If embarrassment was a state defined by companionship, Taemin was most certainly imbued to embarrassment, as he regarded his best friend with two empty eyes. Gwiboon was drooling – and, okay, so it was metaphorically, yet the down-curl of her lips and the slackness of her jaw would have any sane being composing the conclusion. As she struggled to breathe (and, quite clearly, she struggled, for her exhalations were heavy, rapid and erratic), Taemin raised an eyebrow and sipped at his coffee, waiting for her to speak.

 

Taemin’s gaze followed his friend’s as she slumped back into her seat, mood suddenly deflating, eyebrows thickly slanted. She seemed entrenched by contemplation, and then curiosity, and then desire, as she craned her neck again – not-so-subtly – to glance at the waiter a few tables over.

 

"Definitely,” Taemin agreed, pushing the frame of his thick, black glasses further up the bridge of his nose. Contrary to popular belief, his frames were not simply a fashion-statement, for he was not, intrinsically, a fashionable man. Matching socks and shirts were not in his repertoire, and had he not been saddled alongside the most fashion-conscious woman on the entire planet, he would have happily dressed in a moth-eaten jumper and his slippers. Alas, Gwiboon was as trend-focussed as they came, and had made it her personal mission to cultivate a fashionable man in Taemin – regardless of the cost.

 

"Is he a God?” Gwiboon asked frantically, lowering her head in-tow with her voice, and leaning towards Taemin like a frenzied scientist examining an undiscovered microbe. “Like… ​Oh my God, Taemin.”

 

"He is pretty attractive,” Taemin commented casually, taking another sip of his coffee and allowing the familiar warmth of the liquid to calm his demeanour. Gradient of pink hair hidden beneath a grey beanie, and wiry body in-turn enveloped by an over-sized black jumper, Taemin was the opposite in apparel to Gwiboon, who had her lustrous black hair swept into a messy bun, and wore tight-fitting clothes to showcase her slender frame.

 

"He is a ing God,” Gwiboon reiterated, having completely forgotten about her frappe-latte-whatever-the-hell-it-was-ccino and drumming her long, polished nails from the table-top anxiously. “I want to him.”

 

"Good to know,” Taemin answered sarcastically, observing the throng of customers around them to ensure no stray ears caught on to Gwiboon’s crude verbose. The sensual barrage of coffee, conversation and candid incoherency from the café flowed like flavour dispelled from tea leaves, creating a lilting aroma around the two friends as they (both) watched the waiter with inherent intrigue. “Wait, what about that other guy?”

 

"Hm?” Gwiboon asked, snatching her eyes back to Taemin after once again becoming distracted by the waiter. She brushed a strand of hair from her eyes, somewhat flustered, pursing her red lips and trying her best to remain, for all intents and purposes, calm.

 

"That other guy you wanted to ,” Taemin commented, “you know, that, like, maths teacher, or whatever he was?”

 

"Oh!” Gwiboon exclaimed. “Yeah, yeah.” She peeked back behind her shoulder, to catch another fleeting glimpse of the waiter as he drifted amongst the tide of customers, who talked and coexisted like a prosperous tumult.

 

"Yeah?”

 

"Yeah…”

 

Taemin sighed and sank back into his seat. Gwiboon really was unbearable like this.

 

"He was pretty hot too,” Taemin remarked, the handle of his coffee-mug as he remembered with faint interest.

 

"Mm-hmm…”

 

"Yah! Gwiboon!”

 

Gwiboon jumped in her seat, almost startled at the quiet ferocity of Taemin’s shout. Her eyes widened and her lips parted and for the briefest of seconds she looked somewhat offended, until she realised the perpetrator was Taemin, and that Taemin was (besides Hitler and her last boyfriend) the world’s greatest dickhead.

 

"Sorry- Yes- What? The maths guy? Oh yeah, he was hot. He was-“

 

Gwiboon stopped dead in her tracks as the waiter passed by their table busily, and as she stood on the railway, she allowed the train to flatten her. The waiter was tall, broad-shouldered, and exceptionally defined, with a strong jawline and striking cheekbones. His shirtsleeves were rolled to his elbows, revealing the veins of his imposing, tanned arms, and the apron that was wrapped around his waist only added to his air of efficiency. Crude as he was and shameless as could be, Taemin imagined what the waiter would look like wearing only that tiny, black apron. Dismissing the thought, however, the most ethereal thing about the man was no-doubt his hair, which was a stunning silver, adding glow to his features and expressing a certain eccentricity that was just as handsome as his gleaming smile. It seemed that, somewhere along the line, the man had forgotten what fault was, for he seemed, quite simply, flawless.

 

"You should call him over,” Taemin commented, “ask for a drink or something.”

 

Gwiboon pouted, the waiter now directly in her line of sight, before spitting back, “Are you mad? That is no way to chat up a guy! Christ, Taem’, it’s a wonder you ever get ed.”

 

"Same goes for you,” he handed back, voice hoarsely playful as he his lower lip. “Seriously, every time you see a hot guy it's always the same.”

 

"What do you mean?”

 

Taemin rolled his eyes, before uttering, “You know what I mean.”

 

"No,” Gwiboon interjected firmly, “I do not. What do you mean, Lee Taemin? And cut the bull or I'll cut something else.” She passed him a gaze that was almost threatening.

 

"You're all… ​Oh, oppa, take me, take me! I am so weak, so fragile, so feminine, so- Oi!”

 

Before his onslaught could derail any further, Gwiboon had plunged a dessert fork into his arm rather childishly, point stopped by the fabric of his jumper though still causing considerable impact. He retracted like a bitten mouse, as she glared at him darkly, bottom lip jutted and eyes narrowed slits.

 

"Say that again, ​Taeminnie," she breathed, and had they not been as close as siblings, Taemin probably would have hidden beneath the table. However, as things stood, he simply smirked at her confidently – a child who'd gotten the upper-hand in some immature game.

 

"Besides, you're hardly one to talk,” Gwiboon continued, “you're just as bad as me!”

 

"Ha, that's- that’s unlikely.”

 

 

Taemin’s pointed stare was enough to quieten her as the café continued to lull around them, a pulse that rose just to fade in the background of their exchanges.

 

"I bet you he's gay,” Taemin commented suddenly.

 

Unfortunately for Gwiboon – and it was unfortunate, really – she'd taken such a moment to resume to her frappe-latte-whatever-the-hell-it-was-ccino, and had somehow managed to guffaw so sporadically that she accidentally spat the contents across the table. Several heads turned their way and her loud exclamation of shock was accompanied by the blush in her cheeks, as she wiped a hand across her lips and muttered, “Not a chance.”

 

"He so is,” Taemin jibed, more-so to rile up his now paranoid friend and make her feel, for his simple pleasure, miserable. “Like, you know I have a good sense for these things, right? A gay person can tell another gay person from a mile off, Gwi’, it is practically scientific fact.”

 

"You speak some bull sometimes, you know that?” Gwiboon rebuked, folding her arms stubbornly and clicking the heel of her shoe. No way in hell was the waiter gay, and she was going to prove that, because he was, whether he knew it or not, hers.

 

"I'm telling you now…” Taemin warned, slouching back in his seat. “He is gay as hell.”

 

"You're just touchy because he won't bend over for you,” Gwiboon snapped back, words a viper’s poison as her pitch slightly raised. Competitiveness was stirring in her gut now, the need to state a point and fulfil it.

 

"I wouldn’t want him to,” Taemin mused, “I'd like it the other way.”

 

"Too much information,” Gwiboon declared, “way too much. Besides, I bet you couldn’t handle him anyway. He needs someone young and lively – like me.”

 

"Hm, yeah, because twenty-one is old,” Taemin nodded. “Sign me up for a home now, Gwi’, I'm fading!”

 

"Do you want me to hit you?”

 

"No?”

 

"Then shut up and help me, like- like-“

 

"What?”

 

"I don’t know, get this guy's attention!”

 

Taemin sighed, rolling his neck, before advising, “Next time he walks by just- stop him and ask for a glass of water. Drop a compliment or something. Act casual!”

 

"But, Taem’-“

 

"But what?”

 

"I don’t ​do casual!” Gwiboon’s eyes were frantic as she fixed her hair slightly, rubbing her arms and jittering her knee. “I do, like, seductive and sultry – but I can't bloody well do that in here!”

 

"Hm, too bad,” Taemin sighed, “I guess he's all mine then.” Taemin shifted in his chair to get better perspective of the God amongst them, posture riddled in homely warmth as he clasped his hands atop his lap. Opposite him, outrage had plastered itself across Gwiboon’s dainty features, until she was quite the fixation, eyebrows trying to escape her forehead and lips rounded in protest.

 

"You back the off,” she hissed lowly, “he's mine!”

 

"You don’t own him,” Taemin shrugged, removing his beanie to run a hand through his soft hair. The pinkish strands fell across his forehead in a delicate wave, and, supposing it probably looked quite nice, Taemin kept his beanie removed, hair attracting a few peculiar stares from the café’s other attendants. Taemin didn’t mind, however, for he was vastly used to it.

 

"Well, nor do you,” Gwiboon shot back, “and don't you think you’ve had enough recently? Like, seriously, at this rate you’ve probably slept with half of Seoul."

 

"No I haven't!” Taemin protested.

 

"Oh, really?” Gwiboon questioned, leaning forward and resting an elbow on the table, determination proliferating throughout her like Japanese knotweed. “Because,” she continued, gesturing as if to count, “I could make an extensive list of just how many guys you’ve slept with this past year.”

 

"I'd rather you didn’t.”

 

"First there was that little dancer kid,” Gwiboon began, in complete ignorance to her friend, “Jongin, right? Then there was that guy from the bar, whatever his name was, Ravi or something? – you know, the one with the creepy blonde hair-“

 

“-wasn’t creepy-“

 

“-it was so creepy. And then there was that older guy, who was so freaking old, and-“

 

"-he was legitimately only six years older than me-“

 

"-and so self-obsessed! What was his name? Joo… No, not Joo… Jong? Jong-something?”

 

"Jonghyun?” Taemin provided helpfully, raising an eyebrow at Gwiboon as she snapped a finger.

 

"Yes!” she exclaimed. “Exactly!”

 

Taemin blinked at Gwiboon sceptically.

 

"Three people,” he commented. “That was legitimately three people. And, also- I'm pretty sure your maths professor is older than Jonghyun was.”

 

"But I haven’t ed him yet,” Gwiboon shrugged, “and he isn’t, he has, like, such an angel-face.”

 

"What was he even called?”

 

"Jinki.”

 

"Ah.”

 

A moment passed.

 

"So, okay-“ Gwiboon decided, gesturing firmly as she sought Taemin’s advice, “what do I do here? Call him over, offer a flirt, my number… What do guys like, Taemin? What works?”

 

"Not acting like a besotted fool works,” Taemin commented, “and not spitting your drink everywhere. Just be casual, Gwi’. Okay, look, he's walking over here now, just- Get his attention. You’ve got this. You have.”

 

"I've got this,” Gwiboon breathed, as if on the verge of an epiphany, “I have.” Turning her head, Gwiboon inhaled with brunt determination before opening and meekly calling, “Um, waiter?”

 

He didn’t hear her, and walked right by.

 

"Waiter?” she called again, firmer this time, blushing feverishly given her accidental dismissal.

 

A few metres away, Taemin was surprised the older male had even heard Gwiboon’s weak request, but as he turned, every shred of will to even try resist the waiter’s charm elapsed upon their countenance. Whereas Taemin could remain upright and stoic, a manner obtained from years of experience, Gwiboon was already blushing, dragging a strand of hair behind her ear as she tried to looked anywhere but the waiter’s ardent eye-smile. He sauntered over helpfully, grin beset against his handsome face, before asking, “Can I help you?”

 

His tone was so polite and his voice so dulcet that Taemin almost found himself lost in the man’s large, hazel irises – but it took mere seconds for him to be nailed to the cross of reality again, crucifixion imminent as he noticed the very sudden postural shift in his best friend. She leant forward, lips cocked into a wry grin, chest slightly pushed out and (this was the part that made Taemin inwardly despair the most) her hair twiddled around a long, slender finger. In seconds, she'd morphed from awkward to overly-ual, her entire body language representative of her desires. Resisting the urge to douse himself in his coffee, Taemin could barely watch as Gwiboon began the art of flirtation.

 

"Hi…” she drew out, words thickened with flirtatious sensuality as she batted her long eyelashes at the waiter.

 

"Hi!” he nodded back cheerily, Taemin shrinking further into his seat as Gwiboon sighed melodramatically.

 

"Could you- could you get me some water?” she asked sweetly, widening those beautiful eyes of hers and hoping they'd entrance the waiter.

 

"Sure!” he offered kindly, and he was about to turn away, before Taemin knew it was his chance with the waiter – and if he could aggravate Gwiboon in the process, the prospect was just as irresistible as the man before him.

 

"Sorry,” Taemin interrupted politely, “can I ask you a question?”

 

Glancing around him as if a sheep broke from flock, the waiter shrugged and nodded kindly, with an inspirited, “Go ahead!” Attention now focussed on Taemin, the waiter didn’t notice the resentful glare Gwiboon pointed Taemin’s way – a territorial glare that said ​back the away or else, . Shooting her the subtlest of smirks, Taemin tilted his head and smiled. Though he harnessed an ulterior motive to annoying his friend, it was quite fun, really, to watch Gwiboon squirm.

 

"Your watch,” he commented towards the waiter, “it's just- This probably sounds stupid, but I saw an ad the other day for a watch I loved, but I couldn’t remember the brand or anything and you are literally wearing the exact watch and I was wondering… Do you remember where you got it?”

 

Unbeknownst to the waiter but well seen by Taemin, Gwiboon had her arms folded spitefully and was slowly shaking her head. ​What a cunning, little bastard-

“Oh, this?” the waiter wondered, holding up his wrist and momentarily admiring the watch himself. “I'm afraid I couldn’t tell you – it was a gift from a… A friend. I'm afraid I've no idea, sorry.”

 

"Ah, don’t worry then,” Taemin dismissed kindly, waving a manicured hand. “It's a really nice watch, though, it really is.”

 

"Yeah,” the waiter agreed, “and it works too!”

 

Politely laughing at his joke, Taemin’s eyes glinted with mischief as Gwiboon’s decorum darkened even further.

 

"Anyway, just a glass of water?” the waiter confirmed, after his chuckle had subsided.

 

"Yeah, that's all,” Taemin nodded, “thanks.”

 

The waiter nodded gladly and became immersed into the crowd once again, to retrieve the order with his usual enthusiasm. As soon as he vanished, however, Gwiboon’s words were fiery and her manner brute and coarse.

 

"Lee Taemin you scheming, interruptive, little-“

 

"Gwi’-"

 

“-devil, poking into everyone’s lives and-

 

"Gwi’-"

 

“-rooting around and messing and ruining everything and-

 

“What?!”

 

"He's in a relationship.”

 

Gwiboon halted as her lips turned into a confused sneer, temper dampening as she pressed, “What?”

 

Taemin rolled his eyes, eager to explain the root of his findings.

 

"The watch,” he decided, leaning forward slightly, “I already know the brand, and it's expensive, as hell.”

 

"So?”

 

"So no ‘friend’ gets people watches that expensive! Plus, the way he actually said ​friend-"

Taemin quietened as the waiter returned amicably, presenting Gwiboon the glass of water with a flourish and a smile, which she reciprocated alongside a delicate, “Thank you!” As soon as he'd returned to his cyclic routine, her hardened stare was screwed back on Taemin.

 

"You're just looking into things too much,” she accused. “His mum could have gotten him that, for all you know!”

 

"But it wasn’t his mum,” Taemin countered, “it was his ​friend. Trust me, he's taken. You’ve no chance, Gwi’.”

 

"Bull!” Gwiboon harped back, another round of disturbed customers shooting them angry stares. She lowered her voice in hesitant response before continuing, “You're clearly just jealous because he was obviously more attracted to me than you.”

 

"Yeah, well, no,” Taemin cut down. “Not really.”

 

"Yes, really,” Gwiboon pressed, confidently adding elegance to her posture and elongating her neck. “He was very clearly attracted to me.”

 

"And… How did you reach that conclusion?”

 

Gwiboon swatted Taemin’s arm angrily, before resuming to her proud flaunting, like a peacock displaying her plethora of feathers.

 

"He just- he just gave me that look,” she cased, flicking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You know, the one that says I-really-want-to--you.”

 

"I think it was more what-the--is-she-doing,” Taemin provided, taking a sip of Gwiboon’s water as his eyes somehow travelled back to the waiter, who was busily moving between the cosmopolitan café’s deluge of thriving tables. He was so tall that he walked like some emergent plant, doused serendipitously in the light from the wide, seeing windows. With every smile came another beat in Taemin’s heart, as he struggled to comprehend just how someone could be so instantly attractive, so beautifully defined.

 

"You're just jealous,” Gwiboon chimed, “and now he keeps looking this way. See?”

 

As soon as she commented, the waiter’s head somewhat pointed towards them, but even Taemin, with all his fantasies and wild imaginings, was under no illusion; the waiter’s eyes were simply scanning the room, resting from point to point to ensure the contentment of his customers – as was, coincidentally, his job.

 

"Gwi’, he's just doing his job,” Taemin relayed, much to the distaste of Gwiboon, who prudently pointed her chin upwards, mightier than God in her conquest for notice.

 

"You're meant to encourage me,” she huffed loudly, “not talk me down! You're meant to say nice , like, 'Oh, Gwi’, he'd totally want to date you!' or 'Yeah, definitely, he would you in a heartbeat!'"

 

"Sometimes the truth is easier,” Taemin consoled, ruffling his hair again and quelling the dejected feeling in his own gut. After all, the waiter hadn’t noticed him either.

 

Sighing sadly, mood dissipated, Gwiboon longingly dropped her head into her hands and stared, wanton, after the waiter, who was now chatting idly by a new table. He was so handsome, so strong, so perfect, so able. She could eat him right up.

 

"Stop it,” Taemin mumbled, as Gwiboon glanced back with an abject sneer.

 

"What?” she retaliated, words as snipped as her demeanour.

 

"Eye-ing him,” Taemin answered dryly. "You make it so unbelievably obvious.”

 

"Well, who cares?” Gwiboon responded. “According to you, ​he certainly doesn’t.”

 

Taemin expelled a weary breath. Gwiboon was upset.

 

Again.

 

"Would you please calm down?” Taemin requested, pining for more coffee though knowing the liquid would now be like ice. Outside, to aid his blue feelings, a slow smatter of rain began to kiss the window-pane.

 

"No!” Gwiboon exclaimed petulantly, stamping her foot. “You ruin everything, Taem’! If you weren’t here, this would have gone so much better.”

 

"If I wasn't here,” Taemin evaluated, “you wouldn’t have even talked to him. At least I gave you a chance.”

 

"I so would have,” Gwiboon argued back, passion flaring, “and I wouldn't have asked him stupid things, like… Like about his watch! I would have had class, I would have had poise, I would have had-“

 

"A freaking air of ersion,” Taemin declared, “with a side-order of idiocy.”

 

" you.”

 

"Many want to.”

 

Gwiboon curled out her bottom lip, just as the café door resounded with its opening jingle. Normally, Taemin wouldn’t have glanced at the doorway, but aggravated as he was, he had little other to distract himself with, and so easily regarded the newest customer. His eyes widened exceptionally when he recognised the small, yet muscular, man.

 

"Oh my God,” he breathed, “oh my God, Gwi’.”

 

"What?” she asked, straining her neck around to get a better view of what was causing Taemin’s muted panic. “Oh my God,” she agreed, “is that-“

 

"Yes.”

 

"Oh my God.”

 

"When was the last time you two-“

 

"Like, two months ago.”

 

"Right.”

 

"What?”

 

"Nothing.”

 

"Tell me!"

 

Gwiboon shook her head, and, like Taemin, continued to watch. As the man walked in, he disregarded the empty chairs and tables with a subtle ignorance, instead opting to weave through the flocks of people to the welcoming man that stood in the room’s corner, almost hidden by the looming shadows. The waiter. As the new customer approached, the waiter’s smile doubled in size, and he was practically radiant, every inch of personality one could exude dazzling the very whites of his eyes.

 

"Holy …” Gwiboon breathed, as the small man walked up to the waiter, and, gingerly, planted a kiss on his cheek. With that, they disappeared.

 

Lunch break.

 

For a minute, there was an unprecedented silence, as both friends contemplated what they'd just seen. Then, finally, Gwiboon muttered, “Well, that was-“

 

"So hot,” Taemin interrupted, perched keenly on the edge of his seat with his fists clenched, so much so that the knuckles burnt white. “So, so, ​so hot.”

 

"Taemin, he literally just pecked his cheek,” Gwiboon analysed, “how is that –“

 

"No,” Taemin interjected. “Just think: .”

 

Gwiboon opened quickly, but as soon as she did, the words hitched in , and slowly she clamped them shut again, like some gaping little fish. Her cheeks somewhat flushed and she dug her nails into her palms, and the only thing going through her mind was an obscure plethora of expletives that she could not say in public. She doubted she could even bare to utter them in private.

 

"Aren't you, y’know, jealous, or something?” Gwiboon asked, trying so fundamentally to divert her mind. Her body temperature was rising at the simple mention, however, and she was finding it most difficult to keep her mind straight.

 

"Why would I be?” Taemin pressed back, clearly intoxicated in his own ring of thoughts.

 

"Um, I don’t know,” Gwiboon murmured sarcastically, “maybe because that was freaking Jonghyun?!”

 

Taemin shrugged a shoulder carelessly, before saying, “We just had a few times. I mean, he was amazing, but- Do you think they'd be up for a ?”

 

"With you? God no. With me? Yes.”

 

"Well, you don’t have Jonghyun’s number, so…”

 

"Do you?”

 

"I think so.”

 

"Oh my God.”

 

"I know!”

 

Gwiboon snickered slightly at their immature excitement, their bond so close they could drift from arguments to some form of distressed obsession within mere seconds. Though the world's biggest dickhead, Taemin was also, coincidentally, the world's most fun.

 

"You have got to call him,” Gwiboon stressed, and, as if to add penny to the pound of her point, she placed her hand to her ear as a fake mobile phone. “Hello?” she began to mime. “Is this Kim Jonghyun? Yeah, it's Taemin here, you know how we ed a few times? Yeah. Yeah. Would you be up for a ?” Taemin giggled slightly at Gwiboon’s mockery, before the laughter subsided and left the pair entrenched in their own quiet reflection. So the God was taken, and by nonetheless tham the fine Kim Jonghyun.

 

"Oh, well…” Taemin sighed, slouching in his seat. “Maybe another waiter, another day.”

 

"The hell? I am so not done with him yet,” Gwiboon decided, her conviction provoking wry laughter.

 

"What about Jinki?” Taemin pondered, drumming his fingers against the table-top.

 

"He's still on the cards, I guess,” she shrugged, cracking a smile. Taemin nodded. Typical, typical, typical Gwiboon.

 

"Well, there is one thing we can take from this,” Taemin concluded, placing his beanie back atop his head with considerable care.

 

"And that is?”

 

"I was right,” Taemin smiled. “Not only was he taken, but he was totally gay.”

 

•••

 

 A/N so... First shot, what do you guys think? I wanted to create this collection because people seem to hold the inherent belief that I cannot write fluff, given the stories on my old account were generally quite... Bleak and angsty, so... I wanted to try fluff, for a change, and see what happened >.< and the first thing I created was this. Guys, help, I'm so in love with Gwi <3 my GIRLee bias is forever Minjung, but Gwiboon is just, like, an absolute babe wth~ haha, and I love the dynamic of giving her a friendship with Taemin :3 so I wrote this. I don't normally write GIRLee so this was really fun for me, plus... Let's be honest, Minho is of A+ hotness, right? Like, we gotta appreciate that somehow >_< anyway, thank you for reading, and please leave a comment if there are any particular pairs you want to see or whatever <3 thank you!