Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The first time Wonwoo walks past the grocery store, he wonders how family-owned, hole-in-the-wall stores like this still exist in modern times. It is tucked in an alleyway quite far from any big streets. No flashy signs, barely any signs at all actually, only a little fruit display and a glass door that has a green sticker with the word “open” facing the street. There is no one inside but the cashier.

Wonwoo assumes that the only customers this place has are grandparents who can’t grow alongside time anymore. The store must be either closer to their houses than any other, or they have a sentimental habit of returning here to shop. But when everything is made to be bigger, flashier, coaxing you to spend more money, what does sentiment even amount to?

The second time Wonwoo passes by the grocery store, he realizes that he got it a bit wrong. It’s not only the elderly who are the customers here, but college students too. They must be either too broke or too uncaring to go find a better place to shop. Unlike the grandparents who are here almost at dawn, the students come at all times of the day, some even minutes before closing time.

The third time Wonwoo sees the grocery store, he’s hidden behind a corner in one of the numerous alleyways surrounding the place. He sees the store has more employees than the ever-present cashier, part-timers most likely. They aren’t always around, especially during closing hours. A tiny store like this probably can’t afford them for any overtime. How it can afford anything is a mystery, but Wonwoo asks around a bit, and he learns that it’s been around for a long time. Longer than he’s been alive.

The fourth time Wonwoo comes, it’s after he got denied a meal at the shelter, on the basis that he’s low priority. He’s young and healthy they said, there are people who need it more than him they said. So Wonwoo takes his bitterness and his grumbling stomach and he comes here to seethe. There are barely any lampposts on this street. The grocery store is the brightest thing around here, warm white light spilling from glass walls.

Glass is breakable, Wonwoo thinks. He fidgets on his spot, trying to talk himself out of it. He’s been through worse, a night on an empty stomach won’t make a difference. It’s spring, so it’s not even that cold outside. He promised once… he told himself he wouldn’t turn to crime, no matter what low he hit. No drugs, no alcohol, and no police record.

He digs around his pocket for a cigarette. It’s crumpled and messy when he puts it between his lips, and it takes two matches to properly light it up because of the humidity. He tosses the burnt matches on the ground and stares at the grocery store, at its lone occupant and its outdated cash machine. He takes a deep drag off of his cigarette.

He once said no smoking too, he remembers.

Does a place like this even have an alarm system? Are there cameras outside, like there are on every major store nowadays? Wonwoo doubts it. He stays put until his cheap wristwatch tells him that it’s 8PM, by which time the store starts closing down. Wonwoo stares and memorizes everything, the routine of taking the fruit display inside, of mopping and tidying up the place for tomorrow. It’s the cashier who does everything, the one who’s always around. He’s the one who turns off the lights and locks the door behind him. He has a car parked nearby, and he leaves without the faintest idea that he’s being watched.

The fifth time Wonwoo comes, he’s made up his mind. He ignores the part inside him that’s telling him this is a bad idea. If he had the luxury of feeling guilty, he wouldn’t be here anyway. This is going to help him, and the police won’t even bother to conduct proper investigation. They have bigger fish to catch. Nobody will care about a family-owned, hole-in-the-wall grocery store.

He is wearing a full facemask and gloves, and he even has a lockpick one of his acquaintances supplied him with. It’s tucked away at his pocket along with a knife and a black plastic bag, those used to throw trash away. His heart is beating loudly in his chest, but it’s easy to ignore it. He’s tired. He can’t keep living like this. It’s either this or insanity, and Wonwoo would rather die a criminal than be like the poor old men he sees groveling on the pavement. 

His clock tells him that it’s 9PM, a little later than usual, but the cashier likes to take his time sometimes. Wonwoo waits patiently, even though his leg is bouncing. He only has one chance and he won’t fuck it up because of nerves.

Half an hour later, the lights finally turn off. The glass door opens and the man steps out. He looks sluggish, exhausted, and Wonwoo reasons this must be why he’s late. Everything’s fine. The man is about to go to his car, surely eager to head home after an admittedly cruel shift, and then-

The man lets out a shaky breath and drops down on the stairs outside of the store. He sits with his shoulders hunched, burying his face in his palms like the weight of the world has been dropped on his shoulders. Wonwoo’s eyes bulge. What the fuck?

What the fuck?

He stands frozen on his alleyway, with his full facemask and gloves and robbing equipment, as this dude starts sobbing right in the middle of the street.

Of all days for something like this to happen. Wonwoo chose and staked this place out for a reason, to avoid these types of unexpected situations. He takes a deep, calming breath. It’s fine, he tells himself, retail employees have breakdowns like this all the time. It’s practically in the job resumé, right next to the requirement of being able to collect themselves fast and get over it. Whatever this is, it can’t be that important. Boohoo grocery store employee, at least you have a job.

Somehow, this guy over there doesn’t get the memo that he should hurry the fuck up. Wonwoo waits and waits for the crying to subside, but it doesn’t look like it is going to. He taps his foot to the ground, his anxiety climbing to higher and higher levels the longer he stays hidden. He had expected a lot of things to go wrong on his first half-willing venture to serious crime, but definitely nothing like this.

The man doesn’t bother hiding his tears. He eventually leans back, against the glass door Wonwoo should have broken by now, and he stares at the sky. His eyebrows are pinched upwards in the middle, eyes shiny and empty.

Wonwoo clenches his teeth at the familiar expression. Why… why does someone like this man feel hopeless? He has a job, a car, presumably a home, all things Wonwoo hasn’t had in years. How can he be expressing an emotion Wonwoo knows so intimately, when he has none of the experience behind it?

Wonwoo glances around him at the empty roads, not a soul in viewing distance. It’s exactly why this grocery store is such a prime location for a break-in. That’s why Wonwoo picked it, that’s why he’s here. To break in. Because he’s hopeless too.

So he waits. He slumps against the wall, telling himself that he’ll get to it once the man leaves. If he leaves. A part of him though has already resigned on the robbery for tonight. There are too many things going wrong. If he was more experienced, perhaps he could quell his panic and give it a serious try. As it is, he can’t stray too far from the initial plan, the one he has been repeating in his head the entire day. Maybe he’ll try again tomorrow. Maybe for once, luck will smile down on him and let him have one thing.

But he still waits.

And it is a little comforting, maybe, to know that he’s not suffering alone. His life is probably way worse than that guy’s, but he’s handling it better. Sure, he is about to become a criminal, but no one will catch him crying about it. He has accepted that he just isn’t good enough for anything else in this life.

It’s silent enough in this quiet neighborhood that when the man decides to utter some words, Wonwoo is unfortunate enough to hear.

“I’m sorry…” he says to the stars, to god, to an imaginary person, Wonwoo can’t tell. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this. I’m not good enough, I’ll never be good enough…”

It’s weird hearing his own thoughts spoken in a voice that doesn’t belong to him, in a pained sob Wonwoo himself isn’t capable of producing. He scoffs. Humans are such simple beings. They all experience the same damn emotions. This one though, he doesn’t live in the same world of hopelessness Wonwoo does. Unlike him, this one has a future, even if it isn’t the brightest one. Does he have nobody to tell him so?

Wonwoo looks behind him, and then ahead. It’s been a while. Nobody is coming for this man. He hasn’t attempted to call anyone, and nobody has called. Wonwoo forcefully exhales.

It’s not like he has anyone waiting for him either.

He pushes his body away from the wall. He stands still for a moment, looking at his gloved hands. If he shows his face, he won’t be able to return tomorrow. It will be too dangerous, he might get recognized. Five days of careful planning are going to go to waste.

Wonwoo sighs again and takes his mask off. Fuck this, and fuck this man for ruining his night.

All it takes is three steps to walk into the other’s field of sight. He instantly looks at Wonwoo, immediately trying to compose himself now that he knows he has an audience. Wonwoo closes the distance between them slowly, pretending that he’s just taking a casual walk.

The moment he comes close, he is instantly hit by a prominent scent. Alpha. Alpha? He definitely doesn’t look it right now. Wonwoo momentarily pauses, reassessing his plan. Things are trickier with alphas, but this one looks especially pathetic. He’s a bit bulkier than Wonwoo, but Wonwoo’s taken down rougher ones. He thumbs at the knife in his pocket, willing the instant aversion to subside. The man can’t possibly be perceived as danger in this state.

Wonwoo walks right in front of him, and he doesn’t spare him a glance as he comes to sit next to him. He rests his back on the glass door as well, legs thrown at the stairs below him. He casually crosses his hands on his lap, uncaring of the other’s flinch.

“I-I’m sorry, I probably-” the man tries to say, but Wonwoo shoots him a look.

He is furiously wiping away tears that refuse to stop falling, now tense from Wonwoo’s sudden presence. Maybe he thinks he’s a criminal. Wouldn’t be that far from the truth.

“What happened?” Wonwoo asks him. You looked fine all the other days, he adds in his head, even though he doesn’t say it. He tries not to sound snappy.  He doesn’t need to give any more reason for the other to fear him.

The man blinks, taken aback by the question. Wonwoo averts his eyes. This is stupid. He probably looks too scary for this goody-two-shoes to even consider talking to.

“I just, I just heard you crying…” Wonwoo mutters, looking at a particularly interesting piece of gum stuck on the pavement in front of them. “What could possibly be so wrong that you couldn’t wait to get home?”

A stray sob finds its way past the other’s pressed lips, not able to be stopped in time. Wonwoo doesn’t have to say anything else for the downpour to start again, for the crying to begin anew. Wonwoo steals a glance, finding the man hunched in on himself once more. It’s a bizarre sight to see such a large man trying to curl into a ball.

“What’s your name?” Wonwoo asks, a little softer this time.

“M-Mingyu,” comes a strangled reply.

“Would your boss be okay to see you breaking down in front of their store, Mingyu?”

A wet chuckle comes as a reply, somehow sounding even more miserable than the sobs.

“I own this store. I’m my boss.”

Wonwoo blinks. Now that’s some crazy information. The cashier who has been here every day, slaving away from morning to dusk, is the actual owner of this tiny store? Wonwoo almost laughs too, imagining himself telling this guy that he was about to rob his store for all its worth.

“Well then,” Wonwoo replies awkwardly. “Why is the owner of a store crying outside of it in the middle of the night?”

“Because I can’t do this.” Desperation leaks out of the other’s voice. “I’ve been doing this all my life, for my sister, for my parents. But I can’t, I can’t…”

He looks burdened, that’s for sure. He also looks young, maybe even younger than Wonwoo himself, so perhaps that has something to do with this.

“Where is your family?” Wonwoo asks. Because if the other has a family, what the hell is he doing here, offering counsel to a stranger?

Mingyu’s face falls even more, if such a thing is possible. Fresh tears spring to his eyes. Wonwoo can recognize a sore spot when he sees one.

“They should have been here. My parents. They left me too soon, they…” Mingyu sniffs. “I can’t do this alone. They should have been here.”

“They don’t want to come?”

“They died.”

Ah. Maybe Wonwoo should stop prodding. He internally rolls his eyes at himself, for being so nosy. He should have left the man alone. What did he even expect, he has always been the poorest at social interactions. This guy though doesn’t look deterred at all. His words are like his tears, Wonwoo finds out. Once the dam’s broken, there’s no stopping them.

“And I have my little sister. I’m her legal guardian now, I’ve been since I was 18. She’s at college now, and I really couldn’t be prouder, really. The expenses though, they have gotten worse, and I don’t know what to do. I can barely run this store on the good days. I don’t know if I can keep going like this, I’m so out of my depth all the time. And I do stupid stuff. I mean look at me, babbling at a stranger, I’m sure you have much better things to do, um… sorry, I didn’t ask your name.”

“Wonwoo.”

Mingyu gulps. “Wonwoo.”

They stay in silence for a bit, as Mingyu attempts to wipe his tears away yet again. He is distressed, and even if Wonwoo couldn’t see it, he can smell it. Mingyu’s not bothering to moderate his scent, control it in any way. He probably can’t, projecting how uncomfortable he is all around him. It’s a little pitiful.

“I mean,” Wonwoo starts. “There could be worse places to have a breakdown than right outside the store you own.”

Mingyu’s head lowers. “I suppose,” he says, but none of the burden lifts.

“Why, um,” Wonwoo tries to think of anything to say. Perhaps it’s in response to the distress that he finds himself wanting to help. “Why don’t you call your sister? If you’re close…”

Mingyu is still wearing his uniform apron. It’s a plain white thing, with two pockets on each side. Mingyu starts playing nervously with it, smoothing out all the creases.

“My sister is happy where she is,” he says. “I never want to take that away from her. She means the world to me.”

There is a heavy, loud but at the end of that sentence. Even without his will, an image starts painting itself in front of Wonwoo. An image of a teenage boy having to play father to his sister, sacrificing so much of his own life for her. And now that said sister is gone, the boy is made to look at all those sacrifices head on and realize how empty his life is.

Or maybe Wonwoo’s gotten way too good at making up stories. This isn’t a drama, he reminds himself, this is life. Learning all this deeply personal stuff about a random person was not how he planned this night. He should have been running away now, with a trash bag full of money and what little food he could carry for the next few days. Yet here he is, decidedly not doing that.

Here he is, feeling quite loose-tongued himself.

“My parents are gone too,” he offers, just another fact that they can both vaguely relate to.

“I’m sorry,” Mingyu mutters. He dares steal a little glance at Wonwoo then, before quickly looking to the ground. “Were you young too?”

“Fourteen,” Wonwoo replies. Mingyu winces.

He doesn’t tell Mingyu that it didn’t matter much. That it was only a matter of time anyway, that he was never meant to have a future.

“It must have been worse since you were underage,” Mingyu comments. “Have you gotten involved with social workers?”

Wonwoo shakes his head. “I ran away.”

Thankfully, Mingyu accepts it as it is. He doesn’t question Wonwoo, so Wonwoo is spared from having to question himself too on the decision that started everything. The beginning of the downfall. He doesn’t want to think about it now. It’s too late for regrets.

Why the hell is he even having this conversation? In the middle of the night? Outside a grocery store he was about to rob? With said store’s owner?

“Are you still running away?” Mingyu asks quietly, almost a whisper.

Wonwoo’s fist clenches on the knife again, in the pocket of his torn coat. Worn over a dirty shirt, and pants two sizes smaller on him. Admittedly, it’s the politest way anyone has ever asked him if he’s homeless. Most don’t even bother, his unkept appearance, the dirt smudges on his skin, oh, Wonwoo knows how he looks like.

He doesn’t reply and Mingyu has the decency not to press it. The tears have slowed down, so if anything, Wonwoo has been successful in distracting him. Despite the absurdity of the situation, Wonwoo feels a small sense of accomplishment. He’d have loved to be a kind person, in a different life.

He lets out a small sigh and reaches to his back pocket. He takes out two crumpled cigarettes and in a move of miserable camaraderie, he offers one to the other.

“Here,” he says. “Looks like we both need it.”

“I, uh,” Mingyu blinks rapidly at the offered cigarette. “I don’t smoke.”

Of course not. How stupid of Wonwoo, to think that he could have a moment of companionship with anyone. Much less with a whole store owner. They don’t belong in the same world, it was dumb to even try. He moves to take his hand back, ashamed now.

“But I’ll take one!” Mingyu extends his hand quickly, as if he wants to grab his wrist to stop him. He must think better than touching him though, because his hand remains awkwardly hovering over Wonwoo’s. “I’ll take one if you stay here for a bit longer.”

Wonwoo arches an eyebrow. Mingyu looks away, not daring to look him in the eyes yet. And now who’s the ashamed one, huh? Who’s the one making the dumb offers? Wonwoo exhales in amusement and hands Mingyu the damn cigarette. He unpockets his match box and makes quick work of his own light before he tosses it over to Mingyu. He watches, still amused, how Mingyu struggles to light his smoke, and then how he somehow doesn’t choke on his first inhale. Not so inexperienced, then.

Maybe… maybe it’s alright. Maybe for one night, they can share a moment. If it’s only for a few hours, hopefully the universe won’t laugh at them. Tomorrow, Mingyu will go back to standing behind a counter for twelve hours and Wonwoo can go find a different store to rob.

“I wanted to tell you,” Wonwoo begins. “That you’ll be okay. That’s why I came over in the first place. I only saw you from afar, but I could see how your situation isn’t hopeless. You don’t have to be…”

Like me. He doesn’t say it out loud, but he’s pretty sure the other catches on. Mingyu stretches his shoulders back, stiff from how hunched he was all this time, and he takes another drag.

“You really think so?” he asks.

“I mean,” Wonwoo shrugs, “I don’t know how much my opinion counts. But yeah, I think so.”

Mingyu swallows. He takes deep calming breaths, interrupted only by bringing his cigarette to his lips every now and then. Maybe he doesn’t usually smoke, but it looks like it’s helping. It’s at least giving his hands something to do. As the moments pass, he looks more and more composed, the overbearing scent defusing around him. In the end, he manages to meet Wonwoo’s eyes and hold his gaze.

“It counts,” he says, with all the seriousness in the world.

It’s Wonwoo’s turn to avert his eyes. He blows out smoke, pretending that he’s not pleased to hear that. He’s not. It doesn’t matter what a random guy thinks. He knows better than to believe his word will ever matter.

“And, um…” Mingyu rubs the back of his neck. “Thank you for deciding to walk up. Talk to me. No one’s ever done that before.”

“Do you often burst out crying in the middle of the street?” Wonwoo asks. And how have I not noticed?

A little chuckle leaves the other’s lips then, wet and gloomy, but still a chuckle. “I guess. It’s pathetic, isn’t it?”

Wonwoo shrugs. He’s not one to speak on patheticness.

“It is pretty pathetic,” Mingyu continues. “And dumb. Why do I even bother complaining, nothing’s going to change. Actually…”

He stumps his cigarette and reaches in his bag, digging around for something. The telltale sound of keys jingling reaches Wonwoo’s ears.    

“Nothing is going to change if I don’t change it,” Mingyu says, decisive all of a sudden. “Wanna have a drink with me? Get over this dumb mood?”

“A drink? Here?” Wonwoo asks.

“I can bring out a couple of beers, a few snacks,” Mingyu offers. “A grown-up picnic.”

Wonwoo huffs. A picnic in the dark, with smokes, alcohol and only the cold hard pavement to sit on. Absolute bottom of the world. The deepest wells will have nothing on them. Wonwoo takes a while to consider if he actually wants to do this with a stranger, if this finally crosses the line of too-absurd. Mingyu must take his silence as a refusal though, because his shoulders slump a little again.

“You don’t have to, of course,” he says, decisiveness leaving as quickly as it came. “I’m sorry, you probably don’t even want to be here.”

Such a fragile thing, a heart. Right after a breakdown, Mingyu’s wearing his on his sleeve, and it’s so easy to see how everything is affecting him. Wonwoo has trouble reminding himself that he’s an alpha, that this proposal could have easily been a demand. If it was, Wonwoo would have been out of here ten minutes ago. As it is…

“I can’t pay you for anything,” he says, just in case it wasn’t obvious.

The smile instantly returns on Mingyu’s face. “It’s fine. I conveniently happen to own a grocery store.”

“Alright then,” Wonwoo agrees. His stomach is still grumbling, he shouldn’t be passing up on free snacks anyway. Maybe being kind pays off here and there. “I’ll wait here.”

Mingyu’s up in a heartbeat. He fumbles with his keys until the door is unlocked, and he dashes inside. Like Wonwoo had predicted, there are no alarms to disable. The lights briefly flicker on, all manual and easy to manipulate. This robbery would have been so damn easy, Wonwoo kinda curses himself for blowing it so hard.

Whatever. At least he’s getting food out of it, he supposes. Not a complete waste of time.

Mingyu returns with an armful of stuff that he shouldn’t have been physically capable of carrying all at once. There is a six-pack of beer cans as promised, but also two water bottles and like ten packs of chips and candy. Mingyu almost slips as he comes down the two stairs to sit next to him, but he is very careful as he lays everything down. Wonwoo helps him take the beer cans out of their packaging, taking one for himself. So much for the no alcohol rule.

Once Mingyu’s settled, he takes two plastic-wrapped sandwiches out of his back pocket and tosses Wonwoo one. It is a little squished, but Wonwoo’s mouth waters at the sight of proper food. This along with the chips and candy will make for a street meal akin to royalty.

“Thank you,” he tells Mingyu, trying not to be too obvious in his hurry to unwrap it.

“Thank you for agreeing to this,” Mingyu waves him off.

Wonwoo gives him a little smile then, somehow genuine. He has no idea how this clusterfuck of a night has managed to pull a smile out of him. Maybe it’s the food. It’s probably the food.

“We should make a toast,” Mingyu says, opening his beer one-handed, while popping a chip in his mouth with the other.

“A toast to what?” Wonwoo asks.

“I don’t know. Not being miserable?” Mingyu suggests.

“In this life? That’s a tough one, stranger,” Wonwoo says but lifts his can up anyway. “But you go be happy after this,” he clinks their drinks together.

There is something sad in the way Mingyu looks at him as Wonwoo takes his first gulp. Not in the same desperate manner of before, this annoying sense of wrongness. Life is going to move on for him, he knows. But for Wonwoo? This is as good as it gets.

“If you could choose any place to be right now,” Mingyu tells him. “Anywhere, out of the whole world. Where would you go?”

That’s a tough question. Wonwoo takes a sip of his beer and leans his head back. Mingyu has left some lights on inside so it’s not ass oppressively dark as it was before. Still, with buildings towering around them, not even Wonwoo’s imagination is free to escape this wretched existence. He doesn’t have it in him to imagine a good place for himself, only for reality to crash him later.

“I’d go somewhere warm,” is all he ends up saying.

“Warm?” Mingyu asks.

“Somewhere… I don’t know,” Wonwoo huffs. “Somewhere to be comfortable.”

He opens a candy packet then, a cherry one. He brings one to his mouth and chews it carefully, letting the sweetness wash away whatever bitterness was starting to crawl inside him. Mingyu said this picnic was to fix their mood. There’s no point souring it with things he can’t change.

“What about you?” he asks, eager to throw the ball on the other’s court.

“I… well,” Mingyu begins, smiling at the ground at his own thoughts. “I had lots of places I wanted to visit. I had this dream of going to a university and organizing a trip to Italy with the friends I made there. I still think about it sometimes.”

Wonwoo notices the past tense, put on this sparkling dream like a seal over a dusty box.

“Did you ever go to a university?” Wonwoo asks.

“Briefly. For like, two months,” Mingyu answers. “I had to drop out when… yeah…”

This conversation is a minefield. One wrong move, and Wonwoo knows the other will be back to tears. After everything, he finds the thought displeasing.

“What did you go for?” he asks.

“Architecture!” Mingyu replies, and wow, this dude must be smart. Is this why this grocery store still hasn’t closed down, when every other small business around here has?

“But you know, I don’t hate it here either,” Mingyu adds, his smile diminishing but not quite leaving his face.

Wonwoo gives him a look. He thought they were being honest here. He’s been honest, at least. Quite embarrassingly so.

“I know it doesn’t look like it,” Mingyu responds to his doubting look, “but I loved growing up here. The store was my parents’ pride. Don’t look at how it is right now, it used to thrive so much more under their care.”

Wonwoo believes him. Twenty, thirty years ago, these type of groceries stores were marketed as the ideal, a loving family taking care of your products. And then the ideal completely changed, with big malls and faceless, powerful companies taking over.

“You can’t completely blame yourself for the decline,” Wonwoo tells him. “Times are different.”

“Yeah, well,” Mingyu takes a few gulps of his beer. “I shouldn’t be making excuses.”

“Should you be bearing all the burden by yourself then?”

Mingyu opens his mouth to reply, and then closes it again. He sends Wonwoo a weary look, as if not liking this train of thought. As if avoiding it would make it disappear. Really, Wonwoo needs to stop looking at this guy and finding pieces of himself in him.

“Does it look like that?” Mingyu asks, a little more hesitantly. “Like I’m burdening myself too much?”

“I found you crying on your front door,” Wonwoo tells him. “And now we’re having the most miserable picnic on the floor right outside it.”

“Hey,” Mingyu smiles at him, a little painfully, a little jokingly. “Don’t call our picnic miserable.”

Wonwoo decides to indulge the attempt at lightheartedness. How long has it been since he joked around with anyone, anyway?

“What should I call it then?” he asks, crossing his legs and taking another sip of his drink.

“Life-altering. Enlightening. Philosophical, even,” Mingyu offers, and Wonwoo laughs.

Look at these two philosophers, one in rags, the other in an apron. They are the epitome of the human life, the seemingly unfortunate and fortunate side, respectively. A homeless guy and a store owner sitting at some stairs, that’s the beginning of a bad anecdote.

But, somehow, Wonwoo doesn’t feel as disconnected as he expected to. He understands what Mingyu is saying, he can sympathize with his emotions, even if they stem from completely different places. It’s bizarre, how communication comes easily under such circumstances.

Something sweet catches Wonwoo’s nose, a scent that was previously sour and stressed now mellowing out, right after hearing his laughter. Huh. Wonwoo had no idea alphas could smell sweet. It’s always spicy or earthy and icy, a reflection of a superiority complex always lying somewhere inside. Sometimes it’s dormant, but the alphas Wonwoo encounters are usually the worst kind.

“It’s going to be rich coming from me, I know,” Mingyu says. “But sometimes, I wish I wasn’t stuck here. I can’t help but wonder if this is all there is for me in this life.”

He takes a small breath after the sentence is out of him, like he just sprinted on a field. It makes Wonwoo wonder if he’s ever dared say these words out loud before.

“Wishes unfortunately don’t change reality,” Wonwoo replies. Mingyu nods.

He’s more than aware of hardship, Wonwoo figures out. Not really in the same way Wonwoo is, he probably doesn’t have to beg a shelter every night for a meal and a bed. But having such responsibilities, having someone’s well-being counting on you, enduring a life that should have never been your own… It’s urgency overwriting everything that makes you who you are, and that feeling is the same for both of them.

“You can change reality though,” Wonwoo tells him. “You have a good starting point.”

“I can’t make space for change when I’m choking just trying to keep everything together,” Mingyu says. “Can you?”

Wonwoo was going to make a change tonight, actually. For better or for worse, he would have become a thief, and surely that was going to change stuff for him. He’s not sure if he’s glad his plan has failed now or not, but whatever the case, it certainly wasn’t his choice.

“I never get a chance,” Wonwoo says. “Even if I am capable of change, I don’t have a starting point.”

The next chip Mingyu eats crunches loudly in the silence of the road. It’s almost midnight, but neither of them looks hurried to leave. They keep eating and drinking, exchanging light conversation as the hours roll. One, two hours later, and after at least two cans of beer each, they remain slumped in their initial positions, basking in this rare feeling of companionship.

Wonwoo doesn’t have any friends out there. There’s barely anyone he can trust, let alone like. Doesn’t Mingyu have friends though? He looks like a sociable person. His tears were easy, and his smiles are easy too. And he’s an alpha, society tends to be more partial to them. Wonwoo gives him a long look, and the other doesn’t flinch away from it anymore. Maybe it’s a sign that they have gotten way too familiar over the span of a few hours.

“I should get going,” Wonwoo says.

He probably imagines the disappointed purse of the lips he sees on Mingyu’s face. He’s a little tipsy anyway.

“Where are you going?” Mingyu asks, more curiosity than a request to stay.

“Just…” Wonwoo waves his hand vaguely as he stands up. “Around.”

“Around here? Is this like… your area?” Mingyu blinks up at him.

Now it’s Wonwoo’s turn to look at him with curiosity. “What are you getting at?”

This time, Mingyu definitely presses his lips. He gives Wonwoo a once over, as if only now properly taking him in. It’s not leery or anything, but Wonwoo’s instantly on the defense. Alphas looking at him has never been a good sign before. He does feel a small pang of disappointment though, that he might have to run away now, after everything. He didn’t think that Mingyu… But then again, he doesn’t know him at all, no matter how intimate of a conversation they shared.

“I’ve been thinking,” Mingyu begins. “I know I can’t do this alone, I’ve known for a while now. I have two part-timers, but there’s only so much they can help. I was thinking that maybe I should hire someone full time, someone who will care about keeping the business running.”

“Oh,” Wonwoo replies, not completely at ease yet. “Good for you. I mean, if you can afford it.”

“I think it will be worth it in the long run,” Mingyu nods. “Money will be tight, and I can offer only minimum wage, but it’d give me the chance to do more. Promotions and stuff I’ve missed out on.”

“And no more crying outside your store, yeah?” Wonwoo gives him a ghost of a smile.

The answering smile he gets is quite bright, considering how shadowy their surroundings are. “So what do you say? Do you want the position?”

The world stops spinning for a bit, Wonwoo’s pretty certain of it. He shakes his head, in an attempt to right it again.

“We drunk a bit, maybe if you think it over-”

“I’m serious,” Mingyu says.

He looks serious. His eyes are focused, if tired. He doesn’t look any less sober than he did three hours ago. Still, there’s no way… Maybe it’s Wonwoo’s fault, maybe he heard something wrong.

“Can you repeat… what?” is the most coherent sentence he is able to make.

“Come work with me,” Mingyu repeats. “Full time.”

With me, not for me. Full time. Work.

Wonwoo brushes a hand through his hair, too overwhelmed to speak. He has to though, he has to make sure Mingyu understands what a bad idea this is. He has to understand that Wonwoo will never be good enough for it.

“Just, um…” he begins shakily. “Just because we talked… you don’t have to…” He shakes his head again, trying to get a grip for real this time. “You just met me, and I have no experience. Surely there’s someone better suited for the job.”

“Look, it’s not completely a spur-of-a-moment offer,” Mingyu sits a little straighter. “I’ve looked into it before. I need someone honest and present, someone I can trust that they understand how… important this is. Someone who will try. And correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you’ve been trying your entire life.”

Something dangerous closes around Wonwoo’s throat. He’s… he’s been trying. Not that anyone has ever acknowledged it before. Not that it ever mattered. He doesn’t get chances like this, this is not… how life works for him. There’s no way…

“I’m just a homeless guy, Mingyu. I thought you knew,” he says, voice quieter this time. He’d have preferred if he never said it out loud.

“Would it be illegal for me to hire you?”

“I… I don’t have any important papers, I never bothered…” Wonwoo exhales, mind reeling from a thousand doubts trying to clog it at once.

“Do you have a birth certificate?” Mingyu asks, voice calm now, as if he understands that Wonwoo’s having a hard time keeping up.

Wonwoo nods. He has that, and some medical documents from when he was a child. They should still exist somewhere. Probably.

“Then you can get the rest,” Mingyu smiles at him, reassuring. He sounds so certain, so unwavering about this. How can he sound certain? Maybe he’s not as smart as Wonwoo originally thought.

“You see me, right?” Wonwoo says, stretching his arms to better show himself. His rough appearance. He ignores the abrupt feeling of shame, burning hot inside him. “This is how I look Mingyu. I live on the streets. I don’t have any other clothes, or… anything, really.”

“We issue uniforms, you don’t have to worry about that.”

He has all the answers ready, doesn’t he? Wonwoo’s arms fall lifelessly on his sides. It’s serious, Mingyu’s offer is serious. He doesn’t know why he suddenly is so certain about it either, it wouldn’t be the first time someone tricked a homeless person only to take advantage of them later. He doesn’t know Mingyu, he needs to keep repeating that to himself.

They talked though. Wonwoo saw him bawling his eyes out, he offered comfort. And they had a dumb picnic together, and it was all supposed to be an absurd little moment he was going to forget tomorrow morning, not this… This.

“I wouldn’t even know where to start,” he confesses. “Papers and all, nevermind the actual job itself.”

“Hey, I’m all too familiar with the legal system. I had to take my sister in at 18. I can help you, if you need me to,” Mingyu offers and Wonwoo wants to recoil from it like burned.

Help him? Help him?

“Why?” he croaks out.

“Because I think that you will be better at this job than any other person I’ll be able to get,” Mingyu says.

“I-I might be a thief.”

“You said you weren’t.”

Not yet. He came so close to it though, that he practically feels like one. He was planning on finding another place to rob the moment he walked out of here. He’s not worth it, he’s not worth it at all.

“I’ll check police records,” Mingyu says. “And all the hiring proceedings will be legal, so I’ll know if you’ve lied to me about anything.” He stops, his shoulders relaxing a bit. Just like he was a few moments ago, when they were casually drinking beers and discussing life. “I hope you didn’t lie. Because… I need a change, and I think you need a chance.”

Stupid, how Wonwoo feels like the one who’s about to cry now. There’s no way he’ll cry in front of a stranger though, especially one that might… what? Become his boss? Absurdity has reached an all-time high, and Wonwoo has to pinch himself to make sure he hasn’t dreamt it all.

“I don’t know if I can do it,” he says eventually. “I can’t even be sure you won’t regret it the moment you wake up tomorrow.”

“That’s fair,” Mingyu chuckles. “I don’t want to pressure you, it’s your choice in the end.”

Weird combination of words, coming out of an alpha’s mouth.

“I’ll be here tomorrow morning though,” Mingyu says and gets up too. Wonwoo didn’t expect him to be taller than him. “If you decide to take the offer, you know where to find me. We can call my accountant to help you with the paper process too. All you need to do is show up.”

All you need to do is show up. Has it ever been this easy before? Is there any chance that it is actually this easy? And what will this even mean for him, Wonwoo hasn’t even began processing it all. He’ll get all the legal papers he has put off getting for years, he’ll… he’ll probably open a bank account. He’ll be an actual member of society, and not… whatever he is right now.

Wonwoo presses a palm to his forehead, turning around so Mingyu can’t see how sick he feels.

“I’ll think about it,” is all he is able to say, already taking a few steps away. “I, uh, thank you, I suppose. I’ll… yeah. Go. Um, now.”

“Goodbye Wonwoo,” Mingyu calls behind him, but his voice sounds far, far away. “Thank you for tonight.”

Wonwoo does end up running away, after all. But maybe, this time, it won’t be for good.

~~~

The sixth time Wonwoo visits the grocery store, he actually walks up to its front door. He leaves the comfort of his shadowy alleyway and steps under the bright sun. What a symbolism, he thinks sarcastically, in an attempt to quell his nerves. He gets close enough to smell the fruit stand and sidestep a grandma walking blindly out of the store.

It hadn’t been easy to convince himself to show up, no. It took an entire sleepless night, the first half full of doubt and denial, only interrupted by a few persistent what ifs. The second half though, when he had exhausted all his reserves of stubborn refusal, he actually started thinking about it.

He made a plan. Getting a job wouldn’t magically fix all his problems, sure, but he asked for a chance. He asked for luck to smile down on him, and now that it has, how could he ever live with himself if he just let it go by? He could at least try, that was all Mingyu asked of him. And if it didn’t work, he’d leave. Simple as that.

The morning found him visiting the shelter for a quick, cold shower. Smelling like the most generic brand of soap, he walked to the front desk and asked the middle-aged lady manning it if she had a clean shirt he could borrow for a job interview. It stung a little, how excited she looked at the prospect of him trying to get his life together. She even gave him one of her own spare shirts she carried with her, knowing full well that he could be lying and she’d never see it again.

Wonwoo paused for a moment, suddenly realizing how much she cared. He hadn’t noticed before how it must have been for her, seeing poor people coming in and out all the time, each time a little worse, until they stopped coming altogether. It must have been disheartening, but here she was, rooted at her place, trying to give any help she could. Wonwoo realized how she has given her soul to her job, and he thought that this was how he wanted to be as well. If Mingyu actually did hire him, he needed to be like this lady on the front desk, present and devoted to her mission. At least in Wonwoo’s imagination.

So, with a shirt extremely tight on his shoulders but at least clean, he pushes the glass door of the store open and finally, after all this time, he steps inside. A little bell rings above his head, signaling the entrance of a customer. A few rows of products stretch before him, flours and pasta and cleaning supplies. A freezer at the far back of the room, a green corner for all the fresh products. And on his right, right next to the entrance of the store-

“Wonwoo! You made it!”

A pang of anxiety hits Wonwoo when he hears Mingyu’s voice. He sounds way more alive than yesterday. His eyes are a little swollen from their late night, but he stands behind his cash register like usual, apron tied neatly around his torso and barely a hair out of place.

“Hi,” Wonwoo says, his voice a lot quieter than he would have liked. He clears his throat. “Good morning,” he says, louder. He walks closer to the check-out desk, and Mingyu swiftly steps out of it to greet him properly.

“I woke up early today and searched you up at the police station, like I said,” he says, words rushing out of him. “You do have a clean slate, and you will be getting only minor fees for delaying to procure legal documents after you became an adult. Since you didn’t have an income until now, or any material possessions to register, it’s not like they’ll charge you for-”

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo puts up a hand to stop him. This needs to happen on his own terms, lest he panics and runs away again. He doesn’t even remember giving Mingyu his full name to research, but he must have, at some point last night. He was feeling quite vulnerable yesterday, after all the things he had shared. Now though, if he wants this to work, he needs to toughen up a bit.

“What?” Mingyu asks. “You want the job, right?”

Wonwoo takes a deep breath. This is it. “I do.”

“Then-”

“But I have to make my own case,” Wonwoo tells him seriously. “Can I talk to you, um… Do you have an office? Or something like that. I need to do this properly.”

Mingyu straightens his shoulders a bit, understanding dawning on his face. He reins the onslaught of information in and composes himself. His face doesn’t lose the friendliness, but he’s more serious now too. Good.

“Yes, of course,” he says. “I’ll have to keep my eye on the register, but follow me.”

He guides them behind the check-out desk, through a tiny door to an even tinier room. The walls are filled with shelves, books and papers hanging off of them in the most anxiety-inducing mess Wonwoo has ever seen. He doesn’t even want to think of the nightmare paperwork must be in this place.

“It’s bad, I know,” Mingyu says, going to sit at the lone desk in the middle of it all. There are even more papers stacked on top of each other on its surface. “I don’t have time to fix it though. Hopefully with you here, things will change.”

“I see you have made up your mind of wanting me here,” Wonwoo says, clasping his hands in front of him. He can’t say he’s not relieved. It makes his next words a bit easier. “But, I would still like to tell you that if you do hire me, I will do my best to help you. I am going to take this seriously. I don’t have any experience, and you’ll have to guide me through a lot, but I am eager to learn, and I promise I won’t let this chance go to waste.”

There, he said it. He’s been preparing that little speech for entirely too long. His fingers feel a little numb from the nerves, but at least it’s out now. There’s no going back.

“Even if you did it out of kindness,” he continues, “I’ll try to prove to you that you can count on me. That you didn’t make the wrong choice. I’ll respect you as a boss, and I’ll be whatever you need me to. In exchange, I hope for fair treatment and the compensation you already offered.” He bows then, deeper than he ever remembers bowing. “I hope we can work well together.”

Mingyu has been listening to him attentively all this time, a little smile on his lips. When he sees him bowing though, he gets up himself, and offers a small bow of his own.

“Thank you for offering your thoughts. I hope we can work well together too.”

They both rise, and Wonwoo lets out a deep exhale. He flexes his fingers, letting feeling slowly return to them. Mingyu sits back down, his eyes still carefully trained on him.

“We were casual yesterday, but I’ll understand if-” Wonwoo starts, only for the other to stop him.

“No, no, it’s okay. I appreciate the formality, but I’m on first-name basis with my other employees too. Thank you though, for taking this seriously.”

Wonwoo nods. “Then, I’m in your hands.” He pauses for a moment longer, letting it properly sink in. That he has a job now, even if not in paper yet, then at least in name. It wasn’t a trick of his mind, a desperate attempt at hope. This is actually happening. “What now?”

“Now,” Mingyu says, reaching his hand in his pocket to fish out his phone. “I call my accountant.”

Mingyu dials in the number and puts it on speakerphone, letting it ring atop his desk. His accountant replies eventually, and Wonwoo lets Mingyu do all the talking. He lets him explain the situation, half-expecting judgement coming from the other end of the line. He starts feeling guilty even before it happens, thinking that Mingyu will get questioned about his poor decisions just because of him.

He's worried for nothing though, because all the accountant does is listen carefully and hum, offering no other input. Apparently, getting paid stops people from questioning stuff. This is merely a job to her, and her detached disinterest is enough to calm Wonwoo down.

She eventually starts asking information about Wonwoo, typing away at her computer to find out at which precinct he is registered, where he will need to go.

“Jeon Wonwoo,” Mingyu replies for him for that as well. “Male. Omega.”

Wonwoo stiffens up a bit. He’s pretty sure he gave Mingyu his full name last night, but nothing more. And yet, the same way Wonwoo knows the other’s an alpha, his own sub-gender is abundantly clear to anyone close enough to see. And Mingyu was definitely close enough last night.

It’s fine, Wonwoo tells himself. If Mingyu wanted to be weird, he had many chances already. He doesn’t even glance at him as he gives the information over, as if it really means nothing to him. That’s a green flag, as far as Wonwoo’s concerned.

And if it does ever get weird, Wonwoo’s pretty sure he can easily take him in a fight. He’s had a lot more experience fighting, that’s for sure. Yeah, it’ll be fine.

The accountant starts telling them of the necessary steps to take. Mingyu quickly grabs a piece of paper and a pencil and he starts jotting down whatever she’s saying in a surprisingly neat handwriting. Wonwoo steps a little closer to him and starts reading about everything he’ll need to do. The nerves don’t seem to want to dissipate, scared of the unknown, of this new endeavor in life he’s not really sure he’s capable of.

He will try though. That’s what he told Mingyu, that’s what he told himself. When Mingyu gives his thanks to his accountant and hangs up the phone, Wonwoo takes the paper in his hands with new-found determination.

“I can probably find some time and come with you, if you need help,” Mingyu tells him. Just a glance at him though and it’s so obvious that he doesn’t have time to breathe, much less tag along in Wonwoo’s first real venture to adulthood.

It’s just a damn list. Wonwoo can follow it.

“I will manage, thank you,” he tells him, folding the paper in half. “But in the meantime…”

“I can’t start paying you until I can properly hire you,” Mingyu says, voice apologetic. “But, you can stop by whenever you want, get some training and stuff. I still can’t pay for the training, so I can’t force you to come, but it’s not like I’m kicking you out or anything. As far as I’m concerned, you’re part of the team now.”

Wonwoo’s never really been a part of a team. He doesn’t know how it is to belong, to have somewhere to be. In the back of his mind, he always thought working retail is a soulless, lonely job. Employers see people as numbers, and nothing more. This is not a big company though, or a large chain shop. This is a family-owned, neighborhood grocery store, with all the advantages and disadvantages of one. Maybe there’s not currently much of a family running it, but it’s obvious Mingyu has kept all the values.

A jingle of a bell has Mingyu instantly on his feet, all but running out of his office to go to his register. The conversation is cut short, but Wonwoo has made up his mind.

He’ll get the papers as fast as possible. He’ll learn as much as he can about the job, and by the time he gets paid, he will have earned every single penny. He finally has a goal, a chance at a starting point to turn his life around, and he’ll be damned if he wastes it. He has absolutely nothing else in his life, so now that he gets this one thing, he’ll put his everything into keeping it.