Beomgyu's known Taehyun since they both were in high school and had idol dreams. That then took a staggeringly sharp U-turn in university into interning at design boutiques and then into the beginnings of Vintage Ilaria. Beomgyu's always liked clothes; his grandmother had a carved chest in which she kept old fabrics-pieces of hanboks, all sorts of pos, even a cheongsam-and he liked to touch them, let them breathe their rough, turbulent stories into him. He likes newer clothes too: the whispering sighs and quiet of them, the way they feel like a blank slate.

But this store, with its constant sussurus of old, beautiful garments from far, far places is quite possibly his favorite place in the world.

It's Taehyun's favorite, too. And it's Vintage Ilaria because it's Taehyun who saw the worth of investing in the vintage market. Taehyun's smart like that, and he has an ace in Beomgyu. No one can sell them fakes.

Over the years, they've developed a working dynamic. Taehyun has a great eye for what sells and is aggressive at getting those things; Beomgyu deals with clients and makes the sort of industry relationships that keep them going. They work well together-have, since this store was nothing more than a quiet idea they kept hidden inside an unused closet of a Uniqlo they worked at.

"Literally a closet," Taehyun's saying now, smiling at Beomgyu as he pats down a Dior dress still in its garment bag. "Everyone thought we were banging in there, but we were buying old Vogue and Elle magazines on eBay and cutting out pictures to tape on its walls. It's probably still there."

Soobin bounces gently on his heels. "They wanna do this thing where when they get really famous and, like, Lady Gaga is wearing their stuff, to bring that whole closet here. Like a display."

"It'll be our shrine," Taehyun says, giggling. "So they can worship us."

It's been ten minutes since they've been introduced and Kai looks like he wants to worship Taehyun already. "Wow," he says, sounding awed. "I'm so glad you came out of that closet."

Soobin makes gross heart-eyes. "Me too."

Jimin watches the whole thing with interest, sipping at a box of coconut water, one eyebrow arched as he leans against the banister of the stairs. He's in a ratty t-shirt and drawstring pants, but judging by the amount of double-takes Kai's taken since meeting him, Beomgyu guesses the formidable power of his beauty is in no way tarnished by something as blase as clothes.

"It's like we're waiting for the dragon," Jimin says. He slurps through his straw. "Sharing a last drink, telling war stories..."

"Preparing to offer Beomgyu as the sacrifice," Taehyun's gaze lands on Beomgyu, and his eyebrows furrow. "Hey, sacrifice. Where'd your ceremonial robe go?"

"I sneezed on it."

"You're wearing Pokemon pajamas," Soobin observes. "Is that appropriate?"

"It's pajama hour," Beomgyu defends moodily, picking a small piece of lint off his shirt. "If Yeonjun wanted to see me in my full Gucci glory, he should've picked a better time."

Taehyun consults his watch. "It's been almost twenty-five minutes. He should be here any moment."

Beomgyu can't help the small noise that escapes his throat.

"Unless he got the chocolate waffle cone," Soobin says, with a glance of worry in his direction. "The chocolate waffle cone takes fifteen minutes to make, but it's the best and ice-cream noona always upsells it. So if Yeonjun got that, then you have a window of ten more minutes, hyung."

Taehyun looks at him adoringly. "Why do you say you're bad at math, again?"

Beomgyu tries not to let his itching fingers re-arrange the clothes on the rack for the fiftieth time.He fails and pulls the Valentino skirt out again. It's just thematically ill-fitting, he thinks, even though the construction is very 70s and and there are those sequins and-

"Or the cheesecake fantasy," Jimin adds, walking up to pat Beomgyu's head like he's some sort of small, drenched wildlife. "That one takes around fifteen minutes too. Those ice-cream rolls might take ten, and patbingsu will be definitely longer-"

"I'm okay!" Beomgyu says. "Seriously. Kai said there's nothing to worry about."

"Hyung doesn't like sugar," Kai whispers. "Probably just got water."

Soobin inhales sharply, eyes huge as he stares at Kai. "What kind of monster..."

Beomgyu had made the pull for Yeonjun while Taehyun sent Soobin an SOS. And then Soobin had picked up Jimin on his way, and Kai turned out to live not ten whole minutes away from the store. Most of them are going to be utterly useless for this meeting, but maybe Beomgyu feels a little less like death is imminent with them hovering.

He puts the Valentino back on the rack.

Jimin looks to Taehyun for guidance. "So do we hide now? Is hiding the plan?"

"Oh, oh!" Kai jumps up. "He's almost here."

"It's really weird that you can track him."

"He's old. He doesn't know how to turn off the GPS."

Sure enough, in less than a minute, Yeonjun's pushing open the door, holding a cup of coffee. He looks flushed, pink in his cheeks from the wind outside, and he's frowning at his phone. He places the umbrella back in the stand and walks up to Beomgyu, squinting lightly at his pajamas as he holds out the cup.

"Is that Charmander on your pocket?"

"Charizard."

"That's the angry one then?"

"You seem to know your Pokemon."

"I know a lot of things," Yeonjun shrugs an airy shoulder. "Got you coffee; thought I heard you sniffling earlier."

Beomgyu doesn't drink coffee. But Yeonjun's looking at him expectantly, jerking his hand a little to signal to Beomgyu to just fucking take it, and that gaze is ripping the metaphorical skin off Beomgyu's body...

So maybe Beomgyu will drink this coffee.

"Um. Thanks."

It's as bitter as regret. Beomgyu burns his tongue on the first sip and nearly spits it out. Yeonjun just smirks.

"So let's see it, then."

Beomgyu sort of shrugs his way towards the selection. He's possessed with this ridiculous idea to blurt out that this isn't much. That the sexy little Jax numbers and the Bill Blass dresses Taehyun picked up from auction for nearly 1 million won each isn't anything special. That Yeonjun shouldn't place his expectations too high on Beomgyu or the clothes because they're both just disappointing, superficial dross.

There's a flush rising up Beomgyu's chest and a feverish heat prickling at the back of his neck. Yeonjun's famously discerning eye is surely seeing right through him.

It's a monumental effort to shut himself up. He stands back and lets Yeonjun go through the rack. Watches him pull out a blouse, a minidress, and a gauzy Oscar de la Renta gown that catches the lights above and gleams.

"The rest of it is too bland," Yeonjun mutters. "Vibrant set, dramatic story. Can't have bland."

Beomgyu moves closer, enough that their hands brush when they both reach up to the rack at once. "You think the mini mod dress is bland?"

That dress is all-sequin and magenta. It's what you might expect unicorn puke to look like - weird and blingy and otherworldly- but it's definitely not bland.

Yeonjun's face remains carefully blank, just a twist of his mouth as he points towards that dress. "You think this is what our heroine should wear?"

There's no condescension in his tone. Just flat, clinical disinterest.

Beomgyu feels a stir of something hot and angry in his chest.

Fuck that disinterest. Beomgyu loves these clothes.

"It's not about what I think," he says, and has to pinch himself so he doesn't swivel his hands about like an idiot with how prickly he's feeling. "It's the era. It's the fact that Choi Hae-won, your heroine, is fun and vivacious and rich, about to get caught in a scandal-"

"Hmm. Doesn't inspire."

" You said you wanted original," Beomgyu says, snappish. "Here's original."

There's an impasse, during which Beomgyu swears he can almost hear Jimin withering away to dust somewhere in the back where he and the others are listening in. I just don't get why you two can't get along.

This is why-Beomgyu thinks. Because Yeonjun's far too comfortable with whatever he thinks Beomgyu is to find out what he's actually like.

Yeonjun taps the gold cross pattern on the Jax minidress. "This is too flashy."

Does he want flashy or bland? Is he just trying to rile Beomgyu up? If so, he thinks, it's working quite well in Yeonjun's favor. Beomgyu already wants to scream.

"The Swinging 60s," Beomgyu scoffs, and barely stops himself from rolling his eyes. "The Hippie 70s. Flashy-really? That dress is practically screaming individuality, and that's Choi Hae-won. She's lace and tights and pussy bows, in that 60s dolly girl, boho Lolita style. Very open, very flirty-" Beomgyu's aware his babbling but he can't stop. He can't stop, not with Yeonjun looking at him like that. "-summertime and expensive cars and cherry cocktails. Or a Bloody Mary. Can't really tell. Could be a margarita too- shaken not stirred. But it's sex, sex, sex-it's not flashy, it's-"

"Sexy," Yeonjun looks faintly amused. "Cool. I got it."

"-you did? Okay."

Yeonjun points to the gown. "Alright. What's this one's story?"

Beomgyu wipes a bit of sweat off his brow. It's like he's both hot and cold at the same time. His hair is sticking up, and his heart is still in his mouth. He hates it.

"Um. Plunging neckline, no bra, very unrestrictive. It's high fashion but it's got grunge to it, street cred. Like maybe you'd wear it for a gala but then you'd also hit up a seedy motel with a nameless stranger so he can eat you out-"

Yeonjun's eyes go wide. Beomgyu claps a hand to his mouth, suddenly horrified. It's like a stone has dropped into his stomach, cold and heavy, and looks at the gown in utter betrayal.

Stupid thing. Stupid thing, worn by some stupid starlet, who had a great time in it until it was nearly ripped off her. Everything this stupid dress is whispering is straight up porn, and Beomgyu's filters had somehow stopped working around Yeonjun without him having realized it.

Yeonjun gives a dark chuckle. "This isn't a joke to you, is it?"

"No," Beomgyu waves his hands. "No, I swear-"

"Cool. If that's all you've got for me..."

"Maybe if you gave me more than twenty-five minutes-"

"I guessed you might be good enough to turn it around in twenty-five minutes. Did I guess wrong, Beomgyu-ssi?"

Beomgyu grits his teeth. He'd known this would happen. He'd known that whatever he picked, Yeonjun would react this way. Because Yeonjun thought he was spoiled and rich and hoity-toity about fashion. Just a snobbish socialite with airs. It's why Beomgyu got himself the cavalry. It's why he got himself more than the cavalry: ammunition.

And it's as he tries to blubber his way around Yeonjun's (very, very unfair) question that his ammunition comes walking through the door.

"Beomgyu?"

Beomgyu forces himself to smile wide even as his earlier frustration laps through him in waves. "Taehyung hyung! Hi."

Taehyung spots Yeonjun and brightens like the summer sun. "Yeonjun! Well, hullo! Wow, two of my favorite people in one room-this is a nice surprise."

Yeonjun flashes him a slightly sour smile. "Hullo, Taehyung hyung. What are you-uh-"

"Oh. Jimin called, asked if I could give him a lift if I was still in the studio. Luckily, I was: tech and casting are having all sorts of trouble navigating the international network waters," Taehyung yawns, scratching the top of his head. He looks warm and sleepy, half lost in the enormous coat he's wearing, and Beomgyu feels a bit bad for pulling him into this. Only a bit, though. He knows Jimin's insistence on him working with Yeonjun is at least partly motivated by Taehyung's interest. "This directorial stuff is hard. Anyway, Jimin said his car broke down. Did he-where'd he go, Beomgyu?"

"Slept on the upstairs couch. I'll get him in a few. I was just showing Yeonjun-ssi some options for the pilot, hyung, do you want to see?"

"Oooh. Of course. Isn't this due tomorrow?" Taehyung narrows his eyes playfully. "Not skipping deadlines, are we?"

Beomgyu shakes his head frantically. "If you're okay with the clothes, hyung, I can bring them around for wardrobe first thing in the morning."

"Great!" Taehyung smiles guilelessly at him and Yeonjun. "I'd love to look at them, but Yeonjun needs to give the green. I'm sure he's happy-you're terrific at this stuff, Beomgyu-ah."

Beomgyu beams as Taehyung pats his shoulder. Yeonjun's gaze skits over them both, and his eyes narrow. It seems to take him a few minutes to figure out that Taehyung is waiting for him to say something.

"This shop really is something." Yeonjun's tone is flat, and his eyes snag on the bunches of dried herbs and crystals placed at different corners of the room. "Beomgyu, too."

Taehyung grins adoringly at Beomgyu. "He really knows his stuff-Beomgyu does. I've basically adopted him, you know? My favorite dongsaeng. He's the best, isn't he ?"

Yeonjun sounds slightly choked when he responds. "Yep, he sure is."

"What do you think ?" Taehyung asks, pointing to the sequined magenta dress. "Isn't this absolutely perfect for the Love Motel scene? I'm so excited you two are working together on this project. Anything vintage is instant PR-there's tons of focus and nostalgia on these fashions. And with your name attached to it, and with Beommie's industry clout-all the art blogs and fashion magazines will fall right at our feet. It's just another reason to get picked up by a great network!"

"That's great, Taehyung hyung."

Taehyung looks happily from Beomgyu to Yeonjun. "And then you two can work on the episodes!"

Beomgyu thinks that Yeonjun would rather dig himself into his own grave than work with Beomgyu for a full season of this dumb show. Beomgyu's unsure of how to describe his own feelings as well. Just a week ago, he would have squealed at this opportunity, died several times, made ten thousand social media posts and talked Taehyun into a stupor about how much he loves Choi Yeonjun's work. Now he just feels like a bloated, belly-up goldfish: wide-eyed and dead of emotion.

He can barely look at Yeonjun. He thinks Yeonjun's unconsciously doing a bit of the laser-eyed hot smolder he does sometimes in interviews where he thinks everyone on the panel is stupid. It's a look that's seared into his mind, and he and Taehyun have fanboyed over it and over how unapologetically frank Yeonjun is-but now he thinks it probably has the power of lava.

He doesn't want to look.

When he does take a peek, Yeonjun's looking at him through hooded eyes, searching and heavy. It's kind of exactly like how the jungle cats in those documentaries behave when they spot something tasty and fun to play with.

Fine, Beomgyu thinks. Two can play at that game.

Before he can get his own smolder on, though, the breath is knocked out of him as he's squeezed very hard by Taehyung who's now cooing over the minidress. "Beomgyu-ah, I still love that jacket you gave me for my birthday. You have a great eye. This is so Choi Hae-won. The rebellion. The independence. The sex!"

Out the corner of his eye, he sees Yeonjun winces a bit. Beomgyu tells himself that he's only human: the satisfied glee that spreads through his body cannot be helped.

He bites his lip to hide a smile.

Taehyung crows, "These are perfect. Yeonjun, don't you agree? Perfect."

"Needs a bit of work in terms of layering," Yeonjun says, with a thin smile. "But yes. Sure. Perfect."

"Will I see you both at the studio tomorrow? Yes, yes? I've to go now, so much legal waters to wade through. Can you get Jimin, Beommie ?"

At which point, exactly as it's been scripted, Taehyun pops up at the bottom of the stairs.

"Taetae hyung!"

"Kang Taehyun! I missed you! Get in here!"

And then there's round two of ooh, Taehyung hyung, don't you think this dress is gorgeous and yes, it's perfect, you two have such great pieces always. There's Taehyun, sashaying the Jax, going this one is by a brand that inspired Marilyn Monroe, Beommie thought it captured your heroine well and Taehyung-who understands fashion better than most directors in the industry-getting starry eyed: "Marilyn Monroe, how interesting. Wow, Yeonjun, isn't this an amazing piece?"

"It has a great story, too," Yeonjun says, drily. "Sex, sex, sex. Right, Beomgyu?"

Beomgyu meets his gaze head on; licks his lips slow. "Exactly."

"Yeah, well. Sex sells," Taehyung winks. "So-wardrobe, first thing tomorrow?"

"Ah, hyung," Taehyun says, with a bit of a suppressed giggle that comes out like a cough. "We'll need confirmation. The Oscar de la Renta piece over here-we have an interested customer online already. So. If you two can confirm you want these-"

"We're taking the whole rack, right, ?"

Yeonjun doesn't skip a beat. "Right. It's quite...adequate."

"Brilliant!" Taehyung says, and hugs Yeonjun. Yeonjun returns it stiffly. "So we'll get someone to write you an itemized list and you can put down costs-"

Yeonjun picks out a notepad and pen from his pocket. "I can do that myself right now, hyung, no need for anyone else."

"Oh, great. Taehyun-ah, will you get Jimin please? Gotta run."

Taehyun grabs his arm and starts dragging him towards the staircase."Let's go wake him up, hyung. It'll be fun."

And then they're gone, and it's just Beomgyu and Yeonjun, staring at each other. Yeonjun picks up the magenta dress very slowly, and writes the code of it from the Vintage Ilaria tag onto the notepad.

"Cost?" he asks, with a stiff chuckle.

"Uh-seven hundred thousand."

They take stock of all items on the rack, and then Yeonjun eliminates a few-the Valentino skirt, a Dior blouse, a non-label trouser and blouse combo. At least this time it's fair. Beomgyu wasn't sure if he wanted Yeonjun to pick those anyway.

And then they're done, and Yeonjun hands the receipt over to him. His expression is indecipherable in that blank, serial murderer way. Beomgyu gulps.

"Nicely played," Yeonjun says, and there's a bit of amusement in his tone. "Who told you about Taehyung hyung? Was it Kai?"

There's a small yelp that distinctly sounds like Kai from somewhere directly above them on the second floor. Yeonjun's gaze flicks upward lazily. Beomgyu pushes his hands into the pockets of his pajamas and pretends not to notice. There's a very incriminating message on his phone from Huening Kai that does say Yeonjun indulges Kim Taehyung.

Yeonjun doesn't need to know that.

"This is appropriate enough," Yeonjun says, pointing to the rack. "I'll be in touch to discuss modifications once the sets are up."

"I'll look forward to it."

"Let me know if you have any more sex gowns."

"I'll do that."

"Tell Taehyung hyung I had to leave."

Beomgyu nods. His legs are slowly devolving into jelly, now that the danger has almost passed, and all he wants to do is get back to his apartment and cuddle Blue and sleep.

Yeonjun pauses on his way out to pick a cloche hat off a hat-stand. "This goes well with the magenta mini, don't you think? The era fits. Very Twiggy."

"...yes. That's-exactly. Yes."

"Write this down, too, then." Yeonjun says, quietly. "Goodnight, Beomgyu-ssi."

"Goodnight."

Yeonjun's gaze lingers on the shop and Beomgyu for a few more seconds. Then he raises a hand, grins a sardonic little smile, and leaves.

***

It's the weekend.

Beomgyu's cold gets worse, so he curls up in bed and sends Taehyun to wardrobe at the studios instead. Taehyun comes back with the news that Choi Yeonjun is perfectly civil-at least to him. Very detached and impersonal and professional. Beomgyu frowns and watches Blue's fluffy tail until Taehyun brings him soup.

What the fuck had he done that all the wrath of the Titan is upon him?

Taehyun bounces excitedly and plays with one of Blue's toys while Beomgyu wallows. "Kai got me talking to this guy who has boxes of signed Miriam Haskell jewelry sitting in his Singapore home. Some socialite.Think we can probably get a first dibs viewing."

"Wow, that's great."

"Yep. I'm talking to this dude on the phone, and he's just going, oh, I've got some trinkets and stuff. And then he sends a picture and it's this whole mess of Haskell and I swear my heart just-" he makes an exploding noise that turns into a coo as he leans down to swoop Blue into his arms. "Guy's only in Singapore for the next week or so, I've got to set up a date within that time frame. But then we also have to go to Harajuku, for that big fashion school auction. Do you think you can do that alone, Beommie?"

"Sure. Don't worry about it."

"I'll be on the phone the whole time so you don't cave in and buy every little thing."

"Your lack of faith in me surprises me at times."

"The world is a dark, dark place, Beommie. You're just sweet and gullible," Taehyun says, patting the top of Beomgyu's bed-head. "Yeonjun asked how you're doing."

Beomgyu takes a sip of the soup and grumbles, "Why does he care?"

"Probably just surprised to see me. Asked me where Fairy Boy was. What's that about?"

Beomgyu makes a mournful sound and nuzzles into Taehyun's shoulder. "He thinks I dress like a fairy."

"Like...Puck fairy, or gay fairy?" When Beomgyu only shrugs, Taehyun clutches Blue closer and tries to guess. "One half is offensive and homophobic. Now Yeonjun can't be homophobic because he's out and proud, so he just thinks you're a mischievous little trickster spirit. Which you are."

Beomgyu grabs his heart-shaped pillow and pouts into it. "But Puck is also irresponsible, irritating, and exists mostly for comic relief."

"And you're not any of those things," Taehyun says, bracingly, throwing one arm around Beomgyu's neck. "But you don't need Yeonjun to validate that, do you? Hey. I know something that'll make you feel better."

Beomgyu squints. "Your boyfriend is grossly in love with you and I have a cold."

Taehyun smacks his back. "I'm not sleeping with you, Beommie, holy shit! It's a full moon tomorrow night and Soobin thinks maybe we should try a luck spell."

"Oh, good. Can we cast it on Blue ? Maybe we'll get lucky and he'll stop trying to eat everything including your earmuffs."

Taehyun gives a low cry. "Blue, no. These are my favorites."

Beomgyu reaches for a toy to distract the dog with and nearly spills all the soup.

"Kai wanted to come see," Taehyun ventures, peeking at Beomgyu out the corner of his eye. "The spell thing, I mean. He's very curious, you know, about your clothes voodoo and the witch blog and stuff."

"Hmm."

Taehyun plays with the hem of his shirt. "Soobin is okay with him coming along. Are you?"

"Witchblr is more your thing," Beomgyu shrugs, waving the toy and yelping as Blue jumps for it. "If you want him to come-"

"We do! He's so sweet, Beommie, like an even friendlier version of you. Which I didn't think was possible but he's literal sunshine, and Soobin thinks that's probably good for the spell. You know. Energy wise."

Taehyun follows that up with wiggling eyebrows and a huge shit-eating grin. Beomgyu pauses in his soup consumption, Blue tucked under one arm, and pulls a face at his best friend.

"Is Soobin talking spiritual energy or big dick energy?" Beomgyu muses, and Taehyun kicks his ankle rather viciously. "Because oh boy, Kai radiates both."

Taehyun's eyes sparkle in delight and he pokes gently at Beomgyu's cheek. "Soobin was making some elemental jars to sell on the blog today and he invited Kai over. You know! Because he's so curious. Binnie says we vibe well."

Beomgyu throws him a suspicious glance. "I swear, if this spell thing devolves into a threesome-"

"We'll throw you an invite," Taehyun says, and laughs. "More the merrier."

"Oh, great," Beomgyu deadpans. "You know I hate being left out of your saturnalias."

"Don't be bitter. We'd never leave you out," Taehyun crows, smooches Beomgyu grossly on his cheek. He grabs his sodden earmuffs and spends a whole five minutes sternly instructing Beomgyu to finish his soup. Then he pauses at the door, just for a second, and half-turns, not meeting Beomgyu's gaze. "Oh. Forgot to tell you. Yeonjun might come too."

Beomgyu spits out his mouthful of soup. "What? Taehyunie!"

"Sorry, it was an impossible situation!"

"Kang Taehyun, you get back here."

"Might! I said might!" Taehyun yells as he disappears down the hallway, moving way too fast for Beomgyu in his cold addled state to catch up. "Bye! I love you, Beommie! See you tomorrow night!"

Beomgyu collapses back into the bed, head swimming. He wonders if he's done some cleansing shit wrong. (Soobin is very particular about all that good energy and hates microwaves for that reason.) Beomgyu has to have pissed off the universe somehow. There's no other reason he's saddled here, in bed on a weekend, with a horrid cold and a midnight spell-magic session with three likely-to-bang assholes and a dude who hates his guts.

He thrashes around the bed a bit. Blue ruffs angrily at his toy, chasing it over and across Beomgyu's stomach. Then he just sits there, little body vibrating, and Beomgyu gives him a significant look.

"You won't betray me. Will you?"

Blue tries to bite his nipple.