#the second otp

I very much hope this isn’t angsty enough to rip your heart out OTL I’m super glad you’re digging it though!! 

high school AU, sugamon

(3k, implied/referenced homophobia, implied emotional abuse, secret relationship, sexual references) 

Part of my ongoing, non-linear  High School AU series

- 5th June, 2011    -          2nd December, 2010    -     21st October, 2011 -- 20th June, 2011       -        1st January, 2011       -       7th July, 2011 -

7th July, 2011

There has never a moment in Yoongi and Hoseok’s lives where they have liked each other.

Tolerated? Sure, to save face in front of their parents, who’ve long since given up on trying to make them into best friends, but stand firm on the fact that they are not allowed to cuss each other out. Yoongi keeps his snide remarks to a minimum in order to spare his shins from his mother’s reprimanding kicks. Hoseok does the same to avoid a swat on the shoulder from either one of his parents. They’ll pass each other dishes, say please and thank you, if they’re feeling agreeable, but it’s simply a fact that the pair of them will never be friends.

Yoongi’s lucky this time round. The dinner’s being held at his place, which means after his mother has served dessert, he can slink off to his room with only a stern look from her as consequence. The table-talks after their meals always leave a lot to be desired, when Yoongi and Hoseok were younger, they often used to spend the time kicking each other beneath the table, nowadays they generally sit there as their parents rant about whatever’s pissed them off this week with their heads bowed.

A lot of the time, Hoseok has his jaw clenched. His father’s favourite thing to complain about has always been his son.

So Yoongi slinks off, ignoring the pairs of eyes following him. He holes himself up in his room, puts on his headphones and goes about studying. It’s a familiar routine, one he doesn’t offer deter from even if it is the Summer holidays, except for recently, with the introduction of Namjoon into his life.

Yoongi can’t help but grin to himself, and is glad no-one’s around to see it, because he’s sure he looks like an idiot. He’s a little behind on study, having had a couple dates with Namjoon last week. Kim Namjoon. His official boyfriend and Yoongi’s still not quite over that tidbit yet. Whenever Namjoon says some cheesy shit about it, Yoongi pulls faces but really he loves it. 

As much as Yoongi would love to spend time ruminating on his official Boyfriend, he really does have study he needs to catch up on. So he gets started, laying out things and reading over his notes. It goes well, he’s able to concentrate and figures, if he goes over the content he wants to cover tonight, then in an hour, he’ll call Namjoon. Sorta like a reward system. 

That is, until ten minutes later, when his door crashes open and he jumps a foot in the air. He yanks off his headphones in time to hear Hoseok snort and greet him.

‘Hey loser.’ Door slams shut. Hoseok waltz into the room like he owns the place and parks himself on Yoongi’s bed.

Sugamon,  “This has been a shitty week and you just grabbed the last box of my favourite comfort food from the shelf, do you really want to fight me rn?”

(1.4k, slight crack? shitty exes? college!AU)

It had started with a particularly nasty paper cut on Monday morning. Taehyung had used the last of the band-aids for his art project and so Namjoon was left to accidentally reopen the cut all day and avoid touching anything that’d have him hissing from the sting.

The next day he’d been walking home from class, reading the book he’d bought for himself as a treat last week when a truck had roared past and drenched him in the water pooling in the gutter from the storm last week. Both Namjoon and the book had been drenched.

Wednesday, his alarm hadn’t gone off on time and Taehyung had drunk the last of their coffee.

Thursday, he’d gotten marks back from a test only to find he’d gotten a less than awesome result.

And then Friday had topped it all off. Going to a party where he just wanted to get wasted and forget the week’s inconveniences, only for his shitty ex to be there with his new boyfriend on his arm. Hoseok had gotten drunk and yelled in Namjoon’s ear about how cute they were together, Jimin had to usher him off before Namjoon went ape-shit and smacked him one. In short it had been a shitty shitty night and if Namjoon had gone home and buried himself under his duvets and cried, well that’s his own business.

But it’s Saturday now. It’s Saturday and Namjoon has a plan that will make this entire thing better.

He has the house to himself this morning, can sprawl out on the couch with all the pillows they own, all his favourite snacks and binge watch the latest season of Stranger Things with no interruptions.

Of course, because it’s Taehyung, he’s finished off the last of Namjoon’s favourite ice cream and hasn’t bothered to restock. Namjoon isn’t too fussed, it’s a nice day out, he doesn’t mind walking ten minutes to the supermarket. The fresh air will do him some good.

After rounding up a quick shopping list with extra things he swears he’s gonna hide in his room to protect from the likes of Taehyung, Namjoon heads to the supermarket, picking out all the things he needs and throwing them in his basket, before making his way to the frozen foods section.

There’s a man in the aisle, Namjoon catches a look at his profile, does a double take at how pretty the guy is, lips pursed as he reads the label on an ice cream punnet.

Ah, that’s right.

Namjoon heads to the freezer, eyes rake across the shelves, and when his gaze lands on the space where his ice cream normally is, the spot is empty.

Something inside Namjoon snaps.

The guy is retreating down the aisle and before Namjoon can stop himself, he’s lurching forward grabbing the guy by the bicep and spinning him to face him. The guy’s eyes widen slightly, lips parting just so and once he’s given Namjoon’s face a good look, he frowns, not bothering to shuck his arm free.

‘Can I help you?’ he drawls.

Namjoon lets him go, guilt in his chest. Part of him wants to drop the entire thing and leave before he embarrasses himself any further. The larger part wants the damn ice cream.

‘Look man,’ he says, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tries to sound as less crazy as possible. ‘This has been a shitty week, and you just grabbed the last carton of ice cream. Do you really want to fight me right now?’

The threat of violence isn’t exactly Namjoon had been expecting to come out of his mouth, but turns out he’s more angry than he initially thought.

The guy’s eyes track lazily down his body and for one fleeting moment, Namjoon thinks the guy is trying to suss out whether he can take him.

Then, ‘You’re Kim Namjoon, right?’

Namjoon blinks. ‘Yeah?’

‘Min Yoongi,’ the guy says. ‘We’re in Music Appreciation together.’

‘We are?’ He does look vaguely familiar now that Namjoon thinks about it. Should be more so considering just how pretty he is.

‘Sure. You’re the dude who’s constantly correcting the lecturer and I’m the one who snorts when he looks like he’s about to cry.’

Namjoon flushes to the tips of his ears. That had been a one time thing and in hindsight he wasn’t particularly proud of it.

‘I didn’t mean to make him cry.’

‘Yeah, see, the way you went about that whole discussion proves otherwise. Plus, dude deserves it. I don’t have a fuck tonne of student debt to here from some guy who doesn’t know his shit.’

‘I guess.’

Yoongi hums, eyes tracking him once more, a little too close. ‘Are you the same Namjoon that’s Minjae’s ex?’

Namjoon freezes, blood running cold. Of course the weekend just had to get even worse, things can’t ever run smoothly and whilst he’s getting used to this, he’s still so done with everyone recognising him as ‘Minjae’s ex.’

Minjae is more sociable than he is, always was, he had friends everywhere and of course loved to use that reach to his advantage. Namjoon had broken up with him after growing tired of seeing Minjae flirt with anything with a pulse. It had been an ugly break up, lots of blame and yelling and once Minjae had left Namjoon’s apartment he had gone on a rampage and convinced all of his friends, and as a result a good chunk of the campus’ population, of the various terrible things Namjoon had done.

There is a reason Minjae is the ‘shitty ex’ and not just a ‘regular ex.’

‘So which rumour did you hear then?’ Namjoon grits out, waiting for the look of disgust that is sure to make an appearance.

‘None that I believe,’ Yoongi shrugs. ‘I’ve known Minjae for years, he’s full of it.’

‘Right,’ Namjoon says, maybe he should feel relieved, but honestly he doesn’t want someone to shit-talk his ex with right now, he just wants his comfort food. ‘So can you just give me the ice cream?’

Yoongi regards him thoughtfully, pursing his lips. ‘No.’

‘No?’

‘You yelled at me and now I’m upset and feel bad about myself. I’m very sensitive.’

He doesn’t look very upset and Namjoon has the sneaking suspicion that that’s because he isn’t. That’s to be expected from someone who’s friends with Minjae.

‘Right, whatever,’ Namjoon says, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. ‘I’ll see you in class or something.’

He’ll just have to do without the ice cream this time around. Or buy a block of chocolate instead, that’d be a half hearted substitute, he can live with that.

Namjoon turns to walk off, and gets about five steps away before Yoongi’s voice pipes up behind him.

‘Wanna make it up to me?’

Namjoon turns slowly, brow furrowed. ‘What?’

‘The yelling,’ Yoongi says and there’s a strange glint in his eyes as he says it. ‘Do you wanna make me feel better?’

Irritation fizzles at Namjoon’s temple, his fist clenching around the basket. ’What do you have in mind?’

‘Go on a date with me.’

Namjoon almost chokes on his own spit. Of all the stupid requests Namjoon had expected, a fucking date wasn’t one of them.

‘What?’ He’s pretty sure he’s blushing, and Min Yoongi is looking way too amused with all of this. ‘Why?’

‘Because I’m a vindictive asshole, and you’re not the only one of Minjae’s shitty exes.’

Namjoon pauses, eyes widening a little. ‘You…?’

‘Yeah,’ Yoongi says with a shrug. ‘You’re also super cute and make me laugh. With my brains and you’re adorableness we’ll make quite the pair.’

‘I’ve got brains,’ Namjoon says.

‘Even better,’ Yoongi grins, his gums on display as he smiles and, yeah, okay, Min Yoongi kinda delivers on the cute front as well. ‘Come on, Kim. We can discuss our evil plan over ice cream.’

What a fucker. A cute fucker, but a fucker nonetheless. Namjoon forces his expression into one of pure exasperation. Slumps his shoulders.

‘Alright fine,’ Namjoon says. ‘But we’re doing it at mine, I don’t know you, you could be a psycho for all I know.’

‘Fair call,’ Yoongi says, he cocks his head forward. ‘Lead the way then, cutie.’

Sugamon, “Those sure look like the scrawlings of a mad man.”

(1.8k, high school au, fluffy fluff fluff) 

Part of my ongoing, non-linear  High School AU series

- 5th June, 2011    -          2nd December, 2010    -     21st October, 2011 -- 20th June, 2011       -        1st January, 2011       -       7th July, 2011 -

20th June, 2011

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.’

‘You’re unbearable.’

‘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. 

‘Hyung.’

‘Namjoon.’

‘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.’

‘I’m sorry, Joon-ah,’ Yoongi says. Namjoon sobs and Yoongi closes his eyes. He lifts Namjoon off the toilet bowl so he slumps onto Yoongi’s shoulder and holds him there. Not a hug so much as an awkward tangle to limbs as Yoongi tries to give some form of comfort, but it’s hard given their situation. You can’t sate Hanahaki just like you can’t sate a broken heart.

‘At least we have each other in all of this, huh?’ Yoongi says, trying to lighten the mood. Namjoon chokes out a wet laugh, face nuzzling into Yoongi’s shoulder. Yoongi squeezes him tight, wishing to every deity he knows that he could just take all of Namjoon’s hurt away, but it doesn’t work that way.

I started this so many times only to delete everything wow omg finally finished this is not a fucking drabble omg. 

Sugamon, 85, “Did you just whistle at me?”

(2.7k, high school AU, mentions of homophobia, slight internalised homophobia) 

Part of my ongoing, non-linear  High School AU series

- 5th June, 2011     -          2nd December, 2010     -     21st October, 2011 -- 20th June, 2011       -        1st January, 2011       -       7th July, 2011 -

2nd December, 2010 

Late nights at the library have become commonplace for Yoongi in the past few months or so. The place is normally deserted at night, making it quieter than it is at home, with his brother blasting shitty music in his room, the walls too thin for anything resembling quiet and Yoongi’s given up on the uphill battle of trying to convince his brother to purchase a set of headphones.

The living room is also a hub of activity, his parents prone to entertaining all sorts of people every night of the week and if they’re not, the television is on and loud. So Yoongi will just escape to the library, put his own (superior) music in his ears and go over his notes, pour over his homework and essentially chew the end of his pencil to a nub. A bad habit he’ll be more prone to working on when he’s not stressed out of his mind from the avalanche of homework.

It’s a couple hours spent in the almost desolate place that he decides to make his way home. Normally he’ll linger a bit longer, but he’d been up early this morning, somehow letting Jimin and some of his other team members convince him into taking a morning run. He’s drained, his concentration shot to hell and there was someone at the table opposite him that would not stop clicking their damn pen and Yoongi has elected to head home and get some sleep rather than exploding and chucking a calculus book as some stranger’s head.

The night is cold, bites at his bare cheeks and splotches them pink. He’s decided to walk home tonight. Normally his brother would come pick him up, but who knows how long it’ll be before he checks his phone. Better to just walk. Even if the people he sometimes encounters at this time of night leer at him and shout occasionally, he can deal if it means he can be in bed within the next twenty minutes.

Huddling into his jacket, Yoongi starts off down the path. He’s got his music paused now, a little cautious to have his hearing obstructed when it’s dark out. Cars trudge past at a snail’s pace, the brightness of their lights forcing him to squint, he’s walking, minding his own business when he near jumps out of his skin, a wolf whistle cutting through the night and puncturing his chest.

And Yoongi knows he’s not exactly huge. He’s thin and hasn’t got height on his side but he’s been told he’s plenty intimidating when he’s cussing someone out and this guy’s just fucking asking to be torn a new one. So he whirls, with the full intention to let this motherfucker have it because he is tired and all geared up when he’s met with a sight of a full lipped smile and purple hair mostly hidden under a beanie.

I was told Sugamon with this so we are going with sugamon :D 

Sugamon, 21 & 81, “I’m Min Fucking Yoongi!” and “Hello Mr. Grumpy”

(high school au, implied/referenced homophobia, secret relationship, 1.4k)

 Part of my ongoing, non-linear  High School AU series

- 5th June, 2011     -          2nd December, 2010     -     21st October, 2011 -- 20th June, 2011       -        1st January, 2011       -       7th July, 2011 -

5th June, 2011

Yoongi’s not one for nerves when it comes to basketball. It’s just not one of those things he lets himself stress about. He knows he’s good and when he’s playing, it’s one of the only times he feels like he has shit under control. 

But it’s just. It’s a huge play off. The final and he’s the captain and people are expecting things from him and his brother has come to every single game of his since he was like, ten and he’s not gonna be at this one and for whatever stupid reason Yoongi doesn’t feel so reassured anymore. 

He’s dressed in all his gear, hanging in the locker room before any of the team has arrived. He’s trying to amp himself up, jumping up and down on the spot for that reason and also because it’s damn cold in the locker room without a dozen other bodies pressed too close against him

Releasing a shaky breath he steels himself, looks over at the grimy mirror and levels his reflection with a glare. He needs to get his shit together, seriously. 

‘This isn’t something to get worked up over,’ Yoongi says to himself. ‘We’ve totally got this under control. I have this under control come on. I’m Min fucking Yoongi, this is nothing–’

‘Pfft.’

Yoongi almost jumps a foot in the air. He whirls, cheeks flushing and sees a figure decked out in black standing against a locker. Namjoon’s grinning, dimples digging into his cheeks and all seven of his facial piercings flashing in the shitty locker lighting. 

‘What are you doing here?’ Yoongi demands, that embarrassment curling around his ribs like a vice. Namjoon just scoffs again. 

‘Well, hello Mr. Grumpy,’ he has the audacity to waggle his fingers in Yoongi’s direction, bats his eyes and Yoongi wants to cuss him out but he just ends up blushing harder despite himself. 

Kim Namjoon is in the year below though he’s smart enough to be in university, which keeps the school from expelling him. He gets detention slips every week for getting caught smoking and the amount of metal in his face and the knot of his tie always looks more like a noose and Yoongi often wonders if that’s part of Namjoon’s weird sense of humour. 

Sometimes he wears make up, like some idol boy or something. One time he showed up to school with pastel purple hair so he’d stand out even more than he did already. He was also one of the few openly gay students at the school. Which was just. It was something. It was definitely something. 

He didn’t have many friends and seemed to like it that way. His close knit group consisted of two others. Kim Seokjin was Yoongi’s year and often times hung out inside his own locker playing on his phone. Jung Hoseok was Namjoon’s year, a giant flirt and notorious for threatening to kick the living shit out of people if they so much as looked at one of his friends funny. And after a dude who’d scribbled ‘FREAK’ on Kim Seokjin’s locker after locking him inside wound up with a broken arm from mysterious causes the next day, everyone just tended to leave the three of them alone. 

Needless to say Yoongi didn’t have much to do with them. Namjoon, however… Namjoon was just… Relentless? That might not be the right word. He wasn’t horrible, by any means. He just showed up a lot. And Yoongi didn’t exactly shoo him away even if the guy irritated him beyond belief. 

They’d hung out a couple of times. Yoongi had taken them out in the car he’d borrowed from his brother and they’d driven up a hill and eaten burgers as they watched the city lights. They went to a movie together. Sometimes Namjoon would send him links to music over KakaoTalk. One time, they sat under the bleachers during a free period and listened to music, sharing a pair of headphones. Yoongi’s heart had been racing the entire time, thinking or what might happen if they were caught. 

He hasn’t told anyone about any of this. He’s not sure if Namjoon has either but sometimes he swears he sees Kim Seokjin grinning at him in class, but they guy’s weird and it might not mean anything. It’s not public knowledge that Namjoon and Yoongi sometimes hang out by any means. 

(It’s no-one’s fucking business that Namjoon had called their last hang out a date and Yoongi had not corrected him. Or that they’d held hands or that when Yoongi dropped Namjoon at home, he’d kissed Yoongi’s cheek and Yoongi had grinned into his pillow like an idiot.)

‘Seriously, Joon-ah,’ Yoongi says and he softens his voice a little now. ‘It’s the weekend, I’m pretty sure you’ve never set foot in a locker room in your life. What are you doing here?’ 

Namjoon shrugs, wanders over without a care in the world and Yoongi has to look up at him a bit because Namjoon to his annoyance is a decent amount taller than he is. 

‘I knew you’d be nervous, hyung,’ Namjoon says, smile warm and Yoongi’s heart does a funny little kick. ‘I figured you’d need some extra support.’

Yoongi puffs himself out, insulted. ‘Who said I was nervous?’

‘Please,’ Namjoon says. He waves to indicate Yoongi’s hands. ‘Your nails are bitten to the nub and when you told me your brother couldn’t come you were just fiddling with your sleeves the entire time. It was cute. You’re cute.’ 

Yoongi’s heart swoops at that and he has the stupidest urge to hide his face in his hands. 

‘I’m not cute,’ Yoongi says.

‘Sure you’re not,’ Namjoon grins. ‘You know you’ve got this, hyung. I’ve seen you play before, you’ll kick the other team’s ass and it’ll be awesome. I’ll even take some photos for your hyung, if you want.’

Namjoon’s annoying. He likes to tease Yoongi about everything and anything and talks philosophy like some sort of schmuck. Has the biggest boner over fucking Camus or whatever his name is. 

But he’s so considerate, and just soft and Yoongi has no idea why Namjoon decided to set his sights on him. Min Yoongi, class president, captain of the basketball team who to everyone’s knowledge was straight. He doesn’t know why, but a part of him is just so so thankful for it and so he barely thinks before he grabs Namjoon by his choker and tugs him down for a kiss. 

His lips tingle, Namjoon tastes like coffee, Yoongi’s kicking himself for not doing this sooner because when Namjoon smiles against his lips, he honestly doesn’t think he’s felt so good in his entire life. 

There’s whooping and hollering and Yoongi recoils just in time for the locker room door to crash open, his team-mates flooding in and hesitating when they see the two of them. Yoongi forces his face to fall neutral. 

‘Oh Namjoon!’ Jimin, their small forward’s, eyes go wide. ‘What are you doing here?’

It’s not said with any malice. Jimin isn’t the type for malice, he’s just curious. Which makes sense because it’s common knowledge that Kim Namjoon has skipped every gym class in existence unless Jung Hoseok can drag him along all but kicking and screaming. Jimin’s just got this small crease to his brow, but he’s not recoiling or anything like that. 

But the others, they’re less welcoming. No-one’s outright hostile but they look uncomfortable. As if Namjoon is contagious or something. The one’s that are already shirtless try to cover themselves and Yoongi kinda wants to be sick. 

‘I got lost,’ Namjoon says and he’s smiling, not phased by any of it because that’s just how he is. He’s used to it. ‘Big school and all. Yoongi was giving me directions.’ 

‘Oh,’ Jimin says, and he’s grinning big again, accepting the lie without question. ‘Well, okay then, have a good night!’

‘Thanks,’ Namjoon says, smiling easily. ‘Good luck with your game.’

And then he’s gone, wedging past Yoongi and out into the hall. There’s silence for a long moment and Yoongi is just praying no-one will say anything. He doesn’t know if he can cope with anyone slandering Namjoon. Doesn’t know what he’ll do in the face of it. 

‘You know there are some girls who made a banner with your name on it, hyung,’ Jimin says, elbowing him in the side as he winks. ‘Pretty special, might finally be able to land yourself a girl you like after this game, huh?’ 

The smile Yoongi gives him is more of a grimace and he laughs even as his stomach twists in knots but Jimin doesn’t seem to notice.