Chapter Text
Min Yoongi is screwed.
There he is, sitting on a bench in the middle of his university’s campus, knees pulled up to his chest and fingers wrapped around the paper cup of dishwater that’s “coffee” only in name. It has a weird, powdery feeling that lingers on his tongue and he hates it with a burning passion. In addition to that, the vending machine didn’t return his change so not only is he absolutely disgusted but he’s been robbed in broad daylight as well. Well, it's nighttime actually, but that’s not the point.
It’s Yoongi’s fourth cup and he’s slowly starting to believe he must be some kind of a coffee masochist.
The first one he drank around 7 pm, just as he was starting to work on the presentation that was due, technically, yesterday. The second one happened somewhere around adding the final touches to his 17 page long essay and the third right after his computer crashed, before he could click the save button, because of course it did. This is his life.
He managed to finish the poster project he’s been dealing with for the past week, this time without many problems. But, of course, that run of good luck couldn’t last for too long. After getting a text from Taehyung asking about tomorrow’s exam (that Yoongi completely forgot about, hidden amongst six other exams he’s had this week) and having a mild mental breakdown, he stood up from his desk, closed the door to his dorm and went outside. He’s convinced that staying even one second longer in that cluttered ersatz of a room would make him go insane.
So yeah. It’s 01:53 am on the clock now and Yoongi has absolutely no idea how exactly he got to this bench or for how long he’s been sitting here.
He looks into the murky brown depths of that god forsaken coffee, trying to collect his thoughts. He could just say fuck it and pull yet another all-nighter. But the problem is, he isn’t exactly sure if he can manage it. Staying awake seems kind of possible but reading and absorbing any kind of knowledge from his books...now that’s where it gets tricky. Because unfortunately, Yoongi has reached the stage where even the text on the back of a cereal box would be a challenge. His eyes feel itchy like he has, not a single grain, but a whole goddamn beach’s worth of sand in them, his fingers shake and his head hurts so much he’s sure he’s just going to fucking explode any minute now.
Somehow, Yoongi’s now looking at that one last leaf that still clings onto the branch of a tree nearby. He spaces out, completely mesmerized by that little fellow that keeps fluttering in the wind.
Yoongis_brain.exe has stopped responding and he isn’t sure if he should pick the “keep waiting” or “close now” button.
As the soft breeze of autumn night ruffles his hair, he curls a little bit tighter around himself. He didn’t change his shoes nor pants before leaving so he’s still wearing a hoodie, his fluffy slippers, kumamon socks and weirdly too-short pajama pants. But shit, who can judge him? Even if there was any other poor bastard wandering around, it’s not like Yoongi’s that strange, considering the place. Just another college student, broken down and defeated by midterms. Keep walking, nothing to see here.
“Excuse me,” Yoongi hears, or at least he thinks he hears. He’s not sure if he should trust his ears right now, he’s been hearing some distant, insistent ringing for the past forty minutes after all. “Are you alright?”
Yoongi looks away from the tree, blinking slowly at the guy standing in front of him. “When did you get here?” Yoongi wants to ask because he really didn't notice anyone getting closer to him. But the full question doesn’t come out of his mouth so he’s left only with the raspy,
“When…”
And actually, that too is an excellent question. Like, when was the last time Yoongi had a full night of healthy sleep? Or when was the last time he had the time to eat a proper dinner that didn’t include some leftovers he stole from Hoseok or gross fast-food he picked on his way home?
“What?” Yoongi tries again, squinting at the guy’s confused expression.
Another great question. What was he thinking picking this major, or more importantly, what the fuck was he doing deciding to go to college in the first place? Also what is this dude doing right in front of his bench, looking down on him with a weird look on his face and wearing some fancy ass coat when it’s not even that cold?
“What did you say?” Yoongi finally manages to form the question he wants.
“I asked if you’re alright. I uhh… I was walking nearby and I noticed that you haven’t been moving for a while now. So I decided to check on you, just in case--”
“I’m dead?” Yoongi snorts. Under his breath he adds, “I wish.”
The look of worry on the guy’s face deepens. Yoongi doesn’t look away from him, his sleep deprivation erasing any traces of shame about staring at a stranger like that. He looks younger than him, the line of his jaw only starting to look more mature. His big eyes and pink, soft lips add to his boyish look. He seems somewhat… pure and innocent standing like that with a long scarf around his neck and hands clenching in his pockets visibly.
“No worries. I’m perfectly fine,” Yoongi lies. “Are you a freshman?” he adds even though he knows the answer already. It’s not like anyone in upper years would care to look that good while wandering around the campus in the middle of the night. What the fuck.
“Oh. Um. Yes. Yes, I am a freshman,” the guy answers stiffly. Yoongi haven’t seen anyone acting this awkward about such a simple question before. What a funny little guy.
Yoongi shifts on the bench, resting his feet on the ground. He leans forward, pretty sure he’s making a perfect impression of an older and obviously more experienced student. “Let me tell you something then. The vending machine on the second floor is a fucking scam.” To add some dramatic effect to his words, Yoongi purposefully tips his cup and spills the rest of his coffee on the grass. “Avoid it.”
“Okay...” The guy starts to look even more confused but he nods politely. “I will.”
“Good. Now...” Yoongi pats the bench beside himself. It takes a moment before the guy gets the hint and sits down next to him, his legs closely together, hands neatly folded on his knees, “What are you studying?”
“I’m studying, uh… H-history…Yes, history!” His eyes light up, as if he suddenly found the solution to some crazy calculus problem, and not trying to remember basic information. “I’m a history major,” he confirms again, more firmly this time, like Yoongi didn’t get it already.
What the fuck is up with this guy. It’s Yoongi who’s barely conscious yet this dude is the true weirdo. Trying to ignore it, Yoongi continues,
“Cool. I know a guy that also majors in history. His name’s Seokjin. Tall, handsome, shoulders so wide you can’t see shit when you sit behind him. You know him?”
“Sorry but I don’t think so.”
“Huh, weird. I thought everybody there knows him,” the last syllables get stretched out by the sudden yawn that Yoongi doesn’t bother to hide. “He’s the most friendly person ever.”
The guy makes some vague hum at that and nods again and Yoongi watches how his dangling earrings... dangle. He looks nervous, as far as Yoongi can judge from his stiff shoulders and pursed lips. Or maybe he’s just shy. Yoongi doesn’t blame him. He doubts he himself would start a conversation with a stranger in more normal circumstances. But right now he just simply doesn’t care. Hell, even if this dude turned out to be a murderer, Yoongi still wouldn’t give a shit, probably.
This indifference and maybe also the mature look of the boy’s eyes, not quite fitting with his young features, make Yoongi let go. He’s too tired to hold everything back anymore so he takes a deep breath, opens his mouth and starts to talk.
***
Jungkook peeks at his watch. It’s been forty minutes now. This weird, small human has been talking non-stop all this time and Jungkook’s really about to panic. Why did he even decide to talk to this person in the first place? He could’ve just walked past him and stayed in his lane. But no. Instead, he’s casually acting like a regular student who knows what the other guy’s been mumbling about. What the hell is wrong with him?
Jungkook has met a lot of humans before but this has to be one of the most peculiar of them. One messy strand of green hair is sticking up on his head like an antenna, bouncing a bit every now and then. Jungkook has no idea why the guy is wearing a hoodie that’s at least three sizes too big for him yet his pants end barely after his knees. Doesn’t he know how clothing sizes work? Also, those socks? Actually, they’re kind of cute so Jungkook won’t judge him for that. He would wear them too.
“So as I was saying,” the guy says then narrows his eyes in confusion. “Wait. What was I talking about?”
Following his discourse is definitely not an easy task, since it’s mostly just one huge, convoluted pile of digressions. One, random word leads him to another topic, completely not related to the first one and so it goes, on and on until Jungkook has no idea where they even started. He’s amazed that he actually knows the answer.
“How you believe the education system is fundamentally flawed.”
“Ah! Yeah. So, as I was saying the problem isn’t just the bad approach to the form of exams. Nah, man, that’s just scratching the surface of the bigger issue…”
Jungkook tunes out. He really doesn’t know what he should do. He doesn’t want to interrupt because it’s clear that the guy is going off right now and Jungkook’s trying really hard to empathize. But the problem is, he really can’t relate to many of the problems. He doesn’t know any of the names that the guy is throwing back and forth. He doesn’t know about the entrance exam’s special formula or about the chemistry professor who never replies to e-mails. And he’s never been to the common room, he can’t tell if it smells like someone’s peed in there or not. But, just to satisfy the guy, he agrees that it does.
Jungkook’s not a history major. He’s not even studying here. And he’s for sure older than 19 years old.
“That’s why,” the guy rambles on, “I think university should consider investing into buying better quality coffee beans. Considering the popularity...”
Jungkook checks the time again. He doesn’t have that much time left.
“... it could turn out to be a very profitable and…”
Damn his social awkwardness, why can’t he just force himself to stand up and go? He can’t sit here forever. And if the guy won’t stop before the dawn...
“...which really, is just bullshit. I mean, y’know what I’m talking about, right? It just doesn't make any fucking sense.”
Jungkook visits the campus because it’s pretty and usually deserted during the nights. How could he have known that today of all days, he'd stumble upon some tiny, sleep deprived and very talkative human there?
He senses a question mark at the end of some really long sentence. He has no idea what the question was but he nods politely and smiles, hoping the guy won’t notice that he hasn’t been listening at all.
“Awesome,” Jungkook must have agreed to something important because the guy smiles brightly. He even reaches his hand to pat Jungkook’s thigh a few times. “I’m telling you, the math lectures are insane. But with my notes you should be fine. We could meet tomorrow so I can give them to you. Sounds fine?”
“Sure,” Jungkook says, still only half listening, until he realizes what he just agreed to.
Well, fuck.
***
Yoongi realizes they’ve reach mutual understanding. Sure, the guy isn’t very talkative and his input to their conversation was mostly just “hmm”’s and “oh”’s and on rare occasions something longer like “really? that’s awful” but Yoongi feels understood. Maybe he doesn’t know his name or anything at all about him but he knows the unmistakable connection between them is there. And honestly, it feels quite nice.
“You know, somehow I feel a lot better now,” Yoongi says with a smile. “Thanks.”
“Um, yes, sure. Anytime,” the guy smiles back. It’s only a line of his curled lips, without showing his teeth but it still feels genuine. It’s kind of pretty too. Pretty enough for Yoongi to keep staring at his face for a beat too long. How come he didn’t notice that the guy’s kinda cute before? It must be a serious case of sleep deprivation if he’s missing things like that.
“Yeah... Anyway, what time is it?”
“3:15.”
“Shit. I have an exam in like 5 hours. Guess I gotta go now.”
They walk towards the dorms building together and Yoongi head reels a bit, his legs feeling like a jelly and mind spinning like he’s spent way too much time on some roller coaster thing. He might have also stumbled on the guy a few times but the other is polite enough not to say anything about it. Yoongi sees how he even reaches his arm towards him a couple of times, as if he was ready to catch him. How nice of him.
To Yoongi’s surprise, the guy stops a few meters before the entrance door. “There’s still something I need to do, so…” he says.
“At this time? Seriously?”
“Yeah. Just… go ahead. I know my way.”
There it is, this smile of his. He’s really, really cute like that and Yoongi lowkey hates it. It’s way too late (early?) for that.
“Okay. Take care, bro.”
Bro? Where did that come from. What is he? Turning into a frat boy or something?
“You too.”
“Oh, and about those notes I mentioned. I need to search for them but we could meet, let’s say, tomorrow afternoon? Like around 4 pm?”
“That’s…” the guy shifts a bit uncomfortably, “great actually! Could we just… um… meet a little bit later though? Maybe around 8 pm? I’m not sure I’ll be awake before that.”
“Fucked up sleeping pattern, huh?” Yoongi smiles.
“What? Oh! Y-yeah! Totally. You know. Staying up all nights and all that uhh… all that shit. It’s the worst.”
“Tell me about it. And yeah, 8 is fine.”
“Great. Thank you.”
Yoongi starts to shuffle his feet towards the door when he realized that maybe he should add “see you tomorrow” or something else along those lines. He turns around but the guy is nowhere to be seen anymore.
Weird.
***
Jungkook bursts through the door and crosses the hall in a few steps. He finds Namjoon in the living room, sitting on a couch. The book that he must have been reading is tossed nearby, and so are his glasses. On his shoulder, nuzzled in his fluffy sweater, sits a small bat. It tilts its head and focuses its little, black eyes on Jungkook. It doesn’t look angry. Just disappointed.
“Why’s Jimin like that?” Jungkook asks, pointing at the bat.
“Because he was about to go and look for you,” Namjoon answers. “You know what time it is? We were starting to worry!”
Jungkook feels an unpleasant pang of guilt. He plops down on the couch next to them and reaches his hand to stroke the fur on Jimin’s back as an apology. “I’m sorry. It’s just that something unexpected happen.”
Namjoon narrows his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I think…” Jungkook starts, “I think some human befriended me tonight.”
Jimin makes a squeaky sound at that and his ears lift up curiously. Namjoon runs a hand through his hair before he snorts with a laughter. Two sharp fangs show as he smiles, contrasting with the cute dimples in his soft cheeks.
“What?”
Jungkook’s just a simple vampire trying to mind his own business. He didn’t ask for any of this.
“He called me a bro. Is that good?”