#soft disaster

• son of a witch •

jeongguk is a business major, but he’s always cared more about photography than the vaunted “stable future” he’s supposedly promised by a business degree. somehow, he’s finagled it so his general education requirement in the arts is a photography class, and he spends more time roaming around the city looking for the perfect shot than studying for his econ or finance classes.

one day, walking through the tunnels of the metro, a busker catches his attention. jeongguk’s not entirely sure what about the man catches his attention—maybe it’s his height or his deep mellow voice or the sweet rounded line of his cheek. whatever it is, jeongguk finds he isn’t satisfied with snapping pictures from afar of how the busker’s skin looks warm even under flickering fluorescent lights.

he finds himself sitting on the ground by the busker, and while he’d intended on snagging an interview as an interesting caption to give dimension to his pictures (humans of new york style, maybe), the way the busker answers jeongguk’s questions with questions of his own makes jeongguk feel like he’s the one being interviewed.

without ever meaning to, jeongguk ends up spilling his entire life story to a stranger, but by the end of the few hours jeongguk’s spent sitting on the cold concrete floor, the busker doesn’t feel like a stranger. he realizes with a jolt that he’s been taking the busker’s valuable time, distracting him from his job with his own personal issues, and he tries to stuff a few bills into the busker’s hand.

the busker hesitates before telling jeongguk that he’ll take the money only on the condition that jeongguk promises to actually talk to his parents about changing his major. if it were anyone else, jeongguk would just try to sneak the money into their pocket and walk away; but for some reason, he feels need to be honest with this man, as if he doesn’t want to disappoint him.

a week later jeongguk returns to the metro station with mcdonald’s, a thick wad of crumpled bills held together with his friend’s hair tie, a new major, and a grin on his face.

ALTERNATIVELY

fansite master jeon jeongguk catches rap mon’s eye. shenanigans and long-distance flirting ensue.

(i think i like the second one better even though it’s two sentences but it’s too late to turn back now)

he’s done it every year since they started dating in high school. from the first cheap trinket to the more elegant jewelry he buys once they’re in college, the routine every year is the same:

namjoon pulls the box out of his jacket (sometimes a windbreaker when they’re out on a chilly picnic, sometimes a blazer when they’re in jimin’s favorite restaurant that they can only afford a few times a year).

jimin pretends to act surprised, trying to hide his smile behind a hand as he says, “what’ve you got there, namjoonie?”

namjoon will slide the box across the table or picnic blanket or maybe their own beaten up kitchen table and say, “why don’t you open it and find out?”

and open it jimin will, and he’ll coo over whatever he finds inside and insist namjoon put it on for him.

finally, after they’ve graduated and settled down and become what jimin likes to call “real grown ups” whenever they have to sit down and deal with bills, they spend a birthday together at home. after their junior year when namjoon learned the hard way that he doesn’t do well with gas stoves, they know well enough to get takeout while they watch jimin’s favorite movie.

afterward, they throw everything away while jimin sings along to the closing song of the movie. he coaxes namjoon into singing with him, and even though joon’s shy about it, he’ll do anything to make jimin smile.

they sit down at their kitchen table with mugs of tea before bed and namjoon pulls out the box, just like he does every year. jimin is prepared for the routine; his lips are already curling up in a smile, a sweet pet name is on the tip of his tongue, when namjoon surprises him.