More Than Friends | JJK 18+

three☆.｡.:*crisis! crisis! my best friend is hot!

Breakfast? Delicious.

Driving to work with music blasting? Absofuckinglutely.

Arriving at work and seeing your favorite co-worker? Perfect.

Actually working? Absolutely fucking not.

Yumi leaned against the counter of the cafe, her fingers strumming against her lips with boredom. She had been here for one hour and six minutes exactly, and she already wanted to curse the government for making people work for green pieces of paper with old white men on them. Not very attractive white men either, might she add.

Whoever made people and plopped them onto a floating rock in the middle of nowhere needed a stern talking to. This just wouldn't fly.

Unfortunately for Yumi, it had no choice but to fly. She was already clocked in, and her break wasn't until noon. It was only 8:30 AM.

It was atrocious, really. Going without another meal for nearly five hours was preposterous. Who did they think she was—a Victoria's Secret Model? Absolutely not. She did not have the hips for it, not to mention the waist, or legs, or—hey, yeah, the body.

She was in shape—most likely thanks to running to escape the shenanigans of her friends—and she was happy with her body. Her nice, nice body she was sure Jungkook had been eyeing the other day when they were gaming.

How could she keep her nice, nice body if she was made to suffer five hours without food? She didn't know, but she was darned if she wouldn't find out. Through suffering and great trial would she change the strange system in this world, even if only for three extra breaks in her eight-hour shift.

Her coworker—best friend, love of her life, the most beautiful woman to ever grace the earth other than herself—nudged her hip on her way to the expresso machine.

Yumi glanced over at her, exhaling a pained sigh. "Mimi. Please."

Mimi rolled her eyes, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "Three and a half hours left; you can do it."

Mimi had too much faith in Yumi. The latter raised a brow. "No, I most certainly can not."

"You say that every day, and yet"—Mimi grabbed a spoon, pointing it at Yumi—"you do it every day." She stirred the coffee around. "You'll be fine."

"Give me kisses."

"Yumi," she crooned. "That's strictly for after-hours only. You know that, silly goose."

Yumi hated that nickname with a passion. She scowled. "Call me silly goose one more time."

"Silly goose, grab me the frother."

Yumi almost foamed at the mouth with the complete rage threatening to overtake her, but alas. She was on the clock, and violence was strictly prohibited in the workplace.

With the frother in her hand, she stomped over to Mimi. With blazing eyes, she warned, "I'll call you peepee instead of Mimi if you call me silly goose one more time."

"It's a cute name."

Yumi was horrified. "Peepee?"

"No," Mimi cackled, reaching for the frother while Yumi was distracted with her shudders of disgust. "Silly goose is a cute name. My dad used to call me that."

"Yeah," Yumi shot back. "When you were a child. I'm not a child, Mimi; I'm a woman—a complete bad bitch, and I won't be tamed. Especially by a nickname as hideous as silly—" She gagged. "I can't—oh god, I can't even say it."

"You'll survive this, Yumi. Seeing as your a bad bitch and all." She secured a lid on the coffee, holding it out to her. "Table five, please."

"They'll see me vomiting, and we'll scare customers away, and—" Her eyes sparkled with mischief; probably the one time they ever did sparkle. "Oh no, the horror. We might have to close early." She took the cup happily. "See you in five for closing duties. Oh, and I'll need a clean-up near table five in about..." Her tongue hit the roof of her mouth as she concluded, "Two minutes."