“Excuse me, I think you gave me two left shoes.” Hoseok’s attention is torn from the most interesting person in the entire building by an overweight, balding guy in a team shirt. Why someone in a league is renting his bowling shoes, Hoseok has no idea, but he’s too distracted to care.

“Sorry about that. What size was it again?” he asks, hoping he sounds more sincere than he feels. He quickly replaces the guy’s shoes and sprays disinfectant in the pair he’d returned before leaning against the counter with his chin in his palm to watch one of the regulars play.

He’s tall, or at least taller than Hoseok. His hair is dark, almost black but not quite, and it parts on the side, bouncy fringe covering one eye every time he moves his head. His cheeks are round, still retaining the tiniest bit of baby fat. He has petal pink lips that reveal two slightly protruding front teeth when he smiles, a body that looks like it was carved out of granite, solid and hard, and worst of all, he’s actually a really great bowler.

His form is perfect, and he can put a wicked spin on the ball that can pick up a spare on a 7-10 split with almost zero effort. Hoseok watches him knock down pin after pin, strikes and spares nearly every frame. He hasn’t had a perfect game yet, but it’s really only a matter of time.

He’s been coming here for months, every week since the beginning of the fall semester. Now it’s Spring Break in their tiny town, and the kid has come every night this week. He rents size nine shoes and borrows a thirteen pound ball, the sparkly red one if it’s available, and he occupies the far left lane, the one closest to the shoe rental counter, for hours. And Hoseok… he stares.

If the kid weren’t underage, Hoseok might approach him, but he can’t be more than sixteen years old. Hoseok wonders every Monday night why he’s not home doing schoolwork instead of hanging out in a bowling alley alone, but then that’s probably none of his business anyway.

“Nice game,” Hoseok tells him when he returns the ball and shoes. “You’re so close to perfect… and 300, too. I really thought you were gonna get it on that last one.”

“Thanks.” The boy says, blushing and blinking his huge doe eyes at Hoseok, and it’s ing adorable. Hoseok is screwed.

“Maybe next time, eh?”

He nods in response and ducks his head shyly. Yep, screwed.

The boy waves and turns to leave. He’s carrying a backpack, the zipper hanging open wide enough that Hoseok can read the spines of some of the books inside. European History, Botany, and a copy of The Golden Bough… either the kid is in some very advanced high school courses, or he’s older than Hoseok originally guessed. Maybe he’s not so screwed after all.

Jeongguk likes the bowling alley. It's loud, the sounds of heavy balls rolling down the lanes and pins crashing against each other distracting, drowning out the voice in his head that constantly reminds him of all of his shortcomings.

Jeongguk is smart and talented. He does well in school and is capable in a range of other areas including dancing and singing… and bowling, but he's also very driven, competitive. He doesn't want to be good at things; he wants to be the best. Anything less is unacceptable.

Most children feel pressure from their parents growing up to excel in academics, but for Jeongguk the pressure is self inflicted. He forces himself to spend extra hours studying. He practices dance moves until his technique is perfect. He works himself to the bone to get the highest marks on his tests and the highest awards in extracurriculars, and bowling is no exception.

Except that it kind of is.

Jeongguk likes dancing. He likes singing and basketball and most of the other activities he's participated in since he was a small child. He even likes school (except for math), but he truly enjoys bowling.

Originally, he had thrown himself into bowling the way he had always done with whatever he did, not allowing himself to have any fun with it until he was good enough to reap the rewards of his efforts. Then one day after an all night battle with a particularly difficult essay for his advanced English composition class, he showed up at the bowling alley so tired that he struggled to lift the ball properly. He bowled anyway, for hours, hurling the ball down the lane as hard as he could and hitting the gutter more often than the pins, and by the time he was returning his shoes, he was grinning ear to ear. That was when he discovered that sometimes it's okay to have an off day and still enjoy the activity.

Jeongguk still tries his hardest to hit the pins, but now when he bowls, he does it because it's fun, and it doesn't hurt that the redhead at the shoe counter has a pretty smile to show him every time he comes in.

Tonight, the tall boy in the far lane walked in without his backpack, looking lighter than usual, and went right up to the concession counter to order a beer. He showed ID and everything, and Seokjin handed over a little plastic cup with a bit too much foam on top because Seokjin is still figuring out how to work the tap. Now the boy is standing there taking sips between frames, and Hoseok is wishing for his shift to be over so he can go join him.

He glances at the clock. Just fifteen minutes until his relief is supposed to arrive, but Yoongi is always late so he's not counting down the minutes yet. Since there's no one at the counter, he decides to go see if Seokjin got a look at the name on the boy's license.

“Hey Jinnie!” he calls, pulling Seokjin's attention from the battered mushrooms he's just dropped in the fryer.

“What's up, Seok?” Seokjin wipes his hands on his apron as he makes his way to the front of the concession counter.

“The kid who ordered the beer earlier,” Hoseok begins, leaning his elbows on the ancient, cracked Formica. “You catch his name?”

“Ah, something with a J? I don't know. I was really just looking at the date of birth. Either that's a really good fake ID or he's way older than he looks.”

“How old are we talking?”

Seokjin looks up at him over the wire frames of his glasses. “Old enough to drink, obviously. Why so curious?”

“He's, uh, in here alone a lot. Just wondering if his mommy knows where he is.”

“Uh huh. Sure, loverboy. If you say so. By the way, Yoongi is here, and he looks cranky.”

Hoseok glances over his shoulder, and sure enough, Yoongi is glaring at the shoes Hoseok had let pile up behind the counter. “When does he not?” Hoseok sighs and makes his way back to his station.

“Have you done anything since you got here besides stare at Tokki?” Yoongi lets him have it as soon as he's within earshot, but his words stop Hoseok in his tracks, head tilted in confusion.

“What? Who?”

“Tokki,” Yoongi jerks his head toward Hoseok's favorite customer. “Didn't you notice his screen?” Hoseok turns to squint at the screen and sees 토끼 across the top. “It means Bunny.”

“I know what it means, . My parents still speak Korean to me when I call home. Huh. I didn't even know our system supported Hangul.”

“It doesn't. I'm pretty sure he hacked it. Are you gonna clean this up before you clock out or not?”

“That depends. How mad are you going to be if I don't and go talk to Tokki instead?”

“Mad,” Yoongi answers immediately, then, “ but no more mad than I already am, I guess.”

“Are you sure?”

“ off before I change my mind.” Hoseok squeals and does a little dance in front of the counter before making the impulsive decision to hug Yoongi. “Get off me, spaz,” Yoongi grunts, shoving Hoseok away. “Save it for Tokki.”

“Tokki, huh?” Jeongguk startles so badly he nearly drops the ball on his foot. “That's funny. I’d’ve guessed Strike. You know, since you're a perfect ten.”

All the air leaves Jeongguk's lungs like it's been punched out of him when he looks up. The guy from the shoe counter with the pretty smile is talking to him. The guy from the shoe counter with the pretty smile is… flirting with him? Sure, the line is terrible, but it's definitely a line, right?

“Umm… it m-means bunny,” Jeongguk stutters nervously.

“Uh-huh. Do you have a real name? Or was I right? Is it Strike?”

“N-no.” The guy from the shoe counter with the pretty smile laughs. He has a pretty laugh, too. Oh, . Jeongguk doesn’t know how to talk to guys with pretty smiles and pretty laughs, especially ones who use horrible pick up lines and seem to actually be flirting with him.

“No, you don’t have a real name or no, it isn’t Strike?”

“No, it isn’t S-strike.” The guy from the shoe counter with the pretty smile watches Jeongguk and waits, but Jeongguk doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say. His mind went blank right around the time he first heard the guy’s voice. The lopsided grin on the guy’s face spreads slowly until it crinkles the corners of his eyes.

“Okay, Tokki it is. I’m Hoseok. Mind if I sit with you?”

“Uhhhhh… no?”

“Are you sure?” Hoseok teases. “You sound unsure.”

“No. I don’t mind. Do you, um, wanna play?”

“Oh no,” Hoseok waves him off and takes a seat. “I don’t bowl. I just rent the shoes. Besides, you’d just make me look bad. You’re incredi-bowl.”

“Th-thank you?” Jeongguk stands there for a moment, blinking confusedly at Hoseok before shaking his head and turning to pick up his ball.

“Tokki, I've got an idea,” Hoseok interrupts Jeongguk's focus again. “If you can finish the last three frames with all strikes, I'll buy you dinner.”

Jeongguk eyes his screen. This has been one of his best games by far. Seven frames, seven strikes. Five more strikes and he'll have bowled his first perfect game, but last time he had done this well, he'd choked on the eighth frame and rolled his ball right down the gutter… twice.

“But that's a perfect game.”

“It is, and by my calculations, if you bowl a perfect game tonight, you win twice.” Hoseok winks at Jeongguk. Leaning back in the plastic chair with his arms spread across the backs of the adjoining seats, Hoseok looks cocky, but Jeongguk catches a little twitch at the corner of Hoseok's mouth that tells him this confidence is just a front. Hoseok is probably terrified Jeongguk will turn him down.

“If I win twice, what's in it for you?”

“For me?” Hoseok laughs. “I get to buy you dinner. What more could I want?”

Jeongguk's face flushes, and he looks up at the scoreboard again to avoid looking at Hoseok. Five more strikes and he gets a perfect game and a free dinner with the guy from the shoe counter with the pretty smile.

“Deal,” he says, and before Hoseok can respond, Jeongguk hurls the ball down the lane for another strike.

“Wow, Tokki,” Hoseok claps, and for half a second Jeongguk thinks he's going to get a sincere compliment on his bowling abilities, but then, “you've got a good grip on that ball. I'd like to see how you handle two.” Jeongguk watches Hoseok's tentative smile falter when he doesn't immediately laugh. “Sorry, excuse the vulgarity. It's just that you're so hot, my mind's been in the gutter all night.”

Okay, so puns are clearly Hoseok's thing. Whether he honestly finds them funny or they're just a defense mechanism, Jeongguk can't really tell, but he's having a hard time keeping a straight face over the sheer absurdity of the lines.

The pin setter sets up for another frame, and Jeongguk's sparkly red ball pops up in the ball return again. He shakes his arms out to relieve the tension in his shoulders. Positioning himself slightly to the left of the center of the lane, he takes four steps, swings his arm back and then forward, and releases the ball, pointing at the gap between the first and third pins on his follow through. The ball cooperates, smashing into the pins right where Jeongguk is pointing, sending all ten flying in different directions.

“Yeah! Only one more turkey to go, Tokki!” Hoseok shouts encouragingly, and Jeongguk allows himself a moment to appreciate how excited Hoseok is. He's so enthusiastic, his face is glowing like a sunrise, and he's not even the one playing.

The next ten pins go down as easily as the last, and somehow while Jeongguk is focused on his follow through, watching the ball barrel down the lane, Hoseok sneaks up to murmur in his ear, “Twenty pins to go and I'll let you pin me to the bed with your hips.” It's startling, but more because Jeongguk hadn't seen Hoseok coming than because of the words.

Finally, Jeongguk is down to the last ball of the game. His hand shakes as he lifts the ball, and Hoseok is suspiciously quiet behind him. He glances over his shoulder to find Hoseok chewing nervously on his fingernail.

“Hey, Hoseok,” Jeongguk calls, and Hoseok looks up at him like a deer caught in the headlights. “You're un-bowl-lievable.” It takes a few seconds for the words to penetrate, but then Hoseok's lips are stretching, his eyes crinkling, and Jeongguk's face mirrors the smile.

Jeongguk rolls the ball one last time, but before he gets to watch the final pins of his first perfect game fall, Hoseok's hand lands on his shoulder, spinning him around to crash their lips together. It would be the perfect first kiss, too, if Hoseok would stop breaking away to mumble congratulations to Jeongguk.

“Tokki. You did it. Perfect game. 300. You did it. You did it. You did it. So. Proud. Of you.”

“Shut up and kiss him!” someone yells from the shoe counter. Hoseok lifts one of his hands from Jeongguk’s neck to flip the bird at his co-worker, but his other hand grips Jeongguk’s hair, pulling him closer so they can finally kiss properly. He swallows Jeongguk’s sighs and moans and nibbles at his bottom lip. Jeongguk lets his fingers trail up Hoseok’s neck until his face is cradled in Jeongguk’s palms, thumbs tracing Hoseok’s prominent cheekbones.

There are stars in Hoseok’s eyes when they part. “Wow,” he breathes, and Jeongguk nods in agreement. “I, uh… I owe you dinner. Where do you wanna go?”

Jeongguk bends down to run his nose along the smooth skin behind Hoseok’s ear and whispers, “Your place.” Hoseok growls, and the next thing Jeongguk knows, he’s being hauled out the door of the bowling alley, Hoseok’s co-worker yelling after them to return the damn shoes first. Hoseok waves him off with his middle finger again.

“So,” Yoongi says as he waits for Seokjin to make his snack later on, “who’s gonna tell them Tokki actually missed a pin with that last ball?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Yoongi. I saw a perfect game.”