The Early Shift | Yoongi x Reader

Second Taste - 1

determined to find the truth, you pay yoongi a visit at his apartment and get more than what you bargained for.

"Hmm. I think we should give Yoongi a call." This is what Sooah suggests, fifteen minutes before the end of your shift. Her full lips are downturned as she cocks a hand beneath her chin, bats you those doe eyes.

The glorious freedom you were fantasizing about disappears in an instant. "Why?"

"Maybe he got into some trouble and needs help."

You decide she's much nicer than you. "Or maybe, hear me out, just maybe, he's decided to skip work today and continue being the inconsiderate jerk he is." You have no such patience for him, but that might be because you still remember the heat of his lips nipping at yours. Or maybe it's because the marks he left on your thighs still remain in faint traces of dark pink.

"Hmm." Sooah doesn't look convinced. "Still, just in case. We have his number already. It'll just take a minute."

You let your nails sink into your palm. "Fine. I guess there's a .0001% chance that something actually tragic is happening." You make for the shop's landline, where all the employees' numbers are saved. You fully intend on handing Sooah the phone. But when you whirl back, she's busy taking an order, with another customer in line behind the current. "Fine," you mutter to yourself. "I'll do it." You hit the call button.

There are a few long rings, by the end of which you're certain that voicemail will pick up. You tune out, listening instead to the bop released a few months ago that Sooah insists on playing at least three times an hour over the speakers. Your foot absently taps along to the catchy beat.

Click. There's some fumbling, and you, only half-paying attention, wait for the robotic voice. Except what you get instead is a hurried, low-toned "yeah."

You blink in surprise, pausing as your brain processes.

"Hello?" The voice is more annoyed now.

"It's me." You say your name.

A sigh. "What do you want?" Translation: why the hell are you calling me?

That tone has the magic ability to spark irritation in you like no other. You're actually thankful for your visceral reaction to it; it squashes any unnecessary nerves that might want to flutter in your stomach. "Hmm, let me think. What do you have every Monday morning? Why might your coworker be calling you?"

There's some more rustling, perhaps a whisper of a curse that you don't quite catch. "Uhh... I'm sick."

"Really. Sick." You enunciate every thick syllable. "Why didn't you tell Mina?"

"Too sick to." The fake cough he manages is the worst excuse you've ever heard. "Can I go now?"

"Yeah, whatever." Your thumb grinds the end call button for a few seconds longer than necessary before you set the phone back into its cradle.

Sooah hands a warmed muffin over before she turns to you. "So? How is he?"

"He says he's 'sick'." You make air quotes, just as the backroom door creaks open.

"Who's sick? Yoongi?" Namjoon, who's scheduled to take over for you, comes out looking concerned. "Is he okay?"

"Yeah, I'm sure he's completely fine."

Sooah frowns. "Hmm, but I don't think he'd just not show up unless something was really going on."

"When he's sick, he tends to forget everything and just stay in bed." Namjoon turns to you. "You're off soon. Do you mind just swinging by his place with some porridge?" That's his go-to; you know because he once did the same for you when you had an awful fever. Remembering that day reminds you that you still owe him one for it. Damn it.

You scratch absently at the back of your neck. "I guess not..." You really can't come up with a single excuse, because you don't have any homework to do tonight nor do you have classes. Plus, if Yoongi's truly ill, you're not about to let him starve to death.

"Great." Namjoon's dimples flash as he pulls out his phone. "His place isn't too far. Here's the address."