- 1500 words - Fluff - Crack? - Bobby and Jinhwan to the rescue -

- Summary: Junhoe knows better than to come home empty handed. -

You’re at the point in your pregnancy where weird cravings start hitting you at 4AM and poor Junhoe is kicked out of the house more than too often to track down whatever obscure food you feel like eating. This time it’s fresh pineapple and, regardless of the fact that they were out of season months ago, Junhoe’s standing in the middle of the produce aisle on the verge of curling up into a little ball and dying because the closest thing he can find to a pineapple is an avocado.

“Um, excuse me?” He hates asking for help, but he’s more than desperate. “Do you guys happen to have pineapples? Like the fresh ones?” The employee scurrying past stops to stare back blankly as if he’s not sure he’s the one being talked to.

“Me?” the shorter male points to his chest then gawfs in a way that has Junhoe taking a step back in surprise. “Sorry, I don’t work here.”

“O-oh. Sorry about that then.”

The stranger must take pity on Junhoe, whose shoulders sag as he turns to go hunt down an actual employee, because he speaks up to stop the other from leaving. “Hey!” he reaches out a hand, “I, um, I come here often, so maybe I can help you find what you’re looking for? You said pineapples, right?”

“Oh my god, please,” Junhoe groans, “Y/N will murder me in my sleep if I come back without one.”

“Y/N? Who's that? Your girlfriend?”

“Wife,” Junhoe supplies, “She’s just past six months pregnant and scary as hell.”

“Ooooo~ I know how that goes,” he smiles widely, reaching out a hand. “I’m Bobby by the way; you can call me Jiwon the pineapple expert.” And Junhoe’s more than desperate, so he quickly updates the other on the stores he’s checked so far 7 in the last hour, but who’s counting? and tries to somehow impart his fear of death into the other.

“But really, hyung, if I don’t come back with a pineapple, she’s going to castrate me.”

“I’m sure she’s not that-”

“Hyung,” he interrupts, “I’m mentally scarred from the last time. Trust me - she’s a pregnant lady you wanna cross.”

Bobby takes one glance at the other - pouting mouth, crumpled shirt, mismatched shoes and all- then nods in understanding. “Noted.”

They spend the next ten minutes double checking that there’s no pointy fruits in the open displays of produce, then decide to ask a cashier to page someone for help in favor of wandering around aimlessly. The older lady listens to Junhoe’s frantic explanation with bored eyes, then slowly reaches over for the phone. Bobby can’t help but be reminded of the slug lady from Monsters Inc. “Jinhwan to register two. Jinhwan to register two.” The handset clatters into place as she drops it on the hook. “He’ll be right with you,” she drones nasally before walking off, “If you can’t find him, look down.”

The two men exchange glances at the odd comment, but lower their gazes all the same. As long as this Jinhwan kid knows where to find a pineapple, he can be ten centimeters tall for all Junhoe cares. Turns out he’s a good thirteen centimeters.

“Hey, guys! How can I help you?” The way he smiles innocently up at them is apparently too cute for Bobby to handle, because he starts sputtering nonsense and Junhoe has to take over.

“A pineapple. All I need is a stupid pineapple or, so help me god, my wife is gonna bury me alive.”

“Oooo~” the shorter male scrunches his nose, “We haven’t had anything remotely tropical on shelf for a good three months... Have you tried checking at our other location?”

“Yep.”

“At Riley’s store?”

“All three of them.”

“The grocery up on forth?”

“First place I looked.”

“Gas stations? They’re always full of random stuff.”

“Yesssssss.”

“Huh,” Jinhwan is at a loss. “Maybe you should just walk to Brazil?”

“Believe me,” Junhoe deadpans, “I tried.”

“And she can’t just eat the canned ones?” he questions, brow raised, “They’re not that bad...”

“Nope,” Junhoe shakes his head solemnly, “She very specifically said ‘fresh pineapple’ and ‘don’t you dare come home without one.’”

Jinhwan worries a lip between his teeth then asks them to wait a second while he triple checks the back room. He skitters off down an aisle and Bobby not so subtly stares after him. “Let’s just take him home instead,” he whispers out the corner of his mouth.

“Okay, first off: I’ve known you for all of like twenty minutes, so chill,” Junhoe pushes the other an arm’s length away, “And second: gross. Leave the poor kid alone.”

“Hey, I’m just saying,” he wiggles an eyebrow, “I can’t help that he’s cute… or that his is as tight as a-”

“NO.” The last thing he wants to listen to at 5:30AM is another dude’s jerking material. “I don’t know you, remember? Wait until the second date at least.”

“Oh . That’s right.” Bobby backtracks, self reflects for all of 0.000001 seconds. “But really, though. Do you think he does squats?” Before Junhoe can die of mortification, a breathless Jinhwan marches up to them, arms full of food.

“Ooookay. I’ve got pineapple slices in juice, in syrup, chunked, crushed, frozen, dried, in yogurt, hell, I even found pineapple chapstick.”

“...That’s all?”

“T-that’s all?” Jinhwan stutters, “This is the most pineapple anything I’ve seen in one place.”

The dramatic sob of I’m so dead has other early morning shoppers turning their way. “It’s fine, Jinhwan. Thanks for all your help, really. It’s been two hours, so if I haven't found one in all this time, I probably won’t find one no matter where I go.” His head hangs low as he backs away with a loud sigh, “You guys are the last people who'll ever see me alive, so enjoy the view.”

“Oh,” Jinhwan looks glum, “S-sorry I couldn’t help more.”

“Hey~” Bobby coos, “Don't worry about it, Jinhwan-ie.” He slides over smoothly, arm draping itself over the mopping employee. “You tried right? That’s what matters.” What an opportunist. Junhoe frowns bitterly at the other two, making a mental note to ban them from his funeral.

“I guess I have no choice then,” he sighs, “Hopefully she ends it quick and painlessly.”

Bobby shoots him a good luck, pal accompanied with a crooked wink and Jinhwan, tucked into the taller's side, offers up a grimace and small wave. Somehow Junhoe, throwing a peace sign over his shoulder as he exits, knows their paths will cross again. (He guesses it'll be in hell, but who knows?)

Junhoe turns the key in the lock as quietly as possible, but unfortunately enough, for him at least, you happen to pass by the door the moment he cracks it open. He’s like a deer in headlights.

“Junhoe?”

. “I couldn’t find a pineapple,” he blurts, “But don’t be mad, baby, I literally looked all over the place and no matter where I checked, they just don’t carry them cause they’re out of season and tbh I don’t think I’ve ever even seen a goddamn pineapple in person, but I really tried to find one for you, please please pleeeeeeeease believe me,” he’s literally groveling in the doorway. “Have mercy on me; I’m too pretty to die-”

He squeezes his eyes shut and braces for impact, expecting you to scream or cry or some combination of both.

“Aww~ that’s okay, baby.” Junhoe’s neck cracks his head whips up so fast. “I know they’ve been out of season for a while now; I don’t know why I thought you’d be able to find one.” You shrug nonchalantly, “Sorry, babe.”

Junhoe’s speechless for a second, but when he finds his voice, it’s affronted. “That’s it?? Just ‘sorry?’ No threats against my life? No tears? No beating?”

“Ya!” you flap a hand at him, laughing, “I have never hit you!” A wide smile pulls across his face and he’s glad that he’s somehow managed to avoid being set on fire. Maybe today (at this ungodly hour of 6AM) is his lucky day. He steps fully into the house and walks to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist to cradle the prominent baby bump.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you did,” he grins against your neck, “Baby makes Mommy angry.” He smooths a hand around in gentle circles and hums softly. “Daddy’s ready to take a nap; what does baby say?”

“Aaaaaactually,” you wiggle to turn around, “There is something else I’ve been dying to eat…”

No no no no abort mission. “Spare me,” he groans. He could never say no to you. “What is it this time?”

Two hours later, Junhoe’s bartering with an old lady running the most obscure hippie tea shop he’s ever seen (it’s the only one he’s ever seen).

“No,” he shakes his head in frustration, “ I don’t think you understand.” Junhoe’s lost count of how many times he’s had to explain this story today. “She. will. kill me.”

A/N:

Awwwww~ Junhoe is such a sweetie <3 I have a feeling he’s the type to run out any time of the morning for his wife ^^ ILY JuneBug

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