Chapter Text
Jiseok works at the fish market.
It's not a glamorous job by any means, and his hands have taken the brunt of it, callused and water-wrinkled where the fingers meet the palm. He can't really afford a skincare routine, not when all his work comes undone with every bucket of periwinkles he pulls up, saltwater permanently crusted under his blunt fingernails no matter how hard he scrubs in the shower. He used to wear his fishmonger smock and mud-stained boots everywhere he went, until the bar owner shouted at him to stop ruining her floors and he'd been forced to change into something decent.
Regardless of what he may look like, this job is all he's ever known, ever since he was a little boy: the thrill of ocean spray in his face as the sails turned west, a full net of silver anchovies clattering against the deck. He'd be hard pressed to pick a more "presentable" job, no matter what the townspeople think of him.
Besides, his forcibly clipped nails are perfect for his side hustle: guitar. His weekend gigs at the local tavern make him just enough to buy produce at the market.
In fact, he's there now, rummaging through a display of tomatoes, whistling contentedly to himself as he thinks about the fish stew he'll have tonight. He picks out a fat, reddish-purple tomato, inspecting it for bug bites or brown spots.
Placing the tomato in his linen bag, he turns toward the herb stand, following his nose to find the last key ingredient. Just in time, he thinks, noticing the last clump of basil sitting forlornly on the wooden cart. He reaches for it, about to snatch his prize when he feels cool fingers brush against his instead.
He tries not to yelp, snatching his hand back. The basil tumbles back into the cart, falling from his grasp.
"Hey, watch it-" he exclaims, then abruptly cuts himself off.
Looking up, Jiseok comes face-to-face with a pair of inquisitive eyes. The owner blinks, long eyelashes fluttering.
"Sorry about that," the man says, eyes wide as he looks down at him. "I didn't see you there."
How?! Jiseok thinks, confused and half-irritated by his state of hunger. He clears his throat roughly, looking away.
"You can have it." he mumbles, "Don't need it that bad."
He'd realized belatedly that his opponent was a formidable foe, and he stood little to no chance of winning against him. It didn't matter that he had gotten there first—no, not against the most wanted man in town.
Oh Seungmin could just bat his pretty eyelashes at the seller and he was sure to get his way. Jiseok peeks over at the shop owner, and sure enough, he's staring at Seungmin's broad back, transfixed.
Rumors had spread among the village that Seungmin was unanimously agreed to be the loveliest in town—not that Jiseok had time to listen to that drivel. He'd simply overheard it at the bar one night, a pair of drunkards sloshing wheat beer over the counter as they giggled tipsily about who they found the most attractive.
What he'd heard that night had left Jiseok disgusted, and he'd stood up in a rush, stool falling to the floor in a clatter as he exited. He'd already paid his tab anyway, and the women had been saying some truly obscene things about Seungmin.
"Are you sure?" the man in question says, looking torn as his gaze flits from the basil back at Jiseok.
Jiseok waves his hand dismissively. "It's fine. It's not that deep."
He refuses to let his good mood be spoiled by something as simple as a contest over a wilted bunch of herbs. The sour acidity of the tomatoes will cut through the fish regardless.
"Something on my face?" he mutters, narrowing his eyes when he realizes Seungmin is still staring at him intently.
"No, no!" he waves his hands, flustered. "Not at all. I was just zoning out."
Jiseok shrugs one shoulder, feeling awkward. He's far too used to people whispering behind cupped hands wherever he goes, giggling about his worn clothes and salt-stained boots as he makes his way around town. It's easy to forget that not everyone is like that.
Seungmin seems relieved after clearing up the misunderstanding, and he nods and picks up the basil, thanking him and trotting off to make his purchase. Jiseok watches him go, scoffing when the seller perks up as he approaches.
He doesn't really get what everyone sees in him. Sure, he admits—he's handsome, but you'd think they were bowing down to a Greek god with the way they simper behind his back. Honestly, Jiseok can't even be envious of him; it must be exhausting.
Wrinkling his nose in mild distaste, Jiseok leaves the market with his bag of produce, hungry and yawning widely as he shuffles his aching feet along the cobblestones.
Along the way, he encounters a congregation of village cats. They sidle up to him, meowing loudly at his feet and begging for scraps.
"Not today, sorry," he says, feeling sad as they nuzzle their furry heads against his legs. They gaze up at him, round eyes wide with a lust for fish.
The cats had quickly discovered that being near Jiseok meant getting to nibble on delicious fish scraps while he worked. Sometimes he even had trace remains on his boots, or bits and bobs stashed in his bag that he'd saved for them. The cats would run up to him whenever they spotted him (or smelled him, maybe) and beg for food, pawing at his boots and rubbing their faces on him. Most of the other fishmongers got annoyed at their persistent meowing, opting to shoo them away—but Jiseok's always had a soft spot for his feline friends.
They sit there swishing their tails, still meowing insistently at him. Sometimes, he wishes he could speak cat; it's heartbreaking seeing their little faces staring so hopefully at him and having to walk away, leaving them empty-pawed.
After about a year of them following him around like the Pied Piper's rats, Jiseok knows each cat and all of their quirks. The way they chirp at him when they're excited, and where each one likes to be petted.
So it's a surprise when he notices a new cat hanging around the back, licking its paws and eyeing him warily. Like many of the others, it has a collar around its neck. Looking closer, Jiseok realized something's different: there's a little metal object dangling from it, hidden partially in its fluffy gray fur. It glints in the sun, and he leans in to take a closer look.
Startled by his movements, the cat darts away with a surprising quickness, lifting its paws high as it leaps away. Of all the other cats, its fur is definitely the shiniest, gleaming almost like silver as it disappears from sight behind a wall. The glossy sheen of its coat and expensive-looking collar makes Jiseok think it must certainly belong to an attentive, caring owner.
Behind him, the cobblestones shake with the force of pounding feet, and Jiseok whirls around at the shout. "Get that cat! Don't let it get away!"
Dust kicks up in the air as a crowd of people pour into the street behind him. The clamor frightens all the cats away, and they scatter like buckshot in various directions, yowling discontentedly. Jiseok frowns, moving hurriedly out of the way. What the devil has gotten into them?
Luckily he'd kept a tight grip on his bag, and none of the produce had fallen from getting jostled. He wrests the key to Hyeongjun's house out of his pocket, fingers stiff and numb from the cold as he noisily opens the door.
"Shoes off," Hyeongjun calls, and Jiseok rushes to kick off his muddy boots at the doormat. He heads into the kitchen, excited to show him what he's brought this time. Presenting the bag with a loud thump, he starts pulling out various offerings one after another. Hyeongjun nods in approval.
Jiseok and Hyeongjun have a... mutually beneficial agreement.
No, nothing of that nature.
In exchange for being Hyeongjun's errand boy and a couple fish, Jiseok gets the comfort of a home-cooked meal, and (though he's embarrassed to admit it) some company to stave off the loneliness of dinners alone. He's even been learning the basics from him, and can proudly say that he can cook a simple stew now.
"Ah, no basil today?" Hyeongjun remarks, disappointed. The herb had been a top three ingredient in the priority list, and he'll have to make some substitutions to the dish.
"Yeah. Some guy, Oh Seungmin- he got it." Jiseok says. Sure, he'd practically given it up to him, not wanting a fight, but Hyeongjun doesn't need to know that.
"What, the Seungmin?"
"Uh, yeah?" Jiseok's confused.
"Ugh. People gossip a lot in the kitchen, and I can't count the number of times they've mentioned him. Honestly, I'd be annoyed if I were him."
A brief lull in conversation follows, and Jiseok is so very tired. The radiant warmth from Hyeongjun's fireplace feels so good on his numb extremities, and he slowly tempers to an acceptable temperature. He could absolutely fall asleep like this.
"Ah!" Hyeongjun muses, tapping his finger against his chin. "I just remembered something."
"What?" Jiseok says, cracking his eyes open just a smidge, half-irritated from being abruptly awoken.
"You pass by the bulletin board lately?"
"No, why?"
"Seungmin put up a notice the other day, it's got half the town in an uproar. Says he'll only marry the one who manages to get the key from around his cat's neck." Hyeongjun lifts a spoon to his lips, tasting the broth and frowning.
"Damn, what?" Jiseok can't help but laugh at the absurdity of that. "Who does he think he is?"
Hyeongjun shrugs, preoccupied by stirring. "I mean, he is the most eligible bachelor here. It's not like everyone has all that many options, what with how small this place is." He sprinkles a pinch of some unidentifiable spice in, humming.
"And plus, he's pretty attractive." he tacks on, almost an afterthought.
Jiseok has to do a double take. Hyeongjun, normally so steadfast and down-to-earth, admitting that he finds someone attractive? He feels like he's been transported to some alternate reality.
"Seriously, you think he's good looking?" he asks, doubt permeating his voice.
"I have eyes, Jiseok." Hyeongjun deadpans. He begins ladling the soup into two bowls, slipping on mitts as he carries them over to the table.
The next few minutes are silent, save for the sound of slurping as they sip at the stew. Jiseok tries to slow down, remembering the last time he'd burned his tongue eating Hyeongjun's cooking. It was just too delicious, even without all of the ingredients he'd planned to use.
After he finishes his bowl, he carries it over to the sink to wash up. Scrubbing away at the dishes, he thinks back to that cat he'd seen earlier. All silver grey and elegant, so unlike Jiseok's rough demeanor. He'd be almost scared to pet it, even if it ever let him—wouldn't want to ruin its beautiful coat with the touch of his often grime-caked hands.
If that cat was really Oh Seungmin's, he thinks, then perhaps he might be able to lure it with a fish and extract the key from its collar. It would surely go for a hefty price, and he could certainly use the money-
No. He shakes his head firmly to clear his thoughts, batting away the devil that's kicking its little legs against his shoulder. The thought of holding a yowling, hissing cat down while trying to extract a small object from the midst of long, fluffy fur sounds like a nightmare.
Besides, something within him feels guilty about it. He scowls at Oh Seungmin mentally. What an asshole move it is, to have your cat bear the brunt of constant chasing and undue harassment from townspeople. And all that just to marry himself off like the princess of some failing kingdom, arranged to the highest bidder.
Maybe he's biased. He has to admit that he's never really liked Oh Seungmin all that much, particularly because he's often caught him staring oddly at him whenever they cross paths. Worse still, he swears he'd heard him sniffing at him once when he'd come back from a grueling shift at the fish market, but he'd run home to take a bath before he could confirm.
"We can't all smell like flowers and expensive cologne," Jiseok mutters under his breath. Hyeongjun, thankfully, has gone off to take a shower, and isn't there to hear his disparaging monologue.
What an arrogant guy.