Chapter Text
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min yoongi meets jeon jungkook on his way home from work.
not really work—he's just volunteering at an animal shelter. he's not complaining, though—it's fun, he can convince himself it's exercise and ignore the fact that his health is entering a very steep downwards spiral, and also the cats really love the shiny silver decals on his leather jacket; so all in all, his bi-weekly hour-long visits to the animal shelter are a wholesome experience, would recommend. namjoon and hoseok give him endless shit for it, but they're all required to complete at least fifty hours of volunteering before they graduate high school in, like, a few months—and namjoon and hoseok have completed, oh, maybe 3.3 hours each. so really, yoongi is fine with it.
(yoongi may have immediately run in and signed up to volunteer at the animal shelter once when he walked by on his way to the coffee shop and saw these precious little puppies on sale in the front window, but that's nobody's business. especially not holly's—yoongi's dog is the light of his life, but he's also a jealous little bitch, so.)
it's not like yoongi can just yell out his job to the whole world—he's got a reputation to uphold, dammit—but he knows a few people from school have spotted him in the shelter's front window playing with the puppies once, and even more people have seen him with a suspicious amount of animal fur all over his leather jacket. but people know better than to question him. the rumours are plentiful and sometimes so wild, they're almost ridiculous—yoongi did not jump out of a moving train once to escape from an enemy gang, thank you very much, the sprained ankle he had that week was from when holly's bitchass decided to make yoongi run over a particularly gnarly tree root on their daily walk together—and while it doesn't bode well with making new friends, it's actually pretty nice. yoongi's not particularly fond of human interaction—animals are so much better—and with all the rumours circulating, people usually ignore him or walk the other way with just one halfhearted glare.
granted, things could definitely be better, but yoongi's living the good life. he really is.
but then, he meets jeon jungkook, and shit hits the fan.
yoongi meets jungkook when he's on the way back from one particularly grueling volunteer session—three of the kittens' claws have finally gotten big enough to hurt, and the little felines were definitely in a bad mood. they tag-teamed him, goddamnit. by the time he's walking home, yoongi's grey hair is tousled ("it's a statement about how you're a sixty year old grandpa trapped inside a little boy's body," hoseok had snarked; yoongi hit him upside the head for his insolence), his signature black leather jacket is doused in a good amount of fur, and he's somehow gotten even more rips in his jeans than before. he's pretty sure his entire thigh is now visible through the worn denim, which sucks because yoongi's really fucking pale and always wears long sleeves, so anything above his wrists and below his neck looks like really flaky printer paper. or a starving child from the 1800s who won't make it through the winter. whatever.
long story short, yoongi is a mess, and all he wants to do is go home and get some fucking coffee so he can maybe listen to some music and then watch some k-dramas—
he suddenly hits a wall.
yoongi was walking at a brisk pace—he wants to go home, goddamnit—so when he hits the wall, he flies backwards. like, flies flies. the only thing going through yoongi's head as he falls like one of those schoolgirls in the fucking animes is "what the fuck—"
and then he hits the ground. the wind is immediately knocked out of him, and while he's trying to regain his breath, he's pretty sure the entire world is shaking back and forth in his wobbly vision just to fuck with him. he can see cat hair floating all around him like a fucking aura of dumbassery, thrown into the air by the impact of yoongi's body against the ground.
"oh my god, are you okay—"
yoongi hears a voice, but for some reason, it sounds faraway and murky, like he's underwater. weird. he blinks a few times and does a mental check of his limbs, wiggling his fingers and toes one by one until he's sure he hasn't snapped his spine in half. suddenly, a face appears close in front of him, blocking out the waning sunlight from the corner of yoongi's eyes. the only thing yoongi can pull out of his dazed mind is oh my god, this is how i die. i have cat fur all over me, i just ran into a fucking wall, and i'm about to get mugged. this is the fucking end.
please, my last deed was volunteering for a fucking animal shelter, put me in heaven, goddamnit.
it seems like yoongi's wish is granted, because once he registers the face in front of him, he realizes that this boy is probably an angel.
he has smooth, silky-looking black hair hanging down over his face, and if yoongi wasn't physically and mentally impaired at the moment, he would want to reach out and touch it. the next thing yoongi notices are the boy's eyes—they're huge, and behind the boy's glasses, they look as big as the moon, and they sparkle twice as much. yoongi can see two big front teeth poking out above the boy's big bottom lip, and yoongi thinks it's quite possibly the most adorable thing he's ever seen in his life.
"—did i kill you? oh my god, i can't go to jail, i'm just a kid, i'll die in there—"
yoongi finally realizes the boy's lips are moving. at an alarming rate.
he's talking. to yoongi.
oh.
yoongi tries to shake his head, but he can't move his neck quite yet. he opens his mouth slowly and tries to speak, but no sound comes out. he tries again a second time. "i'm fine," he finally croaks out.
the boy's eyes widen, and he lets out a huge sigh of relief as he sits back on his bottom. yoongi's slightly disappointed that the boy's face has left his view—all he can see is a tuft of black hair—but then the boy comes right back. "wait, please don't sue me, i'm broke, i don't have enough money for that—"
yoongi doesn't know if he has the breath to speak again, but he tries anyway. "not gonna sue you," he finally says in his gravelly voice, and for a split second, the boy looks almost scared of him.
yoongi can finally move his neck, so he slowly looks around, not ready to sit up just yet. "what wall did i even run into?" he whispers to himself, only seeing a sidewalk, a street, and a few brick buildings more than ten feet away from him. there's no wall.
the boy, now in yoongi's peripheral vision, hangs his head and laughs sheepishly. "uh, yeah," he says in a lilting voice yoongi decides is much prettier when he's not screaming in panic. "you bumped into... me. my chest. i kind of... sent you flying."
yoongi musters up enough energy to turn back towards the boy (he's now blushing, which, yoongi will admit, is really fucking adorable) and raise an incredulous eyebrow. "wait, kid, seriously?" yoongi groans and lifts his hand to his forehead. "that was your fucking chest? no offense, but your face looks like... ugh, nevermind. jesus christ, kid, i think your chest gave me a concussion—"
"i'm so so sorry!" the boy blurts out, cutting yoongi off. "i would pay for you to get checked out by a doctor, but i'm, like, super broke and about 20 dollars is the max that i can actually spend on anything at this moment in time, and i'm really sorry, i really understand that you're mad, but, like, i'm really sensitive, so if i start crying just don't mind it—"
"wait, wait, wait, please don't cry," yoongi interrupts, finally finding the strength to sit up and look at the boy straight in the face. he looks even prettier now, but yoongi decides this really isn't the time for a gay panic, so he pushes it down. "'m not mad. 's not your fault, 's okay," yoongi breathes quickly, hints of his daegu accent slurring his speech together. "really, you don't have to pay for anything. feel fine. 's fine." but then yoongi collapses again, his head and neck saved by the boy's hands from slamming into the concrete. so maybe he was wrong about him being fine.
the boy looks so close to crying, and yoongi is going into an actual panic—he can't make a kid cry—so he quickly asks the boy to help him stand up. the boy, hanging on to his every word at this point, nods quickly and hoists yoongi up like a sack of grain—jesus christ, yoongi's already impaired brain blurts—over his shoulders and onto his back. suddenly, yoongi's arms are loose around the boy's shoulders and his thighs are being held in his warm hands, which he can feel brushing against his bare skin. he pushes down the urge to shiver.
it takes yoongi a second to realize the boy is talking—that bicep is bigger my head, yoongi's brain supplies unhelpfully—and yoongi finally tunes in to whatever the other boy is saying. "i can't pay for anything," the boy babbles, "but since i knocked you over, i figure the least i can do is carry you where you need to go—i mean, you were walking, so it can't be too far, and you're light, and sorry, this is really embarrassing—"
yoongi laughs lightly, his deep and soft chuckle right next to the other boy's ear. "thank you," he says, "i'd appreciate it. i don't know if i can walk right now, so."
the boy nods vigorously, but all yoongi can focus on is the movement of the smooth tan skin on his neck. "uh, yeah. of course. just—give me directions, please—my name's jungkook, by the way—"
"nice to meet you jungkook," yoongi responds. "although it may have been nicer under other circumstances. i'm yoongi."
jungkook giggles at that, and yoongi can't help the smile that comes to his face from hearing jungkook giggle. "nice to meet you too, yoongi. and i'm really sorry about the whole incapacitating you thing, i really didn't mean for it to happen—"
"it's fine," yoongi interrupts. "really. i'm fine. my fingers still work, i probably hit my head, but it's not like i've got much in there anyway."
jungkook's now full on laughing with yoongi bouncing lightly on his back as he walks. the rest of the twenty minute walk passes in a comfortable conversation—yoongi learns that jungkook is two years younger than him—a sophomore at yoongi's high school, which they both talk about while yoongi tries not to die from overload. apparently, jungkook does, in fact, work out a lot, and he loves singing, painting, sports, k-dramas, and anime. especially anime. he also learns that jungkook is a really big fucking anime nerd, which should be annoying, but for some reason, yoongi finds it adorable. when yoongi learns that jungkook isn't the most popular in school, he almost flips his shit. "i have my own friends, really, it's fine," jungkook says, and yoongi calms down after that, but an invitation to sit with him and his group at lunch stays on the tip of his tongue for a long time. in turn, yoongi shares about his animal shelter escapades (jungkook is also surprised that yoongi works in an animal shelter; "you don't look the type," he says), his plan to become a producer when he gets his degree, and his dog, holly, who's probably going to whine at him when he gets home like a fucking asshole. soon (too soon), they've arrived at yoongi's apartment. he climbs slowly off of jungkook's back and once again thanks jungkook for the ride.
"hey, uh, yoongi-ssi—"
"just hyung," yoongi cuts him off. "please, just hyung is fine. yoongi-ssi makes me feel so old." jungkook grins, and it's contagious—yoongi finds himself smiling only seconds after.
"uhm, do you want to—i don't know—exchange numbers? so, you know, we can, like, communicate about how i can—pay you back or whatever—"
"i already told you, carrying me back was more than enough, i'm fine," yoongi responds quickly.
"o—oh." jungkook looks slightly dejected for a moment, but covers it up with a smile.
yoongi grins slyly. "but i mean, if you really want to pay me back... i could use a coffee sometime."
jungkook's face immediately lights up, and he fumbles with his phone for a little bit before passing it to yoongi. he types in his phone number and a "min yoongi" in the name section, smiling as he hands it back to jungkook. the boy gives him a bashful grin, a blush lighting up his cheeks, and yoongi almost melts into the concrete. then, jungkook looks down at the name, and he looks... confused. his eyebrows furrow, and then his eyes suddenly widen—
"min yoongi?"
yoongi furrows his brow. "yeah... that's me?" he laughs lightly.
"wait, no way, you're... the min yoongi?"
ah.
of course.
yoongi scratches the back of his head. "yeah, i'm the min yoongi. heard a lot about me, have you?"
jungkook looks mystified. "i'm pretty sure most of the rumours are false, but you're, like, literally everything everyone talks about, and i've never seen you in real life, but—wow, i can't believe the min yoongi, rumoured to own three different guns, volunteers at the animal shelter every weekend." yoongi has to blush at that, and jungkook giggles.
"wow. min yoongi. in the flesh. i never thought i'd see the day, but—wow. you're... nothing like the rumours." jungkook shakes his head, and yoongi laughs as jungkook continues. "you're so... soft."
yoongi grins giddily through his blush—he feels like a fucking schoolgirl—and looks off into the fading light, realizing it's almost sunset. jungkook seems to realize too, because he looks around quickly and pulls out his phone to call someone, yoongi presumes. yoongi bites his lip, hesitating, before he steps towards jungkook. "hey—if you don't have to leave right away—d'you wanna come up and meet holly? he likes visitors," yoongi says, trailing off at the end. oh my god, this was such a bad idea—
but yoongi can't bring himself to care when the most brilliant grin forms on jungkook's face.
"sure, hyung," he says, and yoongi smiles as he turns around to unlock the door.
(holly loves jungkook—maybe even more than he loves yoongi, the little brat. but honestly, yoongi can't blame him.
jungkook stays over that night. yoongi hopes he'll stay for many more.)
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