Expensive Boys

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There's a pen sitting on the counter.

It's a small pen, but exquisitely crafted. Gold, silver, and copper colored strands twine together to for a perfect, elegantly smooth surface, easy to grasp as the user signs their name over to the Prada-clad devils behind the check-out counter.

That pen could probably buy three of your apartments.

"We cannot shop here," you stress, staring in horror at the sparse designer racks spread out inside the shop. You can't afford these things for yourself, much less Jungkook. You doubt that the ebony-haired man even understands the significance of brand-name and fashion forward.

Waving as dismissive hand, Namjoon strolls confidently into the modernly-furnished space. "Don't worry about it," says the gorgeous blonde man. "I'll cover this. I can't be associated with a bunch of good-looking guys that dress like the homeless."

It won't be very long, you think, before Jimin hauls out and decks Namjoon in the face before marching off indignantly with his 'homeless' clothes.

An attendant approaches with a smile, which darkens significantly when she fully sees the motley crew Namjoon's dragged in the door.

"May I help you?" she asks through thinly stretched, bright red lips.

Well heck. Who shoved a stick up her butt?

Namjoon points an indicative finger toward the three men who are staring around the shop with wide, curious eyes.

"Hi!" says Hoseok. "Do you sell ice cream here?"

You smother a laugh, giggling harder when Jimin's cheeks flush bright red with embarrassment. He places a hand on Hoseok's shoulder and shakes his head, negating the statement.

"These gentleman need some help," Namjoon intercedes smoothly. "I'll trust you to pick out some designs that look good. They'll need to be fitted and test out the clothes, and I'll approve them. Charge anything we need to this."

He hands over a black credit card.

Wowie.

That card could buy ten of your apartments, and seven of Jimin's.

Actually, that card could buy you.

Tapping Namjoon's shoulder, you give him a cautious smile. "I'm sorry, but is this necessary? They really don't need expensive stuff. I mean, they're not going to be human very long, right?"

When he just stares at you with commandingly blank eyes, you shut your mouth and edge away.

Guess it is necessary.

Out of thin air, three ladies appear, red-painted claws digging into your boys and pulling them off in different directions. Hoseok and Taehyung cheerfully go with the flow, but a nervous hiccup vibrates through Jungkook's chest.

"Wait," he squeaks, reaching for you, but the lady disappears with him into the depths of the shop.

"He's got some serious separation anxiety," Jimin tsks, shaking his head.

"Jimin," you reply. "If you were a human who suddenly turned into a fish, would you swim out into the deep ocean? Or stay close to the shore, where things are familiar?"

"What do you mean?" He scratches his head in confusion.

"I'm familiar to Jungkook," you stress. "And this..." You throw a lazy hand out toward the store. "This isn't."

He doesn't know what any of this is. It's all a big, confusing mass of chaotic human interaction that the poor part-rabbit has no experience with.

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