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gukyi · 6 years ago

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raspberry truffles | ksj

summary: how to fake date your best friend: step one: don’t fall in love with them. failed step one.

[friends to lovers!au, fake dating!au}

pairing: seokjin x female reader word count: 5k genre: fluff warnings: obscene amounts of lindor truffle consumption, holiday mischief, seokjin being lovably obnoxious, the usual. a/n: hi. i know it’s been over a month since i last posted a fic. i hope this trashy fake dating drabble makes up for my absence. based on a true story. yes, this happened to me. well, most of it. please enjoy!

“Are you sure Taehyung’s gonna like it?” You ask, holding up the shirt in your hand with a look of skepticism. Seokjin had insisted that it was right up Taehyung’s alley—an obnoxious red heart pattern covering the entire article—but you’re not sure if he’s actually being genuine or duping you into getting a terrible gift for your mutual friend for his birthday. You’re not going to say it’s not Taehyung’s style, but you’re also not going say he’ll totally love it. It’s kind of a garish, kitsch shirt.

“Believe me, he will,” Seokjin says with the confidence of a talk show host. As if he is the all-knowing god of mutual friend’s birthday gifts. You know fully well that he had completely forgotten about Taehyung’s birthday until you texted him a couple of days ago to ask if he would come out shopping with you. “He’s into shit like that.”

You hold the shirt out in front of you to inspect it. “I don’t know, Taehyung seems more like an Urban Outfitters trinkets kind of guy to me. I feel like we should get him a giant Gudetama plushie or something instead,” you say hesitantly.

“That’s Namjoon,” Seokjin informs you pointedly, and automatically you have to agree. Namjoon looks like he’s waltzed out of the Urban Outfitter’s men’s section on the daily.

You feel around for your phone. “Should I text Jungkook and ask him what he thinks?”

“What? No way,” Seokjin says, hand already going to block you from getting your phone from your back pocket. You attempt to ignore the feeling of Seokjin’s large palm on your ass, but he hasn’t seemed to notice the compromising placement of his hand. Probably for the better. “Don’t ask Jungkook. He doesn’t know Taehyung like I do.”

“They’re dating,” you remind him.

“That’s exactly my point,” Seokjin says matter-of-factly. “Jungkook sees all things Taehyung-related through love goggles. Everything about Taehyung’s perfect to him. He’d be the worst person to ask. Trust me, I’m the best one. You’re in good hands. Don’t you have faith in me?”

“I almost never have faith in you, Jin,” you say as you approach one of the many checkout stands scattered around the Macy’s. True to the holiday season, the line is a good seven other patrons long. “You better be right. Hey, gimme one.”

You reach over into the bag hanging from Seokjin’s wrist, fingers rustling around for a chocolate.

For some unknown reason, the two of you consciously, willingly, and sober-ly bought two whole pounds worth of Lindt truffles from the store in the mall, and now you’re walking around gorging on them. You spent over twenty minutes picking out each individual flavor, taking your sweet time to inspect and select which ones would be the most vital to your growing collection. It may just be the worst purchase the two of you have ever made, and once Seokjin (under your supervision) spent actual money on a bicycle without any wheels from a garage sale in your neighborhood.

“The guy checking us out at the Lindt store probably thought we were insane,” you continue, pulling out a regular milk chocolate one and stuffing the entire thing into your mouth. You crumple up the wrapper and stuff it back into the back, to be dealt with later.

“He probably thought we had excellent taste in chocolate,” Seokjin corrects you proudly over a mouthful of chocolate. There’s a smudge of brown at the corner of his lips you’re dying to wipe off but because you enjoy when your best friend walks around like a fool, you make no mention of it. “Here, try a raspberry one.”

You reach out to grab the magenta-wrapped candy but he moves it out of your grasp in the blink of an eye, dangling it above your head like a demon with a couple of inches on you. He’s not that much taller than you, he’s just insufferable.

“Hey, fuck you,” you declare indignantly, reaching up to grab it. Seokjin goes so far as to stand on his tiptoes in the middle of the checkout line at Macy’s, unwrapping the chocolate with gentle fingers as he towers over you. “Fuckin’ Christ, Seokjin.”

“Open up,” Seokjin singsongs as he returns to his normal height, moving it back and forth over your lips like a mother bird feeding her babies worms as you angrily wrestle him for it.

“I’m not a two-year-old,” you grumble, but Seokjin is relentless and you can’t really do anything except indulge him. He seems so intent on feeding you and you want the chocolate enough for you to not wish to fight him for it.

“Come on, please?” Seokjin begs, puffing out his bottom lip as he slowly begins to lower the chocolate to your mouth. You roll your eyes, make a mental note to get him back for this later, and open your mouth obediently, letting your best friend smile contentedly as he drops the truffle onto your tongue.

“I hate you,” you inform him politely over a mouthful of chocolate.

“Yeah, yeah, I hate you too,” Seokjin says with a grin, his laughter warm and bright.

You and Seokjin pass the rest of the time waiting in the checkout line by going through his camera roll. At your most recent friend gathering, Jimin and Hoseok had snatched up Seokjin’s precious iPhone X and proceeded to spam his photos with various action shots all taken in quick succession. The joke’s on them, though, because Seokjin’s phone has 512 gigabytes worth of storage and now he’s got some prime blackmail material.

Eventually you reach the front of the checkout line, a kind-looking middle-aged woman standing there with the red Macy’s nametag pinned onto her shirt. Seokjin lingers back since it’s not his purchase, a couple of steps behind you as he fingers through the two-pound bag of chocolate the two of you bought together (why did you do that).

“Did he tell you to get this?” The lady asks you, motioning to Seokjin.

You sigh. “Unfortunately, yes. But it’s for a friend’s birthday,” you clarify, still a bit unsure as to whether or not Taehyung will actually like what you’ve gotten for him. It’s too late now. “Can I get a gift receipt with that?”

She nods, pressing on the computer screen in front of her before scanning the item. Behind you, you can hear the rustle of plastic, and you turn around to find Seokjin stuffing not one, but two whole Lindor truffles into his mouth at once.

“Hey! Hands off, Kim! We paid for those together, you know,” you scold, catching your best friend red-handed. Or, red-lipped would be the better term. He smiles sheepishly before chewing the chocolates already in his mouth, quickly swallowing down the offending food with a guilty grin.

“Men,” the clerk comments. At least she understands you.

“I know, right?” You say in response as she hands you your shopping bag and sends you on your merry way. You’re busy stuffing the receipt in your hands into your coat pocket as Seokjin links arms with you, leading you towards one of the many exits in this oversized department store.

“Hey, want another?” Seokjin asks, holding out a stracciatella truffle—your personal favorite—your way. You nod, letting Seokjin unwrap the chocolate and place it on your tongue as you head outside.

King Seokjin™ (7:47PM): Y/N King Seokjin™ (7:47PM): YOU’RE NEVER GONNA BELIEVE WHAT JUST HAPPENED King Seokjin™ (7:47PM): I’M FUCKING SPEECHLESS King Seokjin™ (7:47PM): FUCK IT I’M CALLING YOU

As you pick up your phone from the table beside you, the screen already alight from notifications, the device begins to vibrate in your hands as Seokjin’s contact photo—a picture you sniped of him mid-burrito bite—appears on screen.

“Hello?”

“Y/N!” Seokjin wails into the phone, making you jump slightly. Not that you’ve never picked up one of his calls and been met with just a shriek before, because you have. They just catch you off guard. You have the loudest best friend. “You’re never gonna believe what just happened to me!”

“Let me guess,” you interrupt. “You found a stray cat and now you’ve taken it into your house and named it Guacamole. Or you bought a Fender guitar at a yard sale for like, fifteen dollars and now you’re going to become a rock star. You invented a new cake recipe. Saw a twenty dollar bill on the sidewalk. Got signed to a modeling agency.”

Seokjin laughs, hearty and warm into the phone. “All good things, but no. This is better! Wilder! Crazier!”

“What could be crazier than you getting signed to a modeling agency?”

“First of all, fuck you,” Seokjin declares. “Gigi Hadid wants what I have. Second of all, no. I went back to Macy’s because my mom needed me to return one of those fancy expensive coats she bought because she said that the color makes her skin look green. Which, it does, so I’m glad she returned it.”

“Can you get on with this? Jungkook wants me to play him in Mariokart at eight,” you whine, knowing how long-winded Seokjin gets with his stories. He would make a fantastic stand-up comedian.

“Tell Jungkook he owes me two dollars and seven cents for eating three of the Lindt truffles that we got a couple of days ago,” Seokjin adds on. You are wholly unsurprised he calculated the exact amount. “Anyway, let me finish my story. Okay, so I went to Macy’s, right? And the same lady that checked you out for Tae’s shirt helped me return my mom’s coat. And I don’t know, maybe I looked sad or something, because she took one look at me and said, to my gorgeous face, mind you, ‘Oh, did she break up with you? You should have treated her better!’”

It feels like your mouth drops open in shock. Thank God this isn’t a video call.

“Wait, what?” You ask, sufficiently speechless. Did the Macy’s checkout lady really think the two of you were dating? It seems kind of laughable. Sure, Seokjin’s your best friend but you don’t know if the way you behave around him is similar to the way a couple would act. If at all.

“I know!” Seokjin exclaims. “And I didn’t know what the fuck to do so I just stood there awkwardly and nodded. This is slander.”

Before you’re about to ask why, your best friend barrels on.

“Like, how dare she think I make an inferior boyfriend? Excuse me? I would make the best boyfriend in the entire world,” Seokjin declares, as if he has any sort of scientific evidence to back up his claim. In all of his years of living, Seokjin has never been a boyfriend. A fact that shocks you most of the time when you think about it, because Seokjin is incredibly attractive and funny and kind and quite frankly, top-notch boyfriend material. “If we were dating I would treat you so fuckin’ well. Take you on dates to amusement parks and sacrifice my wellbeing by getting on the biggest rollercoasters with you. I’d buy you funnel cake and then I’d tell you that I can make it better. Then I’d make you better funnel cake. And I would pay for your meals only when you wanted me to, like when we split the cost for our two-pounds of Lindt chocolate. And I’d laugh at all of your jokes even though mine are superior in every way. I’d go to stores and see dumbass things that remind me of you and then I’d buy them and give them to you. I’d—”

“You sound really intent on proving this lady wrong, Jin,” you interrupt, Seokjin’s voice getting progressively more determined with every sentence. Like he’s going to change this lady’s mind. Like he’s going to just up and become the best boyfriend you could ever ask for all so he can tell the Macy’s checkout lady to suck it.

“Yeah, I am. I’ve been slandered against,” Seokjin says. You can practically see the furrow of his brows, the resolution lacing his features. “Don’t you agree, Y/N? If we were dating, I would be the best boyfriend you’ve ever had.”

Your mouth opens to respond to him with some witty comment like you do with everything else he says, but your tongue is dry. Red alarms blare in your brain. Even if only for a second, you don’t like thinking about what it would be like to date Seokjin. Because you know—of course you fucking know, he’s your best friend, he’s been your best friend for so long, it’s as if you’re already—

“Christ,” you say, resting your head against your hands.

“You know what?” Seokjin keeps going, paying no attention to the resignation in your voice, the subdued tone of your words. “I’m gonna prove this lady wrong. Tomorrow, you’re coming to Macy’s with me and we’re gonna hold hands and I’m gonna be the best fake boyfriend you’ve ever had.”

“Tomorrow’s Tae’s birthday bash,” you remind him, the only thing you feel confident saying without your words betraying you.

“Cool. Even better. We’ll drop by Macy’s, tell that lady to suck it, and then we’ll just drive straight to Tae’s. Sound good?”

You don’t think you’d have the heart to say no to him even if you tried. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Good. Good plan.” You think the conversation will end there when, “Be prepared to be swept off of your fucking feet tomorrow, Y/N. I’m gonna be the best boyfriend you’ve ever had. The best boyfriend the world has ever seen. I’m gonna be so in love with you tomorrow, Y/N, you won’t know what’s hit you.”

The line goes dead.

The very first stop that you make when you and Seokjin return to the mall as part of his ridiculous, convoluted scheme to prove the Macy’s lady wrong is the Lindt store. It’s only natural—all roads lead to chocolate. That’s just how life works.

“Two pounds or one pound?” Seokjin asks as he plucks one of the plastic serve yourself bags from the shelf.

“Who do you take me for?” You respond with your eyebrows raised, as if to challenge him. Like you’d ever settle for anything less than the absolute most. “Two. Pour up, bitch.”

You and Seokjin slowly begin to pick out your desired chocolates, two of this one and four of those and ten of these—”Seokjin, what the fuck?”—as you make your way around the section of the Lindt store meant for losers like yourselves to waste away their day looking at truffle flavors. It’s a good thing that you and Seokjin have similar tastes when it comes to chocolates, because every time Seokjin motions for you to choose the next flavor you end up selecting one that you know he’ll like just as much as you.

“This didn’t seem as heavy the first time around,” Seokjin comments with his hands full as you march up to the register.

“Maybe you’ve gotten weaker,” you tease softly as you fumble for your wallet, operating under the assumption that you’ll split the cost like last time.

“No, it’s alright,” Seokjin says with a hand on top of yours, blocking you from opening your wallet.

“What? Seokjin—”

“Please? Come on, I gotta get in the boyfriend mood. Just this once, alright?” He pleads, puffing out his lower lip. Maybe you’d argue more if it weren’t for the way he asks you with such gentle eyes, or how he’s already gotten out his own wallet, or how he’s been swearing up and down that he’s going to be the best fake boyfriend you’ve ever had. You won’t take that away from him.

Besides, you’ve always been weak for him.

“Fine,” you huff out as Seokjin happily hands over his card to the guy behind the register, who looks like he doesn’t get paid enough to watch gross, overly-romantic couples be gross and overly romantic in front of him. Seokjin gives you the greasiest wink you think you’ve ever beared witness to, and with that the cashier hands you your purchase and bids you farewell.

By the time you’re rounding the corner into Macy’s, Seokjin’s expression has changed from that of chocolate-made satisfaction to pure, unadulterated determination, brows set and eyes hard. It sort of makes you laugh, the look on his face, because never have you seen him look so driven just to prove somebody wrong. The lady might not even be working today.

It’s weird, because even though the lady was last seen working in the men’s section on the first floor, as you enter through the second-floor entrance by the shoes, he grabs your hand. It is by no means romantic, not gentle or soft or delicate, but he grips your palm tightly and interlaces his fingers with yours purposely and it makes your breath hitch in your throat all the same. It’s not as though the two of you aren’t touchy with each other anyway, because you definitely are, but you’ve never held hands before. Not like this. Not in the dating way. Not in the way that feels like if Seokjin lets you go you’ll drift away, out of his reach.

Suddenly your hand is held tightly in his and for some reason, you aren’t looking forward to when he’ll let go. In fact, you’re rather dreading it.

You’re passing by the women’s sections, steps slow but meaningful, and Seokjin leans over to tell you to pick out something that you like and something that you’ll wear often.

“What, why?” You sputter out as he guides you through the racks of clothing, sections disheveled from the holiday season. Seokjin’s always had a good eye for style and particularly great taste, even if he does toe the line between fashionable and questionable every now and then.

“Well, first of all, it can be your Christmas gift,” he reasons jokingly, a finger gun accompanied by a wink pointed your way. “Second of all, we’ll need to buy something to have a valid excuse to approach the checkout line.”

“But I don’t—Seokjin, we stopped getting each other Christmas gifts a long time ago,” you remind him, the memory of the two of you deciding that buying material objects for each other wasn’t up to snuff for your relationship playing in your mind. And then, softly, “You know that your company is enough of a gift to me.”

He shrugs, pulling a soft pink sweater from a clothing rack, one that looks to be about his size rather than yours. “Well, then consider this one of those things that reminds me of you that I just had to buy you, alright?”

You end up in the same line you stood in several days ago with a pink sweater hanging from your arm. Seokjin makes sure that every time he pulls out a Lindor truffle from the bag he offers you one as well, unwrapping it with long, nimble fingers before placing it on your tongue.

“We should have just gotten Taehyung some chocolate,” you realize belatedly, staring down at the packet hanging from Seokjin’s wrist. It’s half-empty. Have you already eaten that many? “We wouldn’t even be in this predicament in the first place.”

“If we had gotten Taehyung some chocolate, Jungkook would eat it all,” Seokjin tells you, making you laugh. “And besides, I don’t really mind this. Being your boyfriend, or whatever. It’s fun.”

His words stun you into enough of a silence to last the rest of the journey up the line, up until there’s a single patron in front of you.

“This is a team effort, alright?” Seokjin says to you, grin spread wide on his face. “I know that you’re going to pale in comparison to my incredible talent and flawless boyfriend abilities—,” a laugh, “—but you gotta have your head in the game too, okay? I can’t do this without you.”

“This isn’t a soap opera, Jin,” you remind him softly.

“Yeah, well, it’s about to become one. And just in case you forgot, I love you, Y/N.” Your eyes widen at the sound of his voice, the words on the tip of his tongue—they are words you have heard leave his lips plenty of times before, but never in the way that they do now—but before you can react any further, the customer in front of you is moving out of the way and Seokjin is pressing his hot, wet lips to your cheek in a crushing side kiss.

The lady behind the checkout desk probably looks as shocked as you do.

“Just this?” She asks as you place the sweater down on the counter, too afraid to turn around to look at the expression on Seokjin’s face.

“Great taste, right?” Seokjin asks the lady, forcing you to look up at him. He’s got the biggest smile on his face, proud of his choice, your hand still held tightly in his. You’re almost positive the lady can’t see it from her position behind the counter. “Picked it out myself.”

“Don’t flatter yourself too much, it’s not that exciting,” you reprimand lightly, hoping the comment is enough to warrant girlfriend behavior. Whatever that is.

“You wound me, Y/N,” Seokjin says with a hand to his heart, feigning injury. “Move over, I need to get to the card scanner.”

You scoot over complacently, allowing Seokjin to purchase the item with a swipe of his card. When the price appears on the little screen on the card reader, your eyes nearly pop out of your head, having failed to realize how expensive the sweater was as Seokjin stuffed it into your hands. Surely he must have known, or he wouldn’t have picked it up.

“Seokjin, what on Earth—” You immediately say, making to fight with him.

“Just let me, Y/N,” he pleads. “Please? I just want to treat you.”

“But—”

“You deserve it, you know?” Seokjin asks, turning you so that you face him directly. He’s got the same look in his eye, determination and focus lacing his features. Like he’s daring you to challenge him. “You’re so wonderful, all of the time. And you treat others with so much kindness and respect. You’re funny without having to try super hard like me, and you’ve been dealing with my shit for so long that I’m surprised you haven’t up and left.”

He gives your hand a firm squeeze from under the checkout counter. A reminder not to argue with him, even if only for a couple of minutes.

“And I love you,” Seokjin finishes, too firm and secure to be an afterthought. Too easily said for it to be something he felt obligated to add on.

The lady looks sufficiently endeared as she hands you the plastic Macy’s bag, giving the both of you a smile as you turn to leave. Seokjin looks incredibly pleased with himself and pulls you into a side-hug, crushing your ribs in the process.

“You never let me down, Y/N,” he declares successfully, releasing you from his limb prison. “Thanks for letting me be your boyfriend for an afternoon. I’m ready to go raid Taehyung and Jungkook’s apartment.”

You hum in response, letting Seokjin ramble on about how he was worried he wouldn’t be a good enough actor to fool her and how he really thought she would see through the whole thing without any interruptions from yourself. If he’s noticed how resigned you are, he’s made no comment.

“You know I hate it when you buy me things,” you tell him softly as you’re walking out of the store, fingers fiddling with each other as you stare down into the bag in your hands. There’s a sweater in there that you wish Seokjin hadn’t bought you and a feeling in your heart that you can’t get rid of.

“Pay me back later if it bothers you that much,” Seokjin tells you.

You stay silent.

Christmas lights decorate Taehyung and Jungkook’s apartment, taped up along the walls and windows and wrapped around their grossly millennial white Christmas tree, radiating a soft, warm glow that seems to make everything more romantic than it should be.

You’ve been sitting on the couch the entire night, nursing a cup of kombucha in your hands as everyone around you celebrates, shouting and cheering and screaming. Seokjin disappeared from your sight the moment you walked through the door, always the life of the party.

There’s a sweater in the trunk of his car and a nagging voice at the back of your head.

Taehyung loved the gift you got him, if it’s any consolation. He had opened all of them right after Jungkook wiped most of the icing off of Taehyung’s birthday cake and onto his face, using it as perfect leverage to kiss it off of him, much to everyone’s minor disgust. As he gave you a hug of thanks, Seokjin winked at you, as if to say, “Don’t you trust me?”

You worry that you trust him too much.

Seokjin bought Taehyung Super Smash Brothers for his birthday, and immediately the video game became the object of everyone’s attention as Taehyung rushed to plug the game into his Nintendo Switch. As you swirl around your kombucha, Taehyung and company are furiously shouting at each other, aggressively mashing the buttons on the controllers in their hands.

“Hey,” a soft voice says next to you. You turn your head to see Seokjin, his soft palm placed against your back to get your attention. “Wanna go outside? It’s loud in here.”

It’s loud in here, too, your brain supplies unhelpfully.

Your best friend pulls you up from where you’re seated, leading you to the balcony outside Taehyung and Jungkook’s kitchen, overlooking a rather dinky part of town. It’s not the greatest view, and by no means is it peaceful or quiet, but it’s enough. He seems to be nursing a cup of kombucha as well. Taehyung and Jungkook never really did alcohol.

You stand in silence for a few moments, letting the fresh air wash over you like waves on the shore, the tide pulling you in before pushing you back.

Then, “Thanks for helping me pick out Taehyung’s gift. He really liked it.”

“I knew he would,” Seokjin responds. “You should have more faith in me.”

“I have enough faith in you, Seokjin.” You sigh.

Car honks. Police sirens. Chatter. Wind.

“If you really don’t like that sweater, I’ll return it. It’s no big deal,” Seokjin speaks up. “I know you don’t like it when I buy you things.”

“It’s not that, it’s just—”

“I wanted to tell you that everything I said in Macy’s today, that’s true,” Seokjin continues. Your breath hitches in your throat. Boyfriend or not, you’re the greatest person that I’ve ever met. That I think I’ll ever meet.” You feel him as he comes up next to you. “There’s nobody like you, Y/N.”

“You don’t mean that,” you say, more to yourself than to him.

“Of course I do,” Seokjin says. “I’d do anything for you.”

“Then would you kiss me?” You whisper softly, hoping that the sounds of the traffic below will drown out your voice. Hoping that the words will just fade into the air around you without Seokjin even realizing.

“What?”

He places a hand on your arm before pulling you into him, large palms tracing up and down your figure. Seokjin reaches up, brushes away a stray strand of hair. Lets the soft pad of his thumb gently press on your cheek.

“Don’t make me say it again,” you mutter to yourself, eyes tracing the laces of your boots.

“Y/N,” Seokjin says, tilting your head up so that your eyes meet his dark brown ones, the Christmas lights decorating the apartment reflected in his irises, like golden stars in a sea of black. “Do you even need to ask?”

Before your mind can catch up to your racing heart, you feel his lips pressing against yours, warm and soft and perfect. He pulls you in closer, leans in further, holds you tighter. It’s not a deep kiss, no tongue, no biting. Just lips. Just lips and the feeling of him, of your best friend, of Seokjin in everything that he can be.

He pulls away softly, standing up tall once more. His cheeks are tinged pink. His smile has never been brighter.

“You know,” Seokjin says. “When I said I loved you, I meant that, too.”

There’s a sweater in a Macy’s bag in the trunk of a car, and another kiss on your best friend-turned-boyfriend’s lips that you fully intend on stealing.

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