Work Text:
Beomgyu was making it work.
Or, he was trying, at least. That had to count for something. He was doing well in all his classes, which meant that he got to keep his scholarship. The remainder he was paying for with his part-time job, as well as covering the rent on the world’s shittiest one-bedroom apartment. It didn’t leave a lot of room for petty things like enjoying life. Or even really paying for anything outside the bare necessities, for that matter. He wasn’t like Soobin, who had rich parents that financed his apartment. He wasn’t like Yeonjun either, who’d gotten in on a full scholarship for the dance team.
But he was making it work. He was surviving, counting down the days until he graduated and could get a real job that didn’t consist of serving snooty customers at the local department store. Apparently they’d only hired Beomgyu for his “marketable face,” whatever that meant. Beomgyu didn’t ask.
The department store closed at nine, and Beomgyu made the journey back on foot rather than wait for the bus. The bus was too inconsistent to rely on, and usually full of drunk office workers or ahjusshis that smelled like so much soju Beomgyu felt like he might be tipsy on the fumes. Walking was a much more pleasant experience overall. Especially since the weather was still good, and the evening was mild. Beomgyu sighed as the breeze ruffled his hair. It had been a long day.
Who was he kidding? Every day was a long day. They were all the same, blurring together in an endless stream of classes and work and homework and sleep and classes and work and homework and sleep– with maybe a little socializing, if he could find the time. It didn’t happen much.
Twenty minutes later, he finally arrived home. He put the key in the door and jiggled it a little– the lock was broken, but he hadn’t even bothered to ask the landlord to fix it. The last time he’d contacted the landlord to fix something, the old man had come to look at the burnt-out bulb in the bathroom, taken it with him, and never came back. Beomgyu didn’t even know what kind of bulb it was so that he could replace it himself; he’d resigned himself to peeing in the pitch-black every night. It wasn’t even the worst thing about the apartment.
Beomgyu heard a noise as he was taking his shoes off. He paused. He hadn’t gotten around the corner to turn the lights on yet, so the only light was coming in from the street. He couldn’t quite tell, but it looked like there was something sitting in the shadows.
He blinked. The shape was gone. There was no way that there was actually anything there, he reminded himself, as he resumed taking off his shiny work shoes and lining them up next to his beat-up pair of sneakers. He walked around the corner into the living room and hit the light switch.
There was a man. There was a man in his living room, a rather handsome one. Beomgyu would’ve been grateful to have a hot man in his apartment under pretty much any other circumstances, but he hadn’t invited this man in. He had no idea how he’d even gotten into the living room.
Beomgyu opened his mouth to scream before he could even think about what he was doing. The man, dressed in all black, lunged forward to smack a hand over his mouth. All that came out was a sort of pathetic wheeze. The man’s face was very close to Beomgyu’s.
“Look. I’m not gonna hurt you, just stay quiet for five more minutes and then I’ll leave.”
Beomgyu tried to say something, gesturing so wildly he almost smacked the man in the face, but the hand over his mouth made it impossible to understand him. The man in black blinked at him with gigantic eyes, raising an eyebrow and then twisting both of Beomgyu’s arms behind his back so that he couldn’t move. Beomgyu wailed in pain.
“Hey! No screaming! I literally just said stay quiet. Five minutes, that’s all I’m asking.”
“What the hell are you doing in my house!?” Beomgyu hissed. He really should start screaming again, but the old woman in the apartment upstairs was pretty much deaf. All he’d achieve by doing so was pissing off the man in black.
“Running from the cops, duh. You really should get a better latch on that window. I bet a toddler with a spork could get in if they really wanted to.”
“I would, but the landlord here is shit,” Beomgyu spat back. “Are you going to tell me why you’re on the run from the cops, or are they just going to find my body two days from now when I don’t show up to work?”
“Well, I wasn’t planning on killing you,” the man in black replied. “Although that can certainly be arranged, if that’s what you want.”
Beomgyu thought about it for a second. “Actually, that’s okay too. Just do it fast.”
“Dude.” The man in black raised his eyebrow again. “Are you good?”
“Not really,” Beomgyu said. “I’m a broke college student working a part-time job at a department store where everyone treats me like shit, living in the worst one-bedroom in the world.”
The man in black looked around. He was sort of standing off to one side with both of Beomgyu’s wrists in his hands, Beomgyu’s shoulder blade pressed into his muscled chest. “Now that you mention it, this apartment is awful. You live like this?”
Despite his earlier words, Beomgyu was suddenly filled with indignation. “You’re on the run from the cops! I don’t even want to know what it is you did, by the way, but I don’t think you’re in any position to criticize the way I live. At least I’m making my way in the world as a law-abiding citizen.”
“Yeah, and look how far that’s gotten you.” The man gestured with his chin at the virtually empty living room. “You don’t even have a couch.”
“I have a chair,” Beomgyu said defensively.
“A folding chair. Seriously, dude, maybe you should consider some petty crime, too. I can teach you the ropes.”
“I just said I didn’t want to know,” Beomgyu groaned. “Besides, I can’t get arrested for something stupid. That would definitely lose me my scholarship.”
“What about getting arrested for something not stupid?”
“You’re stupid. Can you get out of my house now?”
“Yeah.” The man in black released Beomgyu’s wrists, and he rubbed his shoulders. They were already sore from carrying his textbooks everywhere, but getting them twisted around like he was an action figure wasn’t helping. The man in black at least had the grace to look chagrined.
“Do I get your name, at least?” Beomgyu asked. “I want to be able to tell my friends that I survived a break-in and fought off a vicious intruder.”
The man in black laughed. “So you can report me to the cops, you mean? No. Good try, though.”
“I’ll give you mine.”
“Why would I want your name?”
“I dunno, so you can tell all your criminal buddies about this super hot guy whose apartment you broke into at nine-thirty on a Tuesday night.”
The man in black considered it for a long moment. “Terry.”
Beomgyu guffawed. “Your name is Terry?”
“Yeah, and what’s wrong with it?” The man in black said, putting his hands on his hips. His shoulders were huge– each bicep was probably the size of Beomgyu’s head. He wasn’t sure whether to be afraid or turned on.
“Nothing, nothing,” he answered quickly. “Sorry. I’m Beomgyu.”
“Alright. Well, thanks for letting me stay, Beomgyu.” The man in black turned around, heading over to the window. He cupped his hands to the glass and looked out, probably checking for cops. He slid the window open. Beomgyu neglected to mention the fact that he definitely hadn’t let Terry stay of his own volition, but those muscles were pretty convincing. For… multiple reasons.
“You can use the front door, you know.”
“Nah. There’s probably cameras out there.”
Beomgyu laughed heartily. “If you think the landlord would be willing to shell out for cameras, you are dead wrong.”
“Hm.” Terry closed the window again, walking past Beomgyu and heading for the door. His shoes didn’t leave a single track, despite the fact that Beomgyu’s floor was hideously dusty. He didn’t own a broom.
“Well, this is where I leave you,” Terry said. “I hope the people at the department store stop treating you like shit.”
“And I hope you straighten yourself out and get away from this life of crime,” Beomgyu replied. “Looks like neither of us are getting what we want.”
Terry chuckled at that. He jiggled the door handle a little, evidently having learned from hearing Beomgyu enter earlier, and then left as quietly as he came.
Beomgyu stood in the middle of his barren living room in silent shock for several long moments. He knew, theoretically, that he should call the cops. It was what Soobin and Yeonjun would urge him to do, if he told them what had happened. It was what an upstanding citizen would do.
Instead, Beomgyu did his best to make sure that the window was latched and went into his bedroom. It was dark in here, too, just the light from the street filtering in through the blinds. He was half-expecting Terry to pop out of the shadows, but of course he was gone. Probably long gone by now, jumping from rooftop to rooftop or scaling buildings like some sort of supervillain. Idly, Beomgyu wondered whose house he’d actually been trying to break into before the cops found him.
He was expecting to not fall asleep for a long time. Admittedly, Terry’s surprise appearance in his living room had given him a good scare. He remembered the adrenaline thundering through his veins, the way he’d frozen up completely instead of calling the cops or screaming for help. Something about Terry’s face seemed trustworthy.
He was a criminal, Beomgyu reminded himself, physically shaking his head to clear it before laying back down on the pillow. All he had was a single pillow and a quilt, but at least it wasn’t winter yet. Hopefully by then he’d have saved enough to get a proper bedspread.
Three and a half years left to go. He closed his eyes.
Several times, he almost told Soobin and Yeonjun. The pair constantly made a point of inviting him out to parties and social gatherings even if he couldn’t go because of his work schedule, and Beomgyu appreciated it. Pretty much the only time they actually saw each other was in-between classes.
“Ugh, my hip hop teacher is trying to kill us,” Yeonjun complained. “You’d think that contemporary would be the killer because of all the jumps and stuff, but no. Professor Jung has us doing so much floor work that my knees are going to be out before I’m twenty.”
“You’re already twenty,” Beomgyu said, mouth full of pasta from the dining hall. It wasn’t exactly quality cuisine, but food was food. Anything that wasn’t ramen was basically Michelin-star fare in his eyes.
“Oh, fuck, you’re right,” Yeonjun said, smacking his forehead. “Fuck, I’m old.”
“You said it, not me.”
Soobin hadn’t spoken much the entire meal, focused on some video he was watching on his phone. He had his earphones in, so Beomgyu couldn’t tell what it was. When he peeked around the table to look he recognized Soobin’s international law professor.
“Late on the lecture, hyung?” Beomgyu asked, poking Soobin’s elbow.
Soobin winced and pulled out one of his earphones. “I missed it. Slept right through class yesterday. I felt really bad, Professor Kim is super nice.”
“Well, at least you’re taking the time to catch up on the material you missed.” Beomgyu had a sneaking suspicion that Soobin was watching the lecture on double speed, based on the way that Professor Kim’s mouth was moving, but it still counted. He was watching the material, at least, even if he wasn’t actually processing any of it. It was the thought that counted. Well, maybe that was true for everyone at the table but Soobin, who’d only gotten in because his parents were rich enough that the school was hoping they might sponsor a new building.
Days turned into weeks, and gradually Beomgyu started to forget that Terry had ever existed. The constant exhaustion didn’t help his memory, and whatever mental space was left was completely occupied by trying to keep his grades up. If he failed even one class he would lose his scholarship.
He’d stopped peeking around the corner into the living room every time he came home. He’d stopped looking into the window on the ground floor every time he walked past his apartment building, just in case Terry had invited himself inside again. He’d stopped jumping three feet in the air every time he saw a shadow that spooked him.
“Did I tell you guys some dude broke into my apartment last month?”
“What?” Yeonjun’s mouth was open so wide Beomgyu could see the rice inside. “A guy broke into your house, and you neglected to say anything?”
“That’s not a house,” Soobin said unhelpfully. “That’s a hovel.”
“Alright nepo baby, keep your unwarranted superiority complex to yourself,” Beomgyu interjected. “I work hard to keep a roof over my head, and I don’t think there’s anything going on in yours.”
Soobin shut up after that. Beomgyu started to tell the story of Terry’s break-in while Yeonjun’s face got progressively redder and redder. By the end of the story, Beomgyu was slightly afraid he was going to explode.
“And you didn’t call the cops?”
“No,” Beomgyu replied. “I figured he’s pretty good at hiding from them anyway, and now he knows where I live. He said he wasn’t planning on killing me, but I’m sure he could if he wanted to.”
Soobin looked like he was deep in thought. It was rare for him. Beomgyu waved a hand in front of his face, and Soobin startled. “Oh, sorry. I was just thinking– maybe you should come live in my spare bedroom, or something. Gotta be better than a building where career criminals go to hide out.”
“Not criminals, just the one,” Beomgyu said. “And besides. I’ve seen the state of your bathroom, I’m not going near that apartment if I can help it. I’m sure that bathroom has even more mold in it than mine.”
“I clean once a month!”
Beomgyu pulled a face. Soobin went quiet again. Even Yeonjun, who had a soft spot for Soobin that was “entirely unrelated to how nice his ass is”, looked pretty grossed out.
“Anyway. I really do think you should get that window fixed, even just for your peace of mind. I doubt he’d come back since those types probably aren’t the kind to visit more than once, but it might help you sleep at night if you know that he won’t be watching you or some creepy shit like that.” Yeonjun shoveled another bite of rice into his mouth.
“I’ve been sleeping much better recently, actually,” Beomgyu said. “It’s kinda like I forget that he exists. He was scary, yeah, but like– I dunno, kinda hot. Scary-hot. You know when you’re so scared that you don’t know if you kinda have a boner a little?”
Both Yeonjun and Soobin stared at him blankly. Then, in unison, “No.”
“Oh. Well now this is kind of awkward.” Beomgyu tried to go back to his lunch, having forgotten that he’d already finished it.
“So you’re going to leave the window the way it is because the burglar-slash-maybe-murderer is hot?” Soobin looked flabbergasted, pulling out his phone. “No, we are looking for new apartments right now. I can’t have you murdered in your sleep because you think with your dick instead of your brain.”
“Bold words from someone who doesn’t have a brain at all.”
That devolved into a fight immediately, and Beomgyu lost. He hadn’t had any time to hit the gym lately, and Soobin had been intent on going at least twice a week because “something something Yeonjun hyung looks good in a tank top.” Beomgyu’s eyes had glazed over and he’d stopped listening after that.
“Gyu, you’ve got to stop letting him beat you. His head is big enough as it is.”
“Hyung!” Soobin whined. “You’re supposed to be on my side!”
“Who said anything about picking sides?” Beomgyu asked suspiciously. Soobin opened his mouth to answer, but Beomgyu held up a hand. “Nope. You know what? Never mind. I’ve decided that I don’t want to know.”
Just when Beomgyu was starting to think that he’d hallucinated the entire encounter with Terry, there was a man outside his door. Beomgyu was on his way home from yet another shift at the department store, and there was someone dressed in a delivery outfit standing outside his building. Beomgyu checked his watch. It was nine-thirty.
“Um… Hello? Can I help you?”
The man turned around, and Beomgyu swore. It was Terry, holding a massive box that was undoubtedly a flat-screen TV. “Oh, there you are. I was starting to worry that you weren’t planning on coming home tonight.”
“Did you steal that from the building?” Beomgyu asked, aghast. “I don’t even think there’s anyone living here that can afford that. Where did you find it?”
“Of course I didn’t steal it from this building,” Terry sniffed. He pointedly did not answer Beomgyu’s second question. “It’s for you.”
Beomgyu blinked several times. “For… me?”
“Yeah. As a thank-you gift for not calling the cops on me that one time.”
“If someone sees that in my living room, I’m going to get the cops called on me. Everyone and their mother knows I couldn’t get one of those without stealing it.”
“Well, good thing it’s a gift then,” Terry said. “Can you open the door now? These key pads are really annoying, you can’t pick them in ten seconds like a standard lock.”
“Why not go through the window again?”
“Because that would definitely look suspicious.”
Beomgyu couldn’t really argue with that one. He should tell Terry to take his stupidly massive flat-screen TV and put it back where he stole it from, but for some reason he was inputting the code and holding the door open as Terry hefted the box and carried it inside. He was still handsome even in a delivery outfit.
“This whole building smells like mold.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Beomgyu replied, jiggling the key in the lock. “I told my friend his bathroom has more mold than mine, but that’s a lie. I know that shit’s growing in the walls.”
“You’re going to die of lung disease.”
“And you’re going to die in prison,” Beomgyu said. “Just– I don’t know. Put that down somewhere.”
“Oh, I didn’t come to just leave it here.” Terry pulled a box cutter out of his pants pocket, slicing the box open in one neat movement. He laid it flat and started to unpack it, sorting the mounting mechanism and all the little screws out on the floor. He was reading the directions with his legs crossed.
“You’re going to install it?”
“Yeah.” Terry shrugged, pulling a drill out of the tool belt that Beomgyu hadn’t noticed out on the relatively dark street. Beomgyu gulped. That was definitely hot. Soobin was going to kill him.
Beomgyu sort of hovered around the living room uselessly while Terry worked, the sounds of the drill echoing in the tiny, empty living room. By the time he was done, Beomgyu had made two bowls of instant tteokguk and had them sitting out on the kitchen counter. He brought them out into the living room meekly.
“Do you want something to eat?”
“Would love it,” Terry answered. “You sit on the chair. I’m already on the floor.”
“No, no! The chair is for– um, guests. You sit, I can just stand and eat.”
“You’re going to block my view of Avengers Endgame if you stand.”
“What?”
Terry hit the button on the remote. The TV powered on instantly, taking up most of the wall. It was already logged into Disney Plus– Beomgyu didn’t pay for Disney Plus. Had Terry logged in with his own account?
“Netflix, Disney Plus, and Prime, all free,” Terry said, as if he’d read Beomgyu’s mind. “Don’t worry, I’m not paying for it either.”
“Burglar, maybe-murderer, and a hacker,” Beomgyu said. “I’ve got a real winner here, haven’t I.”
“Well this winner is about to enjoy Endgame with the super hot guy whose apartment he broke into last month,” Terry replied. “Sit.”
Beomgyu was so speechless that he did. He sat right next to Terry on the floor, the debris from the TV box spread out in front of them. Terry was setting his tteokguk on it like it was a cardboard table, even though it was so low that it was impossible to eat off of. He was picking out tteok with his chopsticks and eating them one at a time.
The movie started playing. The sound quality was immaculate, even though there weren't any speakers that Beomgyu could see. He had a bad feeling that this was now the most expensive item he’d ever owned in his life, even beating out the laptop he’d saved up two years for. Terry looked completely satisfied as the TV lit up his face in hues of blue and silver.
This was ridiculous. Beomgyu was having dinner and a movie with a career criminal who’d broken into his house last month. Soobin would have a meltdown, and Beomgyu had no doubt that Yeonjun would need to be sent to a mental health facility straight away. Why was he doing this? He should be running from the apartment screaming, or at least hiding in the bathroom. He knew what Terry was capable of, but more importantly he didn’t know what else Terry was capable of.
“Wait wait wait, there’s a post-credits scene,” Terry said, holding his very buff arm out. “Sets up for the next movie.”
“I didn’t even watch the first one,” Beomgyu replied. “I had no idea what was going on the entire time.”
“You’ve never seen any of the Avengers movies?”
“No.”
“Dude, you’re missing out.”
Terry followed Beomgyu into the kitchen while he rinsed out the instant tteokguk containers and threw them out, putting the chopsticks in the sink to wash later. Terry had been wearing gloves earlier, but he’d taken them off at some point and Beomgyu hadn’t noticed.
Fingerprints, Beomgyu realized. He hadn’t wanted to leave fingerprints on the TV, or anywhere else in Beomgyu’s apartment. That didn’t explain why he’d taken them off. Maybe he’d realized that Beomgyu was never actually going to grow the balls to call the cops on him. He’d eaten off the chopsticks, anyway, and Beomgyu knew from crime shows about DNA evidence.
Not that the cops would really care about the word of some random college student. If Beomgyu reported Terry to the cops now, all that would happen would be that he’d get in trouble for the very fancy stolen TV now mounted in his living room.
“That was fun,” Terry said. “I’ll see you around, yeah?”
“Will you?” Beomgyu asked apprehensively.
“Yep. You’re still missing a hell of a lot of furniture if you want to call this a real apartment.”
Beomgyu groaned. He was about to become an inadvertent stolen furniture mule for a burglar with really bad taste in movies. There was a reason that Beomgyu had never seen any of the Avengers movies– he’d never felt the slightest desire to watch them. Even if he tried really hard right now, he could barely remember anything that happened. All he could picture was the side of Terry’s face, framed by shadow and illuminated in the light from the TV.
Terry showed up on and off over the next couple of weeks. Sometimes Beomgyu would see him and they would hang out for the evening, and other times Beomgyu would come home after work to find a brand-new set of dishware in the kitchen cabinets or an entire rug spread out on the living room floor. One night, though, Beomgyu walked into his apartment and crashed right into his back.
“Oof. Oh, hi Beomgyu.”
“Terry, what are you– who the hell is that?”
The couch between Terry and the other man crashed to the floor as he lifted his hand in an enthusiastic wave. “Hi! Taehyunnie asked me to help him deliver you a couch.”
“Taehyun?” Beomgyu said incredulously. “I knew it. I knew Terry was a fake name.”
Taehyun sighed. “Goddammit. Okay, well, now you know. Happy?”
“Yeah. Having to call you Terry was killing me slowly.”
“It is actually his name,” the other man piped up. He was tall, taller than Beomgyu, and towered over Taehyun by a good couple of inches. He was also so broad that his shoulders almost took up the entire entryway– which all three of them were currently crammed in, along with what looked like a pull-out sofa.
“And who’s Mister Boobie Man over there?” Beomgyu asked.
Taehyun’s face folded into a horrified expression. “Mister Boobie Man?”
“Yeah. You can’t pretend like those things aren’t massive, I’m pretty sure they have their own gravitational force with the way my eyes are being drawn in right now. Seriously, I can’t look away.”
“Kamal, put your jacket back on,” Taehyun said sourly.
“That’s not my name,” he said. “Well, okay. It’s my middle name. I’m Kai.” He seemed a lot happier than Beomgyu thought a criminal would be, although Taehyun had disproven a lot of the prejudices Beomgyu had carried about criminals.
“You weren’t supposed to tell him that. For God’s sake, jacket! His eyes are going to dry up like raisins from all the staring.”
Kai took the jacket tied around his waist and put it on over his tight t-shirt, finally covering his enormous pecs. Beomgyu blinked. Finally, he was able to actually take in Kai’s face. He was sort of ethereal-looking, with a high nose and sharp cheekbones. He sort of looked like some sort of statue, if they made statues with double D’s.
“You good, Beomgyu?”
“Yeah, sorry.” Beomgyu coughed, looking at Taehyun. “Uh, you guys came here to bring me a couch?”
“Yep. Sorry for not waiting for you to come home, I just memorized the code the last time you put it in the keypad.”
“Not a big deal. It’s not like you couldn’t get in if you wanted to anyways. I’m just glad you didn’t try to put the couch through the window.”
Taehyun and Kai resumed their efforts to haul the couch into the living room. They couldn’t slide it with the rug covering the shitty vinyl flooring, and Beomgyu watched as Taehyun’s back muscles rippled under his shirt. He hadn’t put on the jacket around his waist.
“I’m sweating,” Kai complained, once the couch was finally positioned in front of the TV. “Can I take my jacket off now?”
“No,” Taehyun answered. “I want Beomgyu to be able to hold a coherent conversation tonight.”
Beomgyu felt at least a little shame at that, but honestly. Kai’s boobs were ridiculously large. No one should be built like that– it wasn’t fair to skinny little twigs like Beomgyu with no time to go to the gym.
“Are you both super ripped from all the furniture theft?”
“Yep,” Kai said cheerily. “Met Taehyunnie in middle school, and we’ve been together ever since. He taught me everything I know about… you know. Being a career criminal.”
“It’s… certainly a career choice,” Beomgyu said respectfully. “Why didn’t you guys just become body builders, or something? Seriously, one of my friends is a dance major, and I thought he was ripped.”
“Because if we weren’t career criminals, you wouldn’t have a couch,” Taehyun replied. “What color coffee table do you want?”
“What– what color?”
“Yeah. I could get you walnut, mahogany, maybe a maple? That might look nice with the armchair.”
Beomgyu looked around, flummoxed. “I don’t have an armchair.”
“I know. It’s coming in next week.”
Beomgyu went weak at the knees, flopping back onto the couch. “Taehyun, there’s probably ten million won of stolen shit in my apartment right now. If the cops come here, I’m cooked.”
“Nah,” Taehyun said, sitting down next to him much more gracefully. “I’ve never been caught in my life, and neither has Kai. You’re fine. No one’s going to find anything.”
Kai sat down on Beomgyu’s other side, and Beomgyu looked at them both with his head swiveling back and forth. “Seriously? Between you, no jail time at all?”
“Not even a traffic ticket,” Taehyun said smoothly. “Kai’s almost gotten busted for shoplifting a couple times, but he just acts confused and they let him go.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know where I was supposed to pay for this, I thought it might be at the exit,” Kai said, with wide eyes and a shocked expression. The entire sentence was in English, and suddenly Beomgyu understood. He was foreign. Beomgyu occasionally got foreigners in the department store, but always directed them to someone who spoke better English than him.
“That is pretty convincing,” Beomgyu admitted. “If a customer hit me with that entire sentence I’d be so baffled they could just walk out.”
“Exactly.” Taehyun relaxed back against the couch, plucking at Beomgyu’s button-down. “They make you wear this at the department store?”
“Yeah,” Beomgyu said. “I better not see either of you there, though. I can’t just pretend I didn’t see anything, I’d get fired so fast.”
“You wouldn’t have to pretend, you really wouldn’t see anything.” Taehyun shrugged, and then yawned. He stretched his arms out over the back of the couch, one of them getting very close to draping over Beomgyu’s shoulders. He had to suppress a shiver. Instead of doing something stupid like laying his head on Taehyun’s chest, he jumped up.
“Can I get you guys something to drink? Since you hauled the sofa in, I mean. You must be thirsty.”
“I’m good,” Kai chirped. He gave Taehyun a long side-eye, arms still on the back of the couch. “I bet he’s thirsty, though.”
Taehyun hissed like an angry cat, and Beomgyu turned around as Kai started squealing. He’d be more worried about complaints from the neighbors if the woman in the unit directly above him wasn’t so deaf that Beomgyu had to shout at her every time they met at the mailbox. He got Taehyun a glass of water in one of the fancy cups that had appeared in his cabinets one day and went back into the living room.
Kai was now sitting on one side of the couch, Taehyun right beside him so that Beomgyu no longer had to sit between them. It was kind of a relief, considering that both of their shoulder widths were so large that Beomgyu kind of felt like he squished in the middle despite the considerable size of the couch. Kai was being crushed by Taehyun against the arm so much that he had to cross his legs and hold his hands in his lap.
Taehyun took the glass of water from Beomgyu. Beomgyu’s eyes followed his Adam’s apple as he swallowed, nearly finishing the entire glass in one go. His jawline really was incredible–
Career criminal, Beomgyu reminded himself. Stupidly handsome career criminal, but criminal nonetheless. Taehyun’s perfect face and sculpted muscles were making him think idiotic thoughts.
“See? This would be the perfect time for a coffee table. Mmm, maybe pine,” Taehyun mused. He put the glass between his massive thighs and slung his arm over the back of the couch again. Their legs were now touching, and Beomgyu almost whimpered. He’d always had a thing for muscular dudes, so sue him.
“Are we just going to sit here all night, or are we going to do another job?” Kai asked. He didn’t sound like he minded much either way.
“You’re welcome to go work some more, if you want,” Taehyun replied. “I’ve heard there’s a fancy gated community a half-mile from here, you could go get us a coffee table right now.”
“Nah, I’m good. I will order us dinner, though.”
“Um, shouldn’t I pay for dinner?” Beomgyu piped up. “I mean, because you guys… stole a couch. For me.”
“It’s fine,” Taehyun sniffed. “It’s not like Kai’s family is short on money, he does this for fun.”
Beomgyu leaned forward so that he could see Kai. “You’re a career criminal for fun?”
“Yep.” Kai pulled out his phone, the blue lighting up his face as he opened a delivery app. Beomgyu was more and more confused by Kai as the minutes went by. He seemed young, apparently had a relatively wealthy family. He should be at university like Beomgyu, or maybe in a job his parents got him through nepotism. That was how everyone else Beomgyu knew got by.
“But you guys work your asses off,” Beomgyu said. “You’re always busy.”
“Yep. The city’s rich people don’t get their houses redecorated for free,” Kai replied, still scrolling on the delivery app looking for something to eat. “Damn, all the restaurants around here suck.”
“Redecorated?” Beomgyu asked.
Taehyun chuckled. “We call it surprise minimalism. Very popular among the wealthy, these days. The less you have in your house, the more you have in your bank account.”
“Well, it’s still less in the bank account, if they decide they really need to replace whatever it was we took,” Kai put in. “Is Chinese okay? This place doesn’t look too bad, but it says it’s a forty-minute delivery window. We might be here all night.”
“That’s fine,” Beomgyu said. “As long as you don’t make me watch The Avengers again, you’re good.”
Taehyun stood up and went to the TV stand he’d brought in a few days back. He’d stayed for dinner that night, too, even though it was just ramen that Beomgyu had made with a couple of leftover eggs from his fridge. He came back to the couch with the TV remote.
“Just for that, we’re watching The Avengers again.”
Beomgyu and Kai both groaned.
The next time that Yeonjun and Soobin came over, Yeonjun stopped dead in the entryway with his mouth open. Soobin nearly fell over taking off his shoes. They were both staring at the elaborate living room setup that Taehyun had acquired for him over the course of a few months.
“What the fuck,” Yeonjun blurted. “Did you murder someone and furnish your apartment with the trophies?”
“No,” Beomgyu replied hesitantly. “But… Taehyun might have.”
“Who the fuck is Taehyun?” Soobin asked, having finally gotten his shoes off. He was staring around the apartment in amazement.
“That’s Terry’s real name.”
“The thief?” Yeonjun cried. “He came back?”
“Yeah. A lot of times, actually,” Beomgyu said. He touched the back of his neck nervously. “He said it was a thank-you for not reporting him to the cops that one time, but this kind of seems like overkill now. He brought me a nightstand and a desk for my bedroom, too, so I don’t have to charge my laptop on the ground.”
“Dude.” Soobin spun around to look at him. “Why couldn’t this guy have broken into my apartment instead?”
“Because if he did, it would be to steal something,” Beomgyu said. “Honestly, I think he just feels bad for me. Why else would he be doing all this for some random guy he met four months ago?”
“I don’t know, maybe because he’s deranged,” Yeonjun replied, grabbing Beomgyu and physically shaking him by the shoulders. “Are you out of your mind? Why didn’t you report this to the police? He’s stalking you, keeping eyes on your apartment–“
“I really don’t think he is,” Beomgyu said, cutting Yeonjun off mid-rant. “He just shows up when he has time with– I don’t know, a decorative vase or something. Besides, if I reported it to the cops they would just think I stole all this stuff. I don’t think it would be a great look for my scholarship if I had to spend the next ten years in prison for felony theft.”
“He’s got a point,” Soobin interjected. “Besides, why report him when he’s bringing you free shit? Your house looks nicer than mine now.”
“That’s because you keep yours eternally buried under six feet of laundry and dishes,” Beomgyu said firmly. “Sorry I have a sense of cleanliness that doesn’t just come from the maid that shows up once a week because your mom wants to make sure you’re still alive.”
Neither Yeonjun nor Soobin were complaining once they had sat down on the couch. It was incredibly comfortable, real leather, and Taehyun had shown him how to pull off the cushions and lay it out into a bed. It really was a bit much, but Beomgyu didn’t exactly know what to say. Should he thank him? Did criminals like flowers? Beomgyu didn’t know.
“Uh, so. In theory. Let’s say you’ve got this friend that’s done a lot for you recently. They’ve really helped you out of a tough spot, and you want to thank them, but you don’t really know anything about them or what they like–“
“I like food,” Soobin said. “Just buy a set of macarons and have them shipped to my apartment, or something.”
“No, not you, you moron,” Beomgyu replied, smacking him with one of the decorative throw pillows Taehyun had brought over.
“Is this about the petty thief?” Yeonjun asked.
Beomgyu looked around the living room. “Uh, no offense, but I think we’ve passed the level of petty thief. The couch alone definitely makes it a felony.”
“Not the point,” Yeonjun said plainly. “You like him, don’t you. That’s why you keep letting him come back.”
“Well, it’s not like I can really send him away when he’s standing outside my front door with a stolen KitchenAid stand mixer,” Beomgyu replied, purposefully dodging the question.
Soobin made eye contact with Yeonjun across the couch. “Yep. It’s bad.”
Yeonjun turned to Beomgyu, who was sitting between them. “Look, Gyu. I get it. You’re having a hard time, and here comes this knight in shining armor who spoils you with everything you want and more. It’s nice, it feels good for a little while. But he’s not a knight in shining armor, he’s–“
“Breaking the law, I know,” Beomgyu cut in. “It’s not like I’m deluding myself, here. I can tell that there used to be a cat in the house that this rug belongs in, because I keep getting grey fur stuck to the bottom of my socks.”
“Exactly. He’s a thief, and a liar, and he’s willing to do anything to get what he wants. Can you really trust someone like that in your life?”
Soobin’s words made Beomgyu pause. It wasn’t often that he said anything of intellect, so when he did Beomgyu felt like he had to applaud him a little. “That’s a good point. I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Right,” Soobin said, looking very pleased with himself. “You said it yourself. He breaks the law like they’re little elementary school classroom rules. He’s just not someone that you can rely on long-term. What if he ends up in jail, or something? Then you’d be investigated, too, and you can kiss that scholarship goodbye.”
Beomgyu leaned back on the couch and stared at the ceiling blankly. “I don’t know why he does it, though. Maybe he’s a thief because he didn’t get the chance to do anything else with his life. Maybe his family abandoned him, and he’s had to steal to survive. Maybe he doesn’t know how to do anything else.”
“You already said that he has a big beefy protégé that he brings along for the joyride,” Yeonjun pointed out. “It sounds like he has at least some other options. I mean, look at you! You’re taking a full schedule of classes and working your ass off just to make ends meet. There are other ways to do it.”
“I guess.” Beomgyu sighed. “Maybe I should talk to him. Tell him that all of this has to stop.”
“Okay, but be careful,” Soobin warned. “You never know how someone like that is going to react. He might try to hurt you.”
“No.” If there was one thing Beomgyu was sure of, it was this. “He wouldn’t hurt me, no matter what. If he was going to, he’d have done it the very first night he broke into my apartment.”
It turned out that Beomgyu didn’t have to be the one to say anything. The next time he saw Taehyun, he was waiting outside the apartment building. Beomgyu knew he had the code memorized.
“Taehyun?”
He turned around. He was in casual clothes, jeans and a jacket since the weather was much colder than it was when they’d first met. His cheeks were wind-chilled and flushed. His eyes were bright under the streetlights.
“Beomgyu.”
“What are you doing here?” Beomgyu asked, putting in the code and opening the door for him. “It’s cold out here.”
“I wanted to see you,” Taehyun answered. “To give you something.”
“You can do that without freezing your ass off, though.” Beomgyu jiggled the key in the lock and pushed his apartment door open. It looked exactly the way it had when he’d left that morning, including the sweatshirt still draped over the back of the armchair. Taehyun really hadn’t been inside.
He took off his shoes, and Taehyun did the same. Beomgyu went into the kitchen to make them both tea. His hands were still cold, despite the fact that he’d worn his mittens that day. He didn’t know how Taehyun’s ears hadn’t gotten frostbite. He must not have been standing outside the building for very long– he knew Beomgyu’s schedule, after all.
“Sit,” Beomgyu said, leading them both back into the living room. Usually when Taehyun came he was carrying something in a bag or a box, but there was nothing over his shoulder today. It was just the jacket that he’d left on the hooks near the door.
“I wanted to give you this.” He reached into the pocket of his hoodie and pulled out a sleek velvet box. It was square, about the size of Beomgyu’s palm. He frowned down at it. He recognized the logo; they sold jewelry like this at the department store he worked at.
“Taehyun,” Beomgyu said slowly. “What is this?”
“One last gift,” Taehyun replied. “As a thank-you for not reporting me to the cops.”
“You furnished my entire apartment for free,” Beomgyu pointed out. “I think that’s thank-you enough.”
“Yeah, but I actually bought this one,” Taehyun said. “With real money. From a real job. I don’t know if the clients at the department store still treat you like shit or not, but you got what you wanted. I’m going to– clean up. Have a normal life.”
Beomgyu was speechless. “You are?”
Taehyun nodded. “Applied for an apartment last week. It’s not far from here. It’s not the shittiest one-bedroom in the world, but it’s pretty close.”
“You have to start somewhere,” Beomgyu replied. “I’m proud of you. Really, I’m happy for you.”
Taehyun nudged him with his shoulder. “Open it.”
Beomgyu swallowed. He turned back to the velvet box in his lap, flipping the lid open. He recognized the contents instantly, the delicate silver chain and the T-shaped clasp. It was his favorite bracelet in the department store, the one he was always eyeing every time he walked past the display case. Gently, carefully, he pulled it out of the box and held it up.
“I had Kai do some reconnaissance,” Taehyun admitted. “I hope you like it.”
“I knew it,” Beomgyu said, smacking his knee. “I knew those boobs were too big to be any normal person. He had a mask on so I wasn’t sure, but–“
Taehyun took the bracelet from him and clasped it around his wrist. It fit perfectly, draping over his wrist in a delicate manner. Beomgyu couldn’t even look at it. All he could do was stare at Taehyun.
Taehyun looked immensely satisfied as he pulled away, but then his expression shifted when he met Beomgyu’s gaze. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Taehyun,” Beomgyu said. His voice was brittle. “I’m going to need you to be really honest with me, because otherwise I’m going to start thinking things that aren’t true.”
“It’s probably true,” Taehyun said. “Whatever it is you’re thinking, I mean.”
“Why did you get a regular job? Why did you leave behind the life you knew, the thing you’re so good at? Why ditch it all?”
Taehyun broke eye contact. He looked at his hands in his lap. His shoulders were curled, and for the first time Beomgyu could feel the scant height difference between them. He looked tiny, practically shrinking back into the couch.
“Because once on a Tuesday night I broke into the apartment of the most beautiful man in the world, and he’s– perfect. He’s smart, and hardworking, and principled, and someone like him wouldn’t ever date a criminal. I thought if I cleaned up, if I made something of myself, then maybe…”
Beomgyu reached out and put his hand over Taehyun’s. “Clearly I’m not that principled. We’re sitting on the couch you stole three months ago right now.”
Taehyun laughed. Beomgyu was enchanted by it. Taehyun rarely laughed, and it made his eyes crinkle up at the corners. There was a dimple on one cheek. When he looked up at Beomgyu again, he was still smiling.
“What are you working in?”
“Sales, if you can believe it,” Taehyun replied. “For the company that Kai’s dad owns.”
“Kai’s a good friend.”
“That he is.”
“Good boobs, too.”
“Can we stop talking about Kai? I’m trying to confess to you right now.”
It was Beomgyu’s turn to laugh. “Well, I accept your confession. Although I have to admit I probably still would’ve accepted it even back when you were a career criminal. I guess I’m not as perfect as you think I am.”
Taehyun’s face lit up. It was more joy than Beomgyu had ever seen from him, even when they were watching Avengers Endgame for the twelfth time. “Really?”
“Yeah. That’s not a good reason to go back to thieving, though.”
“No, I mean– you accepted,” Taehyun breathed. He was practically glowing with excitement. He scooted closer to Beomgyu on the couch, their hands still joined. “You– you really like me, too?”
“Well, this one Tuesday, this really hot burglar broke into my house. I thought I was totally gonna get murdered, but then I was like well, if I go out looking at that face, I can die happy. And then it turned out the burglar was actually really nice, even if he lied and said his name was Terry and I had to call him Terry for a month.”
Taehyun laughed. “It really is my English name, you know.”
“I do know, which is what makes it even worse,” Beomgyu replied.
There was a short pause, and then Taehyun pressed his lips together nervously before speaking. “Will you– like, be my boyfriend, and stuff? I don’t know, I’ve never done this before. I’ve never had a boyfriend before.”
“First of all, fuck yes. Second of all, I find it hard to believe that you’ve never had a boyfriend.”
“Not that many people want to date criminals,” Taehyun said. “And I’ve never met anyone that makes me… you know. Want to change. Be better.”
There was another pause. Then, it was Beomgyu’s turn to speak. “That’s a shame. I like you just the way you are.”
He pulled Taehyun in. He seemed hesitant at first, and it was sweet. He was nervous. Beomgyu guided him, placing Taehyun’s hands on his waist and leaning forward so that their lips were touching.
Taehyun made a noise. He surged forward so that they were kissing harder, following Beomgyu’s lead when he started to move his lips. Beomgyu slid his hands up to Taehyun’s chest.
“I knew it,” Taehyun mumbled into the kiss. “You only like me for my boobs.”
“If that was the case, I’d be dating Kai and not you.”
Taehyun pulled away long enough to glare at him before kissing him again, mouth insistent and warm. He smelled good, and his mouth tasted like the tea that was cooling on the stolen coffee table in front of them. Beomgyu sighed into the kiss. He’d been wanting this longer than he’d ever admit, even to himself.
“No more talking about Kai. Ban on talking about Kai for the rest of the night. You’re my boyfriend.”
“You better treat me well, then,” Beomgyu teased. “I’m very easily swayed. By boobs.”
“I will. I’ll take you out to dinner, I’ll bring you flowers at work, I’ll deliver coffee when you’re studying at two in the morning.”
“Gym selfies?”
“If that’s what you want.”
“Done,” Beomgyu said. “You got me. I’m yours.”
Taehyun planted a gentle peck on his lips. “I sure hope so. I did some insanely stupid things for you, Kai had to abandon me in the getaway car more than once. He thought for sure I was gonna end up getting ten years.”
“I thought you just said no more talking about Kai,” Beomgyu said, kissing him again. “You’re my boyfriend.”
“You’re right, you’re right.” Taehyun pulled Beomgyu forward until they were laying next to each other, legs intertwined, cuddling on the sofa. It was plenty big enough, even for two grown men.
“Mmm,” Beomgyu hummed. “This is nice. I like this. I like you.”
“I like you too,” Taehyun murmured. “Really, really like you.”
“I know.” Beomgyu dipped his head so that he could kiss Taehyun’s collar bone peeking out from under his T-shirt. Taehyun made a small, satisfied noise. “Turns out I’m really into a guy who will commit a couple felonies for me.”