Chapter Text
min yoongi and jung hoseok; president and vice president (respectively) of the student body, captains of the basketball and dance teams, resident social butterflies, homecoming kings two years in a row, disgustingly in love long-term boyfriends, and head over heels for the new junior class representative.
“who is that,” hoseok hissed, “he’s. so. cute.” it was the first student council meeting since the last term of student council elections that had ran through the last weeks of school and the end of their previous year. the early fall in which the kickstart to the meetings occurred was always a hectic time; new faces to memorize, new names to learn, new procedures to follow, and as always; new events to schedule and plan.
and this year, apparently, new representatives to ogle.
yoongi followed hoseok’s gaze and had to suck in a breath at the sight of a tall, broad, honey blond boy who had the body of a jock but the mannerisms of an introverted freshman; his wide shoulders sat hunched inwards, shielding his torso from view, and he fiddled with the sweater-paws of the oversized letterman jacket; hands in his lap and bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes cast nervous, furtive glances around the room.
“like a lost little bunny. look at his doe eyes. precious.” yoongi mimed wiping away a stray tear.
“junior class elect?” hoseok inquired, tone low while he shamelessly stared down the poor boy. (he seemed to notice, nervously fidgeting in his seat even more than he already was. yoongi had to stop himself from cooing out loud.)
the elder shook his head sharply. “no. his baby-face screams ‘sophomore.’”
“aw, come on, yoongi. maybe he’s just a late bloomer!”
yoongi shrugged. “whatever – we're about to find out anyways.”
the mindless chatter that always took root within their spacious round tabled room in student services before meetings came to order was a little subdued, what with the fresh, baby-faced underclassmen elects clinging to the drywall and staring down at their shuffling feet. the club’s long-time secretary, junior year kim namjoon, took it upon himself to bang his tiny toy gavel against the wooden expanse of their large round table to gather everyone’s attention. (hoseok had originally been honored with the duty of calling meetings to order, but often got too excited and ended up banging the tool too hard and severely ruptured the table – their treasurers, park yeeun and kim yubin, had not been very pleased.)
their elect (yes, he was theirs now) sat straight up, startled by the sudden sharp rapping on the tabletop, and from yoongi’s side, he could feel hoseok mooning from all the way across the table. when he turned his head to look, his boyfriend’s beautiful side profile was broadcasting heart eyes like he was yelling it into a megaphone while being aided with a microphone.
(internally, yoongi shed a few tears; he was whipped for this boy and his blatant theatrics.)
“order,” namjoon called, “order. order. y’all. can you please sit down somewhere?”
yoongi took pity on their secretary, and aided his half-hearted efforts. “we will begin in a moment. everyone, please find a chair; freshmen, don’t worry, just take a seat, the upperclassmen don’t bite. well, except for yubin.”
at this, yubin gave a shark-like grin to the rest of the room. yeeun whacked her upside the head and pointed to their notes, signaling that it was time to focus.
yoongi waited patiently for everyone to settle down. when that took too long, he stared down each and every underclassmen until their stupid chatter about past summer activities died down ashamedly, and the room was left in relative silence. he grinned smugly to hoseok, who seemed just a little bit too in love with yoongi's intimidation tactics; it made his chest puff up in pride as he motions to start the meeting. “at two thirty-eight p.m., i, min yoongi, student body president of the class of 2017, hereby call this student council session to order. joon-ah, you’ve got the minutes?”
“yeah.”
"great. now- “
“if i may, mister student council president – sorry to interrupt, by the way,” hoseok shot his boyfriend a cheeky smile as he stood up and gestured widely around the room, “but we have so many new faces here joining us this year! i, for one, think that introductions are in order.” after speaking, he sent a (what he believed to be inconspicuous) wink across the table and towards their shy little elect, who wrinkled his eyebrows and flushed. (it was not that inconspicuous.)
namjoon frowned loudly from his seat next to yoongi. “do we even have time for all tha– “
“an excellent proposal, president jung,” yoongi deadpanned, “if someone would be so kind to make a motion for introductions…?”
an uncomfortably awkward silence descended upon the room as the president and vice president stood, arms outstretched, eyebrows raised. yoongi’s gaze slid over to namjoon’s and he glowered until his secretary gave an exasperated sigh. (having a severe resting bitch face was pleasantly useful.)
“i move to hold introductions,” namjoon groaned, slumping back into the plastic of his fold-out chair, “is there a second?”
“um,” an unfamiliar voice stuttered,” i-i second the motion.”
both presidents whipped their heads up at the sweet sounding timbre, and were tickled to be met with the sight of their elect, biting his bottom lip out of nerves; full cheeks flushing red at the sudden spike of attention directed his way. the sleeves of his letterman jacket are picked at even more and he looks like he instantly regretted speaking out; hoseok is quick to shoot him a reassuring smile, before turning to his boyfriend with a silent expression filled with pain. he’s so fucking cute. i’m going to die.
yoongi nodded sagely. i know. take me with you.
from two seats down, namjoon threw them a caustic look as he spoke out. “ohh-kay,” he drawled, “let’s go in a circle, starting with our executives.”
“min yoongi,” yoongi spat out, the title he's had to recite like clockwork since the beginning of sophomore year now little more than muscle memory on his tongue, “student body president and class of 2017.”
hoseok just as easily followed. “jung hoseok, student body vice president and class of 2018. lover of all things dogs, dance, and/or dramas. i enjoy long walks on th- “
“kim namjoon,” interrupted namjoon as he reclined back into his chair with a tired sigh, “secretary and class of 2018.”
yeeun shuffled her papers and sniffed disinterestedly, “park yeeun. treasurer. class of 2018.”
“kim yubin, the better treasurer, class of 2017."
“oh you can fuck off—“
“moving right along,” namjoon insisted, “who’s next? jimin?”
on yubin’s right sat park jimin, junior and head of the charity and volunteer committee. he’d done amazing things for both the school and its reputation, let alone his infamous “get shit done” mantra that had helped tremendously to whip the student council back into shape when yoongi and hoseok were just beginning to climb the ranks and enact that exact type of change themselves--which was probably why they were such a fan favorite amongst the student body. jimin was a treasured ally and close friend of theirs (what with being hoseok’s co-captain for the school’s dance team), and yoongi shot him a soft smile as he introduced himself and his committee, all of them baby-faced freshman – yoongi tried to stifle his giggles.
after the last of the charity board had been introduced (a soft-faced girl named siyeon), it was with bated breath that he and hoseok sat up in their seats as their elect prepared to speak.
“j-jeon jungkook,” he stuttered, voice like milk and honey, “junior class representative. um, class of 2018.”
(he felt hoseok crack a smile. i was right – he’s a junior!
whatever. pay attention or i’ll fire you, yoongi rolled his eyes.
a quiet laugh. that’s not how student council works, yoongi.)
for the rest of introductions, the pair whispered amongst themselves about their doe eyed junior – jungkook – and doodled soft cheeks and bunny teeth in the corner of their note sheets, shirking their executive responsibilities in favor of ogling jungkook and giggling like grade schoolers. by the time the entire table had been introduced, hoseok had sketched three different expressions of jungkook’s, all shaded with emphasis on his slight (but adorable, nonetheless) overbite and pouty lips.
they were having so much fun, in fact, that it took namjoon calling their names twice in order for them to be brought back down to earth.
“-esidents. presidents.” their secretary sent a pointed glance their way.
sheepishly, yoongi and hoseok bowed their heads in apology. namjoon gave them a calculating stare before continuing with the agenda that reflected off of his glasses from the screen of his laptop. “anyways,” he continued, “the main course: homecoming. we should start brainstorming ideas for themes and catering so i can get it to administration by the end of this week.”
“something cost-friendly, too,” yubin chimed in, “last year kinda did a number on our savings.”
“…okay, buuut,” ahn heeyeon, senior class representative, drawled, “it’s gotta still be. i dunno. fun? exciting? last year wasn’t really that…stellar, and this year’s senior class is thinking of ditching.”
last year's homecoming was underwhelming, to say the least. administration had shuffled all the attendees into the secondary gymnasium--markedly smaller in comparison to the main facility--and had a middle-aged white man take control of the dee jay station (all he put on was an electronica playlist. the catering was chips and candy. chaperones jumped in halfway through to try and rope everybody into the electric slide. it was a shitshow.)
hoseok's lips drooped at the corners, student body vice-president mode back in action,“what? no. no. senior attendance is key for turnout numbers.” heeyeon shrugged with her hands up, in a what can you do? kind of motion.
“alright,” the harsh snap of cracking knuckles reverberated around the boardroom as yoongi leant back into his rolling chair. “what do they propose to enhance the homecoming experience.”
again, heeyeon lifted her shoulders--a real helpful one, she was. “good music? entertainment? better catering?”
“what about…an interesting, um. theme?”
sixteen pairs of eyes whipped towards the owner of the voice that’d given such a bold suggestion.
yoongi felt hoseok stiffen beside him, no doubt having perked up at jungkook's voice. his boyfriend's restless fidgeting at a simple sentence made his lips quirk up; it reminded him of way back when they were first making their way up the student council ranks and had yet to make a move--though yoongi always had an inkling suspicious that his friend didn't really want to be friends at all.
he's whipped, yoongi thought fondly.
“and what would that be,” park hyejin, chairman of the entertainment department, questioned, “remember. cost-effective, and it’s gotta include all of our boards.”
jungkook shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he gnawed what looked like painfully on his bottom lip, clearly rubbed the wrong way with so much attention and pressure being forced down on his broad (yet quaking) shoulders. hoseok opened his mouth to defend jungkook’s initial statement, but yoongi swiftly covered his boyfriend’s hand with his own and gave a light squeeze. let him speak for himself.
though haltingly and quietly, jungkook began to elaborate. “um, something centered around a familiar concept – one that everyone’s seen before, or at least has heard of.”
“something artsy?” jieqiong, a member of the charity and volunteer committee, suggests.
jungkook’s face lit up. “exactly! maybe...maybe starry night? the art department's curriculum this semester is all centered around outer space, we could tie in with that and maybe gather some students as volunteers for set-up?” all of a sudden, jungkook was drawn out of his protective shell that he'd worn so adamantly not a moment ago. it wasn't hard to see what a passion he had for art, if the way he blossomed so beautifully while immersed in any stimuli that had to do with it was anything to go by. the thinning of his lips as they stretched across his overbite; the glassy sheen to his eyes that rounded like a doe's; his beauty mark popping starkly against his honeyed skin...it was--
“perfect,” yoongi rumbled firmly from the head of the table, drawing all eyes to him, “a broad topic with plenty of room for all of our committees to participate; the potential for decent decorations; and even a pre-existing color scheme. i like the way you think, jeon,” he gave a crooked grin and winked a cat eye. jungkook looked like he was going to faint.
but, as usual, Resident Realist Kim Namjoon was prompt to add his two cents. “alright, but we’re going to need a sketch of the completely decorated gym by at least wednesday. also, what kind of charity or organization will be included in this?”
“make a wish!” seokjin, a member of the school spirit committee, slammed his fists down on the table as he rose from his seat in excitement, “get it? wishing on a star? starry night?”
hoseok cracked up. the rest of the room gave a collective groan.
“alright, that sounds fine. i’ll put it down, but make sure y’all get in touch with them before thursday.” namjoon's deft fingers began clicking away at the keys of his laptop, an easy set to his shoulders as he prepared the e-mails that were to be sent to administration.
“will do,” said jimin, “but as for the sketch of the gym…”
yoongi nodded. “ah, that’ll be essential for the homeroom representatives to have, so they’ll know which materials to tell their classes to donate and how to set things up within the premise–”
“i-i can handle that…”
all eyes swung back (again) towards the butt of their round table, where jungkook meekly rose his hand, still blanketed in the threadbare letterman sleeves. “i’m an art student, shouldn’t be too hard.”
(yoongi raised his brows. hot, smart, and talented?
hoseok shook his head. where has he been all our lives?)
“great,” chirped yubin as she scribbled down her notes, “but nothing too extravagant – we aren’t rich here.”
yeeun slapped her side. “but we still want it to look nice, don’t we?”
a click of irritation came from the other treasurer's jaw. “of course we do. all i’m saying is that– “
“anyways,” namjoon interrupted, “jungkook, if you could stay after with me once the meeting adjourns so i can get your contact information? that way, you can email the sketch to me and I’ll provide feedback.”
how can one’s cheeks get so red from the tiniest things, yoongi caught himself wondering as jungkook mumbled out an affirmative. apparently, hoseok's train of thought shared the same track as he; the audible sigh that he let out had yoongi not even bothering to hide his snort, and the rest of the room shook their heads in resigned confusion, most of the upperclassmen already too familiar with the president’s odd, non-verbal communications. yoongi and hoseok had been together for so long, through thick and thin, through all ups and downs imaginable...sometimes, physical words were rendered useless in the face of their soul-binding connection.
after the homecoming discussion was wrapped up with the debate of entertainment (the committee for it having decided on a dance number and pep rally for individual grade levels), the rest of the meeting glided by uneventfully with routine status reports from the various chairmen present. at three-thirty, yoongi was more than ready to adjourn.
“order!” shouted the president as he attempted to wrangle everyone in after a tangent courtesy of seokjin and hoseok. “alright. someone motion to adjourn so we can get the fuck out of here – i have apush homework to procrastinate on.”
at this, there were a couple “same” ‘s thrown out from the underclassmen crowd. yoongi was about to groan at freshmen's annoying need to share their two cents on everything but jungkook giggled and, instead, he felt his heart double in size – beside him, his boyfriend cooed (they’d been together for so long that hoseok couldn’t so much as sigh without yoongi knowing.)
“i motion to adjourn,” droned namjoon tiredly.
“seconded,” said jimin.
“all in favor say ‘I.’” yoongi yawned and stretched his spine as he recited the procedure.
the usual chorus flooded through the room, new elects looking tickled pink at the formality of the closing routine. “all in favor say ‘nay.’”
yubin opened her mouth with a shit-eating grin on her face – it was wiped right off when yeeun whacked her upside the head. (“you aren’t as funny as you think you are,” she hissed.)
after a resounding silence, namjoon bangs the gavel. yoongi speaks. “at three-thirty-two, I hereby adjourn this student council session. all y’all, get the fuck out.”
the freshmen cloud loiters about, chatting animatedly with each other as irritated upperclassmen try to make their way out of the room. in the corner, yoongi catches jungkook squeezing through the crowd as he attempts to get to namjoon.
(he feels hoseok lay a hand on his thigh. wait, hyung. let him talk to joon-ah.)
yoongi shakes it off. fuck that.)
and so, min yoongi, captain of the basketball team, homecoming king two years in a row, second hottest piece of ass in the room (he'd have to give first prize to a certain someone), and the Student Body Goddamn President, struts over to where the other two are conversing and made sure to cock his hips in that way hoseok says is sexy and fix his bangs as he strode across the floor. “hell-oh,” he practically purrs, “i don’t believe we’ve formally met? i’m min yoongi, student body president.”
from his position, across from jungkook, namjoon snorted. “i think everyone knows that, hyung. you’re kind of a big deal.”
“correction: he’s The Big Deal.” hoseok’s elegant fingers come down on his shoulders and yoongi allows himself a small smile, pleased with how his boyfriend followed him over, “anyways. we’re exchanging numbers?”
namjoon raises an eyebrow, visibly unimpressed. “you’re talking about a lot of this ‘we’ business – i didn’t know you enrolled in french this year.”
“yes, we’re exchanging numbers, m-mister presidents,” jungkook gazed up at the pair (who were shamelessly interlocked by various limbs) and made no effort to conceal the star struck glint in his eyes.
“oh my god,” yoongi busts out laughing. he's used to a little more respect being shown to him than the average student, he's used to the intimidating waves that radiate off of him that disperse crowds of underclassmen like he'd said the word 'midterms'; but yoongi's never been addressed so obviously formally. so endearingly. “you don’t – you don’t need to call us that, jungkook. to you, i’m yoongi-hyung.”
"and i'm hoseokie-hyung!” hoseok chimed in with a bright grin and he chose to selectively ignore the way that namjoon’s eyes rolled back into his skull.
as the three boys enthusiastically traded phones to input contacts, yoongi caught namjoon’s warning, watchful eye and held his gaze with a matched (yet alarmed) intensity. with the way that namjoon bore his eyes into yoongi it was almost like he was trying to shoot lazers through his soul, and the subsequent burn that caught aflame in his chest had his feet acting of their own accord and taking an involuntary step backwards.
(yoongi furrowed his brows in confusion. what the hell?)
“uhm…hyungs…” jungkook spoke up quietly after all of the numbers had been successfully swapped, “i just wanted…to thank you. for, for being so welcoming.” the junior’s milk and honey timbre wafted into the hearts of all three of the older boys, and even namjoon and yoongi paused to smile softly at jungkook.
hoseok responded first. “you’re always welcome here, jungkook. student council is more than just a council – we’re a family.”
jungkook’s bright, bright smile was enough to kickstart another giggling fit from hoseok with a shrieked, jungkookie you’re so cute! and a flustered ahhh, hyung…
(but it wasn’t enough to keep namjoon from glowering again.
be careful with him.)