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At 6:17 pm Jeongguk is pacing his apartment and stimming and humming one low, continuous note in the back of his throat. It’s pretty much the same thing he does every day at this hour. What he doesn’t usually do, however, is drop his AAC machine on the tiled floor of his kitchen when he goes to move it from the counter and watch the screen shatter to pieces. Whoops. He’s in that floaty post-meltdown state that makes his hands shaky and actions uncoordinated so it’s of no surprise, really. But how is he going to get anyone over to fix it? It’s not like he can call someone, and even if he does get a technician over at this time of day he no longer has a sure way of communicating the need to get it fixed.
He picks the pieces of glass off the floor and places them in a pile on the marble countertop, and sits down on one of the bar chairs. Then he spins and spins and spins in circles until he’s so dizzy he can no longer think straight, one hand pressed awkwardly against the side of his head. His phone buzzes and he takes wobbly steps over to the sofa to retrieve it.
'I just heard a crash from your room is everything okay?' It’s from Taehyung who lives in the apartment directly underneath his and had almost certainly heard him drop the AAC machine.
'Um yeah not really I just dropped my aac machine and the screen is shattered and it wont turn back on'. Taehyung is knocking on the door of his apartment before Jeongguk even has the time to put his phone down.
“Is it, like, completely broken? Unfixable? Kaput?”
Jeongguk shrugs, then nods.
“Well then. I’m gonna call a technician for you, ‘kay?” Taehyung says, already typing a number into his phone.
Jeongguk nods again in lieu of saying ‘thanks’.
The technician turns up at his door ten or so minutes later, a large bag over his shoulder. Taehyung steps out as soon as he arrives, waving and wishing him good luck.
“I’ve got a date with Jiminie, sorry Kook. See ya!”
Then it’s just clumsy, non-verbal Jungkook and the technician standing in the doorway together in an awkward silence. Honestly, when Taehyung had said technician this is not what he’d expected. This man is beautiful, all soft blonde hair and almond eyes and dimples. He’s tall too, has maybe three or four inches on Jungkook.
“Hello,” he says, “Taehyung told me you broke something? I’m Namjoon, by the way, Taehyung’s friend.”
Jungkook stares at the floor and nods. The technician may be the most magnificent human being he’s ever lay eyes on, but he’s basically a stranger even though he knows Taehyung and Jungkook really really doesn’t like strangers. Still, he walks into the kitchen on shaky legs and gestures to the broken AAC machine on the countertop.
“Oh, that should be pretty simple to fix.” the technician, Namjoon, says, picking it up to observe. He reaches into his bag and pulls out a tape measure, holding it up to each side of the screen. Then he replaces the broken glass with a new, non-cracked piece and turns it around to unscrew the back, leaning in to look closely at the wires and welds and-- oh. He pokes his tongue out when he’s concentrating. Jungkook is sort of smitten.
He takes a seat on one of the barstools and watches patiently as Namjoon plugs a soldering iron into the powerpoint on the wall, and slides a pair of thick glasses onto the bridge of his nose.
“Only one weld needs redoing.” he says, probably to himself. Jungkook tugs the sleeves of his pastel blue hoodie over his hands, and brings them up to his face. The material is soft against his cheeks and smells of lavender. A happy sound bubbles up in his throat and much to his delight, Namjoon doesn’t bat an eyelid.
They sit in a companionable silence as Namjoon finishes fixing the machine, then Jungkook yawns and checks the clock and groans. It’s not even seven o’clock yet and he’s already exhausted.
“There, it’s done.” Namjoon says eventually, closing the zipper on his bag. Jungkook picks the machine up and turns it on, opens a blank page and writes ‘thank you’ in wobbly letters. Namjoon smiles.
“You’re welcome.”
‘How much will that be?’ he writes quickly, holding it up. Namjoon seems surprised.
“Nothing.” he lies, “You don’t have to pay me.”
Jungkook decides not to question that.
“Here.” Namjoon says just as he walks out the door, holding out a small, folded piece of paper. Jungkook takes it and unfolds it slowly, a blush rising to his cheeks as he reads the series of numbers. “No pressure though, just… yeah. See you.”
Then he’s walking back down the hallway and waving and Jungkook watches him with heart eyes.
His hands flap uncontrollably as he skips back through into the living room, Namjoon’s number tucked safely into his hoodie pocket.
“So, was Joonie good?” Taehyung asks when he’s returned from his date and it’s a quarter to ten and they’ve just finished dinner. He’s reclined on Jungkook’s sofa, two blankets over his legs. Jungkook is curled up on a pile of cushions on the floor at his feet.
Jungkook hums in affirmation, face squished into a fluffy pale purple pillow.
“That’s great.” then, “He’s pretty good looking, huh?” Taehyung says, almost like an afterthought. Jungkook makes an embarrassing squeaky noise in the back of his throat.
__________
He texts Namjoon the next morning.
You:
Hello
This is Jungkook
You gave me your number yesterday c:
Namjoon-hyung <3:
Hey!
Nice to meet you, Jungkook
Are you available for lunch today?
Jungkook swears his heart skips a beat at that.
You:
Yes!
Namjoon-hyung <3:
You know the cafe down by the uni?
I think it’s called Serendipity
Serendipity is the cafe Seokjin owns. It’s got dim, yellowy-orange lights that don’t hurt Jungkook’s eyes and quiet lo-fi music that doesn’t make his ears ring, and even a sensory room at the back with lavender scented air freshener and piles of blankets and pillows and padded walls.
It’s probably one of Jungkook’s favourite places to be, ever, in the entire universe.
You:
I do! I love that cafe :D
Namjoon-hyung <3:
That’s great
I’ll pick you up at 11 then?
Jungkook has absolutely no problem with that.