Chapter Text
By some seemingly miraculous series of events, at some point in the transition between middle school and high school, Namjoon's hard-earned reputation as the teacher's pet went completely down the drain and made way for a new reputation. This was a reputation he'd earned from rumour alone and it was so wildly different to his previous one that you'll hardly believe me when I tell you what it was.
According to the rumours which circulated around the school, the goody-two-shoes teacher's pet Kim Namjoon from middle school had gone wild when he hit high school and slipped into an uncontrollable rebellious phase. Drugs, graffiti, fist fights, you name it, Namjoon had probably done it. Crazy, right? He had gone from the quiet kid who would never hurt a fly to the asshole in that one class who was out to get everyone and was probably, like, Umbridge's cousin or something equally evil.
That's what the rumours say, anyway.
The truth was that Namjoon had entered high school and the exposure to so many new people and items made his clumsiness escalate to the point where he was landing himself in detention for complete accidents. He was making mistakes which were misinterpreted by witnesses to be deliberate attempts to ruin everybody's day and, before long, the teachers were punishing his clumsiness with hour long detentions without even taking the time to figure out what actually happened. It was, at this point, seen as a genuinely logical assumption that anything bad that happened was Namjoon's fault.
The first time it happened, he was walking to his desk in maths class a few weeks into the first term of school. Of course, he'd managed to trip over his own feet and had gone flying straight into the new girl, accidentally knocking her over. The teacher gave him a detention since it apparently looked very much like he pushed her over on purpose. Witnesses even later claimed that he'd laughed afterwards, which he definitely did not, he'd actually stuttered an apology and bowed because he really was sorry for pushing her. But no one believed that. He sat the detention with the maths teacher after school.
On another occasion, he jostled a can of paint with his foot whilst walking through the theatre and accidentally spilt it on the drama club's group project against animal cruelty. Afterwards, rumours spreading around the school claimed that Namjoon hated all animals and sabotaged their project on purpose. He didn't do that, it was an accident and he apologised afterwards. No one heard. He really did love animals and thought the project was very well made, but he was clumsy and tall and his long legs were hard to control. He sat a detention for an hour after school, then when he offered to help the drama club make a new project, they rejected his offer coldly.
At a different time, the shy kid in Namjoon's Physics class dropped his glasses and Namjoon had picked them up, intending to return them, but instead he ended up accidentally breaking them in his inconveniently large hands. The rumours claimed he'd broken them on purpose simply because the new kid was gay, which certainly wasn't true, not only because he was just trying to be useful, but also because Namjoon himself was a very open-minded human who also happened to be bisexual and he had no reason to make homophobic statements by breaking anyone's possessions. He'd sat another detention with a teacher who glared at him like he was a monster. He wasn't, he was just very, very unlucky.
These are only a few examples of the kind of mistakes Namjoon was making. He always had good intentions, he set out from his house in the mornings feeling positive and always tried to keep himself out of trouble. He was just so very unlucky.
And the worst thing was that his pure clumsiness and his bad luck had lost him his friends, who bailed on him when they thought he'd turned into a giant asshole, along with the rest of the damn school. Their reputations would only be dragged down the drain with his if they hung around him, so part of him understood their reasons for leaving him. However, he was human, and the other part of him hated that they left him to sit and each lunch alone.
Honestly, at this point Namjoon had already grown used to his reputation. He'd accepted that trying to help people or trying to keep out of the way would only result in him getting detentions, so he wasn't even surprised anymore when he received yet another detention for "harassing another pupil". This time, he'd been handing a girl a stack of text books when his hands slipped and the books fell on her foot. She'd cried and Namjoon had felt horrible about it, picking the books up again and then apologising to her with a deep bow. Witnesses thought - you guessed it - that he did it on purpose, spitefully trying to get back at her for getting the best score in the geography test when he got the second best. The truth was, he really didn't give a shit about his grades, but he got the detention anyway and he didn't protest.
It had actually gotten to the point where these after school detentions had become a pretty regular occurrence for him; normally he could slot "detention" into his schedule before he even received one. This meant he knew very well how detentions worked. To the best of his knowledge, Namjoon knew that all he had to do was walk into the assigned classroom, hand whatever teacher was there his detention slip, then take a seat and sit quietly for an hour.
However, this time it was different.
Namjoon pushed the door open with the palm of one hand, detention slip already between the fingers of his other, ready to be handed over. When the door had swung open, though, Namjoon noticed that the only person in the room was a student sitting at the very front desk where the teacher normally sat. The student was a boy with dyed blond hair and a pair of thick-framed glasses perched on his nose, cheeks rosy from the warmth of the heated classroom. Namjoon recognised him as an older student, a senior prefect, actually. He didn't even look up when Namjoon entered, just continued to read the book in front of him.
"Um." Namjoon said. "Where's the teacher?"
The guy heaved a pained sigh as if he would literally rather be bleeding out in a ditch than sitting in that room right then. He looked up at Namjoon with a burning glare. "The teachers bailed. Clearly they have better things to do than their job. As a senior prefect, I'm running these detentions for now." he explained, flatly, giving Namjoon a look which plainly expressed the fact that he would take no further questions at this time. "Slip?" he demanded, holding out his hand.
Namjoon got the message and wordlessly handed him the detention slip before he went to take a seat.
You see, Namjoon had sat enough detentions by now that he usually didn't feel incredibly awkward being the only person in a classroom with a teacher. He could sit in silence and stare into space without feeling the itch to make conversation. For some reason, though, the fact that he was in the classroom alone with a prefect, someone only a year or two older than him, made the situation significantly more awkward.
"Um." Namjoon said again. "What are the teachers giving you in return for doing this?" he asked, trying to fill the silence, which he most definitely didn't have to do.
The guy, unsurprisingly, sighed again. When his eyes met Namjoon's, he looked very tired, his dark eyelids hanging heavily over his eyes like rain-filled clouds. "Extra credit in a subject of my choice."
"Oh. That's kind of worth it, actually." Namjoon admitted.
"Yeah. I'm failing English so hard that at this point I would clean the damn toilets for extra credit." the guy muttered, waving a hand dismissively in Namjoon's general direction. "As much as I don't mind being here, I'd prefer if you left me alone."
"Okay." Namjoon agreed. "Okay, sure, I can totally leave you alone." He nodded, trying to convince himself that he would be able to keep his mouth shut for more than a few moments without spontaneously combusting.
They sat in silence for almost ten minutes, the clock ticking away on the wall, counting down the seconds of what Namjoon knew would be the most awkward and painful hour of his life. His leg began to shake as it usually did when he was on edge, knee bouncing up and down like a yo-yo. In his head, he desperately tried to go through the biology homework he had to do tonight, giving himself something to do. Then, once he'd worn out that activity mentally, he resorted to recalling the definitions of random terms: osmosis, photosynthesis, cytokinesis, eukaryotic cells, prokaryotic cells...
Namjoon could handle this silence. Totally.
"Oh, for fuck's sake." the guy said aloud just as Namjoon was running out of biological definitions to recall. "You look like you're about to shed tears of frustration." the guy hissed, slamming his book shut. "I can't bare it. You can fill the fucking silence if you need to, fuck."
"What's your name?" Namjoon asked, the question flying past his lips before his brain could even process the words. It was basically a reflex to fill the silence at this point and Namjoon was concerned about his own well-being.
"Min Yoongi." Min Yoongi told him, face twisted in a way which suggested that releasing such personal information pained him.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Kim Namjoon."
The prefect's eyebrows shot upwards in surprise. "You're Kim Namjoon?" He asked in disbelief. "You're... Well, you're certainly not what I imagined." Min Yoongi commented flatly, regarding him with narrowed eyes across the classroom, clearly judging him extremely hard for his appearance.
"Really? Are you disappointed?" Namjoon asked, allowing some of his immense bitterness to seep into his tone. Sure, he didn't look like your typical asshole; he wore marvel pins and wire-framed glasses, for god's sake, but that's because he just wasn't an asshole. Yet, the entire school still believed he was one. He was reluctant to let himself pout about it but at this point he was extremely close to doing so anyway.
"A little." Yoongi admitted, a hint of a smirk making its way onto his face. "I was picturing you wearing a leather jacket, biker boots, fifteen cigarettes hanging out of your mouth. That kind of thing. Something more badass, you know? I definitely thought you'd have tattoos. Bad boys are my type, you see. I like a guy with a thing for trouble."
Namjoon laughed. "Then you'll like me even less when you hear that literally all of the trouble I've been getting into recently has been accidental. I am not a bad boy, Min Yoongi, nor am I a rebel or a delinquent. I am just ridiculously clumsy."
Yoongi blinked. "Clumsy?" he questioned, eyes wide, understandably sceptical. "All of your detentions were accidents? I don't believe it."
"Okay. I am clumsy and unlucky. Cursed, you might even say."
Eyebrows furrowing, Yoongi pulled out what must've been Namjoon's detention slip, looked down at what was written on it. "Explain how 'throwing books at another student and making her cry' was an accident, then." the older demanded, reading from the 'reason' section of his detention slip.
And, you see, to Namjoon, this was a piece of cake. He explained what had actually happened in simple terms, much like how I described it earlier in this chapter.
Namjoon had finished recounting the events within five minutes and Yoongi unfortunately still did not appear convinced, his face still twisted into an intense frown. He pushed his glasses up on his nose. "Sounds like an excuse if I ever heard one-"
"It's not, that actually happened-"
"-but even if it was true, why did you just let them give you a detention? Why didn't you defend yourself?" Yoongi asked him incredulously, as if he'd never heard anything more ridiculous in his life. Which he probably hadn't, to be fair. Namjoon could hardly believe it himself.
"I'm shy?" Namjoon answered, though with the tone of his voice it sounded more like a question.
"Shy?" The scoff which escaped Yoongi's lips was harsh and disbelieving. Namjoon felt the force of it in his very bones. "That's the biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard. You're sitting through hours of detention a week just because you're shy?"
"Well, yes. At first it was because I was shy. I didn't think it'd become a regular thing, how was I meant to know?" the younger boy defended himself with a frown. "I was thinking something along the lines of 'one detention won't be all that bad' but then one detention became two and then three. Then, by the time I realised I was in deep shit, I already had a reputation. No one would believe me if I claimed any of this shit was an accident now. I'm the project-ruining, book-throwing asshole named Kim Namjoon."
A moment of silence passed between them. The older boy appeared to be thinking hard, watching the other with a critical gaze. His lip was pulled between his teeth as he adjusted his glasses with his fingertips. The distance between them suddenly felt so large that Namjoon felt like he had to squint to catch sight of these things, even with his own glasses on. "That just doesn't make sense. How can you encounter situations in which you make such severe mistakes so frequently?" he mused, mostly to himself.
"I ask myself that every day." Namjoon told him, solemnly.
Several quiet moments slipped by in which the distance between them grew and Yoongi seemed to visibly recede into himself. "I don't buy it." the prefect decided, waving his hand dismissively in Namjoon's general direction where he was sat several desks away from him. The blond sniffed and quite dramatically turned his attention back to his book, opening it again with a flourish and bringing it up right under his nose. "I'm busy now, convince me next time you're in detention. Tomorrow, I suppose." he mumbled.
Namjoon snorted a little, pushing his own glasses up his nose as he muttered "I love the assumption that I'll get a detention tomorrow." though his comment went either unnoticed or ignored entirely by the prefect, who seemed utterly engrossed with his book in a way he hadn't been previously.
Namjoon sighed as he returned to the silence. The remaining forty or so minutes were painfully quiet with only the obnoxious ticking of the clock and the gentle scratching of turning pages to keep him company.
Yoongi didn't look up from his book when the detention ended, even when Namjoon muttered a quiet "Bye." under his breath as he left.
**
The next day, Namjoon was so utterly determined to disprove Yoongi's assumption about him getting another detention that day that he avoided literally everything which might have resulted in him getting an accidental detention. He skilfully avoided walking within a generous radius of all students' projects; he didn't do anyone any favours unless they asked him to; he didn't touch any food or drink which might be spilt on something of value.
After a very stressful day of dodging, avoiding and not eating, it was five minutes before the end of the school day and Namjoon was immensely proud of himself. He couldn't help but smile smugly as he walked out of his last lesson with no detention to attend. He could go home and watch his favourite television show when it actually aired. There wasn't any reason to rush; the only reason why he was practically skipping down the corridor was because of his pure happiness about his freedom.
This was a mistake.
In his cheerful skipping, Namjoon entirely forgot about the impractical length of his limbs and swung his arm back in one particularly enthusiastic motion without much consideration. His palm collided violently with what must've been someone's face. Upon feeling a nose make contact with the palm of his hand, Namjoon immediately stopped and spun around to face his accidental victim, a sincere apology already on his lips. "Oh God, I'm so sorry, I didn't-" he started, before he noticed the look of pure distain on the boy's face. His eyes were narrowed in anger and his eyebrows were furrowed as he clutched his nose, appearing to be offended that Namjoon had even touched him, let alone slapped him in the face. After getting a good look at him, within moments Namjoon recognised the boy to be Kim Taehyung, the school's most loved "bad boy". He was "bad" in a different way to Namjoon himself, for where Namjoon got in trouble by accident for hurting innocent people, Taehyung got in trouble on purpose for doing things to make people laugh. He was the graffiti artist of the town; he was the boy who argued with the teachers about whether or not that one thing they said was actually correct; he was the boy who'd do anything if he was dared to do it. Namjoon feared this kind of person, for Kim Taehyung was outgoing and not at all socially awkward. See also: the opposite of Namjoon.
And in that moment, he was glaring at Namjoon with an amount of aggression which Namjoon couldn't comprehend. "What the fuck-" he spat, clearly preparing to yell at Namjoon within an inch of his life, but before he could finish his harsh retaliation to Namjoon's "attack", a hand fell upon his shoulder and the dreaded face of the math's teacher whose name Namjoon didn't know appeared over his shoulder.
Just from the look on the teacher's face, Namjoon already knew exactly what was about to happen.
**
"I was wondering when you'd show up." Yoongi commented, not even glancing up from his book when Namjoon walked in, just holding out his hand expectantly in a rather superior manor. This grated on Namjoon's nerves but the younger boy just sighed, deciding he couldn't be bothered to argue, and handed the detention slip over without a word. He was so salty that he couldn't help but stomp over to the nearest desk and plonk down into its chair with a huff. It looked like the detention room was empty again, apparently only Namjoon was unfortunate enough to receive one today. This did nothing to improve his mood, only caused the scowl on his face to deepen. "What got your knickers in a twist?" The prefect asked with a frown, having at some point looked up and caught the fact that Namjoon was Pissed with a capital 'P'.
Namjoon only pointed accusingly towards the detention slip which lay on the desk where the prefect had carelessly chucked it down. He watched bitterly as Yoongi took it between his fingers and read the writing upon it with raised eyebrows. Once he'd finished, the blond put his book to one side slowly, his gaze flickering up to meet Namjoon's. He appeared to be vaguely amused, which made the already salty Namjoon even saltier.
"Five minutes ago?" Yoongi inquired, referring to the "time given" section of the slip. The tone of his voice was teasing, but his disbelief was apparent in the way his eyes were narrowed. "Five minutes ago you fucking slapped someone? And let me guess, it was an accident?"
"Do you think I'd slap Kim fucking Taehyung on purpose, dude?" Namjoon asked, rhetorically. "I might as well have, like, signed my own death warrant."
The prefect only laughed dryly. "You're not wrong. This shit is serious. Watch your back when you're walking home, you might just get murdered. Or, at the very least, beaten up."
Namjoon nodded gravely. "At this point I wouldn't even protest. My life keeps going wrong anyways." he complained dramatically, folding his arms like a child and glaring at the floor. He was fed up of this shit. When would the universe give poor Namjoon a break?
"Yeah, you won't be saying that when some asshole's boot is kicking your teeth in and you're wondering how your poor mama's going to pay your dentist bills."
Namjoon had to admit, this was true. He didn't comment, just kept his arms folded and even added a pout to the mixture. In any other situation, he might've laughed at Yoongi's words, but at the moment he was too salty for that.
"Please, do explain how this so-called slapping was an accident." Yoongi continued dryly when it became evident that the younger had no intention of answering his previous snarky comment.
And so, Kim Namjoon explained.
And then a moment of silence passed.
"So yeah." Namjoon finished when the silence had lingered for a beat too long.
"So." the prefect began slowly. "You're telling me that you were so happy you hadn't gotten a detention all day that you skipped out of class and just... somehow fucking slapped someone in the face? Kim Taehyung of all people?"
"Yes, sunbaenim. That's exactly what I'm telling you." Namjoon grumbled, adding the honorific somewhat sarcastically.
"Call me hyung." Yoongi muttered distantly, seeming lost in thought. "Honestly, it's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. However, I really can't imagine you doing that on purpose." he admitted after a moment. Namjoon very nearly cheered. "But, then again..." the older continued with a little smirk on his face. The younger deflated. "It's still ridiculous. If you wanted to, I'm sure you could control those stupidly long arms of yours." The blond boy glared at Namjoon's arms sceptically as if they'd personally offended him.
Namjoon was growing sick of being doubted all the time and he couldn't help but frown, his saltiness escalating impossibly further when Yoongi wouldn't believe him. "But hyung, it's not my fault I have long arms." he defended himself, waving his arms around in demonstration. "I try to control them, I really do. They're too inconvenient; they have a mind of their own. I promise I didn't slap Kim Taehyung on purpose!" he declared grandly.
Yoongi simply shrugged one of his shoulders dismissively, picking up the detention slip to wave it before Namjoon dramatically. "Well, you got a detention for slapping someone. That's what this slip says and that's what I shall have to believe."
"But-"
"Sorry. I don't make the rules."
Something in Yoongi's voice told Namjoon he wasn't being completely serious but the younger felt that he had no choice but to give in. Even if he'd continued arguing his point, there's no way Yoongi would've ended up believing him, or at least there's no way he'd admit to it. Yoongi was clearly having far too much fun teasing him with the whole situation and Namjoon really didn't know what to make of it.
And the thing was, even if Min Yoongi was a bit of an asshole and even if he confused Namjoon to no end, the younger was actually enjoying his company in detention. He'd never admit it but, in that moment, as he watched Yoongi open his book again with a satisfied smirk on his face, Namjoon thought that getting detentions everyday wouldn't be too bad if he had Min Yoongi there to talk to. Despite how frustrating he was, Namjoon... liked him. And as he sat there in the classroom for the rest of his detention, listening to the clock's ticking, mulling over the short conversation he'd had with Yoongi as if it held the answer to all his problems, he swore to himself that someday soon he'd get Yoongi to openly admit to believing that Namjoon wasn't a bad guy.