansung laughs and Yoongi’s heart gives a traitorous jump in his chest. “Well it depends, are you a talented gardener?”

“Of course, Why else would I be hired?” Yoongi brags and gives a snip towards the bush without even sparing it a glance. A familiar cocky smirk rests upon his lips only for it to falter as Hansung giggles behind his hand.

“Perhaps it’s your… odd choice of landscaping,” Hansung manages to say in between laughter. Yoongi glances over at his work to see a rose lobbed off, now rolling in between their feet, groaning as his cheeks flood with a hue of red that could rival the rose.

“I'm new,” Yoongi mutters as he shoves the rose into his pockets before Jimin could see.

“I can see that.” Hansung reaches into Yoongi’s pocket to take the rose for himself, slender fingers stroking the petals. “Can I have your name?”

Yoongi hesitates. “I’ve given you the rose, is it not enough?”

“No.” The firmness in his voice tells Yoongi there isn’t a point in arguing. “So your name?”

“Yoongi.”

Hansung tips his head to the side and Yoongi’s chest ache with a phantom pain; every little word, every movement, is so achingly Taehyung. “Very nice to meet you, Yoongi. Perhaps I'll come by to visit again.”

Both men drop their heads in a polite bow, Yoongi lower than the other, before Hansung takes his leave to join two other men that greet him casually. Yoongi turns back to his favored shrub and snips off the rest of the rose stem to match length with the rest.

About another hour passes by, judging by the sun’s position in the sky, when a sudden call has everyone standing to attention before bowing deeply at an angle of ninety degrees. Yoongi’s quick to mimic everyone else, peeking at the corner of his eye to see if the closest gardener to his right is still bowing.

A sudden marching noise comes from the left of the garden where the entrance is and Yoongi chances a look. An ornate palanquin is being carried by eight men, two for each pole. The chair itself has a tall poster frame that’s similarly designed to the black and red pagoda of the palace grounds with red sheer fabric to veil the person inside, casting only a red-tinted silhouette.

The tiny parade stops in the center of the garden and the eight men lower the palanquin carefully. Two men on the right side of the palanquin lift the veils aside before another two men help the honored guest out.

“Your majesty,” one of the men proclaims and everyone in the garden rises. “We hope the garden is to your liking.”

The king has his back facing Yoongi and the platinum blond hair is a sharp contrast against the black band wrapped around his forehead, matching his black hanbok. His topknot is secured with an opulent hair piece and a matching golden binyeo .

there is a line drawn thickly between seokjin and taehyung, no matter how little space is left between them sometimes. the physical touches never hovered past the line of platonic but they were young once, foolish and easily tempted. although they haven’t gone so far as sleep together, they’ve gotten past hurried kisses behind closed doors.

but time always brings forth changes and opportunities, paving pathways for both men to separate and live life their own way; seokjin with the company and taehyung with his multitudes of clients. they, however, did not let it drive a wall between them. they kept contact, always seeking one out without fear of rejection.

it made sense that taehyung was the first to know about seokjin’s engagement to a woman. the first to know that their first argument had been between what flowers to use for decoration for the wedding. the first to know that seokjin had been kicked out of the honeymoon suite on the second night. and the first to know of their plans of divorce two years after exchanging their vows.

knowing of their divorce came slowly. seokjin didn’t announce it bluntly, lacking preamble. no, he showed up to taehyung’s apartment without the ring on his finger.

“are you ready?” seokjin asks when he lets himself in, apartment security code already memorized even though taehyung had just moved in. the living room is empty but taehyung answers back from the bedroom down the short hallway.

“almost! just give me a few minutes!”

seokjin takes the time to take in the state of the apartment. the couches and television had been placed already but the coffee table still had its plastic packaging wrapped around it. opened boxes are discarded near the door and unopened boxes, neatly labeled in taehyung’s handwriting, are stacked by the couches. there’s a mirror leaning against the wall closest to seokjin and he takes the time to go over his appearance.

today’s hangout is a baseball game. having been a fan since he was a child, seokjin had begged and begged for taehyung to relent. the younger man only agreed since it was seokjin’s turn to choose. so seokjin had ditched the expensive suits and is sporting jeans and a raglan shirt, complete with a baseball cap to pull low over his eyes. the watch gifted from his father never leaves his wrist but the ring on his left hand isn’t present. subtle.

“ready,” taehyung announces as he enters the living room. he’s wearing black tight leggings (and upon closer inspection, seokjin realizes they’re more athleisure) and a white cropped sweater, revealing a thin strip of honeyed skin whenever he stretches. despite the casualty of his outfit, taehyung must’ve decided to compensate by wearing all the earrings and jewelry he owns to match the white eyeliner makeup look.

seokjin’s heart thrums a little faster.

“you look good,” he murmurs and the praise brings out a smile from taehyung. “now let’s go, i want to get some hot dogs before the game starts.”

/

the company seokjin inherited had been thriving immensely, bringing in profits that’s rocketed his name up to one of the most youngest and successful ceos of their age. but taehyung has been living the lavish life for years now, spoiled rotten by all of his clients. being taken to a baseball game in a mediocre seat is anything but luxurious but his heart is light and his cheeks are sore from all the smiling. perhaps he welcomes the change of scenery. or perhaps it’s just seokjin.

“i don’t even know what’s going on,” taehyung huffs as he snacks on the nachos that seokjin had paid for.

seokjin breaks his concentrated gaze from the field to turn his attention towards taehyung. “fourth inning and the team we’re going for is winning,” he answers simply. “i’ll take you out for ice cream after to make up for this,” he adds on with a little grin.

taehyung returns it with a smile of his own. “i’ll be holding you to that.” and conversation ceases there for a moment as the next player goes up to bat. hand signals are exchanged but taehyung doesn’t understand so he lets his attention wander to the man next to him. seokjin’s hands are restless, as they always are when he’s nervous, but one steals taehyung’s gaze.

he knows his staring is obvious, knowing that seokjin is looking at him, looking at his left hand. but how can taehyung not stare? seokjin isn’t wearing his wedding ring and he’s acting more relaxed than he’s ever been before. as if there's a weight that's been taken away.

however, now is not the time to interrogate seokjin about his marital status so taehyung keeps his mouth shut and turns his head back to the field. unbeknownst to him, seokjin had been watching him with bated breath, relieved that taehyung didn’t comment on it. the conversation will arise eventually but seokjin’s hoping for later than sooner.

the tension that’s been starting to build between them dissipates immediately when an upbeat musical melody plays throughout the field. the screens near the scoreboard fades away to transition to the ‘kiss cam’. the first two were a younger couple, sharing a chaste kiss with a small smile. the next were an older couple, well into retirement but very much in love when the man places a soft kiss against her wrinkled cheek.

but the next couple is seokjin, still disguised in that baseball cap and sunglasses, with taehyung sitting next to him looking absolutely perfect, even in that shitty 144p quality. the two turn to face each other, red tinting their cheeks.

“can i?” seokjin asks in a single breath, too low for anyone around to hear and too quick for the cameras to pick up. taehyung steals a final glance at seokjin’s finger, still lacking that gold band, before giving a short nod. seokjin closes the distance between them, their first kiss shared since they were kids, and taehyung finds himself melting against the older man.

he’s had kisses before, heated and hurried ones with men that have too much money to spend. he’s had soft, platonic kisses pressed against his cheeks from jimin when he’s had too much to drink.

but he hasn’t had a kiss where he’s being drowned with affection, an emotion so saturated with want and adoration that it had taehyung craving for more. when the pressure on his lips began to lighten, taehyung surges forward to capture seokjin’s lips again with a hand resting against the older man’s jaw.

claps and whistles erupt around them but taehyung could barely hear them, the crowd laughing with mirth at the happy couple. all he knows is that seokjin is kissing him like a man starved for air, almost indecent in such public settings.

“kim taehyung, what exactly are you doing with my makeup bag?”

he drops the tube of lipstick with a gasp, looking up from where he’s kneeling by tara’s little pouch. the young woman, just shy of twenty four years to taehyung’s seven years, is leaning against her bedroom door’s threshold. tension bleeds out of him when he only sees an amused smile on her lips, pretty eyes dancing with mirth.

“i got curious,” he mumbles as he gives the bag a little poke. truth is, her door had been opened — slightly ajar. curiosity had been his crime when he entered her designated bedroom (a guestroom that eventually functioned as tara the nanny’s private areas when she’s required to stay longer) and seeing the pretty cases of powders and lipsticks, taehyung couldn’t resist.

“nothing wrong with that, squirt.” she eventually walks in and takes a seat on her bed, patting the spot next to her. “bring the bag too, please.” taehyung immediately complies and scrambles onto the bed. at the age of seven, he hovers near the shorter side but tara had promised him that he’ll grow eventually. “now this —” she pulls out a weird contraption, the bottom similar to a pair of scissors but its top has a padded clamp, “— is an eyelash curler. you, my dear, has been blessed with these gorgeous lashes. i’m scared i might ruin them so maybe when you’re older, i’ll let you play with these.”

something bright burns within taehyung’s chest at the idea of a next time. he nods excitedly as he sits up onto his knees to peer into the bag. “what’s that one?” unsure if he’s allowed to touch another, he settles for pointing to a pretty, gold compact.

“blush,” she grins and opens it up to reveal a pan of a peachy shade. if the light hits it just right, taehyung notices a glimmer to it. “after putting on foundation, you lose your natural, rosy cheeks so this is what brings it back.”

and this goes on for the rest of the day. once tara had laid out the rest of her items onto the bed and her pouch is empty, she offers to do taehyung’s makeup. he readily agrees and follows her to the vanity stationed in the corner of her room. she seats him onto the chair and stands behind him.

“make me pretty, noona,” he giggles in his seat.

she chuckles and ruffles his hair. “makeup doesn’t make you pretty, taehyung. it only enhances what you have — and besides, you’re already pretty. i’m sure you’ll be one hell of a heartbreaker.”

and perhaps, she’d been right, taehyung thinks as he lets his mind wander. coming from a heartbreaker, he figures she knew what she’d been talking about.

his attention is disrupted by his phone buzzing against the marble counter of his kitchen and when he glances down, there’s two text messages on his lockscreen.

tuesday (byungwoo) house is empty tonight, come over for some wine baby

monday (hyunsik) hey darling, i’ve missed you the wife just left for barbados how about u swing by xx

he sighs heavily as he takes a long sip of his coffee, staring at both messages until the screen goes dark. there’s annoyance that pulls his brows together, lips pursed tightly as the two men that pay the most are not following his rules.

kim taehyung has built his own reputation from the ground up, advertising himself as a pretty man that knows what he wants and will do what it takes to get it. even when he’s purposely flaunting himself in front of a man with a ring on his finger, morals are tossed out the door when he’s being offered diamonds in exchange for his company. or perhaps an outlandish getaway as long as he keeps the bed warm.

whichever it is, kim taehyung is one hell of a prize to be kept as a sugar baby and whomever is worthy enough to have a second of his attention must be fucking wealthy to keep him interested.

because of the high demand that is taehyung, he allows himself a strict rotation of a handful of men whom he promises to see at least once a week on a certain day. it’s a tight schedule but this is a business — one that he runs very well unless one gets greedy and begs for more than his share.

frustrated, he reins in his emotions and forces himself to reread the texts he’s about to send.

to: tuesday (byungwoo) perhaps another time, this baby needs his beauty rest <3 <3

to: monday (hyunsik) i miss you more but i’ve got a bit errands to run :(

once both men text back a collection of sad faces (they know better than to send nudes without taehyung’s permission), taehyung puts his phone on vibrate and leaves it there in the kitchen.

/

his sugar baby business is more than enough to keep taehyung afloat without a job, to spend the days lavishly with money that does not belong to him. but he refuses to completely depend on his sugar daddies — the thought of it nearly makes him sick to his stomach — and works at a high-end boutique (alongside his best friend) with vintage designer pieces acquired from donations and auctions.

“where’d you want this, lovely?”

now taehyung usually has an aversion for pet names, only forcing down shivers when some are given to him by greasier men. but park jimin is an exception and could probably call taehyung whatever he wants without losing a limb.

taehyung glances up from his phone from where he’s leaning against the counter to see jimin enter through the backdoor with a box in his arms. “you can set it down over there,” taehyung says and points to the sofa in the breakroom. “i’ll sort through it after closing today. thank you, angel.”

jimin preens at that and drops a kiss onto taehyung’s hair, humming to himself as he continues to work alongside taehyung. customers come and go but with it being saturday, the boutique is busier than usual and both taehyung and jimin’s smiles are wearing thin.

once 12:30 rolls around, jimin walks to the door and turns the sign to ‘out for lunch’. perks of owning their own store means setting when they have their breaks. he slumps against the front of the counter and taehyung sweeps jimin’s bangs back with a tiny smile. “so, what’s for—” the dainty bell hung above the door rings and taehyung lifts his head, ready to turn away the customer only to chuckle at their newest guest.

“didn’t you read the sign?” taehyung smirks as seokjin shuts the door behind him before walking further in to reach the counter at the back, placing two take-out boxes in front of them.

“of course i did,” seokjin chuckles as he discards his suit jacket to hang onto a back of a chair, leaving him in a crisp white button up which he easily folds his sleeves up to his forearms. “why’d you think i brought you two food?”

“you’re the best,” jimin says and pinches the elder’s cheek with a toothy smile before opening the box closest to him. the smell of pasta wafts upwards and taehyung notices the name of the restaurant stamped onto the boxes; it’s his favorite italian restaurant. seokjin watches him carefully and when taehyung sends a smile his way, he earns a wink and a kiss to the forehead from seokjin.

“eat up,” seokjin says. he doesn’t wait to see taehyung’s reaction at the sudden display of affection, hoping that he hadn’t overstepped his boundaries.

instead, seokjin feels a pair of lips against his cheek. “thanks,” taehyung mumbles more to the food in front of him rather than the man who brought it. silence doesn’t come after that; jimin’s far too talkative to ever let that happen. and as taehyung gets roped into a conversation about some fashion show happening in milan, seokjin takes the time to take in taehyung.

a blue silk top (which he later learns to be a vintage top from hermes) tucked into a pleated skirt, completed with a chanel cardigan hanging loosely off his shoulders. taehyung always likes experimenting with outfits, always daring with the pieces he chose — he never lets something as silly as gender norms get in the way of a perfect #ootd pic.

“my break’s over,” seokjin sighs dramatically as he tosses his blazer over his shoulder.

taehyung snorts. “you’re the ceo, you don’t have to go back to work.”

“very true. but then my neglect will lead to the fall of my company and who’ll bring you two overpriced italian food?” seokjin doesn’t miss a beat as they fall into their easy rapport, smirking nonetheless as he steals another bite from taehyung’s container. “but i do have an early night tonight. are you free to see a movie or something?”

at the back of taehyung’s mind, he remembers his rules about his own sugar daddies regarding the allotted time they have with taehyung. but he ignores it; seokjin isn’t his sugar daddy. seokjin is one of his closest friends, had known him before the divorce. the rules don’t apply to seokjin.

“sure,” taehyung shrugs, as carefree as he can be. “as long as i’m picking.”

“of course. i’ll text you when i’m done.”

/

taehyung doesn’t like to hate things. hate takes up too much time and energy and frankly, he can’t afford to be so preoccupied with such petty emotions. however, there are two things he cannot stand:

liars

broken promises

and in his line of work, men manage to complete both standards easily. it amazes taehyung at how easy it is for them to lie, to say things they have no intending on following through. with each lie delivered to his face (whether it’s an ‘i love you’ or ‘you’re the only one’), taehyung’s hope for love diminishes — although some may argue there was never any hope in the first place.

but seokjin doesn’t like fitting into predisposed standards and makes it a habit to prove taehyung wrong, whether he knows it or not.

and when seokjin says he’ll text you — he will.

and hen he asks to hang out — he’s on time.

kim seokjin is a walking antithesis of every man that taehyung spends the night with. it’s refreshing.

jinnie <3 just got out of the office & i’m EXHAUSTED but dont worry, im on my way to pick you up you’re at home right?

taehyung’s phone buzzes against his bedside table and he glances over.

me yup, jimin & i shared a cab home drive safe!

jinnie <3 always :)

/

he presses the combination to taehyung’s apartment, the numbers engrained into his brain ever since taehyung had told him. a metaphorical key, if you will. seokjin didn’t want to let it show how touched he was but when taehyung smiled at him, he figured he knew already.

seokjin finds taehyung sitting in the middle of the living room, sitting in only an oversized t-shirt with his knee folded up to his chest. he’s painting his nails a pretty shade of pink and with how he’s sitting, seokjin follows taehyung’s long bronzed legs on display to catch a glimpse of a pair of pink boy shorts that stop right above his thigh. taehyung looks up from the movie playing on the television and with how he smiles at seokjin, he wonders how he managed to stay in taehyung’s life for this long.

“hey,” taehyung greets, his pretty eyes curling into pleasant crescents behind a pair of round glasses. he never wears his glasses around anyone except seokjin. “i chose a movie.”

seokjin chuckles as he toes off his shoes and puts on the house slippers that taehyung had set aside for him. “i can see you started it without me — it’s fine, we’ve seen this movie hundreds of times already.” the teasing lilt in seokjin’s voice is not lost on taehyung but he smiles goodnaturedly anyways, leaning against seokjin’s legs when he moves to sit on the couch behind taehyung. with taehyung occasionally dropping his attention to his toes, seokjin settles back on the couch. the movie’s barely started — it’s a romcom, one of taehyung’s favorites — but seokjin’s attention gradually shifts to the boy sitting in front of him.

his fingers itch to run through taehyung’s hair, brushing through dark locks before tucking them behind his ear. his skin is craving some kind of contact but seokjin tucks the words behind his teeth, swallowing his desperation. he’s been in love with taehyung for years now, surely by now he’s learned some type of self control. but seokjin knows taehyung better than anyone else and he knows any type of unwarranted affection is most definitely a way to find himself out on the streets within minutes. so he lets taehyung take the lead, waiting patiently for the affection to come his way.

“hold me,” taehyung says a few minutes later as he twists the bottle shut and places the nail polish aside. he takes care with his freshly painted toes — now dry — as he moves to sit beside seokjin, who has his arm resting on the back of the couch before tugging taehyung right to his side. the tiny voice in seokjin’s head quietens down somewhat once he has taehyung in his arms and seokjin feels the tension in his shoulders disappear completely.

movie nights with taehyung are common; with both their hectic lifestyles and chaotic schedules, finding an hour or two to spare is usually the best they could do. movie night eventually becomes a tradition for them, always switching up who’s hosting the sleepovers. but there’s only so many movies that they could watch and it always ends up with taehyung choosing a movie they’ve seen countless times. seokjin doesn’t mind — he never minds when it comes to taehyung. his mind always wanders, jumping listlessly from thought to thought, but it always ends in the same spot. on the boy in his arms.

but taehyung’s attention is taken completely by the film, lips parted as he mouths the lines along with the characters. seokjin’s lip tugs up into a smile, endeared by taehyung’s habits, as he lets the serene moment wash over him like a gentle wave. but the wave crashes upon him like a sudden tsunami when his ringtone pierces through the moment mercilessly. seokjin groans quietly, gives a grunt of apology as taehyung pauses the film, and takes out the phone.

both men see the caller ID and two reactions take place. taehyung’s brows furrow unpleasantly, lips pursed to swallow down the venom he wishes to spit at just the sight of seokjin’s ex-wife’s name. seokjin just glares at the name before slamming his thumb on the decline button.

“it might’ve been important,” taehyung mumbles quietly, long fingers picking at the invisible lint on seokjin’s chest. seokjin just sighs heavily as he reaches up to take taehyung’s fidgeting hand on him, filling the spaces in between his fingers with his own.

“you’re more important,” seokjin says. he gives their joined hands a little squeeze and he’s rewarded with a smaller smile from taehyung. “it’s movie night, remember? no distractions.”

the pta meetings are usually held in the elementary school’s main auditorium. the extra chairs are stacked against the walls while the right amount of chairs are arranged in a bit of an oval. right by the stage is a foldable table set up, stocked with organic snacks and bottles of water. meetings begin approximately twenty minutes after students are excused. setup doesn’t take long and parents start mingling in tiny groups as they wait for time to pass.

karen, the proclaimed winner of last month’s bake sale, continues to glance pointedly at the door. most of the pta are housewives with a handful of househusbands lounging about. but there’s one dad — their newest member on the committee — that’s yet to properly introduce himself. taehyung kim, father of taehyun kim, was just inducted last week but had to give a swift greeting before swooping his son away for a dentist appointment that day. today would be his first meeting. and karen, freshly divorced, is eager to make a proper first impression.

in the week between taehyung’s induction and to today, rumors had spilled faster than the juice during snack time. they — being the nosey housewives — had a solid foundation of truth to begin the rumors: the kims had just moved in, settled in a wonderful suburban home in the nicer part of town, and taehyung is absolutely gorgeous. now there’s no doubt that he may be married, the gold band on his finger had been enough to keep the women off for a few days. but taehyun had never mentioned a mother and karen almost dared to hope that perhaps… the new member of the pta is single. or maybe widowed but she doesn’t think on that too much.

so karen keeps glancing at the door which gains the attention of the other women in her circle. the conversation naturally shifts about taehyung again and rumors are shared amongst each other.

“i heard he’s married but the wife is always on business trips — that she’s the main breadwinner of the family,” suzy adds in. 

tanya gives a nod. “yes, but i also heard that his wife used to be a model of some sort back in south korea.” karen’s stomach gives an unpleasant whirl (she refuses to write the feeling off as envy). 

“i heard that too!” suzy’s eyes widen; if two rumors are heard twice, it’s common knowledge that it has to be true. 

before the conversation could lengthen, the door swings open and every pair of eyes is on the man entering the room. he’s dressed in what could be classified as ‘dad jeans’ but there’s something youthful in his eyes, as though he didn’t dare let adulthood take away his wonder. his smile is bright and boxy, eyes crinkling in a way that hints at his true age. a pair of round glasses sit at the edge of his nose.

“i hope i’m not late,” he chuckles and the deep timbre of his voice nearly has karen melting right then and there. he shoves his hands in his pockets and takes the only available seat which is right in her line of sight. before anyone else could answer, the president starts the meeting and everyone forcefully brings their attention back to the current speaker.

the meeting goes smoothly as usual. most didn’t expect taehyung to participate; they won’t fault him for that since it’s still his first meeting. but he hadn’t been afraid to speak up, to ask questions, or even offer a few ideas of his own. all of which were promised to be taken in consideration. once the meeting adjourns, the parents start filing out where some of their kids had stuck around to play as they wait. hoseok, the lighthearted history teacher and occasional p.e. teacher, is the one supervising today.

“taehyun!” taehyung calls out and immediately, a small boy barrels right into his father’s legs. karen swoons at the sight and her feet carry her over to the two without hesitation.

“hi there, i’m karen,” she smiles her best smile. “i’m isabelle’s mom. i just wanted to give you a proper welcome!”

taehyung bends down to pick up his son before settling him onto his shoulders. “nice to meet you,” he smiles back. “i think i remember your cookies more than you, though.”

“i’m taking that as a compliment,” karen brightens up considerably as she starts to segue the conversation about baking. taehyung seems interested enough so she powers forward with a confident expression. “maybe you and taehyun can come over sometime, we can bake cookies for the basketball team in a couple weeks.”

taehyung almost nods, a pleasant reaction to her offer, but his son’s shout to another person grabs both of their attention. “daddy!” taehyun calls out before clambering off taehyung to shoot off to another direction.

“taehyun, slow down!” taehyung scolds and gives karen an apologetic smile before jogging over to where his son had run off to. confusion paints itself onto karen’s face. daddy? isn’t taehyung…? 

the confused look on her face then drops to be replaced with utter shock.

taehyun had run towards the parking lot and a few concerned parents followed the young boy only to stop as well to see the shiny, black mercedes benz parked right by the entrance. another man — one of the most gorgeous men they have ever seen, aside from taehyung — steps out of it from the drivers’ side, dressed in business casual attire.  

“holy shit,” tanya whispers next to karen. “is that—?”

taehyun catapults himself into the stranger’s arms, giggling while kisses are pressed onto his cheeks. everyone watches when taehyung joins the two of them and karen’s jaw drops when the stranger presses a chaste kiss to taehyung’s lips.

oh.

the three start heading back to the rest of the parents and taehyun is being held, perched on the stranger’s hips with one arm despite being almost six years old. taehyung is holding the other man’s free hand with a small smile on his lips. 

“hi,” the stranger says first when they reach karen and tanya again. conversations resume around them but karen can tell that everyone is already trying to listen in. “i’m seokjin, taehyung’s husband. sorry it took so long to properly meet everyone! i’ve been out of the country for business.”

taehyun seems to sense the oncoming of a boring conversation so he wriggles out of his other father’s grasp to join the rest of his friends. seokjin sends him off with a quick ruffle of his hair. 

rumor one: true.

“are you a model?” tanya suddenly blurts out. karen shoots her a warning glare, reminding her silently that the supposed rumors of the new parents are to be kept between them only. 

but seokjin only laughs — a bright, squeaky laugh — as he gives a modest shrug. “i used to be, back in korea.” he throws an arm around taehyung’s waist and tugs him close. “it’s how i met taehyung, actually. i was modeling and he was currently shadowing my photographer, yoongi, to try and pick up some tricks. one date led to another, led to marrying in new york, and then adopted taehyun before moving here.”

rumor two: true.

“how adorable,” tanya coos with a delighted clap and karen fights the urge to roll her eyes. her friend had always been a sucker for ‘meet-cutes’. “you know, my husband and i…”

having heard the story countless times, karen stops listening for a moment. it isn’t until she’s presented an opportunity to shift the subject to something more interesting. “speaking of family, do you guys have a big one? ever since my divorce, my sister’s kind of squeezed herself into my life with isabelle.”

seokjin jumps in first. “i totally get that. i have a younger brother, just a few years younger, and taehyun absolutely idolizes him. you’ll probably get the chance to meet him since he picks up taehyun when we can’t.”

and karen won’t admit that she wonders if seokjin’s brother is just as handsome as he is but she gets her answer in just a few days later.

it’s thursday when a particular, gaudy, yellow jeep enters the school parking lot. it isn’t one karen recognizes but when the driver steps out, all legs and leather with long wavy hair, she’s ready to acquaint herself. 

“uncle jungoo!” taehyun squeals as the man drapes his leather jacket around the smaller boy’s shoulder, successfully drowning him in the fabric. karen immediately spies an intricate tattoo sleeve on the man’s right arm and she begins to step forward towards the parking lot.

she watches taehyun’s uncle drop to his knees to whisper something in the child’s ear, which taehyun quickly responds with a pointed arm towards karen and she freezes. she nearly points to herself, ready to ask if they were looking for her, before a gentle hand touches her shoulder and a man breezes by her from behind. “excuse me,” he says politely.

it’s mr. namjoon kim, isabelle’s english teacher. he’s a gentle genius, never making any parent or student feel inferior despite his intellect. karen always relaxes in his presence. namjoon is a man of simplicity, a man that treasures his students and bonsai trees equally, a man that has an affinity for oversized cardigans.

a man that —

karen’s jaw drops yet again.

a man that seems to be dating taehyun’s rugged uncle. taehyun wrinkles his nose in disgust when they kiss but the other two only gives him a playful kiss on the cheek back. and as karen watches the two hold each of taehyun’s hands as they walk back to the car, tanya sidles up next to her with a knowing smirk.

“close your mouth, honey. you’ll catch flies.”

EXTRA:  where it all began... ( how they met )

the shoot takes place in a studio apartment, rented for the day. the lights are on and a minimalistic, gray backdrop is set up in front of the exposed brick walls. there’s staff running to and fro, getting props ready for the next shot. there’s a table packed with snacks for the people working and taehyung is already itching to snag a muffin.

he only snacks when he’s nervous. and as of right now, he is very nervous.

taehyung had landed the job of his dreams, or at least — the internship of his dreams: working right underneath the youngest, world renowned photographer, min yoongi. but being born and raised in america, he had to leave his family behind to try and start a new life in south korea. he had always been an independent soul, never having any issues to adapt in any situation. but his korean is shoddy at best and being thrusted into a room full of the language (mainly in seoul dialect, thank god) would unnerve anyone.

and so he shows his pass to security before he’s being ushered to another woman who speaks in rapidfire korean. he picks up what she means and he gives a shaky ‘thank you’ as he walks over to the man with platinum blond hair holding a camera. the model still isn’t present and min yoongi himself is checking over lighting and whatnot.

“are you kim taehyung?” he asks, voice gruff and a little slurred, in english. taehyung nods but answers in korean — he needs the practice anyway. “good. feel free to slip back into english with me and the model. we’re fluent in both, should make it easier for you to adjust.”

a blush rises high on taehyung’s cheeks, shaking his head. “no, no. i need to practice my korean. it’s an honor to be working beside you, yoongi-ssi.” he bows deeply but yoongi waves a dismissive hand.

“lighten up — just call me hyung,” he says back, slipping into korean. “the first few shots are simple enough. they just want a backdrop and then after that, the rest of the crew will set up the next concept. you can just shadow me for now by monitoring the photos i take over there.”

yoongi points out the table with a bunch of equipment, including a screen that feeds all the photos that yoongi takes. 

/

kim seokjin is an enigma. a puzzle piece and taehyung is holding all the wrong pieces. 

seokjin’s absolutely gorgeous — skyrocketing past the expectations of any model — and taehyung is positive he could land a plane on those shoulders. he’s a beautiful man and has the confidence to match. it makes sense that it has taehyung retreating a bit into his shell, choosing to step behind yoongi as the man approaches. but the pretty cheeks that round out when he smiles and the plump lips pulling back to showcase a pearly set of teeth doesn’t exude intimidation or arrogance. instead of harsh, diva-like statements, he greets them with a groan-inducing pun. 

“come on,” he laughs, bright and squeaky. “that was pretty funny. i’m seokjin, by the way.”

taehyung nods a small bow and introduces himself in korean. “i’m kim taehyung. i’ll be working with yoongi.”

“they told me you were from america. do you prefer english or korean? i’m good with both, i just don’t want to make the adjustment harder.” the sentiment is sweet and taehyung finds himself choosing to speak korean; he likes the challenge and a part of him wants to impress the model. 

the rest of the shoot goes by swiftly. with seokjin as handsome as he is, there’s barely any need to retake any photos. by the time the director calls cut, everyone’s bowing and packing their stuff away. seokjin’s manager is already tugging him out the door but the model plants his feet to the floor.

“hold on — i thought i was done for schedules,” he inquires and when the manager nods his head that yes, he’s done but it’s best to get some rest for tomorrow, seokjin shakes his head. “i’m gonna grab some dinner with yoongi and taehyung, i’m starving.” fortunately, his manager lets him go and seokjin comes bouncing back towards the photographers.

“let’s get some dinner,” he grins. “i haven’t eaten out with friends in so long.”

yoongi sighs heavily (perhaps a little too dramatically) with a quick shake of his head. “can’t. i have an early shoot tomorrow and i’m leaving tonight. how about you two go on ahead?”

a delicious smile overtakes the easygoing grin that seokjin has and he’s already linking his arm through taehyung’s, tugging him through the door without another moment to spare. when taehyung isn’t looking, seokjin quickly mouths a ‘thank you’ to yoongi.

/

it doesn’t take long for taehyung to reach a level of popularity with his photos. after landing one of the most sought-after internships with min yoongi, his talent speaks for himself and no one is surprised when he’s chosen to photograph korea’s upcoming models. 

kim seokjin included.

after the first dinner, many followed right after. in between seokjin’s hectic schedules, they had managed to carve out short hours for themselves. whether it’s just a walk on the han river with a picnic supplied by the convenience or a quick lunch after a photoshoot, both men look forward to the time they can spend together. 

it’s a month after they had met did taehyung officially ask seokjin to be his boyfriend. they both announce it to the world a week later by posting one of their date night photos on seokjin’s twitter. (“i want to tell the world first before dispatch could!”)

for their first anniversary, taehyung is chosen to be seokjin’s official photographer. for whatever shoot that he has, taehyung has to be there — whether or not they choose his photos is up to the director, but his photos are chosen anyway. they always are. 

by the time their third anniversary comes around, seokjin is on one knee in paris and taehyung is in his arms, crying out a ‘yes’. they fly back to new york for a quick wedding with only their closest relatives to witness. 

and life is good for the lovely couple. from the beginning, even before dating, they knew they worked well together. there’s a partnership there that couldn’t be replaced by anything or anyone else. but as their second wedding anniversary passed by, taehyung confesses that there’s a part of him yearning for more, his arm reaching out for another.

this time, he wants to be the first to get your number amongst the rest of his opponents. aka the rest of his frat house.

hoseok lounged comfortably on the hammock that was pinned to the overhead of the porch, swaying lightly as he plugged his headphones in to listen to some music. it was a calm week for the college student; quizzes were postponed and projects were close to completion, leaving him a few hours or so to do whatever the hell he wanted to do. (or whoever he wanted to do but that's a different story.)

“really—" 

beyond his music, he heard the gruff shouts and high pitched laughter from jimin and taehyung, closely followed by jungkook with a water gun. the three newest pledges were the best choices his house ever made, hoseok thought quietly, lowering his music volume to observe them. they were three best out of the large group that had wanted to join, mainly because they were so willing to do it all.

jeon jungkook and kim taehyung streaked across campus without flinching. jimin completed 5 minutes of a keg stand with a cocky remark of asking "if this was supposed to be a challenge".

they immediately fit right in beta tau sigma.

"hey---tae! dude, watch out!" taehyung and jimin were on the floor, wrestling over the water gun only for the latter to pull the trigger... drenching a girl on the sidewalk. her hair had immediately made itself into a curtain as she bent slightly at the waist, squeezing tightly at her clothing. once a considerable amount of water no longer left her top dripping, she pushed back the tresses of her hair and immediately the three younger ones snapped to attention.

it was the new, pretty girl. although she didn't belong to a sorority, her best friend did and was dragged to every party. it left her extremely well known to beta tau sigma and with how taehyung was already popping his collar, she was the next target of a terribly delivered pick up line.

now hoseok liked to think of himself as kind, as well as a winner, so he hopped over the porch and cleared the bushes as well; he wanted to save taehyung from any embarrassment he might cause for himself. 

"sorry about that, miss...?" hoseok gave the most brightest smile he could muster, deciding to play the polite and friendly frat boy for now. he shoved the three boys behind his back as he prompted you for your name.

"y/n," you answered and turned your attention to your hair now, wringing out the strands carefully and missing out on hoseok's winning smile. which had now drooped into a slight pout when he noticed you didn't even spare him a glance. 

"pretty name."

"thanks, sunshine." you finally lifted your chin to make eye contact and while you were a little taken aback at how handsome he was, you were a popular attender of frat parties; you were used to handsome. "are the other three gonna apologize? i did like this shirt, you know."

taehyung, jimin, and jungkook knew when to back away from a girl so they blubbered out half-assed apologies before rushing back inside to spread the news as discreet as they could.

"HOSEOK'S HITTING ON THE PRETTY GIRL."

unfortunately, taehyung didn't account at how loud his voice was.

hoseok immediately cringed at the announcement, eyes dropping to the floor as he cautiously peeked up to gauge your reaction. behind your hand, you attempted to disguise the smile but the crinkles by your eyes gave it away and soon you were laughing.

"don't worry," giggles threatened to interrupt your sentences but you powered through. "you're pretty too."

and it was like magic. hoseok puffed his chest out slightly, especially since he could feel his friends's eyes on his back, peeping from the second story windows. a confident smile, one that was bordering on a smirk, settled upon his lips as he ran a hand through his hair.

"maybe we can grab coffee sometime?" he asked confidently.

"sure---"

"perfect!" 

"---i need a study buddy."

"oh... right."

-x-

it became a weekly thing. on wednesdays, hoseok would pick you up at your apartment after your noon classes and would visit the small cafe near campus. it was a pretty place, aesthetic that seemed to play well with your charm as you sat by the large window seat.   

the table would immediately be crowded by notebook paper full of highlighted notes, shuffled aside for the third refill of coffee as you pushed out the final paragraphs of your paper. hoseok wasn't a slacker and decided to take the opportunity to finish some of his own work, stealing several glances when he could.

"by the way," the silence between you two had been broken by you and he automatically dropped his head to stare at his paper with pink tinted cheeks, wondering if you caught him staring. but you didn't even glance up from your laptop, too busy adding the finishing touches. "i won't be able to make it next wednesday." 

it was an instant reaction: a pout had pulled his lips down as you lifted your head to look at him. a soft melodious laugh carried through the small cafe and his heart warmed. "relax, sunshine, don't you have parties? i'm usually there so it's not like you're not gonna see me ever again." 

he rubbed the back of his neck as he chuckled, trying to hide the slight bashfulness that crept up his ears as red. "if anything... i'm worried about you not seeing me."

the flirty tone was not lost on you and with great effort, you managed to compose your expression into a passive one. "i'm sure i'll be fine, sunshine." and with that, you turned your attention back to the laptop. lately hoseok had been more shameless. from the smiley frat boy you met on the front yard to this neverending machine of smooth pick up lines and smirks, it was getting harder and harder to brush away his attempts.

"actually maybe you can see me next week."

"really---i mean... yeah?"

you snorted, deciding to ignore the eagerness that rang from his voice. "yeah. it's a bit of a favor though."

"for you, sweetheart? anything."

-x-

"i can't believe she got you BABYSITTING."

jungkook's laugh was now at it's highest pitch, nose crinkling as he clapped his hands stupidly like a seal. taehyung was on the floor, practically laughing his ass off. the cool, composed yoongi even broke out a gummy smile at his friend's slight misfortune.

"look, i didn't know---"

"dude, i thought you just wanted her number... is she really that pretty?" seokjin rose a brow as he plopped himself on the couch.

"hell yeah she is." jimin had hopped out of the bathroom, hair dripping wet and slick against his pale cheeks as he tied a towel haphazardly around his waist. his words were garbled, a result of having his toothbrush dangling from the corner of his mouth. "she's like... uh... i don't know but she's like gorgeous. and it's like that low-key gorgeous where it doesn't even hit you until you look at her and--"

"get back in the bathroom, you're spitting toothpaste everywhere."

"right. but she's pretty... i'd babysit godzilla for her."

the large green umbrella that was currently shielding you from the merciless sun hung above you as the pair of you got comfortable on the patio of the cafe. while joohyun was inseparable from her iced americano, you decided to settle for their iced tea to gather energy for the long outing your sugar mommy had planned.

“so where are we going first?” you asked curiously, gnawing lightly at the end of your straw as you leaned onto the table to gaze adoringly at the woman. her guarded eyes softened at the sweet expression you sent her way. you were paid to behave this way, to give all your attention and love and affection in return for her money, and joohyun knew better than to let her heart flutter; she wasn’t naive. but still…

“it’s a surprise,” she answered and chose to sip at her drink to conceal the smile that nearly spread across her lips. when you pouted, she had to fight the urge to lean across the table and steal a kiss. “come on, you haven’t seen the best parts of LA yet.”

oh, right. would it be too cliche to think that you’ve forgotten nearly everything because of her? you stole a glimpse of your surroundings and you were taken aback that you actually forgot you were in LA, or more specifically, beverly hills. sooyoung had a photoshoot nearby and joohyun decided to take the weekend off to fly you out with her to see the gorgeous streets and luxurious high-end shops.

the young ceo stood from her seat and offered you her hand (which you eagerly took, lacing your fingers together), swinging them before she started the walk towards the cobblestone steps of the inclining shops. while joohyun simply stared ahead, your head was about to suffer whiplash with how quickly you were looking around, trying to take everything in. because of it, you accidentally tugged at her hand and joohyun glanced at you to see exactly what you were doing. when she noticed that you resembled a puppy, there was no stopping her of pulling you close to land a quick kiss against your temple. joohyun was then rewarded with a laugh and a shy blush.

“tell me if something catches your eye,” she murmured and you nodded, not quite able to meet her eye as you tried to smother the warmth in your cheeks. for a couple moments, nothing seemed to fit your style but when a gorgeous dress seemed to call out at you, you had to stop for a moment. joohyun noticed your apparent awestruck expression and tugged you in, much to your pleasure. you were instantly met with a soft scent and beautiful summer hues of different styles everywhere. the dress you had your eye on was put on a tiny pedestal but it still stood out amongst the rest of the clothes and while you were staring at it, joohyun had stepped aside to talk to the saleswoman nearby to get a dress for you to try on.

“come,” the ceo whispered in your ear, her slender arm sliding around your waist to tug you to the fitting room areas. in an available booth, the dress hung on the wall which you eagerly ran in to try on. it fit perfectly and as you looked upon your reflection, you heard joohyun calling for you outside. you slid the thick, velvet curtain aside and you couldn’t help but feel like a million bucks with how she gazed at you.

“we’ll take it,” she told the saleswoman, not breaking eye contact with you. when a string of incoherent ‘thank yous’ slid from your mouth, joohyun quickly shushed you with a soft kiss. “you don’t have to thank me, love.”

“a-are you sure?” you asked once you’ve caught sight of the price tag but joohyun handed her platinum card without flinching. “you know i’m fine with–”

the woman who ran the store happily obliged and guided them over. the boutique itself was small and quaint but in the back, it was spacious enough to hold a mini lounge for their higher elite customers to relax and sip champagne. for now, it’ll house sooyoung and joohyun quite nicely. 

once they brushed past the pretty beige curtains to the lounge, they were met with a plush platform partially surrounded by a tri-fold mirror in the center with the private dressing room tucked in the corner. velvet couches and chaises lined the walls on the right while the left of the platform had racks of clothing.

“may i ask the occasion? it might help me find a few choices for you two.” it was an unnecessary question, seeing how sooyoung was fully capable of choosing out items, but it was still a polite gesture and the two customers were gracious to answer.

“a gala. something a bit more formal than your usual ‘little black dress’,” sooyoung said as she lifted her gaze from the racks of dresses she was just perusing through.

joohyun placed her flute of champagne down to add her own request. “and something in purple. either a lilac shade or a deep purple would be great.” the saleswoman nodded (not at all perturbed at the preference) and returned to the front to pick something out. however, sooyoung’s meticulously threaded brow rose curiously at her older sister.

“purple? since when did you wear purple?”

the ceo chose to sip at her champagne delicately but her silence was enough of an answer to prompt a giddy laugh from the younger.

“don’t tell me you wear purple because your new sugar baby likes the color… oh my god, it’s official. you’re whipped.”

another triumphant laugh escaped sooyoung as she turned her attention back to the racks, sliding hangers to the side as she continued to browse through the selections. “speaking of your sugar baby—”

“she has a name, sooyoung.”

“—fine. speaking of y/n, when is she coming? i thought she needed a dress too.”

“yeri’s bringing her over once they’re done with classes,” she recalled as she brought out her phone to check a text from their youngest. “speak of the devil, she just replied. they’re on their way.”

joohyun stood from her seat to browse through the displayed jewelry beside the clothing, eyeing the birthstones. suddenly, another thought came to mind. “this is the first time you’re meeting her. please, play nice.”

“don’t i always?” a faux-innocent expression painted itself upon sooyoung’s visage but there was no hiding the mischievous glint. before the ceo could go off in a lengthy lecture, the curtain slid aside to reveal yeri and y/n on the other side. almost immediately, joohyun’s heart kickstarted at just the small smile sent her way from y/n.

“sorry for being late,” yeri announced before her eyes went wide at the sight of the free champagne, leaving her friend behind her to sample them. joohyun took the opportunity to greet her with a swift kiss on the cheek.

“i’m nervous,” was the first thing that slipped past your lips once the other female pulled away from the sweet greeting. out of all the five sisters, yeri was the first you were completely comfortable around with joohyun right behind her. you had briefly met seulgi during an unofficial conference between three shareholders in joohyun’s office but she was sweet enough. wendy had made brunch when you spent the night at the ceo’s lavish apartment when she accidentally barged in the morning after. other than joohyun, the three girls strayed away from the public eye and you didn’t know much about them.

but joy was someone you knew very well. she was plastered all over the most famous magazines while occupying nearly all ads that lit up the malls and shopping centers. to see her in her element, picking out clothing and discarding items that you might’ve thought were gorgeous, was definitely intimidating.

joohyun spared a swift glance over her shoulder to follow your line of sight before a light giggle was given in response to your worry. “you have nothing to be scared of. sooyoung’s sweet, she’ll be helping us choose something to wear tonight.” the ceo took your hand in hers as she led you over to one of the racks. “go ahead and choose whichever you like.”

you nodded but your hands were hesitant to even touch the fabric, let alone take them off the rack to inspect the same way sooyoung was. fortunately, you were saved by the saleswoman who entered with four dresses, all in your favorite color.

“oh, that one’s beautiful,” you blurted out. the saleswoman smiled and handed the dress over to you. it was a deep purple, cocktail dress with intricately laced fabric tracing its way up to a scalloped turtleneck and a scalloped hemline that stopped right above the knee. your arms would’ve been concealed in the same lacy fabric, giving it a conservative appearance, but once you exited the dressing room with it on, it gave a sexy allure with how it hugged and accentuated your curves.

However, one month in and the only weird thing about the entire block had to be the eerily decorated house across the street. It was the biggest one compared to the rows of the picket-fences, two tall trees bordering the left and right corner of the front yard with three sets of stairs leading up to the mahogany double doors. While the rest of the houses were painted a fresh spring color, the house across was a dark shadow amongst its sisters on the block. With only grey tiles that covered the roof, everything else was accented with darker wood and ledger stone tiles as pillars that held up the porch.

No one really spoke much about it at first. Your next door neighbors situated on the right was a sweet couple, living the longest on the block compared to the rest of the street. When you and the other three people living with you now (Chaeyoung, Taehyung, and Jimin) went to drop off french macarons (instead of the usual rice cakes) out of courtesy, mostly everyone gave silent warnings to not approach the dark house. It wasn’t until Taehyung’s curiosity got the best of him and finally asked the other college students that inhabited the apartment complex a couple houses down yours.

“Is it like a ‘Boo Radley’ situation?” Jimin asked as he handed the delicately wrapped boxes over to the guy named Hoseok.

Namjoon, the taller one, shook his head as Hoseok retreated in their home to set the gift aside. “No, not necessarily. At least, the rumors haven’t reached to murder yet.” At the sight of yours and Chaeyoung’s expression, the boy quickly hurried on to explain. “The most popular one is that anyone that enters that house never comes out.”

Taehyung’s laugh bellowed, carefree as he flicked a few loose strands of his bangs aside. “I call bullshit. This is LA, dude, not some shitty town in the middle of nowhere.”

“It’s your choice to believe it or not,” Hoseok shrugged. “But there’s one piece of evidence that can actually support that rumor.”

“What is it?” You found yourself asking.

“Any pizza boy that comes by that house goes missing.”

“So there’s five of them?”

You didn’t bother rolling your eyes - the world seemed to spin with how often you’ve done it in the past ten minutes - and kept your attention on your notes. With your frame curled up on the left side of the couch and Chaeyoung’s slender legs stretched out on the rest of the piece of furniture, Taehyung occupied the armchair closest to you with his gangly stature sprawled all over it. His head dangled off the edge of the armrest, his hair comically standing on end as though he was electrocuted, as he tossed a baseball only to catch with precision a few seconds later.

“Yes. There’s five,” Chaeyoung answered kindly, her voice never betraying the hidden frustration that was growing beneath her expression. That had to be the tenth time Taehyung had asked to reiterate what Namjoon told them only moments prior. “And before you ask, we don’t know their names. All we know is that they attend our university, appears to be filthy rich, and likes to order pizza.”

“Which is how they lure in their prey,” Jimin cut in as he padded from the bathroom with only a loose towel tied haphazardly around his lean waist. The sight of the shirtless male would’ve made you blush but you’ve lived with him (as well as the other two) too long to feel any surprise at any state of his undress. “They’re like black widows, hot and dangerous.”

You couldn’t bite back the snort that escaped you. “How do you know they’re hot?”

“I just do. It’s a vibe thing.”

At this point, you were sure that your eyes would’ve fallen out with how much you’ve rolled them.

Two months in and still no sign of the mysterious five that lived in the house across the street. Every morning, you stuck to a serious and sharp routine that you followed religiously. Wake up at 6:30 AM, jog a couple laps around the street, return back by 7:00 AM to start on breakfast with Jimin and be ready by your first class (regardless if it was a nine am class or a two pm class). With how often you’re actually out and about, you were positive that you’d have at least bumped into them once.

But you were just as unsuccessful (you were ashamed to admit that you even took an extra lap one morning in hopes of catching a glimpse of any one of them) as the rest of your housemates, despite being placated that you weren’t the only one obsessed with finding more about your secretive neighbors.

“Y/N?” Chaeyoung came bounding into your shared room, her orange hair askew beneath a large tacky trucker’s cap that advertised ‘Pizza Palace’ in a fading red font across the yellowing white fabric. You tore your attention away from the bright screen of your laptop, a little disoriented from writing an essay, and took in your roommate’s appearance in completely. With her cheeks flushed and her chest rising and dropping in unsteady intervals, you immediately jumped off the bed and led her to her own.

“Hey, you alright? What happened?” Your mind instantly jumped to the worst-case scenarios, kickstarting your anxious heart as you waited for Chaeyoung to fill you in.

“I’m fine,” she wheezed, trying her best to catch her breathe as she removed her cap to place on your head. “I need you to do me a favor. Can you fill in the rest of my hours for tonight at the pizza place a few streets away? I got an email from my TA reminding me of my paper that’s due tonight, which I completely forgot about so I-”

“Hold on, slow down, Chae… slow down. Don’t tell me you just ditched your shift! Did you tell your boss at least?”

“I did, but I need you to cover for me.”

You scooted backwards to shoot her the most incredulous look. “Chae, I don’t even work there! How am I supposed to cover your shift?”

“You’re not making any pizza,” she hurriedly answered. “Just deliveries! Please, please, please!”

No matter how long you’ve lived with Chaeyoung, you just didn’t seem to have the kind of immunity against her pitiful expressions you thought you might’ve acquired by now. “Oh, fine. Give me the stupid hat.”

It must’ve been a regular occurrence for random strangers in employee gear to show up at the pizza parlor because Chaeyoung’s supervisor didn’t bat an eye when you arrived behind the counter in her uniform. Your own hair was pulled into a messy knot at the nape of your neck, loose strands of hair framing your face as you pushed up the large cap up to properly keep eye contact.

“Here are the orders, here are the addresses, and here’s the keys to the pizza car. Not a scratch,” she ordered firmly before sending you on your way. Once you found the designated vehicle, you scoffed as you remembered her last piece of instruction.

A scratch would’ve actually been an improvement with how shitty the car’s state was.

The first few addresses were simple enough; the entire area was mostly separate houses rather than confusing apartment complexes, making your temporary job much more easier. The list of orders began to decrease and the monstrous amount of boxes in the backseat disappeared one by one with each stop. Reaching the end of the list, your heart nearly dropped to your chest once you recognized the address.

It was the house across the street.

“When’s the pizza coming?” Yeri’s whining echoed throughout the spacious house as she lounged on one of the chaises in the sitting room, a picture of relaxation as she fiddled with a pistol crossbow. Irene wrinkled her nose at the mess she caused when she passed by. Stray arrows scattered the area around the youngest as grease-stained rags laid upon her mahogany tables where the tools were placed on.

“Soon.” It was Wendy who answered from her position by the window seat at the east side of the house once she noticed the displeased look on the eldest’s features. It’s been a couple months since their last ‘order’ and whenever Irene hasn’t had her appetite filled, she became cranky enough that Seulgi and Joy would retreat to their room until her ‘hangry’ phase subsides. “Be patient. It should be here any moment.”

Although they barely entertained any guests, the five women were dressed in their finest. It was a bland Thursday evening but with the high-end cocktail dresses that adorned their ideal figures, you’d think they’d be off to attend some VVIP, private gala in the city. Irene was dressed in a sequined long sleeve dress with bloody red heels. Yeri kept things simple with a crochet dress and flats while Seulgi chose a lace blouse and leather pants. Joy loved her little black dresses that accentuated her curves. Wendy opted for a vintage velvet blouse and leather skirt.

Despite their oddly fancy attire, it blended well with the artistic pieces carefully placed around their home. Irene had picked up art curating as a new hobby, a way to pass the time as they juggled their unorthodox lives.

Right when Seulgi finally slid down the tall flight of stairs by the banister, the doorbell chimed around their house. “Dinner time,” she hummed as a devilish grin crossed her scarlet lips. She stepped aside and retreated to the living room with Joy at her tail when Yeri bounded up to open the door with a grotesque teddy bear tucked in the crook of her arm. As her hand reached for the doorknob, an adorable expression settled upon her visage as she prepared herself to come face to face with another pizza boy.

The door swung open and her practiced smile was what greeted you… only for it to fall in surprise only seconds later when Yeri realized you weren’t a pizza boy.

“For… Yeri?” You read the post-it note on the top of the box as you stretched your arms out to hand the pizza over. “That’ll be fifteen-”

“Excuse me,” the pretty girl cut you off before she slammed the door in your face.

“Wait… repeat that again. They just took the pizza and paid you…?”

Your swung your legs as you sat on the counter, munching on a leftover pizza as you nodded. The closing crew had asked you to retell the story for the tenth time now but you didn’t really mind repeating it, not when you had a slice of pizza in your hand. Although it was a good half hour since you’ve finished the rest of Chae’s shift, you’ve befriended her coworkers when they realized you made a stop at Hell House (a funny little nickname they dubbed the creepy place). While you sat on the counter, the four others had grabbed chairs to circle around you with their own late dinners in hand.

“Yeah, they seemed a little confused but that’s it,” you answered patiently, nibbling at the crust as the youngest coworker tentatively raised his hand.

“Really?” Mark asked, dropping his hand with a little bashful chuckle. “That’s it?”

You nodded and they all finally dispersed, somewhat content with the first witness story of the odd happenings in hell house. “Really. That’s it.