Chapter Text
Seokjin was baffled.
This, in and of itself, was nothing new. He was someone who was confused very often. However, today, he was on a whole different level of confusion - the sort of level that caused his heart to rapidly pound within his chest until he was convinced he was about to drop dead on the floor. He stared at his cell phone, hands trembling as the numbers displayed etched themselves into his mind.
"No way..." he mouthed, shaking his head at the audacity of the predicament he was presented with. "Is this actually... his cell phone number?"
[ record scratch ]
MULTIPLE DAYS BEFORE
Seokjin, Kim Seokjin, was a student enrolled in Bangtan High. He befriended both Hoseok and Jimin, who were both friendly sophomores in the school. Seokjin, on the contrary, was a senior. He had just so happened to obtain a new cellphone, and was also horribly in love with the school idol, Kim Namjoon.
Namjoon was a junior, and in Seokjin's eyes, he was perfect at everything. Not only was he handsome, with warm eyes and soft locks of dyed hair, he was also intelligent, mature, well-mannered, elegant, and really, Seokjin could continue listing positive qualities off of the metaphoric charts, much to the frustration of his friends.
"If you really like him so much," drawled Hoseok one lunch, his expression bored from tolerating yet another one of Seokjin's long gushes about Namjoon. "why don't you just confess to him already?"
"There's no way that'll happen," Jimin spoke up as he picked at his food, his face similarity resigned. "Jinnie-Hyung doesn't have the guts."
"I... I so do have the guts, you brat!" Seokjin declared through a spoonful of rice that nearly escaped his mouth. He pointed his chopsticks at Hoseok and Jimin. "Anyways, even thought I'm perfectly able to, I can't confess to him!" - putting them back down - "He's always busy with student council, and plus, he doesn't even know I exist. It's impossible. My handsome face isn't enough for me to win him over-"
"I don't see how it's impossible," interrupted Hoseok. "You can sneak a letter into his locker. You could approach him in the hall, just have simple conversation, at least."
The mere thought of talking to Namjoon was daunting. Seokjin visibly shivered. He could imagine it all - walking up to Namjoon with a nervous, wavering smile plastered upon his face, one hand raised and weakly waving, Namjoon staring at him blankly with those sharp eyes of his.
"H-Hello, Namjoon..." Seokjin would whisper, strength and charm comparing to those of the mushy noodles he cooks in his free time.
Seconds that seemed like hours would pass, nothing but Namjoon staring at Seokjin and Seokjin staring at Namjoon. Then, Namjoon would clear his throat.
"Your tie isn't knotted properly," Namjoon would say, and then he'd make his leave, abandoning Seokjin in the cold, uncaring hallway of Bangtan High.
Yeah. Seokjin was positive that that was going to happen.
"I can't talk to him," Seokjin repeated.
Hoseok sighed and ran his fingers through his paling hair. "Hyung... we're your friends. We want to help you. All you have to do is... just talk to Namjoon."
"You're scared to talk to him in person," added Jimin, "Can't you just get his number? Or is that too scary for you to handle too?" He leaned back in his chair, mouth quirking into a smirk. Seokjin glared at him.
"I'm not scared..." he forced out, "I-I'm just..."
"... scared," Jimin finished.
Seokjin slumped back in his seat. "I don't have his cell phone number, let alone know a way to get it!"
"Can't you just ask his friends?" Hoseok asked, "Like Taehyung and Yoongi?"
"... there's no way a loser like me can approach them."
"Hyung," Jimin sighed.
"Yes?"
"Whatever you do, just don't be a little bitch."
///
Jimin's kindly-phrased advice, in fact, did little to help Seokjin. After the bell dismissed them from lunch, Seokjin had bravely branched off from their posse in search of Namjoon's friends, only to turn directly around and speed walk in the retreating direction once he saw them coming down the hall. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk to Namjoon, or that he didn't want Namjoon's phone number. It was simply the fact that Seokjin was... basically...
"A little bitch," said Jimin with disgust from the passenger seat several hours later. Both him and Hoseok currently being driven home from school by Seokjin. "Not only did you not talk to him, but not even to his friends?"
"Honorifics, Jimin. You try being in love with someone," Seokjin muttered, hand tightly grasping the leather of the steering wheel as he lead the car to turn. "It's hard."
Hoseok released a forced-cough from the back seat, drawing the attention to him. Seokjin watched him through the mirror, eyes narrowed. "Still. You've been dragging this on for far too long. It really isn't that hard..."
"For someone as lame as Hyung, he'll probably only get Namjoon's number by finding it written on the walls of the bathroom," Jimin snickered, kicking his feet up upon the dashboard. "Like that has a chance of happening!"
Seokjin said nothing in response. He was done with the shenanigan.
As they approached a traffic light, he looked out the window at the sky, a deep purple, color rivaling the vibrancy of his Namjoon’s hair. On that train of thought, hadn't he asked Namjoon's friends for his phone number? Idiot. He should've. There was nothing to lose... well, other then the possibility of them informing Namjoon that a creepy upperclassmen was asking around for his number, but still.
Hoseok was right, this was dragging on for far too long. Either he had to face his fear, or force his feelings for Namjoon fade. Considering how Seokjin had fallen in love with him at first sight, the later remained the most probable course of action.
He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, deep in thought.
He was going to get that damn phone number even if it killed him.
///
The next morning, after consuming a large and nutritious breakfast, Seokjin dashed out of his house, opting to walk in applied to taking his car. Panting slightly, he checked his watch. He had ten minutes left to make it so school. Right then. Seokjin sped up his pace - he really should’ve just shelled out money for gas - walking was not his preferred method of transportation. Once he reached a crossing light, he patiently waited for it to turn green.
“Running late for school, are we, dearie?” Inquired an old women standing on the sidewalk next to him, her face wrinkled and friendly.
Seokjin shook his head, “No, ma’am... I’m just in a rush.”
The old women shook her head in response. “Kids these days are always in a rush. What happened to appreciating the small things in life?”
Seokjin blinked at the old woman, unsure of what to say.
“Nowadays, high schoolers only care about popularity and the media,” she continued. “Back in my day, people genuinely cared for one another. Kids were grateful for the things given to them and weren’t forced to grow up too fast...”
“Not everyone is life that,” Seokjin said. The light, he observed, was taking an awfully long time to turn green. Everything around him was utterly silent.
“Mhm.”
“Maybe it’s what you’re surrounded by, and that’s really unfortunate. But, there will always be good in people. And good in the world. You just have to look deep to see it sometimes.”
The old woman nodded, staring at Seokjin thoughtfully. “Well,” she bristled, “you certainly have a naive understanding. What, out of curiosity, is your deepest desire?”
Many things flashed through Seokjin’s mind, but only one stood out higher than the others. “I want a phone number,” stated Seokjin, bluntly.
The women’s eyebrows rose in faint surprise. “A... phone number?”
“C-Correct,” Seokjin confirmed, nodding. “There’s this... person I like. I’m not quite brave enough to confess to them in person, but maybe... you know, if I had their number, I could talk to them easier... at least that’s what I think, at least,” Seokjin ended hurriedly, suddenly embarrassed by his desire. It sounded so immature and childish once he said it out loud . He looked away, face flushed in shame.
The old woman simply smiled knowingly. “You wish to connect with another, that’s it?”
“Yeah,” said Seokjin. “I just want to, um, be with that person and... make them happy.”
“If you hold onto that desire, I’m sure you’ll reach it some day,” smiled the old woman, and with that, the light turned green.
Seokjin blinked. For a moment, while he was speaking with the woman, it had been fairly silent, the only things audible being the whistle of the wind and the old woman’s voice. Now, however, the honks and beeps of cars, the chatter of people walking to work, school, and other destinations, the tweeting of birds, the sound of life rose up and surrounded him.
Baffled and disoriented, Seokjin stood still for a moment. What just happened? He was positive it was quite a few moments ago.
He shook his head. Nothing out of the originally happened, he told himself. He had just gotten caught up in the conversation, that’s all. Whenever he started talking about a Namjoon, he zoned out anyways. Nothing special happened whatsoever. That in mind, Seokjin set off towards school, before glancing around for the old woman, who seemed to have been swept up in the crowd.
///
"Wow. I assumed you probably get off with some freaky things in your free time, but this is definitely the icing on the cake," Jimin laughed. "She sounded totally crazy. What was with that whole 'naive understanding' and 'deepest desire' stuff anyway?"
"I'm not sure," replied Seokjin, glancing around anxiously for a sign of Taehyung or Yoongi. The two of them were waiting in the main hall during the end of lunch break, prepared to ambush either of Namjoon's friends as they exited the cafeteria. It had, naturally, been Jimin's idea. "C-Can we go now?"
"Hyung, you have no balls. None. At all," was all Jimin said, staring off into the distance. "Seriously, this is Namjoon we're talking about. You have to have at least some courage if you have your eyes set on the most popular boy in the school!" He elbowed Seokjin in the side, who groaned deeply at the younger's antics. All this bravery he had mustered driving in the car yesterday was draining out of him like water through a pasta strainer. All he wanted to do was walk away and sit down in his next block classroom like nothing ever happened. Seokjin felt his legs wobbling beneath him, but he forced them to stay still.
Think of him, he told himself, and the boys face appeared in his mind. You're doing this for him. It's just his phone number. It's no big deal. Right?
"Ah. I think that's Taehyung," Jimin said after a short moment passed, and Seokjin felt himself freezing up all over again.
"Wait, wha-" before he had time to process this information, Jimin had shoved him directly into the path of Taehyung. When Seokjin looked up, he found himself staring right back into Taehyung's pleasant eyes. "O-Oh! I'm sorry!" Seokjin backed up quickly and looked around, but Jimin was nowhere to be seen.
"It's okay. No need to apologize. What is it?" Taehyung offered him a polite smile, taking the sudden run-in with Seokjin rather well.
Seokjin's face flushed red. "E-Er, well... uh..." he continued to glance around the hall. It felt as though every student had their eyes trained on him, even though nobody did. "I... um... N-Namjoon... phone..."
"Oh.. do you want his phone number?" Taehyung blinked, observant eyes glimmering with an emotion Seokjin couldn't quite identify.
He could almost die of relief, hearing those few words. This was a big step for him. "Yes! Yes, I do! Thank you endlessly, I-"
"I can't give it to you," continued Taehyung, sliding his hands into the pockets of his sweatshirt as he sighed, "Man. Namjoon-Hyung's number is what everyone stops me for nowadays. I'd be lying if I said it didn't sting..." he dramatically clutched at his chest, laughing to himself, "In all seriousness, you know how popular he is. You seem like a nice guy yourself, but if I give it to you, you could just give it to everyone. He's a busy man, and I doubt he can handle calls every second. I'm sorry, I just can't give it to you."
Seokjin opened his mouth, and not a sound came out.
"Maybe you can try talking to him?" Taehyung added, sensing the tension.
He felt his throat closing up.
"Or leave a note in his locker... wait. No. He gets a lot of those too. Hmm..."
"I... I can't..." Seokjin choked, voice pleading. "Can't you just give it to me?"
"Nope. Sorry. I advise you to just talk to him though!" Taehyung nodded at himself, seemingly satisfied with his words. "He's really not that hard to talk to. Anyways, I have to go. See you later," Taehyung raised a hand and saluted him before leaving. Seokjin remained in the same spot there, eyes wide and fixated on his retreating form.
"Yikes," said Jimin, suddenly popping up from behind the nearby water fountain. "That social interaction was incredibly awkward... and just totally lame, especially coming from an upperclassman such as yourself. At this rate, you just might have his number by the time you gradua-"
"Please. Don't finish that sentence."
///
The word seemed to now be devoid of color.
Alright, that was a bit dramatic.
Seokjin sat with his head on his desk. He had failed at his quest to speak to Namjoon yet again. Hoseok's plan had been stopped before it could even begin, since Taehyung had implied slipping a note into Namjoon's locker would be useless, since he already received so many of them.
"What do I so..." Seokjin groaned, burying himself deeper into his hands. His cell phone had beeped, momentarily breaking him from his thoughts. He dug into his pocket and took it out, posture straightening. It was a reminder to call Namjoon - Seokjin had set it the day before, back when he was convinced he would get his number.
"What's the point... fuck, I'm so lame and I don’t know how to fix it," he whispered into his phone, half expecting an answer in return. Sighing, Seokjin deleted the reminder and scrolled down his contact list, eyes dully counting the names he had recorded throughout the years.
Jimin, Hoseok, Jungkook (that one rowdy freshman he almost backed over with his Subaru just last month), Namjoon...
Wait.
What?
Seokjin quickly scrolled up and stared, breath hitching in his throat. It was Namjoon's number. There it was, in full glory, dark pixels contrasting against the pale white of his screen.
Kim Namjoon.
And here we find ourselves back at the beginning.
[ frame unfreezes ]
"This is... actually his phone number...?" The area code seemed a tad unfamiliar, but Seokjin wouldn't be surprised if Namjoon lived in a different part of town. His hands were shaking. Was he dreaming? How is this contact in his phone? There was no way. Maybe this was some sick, twisted coincidence...
It was definitely just a dream. To confirm his suspicions, Seokjin pressed the call button without hesitation and quickly put it to his ear, his heart thumping wildly. It rang, one, two, three times, before it was picked up.
"Hello?"
"Is this Kim Namjoon?" Seokjin was surprised his voice didn't waver.
A brief pause. "Yes, this is Namjoon speaking."
"U-Um..." Seokjin stammered, cursing himself for not preparing a detailed script before he called. His heart was beating quicker than he thought was humanly possible, his face growing hot. "I... I'm Seokjin. Kim Seokjin. I just... I just wanted to ask-"
A shirt intake of breath. "You're... you're Kim Seokjin!"
Seokjin blinked. Why would Namjoon be so surprised? Dread stirred in the pit of his stomach, informing him something was amiss. Something about this didn’t add up. "Yeah. That's me, worldwide handsome."
"You actually... you have my number? I never thought you would.... actually call..."
"Huh?" Seokjin was utterly perplexed. His stomach sank at the skeptical tone in Namjoon's voice. "I'm sorry, I'll hang up n-"
"No!" Namjoon shouted, then more quietly, "I'm happy you called, I really am. I'm just, well, how did you manage to get my number?"
"I have no idea either. It was just there."
"Intriguing."
"Yeah."
A uncomfortable silence stretched, and the burning desire to say something built in Seokjin more and more. He eventually decided to open his mouth, but Namjoon beat him to it.
"I know this may appear a bit peculiar, a little too sudden," began Namjoon, "but... perhaps, tomorrow, after school, would you like to... hang out?"
"Gah." Seokjin couldn't quite process what Namjoon had asked of him.
"Of course, if you don't wish to, that's perfectly fine, but I-"
"It's fine! It's more than fine!" Seokjin practically bellowed into the poor phone. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined that Namjoon would be the one to ask Seokjin out. His heart was beating hard, and Seokjin could barely control the smile that split across his face. Namjoon asked him out. Kim fucking Namjoon asked him out. He still couldn't believe it.
"Where do you want to go?" Seokjin almost knocked over desk as he stood up, sending pens scattering across the carpet of his bedroom. He reached down and grasped one before running over to his calendar to commemorate the day officially.
"Anywhere you want," came the deep rumble of Namjoon.
"I don't care," Seokjin excitedly circled the date a second time. Tomorrow. It was a little counterintuitive, circling the date a day in advance, but Seokjin did it anyways. "Anywhere is perfectly fine." Anywhere at all. It didn't matter as long as he was with Namjoon. All Seokjin wanted was to be with him. The happiness rising in his heart was too great to suppress. How was it possible in the span of minutes did his aura shift from gloomy to giddy? Seokjin thanked whatever gods where out there for this sacred chance, "Anywhere is... great."
Namjoon laughed. It was a pleasant sound that Seokjin then realized he had never heard Namjoon laugh before, not truly. Seokjin decided it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard in his life.
"Well, I propose we can meet up at school and talk then. We can allow our own wits to guide us," Namjoon continued, voice even.
"Y-Yeah," said Seokjin, a bit dazed. Anything would've been fine with him. He could hardly wait for tomorrow. "That sounds like a plan to me."
///
The following day was a bright, sunny morning that seemed to match itself perfectly to Seokjin's mood. He dashed down the stairs, prepared himself breakfast, grabbed his car keys, and burst out the door. He left a tad earlier than usual today, and judging from his address, Namjoon should be arriving at school right around the same time he would arrive.
Seokjin's feet stopped at the entrance gate at the campus of Bangtan High. Now, Namjoon was walking down the other side of the road, the sun casting what looked like a halo around him. His purple hair shimmered in the sunlight and his eyes were focused on the philosophy book he was currently reading.
"Namjoon!" Seokjin cried excitedly, waving his arms. Namjoon immediately looked up from the literature.
Seokjin expected to see recognition reflecting in Namjoon's eyes, expected to see a similar smile forming upon Namjoon's face, but instead, what he was greeted with an expression of confusion and weariness. Seokjin sped up his pace so he was walking alongside Namjoon.
"Excuse me, Hyung," said Namjoon, voice tense yet polite, "Who are you?"
"... Huh? We talked last night..." was all Seokjin said. Was Namjoon playing some type of joke on him? "I'm Kim Seokjin, remember?" The elder smiled warmly at him.
Namjoon was looking back at Seokjin as though Seokjin had grown a second head. "I did not talk with you last night."
Something jammed in Seokjin's brain. No way. That couldn't have been a dream. Seokjin was sure, absolutely certain, that he had talked to Namjoon last night. He even checked his call history this morning to make sure. There was no way he did not talk to Namjoon. Was Namjoon kidding? He knew he was multi-talented, but was no way he could be such a good actor. Seokjin tried again, "You... you don't remember?"
Namjoon slowly shook his head, an uneasy smile settling upon his face. "I... I have a lecture to attend to... its contents are substantial to the exceeding of a designated class to the degree of which I attend..."
In that exact moment, Seokjin's phone started to ring, the melody sticking out like a sore thumb in the early morning's ambience. Irritated, Seokjin fumbled for it. If it was Jungkook calling him about something stupid like forgetting his homework, Seokjin would definitely kill the kid later-
Kim Namjoon calling.
Seokjin stared at the phone. His heart stopped.
Kim Namjoon calling.
That was at least what the display said, no matter how many times his eyes read over it. The phone rang loudly in his hand. Seokjin took this time to glance at Namjoon, who had excused himself from Seokjin's company when he was distracted, and noticed he was still reading the text book.
Heart beating faster, Seokjin swallowed as he stared back at the screen.
Kim Namjoon calling.
But Namjoon, he was reading. The Namjoon here wasn't calling him. Regardless, Seokjin flipped open the phone and pressed it against his ear, curiosity and dread overwhelming his senses.
"I... I don't know who the fuck you are... but we need to talk," breathed the Namjoon over the phone, voice shaken, a muddled mixture between fear and curiousity.
Seokjin glanced back at the Namjoon here, who was skillfully navigating a crowd of students near the front doors with his nose still in the book, jacket rustling in the gentle breeze.
"Yes. We do, Namjoon," agreed Seokjin, bracing himself against the fence, "we really do."