Work Text:
There was an art to finding the right table at the library. Not too close to the entrance where everyone was coming in, but not too far to the back where couples usually took to making out. Not too close to the bathroom in case it smelled, but not too far if you needed to go. And most importantly (especially if you were writing a beast of research paper), close enough to the reference desk that you could put in book requests and still keep an eye on your things.
It was with this is mind that Namjoon rushed out of last class to make sure he could secure a good table.
“Where are you running to, Namjoon-hyung?” a voice called from behind him. “I thought we could get lunch!”
“Another time, Jimin! I need to get started on this paper for Harris, I’ll see you back in the dorm!”
“That’s not even due till end of term,” Jimin huffed behind him.
Namjoon hurried onto the library. Common hours started right after his class and if he didn’t get there right away, he’d end up sitting at that small, rickety table next to the faculty bathrooms.
No thanks.
He waved his ID at the security guard as he sprinted into the building, dodging a slow-moving group of students, taking the steps two at a time up to the second floor, eyes immediately landing on the empty table to the immediate right of the reference desk. Score.
Namjoon let out a sigh of satisfaction as he plopped into the chair, letting his book bag fall off his shoulder and into the seat beside him. The success of schoolwork for him was at least 50% other factors besides for having to do schoolwork. He had to be in the right place, in the right frame of mind, have the right tools, and definitely, the right table. Jimin and Hoseok would tease him about it, saying he was just looking for a reason to procrastinate when he would give up on studying if the mood wasn’t right or the lights were too dim, but, Namjoon thought as he set up his laptop and notebook, the amount of work he could get done in one, proper, sitting more than made up for it.
He quickly flipped through his notebook, finding the page where he had jotted down the books he wanted to look at, glancing up at the reference desk to see if Mrs. Yarrow was busy already.
Namjoon gulped.
The small, motherly woman in homespun sweater sets whom he was accustomed to seeing helping students and typing at a slow, deliberate pace was nowhere to be seen. In her stead, was a boy. A very cute boy, with tousled, honey-colored hair and an oversized hoodie, long tan fingers typing something into the computer as a student showed him a piece of paper (most likely an assignment sheet).
And then, oh god, the boy smiled and Namjoon be damned if he’d ever seen a smile quite as beautiful.
His phone buzzed suddenly and Namjoon jumped, startled out of his sudden thirsting for the new librarian and he remembered he had come here to start his paper for Professor Harris.
Research paper.
Professor Harris.
Toughest grader in the psychology department.
Right.
Namjoon gulped again, a hand unconsciously going up to smooth his hair before grabbing his notebook and taking the few steps to the reference desk, finding himself suddenly looking at a pair of large, liquid eyes and a perfectly red mouth and the cutest little freckle on the tip of –
“Hi! Can I help you?”
Namjoon’s mind went blank.
“Is it your first time here?’ the boy questioned his voice somehow deep and chipper at the same time. “That’s okay! If you have the name of a book, or an author, or even just a topic, I can – oh.”
The boy peered at the open notebook Namjoon had just jammed in his face, and began typing into the computer.
“Perfect, you even have the year of publication. I’ll make sure to get you the right edition.”
Namjoon watched for a moment as the boy tapped away before finally finding his voice again, wiping sweaty palms on his pants.
“Um, you’re not Mrs. Yarrow.”
He could smack himself.
“I’m not,” the boy chuckled, and Namjoon felt his heart clench. “Though people have made that mistake before.”
“What? No –”
“Don’t look so shocked,” the boy smiled, peeking up through his bangs at Namjoon. “Twas a joke.”
“Ah, yeah, of course…um, she’s okay though?”
“Mrs. Yarrow?”
Namjoon nodded.
“She’s alright. Has her daughter’s wedding coming up and a whole drawer full of unused vacation days so she’s taking off basically till the end of March.” He paused to write down a slew of numbers on a pad of paper next to the keyboard. “They couldn’t find a proper fill-in so they used the position as an internship opportunity for English department students.” He ripped the piece of paper off the top of the pad and looked back up at Namjoon, eyes crinkling into another beatific smile. “That’s me!”
“Oh, you’re a student? That makes sense, you looked too young to be well, you know.”
“Mrs. Yarrow?” he teased as Namjoon reddened. “Do you know her well?”
“Not really,” Namjoon said, shaking his head. “I just spend a lot of time here, so I see a lot of her.”
“Well, I guess you’ll be seeing a lot of me then. I’m Kim Taehyung.”
He stuck his hand out and Namjoon couldn’t help but notice how soft and warm the skin felt as he shook it.
“I’m Namjoon. Kim Namjoon.”
“Well then, Namjoon,” Taehyung said as he hopped of the desk chair, “Two of these books are archived so I’ll need to get them personally. I can pick up the other two since I’ll be up already.”
“Oh really, it’s okay –”
Taehyung flapped a hand at him as he plopped a “Be Back Soon!” sign on the desk.
“I wasted enough of your study time with my chatting, don’t worry about it. Besides, cute boys like you should be used to people doing things for them.”
And then Taehyung was gone between the long rows of books and Namjoon collapsed back at his table, feeling relieved that the interaction was over and strangely euphoric that it had happened before realizing that Taehyung had called him cute.
*
“You’re a disaster.”
“I know,” Namjoon groaned, burying his head in his hands.
It was just past 10pm and Jimin had guilted him into getting noodles at the small shop just off campus after ditching him at lunch. So of course, Namjoon had told his roommate all about his messy first conversation with the cute, new library intern.
“What I don’t understand,” Jimin said, punctuating his words with a wave of his chopsticks, “is how you could give a flawless twenty minute presentation on the theory of the universal unconscious just last week, have the department’s shyest TA falling for you insanely large dimples, yet –” Jimin paused to slurp a noodle, “you can’t get out a fully formed sentence with someone you’re actually interested in.”
“I’m not interested, I’m just, ugh, he’s just so cute, Jiminie. I can’t talk to cute boys.”
“But I’m cute and you talk to me just fine.”
“You know what I mean.”
Jimin clutched his chest in mock horror. “Kim Namjoon. Are you saying I’m not cute?”
Namjoon flicked a piece of noodle at him.
“Gross, hyung.” Jimin finished off his bowl, setting it down on the plastic tabletop. “Listen, you’re just out of practice. Just talk about…books or something.” He smacked his hand on the table. “Ask what his favorite book is! Totally feels natural because, duh, library, and then you can have a perfect little entryway conversation. And then say you have to go study and ask him if he’d like to finish the conversation in your bed.”
Namjoon choked on his noodles.
“Or over a cup of coffee, whichever you prefer.”
“That’s…that’s actually not a half bad idea,” Namjoon said after he had cleared his throat.
“Three quarters good ideas.” Jimin leaned back in his seat. “My specialty.”
*
Namjoon had tried to justify the extra fifteen minutes he took the next morning to get ready, quoting some self-help book to himself about loving yourself enough to take care of yourself before he said screw it and pulled on his tightest pair of jeans.
If he was going to make a fool of himself today in front of Kim Taehyung, he might as well look hot doing it.
He balanced the look with a soft yellow sweater and a pair of worn brown boots, deciding last minute to run a little product through his silvery hair.
As good as it’s gonna get.
His classes crawled by, and by some stroke of luck, Professor Minter dismissed them almost twenty minutes early because of a faculty meeting. He could vaguely hear Jimin call, “Get ‘em smoochie!” from behind him as he rushed out, throwing his bag over his shoulder. Forcing himself to slow down so he didn’t arrive all sweaty, Namjoon crossed the courtyard and entered the library at an only slightly accelerated pace.
He tried to continue his natural pace as he walked across the room to the table he had yesterday, not daring to look up until he had set down his bag and taken a breath, finally looking up to see…not Taehyung.
There was a girl sitting there, seemingly also an interning student with a university t-shirt and her hair tied up in a ponytail. Namjoon tried not to look to obviously disappointed as he approached her.
“Hello, what can I do for you?”
“Um, this may seem odd, but do you by any chance know where Kim Taehyung is? He was here yesterday.”
She looked surprised for a moment before flicking her eyes to a large clock on the far wall.
“Probably still in class, but he should be here soon. Was there something he was helping you with?”
“Oh, just…” Namjoon’s eyes flitted around for a second before finishing lamely with – “a book.”
“Well,” the girl said, one of her eyebrows raised playfully. “If I could help you with a book, just let me know.”
Namjoon chuckled weakly. “Ah, I was actually wondering about the intern thing. He told me you guys were filling in for Mrs. Yarrow for a bit.”
The girl nodded. “It’s actually a really cool opportunity, the department is accrediting it and everything. Everyone has to put in a certain amount of hours a week. I got lucky, a lot of morning hours when the library’s still quiet. Unfortunately, Taehyung got stuck with common hours every day since a lot of the other interns have other club responsibilities.”
Namjoon grimaced sympathetically. The library was always busiest during common hours.
“Anyways,” the girl continued, “if you’re interested, I can ask the department head if they’re still looking? I’m pretty sure they filled all the hours already, but maybe someone wants to drop out or –”
“No, no,” Namjoon said hastily. “I…don’t think it’s for me. Don’t have the time.”
“Oh, that’s okay.” Her face suddenly brightened and she waved to someone past Namjoon. “Oh, there’s Taehyung!”
Namjoon thought his mind may have exaggerated how attractive Taehyung was from yesterday to today, but seeing him walk towards him, smiling brightly and waving back to the girl at the desk, wearing a soft gray sweater and a snapback, Namjoon felt his mouth go dry.
“Hey, Hana,” Taehyung said to the dark-haired girl as he approached. “You’re good to go.”
He turned to Namjoon, still smiling. “Namjoon, good to see you. Didn’t think I’d see you so again so quickly – you seemed like you got a lot of work done yesterday.”
Namjoon’s heart fluttered when Taehyung remembered his name, but before he could answer about how he practically lived in the library, the girl – Hana – started talking quickly as she pulled on her jacket.
“So there’s a girl sitting on the far side who researching something about the Byzantine Era and she has like, ten books, so make sure they’re returned and there’s a group studying in the back who asked for materials on Gaudi but I haven’t pulled them up yet –”
“I got it, don’t worry,” Taehyung said with a chuckle. “I know how annoyed Mina gets when you’re late for debate.”
“Thanks, you’re the best!” Hana called as Taehyung shooed her away, settling himself behind the large desk.
Namjoon realized a moment too late that he was still awkwardly standing by the desk as Taehyung looked up at him.
“Kinda like changing of the guards,” he said, a small smile still softening his mouth. “Was Hana in middle of helping you with something?”
“Oh, um not really, I mean I’m still working on that paper from yesterday –”
“Ah, yeah. Do you want those books on Jung again?”
“That would be great actually,” Namjoon said, ridiculously pleased that Taehyung had also remembered what he was working on.
Taehyung nodded, focusing on his computer for a moment as he pulled up the correct books and jotting them down on the pad of paper again.
“It’ll just be a moment,” Taehyung said as he put the sign up on his desk again. “I think I remember where these were archived.”
Feeling an odd sense of de ja vu as he watched Taehyung briskly walk away, Namjoon settled back at his table, setting up his work materials. Best to get his head in the game before Taehyung came back to distract him with his stupidly handsome face.
Namjoon managed a shy, dimpled smile as Taehyung set the books on his table a few minutes later, before quickly returning to his desk where two students were waiting.
He was focused on collecting passages he wanted to use from each book before getting into the writing too heavily, so intent on not being distracted by the sunny boy just a glance away that he felt like he was making spectacular progress as he closed the second book, jotting down a note about looking into theories of structuralism more.
Then he looked at the pile of books he still wanted to go through and groaned. This was going to take forever – screw Jimin for making him feel like he was starting this project too early, he’d be lucky if he enough time to properly edit this. But as Namjoon picked up the next book, he realized the pile seemed a little too tall and he counted the books quickly…six? Hadn’t he only asked for four?
The bottom two books were definitely not ones he had requested, one which seemed like a collection of Jung’s essays and one on…van Gogh?
Namjoon hesitated for a moment, holding the books. Should he go return them to Taehyung? He didn’t want to embarrass him for making a mistake, but what if someone else was waiting for these books? Quickly making a decision, he walked the few steps to Taehyung’s desk just as another student walked away.
“Hello, again,” Taehyung said brightly. “Everything alright?”
“I don’t think these books are mine,” Namjoon said quickly before he could overthink it, placing the two books in front of him. God, Taehyung looked good in a snapback. “I mean, it’s totally okay, I was just worried that someone might be waiting for them, like I don’t mind having more books on my table or anything. I love books.”
Namjoon shut himself up as Taehyung fingered the edge of one of the books, making no move to take it, and…was that a blush creeping onto his cheeks?
“Ah, they’re actually for you. I…I saw you asked for Jung’s “Psychology of the Unconscious” and I know people usually just focus on it through a pure, psychology lens, but there are some really interesting parallels between van Gogh’s views on normality in his art and Jung’s view on the unconscious,” Taehyung said, not really meeting Namjoon’s eye, his blush deepening as he spoke.
“Oh.”
“Never mind, I’ll take them back,” Taehyung said shaking his head. “It was dumb, you probably know what you’re doing and you don’t need me giving you extra work.”
Taehyung put out his hand to take the books, but before he could think about it, Namjoon laid his own hand atop Taehyung’s, stopping him.
“That’s – that’s actually fascinating,” Namjoon said, and Taehyung finally looked up to meet his eye. “I was starting to worry that my paper was sounding too run of the mill and I’m really trying to impress this professor. I would love to incorporate that – it would totally transform my paper into something unique.”
“Really?”
Namjoon nodded and suddenly both boys were very aware that their hands were still atop one another’s and they snatched them back at the same exact moment. Taehyung giggled.
“Well then, glad I can help,” Taehyung said with a smile.
“Do you know much about Jung?”
“In a roundabout way, I guess.” Taehyung fiddled with a pen. “I’m an art minor, so I studied his work in relation to van Gogh. I came at it more through an art perspective, but it goes either way.”
“I don’t really know anything about art,” Namjoon admitted.
“I can help you if you want? I mean, if it’s not weird for you.”
“You would do that?”
Taehyung nodded. “I can’t leave the desk, but you can drag a chair over. It gets pretty boring here when there aren’t students to help. It’ll probably get too busy closer to finals, but this week shouldn’t get too bad.”
Namjoon couldn’t believe his luck. The hot library intern was also super smart and nice and he not only had a perfect opportunity to talk with him, but his paper was going to be bomb as fuck.
“I don’t know how to thank you. That would be awesome.”
*
He was a little nervous when he dragged a chair over to Taehyung’s desk the next day, but the boy already had all of the books Namjoon was working with in a pile on the desk and he looked so excited to see him that Namjoon forgot his anxiety.
The day after that, Namjoon realized he didn’t have rush to the library to get a table since he’d be sitting by the reference desk, so he stopped by the campus café to pick up two cups of hot chocolate and splurged on two large blueberry muffins, hoping Taehyung wasn’t a stickler about eating in the library.
He wasn’t.
But then it was Friday morning and Namjoon sat in his bed slightly depressed as he realized his library sessions with Taehyung had quickly become his favorite part of the day and now, with the weekend starting, Namjoon was feeling like his Friday seemed oddly bleak.
Jimin was already sitting at their small kitchen table when he finally dragged himself out of bed, absentmindedly eating a bowl of cereal and he scrolled through his phone.
Namjoon slumped into the seat across from him with a sigh.
“Who pissed in your coffee?” Jimin asked, not looking up from his phone.
“I haven’t even had coffee yet,” Namjoon grumbled, kicking at Jimin’s foot under the table.
Jimin looked up, softening as he saw Namjoon staring dejectedly at the top of the table.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“You’ll just make fun of me.”
“Come on, I won’t.”
Namjoon sighed. “I guess I didn’t realize how much I looked forward to seeing Taehyung at the library and now it’s the weekend and…it’s dumb, forget it.”
Jimin was actively trying to school his features into one of sympathy despite the twinkle in his eyes.
“Aw that’s kinda cute, hyung. You’ll see him Monday, though. It’s only three days.”
“I guess.”
“Well, if you miss him that much, why don’t you text him and ask to hang out. It’s about time you see him someplace other than the library.”
“Ah, well,” Namjoon studied his fingernails, “I don’t have his number.”
Jimin gasped. “Oh my god, are you serious? You’ve been having study dates every day this week and you still didn’t ask for his number!?”
“I meant to,” Namjoon protested. “It just never came up and I didn’t want to pressure him and I don’t even know if he likes me –”
“I’m pretty sure he likes you.”
“Fine…I’ll ask him Monday.”
“You better, or I’m going to ask him myself. He’s in my core physics class and he looked super cute on Wednesday –”
Namjoon through a balled up napkin at Jimin’s head, but it fell short and landed in his bowl of cereal and the two looked at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter.
*
He chickened out on Monday, but Namjoon felt good about Tuesday, dressed neatly in a light brown sweater over a blue button-down shirt and his favorite beanie. He figured he could ask just before they parted ways, saying something along the times of, “let’s exchange numbers in case I have a question”…no, he didn’t want Taehyung to think he only wanted him around for schoolwork. How about, “We should talk about other stuff besides studying”? Did that seem sleazy?
Namjoon shook his head.
Stop overthinking it, Namjoon, he told himself. Just do what feels natural.
Taehyung was already seated at his desk and looking cute as ever as Namjoon walked over to him, carrying two iced-teas, his fingers semi-numb from carrying them all the way from the better café on the far side of campus.
“You’re spoiling me,” Taehyung chided as Namjoon set down one of the cups in front of him, but his eyes were sparkling and he looked happy as he sipped the drink.
“It’s the least I can do,” Namjoon responded. “You have no idea how much I appreciate this. This is going to be the best paper I’ve ever written.”
“That’s so not true,” Taehyung said with a blush. “You’re super smart, I’m sure you’ve written a ton of amazing papers.”
Taehyung eyes looked past Namjoon to see a student approaching and he handed the elder a piece of paper with some row and shelf numbers before he could respond.
“Can you pick up these books while I help this student? They’re some other material I thought might work well with what you already have.”
Namjoon nodded, taking the paper as Taehyung turned to help the student, heading towards the correct row. He quickly found the first two books on the list – a recently published work comparing Freud and Jung and a book on Impressionist theory – before scratching his head confusedly at the last series of numbers. He had no idea where that row was and he had never seen a shelf number go into the thousands.
Taehyung probably miswrote it or something, he thought as he trudged back with the two books.
The desk was free when he returned, Taehyung flashing a boxy smile as he returned.
“That was quick.”
“Yeah,” Namjoon said leaning over the desk to point at the last number on the list. “I couldn’t find this one though. I’ve never come across this row.”
“Ah, must be a mistake,” Taehyung said hurriedly quickly focusing on his computer. “Let me just pull up the number again, just a minute.”
Taehyung looked slightly mortified which seemed strange for such a small mistake and there was a noticeable blush high on his cheeks. Namjoon looked down at the paper again. He was an idiot.
“Oh my god. This is your number.”
Taehyung stopped typing suddenly, slowly tearing his eyes from the computer to meet Namjoon’s.
“Sorry, it was dumb, I was trying to be smooth about it, but…” Taehyung trailed off looking helpless.
“No, no it wasn’t dumb. It was actually super cute, I’m just an idiot. I – I was actually planning to ask for your number today, well I was planning to ask yesterday but I was too nervous, but that’s beside the point.”
The mortification had bled out of Taehyung’s face and he was looking tentatively up at Namjoon.
“Well, you have it now.”
“Yeah. I guess I do.”
There was still a bit of blush on Taehyung’s cheeks as he turned to one of the new books Namjoon had brought, flipping it open to show him the part in it he thought might work well in the paper and Namjoon couldn’t help but lean closer than he needed to over the desk to see what he was pointing at.
They parted with a shyer than usual goodbye when common hours were over and Namjoon watched as another student took over the reference desk, Taehyung hurrying to his next class.
He looked at the piece of paper that Taehyung had given him, number at the bottom, and Namjoon shook his head with a smile before carefully folding the paper and putting it in his bag for safekeeping.
*
The paper, it seemed, was not kept safely in his bag.
It was only after Namjoon had gotten back to the dorm and frantically emptied his entire bag, his jacket pockets, and shook out every notebook before he realized that he had really lost Taehyung’s number.
And to top it all off, the small dorm room felt like a sauna. Since when were they generous with the heat? He groaned as he walked over to the window, sighing in relief as the cold air rushed in before plopping himself on the couch, surrounded by the contents of his bag. And he felt so tired. He’d just close his eyes for a few minutes and then check his bag again. Maybe it had gotten stuck to the bottom of a pocket or something…
“Oh. My. God. Are you insane? It’s freezing in here!”
Namjoon stirred, blinking blearily, wincing at the loud sound of the window being slammed shut.
“Jimin? Is that you?”
“Who else would it be? Gosh, it’s like two degrees in here, I’m getting a sweater.”
His head was pounding as he got up and he felt sluggish. He shivered, but his skin felt warm. Jimin reappeared, bundled in a worn yellow sweater as he approached the couch, moving notebooks out of the way so he could sit next to Namjoon, irritation gone from his voice and concern painting his face.
“Are you okay, hyung? You look really flushed.”
“I…I was fine earlier, I just feel really hot. And nauseated.”
Jimin was pressing a cool hand to his forehead and Namjoon almost whimpered from how good it felt.
“I think you’re sick.”
“Sick?”
“Yeah, there’s a bug going around. Hoseok had it last week.”
“I’m not…” Namjoon wavered as he tried to get up, room spinning a little and his stomach lurching.
He barely made it to the bathroom in time as he puked into the toilet. Jimin was behind him, wetting a hand towel in the sink and pressing it to the back of his neck.
“I’m…I’m sick, Jimin.”
“No shit, Sherlock.”
*
Namjoon laid back in bed the next morning as he finished emailing his professors that he wouldn’t be showing up to class. Jimin had left soup for him in the fridge before running to class, but he didn’t really trust himself to keep anything down right now. Also the fridge seemed really far away.
He groaned. There was no way he would make it to the library today to see Taehyung and he couldn’t even text him that he’d be missing their usual study date. His head was pounding and he grabbed the bottle of extra-strength Tylenol Jimin had left on his night table, downing two pills.
It’s okay, he told himself. Taehyung’s not going to hate you for not showing up one day. Though he’ll probably wonder why you haven’t texted him, he’ll probably be annoyed and never want to speak to you again –
Namjoon groaned covering his face with his pillow trying to get himself to stop being so pessimistic. He just had to sleep off this bug and he’d be perfect by tomorrow.
He ended up dozing, slipping in and out of consciousness, finally woken by the insistent buzzing of his phone. He picked up, voice raspy.
“Jiminie?”
“Hey Joon-hyung, just wanted to check in. How are you feeling?”
“Like death warmed over.”
Jimin’s warm chuckle came through the speaker. “Charming. Did you eat the soup? You need to keep up your strength.”
“I don’t feel like I could keep it down.”
“Try, hyung. It’s good for you.”
There was some rustling on the other end and he heard Jimin shout something before returning to the call.
“I need to go to my next class, but I’ll be back by 5 so let me know if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Jimin. Don’t worry about me.”
He was about to end the call when something Jimin had said clicked in his brain.
“Wait! You still there?”
“Yeah, you okay? You need something?”
“Didn’t you say that you have a class with Kim Taehyung? Can you tell him I can’t make it to the library today?”
“Ah, I’m sorry, hyung. I had that class in the morning already.”
“It’s okay, never mind. Thanks for checking in.”
Namjoon ended the call with a sigh. Damn.
It would be fine, he reasoned. He would just explain the situation to Taehyung tomorrow. No biggie.
Except that he wasn’t better by the next day. He woke up in a cold sweat the next morning, stomach still rolling, Jimin anxiously trying to get him to drink some water.
“Maybe we should go to the doctor, Joon.”
“No, no, it’s not that bad.”
Jimin raised an eyebrow.
“Didn’t you say Hoseok had this bug? How long did it last for him?”
“It was a 48 hour one.” Jimin sighed. “I was hoping you’d be better by today since you were able to keep down the soup and toast last night.”
“I’ll…I’ll just skip class today and tomorrow’s Friday so I don’t have to worry about missing more class if I need to rest over the weekend. If I’m not better after that, I’ll go to the doctor, okay?”
Agreeing with a sigh, Jimin left to class only after making Namjoon promise he’d call him if he started feeling worse and reminding him that he’d have his phone on him all day except when he was at dance.
Namjoon agreed, his heart sinking. He had meant to ask Jimin to go to the library and let Taehyung know what was going on, completely forgetting that he had dance during common hours. Damn it again.
Next time he saw Taehyung, he was bringing that boy flowers. And cookies. Maybe a present.
So when he woke up Friday morning (basically afternoon) finally feeling refreshed, all signs of the bug out of his system, he dressed quickly in a green hoodie, jeans, and a beanie and headed out to the art store that was a chilly twenty minute walk from his dorm.
Last time they had talked, he remembered Taehyung telling him he’d been so inspired by all the art he’d been studying that he’d started dabbling in drawing and painting. “Just a little, hyung,” he had said, “Art supplies are really expensive, but I’m going to save up.” He had even shyly showed Namjoon a few sketches he had done, face crinkling with smile when Namjoon had praised the drawings.
Namjoon didn’t know the first thing about art supplies, but there was a really helpful employee who patiently took him around the shop and helped him select the items, gave him a cute little drawstring bag to put the items in, and applied a student discount and the membership discount even though he wasn’t a member.
So after Namjoon thanked him profusely, he left the shop holding the bag tightly feeling a little better. He knew it was likely Taehyung probably thought he was ignoring him, but he hoped the gift would be enough to convince him that he was still very much interested in the boy.
He was starting to fade a little as he walked back, stopping as a he passed a retro-looking smoothie shop. That would actually be a good idea, he thought as pushed the door open. He was still nervous about solid foods, but a smoothie sounded easier to keep down.
It was when he was waiting at the other end of the counter for his drink to be made when he heard a familiar voice. He turned around to check, before gasping and turning straight again, pulling his beanie further down on his head – it was Taehyung. And he wasn’t alone.
Namjoon sidled a little back so he was close enough to hear and his body was blocked by one of the tall potted plants on the side as he peeked over at the table, shamelessly eavesdropping.
Taehyung wasn’t facing him, thank god, but he could still see the edge of his sharp profile, soft hair tousled in the most adorable way and he was talking quite animatedly, waving his hands around as he spoke to the guy across from him who seemed…bored.
Namjoon frowned. He knew he was biased, but the guy looked like Grade A douchebag with a tight polo shirt and carefully styled hair, his eyes wandering to check the phone sitting on his lap literally every three seconds. Rude.
Taehyung was talking about something that had happened the other day in the class, seemingly intent on carrying the conversation, when Polo Shirt interrupted him, exhaling heavily.
“How about we head back to my place and have some fun. This place is dead.”
The girl behind the smoothie counter was calling his order so Namjoon missed his response as he took the drink from her, but when he turned back, he guessed Taehyung’s answer didn’t sit well with the other guy because he was looking annoyed and Taehyung was looking a little uncomfortable.
“Didn’t take you for a prude,” Polo Shirt was saying. “Whatever, let’s leave. Maybe you’ll change your mind on the way.”
He grabbed Taehyung’s wrist as he got up and Namjoon felt his free hand curl into a fist. Taehyung pulled his arm away.
“I – I’m not done my drink yet.”
“Well maybe if you knew how to shut up for a minute you’d have had time to finish it. Let’s go.”
Namjoon had spent too many nights binge-watching Supernatural well into the wee hours of the morning, so it was only expected that he had imagined at one time or another what it would feel like to be possessed – to be present in your own mind but have no control over what your body was doing,
Well, Namjoon thought as he stepped out from behind the plastic plant and watched his arm raise itself and dump the entirety of his strawberry-mango smoothie over Polo Shirt’s head, this was probably as close as he was going to get to the feeling.
Silence fell in the small smoothie shop as Polo Shirt let out a shout of surprise, whirling around to face Namjoon, bits of smoothie flying off of him, his face twisted and angry.
“The fuck, man!?”
“Sorry,” Namjoon said holding up his hands. “Hand slipped.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?! Your hand slipped?!”
Namjoon peeked down at Taehyung who was still sitting, mouth open and face torn somewhere between utter confusion and amusement.
“Namjoon?” he said in disbelief
“You know this fucker?” Polo Shirt hissed.
Taehyung made to answer, but the guy’s face was red, complimenting the smoothie that was dripping off his hair and Taehyung bit his lip to stop a giggle from escaping. The guy caught it though, face turning even redder as he realized the whole shop was watching the scene and grabbed the entire napkin container from the table and stomped off, shouting “Fuck you!” behind him.
There was an awkward pause as Namjoon and Taehyung stared at each other, the other people in the store slowly starting to murmur in conversation again, the faint call of one of the employees asking for a mop.
“You, uh, you have smoothie on your face,” Taehyung finally said.
Namjoon reached a hand to touch his cheek, touching the stickiness there.
“I guess I do.”
They stared at each other for another moment and then Taehyung burst into laughter. Pure, unrestrained laughter, and Namjoon had never heard anything more beautiful in his life.
“His – his face!” Taehyung finally gasped out. “His face was so angry and red and the smoothie was red and –”
Taehyung dissolved into laughter again, holding his sides and Namjoon stood there, his own smile so wide you could probably fit a nickel in his dimples (Jimin had tried once) before they were interrupted by a tired looking employee holding a mop and Namjoon turned to her, guilt flashing across his face.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to cause a mess, let me do that.”
He managed to convince her to let him clean up the spilled smoothie and Taehyung watched as he carefully mopped the floor, drawing his knees to his chest so Namjoon could clean the floor unobstructed. The employee handed him another smoothie when he handed back the mop with another apology, whispering conspiratorially that “it was on the house” and “that asshole totally deserved it.”
He walked back to the table with his new smoothie, meeting Taehyung’s eye tentatively.
“Is it okay if I sit?”
Taehyung nodded.
“So…your hand slipped?”
“Ah,” Namjoon gave a sheepish grin, “sorry about that. I didn’t mean to ruin your date.”
“It was already ruined,” Taehyung said shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have agreed to go out with him, he’s the type to just want a hook up, but he seemed into me and I was feeling bummed…” Taehyung trailed off looking pointedly at Namjoon. “You, um, you never called. And you haven’t showed up to the library since I gave you my number. If...if I was too forward, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you off.”
“That’s not it,” Namjoon said, shaking his head. “I was really sick the past two days. I really wanted to see you, like no joke, seeing you at the library is my favorite part of the day. Ask my roommate, I was literally sulking when last weekend came around because I didn’t get to see you till Monday.”
“Really?” Taehyung asked, hopeful.
Namjoon nodded and Taehyung glanced down, biting his lip.
“So why didn’t you call?”
“I, ah, I may have lost your number.”
Taehyung looked up at that, the side of his mouth quirking up.
“I didn’t mean to!” Namjoon protested. “I know I should’ve put it in my phone right away, but it was so damn cute the way you gave it to me on that little note so I wanted to keep it there and then it must’ve fallen out of my bag or something. And then I got sick that night and I had no way to reach you and I felt like such an idiot but I was puking my guts up for two days so I couldn’t find you, but then I went out to get you a present to make up for it and stopped here and saw you with that asshole who had no idea how lucky he was to even sitting next to you.” Namjoon took a deep breath and reached across the table so he could take Taehyung’s hand who squeaked in surprise and blushed deeply as Namjoon laced their fingers together.
“I really like you, Taehyung. And I’m sorry for making you think I didn’t and I’m sorry for spilling my smoothie on your date’s head and I’m sorry for rambling.”
Taehyung was staring at Namjoon with wide eyes, his cheeks red and his lips slightly parted as he finished his speech.
Namjoon looked back nervously, hoping he hadn’t screwed everything up, when Taehyung suddenly leaned over the table, stopping with his face just inches from Namjoon, so close he could count every eyelash, every freckle, before Taehyung was gently pressing his lips to Namjoon’s, mouths soft against each other as Namjoon kissed him back.
It was a sweet kiss – the type that leaves you warm and slightly buzzing, they type where you could still kind of feel the other person’s lips on your own even after they’ve gone, the type that makes you want to find any excuse to kiss again.
Taehyung was still leaning forward after they parted mouths, eyes sparkling and lips wet and Namjoon could feel his warm breath against his face.
“Taehyung?”
“Hmm?”
“Can I take you out sometime?”
“I thought we’re out right now, hyung.” Taehyung’s voice was edged with mischief.
“Properly, not a date I hijacked. I want to dress up and pick you up and take you out and hold your hand.”
“That sounds lovely.”
Taehyung finally leaned back into his seat, finishing off the last of his smoothie as he got up, sashaying over to the door.
“Text me the details!” he called over his shoulder, shooting Namjoon a wink.
“Wait!” Namjoon scrambled off the seat after him. “I don’t have your number!”