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“Fuck you, Park Jimin,” Yoongi snarls between gritted teeth as his friend – though that title is being reconsidered right now – yet again pulls the strings lacing up his corset with far too much force. “Sorry hun,” Jimin laughs, “I know this ass is irresistible but I’m afraid it’s taken.” “By a guy who doesn’t even know your name,” He mutters, rolling his eyes, “As if I give a damn about your –” He cuts off with an undignified wheeze as the air in his lungs is squeezed out with another vicious tug at the strings. Dear god, he’s going to have a waist the width of one spicy chicken wing by the end of this. “Stay still,” Jimin trills smugly. Bastard. He did that on purpose. “That was unnecessary, asshole!” “Who’s the expert on corsets here?” “Wearing maid outfits for your weird secret job does not make you an expert on corsets!” Yoongi snaps. “Ow. Fuck! Are you trying to break my ribs?” “Alright, all done!” Jimin ties the strings into an elaborate bow which he can already tell he’s never going to get undone. “Stop making such a fuss.” “I can barely breathe,” He complains. “Ugh, how do you stand this?” “The money.” He replies bluntly. “It’s all about the zeros on that check. Now put this on!” Yoongi doesn’t allow himself time to properly examine the dress that’s just been handed to him. After all, he too is doing this for the money and he can’t back out now – if he tries the corset will probably fuse to his skin to trap him there like some fucked up horror movie. It’s easy enough to slip the material over his head, and as soon as he’s got his arms through the fussy, frilled sleeves, Jimin is lacing up the back and tying a few more fancy bows just to really crush his dignity. Yoongi stands in front of the full length mirror and examines himself, trying in vain to tug the hem of the skirt a little further down his thighs whilst simultaneously pulling it up a little higher on his shoulders. It barely seems to cover anything. The worst part about the whole situation is how high quality the dress is; pure cotton with lots of frilly lace and silk in a classic black and white. It’s certainly much nicer than anything he owns – not that he’d admit to the well-hidden collection of dresses, skirts and um… undergarments in his wardrobe. He’s sure that he’d somehow feel a lot less horrified by the ordeal if it were all a bit tacky and a bit less, well, disturbingly kinky. “I hate you,” Yoongi mutters, frowning at his reflection as Jimin fusses about him, straightening down ruffled edges and pulling up his knee high socks. “You won’t when you see your pay-check!” He grins. Finally satisfied with Yoongi, he moves onto his own dress (bubble-gum pink. At least he’s not wearing that monstrosity) positioning an Alice band with a stupid bow in his hair. “Oh no, I’ll still hate you,” He reassures him snidely, “I’ll just hate myself a little less.” “Oh come on hyung” Jimin tuts, leaning closer to the mirror to apply mascara. “It’s not that bad! Hell, it’s a damn sight better than that delivery job you had last year.” Yoongi rolls his shoulder reflexively at that comment, wincing a little at the residual stiffness. His friend is definitely right – that job was a disaster and nearly killed him – but he’s not about to admit it. “Yeah well. If I hadn’t hurt myself I’d be back there like a shot. At least I’d still have my dignity,” “Pssh, what dignity?” Jimin laughs, “You’re too uptight, hyung. Now come here so I can do your makeup.” “No way!” He snaps. “You’ll take my eye out! I’ll do it myself.” “You know how to?”                                 “Of course I know how to, I’ve practiced!” There’s nothing like a few hours watching makeup tutorials to procrastinate on finishing an essay. You get to avoid having to work and you learn useful skills. “Jeez and he talks about dignity,” Jimin rolls his eyes and is firmly ignored. This is perhaps the point at which Yoongi should explain quite how he ended up in a maid’s outfit in the back room of a small café on a Saturday morning. Plenty of students are desperate for a little extra money, but most would literally rather do anything else. The first part is simple: he was tricked into working at a maid café by his good-for-nothing traitor of a best friend. His reasons for needing the job are a little more complicated and a hell of a lot more embarrassing. ~ One week ago “Theoretically…” Yoongi begins, already regretting giving voice to his thoughts when he sees the smirk on Jimin’s face, “If Jungkook were to kiss me – you know just theoretically – do you think he’d be strong enough –” “To pick you up and hold you against a wall? Duh! He wouldn’t even need the wall!” Jimin snickers, stuffing a corn chip in his mouth, “I can pick you up.” In his defence, it had got to a lull in the gameplay, with most of the players stretching whilst the coach went over a match timetable with a few, and his mind had wandered. Normally he’d be far too focussed on Jungkook – or, to be precise, Jungkook’s thighs – to start talking to Jimin. “Fuck off! No you can’t, pip-squeak.” “May I remind you that I am not the one literally drooling over a one hundred percent straight baseball player who you’ve never spoken to?” Yoongi’s hand instinctively flies to his mouth, “You little!” “Ha, you fell for it!” Jimin snorts, “Though I have seen you drooling before so it’s not that far of a leap,” “You’re no better” He mutters reproachfully, “You’re only out here with me to watch Taehyung. A guy who, I might add, you have also never spoken to.” “Well, at least I know he’s gay!” He snaps, “You haven’t got a hope in hell with Mr. Muscle Bunny over there.” “The whole school knows that Kim Taehyung is gay.” Yoongi glances over to the side of the pitch where the cheerleaders are practicing and Taehyung is doing cartwheels in a very short skirt and a crop top. “He’s way out of your league anyway.” “Shut up! I’m totally in his league!” Jimin protests furiously, “I’ve got the best ass on campus!” “That’s subjective.” “Bitch!” Yoongi sighs and takes another bite of his sandwich, focus squarely back on Jungkook. He’s running laps around the pitch, hair pushed back off his sweaty forehead and thighs bulging in those glorious shorts. He should probably feel some pity for the squad, stuck outside in the chilly January air with nothing to keep their legs warm, but he’s too busy thanking the patron saint of gayness for the kind gift of thighs™. Besides, he’s bravely facing the cold weather – not one to be put off by a bitter wind and oh god is it snowing now? – so he’s sure they’ll survive. Jimin and Yoongi attend every match religiously and at least one practice a week when their schedules align – for reasons that are arguably not very religious and certainly have nothing to do with the joys of the outdoors, especially at this time of year. They sit high up in the stands, sometimes with lunch that they forget to eat, sometimes with work that they never intended to do. He’s yet to work up the courage to get a little closer in order to enjoy the uh… action in full HD. He did once consider bringing binoculars to get a better look, but to be fair that was at three am and he’d just been crying into a bowl of rice for half an hour. “You should join the cheer squad” Jimin suggests with a suspiciously nonchalant tone, “We both should actually. They’d definitely notice us then.” “I’m not joining the cheer squad just so you can work up the courage to talk to your crush.” “I said it’d be good for the both of us!” He protests. “You just said that Kookie –” “Ugh, Kookie? Seriously? You’re gross” Yoongi stoically ignores the interruption, “– wasn’t gay and that I didn’t have a hope in hell of ever getting him!” “Ok fine!” Jimin huffs, “But do it anyway? Please? Be a good friend and help out?” “No way.” He replies bluntly, “Do it yourself. I’m not an obnoxious gay.” “Oh please, you once called me at two am to cry about how much you wanted to suck a dick. Jungkook’s in particular if I do recall?” “Why am I friends with you?” “Because I have too much dirt on you.” He answers immediately, “Also I’m a delight” “Debatable” To the casual observer, they would seem more like long term enemies than friends, but they have in fact known each other since middle school. They have the kind of relationship where they talk shit about one another constantly, and show affection through extreme mockery – but they’d be quick to stab a bitch if anyone tried to join in.  Yoongi even possesses the fine accolade of being Jimin’s gay awakening, something he likes to forget about. Unfortunately, in his own extreme embarrassment, Jimin likes to bring it up at every possible moment to use as an insult against him. (I.e. “I can’t believe I used to have a crush on you! How gross is that?”) There’s a pause and then Yoongi sighs, “We’re both such gay disasters.” “I mean, I don’t think it’s fair to put me in the same category as you…” Yoongi reaches over to flick Jimin on the forehead without even looking – he’s done it so many times over the years that the action is practically automatic. He boxes up the rest of his food carefully, no longer in the mood to eat, but too broke to even think about wasting it. “Fuck off!” Jimin pouts, clutching his forehead dramatically. “You know I hate it when you do that!” “Don’t be a little bitch then,” He snorts. “Ok, ok, how about if… I just ask him out?”  “A radical idea,” Jimin rolls his eyes. “Truly ground-breaking!” He ignores him, “If I just come straight out with it…” “Straight out with it?” He repeats incredulously. “You haven’t done a single straight thing since 1993! You can’t even drive straight – you failed your driving test three times!” “That is a completely unnecessary thing to bring into this!” Yoongi hisses. “It’s good to be reminded of your failures.” Jimin grins, “It keeps you humble.” “And yet I point out your flaws on the daily and it never has any effect” “That’s because I’m perfect.” “Case in point.” “How would you even ask him out?” Jimin speaks up again after a few minutes of blatant staring. Yoongi has no idea what Jimin was distracted by because Jungkook had just peeled his shirt off his abs to wipe the sweat off his face and he is suffering™. “Huh?” “I asked how you would ask him,” He repeats, “Of course this is assuming that you would even get within five feet of him without forgetting how to walk because ‘oh my god Jimin he’s just so beautiful!’” “That was one fucking time! One time! You don’t catch me bringing up that pop quiz you were forced to take when you went to Taehyung’s lectures to stalk him every time I take a breath!” “Look, I’m just saying that you’d come across as weird!” Jimin says insistently, ignoring his rant. “As your friend I am being wonderfully kind and advising you that he’ll think you’re a total creep if you just corner him in a hallway or something. He doesn’t know who you are!” “Wow thanks, so kind of you, I feel so much better!” Yoongi scowls. “If you let me finish maybe you would hear the actual advice!” He snaps, “I was gonna say that Valentine's Day is only a couple of months away.” “So?” “So, you idiot, you should confess your undying love and weird obsession to him then – it’s more socially acceptable.” “Right,” He thinks about it. “Actually that could work.” “Well, that’s one problem down – very much the tip of the iceberg of your uselessness – after all, what are you actually going to say?” “I could ask him out to dinner?” Yoongi ventures, already losing confidence in the idea. “Buy him… flowers?” “How are you going to afford that?” Jimin laughs scathingly, “You can barely feed yourself! You live off watered down ramen and the food you steal from my side of the fridge!” “Hey, come on!” He protests, “We share the cost of groceries, that food was fair game!” “Shared cost my ass!” He scoffs, “I spend way more than you do!” “Just because you’ve got your mysterious high-paying job and can afford fancy vegetables!” “Well that’s –” Jimin stops suddenly, “Actually… my boss is looking to hire at the moment” “And it’s actually legit?” Yoongi frowns. “I have principles you know.” “Don’t worry about your beloved principles” He laughs, putting unnecessary air quotes around the word. “It’s legit. And the pay is super good” “God,” He snorts, “All this time I thought you had a sugar daddy or something.” “I could totally get one if I wanted to,” Jimin shrugs, “But it sounds like too much effort, to be honest. Mind you I have enough nudes saved that –” “Ok that’s enough. Just tell me about the job,” He snaps, “You reckon I’ll get it? I don’t need experience or anything?” “Oh no,” Jimin smiles, “You’ll do just fine.” He’s about to ask for a little further info when a whistle is blown and Jungkook picks up a bat and heads to the home-plate to get in starting position. All other thoughts immediately leave his head as he turns all his focus to those glorious arms as the freshman starts to swing. He’s got his priorities straight. (Or gay, in this case) ~ Yoongi really should have known not to trust that devilish smile, but now he’s dressed up in a maid’s outfit and it’s far too late. The fact that he’s actually beginning to enjoy it (hey it’s comfortable and he does look good) is irrelevant. He may like dressing up in the safety of his own room, but parading around in front of giggling teenagers and forty year old men does not appeal™. Thanks but no thanks. “You’ll do, I think,” Jimin says, looking him up and down appraisingly. “There’s room for improvement, but we can work on that next time.” “Who says there’s going to be a ‘next time’?” Yoongi mutters. “The pay-check” “Fair enough” He sighs. If being a broke student had taught him one thing, it was the monetary value of his dignity, down to the last zero. “At least you already shave your legs,” Jimin comments appreciatively, running a hand down Yoongi’s thighs and ignoring his indignant yelp of “Get off!” – “Not that there’s much to shave mind you. But I once had a guy who looked like a satyr or something. I had to put him in tights!” “Wait. Tights? I can wear tights?” Yoongi demands, “Give me some!” “No way am I hiding those legs!” He exclaims, “Just think about the tips!” “…Tips?” He asks warily. “Oh yeah! Sometimes I make half as much again just through extras. But that’s no surprise – I’m cute.” “What you are, is an idiot” Yoongi swipes at him. “Mess up my makeup and I’ll kill you!” Jimin hisses, dancing out of his reach. “Are you done with me or not?” He asks, completely ignoring the threat. Jimin rarely follows through – with him at least, there have been more than a few who have had to learn the lesson the hard way. “Just put these on and you’re ready to go,” He hands him a pair of black and white Mary Janes. “Our shift starts in ten. You remember the stuff Seokjin hyung went through with you?” “Yes. Unfortunately.” It had been a trialling half hour of his life. “He won’t care if you mess up,” Jimin reassures him and then ruins it with, “As I’m sure you will. Jin hyung is nice.” “Great, thanks for the vote of confidence.” Yoongi mutters. “Let’s go then.” After an excruciating first half hour during which he drops two cups, scowls at a lot of people, makes awkward noises or fails to reply at all when he’s spoken to and ‘accidentally’ slaps a customer after the guy tries to pull him into his lap, Yoongi settles into the rhythm of things. He pours tea for a group of women without spilling a single drop and feels a great sense of accomplishment as they giggle. He’s doing his best to ignore the way they lean back to get a look up his skirt. He still desperately wants to punch someone, but then he sees Jimin get a ten thousand won note just for giggling and smiling at a man and decides that his pride isn’t worth that much. So he smiles and answers people’s flirty questions and just dances out of the way with a gracious laugh every time someone tries to feel him up. And he doesn’t break any more cups. Hell, Yoongi even lets himself be hand fed a mouthful of cake, but that’s mostly because he’s hungry. (Also it’s bloody good. How has he never had cake this good before? God, when was the last time he could afford cake?) They get a ten minute break around one to touch up their makeup and scarf down a bit of lunch and as soon as they enter the back room, Jimin slaps him on the back with unnecessary force to congratulate him, “You’re doing great.” “Thanks,” Yoongi splutters. He’s struggling to get enough breath in his lungs as it is, what with the corset of death compressing his ribcage. “I told you you’d be a natural!” He says proudly in a way that suggests he thinks this success is solely due to him. “Actually, you said I’d just about pass as long as I remembered not to scowl at everyone,” He reminds him. “Well… that might work for you. Some dudes like that.” He winks, “It could be your thing, you know? Mine is being super sweet and giggly –” “So the complete opposite of your natural personality” “–so you’d make a nice contrast” Jimin takes no notice of his interruption. “You can be the tsundere one. All the masochists will love it.” “First of all, that’s disgusting and I’d rather choke” Yoongi scowls, “and second of all: you do realise that this is basically a sugar daddy kind of situation?” “Oh get over it,” Jimin huffs, “Soon you’ll have enough money to take Jungkook out to supper every night and then you won’t be complaining.” “That’s literally the only thing getting me through right now,” He mutters, putting a hand to his forehead to massage his temples. Alice bands are bloody tight. “Drama queen.” He rolls his eyes “Says the guy who dragged a girl for not fancying him on a blind date, even though he’s gay and was about to leave anyway.” “She said I was too short for her!” Jimin protests, “I was mortally offended!” “Well you are short” Yoongi grins. “You have one centimetre on me! One!” He snaps. Thankfully, the rest of the day holds no more unpleasant surprises and he leaves at the end of the lunchtime shift in a surprisingly good mood, fresh pay-check burning a hole in his pocket. He had at first intended to go straight home and nap, but he’s suddenly feeling creative, so he makes a detour and heads back to campus to work in the music studios for a few hours. ~ It’s early on a Thursday afternoon, and Yoongi is half an hour into his shift, having only had a couple of lectures to attend that morning. He’s been working at the maid café for just under a fortnight now, and whilst he would go to his grave denying it, he’s genuinely enjoying it. Unfortunately, Jimin caught him admiring his outfit in the mirror when he arrived on Monday after his morning lectures and now won’t shut up about how he “knew you’d be into this!” Today he’s been entrusted with the “crucially important” – to quote Seokjin – task of greeting customers as they come through the door. Despite the overly long and dramatic speech his manager gave him, it turns out to be a fairly easy job, just bow, smile, pick one of three sickeningly sweet phrases to welcome them in with, direct them to an empty table and repeat. Sure, his face is beginning to hurt from how long he’s been holding this gummy smile and he doesn’t get as many opportunities to seek refuge in the back room and berate Jimin for his own life choices (at least he’s self-aware), but there is much less chance of being groped. He has been the subject of a lot of blatant leering and he’s received an unnecessary number of cheesy pick-up lines, but there’s nothing much he can do about that. However, if he got the chance, Yoongi would happily burn the outfit he’s been stuck into, in fact wearing the charred remains instead would be a definite improvement. Not only is it a ghastly combination of bubble-gum pink and baby blue – which is more than enough for his soul to depart from his body and spontaneously combust with shame – but it also has a great big heart cut out of the bodice. He feels like he’s a hair’s breadth away from baring his nipples to the worst dregs of humanity (ok they’re not that bad… mostly). He’s afraid of breathing too deeply in case the material slips. If Jimin had chosen it he would have given him short shrift and probably hidden a fish in his underwear drawer in revenge – in a metaphorical sense, mostly because he’s too lazy to go out and buy an actual fish and like, fish is expensive – but it was just his luck that as he was putting on the same black and white dress for the fourth day running Seokjin swanned in and snatched it from his hands. “Absolutely not!” He had scolded him, putting the dress far out of Yoongi’s reach with his annoyingly long arms and his stupidly broad shoulders and his fucking tiny waist and – ok he’s getting off topic. But in his defence, the guy has the proportions of a god and it is frankly unfair. Yoongi had stood there sullenly with his arms crossed over his corset, trying to portray a don’t-fuck-with-me attitude despite the sheer black stockings on his legs. “Come now, Yoongi-chi!” He tutted, “You have to introduce a little variety to your looks! We get a lot of regular customers, you know, and they like to see something different!” What Yoongi wanted to say was “I don’t give a flying fuck what the lecherous old creeps who hang around here like!” but instead he took the blue and pink monstrosity and said “Ok Seokjin-ssi” through gritted teeth because he was both his elder and his boss and it was polite. Also – since he did not in fact respect authority that much – because he valued his pay check and didn’t want to get fired. Hey, it’s not like he has any dignity left by this point anyway. In all fairness, though he has only known the man for a week or so, he has no doubts that Kim ‘Call me hyung!’ Seokjin is a good boss. When he had met him the first day, he had sat him down in his office – which was just as pink and fussy as the rest of the place; flowery wallpaper, sashes (? Don’t at him, he knows fuck all about interior design) hanging down from the ceiling, lots of doilies, just a whole lot of pink, the complete works – and had run through every part of the contract and what was expected of him in detail. He has also been very accommodating in arranging Yoongi’s shifts, since his timetable differs wildly from day to day and is subject to change on very little notice. One of the reasons he has struggled to get a stable part time job in the past. Most importantly Jin has no patience for customers who dare to break the rules, which are very clearly laid out in big signs with deceptively cutesy font over the counter. He is drawn to misbehaviour like a bloodhound to a scent, appearing from the kitchen armed with a pink, frilly apron, a bright smile and occasionally a rolling pin the minute someone tries to take a photo or makes an unwelcome pass at an employee. Jimin told him with great glee that Jin once forcibly removed a particularly aggressive customer by hauling him up by the shoulders and chucking him out the door, all with a smile on his face. Having seen him in action, Yoongi has no choice but to believe it. The doorbell jingles and Yoongi is buffeted with a gust of chilly air that ruffles his layered skirts and raises goose-bumps on his thighs. He plasters a bright (fake) smile on his face and spins around with greeting number two ready and waiting. And comes face to face with Jeon Jungkook. ~ The first time Yoongi noticed Jungkook – really noticed him – was two months ago when the freshman burst into his morning music theory lecture ten minutes late. As per usual, Yoongi was half asleep – hey he’s a college student, he has the sleeping habits of a narcoleptic owl and survives off coffee and those lavender scented bath bombs that really help you drift off… Anyway, he was leaning on one hand, lazily scribbling notes with the other and not really paying attention, just letting the words of his professor go straight through his brain and relying on his ability to take dictation without really focussing. The class was fairly boring, a course requirement he really should have got over and done with in first year but kept procrastinating on. And then Jungkook stumbled into the room, completely out of breath, hair slicked back with sweat, probably not smelling too good, but absolutely glowing. He was the most beautiful man Yoongi had ever seen – and he spent a lot of his angsty teenage years staring at pictures of idols in the middle of the night trying to figure out whether he was genuinely gay or just really appreciated aesthetics. You can guess the answer to that one. Yoongi didn’t realise his mouth was hanging open until Hani reached over and poked him whispering, “You trying to catch flies?” “Who is that?” He immediately asked, watching the boy bowing furiously to the professor and rushing to take a seat, blush of embarrassment rising up his neck. “That’s Jeon Jungkook, new star of the baseball team,” She answered, suppressing a laugh. “Cute isn’t he?” “Uh… yeah, I guess,” He muttered awkwardly. “Good luck with that one,” Hani smiled sympathetically. “Half the student body is in love with him,” “Wh – what are you implying?” He spluttered. “It’s kinda sad that you think you’re being subtle” And, from that moment on, Yoongi knew he was well and truly fucked. ~ Yoongi is absolutely convinced he’s hallucinating. There’s no way this is happening. It’s clearly just a weird dream and any minute now he’ll wake up, probably just before he actually gets to kiss Jungkook or vice versa – a lot of his dreams end like this. He hates his brain – and he’ll find himself back in his own bed with an embarrassingly elevated heart rate and sweaty sheets. Right. That’s definitely what is going to happen. Because otherwise his life is over. But the Jungkook standing awkwardly before him, looking up from under his fringe with wide eyes like a startled deer caught in the headlights and his shoulders curled in on themselves as if to make himself smaller – this Jungkook is not the suave, confident boy of his dreams. This is the shy kid that Yoongi first fell in love with. This is the real deal. His gaze darts across the room as he takes in the café, lips parting slightly in shock to reveal his cute bunny teeth, and Yoongi should really be turning away, fleeing into the back room to hide before he sees him, sees his face, but he can’t look away. He can’t take his eyes off his cute nose, tinged red from the cold, or his long eyelashes as he rapidly blinks with nervousness, or his tongue as it swipes across his top lip, or his long fingers calloused from hours of sports poking out from the too long sleeves of his coat, or his dark eyes as – As their eyes meet. They both freeze. Time seems to slow down as Yoongi catches that flash of recognition in Jungkook’s expression, watches as his eyes go wide as dinner plates, as his pretty mouth drops open into a perfect O, as a deep blush rises up his cheeks as he looks him up and down, taking in each frill and bow and scrap of lace in his outfit. And then Jungkook turns tail and flees. ~ “I’m never going to be able to show my face again!” Yoongi moans, throwing his head into his hands, “I’m going to transfer! I’m going to move cities! I’m going to go live in Chile as a goat!” “It’s not that bad,” Jimin sits down beside him on their ratty old sofa and pats him on the back. “He did recognise you, after all.” “How is that a good thing?!” “Well before we thought he had no idea you existed, whereas now he can’t possibly forget!” His ex-best friend informs him cheerily. “Oh great! That really makes me feel a whole lot better!” He snaps, reverting to savage sarcasm in his despair. “It’s just brilliant that my crush is going to tell the entire university that he saw me in a maid outfit! Couldn’t ask for anything better!” “I doubt it,” Jimin says with far less gravity than the situation requires. “Oh you think it could be worse?” Yoongi asks sarcastically. “Worse than him telling all his friends and them telling everyone else and me being the laughing stock of the campus in the brief period before I can afford plane tickets to Chile?” “No, I mean, I doubt that he’s going to tell anyone,” He corrects him, “You’re missing something important here.” “What! What useless piece of information are you going to fail to reassure me with now?” Jimin sighs, rolling his eyes, “Come on hyung, think about it. If Jungkook tells his friends you work at a Maid café, they’ll know that he went to one.” “What does that have to…“ Yoongi trails off. “An all-male maid café” He prompts him, raising an eyebrow. “Oh,” Yoongi sits back in his chair, “Oh!” “Yeah oh” Jimin snickers, doing an insultingly inaccurate imitation of his voice. “Do you think…?” “That your boy is hella gay?” He finishes for him, “I sure do. Guess there’s hope for all of us, huh.” ~ Yoongi isn’t quite so sure about ‘hope’ but he still goes to his lectures the next day despite his best instincts screaming at him to leave town and never come back, preferably after a name change and a radical makeover. Mostly because he’s not quite sure how to explain to his mother that he’s dropping out of university due to a poor choice of job. He’s pretty certain she wouldn’t react well to finding out that he serves people tea whilst in a lacy dress for a living. Not well at all. In his first few hours on campus – why oh why does it have to be his one full day? - he almost has a heart attack every time someone opens their mouth to speak to him, and he’s convinced that every smile sent his way and every bit of laughter in his vicinity is at his expense. But when it gets to lunch time and he’s yet to discover a banner declaring his transvestitism and latent homosexuality – not that the latter was a big secret, in fact it was… well, pretty latent – to the world or be shoved in a locker – not that he’d fit, but that’s what always seems to happen in films set in American high schools. Actually there aren’t even any lockers, so never mind – he decides his secret must be safe. All the same, he’s not ready to face Jungkook, and will in fact probably never be able to go within a hundred metres of him again, like some kind of mental restraining order to protect his sanity. So he stays in the music studios to eat his lunch, reduced to reading bad fanfiction on his phone since his usual lunch companion has abandoned him. “Don’t expect me to hang around with you,” Jimin had declared, “Your moping will only dampen my mood. Also Taehyung is waiting for me.” “He doesn’t even know you exist!” Yoongi had yelled after him but his words fell on deaf ears. Still, reading about his OTP falling in love at an excruciatingly slow pace or an unbelievably fast one (there is no middle ground in fanfiction) a few dozen times is always enough to brighten his spirits. Particularly if that old classic enemies-to-lovers with a dash of mutual pining is thrown in the mix. (It has to be mutual, he’s spent too long with the pain of unrequited pining to find that enjoyable). That evening he even has the joy of Jimin’s company and they declare a mild truce in their affectionate (no really) bickering to watch the latest episode of Personal Preference. It’s gay (or about as gay as K-dramas get anyway) so they have to. Also it has Lee Minho in it, a man second only to Jeon Jungkook in his heart. Jimin is feeling just as morose as him since Taehyung had apparently just embarked on his latest fling – the only thing capable of denting the younger’s self-confidence – and so they consume a whole tub of chocolate ice cream between them. They’ve known each other for long enough not to feel remotely self-conscious about this indulgence. They may mock each other for every other life choice but the consumption of depression ice cream is sacred. The one good thing about Jimin obsessing over Taehyung is that he’s stopped bringing home an endless stream of one night stands and consequently kicking Yoongi out. Therefore he actually gets to spend time in his own apartment and they also have more relaxed evenings together like this. (Contrary to popular beliefs, he does in fact like spending time with the younger – he just can’t admit it because it would give him too much power.) Come ten o'clock the next morning Yoongi finds himself back at Jin’s café for the day, applying lip gloss and drowning his sorrows in black lace. He might not have a chance with Jungkook anymore, but he still needs the money, mostly to buy unnecessary items of clothing online in the middle of the night. Also he’s too stubborn to back out now that he’s gone down in flames. It somehow seems logical that he has to persevere to make his eternal suffering worth it. Whatever, at least he got to choose his dress today. “Dude! You look cute!” Hoseok calls out as he falls into the dressing room, stumbling over his coat as he tries to disentangle himself from his scarf. “Fuck!” Yoongi swears as he smudges his lip gloss, “You made me jump!” Hoseok just laughs, already in the process of stripping out of his clothes without a shadow of self-consciousness. Mind you, he doesn’t have much to be self-conscious about – Yoongi may be devoted to Jungkook but he can recognise a beautiful body when he sees one. Jeez, those abs! And that gorgeous tan! Fuck it, he’d probably make a pass at him anyway, if Hoseok didn’t already have a boyfriend. He is, to use a rather disgusting but appropriate phrase of Jimin’s, lickable. “Is Minnie on shift today?” Hoseok asks, slipping on a bright yellow dress and fluffing up his hair. “I forgot to ask him in dance practice yesterday.” “He’s out helping Seokjin-ssi restock the cake stands.” He pauses in applying his makeup to frown at him, “Are you really gonna keep that up?” “Keep what up?” Yoongi asks innocently, even though he knows full well what Hoseok is referring to. “Your insistence on calling him Seokjin-ssi. It’s so weird to hear!” “It’s my one rebellion.” He answers dryly. “Aww hyung! Jinnie is a nice guy you know! He’s like an older brother to me,” Hoseok says earnestly, smiling that heart-shaped smile that has all the customers swooning. “His sense of humour alarms me.” “His humour is…” Hoseok, usually so positive about everything, struggles to find something good to say, “It’s an acquired taste, I’ll give you that. But hey, you get used to it,” “Keep telling yourself that,” Yoongi snickers. “When you finally snap and stab him with a cake knife I’ll come visit you in prison.” “You’re a really strange person, hyung!” He laughs, “I like that about you.” “Well, you like everything about everyone so I don’t feel too special,” Hoseok’s ‘thing’ is to be a happy ball of sunshine, literally brightening up people’s days. He’s super smiley and chatty with the customers, able to recognise people and remember their orders even if it’s only their second visit. He’s always dressed in neon colours, like orange and yellow, but he somehow manages to pull it off. When the clothes come off his personality doesn’t change a jot, although there are suddenly a lot more bros and dudes thrown into his sentences, and he’s pretty certain the guy has a stash of weed hidden in his bag. If Yoongi had met him on the street he would have immediately marked him down as the straightest frat boy ever to straight – but in fact the first time he saw him he was busy sticking his tongue down the throat of his long term boyfriend, so clearly appearances can be deceptive. Despite their polar opposite personalities, Yoongi actually really likes him. Besides, he’d already gained Jimin’s seal of approval – they were in the same dance team – and that usually counted for something. “Ok let’s go!” Hoseok announces with far too much enthusiasm, “I love Saturdays! People always tip extra on Saturdays!” Well, he might as well put some effort into it. Who knows, maybe he’ll still be needing that plane ticket to Chile after all. Yoongi is on his first break, trialling a slice of the new raspberry chocolate cake that Jin is perfecting the recipe for, when Jimin rushes in and grabs him by the shoulders, knocking the fork from his hand. “Hey!” He protests. “I was enjoying that!” “Great, but I’ve got something to tell you and the cake can wait!” He grins, practically vibrating with excitement. “What?” “OK, you’re not going to believe this – and honestly I would have bet like my whole house on it not happening so it’s a good thing that I didn’t since it is – but I was going about my business, serving customers, serving up looks, you know the deal and –” “Cut to the bloody point before I cut you,” Yoongi interrupts him with a scowl. “Fine, spoil sport,” Jimin sighs dramatically. “Jeon Jungkook is here.” “Right.” He replies. He picks up his fork. He shovels another mouthful of cake into his mouth. “Hey, hello!” He waves a hand in front of his face, “Did you not just hear me? Has Yoongi.exe stopped working? I said that Jungkook was here, sitting right outside on table nine.” “No I heard you just fine,” Yoongi replies in a dead voice. “I’m just having a mental break down and entering a never ending spiral of despair and panic.” “Ok well, make it a quick one because your shift is about to start again.” Jimin pats him on the shoulder. “What part of never ending do you not get?” He hisses. “I am in great distress here!” “Well… if you like, I can let Jin hyung know that you’re having a gay crisis and need some love advice?” “You little shit, you wouldn’t dare!” Yoongi snaps. “He’ll just make terrible puns and demonstrate some of his godawful pickup lines – oh god I can already feel my ear drums caving in on themselves in self-defence!” “Guess you’ll just have to pull it together and get back out there then,” Jimin winks at him and then saunters off smugly. “One day, I will show Taehyung all the illicit photos you’ve taken of him and then you’ll be sorry.” He mutters vengefully, mostly for his own benefit. Ok. He can do this. It’s not that hard. It’s not like he has all of his dignity, sanity, pride and general sense of self-worth at stake. Nope. All he has to do is go out there and stoically ignore him until closing time. Just serve other people and make eye contact exclusively with the floor, the ceiling and that weird picture of a kitten playing with a ball of string. Actually, maybe not the kitten. It creeps him out. This plan works well for approximately five seconds, in other words the minute Yoongi steps out into the main room of the café he starts to sweat profusely and his eyes automatically find Jungkook. He watches him take off his hat, running a hand through his hair to flatten it down and tugging awkwardly at the neck of his baggy sweater. His sleeves are too long and come down past his wrists, enveloping his hands. Somehow the clothes make him look small and adorable. There’s a violin case hiding under the table, just poking out past the hem of the fancy table cloth. Oh. He plays. Yoongi swallows and turns around swiftly. He’s not doing this right now; he’s got customers to serve. So he plasters on a fake smile and approaches a group of teenage girls to take their orders. The irritation of dealing with their indecisiveness – and complicated arrangements of trying to share half a biscuit between three of them whilst a fourth has a four course meal – serves as a suitable distraction. In fact, now that he’s gotten over the shock, he does quite a good job at sticking to his plan, constantly bustling about the room, making frequent trips to the kitchens even when there are no orders to relay or dishes to deliver, never glancing at the table on the left where Jungkook is sitting. He pretends that section of the café doesn’t exist, like there’s a black hole taking up the space and he can’t get too close to it or he’ll get sucked in. He certainly feels like there’s a gravitational force pulling him towards it. Half an hour later he’s preparing a pot of tea in the kitchen and feeling quite pleased with himself when Jimin and Hoseok corner him. “Yoongi, we’re staging an intervention!” Jimin announces dramatically, slamming a hand down on the counter. “You made me spill the tea, asshole!” Yoongi snaps, one hundred percent not in the mood for whatever shit the younger is about to pull. “Stop fussing and start listening!” He orders, somehow managing to be scary in baby blue. “You’ve been avoiding the problem for too long!” “It’s only been half an hour! What am I supposed to do? Write him a love confession in syrup?” he asks sarcastically. “Well it would be better than hiding!” “I’m not hiding.” Yoongi tries to protest, but then realises how untrue of a statement it is and gives up. “I don’t even get why you’re attacking me right now!” “Because it’s getting out of hand!” “Out of hand? Again. I repeat. It’s only been half an hour and I’ve literally done nothing!” “Exactly!” “Hang on, excuse me,” Hoseok interrupts, looking utterly confused. “Could we like slow down for a minute here? What exactly is going on? You said this was about the kid at table nine.” “It is about table nine,” Jimin sighs, “Long story short, Yoongi has the mother of all crushes on him” “Jimin!” Yoongi hisses, trying to convey with his poisonous tone quite how many metaphorical fish he is metaphorically buying right now to stick in a metaphorical underwear drawer. “Yoongi has a crush on table nine? The cute kid with the bunny teeth?” “The very one. I don’t personally get it, but whatever –” “You wouldn’t.” Yoongi snorts derisively, “Pretty blondes with big hands are more your thing,” “Well, you know what they say about big hands,” Jimin winks. “Guess that’s why yours are so small then” Ok, that was a low blow, but come on! How could he resist? “You little –” He snarls “I’m sorry.” Hoseok interrupts, probably saving Yoongi’s life. “Are we still talking about table nine or…?” “Right, back to the story –” Jimin grins maliciously, clearly set on making the whole ordeal as embarrassing as possible for Yoongi, which is probably fair given the joke he just made. But like, did it have to be in front of Hoseok? “One word more and I swear to everything gay in this world –” “So hyung has never said a word to him but has a massive heart boner and goes to all his baseball practices –” “With you, you hypocrite!” “And now he’s avoiding him because he’s embarrassed about being caught working in a maid café – but mostly because he’s incapable of functioning around him no matter the setting.” Jimin finishes with a snicker, “I had to work very hard to talk him out of buying plane tickets to like Argentina!” “Chile.” Yoongi corrects, always a stickler for details. “Oh…kay?” Hoseok stares at them both for a minute and then shrugs, clearly giving up on deciphering their bickering, “So does this have something to do with why he won’t order anything?” “What?” He frowns, confused. “Every time Jimin and I come by he says he hasn’t decided yet,” He explains. “I swear he’s staring at that menu so hard he’s gonna burn holes into it! And he always looks super disappointed when talk to him? It’s weird, man.” “Well obviously he’s waiting for Yoongi to come take his order,” Jimin declares like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “He’s only here for him!” “Oh, he likes you too?” “Until two days ago we’re pretty sure he didn’t even know Yoongi existed –” “That’s not true! He recognised me!” Yoongi protests, feeling the need to defend himself even though he’s secretly hoping that by some miracle Jungkook has now forgotten him again. “So….?” “Basically, the first time he walked in our boy –” “My boy – I mean man, I mean –” “He took one look at Yoongi in that cute, little –” “Monstrosity.” “Dress and fled with the reddest face I’ve ever seen. Bless!” “Oh ok, I think I get it now! So you,” Hoseok points at Yoongi, “Are in love with table nine–” “Love is a bit strong.” “And obsession is more accurate…” Jimin snorts, getting in another blow. “Fuck off Jimin!” “And table nine… might have feelings for you too?” He continues bravely. “If the feelings are lust, sure,” “You’re such a dick.” “So he won’t order something unless you serve him?” “Exactly!” Jimin grins. “Well that’s easy then,” Hoseok perks up. “It is?” Yoongi asks wearily. God this was turning into such a long day. “Of course! You just go out and take his order. Problem solved!” “Problem solved?” He repeats incredulously. “You really have no grasp of the situation!” “You’re just thinking too much, dude,” He pats him on the back. “Go on. Take his order or we’re gonna have to kick him out.” “What!” “Those are the rules, hyung,” Jimin smirks, sensing a victory. “If you’re not a paying customer you gotta leave.” “But –” Yoongi begins to protest, to tell them how unfair it would be to do that to Jungkook because he’s just a shy kid and then he’ll never come back here again and – wait isn’t that what he wants? Maybe this could work out for him… Agh but he can’t bear to even think about the humiliation it would cause him. Dammit, he’s so whipped. “Ok fine. I’ll go. But if a giant chasm opens up in the floor to swallow me whole so I can escape my misery, it’s your fault!” “We’ll make sure to send you the bill!” Jimin smiles and then shoves him in the direction of the door to the main room. Right. He can do this. No biggie. Nothing to panic about. Yep. Easy peasy lemony squeezy. “More like difficult difficult lemon difficult,” Yoongi mutters to himself bitterly. “Fuck my life in the literal ass! Ugh!” But he takes a deep breath and he schools his face into a perfect fake smile and he approaches Jungkook’s table with measured steps and he clears his throat to get the younger’s attention and opens his mouth and says, “Are you ready to order, sir?” Nailed it. Jungkook’s head snaps up from where he had been glaring at his menu like it had personally offended him and chokes out a strangled, “Huh?” Yoongi’s brain short circuits for a moment because oh god this is the closest he has ever got and he has a little scar on his cheek – did he get that from sport? Was it a childhood accident? Will Yoongi ever know?? – and light freckles – from so much time in the sun? Doesn’t matter. He’s so cute! How does he function in the face of such beauty? “Are you ready to order?” He asks again, voice breaking at least twice, “Sir?” “Uh…” Jungkook blinks at him. “C-can I have the um… the str-strawberry cheesecake. Please?” “Ok, sir. And anything to drink?” Wow look at him go. So professional. He deserves a raise for this. “Um” He squeaks, eyes darting back and forth in panic. “I uh…” “May I recommend the special we have on today, sir?” Yoongi suggests. “It’s rose infused Maesil Cha.” “Oh ok.” Jungkook nods rapidly. “Suh-sounds good.” “Wonderful. That’ll be out shortly then, sir,” He bows and rushes away. Yoongi had only just got through the whole ordeal by picturing himself stabbing a voodoo doll with Jimin’s face on it. But honestly he’s dying inside and wants to crawl in a small, dark place and stay there for at least three years. Except he still has some cake to deliver. The rest of the afternoon crawls by at a snail’s pace. Every time Yoongi enters the main room of the café and sees that Jungkook is still there, he is both horrified – because he’s wallowing in a pit of shame and embarrassment and like really wants to snog him but hey he’s working so that would be unprofessional – and relieved – also because he wants to snog him. God, he’s just so good to look at! When he’s in the kitchen all he can think about is the adorable little face he pulled when he took his first sip of tea and it was too hot or the way he cups his mug with both hands – how can that be a kink? Oh well, it is – or the way his eyes went wide with enjoyment at his first bite of cake. When he’s out serving customers, all he can focus on is the feeling of the younger’s eyes following him round the room. And whenever he’s forced to look in his direction – it’s definitely for necessary reasons. Yep – he catches him looking away with a guilty expression like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. It’s hard work. Jungkook doesn’t leave until it’s nearly closing time and all the other tables are empty. Even then he lingers in the doorway for far longer than is necessary, violin case slung over one shoulder and the collar of his coat turned up to protect his face from the cold. And then finally, finally, he’s gone and Yoongi can relax. Sure he also feels a little bereft, but honestly he was wound up so tight that another half an hour and he might have exploded or just quietly expired in the stores cupboard, only to be found days later. A sorry fate. “Aww dude!” Hoseok bursts into the dressing room. “Your guy is so cute!” “He’s not my guy,” Yoongi sighs. “You look like you’ve just survived a close encounter with death,” Jimin tells him bluntly as he kicks off his shoes. “Maybe I have.” He groans. “Seriously he’s adorable!” Hoseok insists, “And so young! Bro, you’re a cradle snatcher!” “Hey fuck off!” Yoongi protests, sitting up, “He’s like two years younger than me. Max.” “Maybe it’s just your natural old man personality that confuses us,” Jimin laughs. “Wow I hate all of my friends. All of you are terrible people.” “Love you too hyung” ~ Yoongi had mistakenly assumed that his next shift would be free of Jungkook induced heart attacks, and yet the minute the café opened in the morning, there he was in the doorway, this time sans violin, shuffling his feet back and forth as he waited to be seated. Hoseok was not on shift and so he was unceremoniously shoved out into the arena (it felt like he was gonna be mauled by lions ok?) by Jimin and left to his fate. This time, after a Cherry tart and Jasmine tea, he left around lunchtime, reluctantly dragging his feet as he got up to go, drawing out every last second and shooting longing glances over his shoulder. (Well, Yoongi was probably imagining that last bit… but hey! A man could dream). Then Jimin informed him that the clock was running fifteen minutes slow and he bolted out the door with a look of pure, unfiltered panic on his face. He must have had a lecture. Yoongi was absolutely sure that he would not return a second time, after all, who had the money and the spare time to visit a maid café every day? The prices weren’t exactly cheap, although the younger managed to spin a small amount of food out over a large amount of time. But once again his expectations were confounded and Jungkook appeared at what was becoming his ‘usual’ table, and ordered a blueberry muffin and the speciality drink of the day: peach iced tea. By the fifth consecutive shift of coming out of the kitchen and almost dropping a teapot/slice of cake/whole tray in shock, Yoongi resigns himself to his fate. Clearly Jungkook is going to make a habit of this, and though he is deeply concerned about – slash envious of – the state of his wallet, he’s not going to stop him. He starts to settle into the routine of having Jungkook around. He turns up at the same times each week, fitting the visits around his college schedule with such regularity that it becomes possible to predict his arrival with great accuracy. He finds himself subconsciously waiting for him, always looking to the door in hope and breaking into a smile – which Jimin gives him no end of grief for – every time he sees him. Frequent exposure also helps to overcome his extreme social awkwardness. He feels a great swell of pride the first time he manages to take his order without his voice cracking. (One small step for man, one giant leap for gaykind). Yoongi learns a lot of things about him: like how he has a sweet tooth and doesn’t like coffee because “it’s too bitter” and he hums quietly when he’s concentrating and a syrup heart on the edge of a plate is enough to make him blush. This last piece of information is filed away for further use – A.K.A putting syrup hearts on all his plates. The syrup hearts eventually find their way onto every customer’s plate – which has the unexpected side effect of earning him more tips – since he is so often thinking about the younger, about his adorable bunny toothed smile or his ink stained fingers or his muscly legs. In his state of blissful distraction, he sometimes even makes the mistake of tracing out a few characters (the hangul for my love or beautiful for example) and then has to hastily eradicate the evidence of his infatuation and get a clean plate. His breaks are most often spent surreptitiously hovering by the door to the main room, trying to catch a glance of table nine and its occupant. Today however, he’s been banished to the kitchen because Hoseok and Jimin thought he was getting in the way too much and causing a bottleneck. Or to quote: “I have lost all tolerance for navigating the obstacle course of your heart boners. Go lurk somewhere else!” And: “You need to relax dude, he’s not gonna disappear if you break eye contact for more than five seconds!” So Yoongi finds himself sitting at a work top at the maximum distance from Jin – he is in a particularly buoyant mood and keeps asking him embarrassing questions about Jungkook because someone had leaked the information after someone else “accidentally” ripped that first someone’s hideous fishnet stockings to avoid having to wear them. Anyway, he’s also singing cheesy love songs far too loudly. It’s hell. By chance there happens to be a clean plate and a bottle of raspberry syrup next to him – not because he went to the effort of finding both those items in order to practice the perfect heart… nope definitely just a chance occurrence. But since they’re here, he really ought to, right? If asked he can always say that he’s refining his skills in order to provide the best service. It would be super convincing. Yoongi starts with a little bunny, frowning at its dreadfully uneven ears that seem to get worse with each attempt to neaten them up.  Then he adds ‘Kookie’ in his nicest handwriting, attempting that fancy, curling script that Hoseok is so good at. Then he returns to the basics and decorates the rim of the plate with little hearts, interspersed with flowers just to broaden his artistic horizons. After much internal debate, he decides on a violin for the opposite side to balance out the rabbit, leaving just enough room for a slice of cake in the middle. It’s not exactly a masterpiece, but he’s kind of pleased with it and so, in a fatalistic act of hubris he would come to regret, he goes to the changing room to fetch his phone so that he can take a photo. Life (and his best friend) clearly hates him for he returns just in time to see Park Jimin snatch up the plate with a gleeful smirk. “Give that back!” Yoongi demands, dread rising like bile in his throat. “Nope!” Jimin says, winking at him. “There’s a customer waiting for this!” Normally Yoongi would have the advantage of height – well… just about. But when it comes to winning a fight with Jimin, once centimetre can feel like one foot – but today the little shit is wearing six inch stilettos that could end a man’s life and he doesn’t fancy his chances. “That’s not for a customer and you know it!” He hisses, not wanting to raise his voice in case Jin heard. “Now give it back before I break you!” “That would definitely infringe on employment protection laws – now I must be going!” “He didn’t even order cake!” Yoongi tries one last desperate line of reasoning. “Guess it’ll have to be on the house then!” Jimin says cheerily, “Come now, Yoongles, Jin hyung wouldn’t want us to be wasting resources, would he?” “Don’t you Yoongles me you little fu –” His words are cut short by a hand clamping down on his shoulder “Yah! Yoongi-chi!” Jin scolds him, face the perfect picture of disappointment. “What did I say about swearing within earshot of the customers?” “Not to do it,” He answers hurriedly, “But –” But Jimin had already made his escape, darting past him into the main area of the kitchen, pouncing upon a freshly baked strawberry tart and sliding it onto the plate with practiced ease. “Sorry, a customer is waiting for this, can’t hang around to chat!” He grins, winking obnoxiously. Yoongi lunges after him but is pulled back with a horrified, “Don’t fight in front of the customers!” By the time he manages to wriggle out of Jin’s grasp, both physically and metaphorically, it’s too late. Jimin is delivering the tart and thus resigning him to his fate. All he can do is watch from the doorway and try not to scream “I’m sorry but I uh… I didn’t order this?” Jungkook says, eyes wide in confusion. “Oh that’s ok,” Jimin giggles and does his cutesy little crescent eye smile and Yoongi is filled with rage. “It’s on the house! From an admirer. Enjoy!” “A – a what?” He splutters, but Jimin has already whirled away to flirt with another customer. The tips of his ears are already flushed a bright scarlet, and honestly he looks so pained that Yoongi is concerned he might have stopped breathing, but then he looks up and flashes a small smile in his direction. Oh fuck. He saw him. 
Plane to Argentina, here we come.
 
~
 These days Yoongi is brave enough to sit a little lower on the stands, and sometimes doesn’t even bother to bring lunch or a book as an excuse, just casually appearing like he just happened to be on campus and passing through. They act much the same towards one another in university as they ever did – i.e. they ignore one another and Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice Yoongi staring at him. Except every so often he’ll catch his eye in class and they’ll both hurriedly look away in embarrassment. Or maybe he’s imagining the blush on Jungkook’s face out of sheer hope. Since the whole syrup incident, which Yoongi has not yet – and in fact never will – forgive Jimin for, he has given up any pretence of possessing dignity. He puts little drawings on all of his plates – bunnies or flowers or violins or even musical notes – and sometimes writes messages in the middle before covering them over with the cake, confident that Jungkook won’t be able to read them.  “Which just seems like a massive waste of time” Jimin says halfway through the latest episode of Personal Preference, shoving another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. For once, Yoongi isn’t sharing, since his love life is arguably going quite well – especially compared to Jimin’s. “And of syrup, for that matter” “Keeps me occupied,” He shrugs, “Besides it helps me brainstorm.” “Brainstorm for what?” He asks and then frowns in disgust. “Oh… Oh no, please tell me you aren’t writing love songs for him! Ugh, I’m gonna be sick,” “That’ll be the ice cream,” Yoongi says, gently removing the tub from his hands. He’ll thank him later. “And yes, I am. My comp professor is obsessed with us ‘writing passion’ into our music – whatever the fuck that means. Apparently my previous stuff wasn’t ‘authentic’ enough for him, but he’s lapping up this stuff.” He had submitted one (1) dodgy love song entirely composed in syrup and now his professor wouldn’t accept anything else. He wouldn’t normally compromise his creative principles so easily – he may adore Jungkook, but music has been his one true love since he was old enough to sit on a piano stool – but he’d forgotten about the assignment til five minutes before the blasted thing was due. “What were you writing about before? Dicks, ramen and sleep?” Jimin asks snarkily, “Ooh that could be your album title!” “Yeah, well at least I’m getting somewhere,” Yoongi grumbles. “It’s called using all the resources at hand. Maybe you should give it a go,” “What am I gonna do? Woo him with a chemical formula? H20, I’m a ho, please come and live in my bed for three months?” He snaps, throwing his head back against the sofa with a frustrated huff. “That doesn’t rhyme” He mutters, but gives him a reassuring pat on the knee anyway. Taehyung’s latest fling has lasted longer than expected and Jimin keeps sending him his creepy stalker photos of the couple holding hands or snogging in the locker room – he… just isn’t going to ask – with a ‘that should be me’ and a lot of exclamation marks and crying emojis. He feels he owes him some sympathy. He can relate. “You never know, maybe he’ll turn up at the café too" ~ “You’ll never fucking believe it!” Are Jimin’s first words to him when he picks up the phone. “If this is about that fucking banana dude again, I am blocking you” Yoongi snaps, closing his eyes to try and force out his oncoming headache. And no, you don’t want to know about the banana dude. “It’s not. It’s much better than that,” “That’s setting the bar pretty fucking low,” He coughs, making an ugly hacking sound that he hopes is just as disgusting on the other end of the line. God his throat feels like he’s swallowed a grater. “Ugh. Do you have to be so gross?” “I can’t help it,” Yoongi complains. “Besides, serves you right for calling me when I’m at death’s door.” “Pssh, it’s just a cold,” Jimin scoffs. “Don’t make such a fuss!” “Why did you call me just to be mean?” “I didn’t, though it is fun,” There’s an obnoxious giggle that almost makes Yoongi hang up. “I called to tell you that – no wait, you have to guess! Guess who’s here!” “I don’t know… Lee Minho” “No – you think I’d be wasting my time calling you if I could be serving Lee Minho?” “Fair enough. Go on tell me who it is then,” He sighs and then adds sarcastically, “The suspense is killing me.” “It’s Taehyung!”  “Oh.” 
“Seriously is that it? Just ‘oh’?”
 “You’re the one who’s obsessed with him. I don’t see why I should be excited.” Yoongi grins. “So have you served him yet?” “No I’m in the back room” “What are you doing there? Don’t you – oh. Oh my god. You’re hiding,” He laughs. “I am not hiding!” Jimin protests. “Yes you are! Oh, this is hilarious! You’re too embarrassed to talk to him, aren’t you?” “Fuck off, Min Yoongi!” He hisses. “You’re in no position to make fun of me!” “Oh no, but you see I am” He corrects him with a gleeful grin. “Because of the syrup incident tm.” “That worked out for you! I had your best interests at heart!!” “All very well for you to say that now after the fact. Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy my suffering” “I’ll have you know I’m a good person,” Jimin sniffs indignantly. “You’re chaotic neutral at best” Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Now get your ass out there and get your man. Sit down at his table and offer to feed him or some kinky shit like that. Bet he’d be into it.” “No way! He’s here with Jungkook and –” He cuts off suddenly. “What?” He asks, heart suddenly sinking “Fuck. I think they’re here on a date.” “Together?” “No, on two separate dates. Of course together, you idiot” “Don’t at me I’m ill!” He snaps. “Are you sure you’re right?” 
“Yes, I’m sure.”
 “Like sixty percent sure or ninety percent?” 
“Like Jin hyung looking at his reflection sure. I know he just dumped Minjae but you should see them! They’re holding hands and Tae keeps reaching forward to pinch Jungkook’s cheeks. Ugh it’s sickening. ”
 “Fuck.” Yoongi groans. All his previous enjoyment at Jimin’s expense completely destroyed. Now he truly had no chance. After all, why would Jungkook choose him – a weird guy he barely knows and seems incapable of stringing a sentence together in his presence– over Kim fucking Taehyung, obnoxious gay extraordinaire? “Damn Jeon Jungkook and his stupid long legs and his stupid muscles and his stupidly perfect skin!” Jimin complains bitterly, “I’m way cuter than he is!” “Sure you are,” He sighs, “Look, I’m feeling like shit right now. Gonna take a nap.” “Right” He pauses, clearly taken aback that Yoongi had agreed with him. “Yeah. I’ll leave you to rest.” “That’d be great. Talk to you later – try to remain professional.” “I am wounded that you assume I wouldn’t” “I have two words for you: banana and dude” “…Fair enough. Later hyung.” Yoongi truly does plan to nap; his head feels super fuzzy and his whole body aches. But congested sinuses and his extreme misery get in the way of his good intentions and he ends up alternating between staring listlessly at his phone and staring listlessly at the cracks in the ceiling. Oh and there’s also the spiral of despair that has him seriously considering quitting his job and never looking at Jungkook ever again. The whole go be a goat in Chile plan is always an option. But an hour later, when he’s finally dragged himself out of bed to make a bowl of ramen – a difficult task involving boiling the kettle and searching for the less blunt of their two pairs of scissors – he receives a new text from Jimin. 
13:05
 
Lil bitch:

omg hyung youll never guess what!!
 
Me:

wat
 
Lil bitch:

he gave me his number!!!1!1

Me:

who

?

Jungkook?
 
Lil bitch:

no u idiot

taehyung

he gave me his number and said

call me cutie

and he winked

he winked hyung!
 
Me:

oh

good for u
 
Lil bitch:

catch me sucking a dick under the stands cum Monday

haha get it

cum
 
Me:

tm fucking i bitch

i dont want to hear it
 
Lil bitch:

No?

what if i knew something about ur lil kookie

wouldnt u want to hear about that?
 
me:

…

maybe

is it good news?
 
Lil bitch:

say please!!
 
Me:

how about no
 
Lil bitch:

ok guess you don’t want to know
 
13:47
 
Me:

ok fine please
 
Lil bitch:

wow a whole 40 mins

am proud

what restraint
 
Me:

just tell me brat
 
Lil bitch:
sojungkook asked where u were 
Me:

thats it?

U made me say please for that
 
Lil bitch:

it an idiot

*ur

he asked where u were!

as in he was thinking about u

and he looked so disappointed when I said u were unwell

as in he was coming there for u

getting it yet?

oh

and he said

tell him to get well soon
 
14:23
 
Lil bitch:

yoongi

u ded?

come on its not that amazing

wow u r so whipped
 
15: 12
 
Me:

bitch

Disaster averted. ~ The start of the winter holidays theoretically means more free time but in practice means long hours of suffering over revision in preparation for the exams that some joyless administrator decided to put at the beginning of the next semester. So yes, Yoongi could take on more shifts, but he really shouldn’t be at this time of year and would in fact benefit from cutting down a bit to focus on revision. That would have been the sensible option, instead he finds himself there pretty much permanently. If Jungkook had gone home for the holidays, this wouldn’t have been so tempting – it’s not like he needs the money, by now he’s practically rolling in it – but most days he can also be found in the café. When not staring intently at textbooks and surrounded by sheets and sheets of music, he’s on the pitch, and Yoongi is invariably somewhere in the stands. He sits at his usual table staring intently at the textbooks spread out in front of him, and looking like he’d readily accept death to avoid facing midterms. Yoongi knows the feeling all too well. Sometimes he even brings his laptop – bless Seokjin for offering free Wi-Fi – and types away for an hour or two. What’s adorable is that he gets so absorbed in his work that he forgets about his tea and then hurriedly gulps it down in one go even though it’s gone stone cold. Yoongi has taken to surreptitiously topping up his cup with hot water, or even replacing it all together when the cup is too far gone. He’s way too busy to notice – if he did, he would be physically and mentally incapable of doing it – but it’s nice to see his surprise when it’s still warm. He also cuts him bigger slices of cake so that it’ll last him longer, but he’s spared the embarrassment of offering more on the house. This has the added benefit of not incurring Seokjin’s wrath as: “I do have a business to run, Yoongi-chi, you can’t just give everything away for free!”. He grumbles enough as it is about the bigger slices and extra tea. That being said, the elder has become quite fond of Jungkook, which is nice because Yoongi is of the firm opinion that everyone should be fond of Jungkook, but it’s also… problematic. “Ah young love!” Jin sighs dramatically, leaning back in his chair and almost taking Yoongi out with a sweep of his arm. Why did he have to end up seated next to him? Why? “You two are just perfect for one another. I remember when –” “Jin hyung,” Yoongi interrupts him. Yeah, so he might have caved on the honorifics front, but at least he’s allowed to be rude now. “You’re only a few years older than us – please don’t use the phrase ‘young love’. It’s sickening.” “You have so little respect for your elders!” Jin pouts and crosses his arms, clearly showing his great maturity. “I bet Jungkookie wouldn’t treat me like this. You don’t deserve him.” “You just said we were perfect for one another!” “Well I’ve changed my mind,” He says sulkily. “Where is Hoseok with those drinks? He left like… ten minutes ago!” “That’s not a long time” Yoongi mutters at the same time that Jimin smirks and says, “Oh, he met Namjoon on his way in. You know how distracted they get.” “Oh yes, I do” Jin grins lasciviously, wiggling his eyebrows in an unnecessarily suggestive manner. Only he could make four simple words sound so dirty. “Dear god, could you not!” Yoongi snaps, cutting him off before the inevitable pun was inflicted on them. He would be more tolerant of Jin’s ridiculousness if he didn’t use so much dreadful innuendo. It’s amazing how many food types one man can make unappealing with just a few bad jokes… “Don’t worry hyung,” Jimin says. “Yoongi is only grumpy because he hasn’t got laid in months and knows I’m getting some every other night” “Ugh for the love of – all things holy! Christ!” Yoongi curses. “If I hear one more thing about Taehyung and his big hands –” “Well, since you brought it up,” He winks “It’s amazing what those fingers can do…” “Oh my god!” If only Jin took the same attitude to appropriate behaviour during employee bonding time as he did to when there were customers about. It would save Yoongi so much suffering, mostly from Jimin and his inability to shut up about Taehyung. Sure he’s happy for him – especially as they have the good grace to favour Taehyung’s apartment over Yoongi’s, so that he isn’t turfed out every other night – but he just doesn’t have a filter. The details he’s had to put up with; he knows far more about the cheerleader’s, shall we say, prowess than he will ever want to know. He and Jimin may be extremely close, but they didn’t have that kind of friendship. Also, yeah, he’s a dumb and petty gay and he’s feeling jealous. It’s mostly his own fault seeing as he can’t work up the courage to actually talk to Jungkook outside of taking his order and occasionally inquiring after his day, if he’s in a particular courageous mood. But still, he wishes he could have what Jimin has… well, maybe a slightly less graphic version. Call him a sap but he’s a sucker for holding hands and cuddling. “Hey guys!” Hoseok returns at just the right moment, with Namjoon trailing after him. He sets down a tray of shots on the table and then slides into booth next to Jimin. “Budge up, Minnie!” “Hi” Namjoon smiles shyly. “I uh hope you don’t mind me joining you? Seok-ah invited me but… I didn’t realise it was a work thing! I don’t want to intrude.” “No, no! Of course you’re welcome!” Jin dismisses his worries with a furious wave of the hand. “Though now we won’t have equal teams for karaoke!” “Karaoke?” Yoongi groans. Karaoke is the devil’s work. “That’s ok, you can count me out.” “Don’t be ridiculous, Yoongi-chi!” He scolds him. “This is bonding time! You’ll enjoy it!” “Thanks, but I’m good” “No you’re not, have a shot” Yoongi accepts the drink foisted on him, mostly as a defence mechanism against whatever salacious topic Jin and Jimin are going to get onto next. He always tries to stop listening after the laughter starts. “Hey bro?” Hoseok leans across the table to talk to him.  “Yeah?” He has to raise his voice to be heard above the combined din of the bar and the shrieks coming from his ‘friends’ “Just a quick question,” He glances at Jimin, who is now making some… suggestive hand gestures. “If he’s like this when he’s sober…” “Really not that sober, Jimin is a lightweight” He snickers. “Even so” “You wanna know how bad he gets when he’s wasted?” “Yeah” “Depends on what kinda mood he’s in. At least we won’t get sad-drunk Jimin tonight, that can be a real dampener – quite literally actually. And since Taehyung isn’t here we won’t get horny-drunk Jimin either… so I’d put my money on angry-drunk Jimin” “Angry… drunk?” Hoseok asks warily. “Extremely willing to brawl at any moment” He elaborates “You just got to be careful not to get within range after he’s started on the shots.” “Man” Hoseok looks back at Jimin who now has quite a collection of empty shot glasses in front of him. “I am slightly terrified” “You and me both” As it turns out, despite his fierce insistence that he’ll have no part in it, Yoongi does get involved in the karaoke. At least, he’s told later that he did – by that point he’s so drunk (blame Jin and his endless cries of “Shots! Shots! Shots!”) he doesn’t remember anything but the vague outline. Thankfully (note the sarcasm) Jimin, being the marvellous friend that he is (again, sarcasm) makes sure to take endless shaky videos of him doing terrible renditions of songs about broken hearts and unrequited love. And, of course, one round of Jo Kwon’s I’m the One A.K.A the gay anthem. Clearly, he was the sad drunk of the evening. The biggest surprise is how much of a lightweight Namjoon turns out to be – he has so much limb, surely that counts for something? – and also how much of a personality change a little alcohol can bring on. In the dozen or so times he has come by the café to meet Hoseok when Yoongi is working, he has been polite but pretty reserved. Especially around Hoseok, whom he looked at with stars in his eyes and invariably broke stuff around because he couldn’t pay attention to at anything else. Rip all those nice tea sets… and that one table. But all it takes is one pint and suddenly he’s passionately monologuing about the importance of political engagement amongst the youth and explaining in great detail the many failings of the state that led up to the recent impeachment of the president. Yoongi has never been that involved in politics, but listening to Namjoon talk could convince the staunchest cave dweller to come out and register to vote. He goes onto espouse such rare and fantastical theories as the Fermi Paradox – for proving the existence or apparently otherwise (he gets a bit lost) of alien life – the Drunkard’s Walk theory of randomness – apparently he should never trust sports, but that’s fine because he’s only interested when Jungkook’s playing – and the idea that they could all be living in the matrix or a simulation run by a fifteen year old in his garage. These are mind-bending topics for sober academics. For drunken Art majors they’re a nightmare. Yoongi wakes up the next day with a pounding headache, a tonne of regrets, and Jimin sprawled out on top of him, fast asleep and snoring. He immediately decides that whatever reality he’s in, being awake is not worth it, and goes back to sleep. ~ Yoongi tugs on the white socks that have been left out for him with extreme resentment. When allowed a choice, he always goes for stockings, or better yet tights – failing all of that, bare legs are just about acceptable (but they’re on thin fucking ice). He hates the knee high school girl-esque socks with a passion; they’re a pain to get on and, despite being tight enough to restrict the blood flow in his calves, they’re apparently not capable of staying up for more than two seconds. Unfortunately, he got caught up talking to a professor after his last lecture of the day and had been forced to text Jimin to let him know that he was running late and would he please lay out some clothes for him. This is normally a mistake, granted, since he invariably ends up in something bright pink and overly fussy, but today has him racking his brains to figure out what exactly he has done to incur Jimin’s wrath. Because the dress left out for him is the worst one he has even seen. It’s a purple and green monstrosity that more closely resembles a gaudy Halloween costume than a respectable outfit. The excess of frilly white lace only serves to make the whole thing even tackier. “Are you almost ready?” Jimin asks, poking his head round the door. “It’s getting kinda busy out there.” “What the fuck is this?” Yoongi snarls, gesturing at the dress with as much disgust as he can manage. “And why can’t I find anything else? Come on, Jimin, I didn’t even put any fish in your underwear drawer!” “First of all, a single fish is enough for a year’s worth of punishment, I couldn’t get rid of the smell for weeks!” He scowls, folding his arms defensively. “And secondly, stop jumping to conclusions – it’s not even my fault!” “How is it not your fault? You chose it!” “Everything’s at the dry cleaners” He explains. “That was literally all I could find. I think it’s from a Halloween special Jin hyung did one year.” “Well…” Dammit, that’s actually a reasonable excuse. Now he can’t blame him. “What are you wearing then?” “This,” Jimin steps fully into the room to show off the blue and pink dress with the heart cut out of the bodice A.K.A Yoongi’s arch nemesis. “After last time I figured you would refuse to wear it.” This is also true, but despite all the extreme embarrassment attached and the safety of his nipples to consider, it’s looking tempting. “OK, what about – what about Hoseok?” There has to be a better option than this. God, anything but this! “He brought one from home” Jimin shrugs. “He owns quite a few of his, you know” “You can bring them from home?” Yoongi asks incredulously. “Why has no one told me this? I could have brought something!” “I don’t know, I feel like yours are all too kinky” “Jimin!” “Look, I genuinely feel sorry for you” He tells him with a surprising amount of sincerity. “I would tell you to go home but it’s super busy and we really need all hands on deck” “Do you reckon Hoseok’ll let me swap with him?” Yoongi asks in one last desperate attempt to escape the hideous dress. It looks like something you’d see in Monster Prom (… not that he plays a lot of dating sims. Definitely spends his time better than that. Haha.) “I’m sure he could pull this off better than me.” “Nah, it’s too short for him” He shakes his head. “Come on, it’s just one shift! We’ll have everything back by tomorrow.” “Easy for you to say, you don’t look like the Hulk!” He snaps and them grimaces. “Oh god, Jungkook is going to be here… Jungkook is going to see me in this!” “Don’t worry about that” Jimin snickers, back to his terrible self. “I hear Jungkook likes Marvel – though if you’re trying to impress him, you should probably find an Iron Man dress. Taehyungie tells me that’s his favourite!” “Why do you only pass on information from Taehyung when you’re trying to embarrass me?” He asks reproachfully. It had been something of a surprise to discover what close friends Taehyung and Jungkook were – mostly because they’re at complete opposite ends of the spectrum when it comes to flamboyancy. Annoyingly, although the cheerleader is a veritable treasure trove of information – and apparently quite invested in the Yoongi and Jungkook relationship – Jimin steadfastly refuses to tell him stuff. “Because it’s more fun that way” He shrugs. “Ugh! Stop bullying me and leave so that I can put my makeup on in peace” Yoongi snaps “Don’t you have customers to serve?” “Oh yeah right” Jimin lets out the long suffering sigh known to retail workers around the world. “Table four is gonna freak out if I don’t get them their tea soon. Do they expect it to just magically appear the minute they’ve placed their order? So annoying – they better leave a huge tip!” Despite all his worst (or best if we’re talking about self-preservation) instincts screaming at him to crawl into a cupboard and hide there for a few hours. Yoongi doesn’t delay any further; he’s going to suffer either way so he might as well get on with it. Also, Jimin might actually murder him if he abandons him to the cruel gods of retail. So, after a quick bit of lip gloss and a few strokes of the mascara brush, he plasters on his best customer service smile and heads out into the main room of the café, determined to exude confidence. His outfit garners a few concerned looks – and also a tip from a really out of place Goth girl, but hey you do you boo – but otherwise it’s not a complete disaster. That is to say, no one is openly laughing at him and no one has got up and left in disgust. Yoongi can’t decide if it’s relief or disappointment that greets him when twelve o’ clock rolls around and Jungkook doesn’t turn up as scheduled. On the one hand, maybe this means that he doesn’t have to worry about being seen in such a state. But, on the other hand, it’s a Wednesday, and Jungkook always turns up at twelve on a Wednesday. Although the few occasions that he’s missed Yoongi’s shifts have all been due to illness or the occasional impromptu baseball practice, a fifteen minute delay is enough for his anxiety to step in and inform him that obviously Jungkook doesn’t like him anymore and will never come back. Today, at least, Yoongi is far too busy working to stress over the younger’s absence today. With the café as full as it is, he’s faced with problems such as sore feet – he is constantly on the move, hurrying from table to table and in and out of the kitchen – broken crockery – it’s a known mathematical law: the more items on the tray, the more likely you are to trip and fall flat on your face in front of everyone – and a stiff face – all that fake smiling takes its toll. When he started, he’d assumed that busy periods would at least yield good tips, however this is not the case. Whilst it’s true that the overall tip total is pretty high, the average per table is much lower than usual – probably because when there’s only a few people around they get more attention – whilst the stress and irritation levels rise tenfold. Thus it’s not remotely satisfying. Anyway, it’s safe to say that he’s already exhausted halfway through his shift and insanely grateful for his ten minute break. He throws himself down onto a chair in the back room, letting out a sigh of relief and tries to massage some feeling back into his calves. Damn those stupid socks. Such is life, he only has about thirty seconds of peace before Jimin comes racing in with a gleeful smile on his face and probably bad news. “You’ll never guess what!” He declares breathlessly, clearly putting a lot of effort into suppressing his giggles. “Just tell me quickly and leave me alone” Yoongi groans. “This better be ground breaking or I swear it’s fishy socks for you mister!” “Don’t even dare!” Jimin scowls “Now I’m thinking of going out there and telling him you’re not here.” “Telling who – wait, has Jungkook arrived?” He sits up straight, suddenly feeling much more alert – though he’s not sure if it’s excitement or nerves.  “Yeah he has” He grins. “And he’s requested you.” “Right” Yoongi pauses. “Sorry what?” “He requested you.” He repeats super slowly, like he’s addressing a simpleton, which is frankly unfair given that he hasn’t the faintest clue what he’s talking about. “I don’t know what that means!” He complains. “It’s a special service we do – like a loyalty card deal basically. Once you’ve racked up enough visits you get to request a maid and they have to go sit at your table and talk to you for like forty minutes” Jimin explains. “Ugh, speaking of, I wish he hadn’t chosen now – we seriously can’t afford to be down a server. It’s worse than Furry day out there!”  “God, how much do you have to spend to earn a request?” Yoongi asks, deciding to focus on that horrifying idea rather than remember Furry day™ and have war flashbacks. Needless to say it was Jin’s idea. “A lot” He grins. “Well, cumulatively speaking anyway. Although Jungkookie’s actually spent enough to request you like three times, but I guess either he didn’t know about it or he didn’t have the courage.” “So…” God he’s too tired for this. “What do I have to do?” “I just told you!” He huffs. “It’s easy, just sit there and talk to him! I don’t know, maybe feed him his food if you’re feeling kinky, whatever you want” “I’m kind of… a little… that is to say – I don’t suppose I can get out of this? By any chance?” Yoongi rambles, desperately trying to stall so that his brain can catch up with his ears and he can come to terms with the momentous trial awaiting him. “Oh for god’s sake, hyung!” Jimin rolls his eyes. “He’s basically asked you on a date and you’re sitting here dithering? Just get out there!” “Oh” He says blankly. And no the analogy is not helping in the slightest. “Come on,” He pulls him to his feet and starts to pat him down, smoothing out his dress and checking his makeup. “You’ll do. We’ve put him at table two because everything else is full – god, have we recently had like a stellar yelp review? Have we been recommended by some random blog site? This is mad!” Yoongi follows him numbly, too busy panicking to worry about his ghastly dress. He’s going to have to sit with Jungkook. For forty minutes. Making conversation. He’s going to die. “Hello Jungkook” He hears himself say, which at least means that his vocal cords are working even if his brain has gone into meltdown. Technically, he should still be addressing him as sir but Jin’s book of etiquette can kiss his ass. “H-hi, Yoongi-ssi” Jungkook replies, looking up at him with his adorable doe eyes. “Please call me hyung” Oh wow, that was a good one, well done – he didn’t even stutter! He sees Jimin flash him a thumbs up from a table over. “Oh, ok, sure… hyung.” He smiles awkwardly, ducking his head to stare at the tablecloth like it’s suddenly the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. Fair enough, given that it’s the one with ‘the illuminati pattern but in pink’ as Jimin puts it. “What would you like to order today?” He asks him. “The special of the day is Cinnamon tea.” “I’ll uh have that then” He nods quickly. “And um… a slice of the coffee and walnut cake?” This is an unusual order for Jungkook – he doesn’t like bitter foods and never has anything coffee flavoured –  but Yoongi isn’t about to argue, especially as this is his cue to flee back to the kitchen and get five minutes respite from the ordeal while the tea brews. “You’ve got this, bro!” Hoseok tells him cheerfully, smacking him on the back in what was probably meant to be an encouraging gesture but only succeeded in making him cough. Yoongi is terribly envious of his dress, a stylish red affair that isn’t even as garishly bright as his usual choices. “You need to bring two cups!” Jimin stops him before he can get back out the door and fetches another cup for his tray. “And another fork… although. Ah. Yes you won’t be eating that. Oh well, I’m sure you can make it work” With this last cryptic sentence, he’s shoved out into the main room with a slightly heavier tray and a stomach full of particularly violent butterflies. He thinks he’s just about starting to adjust – unfortunately, it all goes downhill from there. Yoongi sits down opposite Jungkook and carefully pours out the tea – and his hands aren’t even shaking! Progress! – once this difficult task is completed he is faced with the prospect of making small talk for forty minutes, whilst trying to tune out the shrieks of the neighbouring table of teenage girls. “How are you?” Jungkook asks him after a few awkward seconds of them staring at one another. “Am great” Yoongi coughs, suddenly unable to sentence and desperately hoping that the younger hasn’t noticed. “Yeah, I’m good… and I hope you are too?” “Y-yeah” He nods and then takes a hurried sip of his tea to avoid having to say anything more (what a mood, honestly) immediately wincing as it burns his tongue. Then he nudges the plate of cake towards Yoongi. He stares at it for a moment, unsure what exactly is expected of him – oh god, does Jungkook want him to hand feed him? Can he do that? But there are people watching! And yeah, that is his only qualm, if you don’t like it you can fuck off. Wait, no, he was supposed to bring an extra fork. He means for him to eat it himself. Oh no. Jungkook clears his throat nervously, “Would you uh – would you like some? It’s coffee flavoured – well you know that – but I mean um… you like coffee right?” He’s looking at him so hopefully and Yoongi has never regretted his inability to eat nuts (shut up Jimin – yeah his allergies are the butt of many a joke. It’s discrimination, that’s what it is) more. How was he going to tell him?  “I uh do” Yoongi begins hesitantly. “Like coffee, that is. But…” “Oh please do have some” Jungkook pleads and for a moment he even considers inflicting death upon himself merely to avoid disappointing him. “I can’t” He tells him bluntly. “Nuts. I mean, I’m allergic to nuts, so I can’t eat it. I would though um…” “Oh” He looks crestfallen. “You enjoy it though!” Yoongi tries for a cheerful tone despite knowing that it’s hopeless and fate is not on his side. “Yeah” Jungkook awkwardly picks at the cake, pushing a forkful round the plate before reluctantly putting it in his mouth. Watching him as he morosely eats a cake he obviously doesn’t like, Yoongi feels both incredibly touched and extremely pained. The younger had ordered the cake specifically for him, even though he doesn’t like bitter things – he can only assume that he’s extrapolated a love of coffee from the cup that’s a permanent fixture in his hand whenever he’s on campus, which means that he notices him on campus, which yeah is kinda obvious since otherwise he’d never have recognised him in the first place but he’s never had it acknowledged like that and – ok, so he ordered it for him, which is adorable. But the outcome is so disastrous and awkward and oh god no one’s said anything for like a solid minute. He should say something. Jungkook must feel the same way because he suddenly says, “I like – I mean you look nice.” He immediately blushes a deep scarlet that spreads all the way to the tips of his ears. Why is he so beautiful and cute and precious and amazing in everything he does? It’s not fair on his poor gay heart. “I look like the Hulk” Yoongi blurts out. Damnit why can’t he take a compliment? “Huh?” “The Hulk? Purple and green – the dress that is, it’s like the Hulk… it’s a Halloween one I think. All the others are at the drycleaners” He’s rambling. Dear lord, why is he telling him this? Jungkook doesn’t care about the dry-cleaning! “Oh you like Marvel?” He smiles brightly and looks relieved to have found some common ground to talk about. “Iron Man is my favourite” “I’ve seen a few of the films” Yoongi answers truthfully, knowing that he doesn’t have the wherewithal to bullshit his way through this. He’s doing his best to sound interested anyway “The first one, with all of them in – Avengers Assemble? – and um the one with the guy who can control metal?” “Magneto” Jungkook deflates a little, realising that this is not a bountiful topic of conversation. “That’s the X-men.” 
Come on Yoongi think of something. Anything will do. No more awkward silences please!
 “You… had exams?” He asks uncertainly as if these were not the words he was excepting to come out. Small talk is so not his strong point. “How did they go?” God this is dire! Dear patron saint of the gays please come to him in his hour of need! Jungkook grimaces and mutters “Not well” “Oh… well, they’re not so important in first year!” He’s trying to sound encouraging but he’s just coming off as patronising. He looks up and catches Jimin’s eye again. This time his friend has his arms folded and is shaking his head pityingly at him. He can almost hear his tuts of disapproval. When he sees him looking he mouths “Sad” at him and moves on to the next table without any help beyond that demoralising comment. It does not get better from there. ~ Yoongi lets out a long, drawn out groan to express his state of extreme suffering, face pressed into the cushions of their worn out sofa – which is probably not the best idea given the mysterious stains and the thick layer of unidentifiable crumbs along all the seams – and kicks his legs a bit. He’s perfectly aware that he looks like a spoilt toddler having a half-hearted tantrum, but his arms are trapped under him and he can’t be bothered to extricate them in order to punch his frustration out on the sofa, so kicking will have to do. “Ugh” He tries again when there is no response forthcoming from Jimin. “Arghhhhh!” “What?” Jimin finally replies in an exasperated tone. “Can’t you tell I’m in pain and need attention?” Yoongi asks, voice muffled. “Yes, I’m just ignoring you.” He sounds distracted. “I hate you!” He wriggles onto his back so that he can stare at the ceiling morosely. “I hate myself more though.” “That’s new” Jimin leans on the back of the sofa to look down at him. “Now I’m genuinely concerned.” “Yeah I can tell by your voice” Yoongi says sarcastically, scowling up at him. “Can I please burn the Monster Prom dress?” “Jin probably won’t notice” He shrugs and moves off again out of sight. He wants to blame the dress, but in truth it was merely the distinctly sickly icing on top of a cake that was already crap due to his own personality defaults and inability to act like a normal human being in front of his crush. He missed so many opportunities to get the conversation going. He could have talked about music – maybe asked Jungkook about the Violin he often carries around with him, or what his focus was. He could have talked about Baseball, sure he barely understands the rules and has no knowledge of it beyond the narrow circuit of college games, but hell at least Jungkook would have been interested. Yoongi was just too stressed and embarrassed to go beyond small talk, hyper conscious of all the people staring at them and the unbearable pressure of trying to impress Jungkook. Maybe if he’d relaxed a little bit there wouldn’t have been so many awkward silences and it would have actually gone well. God he’s an idiot. If he was really being honest with himself – which given his current state of anguish, he definitely wasn’t up for – he’d admit that the ‘date’ was just a culmination of the long months of delaying on making a move. He’s earned enough money to take Jungkook out to a fancy dinner every night for a week and sometimes he passes flower shops and doesn’t feel personally attacked by the prices. Yet every time he’s come close to asking him, he’s chickened out, unable to face the possibility of rejection. (And yeah, he knows that Jungkook likes him – he can’t ignore the way he smiles at him or the amount of time he spends at the maid café just to see him – he’s just paralyzed by uncertainty and a lack of confidence.) “All my hopes and dreams have been crushed!” Yoongi moans (ignoring Jimin’s mutters of “And he says I’m the dramatic one”). “I’m never going to be able to look him in the eye again!” “When have you ever been able to look Jungkook in the eye?” “Shut up. That was a metaphorical statement.” Yoongi snaps. “Why did it have to go so badly? Those were the worst forty minutes of my life and I’ve watched sports on TV in the presence of straight men!”  “Yeah, to be honest it was painful to watch.” Jimin says bluntly. “Hey!” He protests, sitting up to give him a piece of his mind. He has spent over half an hour fishing for reassurance or at least a little sympathy and all he’s getting is a little more salt rubbed into his wounds. He does not appreciate it. “You can’t deny it.” He points out. Now that Yoongi is sitting up he has a good view of his friend and the outfit he’s wearing, namely something rather sparkly and extremely tight fitting. “No, obviously not!” He frowns. It’s Personal Preference night, why would Jimin be wearing his sexiest jeans? “But I kind of need you to be supportive right now!” “But I’m not the supportive friend, you know that.” Jimin says, making a rather good point. “I’m not sympathetic, I just laugh at all your problems until they go away – that’s how we work.” “Yes but…” Yoongi gives up with a sigh and turns to the more important matter. “Why are you all dressed up anyway – wait are you going out?” “Yeah” He replies nonchalantly, standing in front of the mirror in the hallway to touch up his makeup. “I’ve got a date with Tae.” “A date?” He asks incredulously. “But there’s a new episode of personal preference up!” “So?” “Jimin!” Yoongi exclaims in shock. “I’m sad! There’s a tub of ice cream in the freezer! There’s Personal Preference! This is our ritual!” “You can’t seriously expect me to stay?” Jimin turns to face him with his mascara half done and raises an eyebrow. The thing is, Yoongi knows that if he really needed him to, Jimin would stay. Sure, he’d never openly admit it, would complain the whole way through and then probably never mention it again, but he would. “And you can’t seriously be choosing Kim Taehyung over Personal Preference!” He says mockingly, though of course he knows the answer – he would do the same for Jungkook in a heartbeat. But come on, fictional men are always more faithful to you. “Hyung!” Jimin whines, pouting at him and really bringing out all the heavy weaponry to get his way. “Look, this isn’t just a fling ok? I really like him.” “I know you do…” He sighs and then turns serious. “Real talk for a sec, though, does he really like you?” “Yes!” He grins and Yoongi only has to take one look at his face to know that it’s true; he’s so happy he can barely contain it. “It’s serious, I swear! Look, he bought me this!” Jimin fishes a silver pendent – the expensive kind that’s simple but effortlessly classy – out from under his shirt to show it off to him, “Pretty right?” “Ugh!” Yoongi groans. “Ok go, you sap. Have a sickeningly nice time and don’t tell me any of the details when you get back. I’ll eat the ice cream by myself” “Don’t make yourself sick!” He grins, and with a last glance in the mirror grabs his coat and heads for the door. “Love ya, you’re the best!” “And you’re the worst!” He yells after him without much feeling. Yoongi listens to the door slamming and slumps back down onto the sofa. He realises then that Jimin didn’t even ask him to save the episode of Personal Preference for when he’s around – a true sign that his relationship really is serious. He could watch it by himself, but it’s never as entertaining. He ends up resorting to bad fanfiction and finishes the whole tub of ice-cream whilst still lying in a depressed heap on the sofa. This turns out to be a mistake. ~ Yoongi’s music theory lectures are always a bit of a bore, even with the pleasure of staring at the back of Jungkook’s pretty head for most of it (he makes sure to always sit right at the back so as to have a good view of him). Now that he’s drowning in humiliation and shame and never wants to see Jungkook again – well, really what he wants is to go back in time and erase the whole awful incident, but that’s not scientifically possible so this is what he’s stuck with – they’re a whole lot worse. He’s already resigned himself to an hour of boredom interlaced with misery, whenever his thoughts wander away from the lecturer as they inevitably will. He has his laptop set up in front of him with an empty word doc open ready to take notes that won’t make any sense later. He also has a browser page open loaded to pictures of Lee Minho in Personal Preference for when things get tough. In fact he’s staring at it now for a little bit of mental fortitude, having long given up on any concerns that other students might see it. He’s been carefully cultivating an air of intimidation and unapproachableness ever since fresher’s week to ensure that no one bothers him, especially the overly cheerful ones trying to get him to join a sports team (as if) and whilst it would be a shame to disabuse them all of the notion, he’s frankly beyond caring at this point. Yoongi is vaguely aware of another student sitting down next to him and spreading out their things, but he doesn’t look up from Lee Minho in all his glory until they clear their throat to get his attention. This in itself surprises him as he’s normally joined by Hani, whose main form of greeting is to punch you in the arm if she’s feeling friendly and steal your pens if not. When he looks up, however, he’s in for the shock of his life. Jeon Jungkook has sat down next to him and is now smiling shyly at him. Yoongi wonders if he somehow got hit by a car on the way onto campus that morning and is now in heaven. Then again, it’d be a pretty shitty heaven if he still had to go to musical theory lectures. “Hi hyung” Jungkook says, shifting awkwardly in his seat, gaze constantly darting to the space between them as if he’s not sure it’s enough – or is debating moving closer? Well, he can dream. “H-hi” Yoongi replies, utterly baffled and unsure of how to deal with the situation. This is uncharted territory; they’ve never acknowledged each other’s existence outside of the café before. Sure, occasionally their eyes have met across the hallway and they’ve both simultaneously sped up and hurried off in different directions. And he has to have noticed how many of his practices he turns up to by now. But still, they’ve never spoken. Yoongi is inwardly debating over whether hastily closing the lid of his laptop would be more embarrassing than leaving it up, when Jungkook glances at the screen and asks, “Oh you watch Personal Preference?” “Yeah” He nods and then tries and fails to come up with a good excuse for all the pictures. “Yeah I was just – yeah. I do. Do you? Watch it?” “Uh huh” Jungkook smiles and oh that is such a pretty smile. “Choi Dobin is the coolest!” “Yeah, he is!” For the next five minutes before the lecture begins, they fall into an easy chat about personal preference, discussing the plot – how they both wished it had ended in gay romance – and their favourite characters – or least favourite in the case Kim Inhee. It’s so much more relaxed and natural than those dreadful forty minutes at the café, enough that Yoongi is actually able to forget all of the previous awkwardness between them and just enjoy the conversation. They sit through the lecture together, but this time Yoongi has a front row view (literally) of Jungkook. He does his best not to stare and tries to focus on the slides and on taking notes, but it’s just so hard. His side profile is so pretty and his eyes are drawn to all the little details; the little scar on his cheek, the delicate slope of his nose, the slight redness in his cheeks, the moles on his neck, the frown he makes as he concentrates. Yoongi could watch him like this for hours, but all too soon the lesson is over and they’re packing up their stuff to leave. “Uh Hyung. Do you think you could help me with some of this?” Jungkook asks him. “There are just a couple of topics from last term that I really don’t get… I mean it’s ok if you don’t have the time! But I’d really appreciate it.” “Yeah sure” Yoongi answers without thinking. “I’d be happy to.” He’s suddenly feeling terribly confident; their last meeting was such a disaster that he’s actually strengthened by the idea that he couldn’t possible do worse. Besides, music is his area of expertise, he can do this. “Could we… could we meet up some time?” He asks hesitantly. “Yeah no problem” Yoongi’s heart is going five miles a minute but he doesn’t allow himself time for self-sabotage (take that, anxiety!) “Do you – do you want to come by my flat this evening?” “OK, sure, that works for me” Jungkook says hurriedly, cheeks blushing a bright shade of red. “Can I have your number? Just so I know where to go!” Yoongi hands over his phone numbly – he can’t believe this is real. Is this real? – so that Jungkook can send himself a text. He giggles when he sees the home screen, “Is this your dog?” “Yes” He says hurriedly, filing away the beautiful sound to be replayed in his head a hundred times later on. “He’s called Holly. But he’s at home back in Daegu, not here with me” “He’s cute!” Jungkook hands the phone back. Their fingers brush as he accepts it and tingles race up his arm. “I bet you miss him. I miss my dog tonnes!” “Yeah I do” Thank you Holly for causing such a precious smile. “So… is five good? I’ll text you the address” “Y-yeah that’s perfect” He stutters, suddenly shy again. “See you then!” And he runs off, slinging his bag over one shoulder and leaving the lecture hall as quickly as feasibly possible. Yoongi is left standing in the empty seats completely alone. A new class will be starting soon so he should really be leaving, but he’s savouring the moment. Dear god he just asked him on a date didn’t he? ~ It’s a quarter to five when Yoongi realises that he’s neglected to inform Jimin of his pseudo date. Whilst it probably isn’t going to go anywhere, he’d still rather not have his best friend hanging around and embarrassing him – he doesn’t need the extra pressure. Then again, telling him will expose him to endless mockery. But hell, he’s been exiled from the flat more than enough times, Jimin owes him one. 
4:47
 
Me:

can u stay out tonight?
 
Lil Bitch:

!!!!!!

bitch spil

whos the mans

well obvs its jungkook

wait is it really jungkook?

or someone else

damn you move on fast
 
Me:

of course its Jungkook u dipshit
 
Lil Bitch:

yas

i can’t believe u got him to go on a date with u
 
Me:

well

not exactly
 
Lil Bitch:

oh god

how have u fucked up this time?
 
Me:

i havemt!

*haven’t

he asked me to help with a music thing

he’s in my class
 
Lil Bitch:

I know

u never shut up about it
 
Me:

anyway I invited him round
 
Lil Bitch:

so what ur telling me

is that ur kicking me out

for

a

study sesh?

u don’t want me to hear ur cheesy love songs or something?

cos dw I don’t want to either
 
Me:

can u stay out or not?
 
Lil Bitch:

yh of course

ill go to tae’s
 
Me:

thank
you
 
Lil Bitch:

go get urself sum

do ur inner ho proud
 
Me:

that would be u
 
Lil Bitch:

rude

actually no I’ll take it

i’m everyone’s inner ho

Satisfied that he and Jungkook will at least have a little peace, Yoongi sets about making finishing touches to the room. He’d started on a little clean up, just gathering up stray dishes and plumping up the cushions a bit, but then he had sunk into a deep pit of shame at the state of his living quarters (imagining Jungkook greeting him with: “Bitch, you live like this?”) and had gone into cleaning over drive. Suddenly all the surfaces are gleaming, months of neglected dust has been swept away, the sofa cushions have all been turned over to hide stains, turned over again because of the worse stains on the other side and finally covered with a nice blanket, and he’s emptied the drainer of its mountainous stack of items ‘left to air-dry’. He’s even lit a scented candle, one of his expensive, only for special occasions ones no less. Yoongi has changed his outfit three times and then returned to what he was wearing earlier that day because this isn’t technically a date and thus there’s no reason to dress up. He knows he’s overthinking things, but at least he doesn’t have to stress about the state of his makeup for once. He glances at the time on his phone. It’s almost five, and Jungkook is rarely late. He just about has time to lay out textbooks and some paper to make it look like he’s been working instead of stress cleaning, before the intercom buzzes. In his haste to get to the door he trips over his own feet and almost falls flat on his face. “Come on up!” Yoongi says cheerfully as he buzzes him in and then waits in the hallway, tapping his now bruised foot impatiently. He is so eager to let Jungkook in that he practically opens the door before he even knocks. “Hi” Jungkook says breathlessly, sounding like he’s just run up the three flights of stairs to the flat. “Hi” He smiles at him dreamily. “Uh come in! Would you like some tea?” “Tea would be good” He returns the smile shyly, leaving his shoes neatly at the door. “Whatever you’re making for yourself. I can help?” “No, that’s cool – I’m pretty used to making tea” He laughs. “Is Camomile ok?” “Yeah” Jungkook sits down on the sofa, running his fingers over the blanket. He made a good decision with that one; it’s a lovely blanket. “I’ll just get out my stuff” Yoongi leaves to make the tea, leaning against the kitchen worktop and tapping his nails on the counter as he waits for the kettle to boil and tries to take deep, calming breaths. There’s no need to be so nervous – this is just a study session after all. Right? He takes his time pouring the water and letting the tea brew, stirring it carefully with a teaspoon til it’s strong enough. He has certainly got very good at making tea over the past few months. Then he carries the mugs in. “Alright” He sits down beside Jungkook, setting his mug down on the coffee table to cool a little. “So what exactly is that you want me to help you with?” Jungkook runs him through the topics he’s struggling with, showing him essays and problem sheets that he’s done badly on. At first Yoongi is hesitant – both through shyness and because he’s worried about coming across as condescending – but then he settles into the rhythm of things, explaining theories and running through the blank copy of the exam to help him understand where he went wrong. He might not have Namjoon’s level of eloquence on all matters, but when it comes to music he’s confident he knows what he’s talking about. He may find music theory boring compared to the rest of his course, but he’s good at it, and he’s happy to discuss it – especially with Jungkook. Indeed, he gets so caught up in a particular section of chord progressions that he’s got on his laptop that he doesn’t notice when Jungkook stops paying attention and starts watching him instead. That is, Yoongi doesn’t notice until he turns to check that Jungkook understands and finds his face mere inches away from his own. He trails off, abandoning the sentence halfway through, already forgetting what it was that he was talking about. Jungkook’s gaze is hooded and he’s staring at Yoongi’s mouth and he can see his pupils start to dilate and every movement he makes seems to be slowed down a hundred times, so that he’s watching in slow motion as his lips part slightly and he starts to lean in and his eyelids flutter closed. And then suddenly they’re kissing. It only lasts a couple of seconds before Jungkook is pulling back, scrambling to the far end of the sofa with a horrified look on his face and apologies already prepared, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to – I don’t know why I… sorry, I shouldn’t have. It’s ok if you – look I’ll just go. I’m really sorry. Can we just forget about this?” “No!” Yoongi says, reaching out to grab his wrist. “No wait.” “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed –” He continues to panic but at least he doesn’t go any further, trapped in place by his strong grip. “Jungkook stop. I liked it” He tells him. “You don’t have to apologise. I liked it” “You…what?” His eyes are wide in shock and disbelief, cheeks tinged red with a blush and pulse racing under Yoongi’s fingertips. “I liked it” Yoongi repeats, slowly, carefully, because he can’t quite believe he’s saying it, can’t quite believe what’s happening. “I like you!” And he pulls Jungkook back down onto the sofa, pulls him closer until he can surge forward and kiss him again – to prove that he means it, to prove that he wants it – and this time he doesn’t settle for a quick peck on the lips. This time he cups Jungkook’s face in his hands, fingers slipping into his hair, this time he pulls him down on top of him so that he’s pressed against the armrest and the younger’s strong arms are braced either side of him. It takes Jungkook a few moments to react, but when he does he kisses Yoongi like he means it, shifting all his weight to one hand so that he can cup the back of his head with the other, press their bodies even closer together. Still, he’s a little shy, like he’s not sure it’s real, like he’s afraid the spell will break if he pushes too far. Yoongi is all too happy to take the lead, scraping his teeth on Jungkook’s bottom lip to hear his startled gasps and opening his mouth slightly to invite his tongue inside. When they finally break apart, Jungkook is panting slightly and his hair is sticking up in all directions. He looks like all his Sundays have come at once. “I have had a crush on you for so long” He blurts out and Yoongi can practically feel his cheeks heating up under his fingers where he still holds his face tenderly. And he just can’t help himself; he just bursts into laughter. “What?” Jungkook asks, alarmed. “Is – is that bad? Should I not have said that?” “No, that’s not bad” Yoongi giggles and breaks into a gummy smile. “It’s just – me too! I mean, I’ve had a crush on you for forever and I can’t believe you’ve felt the same way all this time. I just…” “Oh” He sits back on his ankles. “Wow” He wriggles back until he’s sitting up and reaches out to take Jungkook’s hand, not wanting the glorious skin contact to end. He’s smiling so wide his face is beginning to ache, but it feels amazing. This is what he’s been dreaming about for months, desperately hoping for in the middle of the night, thinking about whenever he sees Jungkook, and what he felt sure he would never get. Yoongi mentally holds up a middle finger to his anxiety for making him wait so long. “You really… you really like me?” Jungkook asks nervously, looking up from under his eyelashes and pulling at a loose thread in the blanket with his free hand. “Yeah, of course” He reassures him. He knows it’s not socially acceptable to skip straight to I love you’s after the first kiss – also he doesn’t want to give Jungkook a heart attack – but if he could he would tell him a hundred times. “You think I come to watch you play because I like sport?” Jungkook laughs despite himself, the glorious sound sending Yoongi’s heart somersaulting. “Taehyungie told me the same thing, said you were uh… that you liked me– but I… I didn’t want to believe in case I was wrong, you know?” “Yeah I know” Yoongi murmurs. “And you’re older than me and you’re really good at music and – and you’re so cool and pretty, really, really pretty” The last part comes out in an embarrassed rush, and yet again he is too shy to make eye contact, staring at their linked hands instead. “I figured you were out of my league” “You think I’m cool?” Yoongi snorts, so overwhelmed by the praise that he forgets to have a filter, and instead of telling Jungkook how outrageously beautiful he is, blurts out: “I’m a complete disaster gay! I could barely string a sentence together around you for months!” Thankfully Jungkook doesn’t seem put off and just smiles happily at him, “At least you didn’t run away like I did. I’m sorry about that.” “Hey, happens to the best of us” He laughs shakily, oddly touched by his acceptance of his weird ways. “Why did you come? In the first place that is” “I uh” He flushes a bright shade of red. “I found it online?” Yoongi decides to be kind and not press it. After all, he’s been there. “Can I be… I mean would you like…” Jungkook cuts off, ducking his head in embarrassment. “Like to…?” He prompts him, tugging at his hand to pull him closer. “Date me?” He finishes with a squeak and Yoongi is pretty certain his ribcage is no longer capable of containing his heart. “Yes” He says immediately. “Fucking – yes, I would love to date you!” “Oh!” Jungkook looks relieved, which is dumb given how much Yoongi has shown he adores him – clearly he’s not trying hard enough. “Come here” He orders, and instead takes the initiative and climbs onto Jungkook’s laps, giggling at his panicked expression. He holds his face in both hands and gently kisses him on the lips before moving on to his glorious cheekbones and then peppering kisses along the line of his jaw. Jungkook wriggles and whimpers under his ministrations, hands fisting in the blanket in his effort to stay still. He’s so cute he could eat him. “You can touch me, dummy,” He whispers against the shell of his ear and laughs as the younger’s hands fly to hold his waist, warm fingers spreading out against his skin. He starts to kiss down his neck and then, without giving him any warning, lathes his tongue over his pulse point. “Can I leave marks?” Jungkook gasps and his hands squeeze around his waist – Yoongi kind of hopes he might leave marks – he doesn’t give a verbal answer, but he obediently tips his head to the side so that he can get better access. Yoongi takes this as consent. He places a few more open-mouthed kisses before closing his lips around a patch of skin and biting down, sucking hard. As he pulls away he can already see a bruise starting to form, and he doesn’t hesitate in making more. “Kiss me?” Jungkook asks breathlessly and he readily complies, parting his lips against to invite the younger’s tongue inside. They kiss lazily for several minutes before finally pulling apart for good. Jungkook is flushed a deep red, his lips are shiny and swollen, and his neck is littered with dark marks. Just looking at them fills Yoongi with a strange sense of pride and satisfaction. “You wanna watch something?” He asks him “Huh?” “I somewhat suspect we are not going to be doing any more work today” He smirks at him, relishing in his splutters of embarrassment. “So do you wanna watch something?” “Yeah” Jungkook nods. “Um, whatever you want is fine!” God he is just the cutest. “Have you seen the latest episode of Personal Preference?” “Oh, no, I haven’t had time” He shakes his head. “Perfect, let’s watch it then” Yoongi reluctantly leaves the comfort of Jungkook’s lap to set up his laptop on the coffee table, carefully moving all the textbooks to one side to make room. He also fetches another blanket for them to snuggle under – now that he’s got him, he’s not going to waste a single opportunity to cuddle. The second they’re settled and the show starts playing, he rests his head on Jungkook’s shoulder, leaning against his side and reaching for his hand under the blanket. He stiffens up suddenly and, for a moment, Yoongi begins to doubt himself, but then he links their fingers together and pulls him closer, relaxing into the cuddle. It’s absolute bliss. “Hey uh...” Jungkook says suddenly, halfway through the episode. “Does this count as a date?” “No” Yoongi answers decisively “No?” “No because I’m going to take you out on a proper date” He explains. “We’ll go to a fancy restaurant where there are candles on the tables and a separate wine menu and everything. I’m going to spoil you!” “Oh.” He murmurs. “Ok. That… that sounds good” Yoongi can’t help himself; he goes in for another kiss.