Taehyung looks hot, and he knows it. He didn’t change his outfit thirty-five times, currently in skin tight leather pants that make his legs look ten times longer than they are and round his (in ways that rival even Jimin’s perfect apple derriere) for nothing. He also didn’t style his hair six different ways before deciding on the just-out-of-bed with a side of come--me-up messy just for fun. Taehyung has a plan, a goal, a very distinct destination where he wants this night to end.  The end-game? To take home some poor, aimless sap and show him the time of his life, in bed and possibly against the front door of whatever low-budget motel they end up in before reaching the bed (he’s the first to admit he’s not known for his patience).

Hook ups aren’t Taehyung’s thing. They used to be, but he’s bad at them... stalking his bedmate until restraining orders must be filed bad at them. Tonight’s special; he’s celebrating. He’s been promoted. After two years of being the peon, the underdog, the boy Friday, he’s finally earned an official name badge and can be called a company man.  Even more exciting he gets to join his best friend (for all eternity) and roommate at the main branch of the office, and, and, wait for it … He even gets his very own cubicle!

Taehyung giggles with unbridled joy every time he remembers this fact. This very same fact is also the reason Taehyung decides it’s time for a congratulatory . 

They’re facing the crowd--backs leaning against the counter of the bar. Jimin’s on his left, eyes focused on the sea of people in front of them—scoping out possible candidates for the night’s festivities. 

“What about him?” Taehyung’s eyes follow the trajectory of JImin’s pointer-finger.

“Mmm, not bad, not bad. Two shots with no chaser and I’d probably hit that,” Taehyung says a little too bluntly, and Jimin scrunches his face in displeasure. 

“You’ll not be hitting anything while you’re too inebriated to think straight or fight back. How about that guy, the tall one with the big ears and goofy smile?” Jimin turns to face him. 

“Ooh, his hands are so large,” Taehyung replies, openly ogling the tall man. “Mmm, maybe a Long Island Iced Tea and a Shirley Temple. He looks like he’d pound me into the mattress then want to cuddle after.”

Jimin chuckles at the response; it’s their game, their very own litmus test for choosing mister right now. Jimin picks a victim, err,  participant, and Taehyung names the drink that best summarizes the man in bed. When no suitable drink description can be found, a winner is crowned. The lucky man will find himself the center of Jimin and Taehyung’s attention for the rest of the evening or until they figure out his drink. 

Tonight’s victor will get Taehyung. Lucky bastard.

“What about him?” Jimin singles out a man two tables away.

Taehyung’s intrigued by the man’s smoldering, cat-like eyes gracing his tan, oval-shaped face like diamonds sparkling in a crown. The man’s piercing gaze is a mixture of mischief, shyness, and danger--and Taehyung finds himself almost falling under the man’s trance-inducing spell.

“ on the beach,” he answers, eyes fixed on the man curiously.

“Seriously? on the beach? Why?” Jimin questions. 

“Because he looks like he’d enjoy it, having on a beach.” Jimin’s laughter is contagious, and Taehyung finds himself joining in.

He’s been watching Jimin as the man scans the crowd once again. He notices a change in Jimin’s expression. Something, no, someone catches his friend’s attention; Taehyung’s intrigued by the slow knowing smile that’s spreading across Jimin’s cherubic features. His eyes follow Jimin’s gaze, curious as to what has caused the ever-so-pleased facial expression. Well, holy ; he completely understands the mischievous smirk.

The stranger’s beautiful, perfect, with a dancer’s build and a jawline so sharp Taehyung thinks it could slice bread. He takes the man in, contemplating, considering, trying to figure out the man’s -drink. Try as he might, Taehyung’s mind cannot come up with one single drink that nails this man down; he defies definition. 

“We have a winner,” Jimin says with a laugh as Taehyung chugs the last bit of the drink he’d been nursing since they arrived. 

“That we do, my friend, that we do.” Taehyung stands to his feet, eyes set firmly on his prize, only to be dragged back to his seat.

“Not so fast, slugger.” Jimin’s hand is resting on his shoulder, holding him firmly in place. “We need to set some ground rules.”

“Ground rules?” Well, this is new.

“Yes. Rule number one: No kissing. Rule number tw-”

“Unacceptable,” Taehyung cuts his friend off, hands waving in the air. “Look at his lips, Minnie. They’re all smiley and heart-shaped and . There’s no way I’m not at least biting into that.” His tone is determined.

Taehyung’s eyes follow Jimin’s gaze as his friend glances at the smiling stranger once again as though confirming Taehyung’s logic. 

“Okay fine, but there will be no budging on rule number two. No names-”

“But-” 

“No buts. No names, Taehyung. You will not be stalking Mr. One Night Stand on social media.” 

Jimin’s tone reminds him slightly of a nagging mother.

“So, what will I be calling him while in the throes of passion, hey you? Yes, yes, yes, hey you, right there. It’s a bit mood killing, don’t you think?”

“I don’t care if you call him grandpa. NO. NAMES.” 

Taehyung pouts because Jimin’s right, because he’s going to obey; he smiles inwardly and sends a silent thank you to God and the heavens for sending him such a friend. Jimin’s the one person he knows will always have his back. 

“Fine, no names,” he replies somewhat begrudgingly. 

“Good. That’s good. That being said, are you sure you want to do this?” Jimin asks cautiously. 

“It’s been a year, Jimin. I’m good. I’m over it. I promise.” He smiles, but he knows it doesn’t reach his eyes.

Jimin doesn’t look convinced, but he also doesn’t push further and Taehyung is eternally grateful. 

“This one’s drowning in appeal. You think you’ll make it to the hotel or you planning on deflowering him in the taxi?” Jimin arches an eyebrow, mischievous glint in his eyes. Taehyung doesn’t miss the fact that Jimin abruptly changes the topic of conversation. 

“Taxi? Taxi? Have you seen him? It’ll be a miracle if I don’t jump him in a bathroom stall.” His hands are flailing about in a theatrical manner.

“Thirsty, aren’t we?” Jimin follows up his question with a knowing wink.

“Well, it’s been a while.” It’s been a full year to be exact , Taehyung thinks to himself.

“Not sure why you’re doing this, Tae. You’ll just end up with feelings then want to date. You’re not the one-night stand type, but in the spirit of the hunt, I wish you luck. May your prey not run away and may your be ic.” Jimin pats him on the back as he adds, “Also, please don’t get caught. I don’t want to have to explain this to Jin hyung; your brother is scary and already thinks I’m a bad influence. Every time you do something stupid it minimizes my chances of making him fall madly in love with me.”

“Dude, I’m trying to get laid here. Can we not talk about your creepy obsession with my hyung right now?” Jimin at least has the decency to look embarrassed. 

“Sorry. Go get’em tiger,” Jimin says, smacking him on the back hard.

Taehyung takes a deep breath as he stands to his feet. He turns to look at Jimin who is smiling and giving him the thumbs up.

The first thing he notices as he makes his trek across the room to the dance floor, is that the man’s even more breathtaking the closer he gets. Nervous butterflies flutter in his stomach; it’s been a year, one full year, three hundred and sixty-five days since he’s even thought about a one-night stand. He’s happily not counting the one night he got drunk beyond reason and almost jumped Jimin in his own bed (he shudders at the memory). 

If truth be told, he hasn’t needed or wanted to sleep around; Jimin’s always available for cuddles and talks.  Sure, he misses being in a relationship, belonging to one person and knowing that person belongs to him--but his last foray into the land of love did not end well, and he’s not down for more heartache. 

He hadn’t realized he’d been staring until Mr. One Night With No Names looks up and catches him. The man smiles, and Taehyung contemplates turning around and running away. The smile, he thinks to himself, can end wars, cure cancer; and make flowers bloom. It’s bright as the sun when it first rises and chases away the darkness, and Taehyung’s pretty sure if bottled and sold the stranger’s smile could save lives and bring about world peace.

No names, no names, no names. Rule number two is on a loop in his mind; it will be his saving grace, his door from which to escape the warmth of anticipation that’s whispering, telling him this man is boyfriend material. 

Taking a deep breath, he returns the man’s smile before pushing forward. He begins to worm his way through the sea of people; one foot in front of the other, each step brings him closer to his prize. The man’s smile widens (how that is even possible is beyond him) when he is mere inches away. 

“Hi,” the man says with an awkward wave. The voice is light, cheery even, but there’s a hint, a promise of something more, something authoritative and raw hidden in the tone that has the hairs on Taehyung’s arms standing up in anticipation. 

“Hi,” he volleys back. 

The man smirks. They stand silently, eyes roaming, assessing each other; both knowing what the other is looking for, neither wanting to be the first to bring it up. Mr. Sunshine Smile (Taehyung’s newly appointed name for the man) extends his hand, and Taehyung accepts it. The handshake is firm and strong. Long, warm fingers wrap around his palm, and Taehyung fights hard to control the blaze of lust that shoots through him at the contact.

“My name is-” 

“No!” He exclaims, immediately cutting the man off. He mentally face-palms at his overreaction. Smooth Taehyung, smooth. “Uhm, no names, we can’t, uhm…it’s, just no names.” 

“No names, huh?” The man tilts his head slightly, eyes shining playfully, and the butterflies in Taehyung stomach multiply by a million. “Why? Do you not have a name?” 

“I do,” Taehyung’s played this game before, and he’s good. “but tonight, you can call me anything you want.” 

Mr. Sunshine Smile’s eyes go dark. 

They don’t make it to the taxi.

Thirty-Six Hours Later

“Oh my gawd, oh my gawd! Jimin I have my own stapler and pens and paper and look, look-” 

“Tae, calm the hell down; people are staring.” Jimin cuts him off in a firm hushed tone.

Frowning at his friend, he settles back in his chair to survey his new digs. The last several hours have been a whirlwind. Starting with his night of unbridled, untamed passion that left bruises on his skin and his body thrumming with satisfaction that he feels even now.  Ending with him sitting here, next to Jimin, a regular employee with writing utensils and everything. He giggles and ducks his head to his chest when Jimin side-eyes him.

“Sorry,” he whispers.

“I’m looking for Kim Taehyung,” a voice says from behind them. Taehyung turns swiftly and holy  the chair swivels!

“I’m Kim Taehyung.”

 “Ahh, Mr. Kim, it’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Min Yoongi. I’m the director of human resources. I wanted to come down to say hi and give you the schedule for tomorrow’s orientation. Mr. Jung is very excited to have you as his new personal assistant, and I-”

“Personal assistant? Mr. Jung?” Taehyung cuts the man off. “I,” he bows apologetically upon realizing his disrespectful response. “I’m sorry for cutting you off, sir, but I think you’re mistaken. I’ve been hired as a clerical analyst,” Taehyung explains. 

He watches as Min Yoongi looks down at the paperwork in his hand, brows drawn together, then looks back up. 

“You are Kim Taehyung, correct?” 

“Yes, sir. I am.” 

Yoongi reads off his date of birth and ID number, and Taehyung confirms that all the information his correct. 

“Then according to these documents you’ve been hired as Mr. Jung’s personal assistant,” Yoongi says with a gummy smile that crinkles his eyes, making them almost disappear. 

“Uhm-” Taehyung presses his lips together. “Who is Mr. Jung?” 

Yoongi’s smile spreads further across his face. “Mr. Jung is our newly appointed CEO.” 

“Oh,” Taehyung answers almost absent-mindedly, nodding his head as though it all makes sense now. Then it hits him, knocking him completely off his axis. “Wait! What? CEO?!” 

“Yup, congratulations, Mr. Kim. I’m sure you’re exactly the right fit for Mr. Jung.” The man hands him the stack of papers he’s been holding. “Here’s the itinerary for tomorrow.  Orientation starts at eight AM sharp, and the dress is business attire.” 

“Thank you, sir. I will work hard and do my very best.” Taehyung bows to the man.

He looks up to find Yoongi staring at him, and it seems to go beyond the customary assessing the new guy look. Taehyung feels a slight nervous tension build at the intense gaze, but it passes quickly and he happily chalks it up to his overactive imagination. 

“I have no doubt that you will, Taehyung-sshi,” Yoongi replies, and there’s something in his tone that Taehyung can’t quite place. 

Jimin and Taehyung turn to face each other in shocked silence once Yoongi has exited the room.

“H O L Y ! How’d you do that? You just basically went from peon secretary to the CEO’s right hand.” Jimin’s hand is tapping excitedly on his back. 

“I have no idea. You saw the acceptance letter too. Oh, my God, I have to call my mom. She’s gonna die.” Taehyung spins in the chair, lifting his feet off the ground so he can twirl freely.

He’s ecstatic; all his hard work for the past two years has provided a dividend he never saw coming. Learning that he’d been promoted to full-time status was exciting, but finding out he was in the same department as JImin, that was icing on the cake-- but this, this, working as the personal assistant to the CEO, well, that’s like ice cream with all your favorite toppings.

Taehyung plants his feet on the ground when Jimin suggests they go to lunch, stopping his chair merry-go-round. Taehyung’s been patiently waiting for this moment. It was the wee hours of the morning when he’d gotten home, body satiated and brain too numb from pleasure to speech correctly. It was much too late, make that too early, to wake his sleeping roommate only to babble at him incoherently. However, now, now he’s wide awake and giddy with excitement, ready to tell Jimin every single sordid detail about his night of love--from the bathroom stall to the round vibrating bed at the -motel they end in, the place where Mr. Sunshine Smile made all of Taehyung’s ual fantasies come true. 

The cafeteria is spacious, clean, and well lit with ceiling to floor windows that frame the outside landscape. It smells like heaven, and Taehyung’s salivating from all the pleasant aromas hitting his olfactory glands, each fighting to be the dominant scent. He claps his hands together in glee when he spots the Bulgogi kitchen, and if not for Jimin’s hand on his shoulder he’d be jumping as well. 

“Jimin, beef! This cafeteria has beef! Being a company man is the best thing ever.” Taehyung wiggles excitedly as they wait in line.

They choose a booth in the back for privacy but next to the window. The view is beautiful, and it’s the closest they’ll get to outside for the next five hours. 

“Okay, spill,” Jimin says once they’re situated. “I know you’ve been dying to tell me, so let’s hear it.” 

Taehyung smiles brightly; he doesn’t need to be told twice. He scoots his chair forward until his chest is flat against the front edge of the table and leans in, getting as close to Jimin who is sitting directly in front of him as possible. 

“Well…” 

Taehyung begins by talking about the look of hunger that flashed across Sunshine Smile’s eyes when they first met, how the man’s orbs glowed dark and hot with lust that had made Taehyung’s heart flutter. He talks about each kiss, each flick of the man’s long slender fingers, about each bite and the origination of each and every bruise and litters his body. 

“…then he did this thing with his tongue, and it was ing amaz… Holy !” Taehyung’s eyes grow wide, wide, wide, and he’s worried they may pop out and roll on the floor. “Oh my gawd! Oh my gawd! Oh my gawd, Jimin!” 

“What? What? What?” Jimin asks turning his head. 

“It’s, holy …that’s--I can’t believe this is happening to me.” Taehyung sinks in the chair hands covering his face. 

“What the hell, Tae? What’s going on?” Jimin asks. 

“It’s him,” Taehyung answers in a hushed tone. 

“It’s who? What are you talking about?” 

“That’s him,” Taehyung says pointing in the direction of the cafeteria door from his hiding spot under the table. 

“Who, him?” Jimin points and Taehyung kicks him hard, “Ouch, what the , Tae?” 

“Yes, him. Now stop pointing and drawing attention to us,” Taehyung hisses under his breath. 

“Because a grown man hiding underneath a table is inconspicuous? Also, who is he?”

Taehyung rolls his eyes and contemplates kicking his friend again because… who is he?  

“Really, Jimin, really? Who’ve we been talking about for the past twenty minutes?” Taehyung peeps his head above the tabletop slightly. 

“Wait. . Tongue guy?” Jimin’s voice is loud, too loud, and Taehyung wishes he’d purchased Harry Potter’s invisibility cloak on vacation last year because this would be the perfect time to see if it works. 

“Shhh.” Taehyung puts his finger to his lips, “let’s not announce it to the world, okay?” He ducks quickly back under the table when the man turns in their direction.

“Oh , Tae, oh no, no, no, no…this is bad, bad, bad,” Jimin exclaims his voice filled with shock, and Taehyung knows he should be more worried about Jimin’s reaction, but at the moment he’s too busy trying to make himself disappear.

“Oh my God, Jimin, keep it down, please. He’s looking over here.” Taehyung’s begging. 

“I don’t know who your friend is, but the man he’s with is our retiring CEO. Who the did you Taehyung?” Jimin’s words have a mountain-sized pit of fear building in Taehyung’s stomach, and he thinks he may throw up.

“,” it’s all he can think to reply. 

“We need to get out of here,” Jimin says suddenly. “I’m gonna get up and stand as close as I can to the table. Stay crouched and get in front of me; we can try to sneak out the back before he makes it over here. 

Taehyung pushes the chair back and scoots from beneath the table until he’s in front of Jimin and certain that his friend’s body is hiding his. Taehyung duck walks, his body crouched to the ground, from the cafeteria into the hallway--and with each wobbly step he sends a silent prayer to the heavens, pleading with God to let him get out unnoticed.

Escape is the sweetest feeling as they make it through the doors and out of the cafeteria. Jimin