Chapter Text
It hits him like a freight train once he realizes what the smell of peaches and his visceral reaction to it means—that this is it, the moment he’s been waiting for ever since he presented. Hell, maybe even before that, when he was just a pup eager to know more about the world, who listened to tales about true mates and wolves finding their forever partners with curious, bright doe eyes.
He has a mate. He’s found his mate.
The sweet scent of peaches curls around him like a brand, and the instant, incessant craving for it makes a home under his skin, a feeling of both desperation and something akin to finally belonging taking root in him. It drives him sick with a mix of confusing emotions: hope, longing, warmth, and a desperation he can’t control.
It’s unexpected because he’s never taken much notice of smells that are on the sweeter side, his mouth never salivating for them. He actually disliked most fruits, even some desserts that his pack used to make were too much for his sensitive nose.
Now, he’s starving for it. He’d be willing to do anything to get just one taste—to get close to him.
Jeongguk becomes restless, a fire settling in his gut, an itch to be close to his mate in any way he can. He’s never longed for someone more than he does now, the person he wants to be with for the rest of his life at the reach of his hand yet so far away. The pull, he dares say, is stronger than that pull wolves feel when the full moon is close, that unstoppable urge to shift—right now, it’s like nature is pulling him towards his mate, tethering him to his instincts, instincts that scream at him to make a move; to court, mate, protect, kiss, touch, breed his mate.
He’s sure—
“Excuse me?” The clear annoyance in his mate’s voice and his arched brow bring Jeongguk crashing back down to earth.
He looks up, immediately feeling dazed at what he sees.
Jimin, Jeongguk notes the badge on his chest says once he’s able to look away from his pretty face. Jimin. He says it under his breath once, twice, then more slowly, savoring the name of his mate on his tongue. His mate.
He has a mate. It’s overwhelming to think about it.
But when he looks at the omega—his omega—standing in front of him, at the frown on his face, as he notices his arms crossed in front of his chest, Jeongguk realizes, then and there, that the mystic, overwhelming feeling he’s experiencing, one he’s only heard of in tales about true mates and an everlasting love that was so strong of a connection that it would be felt by both of them when they found each other because it was the universe pushing them together, right now isn’t affecting his mate in the same way it’s affecting him for some reason. It’s not affecting him at all, actually.
Jimin doesn’t look fazed at all by the feelings Jeongguk is having. He looks like he’s upset with him.
It’s then, in this cute little shop, surrounded by the scent of peaches, standing just a few meters from his true mate, that Jeongguk realizes he’s fallen irrevocably in love with an omega that hates him all because of a first encounter that’s gone wrong, one he hasn’t had time to completely process yet.
Jeongguk had convinced himself long ago that he’d be ready to meet his mate whenever and wherever destiny thrust them towards him, that he’d adapt quickly once he realized he met them, and woo them with everything he had.
Now, though, he feels vulnerable, and lost after somehow offending his mate and utterly fucking up his chances. For how long he’d been waiting—dreaming and fantasizing even—for this exact moment, as hopeless of a romantic as he had always been, nothing had happened in the way he had been expecting. Nothing could’ve prepared him for the disdain he sees reflected in his mate’s eyes when he looks at Jeongguk, for the way his mouth curves in disgust, the way he seems to want him as far away from him as possible.
For how much it hurts.
His wolf, affected by the bad impression too, tells him to fight back, that he must try to make a good impression and get his mate to give him another chance. Tells Jeongguk that he should do anything, whatever it takes, to make it up to him in hopes of still having a chance.
But once he becomes more aware of the once sweet, delicious smell of peaches getting more sour as the seconds go by, Jeongguk simply bows his head, turns around, and leaves—feeling like he’s suffocating, too overwhelmed with everything that just went down.
Tears prickle his eyes as he quickly makes his way back to the parlor. His heart feels heavy.
☾
The day Jeongguk ends up meeting the love of his life, falls in love with him, and in a surprising turn of events, ends up making said love of his life despise his guts, starts like any other day at first—then it goes downhill in a few seconds. It’s a catastrophe of epic proportions, to say the least.
He’s new to his job, working as a full-time tattoo artist at a cozy tattoo parlor that stands proudly amidst a very busy street full of different businesses—it’s rarely empty, and on just his fourth day of working there, word’s already spread around about his talent with designs and his delicate hand for the work on the skin, most of his clients praising him because they didn’t feel any discomfort and pain, so he’s gone the whole morning without a break, his schedule filled to the brim with clients eager to get their skin marked by his ink and his skilled, gentle hand.
Though he’s grateful for the work and the good publicity done by his clients praising him, which may give him a permanent spot here, by the time his first break comes at 11, he’s already exhausted and thirsty; the clothes he has on his back never stood a chance against the hot rays of sun filtering through the blinds and the general warm temperature of the parlor.
There’s a thin sheen of sweat on his nape; he needs a cold bottle of water right this moment. Maybe two—or three, if possible. But when he gets to the vending machine that’s inside the shop, some minutes pass after he inputs the code for a bottle of water and nothing gets expelled from it. Then he tries again and again, and he’s soon put thrice as much money as one bottle is worth, thinking at first it was simply a matter of a coin getting stuck in it before he finds out it’s simply broken. He sighs.
Just his luck. He contemplates whether to complain or not. He wouldn’t say no to getting his change back, but also he’s new, and he doesn’t want to seem like a conflictive person—a conflictive Alpha at that —over something that might be nonconsequential, like buying a bottle of water.
He really wants to keep his job and not be labeled as confrontational. He wished both those things didn’t have an influence on each other, but the truth is, they often did.
Still, he’s thirsty, down a few coins, and in need of a bottle or two of cold, sparkling water, having worked up quite a sweat after having spent 4 hours in a session of a back piece just now. He’s always preferred bottled water to tap water after he moved to the city. Tap water tastes strange to him after spending a lot of time drinking the distilled water made by his pack in the woods, so he figures grabbing a bottle from a shop close by during his break and then going back to the parlor won’t hurt if he’s quick, planning to get in and out as quickly as possible.
He approaches his coworker, Hoseok, a nice but mischievous beta with a chamomile scent who’s been guiding him since he was new. Hoseok tells him to go back to get the money that the vending machine swallowed later, once the shift ends, because someone will come to repair it then (the vending machine apparently had that problem frequently), and informs him there’s a cafeteria two stores down that sells all sorts of drinks and all kinds of delicious pastries for him to choose from if he wants them.
He even offers to look over his stuff and deal with any clients that may appear while he goes to buy what he needs.
Jeongguk tells him he doesn’t like sweets and that he’s never been able to stand smells that are on the sweeter side, but he thanks him anyway for the tip and tells him that he’ll go get something to drink. Just as he moves to exit the parlor and go there, Hoseok whistles, calling out to him, a glint of amusement in his eyes. Jeongguk stops in his tracks and tilts his head to look at him. Before he leaves, Hoseok gives him a once-over up and down, and just when Jeongguk thinks he’s going to say something, he shrugs, a quirk to his mouth telling Jeongguk there’s something he’s not telling. Then he turns around, and Jeongguk’s left standing there.
Choosing to ignore Hoseok’s weird behavior for now, since Jeongguk’s more thirsty than anything, he lets it go and chooses to ask him about it later and just go to the store in hopes of getting his water quickly.
He pushes the door open, a bell tinkling from above him, with one goal in his mind: get inside, look for a bottle of water, pay for it, down it all in one go, get another one for later, then get back to the parlor, and finish the rest of appointments he has scheduled for today—he’s thinking about all that and more, driven solely by instinct, thirst, and his chaotic schedule running rampant in his head, when he steps fully inside and a blonde omega appears in front of him and catches his eye, so bright and incandescent.
The only thought he has before it all goes down is that he’s so beautiful, it’s like he’s touched heaven just with the sight in front of him. Then, his mouth goes dry all in one go. He forgets all about the water and why he came into the shop in the first place. Instead, the only thing he can think of—the only thing he craves—is the omega in front of him.
Omega, omega, omega, his wolf chants inside his head. Get closer.
For what happens next, he can, well, he kind of only has himself to blame for. He knows his scent must be a little bit stronger due to having spent long hours cramped in his studio—since the suppressant patches he uses usually start to wear off at this time of the day, and they work like sunscreen, he’s made it a habit to change them at least 4 times through his work schedule, but he hasn’t gotten to do it yet.
Jeongguk takes a deep breath without thinking as he basks in the mesmerizing sight in front of him, and he realizes too late that it’s the worst thing he could’ve done, his scent immediately spiking as he feels the omega’s scent getting to him.
Peaches.
Fuck. The omega. He’s his omega. His omega. Jeongguk wants to eat him up, in his cute, frilly apron, and touch his soft skin. He wants to bask in him, catch the stray flour leftover staining his cheeks with his thumb, and spread it over his soft cheeks. He wants to touch his lips, feel them under his, and part them with his tongue. He needs to taste what it feels like to kiss him—feel the taste of peaches under his tongue. Feel him.
He’s so cute. Beautiful, gorgeous even, and he smells so good, looks like he could carry all his—
A shiver runs up his spine once the omega takes a hesitant step forward, and he feels as if he has been shaken by the shoulders. His skin itches and his throat burns with the need to shout something to call for the omega’s attention. The only thing stopping him is his own Alpha telling him he needs to make a good impression on their future mate—and that’s when he realizes he’s found his mate. It’s earth-shattering, and he doesn’t know how to react or what to say.
His Alpha seems to shake him again, pushes at him, tells him he should calm himself down, appear composed, and like he’d be a good provider for him and the family they could have together. Right now he’s a mess—his scent patches wearing off, sweat clinging to his frame, a too-tight tank top, and his throat parched from the long hours spent at the studio. He’ll end up looking like a frail, hormone-driven idiot, and how reliable would that make him in the eyes of his beautiful mate?
He had one chance, one chance for a first meeting because getting to meet the love of his life needs to be special; that’s what all his life he’s been taught. It should be special, yet now, it’s not ideal at all, because if the omega steps closer, if he takes one whiff at him, he’ll know how horny he smells and realize how desperate Jeongguk is.
It’s bad timing for sure, but could anyone blame him for his reaction upon meeting his omega? His wolf tries to make him come to terms with the fact his reaction’s natural, that it’s a good sign that he’s nervous and so rattled, that it means he’s right and they’re mates, if only to help Jeongguk calm down and get a hold of himself, tries to tell him that this strong reaction is a sign, marks the moment where he meets his mate and woes him and they fall in love and—
Jeongguk’s mind is going on overdrive, and he realizes there’s no going back when the omega beams at him and then opens his delightful little pink mouth—God, those plump lips—and—yeah, anytime now he’ll smell him.
“Welcome to Serendipity! What can I help you with—’’ The waiter yelps, just having gotten a whiff of his scent, effectively tripping on the air and falling forward in his shock. Jeongguk reacts instinctively, stepping forward and catching him by the waist just as he almost goes down.
That first contact, even if it’s not skin upon skin, but god, the closeness, feeling his scent and warmth from so, so close, sends Jeongguk’s nerves into a frenzy.
In the process, the cupcake the omega had in his hand as he entered the shop falls and hits Jeongguk on the upper side of his chest once, staining his shirt with a bit of cream. Jeongguk watches as it falls to the floor comically slow, as if in slow motion.
The omega blushes furiously, from his mistake or Jeongguk’s scent, he doesn’t know. But god, he wants him. He wants to eat him up—eat him up and eat him out, taste him in any way he can. His scent’s so sweet, and though Jeongguk doesn’t favor sweet smells or flavors, he can’t think of anything better right now than the tantalizing scent of peaches of the omega that’s in front of him.
He wants to drown in the scent of peaches forever. He wants to eat him up. He wants him. Him and only him.
The omega shakes himself and tries to step back and put a little distance between them, but Jeongguk’s too dizzy for that; he doesn’t move at all. “Shit, I’m sorry. Really.’’ He’s flustered, a nervous chuckle that shows Jeongguk he’s embarrassed, leaving his mouth. “I’m so sorry! Your shirt, ah! I’m usually—ah!’’ He yelps again, moving slightly to the side, further away than Jeongguk would like.
Once Jeongguk pulls his hand back, he grazes a bit of the exposed skin of his waist with the gesture without thinking and feels dizzy at the contact.
Shit. He needs to say something before he ends up falling to his knees and proposing right now in plain daylight in the middle of a store after knowing him for less than 5 minutes.
“Hey. Don’t worry.’’ Jeongguk laughs, lighthearted. The omega’s eyes open slightly, and then they crinkle in laughter as he realizes Jeongguk’s not mad for having gotten his shirt dirty. God, he’s so cute. Is it too early to ask him to marry him? The omega seems so clumsy and so nervous, though, so first things first: trying to show he can be a good mate by reassuring him. Other things, like asking him out, can be next. “Don’t worry, please. Really. Don’t worry, I get it!’’
“Oh! Yeah?’’ The waiter tilts his head to the side, and he’s so cute to Jeongguk that he wants to eat him up, even in his confusion. His fingers twitch with the urge to caress his cheeks or touch his waist again.
“Yeah, I get it.’’ Jeongguk chuckles, and the waiter’s brows furrow slightly, waiting for Jeongguk to keep talking. “I’m new too, clearly not new here of course—’’ Jeongguk chuckles low, praying between each word that the spike in his scent is dimming, “I don’t work here, yeah. But you have no idea how much I’ve fucked up this week since I’m new at my job, I work super close by.’’ He tries to reassure him with his surface-level story of failure, trying to calm his own beating heart as he speaks. He makes his voice softer as he talks, in hopes of sounding reassuring.
When the curve of the waiter’s mouth turns down, his nerves go haywire. He wishes he knew him a little better to know what to do to get that frown off his face. He doesn’t understand what he’s doing wrong. “Excuse me?” The clear annoyance in his mate’s voice and his arched brow bring Jeongguk crashing back to earth.
Jimin, the badge on his chest says, still a little dazed. Jimin. He says it under his breath and savors the name. His mate.
He has a mate.
Jeongguk frantically shakes himself and tries to save the situation. “I’m not saying you’re fucking up! Not at all! No, no! But well, yeah, don’t worry. I have to shower anyway and wash my shirt of course, because, well, laundry! I love doing laundry and washing shirts every day! So no problem at all. Also, it’s understandable, seriously, these things happen when one’s new, especially the first week as you try to get a handle on things.’’ He grins at him, all teeth, thinking, yeah, we’re good. We did great. He almost pats himself once he thinks he might’ve fixed it.
Sure he’s managed to calm Jimin down once he doesn’t move, Jeongguk’s ready to keep going, about to ask him out for dinner later tonight, because he really can’t wait to spend more time with him, when the omega’s smile vanishes from his face all in one go, like a switch that’s been turned off. Jeongguk’s brows furrow. He shivers under the coldness of the glare taking over Jimin’s soft brown eyes, and once the omega pulls further away from him, Jeongguk feels defeated.
Fuck. What did he do? What did he say? How did he fuck up so quickly? How much bad did he do to the universe in this life or in his previous one to get this reaction from none other than the love of his life, someone he’s almost completely sure is his true mate?
Jimin shakes some imaginary dust from his apron and gives him a tight-lipped smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He doesn’t insult him, at least not verbally, but Jeongguk can feel the weight of his contempt clearly, and without even needing to ask about it, knows this stance of his, this smile, is reserved for 1) telling people off, and 2) acting tough around difficult clients.
His voice is notoriously more subdued when he says, “I’m not new. I’m actually the assistant manager.’’ His voice sounds strained. Like he’s barely holding on to his politeness.
Shit. Shit. Did he just insult him? Calling him clumsy and inexperienced when he’s been working here for probably a long time?
Jeongguk thinks he’s going to keep that fake smile, but suddenly he seems to think better of it and his eyes light up with fire and the omega splutters, “I can’t… I can’t even believe you would—! You would—! God, I’ve been working here for three years, three years!’’ Jeongguk flinches, can’t stand how upset he made him, “worked my ass off to get this position, and you—’’ A pout takes over his lips and Jeongguk melts immediately.
His nerves are still frazzled and though he knows he’s offended—which is totally understandable—he’s mesmerized by him. Because damn, is he cute. He probably would shut down and not be able to function around him being so cute—or simply give him everything he asks of him—if he were to spend more time with him.
(He really, really hopes he gets to).
“You’re so cute,’’ Jeongguk blurts out, unable to stop himself. A lazy grin takes over his face.
It’s the wrong thing to say, of course. Jimin huffs, the tips of his ears becoming red.
Jeongguk doesn’t know what to do with himself, panicking once he realizes the omega’s gotten angry at his words. In his haste, he says, “Sorry, sorry if I offended you, I didn’t mean to. What about I help you clean up that and I invite you for dinner after your shift? Maybe somewhere else?’’ Yeah, somewhere else where they both can forget about all this chaos. He grins, throwing a sideways glance at the cupcake and the icing that’s sprawled on the floor. It had managed to land almost intact on the floor, but it was quite ugly even before, when it was intact. He sees a trash can some steps away from them, so he assumes—and isn’t that Jeongguk’s worst terrible mistake? God, someone please make him shut up and stop assuming shit—and says, “And hey, like I said, I needed to shower so no worries about the stain. And you needed to get rid of the cupcake anyways, no? Win-win situation. We get some dinner, and I try to make up for this.’’ A big grin spreads on his face.
The omega’s scent sours with annoyance. Someone get Jeongguk out of here and press a button to go back in time to 10 minutes ago so he can take it all back and meet the love of his life again without fucking up. He can’t take the disappointment any longer.
“Actually, no. I wasn’t going to throw it away. It’s the first batch of cupcakes I made today. I was making and decorating them all morning. I usually give clients that don’t buy food one of these, the small ones, as a treat for free.’’ His smile is strained. “But since it’s already on the floor and, as you said, ready to be thrown away, I’ll just skip giving you one if you were going to buy something that’s not food, eh? So, are you? Going to buy something?’’ Jimin raises his brows. “Anything?’’ he prompts as Jeongguk stays frozen in his place. “Or do we move on completely and we skip to the part where I reject your invite for dinner and you get out, and we forget this ever happened?’’
Something heavy drapes over his shoulders—he can’t believe he managed to fuck up this badly. Someone needs to put Jeongguk out of his misery. He feels something heavy in his throat—and he ends up nodding despite his need to run, because with all this embarrassment, embarrassing himself in front of the love of his life, acting like this and giving the worst first impression on Earth, plus not getting the water he wanted sounds like a nightmare.
At least let him catch his death hydrated.
“Yeah,’’ he clears his throat, “Well, I…’’ Upon seeing the arched brow directed his way, he croaks out, “I wanted some bottled water, please.’’
“How many?’’
“Hm. Three?’’
“Are you asking me?’’
“No?’’ he says, voice low.
Shit. He’s beyond salvation at this point.
Jimin huffs, “Alright.’’ He turns around and gets the water bottles from the fridge behind the counter. Jeongguk can’t help but look at this back with longing.
“And a cupcake…’’ he adds, warily, glancing down at the cupcakes behind the glass. Jimin’s shoulders stiffen. “They look delicious.’’
Jimin turns around, squints at him, then scoffs, probably certain that Jeongguk’s somehow messing with him.
“Which flavor?’’
Jeongguk licks his lips as he reads over the flavors. There’s only one that calls his attention. He’s unsure at first but once he notices Jimin’s irritated glare, he blurts out, “The one made with peaches, please.’’ His cheeks flame as he speaks, his voice low.
Jimin’s brows furrow. He presses his lips tightly, then picks one cupcake up and puts it in a basket, closes it with a little cute bow, and ties it neatly. Jeongguk can’t help but notice he still puts care into wrapping it up prettily even though Jeongguk’s put his foot in his mouth more times than he can count by now—he’s really careful and diligent with his job, Jeongguk can’t help but feel worse than before once he realizes he insulted his hard work without thinking.
Jimin offers him the box and the water with a strained smile on his face. God, Jeongguk doesn’t know how it all went so wrong, can’t comprehend the fact that his true mate is currently throwing him a strained, fake smile reserved for annoying customers and doesn’t seem to perceive him as the love of his life.
He can’t comprehend that he’s the only one who felt the pull, how his life seems like it’s irrevocably changed now that he knows his mate, and yet it seems incomprehensible how his mate, in turn, didn’t seem to feel the same pull—or didn’t show it.
Vaguely, he contemplates telling the omega about it, then decides against it once Jeongguk sees how he keeps staring daggers at him. Now, after he has his cupcake and the conversation he wants to tell the cashier, Jeongguk’s hesitant to leave, and then a few minutes later, hesitant upon looking at the mess around them.
Defeated, he goes to the door, and getting out of the shop is excruciating, as he still feels Jimin somehow fuming and Jeongguk still being stricken by the grief of what could’ve been between them.
When his day started, Jeongguk couldn’t have imagined finding his mate today of all days, much less fathom the hatred he received from him. Now, he has to deal with him, somehow.
It wasn’t like it was unfounded; Jeongguk could give him that, having somehow managed to offend him without having any ill intentions. Kind of managing to insult his mate in the first minutes of meeting him without realizing he was doing it wasn’t the best of impressions, but he had been nervous, and hadn’t known his words would offend him.
In his defense, Jeongguk hadn’t meant any harm. He had simply tried to flirt with the omega, make light of their already awkward situation. He was nervous, alright? Feeling an intense, instant attraction had wreaked havoc on him.
He’s been eager to meet the love of his life ever since he learned what a mate was. He’s never lost hope of finding his true mate, even though most wolves never meet theirs, and those that do usually do it when they present at 18.
After all, he’d always been a hopeless romantic—how could he not be? He lived in a world where wolves mated for life, where there were even some stories about finding one’s soulmate that gave some of the most romantic wolves hopes of finding their other half, and even an inkling of hope to some of the skeptics.
His parents had been in a marriage full of love and companionship to this day and he had always looked up to them when thinking about what healthy and reciprocated love was like. His pack back home had a lot of loving couples and the courting season was a beautiful time, and even a big festivity around there where wolves gathered together to celebrate new matings. Even when he ended up moving to the city, he was quickly surrounded by new friends who lived in healthy, loving relationships with their partners.
Love could be good. Love could be nice, passionate, and healthy. And the life and love around him had taught him love would find him when it was the moment for it.
Sometimes, when he was still a little pup, he’d even practice his words in front of a mirror, imagining situations where he met his mate, practicing for that magical moment.
So yeah, Jeongguk had been fairly confident about his reaction, about the timing, about how magical the whole situation would be—how everything would fall into place. He’d woo them and in no time, they’d be building a life together.
But the universe, he’s come to learn, works in mysterious, often funny, sometimes sardonic ways. The universe had not been about it at first—maybe not even at second.
When he first presented as an Alpha and thought, as the hopeless romantic he had always been, about the possibility of getting to meet his mate—his one and only—he never thought about his mate not liking him, let alone of them hating Jeongguk.
Jeongguk had been expecting his first week at his new job to be eventful and as chaotic as first weeks usually were. Really, he had been expecting anything, from aliens falling to earth to getting rude and obnoxious clients, anything but falling hopelessly in love at first sight and finding his mate.
It’s kind of ironic, to meet his mate, who smelled sweet like peaches, in a cafeteria of all places, after having come to terms with waiting for his mate and not pushing it. It was even more ironic—or maybe simply just sad—that he managed to royally fuck up the first meeting he had been longing for ever since he had been a pup in just a few minutes.
☾
Once he gets inside the parlor, he crumples down in a chair in the waiting room and sighs. He looks for Hoseok, who’s looking at him expectantly behind the counter. There’s something in his eyes that tells Jeongguk he might not be that clueless about what just transpired in the cafeteria.
“What’s wrong?’’ Hoseok asks, wary.
“I fell in love, hyung,’’ Jeongguk rubs his eyes. “I just met the love of my life.’’ He sighs, feeling the hopelessness of the situation coming back to bite him once again. “And he hates me. So much. I can’t figure out how to fix it, but I must. I feel like it’s him. I want to marry him and have a big family together. I just have to figure out how to… I have to…’’
Shit, how is he going to start courting someone that hates his guts, that he managed to insult in the first few seconds of meeting, someone that probably doesn’t even find him redeemable after being thought of as someone that makes fun of their hard work?
Hoseok frowns. “In love? Why do you sound so defeated? What the hell even happened in the past 30 minutes?’’
Jeongguk sighs. “I fell in love, hyung. And I’m like this because I fucked up. He hates me.’’
“Oh!’’ Hoseok perks up. “Jiminnie, right? Oh, that makes sense. I could see that coming.’’ Hoseok’s voice is rather nonchalant as he ticks something off from the paper in front of him. “You didn’t seem the type, though. But, understandable. Jimin’s effect.’’ He nods, as if what he’s just said is the most normal thing in the world, as if it’s that simple.
Jeongguk frowns. “What?’’ He straightens up in his chair. “You know Jimin-ssi?’’
Hoseok knows Jimin? The love of his life? Could this maybe work out in the end? Would Hoseok put in a good word for him or even a neutral word, that Jeongguk isn’t an asshole? Hell, Jeongguk’s desperate at this point.
“Oh, Jeonggukie, Jeonggukie…’’ Hoseok clicks his tongue. “Every artist before you… Didn’t you wonder why there was an open spot in such a sought-after parlor with this high pay, that has insurance on top of that?’’ He raises an eyebrow. “Who even gives insurance to tattoo artists on this day? It’s because no Alpha artist ever lasts more than two months here.’’
Jeongguk frowns. What does that have to do with his mate?
“Didn’t you ever wonder why?’’ Jeongguk shakes his head once Hoseok stops, realizing he’s waiting for an answer. Sighing, Hoseok continues, “Every instructor before you, every alpha that ever worked here, fell in love with Jimin… They either never got his number. Or they did and he never reciprocated their advances. They get heartbroken, and their alphas are too sad to continue working near him without touching him, so they end up leaving.’’
Jeongguk asks, “What did they do?’’ Maybe they were bothering Jimin too much. He hopes nobody treated his mate badly.
Hoseok clicks his tongue. “Nothing bad. They kept going to visit him, and Jimin never showed interest, or,’’ he searches for Jeongguk’s eyes, “he started dating someone else and brought them over to the cafe to keep the alpha artists away.’’ Then, Hoseok asks, “What did you do to make you believe you don’t have any chance with him?’’
“I may or may not have, well…’’ Jeongguk resists the urge to grimace as he speaks, realization dawning on him. He scratches the back of his head. “Insulted him, called him clumsy. Said his cooking looked horrible, that it probably tasted terrible too. Shit,’’ he says it all in one breath. He squeezes his eyes shut. “I’m done, I’m done. I’m over. It’s over. I just met and lost the love of my life all in one go.’’
Hoseok deadpans, “Yeah, you’d better forget about him.’’ He gives him a pitying look. “It’s for your own good, kid. Maybe you should just forget about him… Less painful that way.’’
“I can’t!’’ Jeongguk whimpers. Defeat surrounds him. “I love him, hyung. He smells so perfect to me. I think he’s my...’’ Jeongguk gulps, then takes a deep breath to keep talking, “don’t tell this to anyone. I think he’s my true mate…’’ Jeongguk tries his best to convey the seriousness of the situation in his tone.
Hoseok’s eyes widen. “Oh.’’ His eyes widen even more. He leans forward. “ Oh. Oh!’’
“Yeah, oh.’’
There’s pity in Hoseok’s eyes as he looks at him, and even some disbelief; Jeongguk’s not sure if Hoseok even believes Jeongguk that Jimin is his mate.
But Jeongguk just cares about finding a way to win over Jimin. “Can you help me? Please?’’ He presses his lips tightly.
“If it were anyone else, yeah. But it’s Jimin.” Hoseok grimaces. “With him, I can only wish you luck.’’
Jeongguk nods and stands up. He walks towards his studio, realizing his break’s almost over. He guesses he’s only got himself to rely on. Despair fills him. Then a memory of Jimin’s scent hits him out of nowhere, coming from the package of the cupcake he has in his hand, and he resolves to try with all his might.
That’s what he tells himself before gets inside his little studio to attend to the rest of the clients he has scheduled for the day and even some walk-ins, that’s what he tells himself, and then he promptly spends every little minute he has of breaks sketching the softness of Jimin’s eyes and the crinkle of his eyes that he can remember from that little moment of interaction before he ran his mouth and things went downhill.
The sketch, as it turns more vivid, gives him some comfort, and that’s what he clings to as the day goes by. Through the day, he resolves to try to get in Jimin’s good graces tomorrow, and if that doesn’t work, to try the day after, however long it takes to try to turn that bad impression over its head.
He just met the love of his life. He won’t go down without a fight. He won’t let him go without even trying first—even though their first interaction wasn’t anything near ideal.
Jeongguk’s nothing if not determined. And in the face of winning over the love of his life, of getting to spend a lifetime with him, compared to the possibility of never getting to see him again, of feeling him close, nothing could ever stop him, especially not something as little as a first bad impression.