Archive of Our Own

“… and they had the fucking gall to put their store in plain view of the Hot Topic,” Dongmin complains openly. He and Woonhak are sitting in the food court on their respective breaks, Woonhak devouring a burger while Dongmin periodically steals his fries. “It’s like they have no respect for our history. It’s an affront to emos everywhere.”

Woonhak is only half-listening, he knows, so it’s honestly a surprise when he says reasonably, “At least the Spencer’s is on the ground floor. That way you can always look down on them.”

“That’s not the point,” Dongmin argues anyway. “It’s that they have the nerve to exist at all. Who the fuck shops at Spencer’s? Who the fuck would when there’s a perfectly good Hot Topic an escalator away—”

“Keep your voice down,” Woonhak hisses suddenly, urgently. He’s looking somewhere past Dongmin’s shoulder. Dongmin twists in his seat to see what’s gotten him worked up all of a sudden. “That guy works at the Spencer’s,” he explains in a whisper just as Dongmin’s eyes find him. 

There are two guys walking away from the Auntie Anne’s, and consequently toward their table. One of them is in the telltale referee shirt that means he works at the Foot Locker. His hair is dark and a little messy, and his resting expression is this soft smile. He seems familiar for some reason. The other guy is dressed in baggy jeans and a red-brown flannel over a tank top, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His forearms are toned. He’s wearing a set of beaded bracelets, and attached to one of his belt loops are a few keychains—one of those tacky green aliens, a lip balm, an obvious knockoff of the Vivienne Westwood lighter. And sure enough, around his neck is the lanyard all the Spencer’s employees wear, advertising his name as Donghyun. 

Dongmin looks him up and down a little longer until he’s in earshot, then rolls his eyes and says loudly, “Of fucking course he works at Spencer’s. Look at him.” Why should he be ashamed about his distaste when he’s perfectly justified?

The Spencer’s employee, Donghyun, pauses right next to Dongmin’s chair, looking him up and down in much the same way Dongmin did to him. Dongmin stares up at him defiantly. Except Donghyun’s gaze is sharp, roving over Dongmin’s ripped black jeans, his leather wrist cuffs, his MCR t-shirt like he’s undressing him with his eyes. His gaze lingers on Dongmin’s face for a few seconds longer, on the day-old black eyeliner and the fresh scar from the eyebrow piercing he finally had to take out last month when it refused to heal. Dongmin has to fight not to shrink under the attention. He stands up instead, just to feel like they’re on equal footing, and he’s pleased to find that he’s a little taller than Donghyun. 

“Please don’t fight him,” Woonhak suddenly pleads in a stage whisper, leaning over the table to grab at Dongmin’s arm. “My manager is right there; you’re gonna make me look like an accomplice.” Dongmin shakes him off and Woonhak adds more fearfully, peering up at Donghyun from under his royal blue Auntie Anne’s visor, “He’s totally gonna rock your shit, dude.”

“I’m not gonna fight him,” Dongmin says without taking his eyes off of Donghyun. “I’m more civil than that.”

Donghyun smirks, pointedly sizing Dongmin up once more. “Hot Topic?” he says, like he already knows he’s right. 

Dongmin tilts his chin up, defiant. “Better than the horny Zumiez.”

For the first time since they approached, the Foot Locker guy pipes up. “Horny Zumiez?” he echoes, confused, or maybe incredulous. 

“Don’t get him started,” Woonhak advises, still stage whispering, but it’s too late. 

“What else does the Spencer’s have going for it?” Dongmin says it like it’s a challenge, one meant specifically for Donghyun. “All you have are corny t-shirts with corny slogans, and overpriced wannabe-goth jewelry. It’s like if being a poser emo mall goth was a whole-ass franchise. It’s like—like if the shitty ex-boyfriends of every Hot Topic patron had a store made just for them. You’re literally just there to take up space and scare suburban moms.”

Donghyun is silent for the entirety of his tirade, just watching Dongmin rant with this neutral, impassive look, one hand in his pocket and the other loosely holding a cup of pretzel bites. He’d think Donghyun tuned him out if not for the way he holds eye contact—he barely even blinks. For some reason, his unflappable air pisses Dongmin off even more. He doesn’t even know this guy, but he wants Donghyun to react. To frown, to glare, something.

He finally does react when Dongmin finishes, but all he does is nod a little. “I think you’re making some good points there,” Donghyun says, his tone thoughtful, like he’s actually taking Dongmin completely seriously. 

“Really?” Dongmin blurts out, baffled, then remembers he’s supposed to be asserting his store’s superiority. “You think?” he adds, more aggressively this time. 

“Sure,” Donghyun says, and then the smirk is back, and Dongmin realizes he’s being mocked. “Or, you would be, except the last time I walked past the Hot Topic, you were peddling Sanrio headbands and Funko Pops. Seems kind of hypocritical.” As he’s talking, Dongmin swears he sees the flash of a tongue piercing. Then Donghyun leans in a little closer and Dongmin sees the freckles on his neck, the sheen of a balm on his lips, the long sweep of his eyelashes… He almost jumps out of his skin when Donghyun murmurs, “At least we have sex toys.”

Dongmin stares at him for a long few seconds. Fuck, why is he gorgeous? Fuck, why can’t Dongmin think? How is he supposed to defend Hot Topic’s integrity like this? 

When all his counterarguments fail him, Dongmin admits defeat in the form of slumping back down into his chair. It at least gets him away from Donghyun’s piercing gaze. “Whatever, man, fuck you,” he sighs, reaching over to steal another fry from Woonhak. 

Donghyun simpers. “Sorry. My break is almost over, but maybe later, okay?” He wiggles his fingers in a flirtatious little wave, then drifts away towards the escalators with his cinnamon sugar pretzel bites, Foot Locker guy in tow. 

Dongmin flips off his retreating form, while Woonhak seems to deflate—whether or not it’s from relief, Dongmin can’t tell. 

“Do you know him?” Woonhak asks after a minute. 

“No? I’ve never seen him before.” He’d remember if he had. “Why?”

Woonhak shrugs. He stuffs the last of his burger in his mouth even as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “I heard everybody on the ground floor is in love with him. And half of the second floor.” He pauses, like he’s choosing his words carefully. “… You guys have weird sexual tension.”

“We do not,” Dongmin snaps. (Do they? Was that what that was?)

(… Did Donghyun feel it too?)

Woonhak shrugs again, still visibly uncomfortable, and so Dongmin takes a deep breath and chooses to let it go. (It’s hard not to let Woonhak slide for most things, especially when he looks so charming in his silly work polo.) He tries to let that whole interaction go, in fact. Because, first of all, what the fuck was that? And second of all, Dongmin knows he’s right. He’s not going to let some random, gorgeous Spencer’s employee sway his deep-rooted conviction of Hot Topic’s inherent superiority. 

“I’m going back to work,” Dongmin sighs, swiping a few more fries as he stands back up. “Text me if you need a ride home.”

Woonhak shakes his head. “I should be good. Sanghyuk is dropping by later; he said he’ll drive me back. Thanks, though.”

“Tell him I said hi,” Dongmin replies simply, waves, then turns to walk back to the Hot Topic. 

There. He’s already over it. That brief, weirdly charged interaction with Donghyun may as well have not happened with how little he cares. Why should he when he’ll never even have a reason to think about Donghyun again?

*

The universe is fucking testing him. 

Before Monday, Dongmin had never caught so much as a glimpse of Donghyun. Now he’s suddenly everywhere. 

He’s at the food court when Dongmin takes his breaks. He’s at the Foot Locker across from the H&M when Dongmin goes to bother Sungho at work. He’s sitting by the fountain in the middle of the mall when Dongmin walks past to drop off mail. 

And now he’s in the parking lot as Dongmin is leaving work for the day, leaning against the passenger door of a car that looks like it’s being held together by duct tape and positive vibes. His curly brown-blonde hair is pulled up into his usual stupid (and stupidly perfect) man bun, a few loose strands elegantly framing his face. Between his lips is a cigarette, and he cups one hand around the end as he flicks his knockoff heart lighter. 

Dongmin catches himself staring at Donghyun’s fingers, his mouth, and he has to physically shake himself to force himself back to his senses. He must look like an idiot, standing in the middle of the road and gaping at this stereotype of a trashy grunge boyfriend. He huffs aloud, fishes his keys out of his bag, and marches himself straight to his car—only to realize that apparently he’d parked right beside Donghyun this morning. 

“Oh. Hot Topic,” Donghyun says, like it’s a greeting, as Dongmin is trying to shuffle past him without making any kind of physical contact. 

“It’s Dongmin, actually,” he corrects flatly. He pointedly turns his back to Donghyun in favor of pulling open the driver’s side door and tossing his bag over to the passenger seat. 

“Dongmin,” he echoes. Dongmin can’t suppress a shiver when the murmur of his name comes with a rush of warm air against his nape, the scent of smoke following swiftly after. “You drive a Honda Civic?”

Dongmin whips back around—he always seems to feel an inexplicable tenseness whenever he sees Donghyun, but now his hackles are properly raised. Especially when he realizes just how close they’re standing; they’re practically in each other’s faces like this, crammed between their two parked cars. 

“What about my Honda Civic?” he challenges.

Donghyun takes his sweet time responding. His dark gaze drifts over the generic white enamel of Dongmin’s painfully generic car, then returns to Dongmin himself, looking him up and down again. He takes a slow drag from his cigarette, turns his head to exhale so the smoke doesn’t get in Dongmin’s face, and says, “Nothing. I just don’t think you really have room to call anyone a poser when you drive the white bread of cars.”

Dongmin folds his arms tight across his chest. “You don’t know shit,” he says. “In a world of rampant overconsumption, the punkest thing to do is to invest in things that will last—unlike your death trap on wheels over there,” he adds, jerking his chin toward Donghyun’s rusty, dinged-up Toyota. If he’s honest with himself, there’s really no need to get defensive over something so unimportant, but he just can’t stand the idea of Donghyun thinking he’s won against him. Again. 

But Donghyun bites his lip like he’s trying to hold back a laugh. It does nothing to hide his smile. “You literally work at the mall,” Donghyun reminds him. As if Dongmin doesn’t know, as if they’re not standing in the mall parking lot this very second. “You know, the overconsumption factory?”

Dongmin stares at him for a long few seconds with a distinct sense of déjà vu from their first hostile encounter on Monday. Fuck, but Donghyun is right. It’s kind of beside the point, but Dongmin’s job does undeniably perpetuate consumerism. He’s a servant of the very thing he hates. 

“We’re all just cogs in the capitalist machine,” Donghyun says sagely when Dongmin still can’t think of a rebuttal, almost like he’s trying to console him. 

For a brief moment, Dongmin is grateful for the solidarity. Then he remembers that this is Donghyun, proud Spencer’s employee and Dongmin’s new nemesis or something, as far as either of them is concerned. “I’m going home,” Dongmin grumbles, yanking the door back open and getting into the car. “Fuck you and all that. Bye.”

Donghyun looks startled for a second by his abrupt exit from the conversation, but he recovers quickly with a sweet smile. “Bye,” he echoes, singsonged like he’s trying to be cute. 

Dongmin ignores him and ignores the fluttering in his stomach, shutting his door with a harsh slam. But through the window, he can see Donghyun leaning forward to blow him a kiss, before he settles back against his janky, sexy beater car. 

Dongmin spares one hand to flip him off as he drives away. In the rearview mirror, he sees Donghyun’s smile widen. 

*

“I can’t get rid of him. He’s like a parasite. Or a stalker,” Dongmin laments on his break the next day. He’s with Sungho this time, standing in line at the Jamba Juice. Sanghyuk is with them too, because he had nothing better to do today, but he’s been eyefucking the guy behind the counter for the entirety of Dongmin’s rant. 

Whatever Sungho was going to say in response, he puts on hold as they reach the counter and place their orders. Dongmin does a double-take when he gets a proper look at the guy Sanghyuk has been staring at. 

“Haven’t I seen you at the Foot Locker?” he asks loudly enough to be heard over the blenders. 

Donghyun’s Foot Locker guy, who is currently wearing the Jamba Juice apron and visor, blinks at him. (His nametag reads Jaehyun.) “Yeah.”

“So… you work there and here?”

Jaehyun’s expression turns wary. “What are you, the IRS?” There’s a hint of genuine fear in his voice, but he doesn’t give Dongmin time to do more than frown before he turns away to prepare their drinks. What a strange guy. 

“Anyway, Donghyun. He’s totally following me,” Dongmin reiterates once he, Sanghyuk and Sungho are sitting at one of the food court tables. 

“I thought you had beef with the Spencer’s. Like, the store. Conceptually,” Sungho says. 

“I do, but now there’s this guy,” he complains. He has to consciously loosen his grip on his cup so he doesn’t crush it. “He’s fucking everywhere, and he tries to poke holes in my logic, and he has a tongue piercing—”

“Why is that relevant?” Sanghyuk asks, finally paying attention now that Jaehyun seems to have disappeared into the back. 

Dongmin frowns. “Because he’s a fake-ass poser Nirvana groupie wannabe.” Internally, he’s well aware that he’s just saying words now—he doesn’t want to admit that Donghyun keeps making good points, and that his tongue piercing is cool, and that Dongmin is grasping at straws for reasons to hate him. 

“I think you’re taking this too seriously,” Sungho advises, though he’s making a weird face, like he’s struggling not to laugh. Dongmin can’t even blame him. “I’m sure you guys just happen to have similar schedules. And he seems like a nice guy; the other manager at the H&M talks about him sometimes. She said he’s sweet.” 

“Well, I don’t think he’s sweet,” Dongmin argues, derisive. 

“Are you sure you’re not just projecting your hatred of his store onto him?”

“You weren’t there,” Dongmin huffs. “He’s smug as hell. He knows he gets under my skin and he likes it. Fuck him, seriously.”

“Maybe you should,” Sanghyuk says. 

Dongmin’s head snaps toward him, shocked. Sanghyuk looks completely serious, which is even more terrifying. “Sorry?” Dongmin says in the vain hope that maybe he misheard him. 

He did not. “Maybe you should fuck him,” Sanghyuk repeats, slower this time, without breaking eye contact. Sungho finally barks out a laugh, which devolves into continued giggles muffled behind his hand. 

“Why—What—Why the hell would I do that?” Dongmin manages to sputter out, unconsciously fanning at his face when he suddenly feels much too warm. 

Sanghyuk sips his smoothie, painfully nonchalant. “I think it would do you some good. You’re working yourself up over nothing, and you clearly need to get this guy out of your system. Maybe getting laid will help you relax.”

Dongmin lets out his own incredulous laugh. It’s an absurd idea—sleeping with Donghyun, the guy who makes his fight or flight instinct kick in every time they make eye contact (with a heavy emphasis towards fight), to help him relax?

“You’re insane, dude,” Dongmin says. 

Sanghyuk shrugs. “Or maybe I’m right.”

Dongmin shakes his head in disbelief and stands from the table. “Not gonna happen. See you guys later,” he adds, before he begins his retreat back to work. He can still hear Sungho’s muffled giggles behind him, and Sanghyuk’s knowing look is burned into the backs of his eyelids. 

There are still a few minutes left of his break—and he doesn’t want to look like he’s running away—so he takes his time walking. There’s an open area on the second floor that overlooks the fountain on the ground floor below. Dongmin leans against the railing to finish his smoothie, idly watching the shoppers stroll along with their colorful bags heavy with their purchases. 

There are a few people sitting around the fountain: a father supervising his daughter as she tosses a coin into the water, a group of high school students drinking bubble tea, an elderly couple flipping through a paperback together. As Dongmin observes, another person walks over and sits on an empty stretch of the fountain, and he feels a frown come to his lips before his mind even processes why. 

It’s Donghyun. Of course it’s Donghyun. 

But even though Donghyun has no idea Dongmin is up here, looking away would feel too much like surrender. So he keeps watching the people at the fountain—though his gaze keeps returning to Donghyun of its own volition. 

It’s midday, so the sunlight streams perfectly through the big skylights above the fountain, making the interior of the mall feel bright and warm. The light catches on the blonde streaks in Donghyun’s hair and turns his skin golden. When he tips his face up, eyes closed as he basks in the warmth on his face, Dongmin remembers how long his eyelashes were and wonders vaguely if the sun makes them glow, too. 

Then he catches himself thinking about it and his frown deepens. Curse Sanghyuk for putting these ideas in his head. Curse Woonhak, too—he planted the seed first, actually, with his comment about their ‘weird sexual tension.’

Maybe… Maybe Sanghyuk is right. He might be doing his best to hate Donghyun, but Dongmin has eyes, and they can see that objectively he is divine. Maybe it would work; maybe fucking Donghyun is exactly what he needs to stop feeling on edge all the goddamn time these days. 

Then Dongmin’s vision refocuses, and suddenly Donghyun is looking right at him. It’s hard to make out his expression from this distance, but he lifts one hand and wiggles his fingers in that unmistakable flirty wave. 

And Dongmin recovers from his brief lapse of sanity. He cannot and will not sleep with Donghyun. Doing so would be as good as admitting defeat once and for all. 

He goes back to work. 

*

A few days later, Donghyun invades the Hot Topic. 

Dongmin doesn’t even notice at first. He’s rooting around behind the counter for a fresh roll of receipt paper, and when he straightens back up, Donghyun is just there. Typical. 

He has one elbow propped on the counter as he sifts absently through the container of loose pins, their metal backings clicking against each other. He’s wearing a navy flannel over a black tank today, and it’s slipping artfully off of one shoulder. Dongmin is briefly distracted by the exposed curve of his bicep before he reels it in and schools his expression into a glare. 

“What are you doing here,” Dongmin says flatly. 

Donghyun’s gaze flicks up to meet his eyes, and he smiles, bright and warm despite Dongmin’s obvious hostility. He tucks a loose curl of hair behind his ear and says, “I came to see you.”

There are two other people on this shift with him and Dongmin can practically feel them staring. They’re staring at Donghyun, actually, but Donghyun only seems to have eyes for him. 

Dongmin clears his throat. “Okay, why?”

“Come to the Spencer’s during your break.”

Dongmin stares at him for a few more seconds, trying to gauge his intentions. Donghyun just keeps smiling innocently. He has one finger still blindly stirring the pins, and Dongmin darts a hand out to still him, taking Donghyun by the wrist and pulling him away before he can accidentally stab himself. “What for?” Dongmin asks then, wary and irritable over having to pry answers out of Donghyun. 

Now that Dongmin has stopped him from fussing with the pins, Donghyun takes a pen from the cup on the counter, spinning it between his fingers. It seems like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. Dongmin watches the practiced motion of his fingers (he really does have nice hands) until Donghyun leans in closer, his expression turning coy. 

“It’s a surprise,” he says cryptically, keeping his voice low enough for it to feel intimate. 

Dongmin rolls his eyes instead of doing anything stupid, like sticking his hand in Donghyun’s face, or kissing him just to see how he’d react. “You’re probably planning on killing me in your back room,” he accuses. His throat feels dry. 

Donghyun, for his part, gives a long-suffering sigh, like Dongmin is the one being unreasonable. “I promise I’m not going to kill you in our back room.”

When Dongmin just keeps eyeing him disbelievingly, Donghyun holds his free hand up between them, pinky up. “I pinky promise I’m not going to kill you in our back room.”

Dongmin snorts before he can stop himself and Donghyun’s smile immediately returns. Against his better judgement, Dongmin links their pinkies. Donghyun’s expression brightens even further, like he’s just won something. Dongmin wonders if he’s just made a huge mistake. 

Their fingers stay hooked together for longer than is strictly necessary to make the promise. His hands are warm, Dongmin can’t help but notice. He feels the loss acutely when Donghyun draws his hand back. 

“See you later,” Donghyun croons, then saunters back out of the store, still holding the cheap ballpoint pen he stole from the cup. When he reaches the entrance, he turns back, and Dongmin expects him to come back and return it. But Donghyun just blows him a kiss, wiggles his fingers, and walks away. 

Behind him, one of Dongmin’s coworkers clears her throat. “Um. So, is that your boyfriend, or—”

“No,” Dongmin snaps, a knee-jerk reaction, before he remembers that he’s at work and he needs to be civil. “He’s my… nothing,” he explains lamely when he can’t think of a description that sounds less ridiculous than ‘pseudo-nemesis.’

“Well, if you don’t want him…” she says, at least half joking with her insinuation. 

Dongmin forces out a laugh, but the notion makes his stomach twist for some inexplicable reason. Why should he care what (or whom) Donghyun does? He doesn’t care, and the only reason Dongmin agreed to meet him later is to satiate his curiosity and cure his boredom. 

It’s not because anything about Donghyun appeals to him in any way. 

Definitely not. 

*

It’s a few hours before Dongmin can justify taking a break, during which he deals with four suburban moms who who think eyeliner on a man is satanic, ten gaggles of budding emo teenagers, two narrowly-avoided apocalyptic catastrophes, and one couple making out against the door to the fitting room. 

A part of him just wants to grab a pretzel and bother Woonhak for the entirety of his break like usual. But… he feels sort of guilty at the thought of bailing on Donghyun. And he is curious. 

Walking into the Spencer’s feels like entering enemy territory—not because anyone is acting hostile towards him at all. It’s just the principle. The lights are dimmer here than in the Hot Topic, and the shelves are higher, making it impossible to see into the depths of the shop without exploring it for himself. It’s like walking blindly into a maze, if that maze was in a garage full of weed paraphernalia and t-shirts of busty anime women. 

He wastes a precious minute of his break trying to find the counter. When he does, he finds Donghyun bent over it, doodling on a notepad with his stolen pen. He only looks up once Dongmin is standing right in front of him, and then he beams. 

“Hey,” he says brightly, standing and abandoning his drawing. It’s hard to tell upside-down, but it looks like a child’s rendition of a lion in outer space. “I’m gonna go on break,” Donghyun adds to the other guy behind the counter with him. The guy barely acknowledges him, but Donghyun doesn’t seem to care, just emerges from behind the counter to lead Dongmin by the arm deeper into the shop. 

“Where are you taking me?” Dongmin asks, internally debating whether or not to make his escape. 

“Just to the back.”

Dongmin starts to pull his arm away. “You pinky promised not to kill me in the back room,” Dongmin reminds him. 

“Relax,” Donghyun sighs. It’s incredibly difficult to listen when Donghyun pulls Dongmin into said back room, shuts the door behind them, and locks it.

“What the fuck?” Dongmin says, even more paranoid once he notices how effectively the sound is dampened back here by the tightly-packed shelves of overstocked shirts. “Why does this door lock from the inside?”

Donghyun doesn’t answer him. He steps closer, and closer, until Dongmin is forced to start backing up, his hands held up between them in a futile attempt to keep Donghyun back. Donghyun doesn’t stop until Dongmin’s back hits the wall, and even then he leans in closer, swaying teasingly into Dongmin’s space. 

“I have a present for you,” he says. 

It’s only then that Dongmin notices Donghyun has his hands behind his back like he’s hiding something. 

“… Is it a knife?” Dongmin asks warily. 

Donghyun sighs again. He looks like he’s seconds away from pouting. “No,” he says with obvious patience. Then he seems to school his features back into an innocent smile. He draws his hands from behind his back, presenting both closed fists to Dongmin like he wants him to guess which one his alleged ‘present’ is in. 

“Dude,” Dongmin says flatly, but Donghyun just pushes his fists forward more insistently. 

Dongmin picks at random, tapping the top of Donghyun’s right hand. He opens it, showing off his empty palm. Dongmin taps his left hand. He does the same; both of his hands are empty. 

Before Dongmin can call him out for wasting his time, Donghyun reaches behind his back again and produces something with an exaggerated flourish. “Ta-da!” he says proudly, pushing a small box into Dongmin’s hands. 

Dongmin blinks slowly, desperately trying to process what he’s seeing. “Hott Love Extreme Shine Bright 10-function vibrating jewel butt plug,” he recites, perfectly monotone. 

“With remote,” Donghyun adds, leaning forward to tap the corresponding text on the box. “I didn’t know how experienced you were, so this is one of the smallest ones we have. You should be able to—”

“What the hell do you expect me to do with this?” Dongmin interrupts. It’s not the right question, but he’s completely stunned and it’s the first thing that comes out. He’s not a prude or a puritan; there’s nothing wrong with sex toys. But why is Donghyun giving him one? (And why is the door locked?)

When he tears his gaze away from the box and meets Donghyun’s eyes, Donghyun really is pouting now. Like he’s sad that Dongmin is rightfully kind of scandalized. But then he watches in real time as Donghyun’s expression shifts into a scheming grin. Not good. 

“Want me to show you how to use it?”

Dongmin sputters for a minute before he manages to snap, “I know how they work.” He’s so far out of his depth right now, and he can feel the heat rising to his cheeks from flustered mortification. 

Donghyun’s expression takes on the edge of a smirk. “That’s not what I was asking,” he says, lowering his voice to a murmur. “I spent good money on this thing. I want to make sure you… enjoy it.”

Distantly, Dongmin wonders if maybe their friends have been scheming this whole time to set them up. Maybe Sanghyuk and Sungho have been secretly meeting up with Jaehyun trying to get one of them to make a move. Maybe Woonhak is the mastermind. But he forgets all about his conspiracy theories when Donghyun leans in just a little bit closer and Dongmin gets a whiff of his woody-spicy perfume and the faint acrid sweetness of cigarette smoke. 

What the fuck even is his life? Why is Donghyun propositioning him? Why is Dongmin going to say yes?

“I mean—here? Right now? I-I-I have to go back to work in fifteen minutes.” God, he sounds like a loser. And a virgin. (And he’s neither of those things, thank you very much.)

“That’s plenty of time,” Donghyun reasons, coy now. “Don’t you want it?” 

He’s practically batting his eyelashes, and god is it working. Dongmin can feel himself cave. He sends out his final curses to the universe and ultimately accepts his defeat. 

“Fuck you, man,” he sighs, and drags Donghyun in by his stupid flannel. 

Donghyun makes this surprised, pleased noise against Dongmin’s lips, one hand immediately finding his waist and the other cupping Dongmin’s cheek to fix the angle. It’s… nice. It’s really nice, actually. Donghyun’s lips are so soft, and he seems to know exactly what to do with them. 

When he deepens the kiss, Dongmin remembers with a start that Donghyun has a tongue piercing. The added sensation of warm metal is completely foreign to Dongmin—he’s never made out with anybody who had a tongue piercing before—but he can already feel himself getting addicted. Not to mention the taste of him; he’d expected Donghyun to taste like smoke, maybe, but he’s sweet. Like candy and sugar. Dongmin kisses him harder just to see if he can figure out what Donghyun was eating before he arrived. 

Fuck, Sanghyuk was totally right about him. They’ve barely even done anything yet, but even just kissing Donghyun quenches the fire that’s been raging below his skin for god knows how long. Maybe getting laid will help you relax. He pulls Donghyun closer in a silent plea for a distraction from his thoughts. 

And Donghyun provides him with it readily, kissing Dongmin until his mind is devoid of everything but how warm Donghyun’s mouth is, how nice it feels when his thumb strokes over his cheek. Dongmin is barely aware enough to be embarrassed about it when he lets out a quiet whine in protest as Donghyun starts to pull away.

Donghyun gives him one final peck to placate him, then whispers, “Turn around.”

Dongmin’s first instinct is to obey immediately. He resists, if only so that Donghyun can’t call him easy. When he does turn to face the wall, it’s only after staring hard into Donghyun’s eyes; his way of conveying that he’s choosing to listen. 

But Donghyun sees straight through him. “Good boy,” he praises, and Dongmin shivers. He flips Donghyun off over his shoulder when he hears him giggle. 

Mercifully, Donghyun doesn’t bring up his response to the praise, instead pressing a wet kiss to Dongmin’s nape and settling his hands on his hips. Dongmin has to brace himself against the cold, concrete wall when Donghyun’s hands wander up his shirt to brush over his nipples, then slip back down to squeeze at his waist. He’s a fucking tease, and Dongmin should have expected as much, but it’s still totally maddening. 

“Relax, hm?” Donghyun coaxes like he can hear what Dongmin is thinking. His hands slide around to Dongmin’s front and pop open the button of his jeans. At the same time, he presses his lips to the back of Dongmin’s neck again, and Dongmin does feel himself relax. Even more so when Donghyun’s warm fingers slip down the front of his jeans, palming him through his underwear. He sighs at the touch and finds his traitorous mind wishing they were somewhere they could take their time with each other. 

But as it is, the seconds of their break are steadily ticking by, and Donghyun pushes Dongmin’s jeans and underwear down to his thighs. Part of him is mortified to have his dick out in the back room of the Spencer’s. The rest of him is focused on the sound of a bottle snapping open. 

“You even have lube?” Dongmin says. 

“Yeah, obviously,” Donghyun replies seriously. “You shouldn’t ever use these things without lube, Dongmin.”

Dongmin rolls his eyes. He knows that, but Donghyun having lube at the ready means that he planned out this absurd escapade pretty meticulously. “That’s really not the point—” he starts to argue, only Donghyun chooses that moment to press the tip of one finger into him, and the words are lost in a strangled noise. 

It goes in easily, but Donghyun’s fingers feel thicker than they look. Dongmin gasps as he starts to thrust shallowly. 

“So what is the point?” Donghyun asks.

Dongmin opens his mouth to respond, but his mind fails him as Donghyun’s finger slips in deeper, curling and pressing. “I don’t remember,” he breathes instead, letting his forehead thump against the wall. 

Donghyun’s only response is a quiet hum, which feels vaguely condescending and is inexplicably hot. On the next careful thrust, he presses in a second finger. Dongmin groans quietly at the stretch, pushing back against Donghyun’s hand to try and get him in deeper. He groans again when Donghyun’s other hand grips his hip to keep him still. He’s strong, and Dongmin has no choice but to let Donghyun work him open as slowly as he pleases. 

“You’re opening up for me so nicely,” Donghyun croons once he’s able to slide both fingers all the way in with minimal resistance, scissoring them apart to make Dongmin moan again. 

Dongmin’s hips jolt at the praise, precum beading at the tip of his neglected cock. “Please be quiet,” he breathes. Donghyun hums again, then curls his fingers just right, sending a shock of pleasure down Dongmin’s spine that has him biting back a wail. 

“Why?” Donghyun asks, mischievous. “Are you gonna come just from my fingers?”

Dongmin absolutely could, and absolutely will if Donghyun keeps pressing his fingers right there. But as much as his body craves the immediate relief, Donghyun said he’d use the toy on him, and Dongmin will go right back to burning from the inside out if he doesn’t get that today. 

So he shakes his head roughly, hoping Donghyun will get his meaning without him having to fight to articulate it. Donghyun seems to understand. He kisses Dongmin’s neck, surprisingly tender this time, and reaches forward to pluck the box from Dongmin’s hand. He’d forgotten he was still holding it. “Maybe next time,” Donghyun says agreeably, then withdraws his fingers. He does it slowly, but Dongmin still groans at the loss. 

Waiting is torture; he just has to stand there with his pants down while Donghyun digs through the packaging in the box. “Do you use these?” Dongmin asks. It’s partially just to fill the quiet, but admittedly he’s curious, too. 

The bottle of lube snaps open again. “Well, this one I bought specifically for you. But I have other toys from here, yeah. I’ll show you sometime.”

“Oh,” Dongmin says dumbly. (Is Donghyun inviting him over?) “So… did you just get this one today, then?”

There’s a brief pause which Dongmin only realizes must be bashfulness when Donghyun speaks again. “It was like, the day after we met, actually.”

Holy shit. “So, do you get off on people despising you, or—”

Donghyun interrupts him with a little laugh, and with the tip of the plug pressing against Dongmin’s hole. “No, I just thought you could use it. You seem very pent up.”

“Funny,” Dongmin says, going breathless as the widest part of the toy stretches his rim. Donghyun prepped him well, and it really isn’t very big, but… Well, it’s been a while. “You’re not the first person to think that.”

“Am I the first person to do something about it?” Donghyun asks. He sounds far too conversational for the way he draws the plug back out, then thrusts it in again, then repeats the motion until Dongmin starts to feel lube dripping down his thigh. His sanity is probably spilling out along with it. 

“In—in recent memory, yeah.” Dongmin squeezes his eyes shut, pressing his forehead to the cool concrete of the wall again. “God, it’s like you’re fucking me.”

Donghyun laughs again, nuzzles into the back of Dongmin’s shoulder almost affectionately. “I’m a lot bigger than that,” he murmurs. Dongmin shivers. “I’ll show you sometime, too.”

“Okay,” Dongmin agrees unthinkingly, and Donghyun rewards him with a kiss to the sensitive skin behind his ear. He sinks the plug all the way in, Dongmin whining faintly at the stretch, before he turns him back around so they’re facing each other. 

“How is it?” Donghyun asks, brushing his palm over Dongmin’s cheek. 

Dongmin braces his hands on Donghyun’s shoulders just to keep himself upright. “It’s—it’s good. Doesn’t hurt.”

“Good,” Donghyun says, and it sounds like he really means it. He’s a much more considerate partner than Dongmin would have expected based on their previous interactions. Dongmin is admittedly grateful for it. “I’ll turn it on, okay?”

The second Dongmin nods, the plug comes to life, with a low-level but unrelenting, inescapable vibration. Dongmin jerks forward, muffling his moan in Donghyun’s shoulder, hips thrusting into nothing. 

Donghyun murmurs soothing nonsense about how good Dongmin is doing and lets Dongmin drag him in closer until they’re almost flush. His hand holding the remote comes up to rub Dongmin’s back, while the other reaches down to stroke his dripping cock. The relief is immense. He sighs into Donghyun’s neck, though it turns into another moan when the plug suddenly begins to vibrate faster. 

“Still okay?” Donghyun prompts quietly. 

Dongmin has to fight to find his words while every nerve in his body is singing, his entire focus narrowed down to the plug and Donghyun’s warm hand around him. He only realizes he’s dug his teeth into Donghyun’s neck when he goes to respond. He brushes his lips over the bite mark in apology. “Y-yeah,” he manages shakily, pressing his hips forward into Donghyun’s touch, not quite in time with his strokes. 

“Still hate the Spencer’s?” Donghyun adds, smug this time. 

“Yeah,” Dongmin repeats, but even to his own ears he sounds thoroughly unconvincing. “Cheap-ass sex toys.”

“Maybe, but you’re still moaning.”

Dongmin has no retort for that, and so Donghyun just chuckles softly, then coaxes him into tipping his head up so they can kiss again. Dongmin melts right into it, and Donghyun seems to as well, humming against Dongmin’s lips and letting him push his tongue into his mouth. They make out until Dongmin almost starts to get used to the intense vibration, save for the moments where his body clenches down on the toy of its own accord and sends new sparks of pleasure through his veins. 

Maybe Donghyun senses him starting to relax, because he pulls away to ask, frustratingly casual again, “Hey. Want me to suck you off?”

Dongmin’s first instinct is actually to refuse, simply because he wants to keep kissing him (and because he might fall over without Donghyun practically holding him up). But the part of him that’s still kind of hung up on their rivalry practically purrs at the thought of having Donghyun on his knees for him. Not to mention his tongue piercing… Dongmin would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious how it would feel against his cock. 

“Okay,” he agrees. It’s pretty flattering, the way Donghyun’s tongue darts out to wet his lips as he sinks to his knees, like he can’t wait to have Dongmin in his mouth. His hands slip down to Dongmin’s hips, keeping him pressed to the wall. It’s probably a strategic choice, because the second Donghyun kisses the head, Dongmin reflexively thrusts forward against his grip. 

Donghyun chuckles lowly at the reaction. His breath is warm on Dongmin’s cock, and Dongmin shivers at the sensation. Then he has to slap a hand over his own mouth to muffle an embarrassingly loud moan when Donghyun wraps his lips around the head and simultaneously ups the intensity of the vibrator. His other hand tangles in Donghyun’s hair, gripping hard but doing his best not to pull. He just needs something, anything to hold onto, because his legs have become useless to him. It feels like he’s seconds away from collapsing, or coming, or both. 

“Donghyun,” Dongmin groans, still half muffled behind his own hand. “Fuck, god, fuck—”

The curses are a direct response to Donghyun peering up at him with that intense gaze and laving his tongue exaggeratedly over Dongmin’s cock, his tongue piercing dragging perfectly over the slit. The sight is going to replay in his head forever. He’s going to dream about this until he dies. 

Donghyun takes him in deeper, and at first Dongmin thinks he’s being merciful—until the intense, but consistent vibration is replaced by sporadic bursts at irregular intervals. It’s unpredictable and absolutely maddening, especially with Donghyun’s hands still pinning him so he can’t push into or get away from any of the sensations plaguing his body. 

“Please,” he moans this time, somewhere between despair and frustration, internally cursing himself for stooping to begging. He’s making himself look pathetic in front of Donghyun. He can’t seem to stop. “Please, I—I can’t—”

Donghyun swallows around him and Dongmin nearly chokes on air. He loosens his grip on Dongmin’s hips just long enough for Dongmin to thrust into his mouth once—which feels heavenly—before he pulls off entirely. 

Dongmin whines at the loss even as the random vibrations keep making his muscles spasm, already tugging desperately at Donghyun’s hair. Donghyun doesn’t make him wait long. He wraps one hand back around Dongmin’s cock, licks over the head, and says, “Come on my face.”

“Fuck—fuck—” Dongmin nearly shouts when Donghyun changes the setting on the toy again. The vibrations are consistent again, but so intense that he’s seeing stars in the back room of the goddamn Spencer’s. The hand not gripping Donghyun’s hair to keep himself upright joins Donghyun’s on his cock, jerking himself off rough and urgent. 

But what does him in once and for all is the sight of Donghyun closing his eyes and opening his mouth, his tongue lolling out to show off his piercing. Dongmin makes an obscene, humiliating noise and comes harder than he ever has in his life. 

Donghyun moans when some of it lands on his tongue, closing his mouth to swallow. Dongmin just watches him, totally awed, feeling vaguely like he’s floating in the wake of his orgasm. At some point, Donghyun must have turned the toy off, but Dongmin can still feel the ghost of the sensation, muscles twitching every now and then.

When Donghyun opens his eyes again, it’s with a look of satisfaction and smugness. Maybe an hour ago, that expression would have ignited feelings of inexplicable rage in Dongmin’s stomach. But he’s just relaxed now. He can’t remember the last time he felt this at ease. 

Still, the expression is an interesting combination with Dongmin’s cum still painting Donghyun’s face. He swipes some spend off of Donghyun’s cheek in an attempt to return the consideration Donghyun has shown him this whole time—then watches in awe as Donghyun turns his head to take his fingers into his mouth. 

The sensation is an echo of when he had his mouth around Dongmin’s cock, the hard metal of his piercing dragging over sensitive skin. Dongmin whines faintly at the sensation. If he keeps this up, Dongmin might actually get hard again. 

Except he realizes after a moment that this is more for Donghyun’s pleasure than his own. The remote clatters to the floor as Donghyun fumbles with the fly of his jeans. When he takes out his cock, Dongmin’s mouth waters. It’s big just like he said, a little bigger than Dongmin himself, and it’s pretty, and it would probably reach so deep inside him that he’d forget his own name. (He’s given up on convincing himself that he’s not attracted to Donghyun.)

He watches as Donghyun strokes himself off, subconsciously memorizing the pace, where his hand lingers, what makes his breath hitch around Dongmin’s fingers. A part of him wants to help, but he’s too invested in watching—plus, his legs are so shaky that if he goes down there, he won’t be able to get back up. 

But Donghyun doesn’t need much help anyway. He seems happy enough to suck on Dongmin’s fingers and stroke himself efficiently until he spills over his hand and the floor, moaning shamelessly like he doesn’t care who hears him. 

Afterwards, he lets Dongmin slip his fingers out of his mouth without protest, then leans his sweat-damp forehead against his thigh. Donghyun’s breath is warm. Dongmin shivers faintly, then again when Donghyun kisses him there. Then he whines when the kiss turns into sucking a mark into the soft flesh, though he doesn’t even consider pushing Donghyun away. 

Once Donghyun is apparently satisfied, he shrugs off his flannel. He uses it to wipe his face, then starts to clean them both up. Dongmin is distantly judgmental that Donghyun thought to bring lube but not wipes or something—but most of his mind is occupied by the sight of Donghyun’s arms. Dongmin knew vaguely that Donghyun was probably decently muscular, but he wasn’t prepared for this. Dongmin wants to dig his teeth into those biceps. 

“Jesus,” he mutters. His face feels warm, and he fans himself unthinkingly. 

“What is it?” Donghyun prompts, oblivious. He’s standing up now, wiping the mess off of Dongmin’s thighs. 

Dongmin cooperates when Donghyun turns him around, gasping as he slowly begins to ease the plug out. “Nothing,” he breathes. He’s swallowed enough of his pride for today; admitting he’s turned on by Donghyun’s sleeper build can wait a little longer. 

“Did you wanna wear it back to work?” Donghyun teases when Dongmin all but slumps against the wall once the toy is out. It wasn’t big enough for Dongmin to feel empty now, but he still notices the difference. 

“I’m good, thanks,” he replies dryly, pulling his jeans back up once he’s caught his breath again. 

When he turns back around, Donghyun is tying his flannel around his waist, watching Dongmin with a soft smile. “But you liked it, right?” he says. “It felt good?”

“I… Yeah,” Dongmin admits. Donghyun’s smile only gets brighter and he leans into Dongmin’s space, hands finding his waist apparently just for the sake of touching him. Dongmin can forgive himself for melting into it. 

But from this close, Dongmin’s eyes land on the perfect imprint of his teeth at the juncture of Donghyun’s shoulder and neck. His stupid tank top does nothing to hide it, and it’s an obvious dark red against his pale skin. “Everybody’s gonna know we were fucking,” Dongmin sighs. 

Donghyun laughs. He reaches up to pet Dongmin’s hair, half placating, and half to tame any wayward strands. Dongmin forgives himself for enjoying that, too. 

“People have done way worse in here,” Donghyun assures him. “Nobody cares.”

“You Spencer’s people are degenerates.”

Donghyun’s smile turns into a proper cheeky grin. “Don’t act like you don’t like it.” He loops his arms around Dongmin’s waist—like they’re boyfriends or something, like he’s trying to coax him by sweet-talking and batting his eyelashes. 

(It’s totally working.)

“Yeah, what the fuck ever, dude,” Dongmin says anyway. Before, he might have spat the words, but there’s no heat behind them now. Acceptance, maybe. (Affection, if he’s honest.)

Donghyun’s lips, which are red and a bit swollen still from sucking Dongmin off, form a perfect little pout. “I had your dick in my mouth,” he reminds him, petulant, as if that’s not exactly what Dongmin is thinking about right now. “You can’t call me dude anymore.”

Dongmin’s responding look is thoroughly unimpressed, but Donghyun just keeps pouting until he gives in. 

“Baby,” he croons mockingly, then cringes at himself both inwardly and outwardly. 

But Donghyun’s pout melts away. He beams up at Dongmin, giggling as he leans in to press a long, chaste kiss to the corner of his lips. When he pulls away, it’s with a cheesy little, ‘Mwah!’ 

“We can work on that,” Donghyun says agreeably. Dongmin feels butterflies come to life in his stomach. 

Even more so when Donghyun threads their fingers together and guides him back towards the door. “You should clean this properly before the next time you use it,” Donghyun advises as they step back into the store proper, holding up the box. Hott Love Extreme Shine Bright 10-function vibrating jewel butt plug. Jesus. “Just regular soap and water is okay for this one, but it’s always better if you use cleaners specifically designed for toys,” he adds, reaching over to pluck a bottle off one of the shelves. “I’ll get you a bag for these.” He only releases Dongmin’s hand once they reach the counter. (Dongmin misses the warmth as soon as he lets go.)

Donghyun steps back behind the counter—the other guy on shift with him hasn’t moved an inch—and rifles around until he finds an appropriately sized, nondescript brown paper bag. He drops both items inside but doesn’t hand it over right away. Instead, he returns to the notepad he was drawing on earlier, tears off the astronaut lion picture, and flips it over to scribble something on the back. Dongmin watches him impassively, leaning against the opposite side of the counter because he still doesn’t trust himself to stay upright on his own. 

The note goes into the bag, too, and then Donghyun slides it over into Dongmin’s reach. Dongmin takes it, then lingers there awkwardly for a long few seconds. It feels wrong, just casually walking away after all… that. Shouldn’t they, like, hug or something? Kiss again, maybe?

He doesn’t work up the courage to do either of those things by the time he realizes he was supposed to be back at the Hot Topic five minutes ago. “Well… thanks,” he says lamely. 

Donghyun, who had been watching him patiently this whole time, beams again. “Bye, Dongmin. I’ll see you later.”

Dongmin manages a vague noise in agreement and finally forces himself to back away from the counter. He drinks in the warmth of Donghyun’s smile for one more second, then turns on unsteady legs to make his escape from this stoner labyrinth. 

Once he’s on the escalator back up to the second floor, Dongmin fishes out the note from the bag, unable to deny his curiosity for any longer. Perhaps unsurprisingly, there’s a phone number, and a short message:

for if u need another demonstration ;)

Dongmin snorts audibly, but he’s careful when he folds up the note and slips it into his pocket. (He immediately pulls it back out to save Donghyun’s number to his phone.)

*

Sanghyuk and Sungho are squinting at him from across one of the food court tables. 

Dongmin shifts in his seat uncomfortably under the scrutiny. It’s only been a day since his little tryst with Donghyun, but that means he’s gotten a good look at himself in the mirror and he knows for a fact that there’s no physical evidence on him—no bites, no hickeys save for the one on his thigh that’s currently covered by his only pair of unripped jeans. 

So why does it feel like they know?

Sanghyuk leans forward over the table. Dongmin leans back, but he can only go so far before he risks tipping his chair over. “You seem… relaxed,” Sanghyuk says as he settles back into his seat. 

Which is true. For some reason, the calmness that settled into him after that intense orgasm hasn’t actually left. There’s no feral creature under his skin trying to claw its way out, no simmering irritability threatening to boil over. Dongmin shrugs and expects it to be left at that. 

But then Sungho’s eyes go wide. He looks at Sanghyuk, then back to Dongmin, like he’s had some kind of revelation—though Sungho reacts to new recipes the same way he’d react to uncovering secrets of the universe. He sounds awed when he says, “He fucked it out of you.”

The ‘he’ in question has to be Donghyun, and the ‘it’ in question is probably Dongmin’s rage. So sucking it out of him would probably be more accurate, but Dongmin is much more invested in flipping his friends off than he is in correcting them. 

Unfortunately, they’re still absolutely right. 

(Fortunately, Donghyun seems willing to do it again.)