Yoongi jolts when the hand slams down on the desk in front of him. It’s too early for loud noises, especially when he’s been up half the night stressed out of his damn mind. He looks up and can’t help but gawk at the sight of Kim Seokjin standing over his desk, hair mussed and glasses resting low on the bridge of his nose. There’s that black smudge of eye liner under his eyes, gives the appearance of someone who doesn’t get much sleep. Yoongi could have him up for a detention for that, figures he might look into that if there isn’t a decent reason for this intrusion.
Class isn’t set to start for ten minutes, so they’re the only one’s in the classroom. Seokjin doesn’t make a habit of slamming his hand on Yoongi’s desk for no particular reason and conversation isn’t exactly a commodity either.
‘Got your note,’ Seokjin says. Yoongi opens his mouth to ask what the fuck he’s talking about when Seokjin lifts his hand up, exposing a crumpled piece of paper that Yoongi’s far too familiar with.
‘Mother fuck,’ Yoongi hisses. ‘How the fuck did you get that?’
Of course, he knows how Seokjin got it. Admittedly, Yoongi doesn’t know much about Kim Seokjin, he’s an anomaly and keeps to himself, contrasting with the typical image of a theatre student. He has the bearings of someone who should be popular; good-looking, talented and clever, but his choice of company left a lot to be desired. Rumours about his sexuality ran rampant around the school and there was his habit of hanging out in his locker during breaks. It seems that he’s moved past his own and has also taken to other people’s as well.
‘You sure swear a lot for a class president,’ Seokjin says. ‘You know that?’
‘What are you going to do, tell on me?’
Seokjin scoffs, cocks his head towards the note.
‘You were going to give this to Namjoon?’
Yoongi’s blood runs cold. Seokjin must’ve been in Namjoon’s locker when he garnered the courage to shove the damn thing in there, he must’ve. There’s no other way of explaining it. He swallows hard as he meets Seokjin’s gaze, no-one knows about this. About them and he wants to keep it that way so it’s safe.
‘Please don’t tell anyone,’ he says, not really caring in that moment just how small he sounds.
‘Relax. If I was going to I would’ve done it by now. And yeah, I already knew, I’m not oblivious like Hobi,’ Seokjin says. Yoongi can’t help but frown at that, despite the relief. Hoseok’s a lot of things, but oblivious probably isn’t one of them. ‘But seriously. This is what you were going to give to Namjoon? Dropping the ‘L-word’ for the first time in something like this?’
Jesus Christ. Yoongi looks towards the door, they’re still thankfully alone.
‘Why? What’s wrong with it?’
Seokjin raises an eyebrow and delicately unfolds the note with a lot more care than the creased atrocity probably deserves. He taps his finger on the smudged writing and meets Yoongi’s glare without blanching.
‘Those sure look like the scrawlings of a mad man.’
‘Alright, I see your point,’ Yoongi huffs. He yanks the note back towards him, shoves it into his pocket, out of Seokjin’s line of sight. ‘I’ll rewrite it neater.’
‘It’s not just that,’ Seokjin says. He takes it upon himself to tug a chair out from under one of the numerous vacant desks. Once seated, too close for Yoongi’s comfort, he folds his hands in his lap. ‘Has anyone ever told you that you’re emotionally stunted?’
Yoongi feels his eyes twitch. ‘What the fuck?’
‘I’m not trying to start anything,’ Seokjin says, waving his hands about in a placating manner. ‘I’m just saying there’s probably a better way of saying what you’re trying to say.’
‘Like how?’ Yoongi says, narrowing his eyes.
‘Like…’ Seokjin trails off, looking off into the distance and waving his hands yet again when words fail him. He beckons and when Yoongi hesitates, wondering what the fuck Seokjin is doing, Seokjin grabs the notebook on Yoongi’s desk and a pen and begins scribbling things down.
‘I’ll just write it for you. Gimme a minute.’
Yoongi startles, scrambling to reclaim his stolen notebook but Seokjin switches to another desk, moving out of his reach.
‘Wait,’ Yoongi says, making another grab for the book. Seokjin is quicker than expected, he hisses out a curse. ‘Hold on—’
‘Trust me,’ Seokjin says easily. ‘Romance is my area of expertise.’
Yoongi huffs out a sigh, sinking back into his chair, defeated. ‘I find that hard to believe.’
‘Want me to make you fall in love with me and prove it?’
Yoongi opens his mouth, closes it. ‘No thank you.’
Seokjin’s eyes dance with mirth. ‘Because you know I can do it.’
‘Excuse you, I’m delightful. You just aren’t equipped to deal with me.’
Yoongi can’t argue that. Instead he folds his lips, eyeing the notebook, warily.
‘How do I know you’re not gonna sabotage me?’
Seokjin scoffs. ‘Why would I do that?’
‘Why would you not?’
Yoongi’s not an idiot. He knows Seokjin gets a rough time, and he knows a lot of that stems from people Yoongi would call friends. They never do it in front of him, Yoongi’s made it clear from the get go that it’s not something he condones, but he can’t stop it altogether. Seokjin could hate him for the shit his friends pull, and Yoongi wouldn’t blame him even a little bit.
Seokjin blinks at him a few times, then resumes his writing. ‘Namjoon likes you. Obviously, or he wouldn’t tell Hoseok to shut up when he disses you, or be heart eyes every time you stroll past in the halls.’ He taps his pen into Yoongi’s chest without looking up. ‘You obviously like him too, or you wouldn’t be jeopardising your reputation to see him.’
Yoongi stares at him, Seokjin continues to scribble down on the notebook.
‘Namjoon deserves the best, you’re better than a lot of the people he’s dated in the past, no ill intent. If that changes than I might look at that whole sabotaging thing, but until then…’ Another shrug, Yoongi lets the words wash over him.
‘There,’ Seokjin says, flashing him a beaming smile as he rips the page from his book and folds it neatly. ‘Share that with him, when you meet up with him after school. He’ll be yours forever.’
He slides it across to Yoongi with a wink and gets up from his seat, moving to his spot at the back of the room just as students begin to filter in.
Yoongi takes a deep breath in and slips the note into his jacket pocket, other hand reaching into bag for his phone to text Namjoon to meet him behind the bleachers in their usual spot.
Yoongi has dozens of friends, dozens of people who like him and who he likes in return. But he doesn’t think he has anything close to what Namjoon has in Seokjin and Hoseok.
Yoongi can’t help the nervous fluttering of his hands as Namjoon leans against the bleachers, squinting down at the note Yoongi had all but shoved into his chest when he arrived. It’s nerve-wracking watching him, his expression gives nothing away as his eyebrows knit together.
When he’s finished, he gently folds the note and places it on the desk. Yoongi looks at him up through his lashes, shuffles a little from foot to foot.
‘Well?’ Yoongi says. He hasn’t actually read the note over, presumes it’s just a prettier version of what he’d written down before. ‘Are you going to say anything or just stare at me like that?’
Namjoon’s frowning at him, and that’s really not a good sign. Yoongi swallows the lump in his throat.
‘Seokjin wrote this,’ Namjoon says. ‘Didn’t he?’
‘What? No.’ Pink creeps it’s way up Yoongi’s neck. How the fuck could Namjoon possibly know about this? ‘I don’t even talk to the guy.’
Namjoon raises an eyebrow and Yoongi caves.
‘Alright, fine, he wrote it,’ Yoongi crosses his arms and resists the urge to pout. ‘Fucker was in your locker and stole the original note I’d written. Which reminds me, what the fuck is his obsession with hanging out in lockers?’
Namjoon shrugs. ‘I don’t know, it’s just his thing.’
‘Well, it’s weird,’ Yoongi says. Namjoon just grins at him. ‘He said the note I wrote was shit.’
‘Seokjin wouldn’t say that.’
‘He said it in a roundabout way,’ Yoongi says. ‘I just. He seemed to know what he was doing. And you deserve the best, so I just let him write it.’
‘Yoongi, you’re a great writer,’ Namjoon says. ‘Maybe not the sort of writer Seokjin is, but his is all influenced by playwrights and Shakespearian love declarations. He probably wanted you to say all this out loud. There’s cues written in the margins.’
‘There’s what?’ Yoongi rips the note out of Namjoon’s hands and scrutinises it. Sure enough, Seokjin has written out little flourishes on how the note should be read, he expected Yoongi to cry on demand on the second to last line.
This is what he gets for giving Seokjin any power in this situation, he barely even knows the fucking guy. Theatre-loving dork.
‘You have the weirdest fucking friends,’ Yoongi mutters under his breath.
‘Maybe so,’ Namjoon says, grinning. He leans in, reaches up to rub his thumb across the apple of Yoongi’s cheek. It’s like magic how the skin burns red under the touch.
‘What did you really want to say to me?’
Yoongi turns the question over in his mind, trying to find the best turn of phrase, the words that will really sell it all to Namjoon, but they’re not forthcoming, he’s not a romantic, and he can’t think of the things that Namjoon deserves to hear.
‘I really like you,’ Yoongi says. ‘Like a lot, more than I’ve ever liked anyone before and you’re really amazing and just perfect Namjoon, I don’t think you know just how incredible you are.’
It’s the first time Namjoon hasn’t been able to meet Yoongi’s eyes. Normally he’s the one too shy to function and Namjoon’s the one trying not to coo too much over how sweet he is.
‘I want to be your boyfriend, and you be my boyfriend,’ Yoongi says. ‘Exclusively, you know?’
Namjoon looks up slowly, dimples slowing coming to light as a grin stretches his face.
‘You’re asking me out, properly?’
And just like that Yoongi’s back to floundering.
‘I mean, yeah,’ Yoongi says. ‘Like I know we’re kinda dating already and stuff, and you don’t like labels really, so you can totally say no, I get it. But I just. I like you a lot. A stupid amount okay? And I’ve never wanted to be anyone else’s boyfriend and can you please just say something so I’ll stop talking now, Joon-ah, this is really embarrassing.’
‘Yes,’ Namjoon says and Yoongi just stares at him, lost. ‘Yes, hyung, I’ll be your boyfriend.’
It takes a moment for Yoongi to process the words and when he does he breaks into a grin. Namjoon pulls him in, kissing all over his face until Yoongi laughs for him to stop.