Chapter Text
When the 7-Eleven cashier looks up with his brows wrinkled as the sliding glass door opens with a little chime, Beomgyu doesn’t even have the energy to be offended. He doesn’t blame the guy: he would be judging, too, if he wasn’t expecting to see a soul during his graveyard shift and was suddenly met with two obviously stressed college students showing up in their pajamas at just past 3 AM.
Beomgyu’s about four hours into an all-nighter to prepare for the end of the semester, and with finals week looming just around the corner, he needs to cram all of his missing assignments now if he wants a chance at passing. All those late nights of procrastinating via League of Legends was coming back to bite him in the ass now, Beomgyu despairs. At least he hit the Masters rank eventually.
When Yeonjun had walked into his bedroom in their shared apartment halfway through his own all-nighter, well, that had just sealed his fate. It’s how Beomgyu finds himself squinting against the harsh fluorescent light from overhead as he examines the impressive selection of energy drinks housed in this aisle of the store, because a certain roommate of his had claimed that he wouldn’t be able to get anything done without caffeine.
(In hindsight, Yeonjun is probably right, but that doesn’t mean Beomgyu is happy about it. He’d much rather be at home in his own bedroom than here, standing in this convenience store with a fluffy blanket draped around his shoulders to cling to that fleeting warmth.)
Beomgyu sighs. All the colorful cans are starting to hurt his eyes, exhausted from too many hours spent staring at his computer. He blinks it off and turns away. Everything here is sold in packs of six, and no matter how tired Beomgyu is, he knows that that’s a terrible freedom to allow himself. Instead, he starts to pad back towards the front of the store, where there’s small fridges next to checkout that will hopefully have single cans, or iced coffees, or something. He’s not really sure anymore.
Yeonjun has disappeared, predictably, after insisting that they haul ass out of their apartment in order to prepare for the long night to come. It isn’t like the store is very big, so Beomgyu’s sleep-deprived brain is just conscious enough to move that to the back of his mind while he approaches the cashier.
The boy working looks up again, and seeing Beomgyu’s obvious lack of attention, goes back to reading whatever he’s got lying on the desk. His hair is just long enough that the fringe covers his eyes and casts a little shadow along his face, and he doesn’t even spare more than a glance when Beomgyu’s blanket slips off his shoulder a little and he trips on it as he’s walking.
Cool, mysterious, and he doesn’t bat an eye at Beomgyu embarrassing himself? It’s kind of hot, his brain supplies, because that’s the only thing it knows how to do when he’s been working on essays about music theory for the past two days.
He pushes all of that away. He’s on a quest for caffeine, and the varying different flavors of Starbucks iced frappuccinos stare back at him. Yeonjun loves them, especially because they come in those cute little reusable glass bottles and their apartment is severely lacking in the kitchenware department. It's a two-for-one deal, he insists, and Beomgyu is inclined to agree.
Before he can begin to think about choosing, there’s a voice from somewhere across the store. Speak of the devil.
“Beoms!” Yeonjun calls. It echoes down the aisle, from somewhere close by. “Do you want chips?”
Chips are good, Beomgyu thinks. They’re really running out of snack foods now that Yeonjun is all about his eating-healthy and cooking-at-home thing. It’s good when he’s, well, at home, but there comes times during the week when Beomgyu decides to skip all his classes in a day and consequently is forced to eat cold leftovers because they have nothing easy to grab, the microwave hasn’t worked since last month, and he’s too lazy to heat something up on the stove.
He really should learn some life skills before he moves out, but for now, he’s too otherwise occupied to even bother trying to relinquish any of his codependency on Yeonjun.
Beomgyu realizes he’s been thinking for way too long and blurts out “Yeah” very eloquently in answer. It comes out a lot quieter than he’d intended, a consequence of being too absorbed in his own head sometimes.
“What?” Yeonjun yells again, and he sounds further away now, like he’s moved down in his aisle.
And Beomgyu has reached the stage of tiredness where everything is a little funny, he’s not quite thinking straight, and he has little to no filter from what thoughts pop up in his head to the words that come out of his mouth. So, instead of responding like a normal person, he ends up shouting:
“I said I’m a slut for Doritos, hyung, you should get the party size.”
A few feet to his side, the convenience store cashier barks out a laugh. Beomgyu whips his head up and stares. The boy turns away and does his best to smother it with a cough, but the damage is already done.
At this point, Beomgyu is far too tired to be embarrassed about anything, and he sees an opportunity, so he grabs the first coffee he can get his hands on and waltzes up to the checkout counter.
“Hey,” he says smoothly, sliding the drink onto the surface with what he hopes is an attractive half-smile and not a crazed grimace.
“Hi, how are you?” the boy working says in his most composed customer service voice, having schooled his expression back to neutrality. Beomgyu internally scowls. That’s no way to talk to a guy when your first interaction was him shouting about his promiscuity over a bag of chips.
7-Eleven boy seems to see it on his face, though. It may very well be out of pity, but Beomgyu bounces right back when he asks, “What brings you here at this hour?”
“Maybe I’m here to see you,” he says. He pairs it with his best dreamy gaze, complete with a flutter of his eyelashes for good measure. The cashier just snorts, to Beomgyu’s great dismay. “Sorry, I’m tired,” he apologizes, like an idiot, because if there’s one thing he’s good at it’s humiliating himself in front of attractive strangers.
Luckily, said handsome stranger just quirks up his lip as he scans Beomgyu’s bottle of coffee. “I can tell.”
“I have finals coming up,” Beomgyu blurts out. “I need caffeine for this all-nighter because I have to get all my work in by tomorrow. The semester ends in, like, a week.” What is he even saying? This poor boy probably has hours left of his shift and here comes Beomgyu, strutting in to spill all the boring details of his sad, college life. This is what happens when Yeonjun leaves him alone.
“I know,” is all the cashier says. It takes Beomgyu a second to remember what he had said initially, but when he does, he can’t help but spit out another absolutely phenomenal line.
“You read my mind? Wow, maybe we’re soulmates." Beomgyu winks as he pulls out his wallet and debit card.
“No, I go to school here, too,” the boy responds evenly, not even missing a beat at all the bad pickup lines. It's kind of impressive. He's either really good at playing hard-to-get, or Beomgyu is vastly overestimating his own charm.
“Oh, really? Why are you working the night shift, then?” Beomgyu frowns.
The cashier shrugs. “I have good time management skills.” He hesitates for a moment, the only sound between them of the register printing Beomgyu’s receipt. Then, before Beomgyu can continue the conversation, he tacks on that same little ghost of a smile, eyes twinkling as he adds: “Maybe I was waiting for someone like you to show up.”
Beomgyu lets out a little exhale in surprise as his already-tired mind malfunctions, running just a little too slow to process the words before there’s footsteps from behind him and Yeonjun appears, dumping a ridiculously large bag of Doritos on the counter alongside two Monster energy drinks. Beomgyu snatches his coffee out of the way and steps to the side as the cashier immediately turns back to his job, punching in numbers and accepting Yeonjun’s exact change with a cute little smile.
“Thank you!” Yeonjun says, bowing his head as he collects the bag of snacks and turns around. “Alright, BG, our field trip is over. Your paper isn’t going to write itself,” he says with a resigned grimace, probably thinking about his own heaps of studying that awaits when they return to their apartment. He starts walking towards the exit, but when Beomgyu moves to follow, there’s a voice from behind him.
“Wait, excuse me! You forgot your receipt!”
Beomgyu pauses. He turns, ignoring how Yeonjun disappears from his peripheral vision, and takes a few strides to close the distance between him and the checkout counter, making eye contact with the worker one more time. He’s just a little bit shorter than Beomgyu, who has to look just slightly down towards his face to catch the expression that crosses it. It’s shy, like he’d been debating even calling out for Beomgyu again, but there’s nothing shy about the way he purposefully brushes their fingers together when he hands over the slip of paper.
“I’ll see you around?” He says. His voice lilts up hopefully toward the end, and wow, Beomgyu is so whipped.
“Yeah,” is all he musters up, softly. Then Yeonjun calls out for him again and he turns, waving a little over his shoulder. The sliding glass door chimes again as he exits, following Yeonjun into the cold nighttime air.
Beomgyu shivers and tugs his fuzzy blanket closer around his shoulders. In doing so, the receipt in his hand crinkles, and something catches his eye.
THANKS FOR SHOPPING!
Store #: 0304
Cashier: Taehyun
Beside the name, in thick black Sharpie, the boy has drawn a little smiley face and a heart.