Work Text:
Jimin’s soulmate tattoo had always been a source of mild embarrassment and major confusion. Inked in curly, cheerful script just above his left hip, it read: "You’ve got ketchup on your nose."
At first, he thought it was a prank. Then he spent his teenage years utterly paranoid about ketchup. He avoided it like the plague. Fries? Dry. Hotdogs? Only mustard. He once had a meltdown in a burger joint when someone else's ketchup packet exploded in his direction.
His friends teased him relentlessly. “Maybe your soulmate’s a chef,” Yoongi had snorted once. “Or a condiment enthusiast". The rest of his friends laughed, but Jimin remained quiet, brooding over what might happen.
Still, deep down, Jimin found it sort of… endearing. There was something charming about the idea that love would arrive with a splash of tomato sauce and mild humiliation, like an odd cheesy romcom and his prince charming wouldn't need anything more than ketchup to grab his attention. He just didn’t expect it to happen in a convenience store at midnight.
XXX
It had been a long day of rehearsal, and Jimin was craving banana milk and bad decisions. He was halfway through the snack aisle, cradling chips, instant noodles, and yes—after years of resistance—a single, glorious hotdog drowned in ketchup. That’s when he rounded the corner and crashed straight into someone.
The hotdog launched into the air like a tragic hero. Jimin yelped. The stranger gasped. And the hotdog landed with an unceremonious splut on the stranger’s chest.
“I—oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Jimin gasped, mortified. He grabbed a napkin from the counter and lunged toward the guy.
The stranger blinked at him, unfazed. He was tall, wearing an oversized hoodie, and looked suspiciously like a runaway model who’d just rolled out of bed. “It’s okay,” the guy said with a slow, amused smile. “You’ve got ketchup on your nose.” Jimin froze. His brain fizzled. His heart tap-danced. His elbow bumped the chip rack.
“Wait,” he whispered. “Say that again?”
“You’ve got ketchup on your nose?” the guy repeated, now eyeing him with concern. “Are you okay? Did the ketchup hit your brain?”
Jimin stared at him, one hand flying to his face. He wiped his nose and looked at the red streak on his sleeve. “Oh no,” he said. “It’s you.”
The stranger blinked. “Me…?”
“My soulmate,” Jimin said breathlessly. “You just said the words on my skin.”
The guy tilted his head. “Is that a line?”
“No!” Jimin pulled up his hoodie and turned, pointing to the ink on his hip. “Look!”
The guy bent slightly, squinting. “Wow. That’s real.”
“I mean, yeah?” Jimin said, now flustered. “Do you have one too?”
The guy pulled up his sleeve, revealing black ink curled along his forearm: "Do you always hum while shopping for instant noodles?" Jimin’s eyes widened. “I do that.”
“You were doing it literally two seconds ago,” the guy said, chuckling. “I thought it was cute.” Jimin squeaked.
“I’m Taehyung, by the way,” he added, extending a hand. “Possibly covered in your soulmate’s dinner.”
“I’m Jimin,” he said, dazed, as they shook hands. “And possibly in love with your face already.”
Taehyung raised an eyebrow. “Fast mover. I like it.”
They ended up sitting on the curb outside the store, sharing Jimin’s chips and sipping banana milk like it was a five-star date. “So you really avoided ketchup your whole life?” Taehyung asked, grinning.
“I had a system,” Jimin replied solemnly. “But the hotdog betrayed me.”
“I’m glad it did,” Taehyung said. “Otherwise we might’ve passed each other and never known.”
Jimin leaned against his shoulder. “We’d have figured it out. I probably would’ve started humming at you in the rice aisle.”
“True,” Taehyung said. “Your musical noodle shopping habits are very distinctive.”
They both burst out laughing. Later, as they stood to leave, Taehyung looked down at his ketchup-stained hoodie and said, “You know, I think I’ll keep this. Frame it or something.”
Jimin rolled his eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re adorable with ketchup on your nose.”
“Rude,” Jimin mumbled, but he was grinning.
Taehyung grabbed a napkin and gently wiped at Jimin’s face again, slow and soft. “There. Perfect.”
Jimin felt his heart do a somersault. Maybe the universe did know what it was doing. Maybe love really did arrive with snack bags, shared laughter, and a little ketchup on your soulmate’s nose.