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1. Thirteen
When Yoongi was just thirteen, he hadn’t really thought about relationships an awful lot. They didn’t seem all that important to a thirteen year old who had books to read and computer games to beat, really. It was quite a shock to him, though, to find out that not everybody felt the same.
Yoongi heaved a sigh of relief, dropping his Gameboy to his lap. He had finally, after what felt like years of searching, caught himself a shiny Magikarp, and he was damn proud. It had taken a whole lot of will and determination, but the allure of a red Gyarados had been enough to keep him going. That, and he was incredibly stubborn.
“I did it,” Yoongi said, a wide grin on his face. “I got the shiny Magikarp!”
He turned to his best friend, Hoseok, who was paying remarkably little attention to his own Gameboy. Yoongi frowned. Nothing could usually make Hoseok take his eyes off of his Gameboy. It was unusual to see him, console left in disregard, the game still playing along without him. It seemed Hoseok wasn’t really paying attention to Yoongi, either.
“Seok?” Yoongi tried again, this time poking his friend in the arm. He added a few more pokes and prods to the arm just to be sure, not ceasing in his actions until Hoseok relented and turned his attention back to Yoongi.
“Huh? Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”
“I got a shiny Magikarp. D’you wanna help me name it?”
“You can name it, it’s okay.”
Yoongi frowned. Hoseok loved naming Pokemon, and the opportunity to name a shiny Pokemon was certainly not an opportunity to be sniffed at. Hoseok still wasn’t paying attention, instead staring off at something in the distance. Yoongi cocked his head, following his gaze as best as he could.
The park was huge, so there were a number of things Hoseok could have been looking at in that moment. Maybe he was watching the way that the trees swayed in the wind, or the birds as they swooped and dived across the sky. There was a pretty cute dog chasing a frisbee, so perhaps Hoseok was watching that. He did love dogs, after all. Or maybe it was the-
“That girl keeps looking at you,” Hoseok said.
Ah, a girl. There was a girl sitting on a bench a short while away from them, her head deep in a book. Yoongi recognised her from school- he couldn’t remember her name, though. She was in his math class, but they’d barely spoken. He had let her borrow one of his pencils once.
“Do you like her?” Hoseok asked, elbowing Yoongi in the side.
“I guess so. She’s got a Naruto notebook, so that’s cool.”
Hoseok huffed a laugh. He shook his head, levelling Yoongi with a stare of intrigue. “No, I mean do you like her?”
Oh. Oh. Did Yoongi like her. As in, did Yoongi have a crush on her. Yoongi squinted his eyes, trying his best to think. Did he have a crush on the Naruto girl? He didn’t think so. He didn’t really know her, aside from the fact that she forgot to bring pencils to class sometimes.
“I don’t really know Naruto girl,” Yoongi said simply, picking up his Gameboy to start playing again.
Hoseok grabbed his wrist, halting him in his movement. He was laughing, shoulders shaking as if Yoongi had just said something completely absurd. “Her name’s Sooyoung. Besides, you don’t have to know somebody to have a crush on them, Yoon. You can just, y’know, have a crush.”
“Really?” Yoongi asked.
He couldn’t understand that. How was it at all possible to feel something for someone you didn’t know? That was- that was like sitting next to somebody on the bus and declaring them your best friend. You had to get to know them first, right? What if they didn’t have anything in common with you? It had taken Yoongi at least a month to consider Hoseok his best friend, and that was a pretty exceptional speed in Yoongi’s experience.
“Yeah, like love at first sight and that sort of thing.”
Ah, love at first sight. That thing. He’d heard about that in some of the movies he’d found his parents watching, and some of the dramas he’d caught whilst over at Hoseok’s house. Love at first sight was that time in those movies where two characters looked each other in the eye and the whole world slowed down and smushy music started playing. It was the moment where everything was meant to fall into place, and everything just made sense.
But it didn’t make sense. Maybe it was just because Yoongi was still young, and hadn’t had the slow-motion-smushy-music experience yet. Or maybe that was just something that happened in the movies. Not that Yoongi would know, anyway, he always stuck his tongue out and turned away whenever there was a kiss onscreen.
“I don’t think that’s a real thing,” Yoongi said, puffing his chest out as he made up his mind.
Hoseok looked at him for a second, considering Yoongi quietly. Yoongi shuffled under his stare- Hoseok looked like he was trying to crack some sort of code, his eyes narrowing the longer he stared Yoongi down. Maybe Yoongi had said something wrong. Everyone else seemed to be so sold on this whole ‘love at first sight’ thing, maybe Yoongi should just pretend that he understood it.
Eventually, Hoseok shrugged. “Okay. Hey, did you pick a name for that Magikarp yet? I’ve got some ideas.”
Hoseok went on to list a seemingly endless stream of names for the Magikarp. Yoongi released a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding.
Yoongi didn’t have a crush on Sooyoung. Yoongi wasn’t even sure if he knew what a crush was.
2. Nineteen
Six years later, Yoongi still wasn’t sure if he knew what a crush was.
He was nineteen, and his friends all seemed to have crushes. Youngjae had a crush on a girl in his chemistry class, because she had a nice smile and she always smelled like vanilla. Jiwoo liked a girl from her writing club, because she was tall and made her laugh. Hoseok had a crush on a guy in his geography class, a boy who had a loud laugh and a wide smile.
Yoongi still didn’t think he’d ever had a crush. There were people he thought were cool, people he felt drawn to and wanted to spend more time with, but that didn’t match the way everybody else seemed to describe having a crush.
From his wide research, a ‘crush’ was something that made your stomach flip and your heart race. It was when you looked at someone and they made your stomach burst with fireworks and butterflies fly from your throat. It was something spontaneous and unpredictable, almost synonymous with the ‘love at first sight’ narrative Yoongi found himself so surrounded by.
Yoongi sighed into his homework, letting his pen fall to his paper and sitting his chin in his hands. He frowned, tapping his fingers against the table. Yoongi couldn’t focus on his homework any longer, mind now fogged with these confusing thoughts. He wondered if Hoseok had ever had the same thoughts.
They were sitting in a quaint little cafe with lace tablecloths and patterned curtains. A plethora of plants lined the walls, all pastel flowers with curling leaves hanging from the walls. It was a small cafe, just down the road from where Yoongi and Hoseok lived, and quiet enough for them to spend their time studying. Yoongi liked it. They had a really nice carrot cake.
Hoseok had his homework splayed out haphazardly across the table, his mug of overly-sweet hot chocolate unnervingly close to the papers. Hoseok was somewhat of a chaotic studier, with four books open at once, but it always seemed to work well for him. Yoongi watched, having given up on his own studying when his head had started to hurt. He needed a break.
“What are you thinking so hard about? You’re going to give yourself a headache,” Hoseok said, glancing at Yoongi from the corner of his eye.
“Too late,” Yoongi replied, massaging his temple. “I think I’m gonna get myself another drink. Do you want anything?”
“Mm, no thanks. If I have any more sugary drinks I won’t be able to sleep tonight.”
Yoongi scrunched his nose up. “I don’t know how you stomach that shit.”
“Years of practice and an equally sweet personality,” Hoseok replied with a wink. Yoongi rolled his eyes despite the grin on his face, fondly exasperated by Hoseok’s antics.
“Be right back,” Yoongi said, standing from his seat.
Hoseok nodded, shooting Yoongi a quick thumbs-up before returning his attention back to his homework. Yoongi turned, heading over to the counter to order another drink. There was no queue, now. The cafe was often quiet, anyway, but there was often at least one person ordering. It was late now, though, so the cafe was quieter than usual.
Yoongi walked straight up to the counter, shuffling as he waited for the guy on the other side of the counter to notice him. The guy was reading a book, a cover Yoongi didn’t recognise, his face hidden entirely behind the pages. Yoongi could only make out a head of brown hair over the top of the book. He just knew it wasn’t the same old lady he’d ordered his drink from just an hour before.
“Excuse me?” Yoongi called timidly, feeling bad for disturbing the reader when he was that engrossed. Yoongi wondered how many people actually ordered drinks this late in the evening, or if Yoongi was a rare anomaly, the sole reason for keeping the cafe open at this time.
The guy at the counter peered up over the top of his book. He had big eyes, eyes that crinkled at the sides when he spotted Yoongi. He placed his book down on the counter in front of him, using a sachet of sugar as a make-shift bookmark.
“Sorry, did you want to order?” The guy asked. He stood from his seat, offering Yoongi a warm smile.
Yoongi blinked. The guy was probably around Yoongi’s age, standing probably half-a-head taller than him, shoulders wide underneath his loose fitting shirt. He was handsome, Yoongi could tell that much. He had a nice smile and kind eyes, and looked like the kind of person who would stop to coo at a cat in the street.
Yoongi realised he had waited a little too long to reply when the warm smile was accompanied by a slightly confused frown. Yoongi scratched the back of his neck, glancing up at the menu as if he didn’t already know he was going to order his coffee black.
“Can I get a coffee please? Black.”
The guy behind the counter regarded him for a second. Yoongi shifted a little where he stood; he didn’t know what it was about his choice of coffee, but it really seemed to have thrown the boy. He blinked, looking down between Yoongi and the menu on the counter between them. The menu was simple, but had a good amount of choice. Yoongi knew that Hoseok had tried every single milkshake at least once. Or twice.
“Excuse me?” Yoongi asked, rubbing the back of his neck when it had stayed silent between them for too long.
The boy jumped, as if he’d totally forgotten Yoongi was there. “Sorry, it’s just, uh, I’m not used to people asking for that? Most people ask for- well- not that. We usually add syrups and stuff? It’s kinda our speciality.”
“I like mine just how it is. I like it like that,” Yoongi said, not entirely sure that he did like it like that. He’d only started drinking coffee because he liked the smell. It had tasted bitter and it made his throat itch, but he figured that was normal. He’d sort of made himself get used to it. “I think.”
“Can I ask, have you ever tried any other coffees? I make a mean cappuccino.”
Yoongi stared at the other boy blankly. Of course he’d heard of a cappuccino, but he had absolutely no idea what it actually consisted of. It just looked like a frothy coffee. The froth had always looked like a lot of hassle, if he was being honest.
“A mean cappuccino.” Yoongi repeated slowly.
“Yeah! Oh, I mean I can totally make you a black coffee, it’s no big deal! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep or anything.”
“No, it’s okay,” Yoongi said. “I, uh, yeah, fuck it, why not? As long as there’s caffeine in it, I’m good.”
“You don’t have to try it, it’s really okay.”
“I’d like a mean cappuccino, please. It’s gotta be more exciting than what I usually have. ‘Sides, if I don’t like it, my friend lives off of sugary drinks- I’m sure he wouldn’t mind having the rest.”
The boy behind the counter grinned, nodding before turning to start on Yoongi’s cappuccino. The coffee machine whirred, hot steam billowing from the mug as it filled. Yoongi watched, wary, as the other boy pressed buttons and flipped switches on the machine. It smelled of coffee, but sweeter. Yoongi was so used to the bitterness of coffee that the sweet smell took him aback. It smelled good.
It didn’t take long before the brunet turned back around, coffee mug in hand. He placed it on the counter, beaming from ear to ear. Yoongi couldn’t help but smile back.
“Is that the mean cappuccino?” Yoongi asked.
“The meanest cappuccino in the world,” the boy said. “You won’t find another one this good anywhere.”
Yoongi looked down at the coffee. He couldn’t help the surprised laugh that jumped from his throat when he spotted the drawing in the foam; an extravagant little smiley face with a big grin and a tongue poking out of the side.
“It doesn’t look very mean,” Yoongi remarked, gesturing at the smiley face in the foam.
“Taste it, I wanna see your reaction.”
Yoongi quirked a brow. He tentatively picked up the mug, careful not to shake it too much so as not to ruin the smiley face. It smelled sweet, coffee with the added softness of milk, and a hint of something sugary.
He could feel the other boy watching him eagerly as he lifted the coffee to his lips, the smell getting stronger the closer it came to his mouth. Yoongi decided it smelled better than black coffee. And then it hit his lips.
It was the foam, first, soft and warm against his lips. Yoongi decided in that instant that he much preferred cappuccinos to black coffee. The cappuccino had the same bitterness of his normal coffee, but it was laced with a certain sweetness that Yoongi greatly enjoyed. He hummed, taking another large sip before placing the mug back down on the counter.
“So?” The brunet asked expectantly. “How was it?”
Yoongi grinned. “It was pretty mean. Actually it was really mean. I liked the uh- the sweet shit. That was nice.”
“Mhm, I added syrup. You look like someone who likes your coffee sweet.”
Yoongi wasn’t sure what that meant. He didn’t know what someone who liked their coffee sweet looked like. All he knew was he liked that cappuccino and it made his normal coffee order look like shit. And taste like shit. It turned out Yoongi was someone who liked his coffee sweet.
“How much do I owe you?” Yoongi asked, pointing at the coffee.
“Nothing,” the boy said. “It’s on the house.”
Yoongi blinked. “No way, I can’t-”
“Grandma keeps making jokes that you’re single handedly keeping this place open with the amount of coffee that you drink here. I figure I can let you have one drink for free.”
Yoongi blushed. He did buy a lot of coffee there. Especially when it was nearing exam season. He didn’t realise that it was quite that much coffee though. He fiddled with the piercings in his ear, looking at the boy warily.
“You are joking right?”
The boy shrugged, an amused glint in his eye. “Dunno, that’s why I’m only giving you this one for free. You’ll have to pay for the rest, in case Grandma’s not joking and we really do need you to pay the rent.”
Yoongi chuckled. He decided to believe that the boy was joking- he hoped he was, anyway. He’d continue buying coffee there just in case.
Yoongi picked up the coffee, realising he’d left Hoseok alone for a little too long. Hoseok would only complain if Yoongi took much longer, so he figured he’d better head back quickly. The boy probably wanted to get back to reading his book, anyway, Yoongi was being nothing more than a nuisance.
“What’s your name?” The boy asked.
Yoongi didn’t hesitate to reply. “Min Yoongi. What’s your name?”
The boy beamed, clearly pleased that Yoongi wanted to know his name. “Kim Seokjin. Nice to meet you, Min Yoongi.”
Seokjin held his hand out for Yoongi to shake with a grin still on his face. Yoongi smiled, taking Seokjin’s hand in a firm shake. Seokjin’s fingers were long but slender, warm against Yoongi’s palm. Everything about Seokjin seemed warm. It was nice.
Yoongi and Hoseok stayed at the cafe until Yoongi finished his cappuccino. They’d both given up on their homework by that point, just chatting about things that had happened during their days. Hoseok kept sending Seokjin glances over Yoongi’s shoulder, eyes flickering between him and Yoongi. Seokjin didn’t notice; he’d buried his head immediately back into his book, unaware of his surroundings.
When they left, they both bid their farewells to Seokjin, who waved and made them promise to return. Maybe Seokjin didn’t think Yoongi was a nuisance. Or maybe he just had good customer service. Either way, it put a smile on Yoongi’s face.
That night, Hoseok asked Yoongi if he had a crush on Seokjin. Yoongi said the same thing as always. He didn’t know him. How could he have a crush on someone he didn’t know?
He didn’t have a crush on Seokjin.
Seokjin just felt warm, and Yoongi liked that. Yoongi liked feeling warm.
3. Twenty
Yoongi really hoped he wasn’t single handedly keeping the cafe open with his coffee purchases, because Seokjin had been giving him a damn lot of drinks for free. Yoongi appreciated it, of course, sometimes he only made it to classes through the force of a hazelnut cappuccino alone.
That day was no different. It was a Monday morning and Yoongi had been up late working on a project, he’d probably had about four hours of sleep at the most. He somehow managed to stumble his way to the cafe, as he usually did whenever he had morning classes, rubbing his eyes from the brightness of the sun.
The bell above the door rang as he pushed it open, the sweet smell of syrup flooding his system. He took a deep breath, inhaling the smells and instantly feeling slightly more awake. The cafe was quiet in the mornings, the only customers were the odd elderly couple sitting tucked away by the windows. They always smiled at Yoongi as he walked in. Yoongi figured that was probably a sign that he visited the cafe a little too much.
When Yoongi approached the counter, he was met by Seokjin’s grandma. She smiled at him, the same warm smile that Seokjin wore on a seemingly constant basis, and waved at him to come closer. Yoongi bowed his head in greeting as he stopped in front of the counter.
“Good morning,” Yoongi said, cringing internally when he heard how gruff his voice sounded. He didn’t think he’d spoken since he’d woken up, only offering Hoseok a nod and a smile that probably closer resembled a grimace before leaving their flat that morning.
“Good morning Yoongi,” Seokjin’s grandma replied. She’d come to expect Yoongi’s frequent visits now. The first time she had address Yoongi on a first name basis, Yoongi had almost dropped his coffee all over the floor. “It’s a lovely day today!”
Yoongi supposed it was. It was warm enough for him to wear a thin jacket without feeling cold, the skies were blue, and there were no clouds in sight. Of course, Yoongi only knew that from glancing out of the window now, he’d had his head down on the walk over. The morning sun was always a little too harsh on his half-asleep eyes.
“It’s nice out there,” Yoongi said. “You’ll probably get a lot of people coming in for ice cream today.”
“Oh I certainly hope so. But don’t worry dear, if you come back later I’m sure Seokjin will have saved some butterscotch ice cream for the two of you.”
Seokjin’s grandma made the best ice cream, but it always sold within the hour on a warm summer’s day. Fortunately, Yoongi seemed to have earned some sort of prestigious place as a frequent customer. That meant he was never denied the honour of the Kim family butterscotch ice cream.
“Well, I can’t turn down an offer like that,” Yoongi said, grinning. “Is Seokjin working today?”
Seokjin’s grandma chuckled to herself. She looked at Yoongi for a moment before nodding, a small smile toying on her lips. She hopped down from the stool she had been sitting on, gathering a pile of menus in her arms as she eyes a new group of customers who had just entered the cafe.
“I’ll just call him for you, dear. He’s probably out back sneaking some ice cream.”
Yoongi huffed a laugh. She was probably right. Seokjin had no willpower when it came to ice cream. There had been numerous times where Yoongi had asked for Seokjin, only to find him out back with a bowl full of freshly made ice cream. Seokjin’s grandma always pretended to be mad, but she always let him finish the bowl. She always let him get a second bowl for Yoongi, too.
As it turned out, Seokjin had been sneaking ice cream out back. Yoongi was only waiting for a minute or so before he was met by Seokjin’s presence at the counter, the boy- man, really- standing tall, almost matching the cafe’s decor with his pink sweater. He matched the decor even more with the pink ice cream smeared around his mouth.
“Early class today, right?” Seokjin asked. They didn’t say hello anymore; Seokjin was so used to Yoongi crawling in for his morning coffee that it just became routine. Yoongi didn’t get his morning coffee one day and awoke to ten very distressed messages from Seokjin.
“How can you eat ice cream so early in the morning?” Yoongi asked, leaning up against the counter.
Seokjin frowned. “How did you know I was eating ice cream?”
Yoongi didn’t reply. He only opened the front camera on his phone and handed it to Seokjin. Seokjin squawked, handing Yoongi back his phone before wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve, leaving it slightly pink but at least free of ice cream.
“That’s better,” Yoongi said. “What have you got for me today? It’s gonna be hard to beat the gingerbread coffee from the other day, honestly. That was amazing. I never knew I was a gingerbread kinda guy.”
“Oh you’re such a gingerbread kinda guy. Have you ever thought about trying a hot chocolate? Not to, y’know, inflate my ego too much, but my hot chocolates are the best.”
Yoongi snorted. Seokjin was an incredibly confident man. Yoongi admired that. Seokjin had become more bold the more time they spent together; Yoongi didn’t want to pat himself on the back too much, but it seemed that Seokjin had become more comfortable with him. He had reason to be confident, though. Yoongi had gotten to know Seokjin a little over the past few months, and he couldn’t blame Seokjin for being as confident as he was. He was good at making coffees, of course, but that wasn’t all.
Seokjin was also kind, always laying down a saucer of milk for the stray cats who lived out back. He was smart, attending school alongside his job in the cafe, studying performing arts at the same school as Yoongi and Hoseok. He was funny too- though Yoongi refused to admit that his awful jokes were anything but a nuisance to his life.
And Seokjin could sing. Yoongi had heard him one day whilst walking past the auditorium, and had been unable to resist stopping to listen. Seokjin’s singing voice was strong and warm and smooth like honey. Yoongi had been unable to stop listening- well, until Hoseok dragged him away because he was going to be ridiculously late to class, that is.
Yoongi had never brought it up, though. He’d always been too shy.
He liked Seokjin. Seokjin was always so considerate and welcoming, and always made Yoongi feel- calm. Yoongi always felt calm around Seokjin. But he wasn’t really sure what they were. Yoongi saw Seokjin a lot, since he was constantly visiting the cafe, but he wasn’t sure if they were friends.
Of course, Yoongi wanted for them to be friends, but maybe Seokjin still considered him to be a customer. A customer who he made shitty jokes with and saved butterscotch ice cream for.
“Why not?” Yoongi relented. “I guess I could try a hot chocolate. You are a professional, after all.”
Seokjin winked, turning his back only to start up the machine. Yoongi watched, mesmerised as Seokjin busied himself with all of the different syrups and mixtures. It was almost like watching him concoct some sort of potion, adding bits of this and bits of that with perfect precision.
It didn’t take long before Seokjin turned back around, hot chocolate in hand. He placed it in front of Yoongi, beaming from ear to ear as he always did after handing Yoongi yet another new drink.
This time there was a star drawn on the top with what looked to be some sort of chocolate-y dust, extremely extravagant for something that Yoongi would soon be drinking. Yoongi wasn’t one to complain, though. Seokjin seemed to really enjoy drawing little shapes in every one of Yoongi’s drinks.
“Go on, try it. I can guarantee it’s about as tasty as I am handsome.”
Yoongi quirked a brow, but said nothing, instead lifting the drink to his lips. Seokjin was right, it was incredibly tasty. It was hot chocolate, but with something else- cinnamon, Yoongi thought. It was just the right level of sweet and spice, making Yoongi’s veins buzz with the sudden rush of sugar and sweetness.
“It’s really good,” Yoongi said. “Although there’s so much sugar in it that I’m not gonna be able to sit still in class.”
“It’s a boring class anyway though, right? You’ll need that energy to get you through.”
“That’s probably true. I fell asleep last week.”
Seokjin snorted. “You fell asleep? Oh please tell me you snored.”
“Dunno. Hoseok had to kick me awake though. I’d drooled on my notebook.”
“Well, there’s enough sugar in that to get you through your class, at least.”
Yoongi smiled, taking another sip. As much as he knew his efforts would be fruitless, he still asked nonetheless; “How much is that?”
Seokjin heaved a dramatic sigh, clutching his chest. He shook his head at Yoongi, big eyes crinkling into a bemused smile. “How many times do I have to tell you, Yoongi? It’s fine, don’t worry about it, seriously.”
Yoongi frowned. Why was Seokjin doing this? Yoongi understood the need for good customer service, but this seemed to far exceed that. Yoongi could count the number of drinks that Seokjin had allowed him to pay for on one hand; no matter how much Yoongi insisted, Seokjin always won.
Maybe Yoongi should insist harder, but he just couldn’t. There was something about Seokjin that was just so- so persuasive. Seokjin joked that Yoongi was weak to his good looks, but Yoongi wasn’t quite so sure that was it. Of course, he was very aware that Seokjin was a handsome man, he could recognise that with just a glance. But it wasn’t Seokjin’s looks that made Yoongi give in so easily.
“Why do you give me drinks for free?” Yoongi asked, suddenly.
Seokjin blinked. He cocked his head, plump lips curving in a smile. “Because we’re friends, aren’t we?”
This time it was Yoongi’s turn to blink. Friends. Friends with Seokjin? For some reason that made Yoongi’s skin prickle, a heavy weight settling in his stomach that wasn’t uncomfortable or unwanted. It was just- there. Friends with Seokjin. Was that what they were?
“We’re friends?” Yoongi asked, in an exceptionally ineloquent way. Yoongi had always commended himself on being one with words, but sometimes words escaped him. The problem with being good with words was that, sometimes, there were just too many words fighting to get out.
Seokjin leant over the counter, smelling of hot chocolate and ice cream and warmth. “If you want to be?”
And that’s when it hit like a rock. Yoongi wanted, more than anything, to be friends with Seokjin. Because Seokjin was kind, Seokjin was clever, and Seokjin was funny (but his jokes were shit). And, most importantly, Seokjin made Yoongi feel warm. That was the only way he could describe it.
Yoongi got along with people well, but he would only consider a few people his friends. He liked to get close to people before he felt comfortable with them, and before he even considered thinking of them as his friends. Although Hoseok had become Yoongi’s friend in an instant, but that was just how Hoseok was.
And then there was Seokjin. He couldn’t put his finger on when it happened, exactly, but at some point things had changed. Yoongi didn’t have a crush on Seokjin, but he had something. After a week or so of visiting the cafe- and seeing Seokjin- Yoongi hadn’t been able to stop.
When Yoongi thought of Seokjin, his chest ached. He longed for Seokjin, every fibre of his being always so excited to enter the cafe and see Seokjin’s bright grin and hear his obnoxious laugh. Yoongi wanted to be near Seokjin, wanted to talk to him and totally not laugh at his dumbass jokes and try his coffees.
When Yoongi entered the cafe and saw Seokjin, there was a tugging feeling in Yoongi’s chest. It was almost as if there were a string dragging Yoongi towards Seokjin, the pulling feeling only settling when he was close to Seokjin.
Then, when Seokjin spoke to him, when Seokjin laughed and made jokes, Yoongi felt warm. He felt warm and safe and comfortable whenever he spent time with Seokjin. It made him want more. He wanted to spend more time with Seokjin, he wanted-
“Yeah,” Yoongi said. “Yeah, I’d really like to be friends with you.”
Seokjin clapped his hands. “Good! So I’ll see you back here in a few hours? I’ll save you some of Grandma’s ice cream.”
Yoongi’s stomach flipped. It didn’t flip in an I’ve-got-a-crush-on-Kim-Seokjin sort of way. It flipped because Seokjin wanted to be Yoongi’s friend. Seokjin wanted to be Yoongi’s friend, and Yoongi couldn’t think of much more he wanted at that moment than to be Seokjin’s friend.
Yoongi may not have known what a crush felt like, but he knew it wasn’t this. But that didn’t matter. Because this made him feel happy. And, seeing the wide grin on Seokjin’s face, it was safe to say that Seokjin was pretty happy, too.
4. Twenty two
Things just seemed to move on from there. He and Seokjin started to spend more and more time together, until eventually they were spending time together outside of the cafe. They were going to the movies, visiting arcades, and hanging out at each others’ places. At some point, they made their way into each others’ friendship groups, too.
Seokjin met Jungkook, Hoseok and his boyfriend, Taehyung. Seokjin introduced Yoongi to Namjoon and Jimin, who could definitely challenge Hoseok, Taehyung, and Jungkook for the title of ‘Most Chaotic Friends’. Things just sort of seemed to progress naturally.
As time went on, the ache Yoongi felt to be Seokjin’s friend started to fade. It wasn’t an ache anymore so much as it was a constant warmth bubbling in his stomach whenever Seokjin was near. Hoseok was Yoongi’s best friend, but Seokjin felt like something different. Yoongi just couldn’t put his finger on it.
Seokjin was one of Yoongi’s best friends, of course. But he felt different to Hoseok. The urge Yoongi had felt to be close to Seokjin changed into something else; it was the urge to talk, the urge to make him laugh and the urge to- to hold his hands.
Yoongi was always quick to backtrack whenever that thought crossed his mind, too scared what that might mean. Yoongi had still never had a crush, but there was something inside of him that seemed determined to hold Seokjin’s hands and hug him and- Yoongi never really let his thoughts go any further than that.
“So what’s the deal?” Taehyung asked one night from his position sprawled across Hoseok’s lap. “Have you got a crush on Seokjin?”
Yoongi was all too used to this question by now. It was a question Yoongi wasn’t sure he could ever answer. Because what was a crush, really? Was it having butterflies in your stomach, being unable to talk in front of your crush and buckling at the knees every time they so much as looked at you? That was how everybody made it seem.
But Yoongi didn’t feel that.
When the ache to be close to Seokjin settled, something else took its place. It was almost like a dam had broken, but for Seokjin and Seokjin only. Seokjin was Yoongi’s best friend, and that made Yoongi able to feel something different. It made Yoongi want something more.
Yoongi wasn’t sure how romantic he was. He didn’t think he was a very romantic person at all. But he wanted to be close to Seokjin, in something deeper than just best friends. It wasn’t romantic, but it wasn’t not romantic, either. It was just- closeness.
It was the need to be close whilst being deeper than close. It was the desire to know each other on a deeper level than best friends; it was a strong, undeniable emotion that Yoongi couldn’t explain. But it felt right.
“I don’t know,” Yoongi answered. And for the first time, he didn’t feel like he needed to know what a crush was. He didn’t feel curious about it. Because he knew one thing for certain. “I like him, though.”
Because he did. He liked Seokjin, and that was all he needed to know. Because Seokjin made him feel warm and safe and happy, and he trusted Seokjin. He really, really did.
So maybe Yoongi just let things happen. He sat a little closer to Seokjin when they were together. He messaged him a little more and let himself be a little more open with his feelings. When their hands brushed, Yoongi didn’t pull his hands away, and Seokjin didn’t either. There was something developing between them, something that hadn’t been possible before they’d become so close.
It didn’t feel strange when, one movie night, the pair ended up curled up on the couch together, Seokjin’s arms around Yoongi’s waist and Yoongi’s cheek against Seokjin’s hair. It didn’t feel strange when, after that moment, they cuddled up together and held hands a lot more. They weren’t afraid to touch, or afraid to be close.
It had happened so naturally that Yoongi wasn’t sure quite when it had happened, but it all seemed to have fallen into place. Yoongi couldn’t describe exactly what he was feeling, and a ‘crush’ certainly couldn’t explain the complexity of what he was feeling. But it didn’t need a name. It didn’t need a name, because he felt it, and that’s all that mattered.
Yoongi was laid across Seokjin’s couch, listening to the sounds of Seokjin clattering around in the kitchen. Even when in his own flat Seokjin couldn’t resist making ridiculously extravagant coffees. He had a cupboard full of different syrups; Yoongi didn’t even know where to start whenever Seokjin asked him to make a coffee.
When Seokjin walked back in, he held two coffee mugs, which he placed on the coffee table in front of them. On top Seokjin had drawn something ridiculous; Yoongi’s appeared to be some sort of fish, whilst Seokjin had given himself a crown of sorts. Because of course he had.
“You’re over here for coffee so often, now,” Seokjin remarked, lifting Yoongi’s legs so he could sit down before placing his legs back down across his lap. “Maybe I should finally start charging you for drinks.”
Yoongi grinned, “Oh? I thought we were friends, though?”
Seokjin rested his hand on top of Yoongi’s, lacing their fingers together. His voice was soft when he spoke next, a gentle smile on his lips as he looked at Yoongi.
“Yeah, we are.”
Seokjin shuffled around on the sofa, fitting himself close to Yoongi as he curled himself around his body. Yoongi smiled, threading his fingers through Seokjin’s hair as they laid there together, both comfortable as they sunk into the couch.
Seokjin felt warm. Seokjin made Yoongi feel warm.
And Yoongi really, really liked that.