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written cus there was a spider in my bathroom at 2 am in the morning I sure as hell wasn't going to go get my toothbrush
---
One doesn’t normally find themselves at a convenient convenience store down the block at two thirty-three in the morning just to buy a single toothbrush and a single tube of toothpaste. You swear you have a good reason. There’s a spider just chilling in the corner of your powder room, and you do not want to go near it. Unfortunately, your toiletries happen to be in that very room.
As much as you would like to vacuum the little shit up, it is very early morning, and your roommate, Mark Tuan, would not appreciate being woken up. (He doesn’t appreciate spiders much either but he does value sleep more.) So, you were off in your pyjama top and harried sweatpants-choosing to grab the necessities.
Except you didn’t take into account the embarrassment you would feel, standing in front of a (really fucking hot) clerk who was definitely judging your choice of fuzzy fox sweatpants and ripped batman shirt. You offer a smile you just know betrays your inner thoughts of dying on the spot, but the clerk just sighs and holds out his hands for the items to scan.
“Look,” you start to explain even if you don’t really need to, as you hand him the items, “I have a good reason.”
The clerk only raises an eyebrow as he takes the toothbrush from your hand. He’s got really nice hands now that you think about it. Oh, but you need to explain for some unexplainable reason. “There’s a spider.”
That came out a lot, a LOT, dumber than you wanted and you and the clerk just start at each other in absolute silence until the two of you burst out laughing like you were being paid in diamonds. Thankfully, the two of you were the only ones in the store and probably within earshot of the entire street. “Okay, I will accept that as a valid reason,” the clerk laughs cutely, not unlike a child. You can’t help but smile back as he continues, “because my brother kills spiders for me too. They could rot in hell for all I care.”
You agree with an empathetic head nod. “Exactly! What do those little shits even do? Sure, they eat bugs, but so do plenty of other animals! And if they have to live, why in plain sight? Can’t they just sit in the cracks so I don’t have to bother looking at them?” The clerk agrees again, handing you your items back. You hand him a bill and wait for change as you continue on your rant against all spider kind.
Even as you put the change back in your pocket, it doesn’t occur to you that perhaps some basic nighttime hygiene and a good night’s sleep is what you need, not until you yawn mid-explanation of your spider discrimination. “I’m sorry, I must have kept you busy,” you apologise whilst still yawning, “it doesn’t look like there’s any other customers but surely you have things to do.”
The clerk thinks for a moment, before beaming at you just as brightly as the sun on the other side of the world. “You know what? I think I can close up early tonight. You’re the only customer I got in like, five hours anyway. I’ll walk you back to your apartment and then head home.”
You smile at him, nodding twice as your agreement. You can prolong your visit back to the spider-infested apartment (an exaggeration on your part), you tell him. So as he closes up shop, he lets you eat one of the snacks he keeps behind the counter while you wait with your toiletries in hand. Somehow, it feels like he’s rushing, especially as you catch him tripping over the back step when he locks the patio door. But you’re not complaining, not when it’s just about three in the morning and you are getting quite sleepy.
When the two of you start your trek back, it’s completely silent, albeit your chewing on the banana chips and his soft breathing. It’s completely peaceful, only the dim streetlamps and the glow of your phone’s flashlight lighting the way. Except, you stumble on one of the cracks in the sidewalk. The clerk loops his arm around yours to keep you steady, and you definitely squeak in surprise. Both of you immediately blush and look away, but your arm never leaves his, not until you’re at the steps of your apartment.
“Hey, I forgot to ask,” you call after him when he gets halfway down the block, “what’s your name?”
“I’m Yugyeom,” he calls back with a big smile and a wave. You smile back, letting his name sink into your sleep-deprived brain. Yugyeom. What a nice name, befitting for the smiley boy who works the night shift at the convenience store.
You resolve to visit that corner shop more often as you head inside and subsequently shriek at a disapproving Mark sitting in the swivel chair, the perfect picture of a disappointed dad. “Now, where have you been?” You drop your hard-earned toothbrush and toothpaste on the floor as you prepare to spill all fifty excuses.
---
One doesn’t normally find themselves at a convenient convenience store down the block at two thirty-three in the morning just to buy a single toothbrush and a single tube of toothpaste. You swear you have a good reason. There’s a spider just chilling in the corner of your powder room, and you do not want to go near it. Unfortunately, your toiletries happen to be in that very room.
As much as you would like to vacuum the little shit up, it is very early morning, and your roommate, Mark Tuan, would not appreciate being woken up. (He doesn’t appreciate spiders much either but he does value sleep more.) So, you were off in your pyjama top and harried sweatpants-choosing to grab the necessities.
Except you didn’t take into account the embarrassment you would feel, standing in front of a (really fucking hot) clerk who was definitely judging your choice of fuzzy fox sweatpants and ripped batman shirt. You offer a smile you just know betrays your inner thoughts of dying on the spot, but the clerk just sighs and holds out his hands for the items to scan.
“Look,” you start to explain even if you don’t really need to, as you hand him the items, “I have a good reason.”
The clerk only raises an eyebrow as he takes the toothbrush from your hand. He’s got really nice hands now that you think about it. Oh, but you need to explain for some unexplainable reason. “There’s a spider.”
That came out a lot, a LOT, dumber than you wanted and you and the clerk just start at each other in absolute silence until the two of you burst out laughing like you were being paid in diamonds. Thankfully, the two of you were the only ones in the store and probably within earshot of the entire street. “Okay, I will accept that as a valid reason,” the clerk laughs cutely, not unlike a child. You can’t help but smile back as he continues, “because my brother kills spiders for me too. They could rot in hell for all I care.”
You agree with an empathetic head nod. “Exactly! What do those little shits even do? Sure, they eat bugs, but so do plenty of other animals! And if they have to live, why in plain sight? Can’t they just sit in the cracks so I don’t have to bother looking at them?” The clerk agrees again, handing you your items back. You hand him a bill and wait for change as you continue on your rant against all spider kind.
Even as you put the change back in your pocket, it doesn’t occur to you that perhaps some basic nighttime hygiene and a good night’s sleep is what you need, not until you yawn mid-explanation of your spider discrimination. “I’m sorry, I must have kept you busy,” you apologise whilst still yawning, “it doesn’t look like there’s any other customers but surely you have things to do.”
The clerk thinks for a moment, before beaming at you just as brightly as the sun on the other side of the world. “You know what? I think I can close up early tonight. You’re the only customer I got in like, five hours anyway. I’ll walk you back to your apartment and then head home.”
You smile at him, nodding twice as your agreement. You can prolong your visit back to the spider-infested apartment (an exaggeration on your part), you tell him. So as he closes up shop, he lets you eat one of the snacks he keeps behind the counter while you wait with your toiletries in hand. Somehow, it feels like he’s rushing, especially as you catch him tripping over the back step when he locks the patio door. But you’re not complaining, not when it’s just about three in the morning and you are getting quite sleepy.
When the two of you start your trek back, it’s completely silent, albeit your chewing on the banana chips and his soft breathing. It’s completely peaceful, only the dim streetlamps and the glow of your phone’s flashlight lighting the way. Except, you stumble on one of the cracks in the sidewalk. The clerk loops his arm around yours to keep you steady, and you definitely squeak in surprise. Both of you immediately blush and look away, but your arm never leaves his, not until you’re at the steps of your apartment.
“Hey, I forgot to ask,” you call after him when he gets halfway down the block, “what’s your name?”
“I’m Yugyeom,” he calls back with a big smile and a wave. You smile back, letting his name sink into your sleep-deprived brain. Yugyeom. What a nice name, befitting for the smiley boy who works the night shift at the convenience store.
You resolve to visit that corner shop more often as you head inside and subsequently shriek at a disapproving Mark sitting in the swivel chair, the perfect picture of a disappointed dad. “Now, where have you been?” You drop your hard-earned toothbrush and toothpaste on the floor as you prepare to spill all fifty excuses.
