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“Hyung, wake up. We’re gonna be late!” Hoseok says just loud enough for Yoongi to wake up, tapping him once on the shoulder.
“Fuck Off!” he responds almost growling, annoyed at the younger for interrupting his precious sleep. He’s lying on the couch with legs crossed around the ankles, hands across his chest, and head supported by the armrest. He doesn’t move, doesn’t even open his eyes though he knows he needs to move soon if he doesn’t want to repeat the fucking subject next semester.
He can hear the shuffle of papers, urgent steps going back and forth, and a series of curses from his two groupmates. But he still doesn’t want to move. He feels dizzy and his head hurts from sleep deprivation. His neck and back aches because of his uncomfortable position on the couch.
“Hyung,” this time, it’s Namjoon, voice anxious.
Yoongi mentally curses his professor. He’s truly an evil for giving them just five days for a design project. And they have to present their design in front of their class today too. What the actual fuck? They’re not fucking robots! It’s not like they only have Refrigeration 4105 to worry about. Other subjects give exams and assignments too.
Crash!
His body suddenly jolts in surprise making him sit up, heartrate increasing just a little bit because of the sudden interruption. He rubs his eyes, forcing them open to look for the source of the crash. Unsurprisingly, there’s Namjoon, looking with raised eyebrows at the once pretty, glass mermaid figurine.
Yoongi just sighs. He attempts to fix his messy hair using his fingers. He looks at his watch, 7:37 am. That’s almost three hours of sleep, the longest he had in three days. He gets up and gathers his things, shoving his laptop, notebooks, and books unceremoniously in his backpack.
Their class is at 8:00, the ride to school from their shared apartment is about 15 minutes, add about four minutes to change clothes and freshen up, and if he gives a minute of allowance for some unforeseen circumstance to avoid being late, that’s three minutes lost that should’ve been added in his sleep, who cares about showers?
Fucking Namjoon, the God of Destruction.
They arrive at their classroom with four minutes to kill. He drops his bag- not even caring about his laptop- beside his seat and plops himself, fists supporting his heavy head.
Hoseok is pale, unnaturally pale. His usual sunny smile gone. He sits straight, hands on pumping knees, eyebrow knitted slightly, staring at the ceiling. He’s literally a ball of energy but the idiot is actually a scaredy-cat. Bless his soulmate who might learn everything about ice plants today.
Namjoon takes the seat by the window and looks outside, chin propped on his fist, dimples looking like a crater on his face.For sure he’s talking with Jin in his head. He’s got this dreamy look that almost made Yoongi whack his head if only he’s within his reach.
Yoongi snorts. Namjoon is lucky since he’s younger than his soulmate. He got to form telepathic connection with his soulmate when he turned 18. They already met each other last year too, so they can now talk freely and clearly telepathically. It sucks if your older than your soulmate, you don’t know when the other will enter your mind.
Just five months ago though, Yoongi was surprised by a small voice while eating with Namjoon and Hoseok. It isn’t that loud, just enough for Yoongi to make out what he was saying. It sounds soft, sweet, and a guy’s.
I wish someone will give me one piece merchs.
That’s definitely his soulmate’s thoughts alright. He’s scared. Knowing that someone out there has now an access to his thoughts makes him anxious. If there is any consolation, it’s knowing that the universe gave him what he wants. A dick guy.
Days after that, more and more random thoughts entered his mind against his will. Mostly, just some simple stuffs about a cute dog, a fluffy cat, a funny joke, a sweet smell, a beautiful flower. There were also times when his mind will be playing songs he doesn’t even like. Sometimes, it becomes silent for days.
For the past five months, Yoongi had been extra careful with his thoughts especially because you can’t control what you can send. It apparently gets stronger when your closer but he and his soulmate must be miles apart. Just like Hoseok, he still doesn’t have a clue on where and who his soulmate is.
Finally, their professor enters. Yoongi sits up straight immediately.
“Group1, start your presentation,” the professor instructs, proceeding to stand at the far end of the classroom.
That’s them.
The three of them stand up and walk to the front. Namjoon is their first reporter, he opens his laptop and connects it to the projector while Hoseok gives the printed copy of the design to their professor with bowed head. Yoongi just stands to the side, arms crossed, fighting the urge to lie down and sleep then and there.
“Good morning everyone,” Namjoon greets. He starts with a brief introduction of their group then starts talking about the task at hand. He discusses about ice cube specifications, brine temperature, freezing temperature, flow rate, etc, etc. Yoongi tunes him out. They might be groupmates, they designed the ice plant together but half of what Namjoon’s talking is still new to him. Their classmates are attentive, listening to the top student explain. Even their professor nods, occasionally reading the material Hoseok gave him.
It was all great until he suddenly hears his soulmate’s voice. This time, it’s different though, it sounds clearer as if he’s talking to him on the other room separated by a just a thin wall.
Yoongi tries to ignore it. From experience, the telepathic messages from his soulmate are short. Sometimes, it even disappears before he can finish a sentence. So he waits for it to stop.
Jungkook pushes Taehyung down on the bed, getting on top of him. He takes his time undoing the buttons of his shirt.
Wait. What?! Yoongi’s eyebrows shoot up, suddenly becoming more wide-awake.
He recognized the names. Taehyung and Jungkook. Aren’t they one of the most famous singers nowadays? His soulmate often sings their songs. So he ships them, Yoongi concludes. The little shit is a Taekook shipper and he even reads fanfics about the two.
He trails soft kisses on his body, nipping and biting softly, leaving pink marks.
What the fuck is his shitty soulmate doing? Yoongi clenches his jaw and takes a deep breath. He pulls himself taller, forcing himself to focus on what Namjoon is saying. It’ll end in a while anyway.
He lifts Taehyung’s legs, ripping his boxers off. Moving down, he-
Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut and screams in his head, trying to cover that annoying little voice. He bites his lower lip to stop himself from screaming out loud. But the voice persists, unbothered at the slightest, forcing an unwanted scene in Yoongi’s mind.
He wraps his lips around-
He takes a sharp breath, feeling the heat creeping up his neck. Why isn’t it stopping?
“The compressor used in this design is a flanged motor compressor, single stage…” Namjoon is saying but that annoying little voice snatch his attention away instead.
“How do you want it baby? Tell me. How do you want me to fuck you?” Jungkook whispers darkly, voice heavy with lust.
Yoongi visibly shudders. He coughs on his hand lightly to avoid suspicion. He can feel his face heating up and can only pray that he’s not as red as he thinks. He catches his classmate’s eyes in the middle row, the girl knits her eyebrows at him but Yoongi just gives her the best bitch face he can muster at the moment.
He pins the younger’s hands by the sides of his head, -
Yoongi looks around, eyeing if somebody else notices his struggle. He meets his professor’s eyes and he turns rigid, as if he’s caught watching porn in class (which just might be the case). But his professor turns his attention back to the report again.
“Daddy…” Taehyung begs between a sob and a moan.
Yoongi almost choke on his spit. Goodness gracious. What a fucking pervert of a soulmate he has. He sure is kinky too.
He’s gonna strangle him for real. He closes his eyes and takes another deep breath, calming himself. It’s embarrassing enough listening to his soulmate read smut while in front of everyone. It will even be more embarrassing if this turns him on.
Stop it. He thinks desperately, hoping that his soulmate will also hear him. Stop it! He shouts inside his head. But the voice just keeps on reading.
“Hyung. Are you okay?” Namjoon asks him softly beside him. Yoongi didn’t even notice that Hoseok is the one reporting now, discussing about the capacity of the brine agitator.
Shit, he’s up next.
“No. Fuck,” He answers. He can feel beads of sweat dripping down from his forehead.
“What’s happening hyung?” Namjoon asks.
“It’s no big deal Joon,” he assures the younger, though his voice is tight.
Namjoon was about to argue back but Hoseok already introduced him as the next reporter.
He takes the center and forces himself to calm the fuck down. He can’t help but feel that the looks of his classmates are too judgmental. It’s not his fault for having a pervert of a soulmate, ok?
“On your hands and knees baby,” Jungkooks says darkly.
Uh...yeah. What was his report again?
Thankfully, the projector is showing it already. But he still has to discuss for fuck’s sake.
“Freezing tank or brine tank is provided with a race way, which the evaporator coil is installed. In this design, the coil race way has a width of 40.36 inches,” Yoongi starts, voice lower than intended.
He avoids meeting anyone’s eyes, looking at a single spot on the opposite wall instead.
Jungkook thrusts without warning-
“-fuck,” he can’t help but mutter. He must have said it audibly because his classmates chuckle. He froze, finger hovering over that next/arrow key of the laptop. He dares look at his professor. Surely, the middle-aged man is giving him the look, but he doesn’t say anything so Yoongi counts that as I’ll-let-it-slide-for-now-kid.
He continues his discussion, his soulmate does too.
“The weight of ice block is 150kg, number of ice can per row is 20. That is 3000kg total weight per row.”
“Harder daddy, please,” Taehyung begs...
He pauses and takes a deep breath, looking at his shoes. He keeps forgetting about what’s next, damn it!
“Min Yoongi-shi,” the professor’s voice startles him, his head snaps back up to look him in the eyes, “Are you sick?”
“What?” he asks back, daring to scowl at him.
“You look sick Min Yoongi-shi.”
He wants to argue back, to tell his professor to just let him finish the fucking presentation and get this over with. But he does feel warm, his face and neck specifically.
“You look a little red hyung,” Hoseok whispers from the side.
Yoongi grits his teeth and clenches his fist. Goddamnit! He’s gonna strangle his piece of a shit soulmate for making him fucking blush in front of the class. Meanwhile, he needs to finish this.
“No sir, I’m not,” he says and proceeds, giving no room for arguments.
Taehyung grips the sheets, all thoughts gone except the feel of Jungkook…
He can’t wait to meet his soulmate.
Thankfully, he manages to conclude his presentation though it’s not easy if there’s a small voice in his head telling him that someone’s cumming.
The presentation ended successfully. Thank goodness for Namjoon, answering most of the professor’s questions. Bless him and his brain.
After the class, Yoongi spent the rest of the day trying to connect to his soulmate. He shouts for him in his mind, he even tries thinking hard of how he will skin him alive but no voice offered any response. The little fucker, disappearing after messing with him.
He doesn’t hear anything until he’s lying on his bed. Just when his consciousness slips away, he hears that sweet voice again.
Seoul is good. I might just like it here.
“Ah. So that means he just moved here,” Namjoon nods to himself, turning a page of his book, “that must be why his voice is clearer now. Because you’re closer to each other.”
They share a table in the library, studying (supposedly). Namjoon, being the whiz kid that he is, reads and listens to them at the same time. Hoseok is still on the same page for more than half an hour now. Yoongi’s book is inside his bag, maybe wondering when its owner will open it.
“Wow hyung. You’re gonna meet each other soon!” Hoseok exclaims. Yoongi watches him draw a duck on the upper left corner of the page.
Huh. Yoongi hopes to meet him soon too. It makes his toes curl in embarrassment, to think that the whole class saw him blushing from listening to a smut fic. Nah. It was just a slight fever, that’s what he told everyone, including his friends anyway.
The voice is indeed clearer than before but the thoughts are just as random. He tried connecting with him, tried to talk to him but he never got a response.
This just annoys Yoongi. He’s sure they’re closer now but he still doesn’t have a clue on where in Seoul he might be. But what can he do except wait for fate itself to let them meet?
He didn’t have to wait for long though.
Yoongi is sitting by the window in his usual cafe with a cup of hot Americano. Staring at the neat scrawls of rap lines in his notebook, he taps his pen on the wooden table in time with the beat playing in his head. The week had been really stressful and this is his way to de-stress, by doing what he loves.
He was distracted when the door chimes jingle. Annoyed, he looks up and stared at the guy who just entered. But his eyebrow-creases smoothens immediately.
He’s handsome, is what he first thought. He wears a button down shirt with a couple of buttons undone to show off his collar bones. His tight, black pants hug his thick, toned thighs. He’s got a dangling earing on his right ear and the prettiest eye smile Yoongi have ever seen.
He brushes his hair back and walks towards the counter to order, turning his back to where Yoongi is sitting. Yoongi’s eyes landed on his round, sexy butt.
He’s got a nice ass. He smiles to himself.
What? A voice- his soulmate- suddenly asks surprising him.
Huh? Is what he asks back. Did his soulmate just respond?
What did you say?
You’re talking to me? He asks, unsure if it’s really his soulmate responding or just a coincidence.
I...of course. But...
The guy at the counter suddenly looks around, seemingly surprised too. He has his eyebrows knitted, lips slightly apart, which makes him really cute and hot at the same time.
The guy’s gaze locks with his.
His heart skips just the tiniest beat.
And somehow he knows. He knows that he’s talking to him. To this cute, sexy guy with a nice ass in the counter. Inside his head that is.
Ah. So you’re that nice booty guy. He thinks, smiling at him.
Pervert.
Says the one who reads Taekook smut fics.
The guy gasps (in a really cute, childlike way), cheeks stained pink all the way to his neck which makes Yoongi smirk.
He spuns around, takes his order from the barista, then walks away from the counter. He stops a few tables away from Yoongi, gripping his steaming cup tightly with both hands and chewing on his bottom lip. He scans the café, there are still many unoccupied tables. Before he decides to occupy one, Yoongi asks.
Where do you think you’re going?
The guy visibly sucks a tiny breath, blush deepening. Without a word and still avoiding Yoongi’s eyes, he walks towards Yoongi and carefully sits across him.
Still with a smirk on his face, Yoongi props himself on the table and leans towards this sexy mochi sitting across him.
Yoongi’s eyes travel from his silky blond hair to his eyes which were perfectly made to smile and his pink, full lips. He’s got sharp jawlines but his cheeks looks so soft.
“You’re prettier up close,” he says out loud this time, “what’s your name?”
“Jimin,” he answers in a small, shy voice, staring at his coffe, “Park Jimin.”
Yoongi’s smile widens. Park Jimin, his voice is smoother, sweeter when he’s actually hearing it with his ears.
“Min Yoongi,” he says not even offering his hand for a handshake. He just stares at his soulmate who still looks like he might combust any second.
Fuck.
He’s hot.
He’s cute too.
And Yoongi’s whipped.