Chapter Text
“Pretty sure he’s a slut,”
“I mean, how else would he have gotten here? He’s a fucking weirdo.”
“That pretty face
must
have helped for sure…”
Jin was just here to get coffee. He blinks. Strides into the break room, which should be called “the kitchen literally nobody cooks in” and whose numerous coffee machines are the only thing people aim for while coming here. That, and gossiping, it seems. Eunwoo wouldn’t strike you as the kind of guy that was into gossiping, you see. He was annoyingly pretty, mild-mannered, and with a string of followers that should be nothing but his coworkers but were found out to be something akin to fanatics sidekicks. Jin had a suspicion about who they were talking about.
Still.
“Who’re you talking about?” he asks, perfectly aware of who , by the way they startle and their uncomfortable shuffle. Someone busies themself with preparing him a coffee, and Jin throws them a charming smile.
Eunwoo shrugs. Opens his mouth, and closes it again, under Seokjin’s frosty gaze. Someone’s feeling brave though. There’s always someone, when the group’s made of more than six persons. “Min, obviously,” Heechul says. Unrepentant. Jin hears a “Oh no you didn’t,” followed by a ridiculous, mocking laugh, and wonders when it has become a norm for men their age to act like kindergartners.
“Just look at him,” another one says before Jin can tell them all off. He’s waving his arm toward the scene too many men are observing instead of, you know, minding their goddamn business. The break room’s vast and opened toward the main room. It had never been a problem, since they all had their individual office, but Jin often wishes it wasn’t in moments like these. Moments where jealous people with too much time on their hand spent it observing other people, and spitting.
Jin looks.
Jin looks, because it’s Yoongi, and he always looks, wherever Yoongi is. Min Yoongi, whose small figure’s standing in front of a sitted Daniel, chatting about something that is none of their business with a pretty smile illuminating his even prettier face. Daniel talks and jokes with everyone. But it’s no hidden fact, that he had been hitting on Yoongi since the day the little guy started working here. Daniel flirts with everyone. But—But his smile’s bigger, his movements clumsier, awkward, whenever Yoongi’s somewhere close to him.
Jin looks. For, Min Yoongi, is kind of a gorgeous person.
“You’re a bunch of jealous pieces of shit,” Hwasa butts in, “except you, Jinnie, you’re a delight and we’re blessed to have you with us.” Taeyeon nods fervently, from wherever she’s come from out of the blue, and proceeds to wave her middle finger at Eunwoo specifically.
“Thank you,” he says readily, cloud not quite driven away from his mind. It appears, and does that, this cloud, mist, hazy appreciation. Yoongi just has to be breathing somewhere close. And suddenly, Jin’s not quite himself anymore.
The totally jealous pieces of shit collectively splutter. “Fucking bitch—”Jin gets his coffee, and pretends not hearing Heechul’s cry of pain when Jin stomps on his toe while going back to the main room. No misogyny will go unpunished in Jin’s presence.
Sooyoung’s part of the angel trio. Jin’s gotten to call them that, because apart from him, they’re the only ones that would tell those men off whenever a bad word was spoken against Yoongi. She nods at him, grateful, and he nods back. Observes the way they huddle together, and as one, spring a surprise tickle attack on Yoongi, who doesn’t have the time to be surprised and dissolve into a pretty, darling puddle of giggles.
They distract him away from Daniel, fiercely protective as always.
And Jin–
Jin observes from afar. Sits in a waiting sofa; and observes, and thinks. About this familiar scene, about this job, about Yoongi, again. The publishing industry isn’t a forgiving one. Jin got in because he had connections, that was true, but he didn’t waste any time proving that he hadn’t gotten his degrees thanks to money. His mind was all his. He didn’t pretend to be some kind of genius, but the intellect that led him there, it was all hard work. No money, no rich heir, just Jin.
The genius bit, though, that was all Yoongi. Yoongi who was a couple of years younger than him, with summer in his eyes whenever it came to writing; stars in his smiles if you got in a discussion with him about it. Strange, strange twenty-four-years-old little man, voice appealing, a bit breathy, lost but not really. Yoongi’s a strange person. But in all the peculiar, adorable way that caught Jin’s interest the first time he saw him. A year ago.
When Jin took his first step down the rabbit hole.
He’s been noticing a lot of things since then. Rainy days weren’t that bad. Since, you know, Yoongi seemed the most thrilled upon this weather dawning on them. Sunny days shine brighter than before. On those, Yoongi pared himself in pastel, flowing clothes that made him question whether the little man was human or not. Sad things weren’t so sad anymore. Because seeing Yoongi made it all better.
Strange, how one’s emotions changed the way they perceived the world.
He’s still watching Yoongi. That’s the only reason why their eyes meet, when—
“KIM SEOKJIN! MIN YOONGI! IN MY OFFICE, NOW.”
—when the loud voice of their boss resonates in the suddenly silent room. Jin, in the middle of taking a sip of his coffee and clearly ogling Yoongi, decides in a sudden spark of wiseness to put the cup down. The other man’s lips, red in memory of the pomegranate juice Yoongi oh so messily drinks, part, but no sounds come out. “Excuse me,” he says, in a sigh, and the girls are quick to reassure him.
“It’s probably nothing,” Sooyoung says, and pets his hair just afterwards. Yoongi doesn’t look convinced.
Jin wouldn’t be convinced either. He’s not too worried, though. Because whatever he’s being convoked in that office for, he’s going with Yoongi. Jin looks at his phone briefly, as to not pass for a creep. He has been looking at Yoongi for quite some time now. But soon enough, he’s standing, walking, and Yoongi joggs a bit to get at his side. His smile’s a bit shy, a lot nervous when he looks at Seokjin. “Hi,” he says.
“Yoongi-yah,” he answers, as always, smile warmer than it has been for anyone today. It’s a daily exchange, sometimes they don’t even speak to each further than that. But Yoongi’s growing, answering smile is always enough to satisfy him.
(It used to be.)
(Seokjin’s grown greedier.)
Upon entering the room, they find the office messy; and their boss, messier. He looks like he’s been run over by a truck. One look at him, and Yoongi’s little smile turn wry. “Is it him again?”
“Don’t look so smug you little shit,” the man says, and Yoongi makes a noise of affront. He looks decidedly less nervous than he did when their names were bellowed loud enough for glass to break.
Seokjin hides his fond grin in favour of pouting at his boss. Exaggerates the gesture just enough for the man to look disgustingly at him, and to make Yoongi giggle. Both happen in a heartbeat. Jin feels warm the way he does when the sun hits his skin in winter. “That’s rude, boss, why did you scream our names like like that? I didn’t know you were...you know…”
“Shut up, gay boy!”
“Which one though?” Yoongi pipes up, tapping both of his indexes fingers together like a walking meme. “Because I also…”
The boss looks even older than before they entered the room. Yoongi, brighter, and Jin cackles inwardly. Sir Daewon, as he loves to be called, pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh. There’s a small, amused smile on his lips. Then it becomes evil. Jin’s suddenly scared. “Hwang Sokyong.”
“It’s a no,” Yoongi says in his most polite tone.
“You don’t have any choice. He wants the both of you on his last novel. Something about only the best editors and best alchemy or some other gimmerish. I personally didn’t understand since both of you are lame—” he completely ignores Jin’s sullen “too kind boss” and Yoongi’s pout. “But he brings the most money in this house so. Here’s the parcel. I also sent you a copy by mail. Get to it, you have…” he pretends to think, but he’s staring at them with pure evil in his eyes. “four weeks.”
“...that really isn’t possible.” Yoongi insists, still painfully polite, even though more often than not he blurts out things matter-of-factly without caring if he’s being too blunt. He’s biting his lips, and Jin wishes it wasn’t so distracting.
He nods in agreement, though, frowning. Because even for him, four weeks to edit a monster novel like only this man know how to write is a stretch.
(He’ll be lying if he said that the idea of spending more time with Yoongi wasn’t making his heart skip a beat. Even if it was for work.)
“We’ll be working from scratch. We wouldn’t even be doing a good enough job for someone like Hwang Sokyong in six weeks. ”
“That is so.” Sir Daewon stares at empty air with a fareway look. Seokjin knows he’s not listening to them anymore. This total sadist. “I’m not expecting much from you two though, just do it yeah?”
“Now that’s just insulting,” Yoongi says, bristling. Quick steps lead him to Daewon’s desk; and he’s snatching the parcel of papers with a fierceness Jin only saw him put in writing. “Please, hyung, let’s do this.” He asks Seokjin, once they’re out of the office. He’s looking pleadingly up at him, stumbling over words, like he has arguments and he’s gotten entangled in the way of speaking them aloud.
As if Seokjin would refuse him anything. He can’t do that. Even if editing a book in four weeks and doing a good job at it is impossible. He can’t say no. Not to Yoongi, who wears oversized clothes and looks so good in them it’s like the trend was made for him and him only. Not to Yoongi, who’s been trying to prove himself since he started working here; to prove that even if he’s the youngest of them all, he can do a just as good job. Jin wants to tell him he’s the best at this. That the way he brings forth and polishes the words given to him is nothing short of beautiful. But Yoongi won’t believe him. And that’s okay, for now.
Jin has four weeks to make him believe.
“Of course Yoongi-yah,” he says instead of all the words that want to escape the confines of his mind. Savors the precious name on his tongue, and the just as precious smile that lights up the man’s face.
Yoongi clutches the parcel on his chest. Slow blink, dusted pink cheeks and pomegranate-stained lips. “Really?”
“Really;” Jin tells him. Hesitates a bit, before tentatively taking the smaller man’s hand in his. It’s a long, slender thing. Snow-white and dainty. A bit like the man himself. It’s...the most contact they had in a year. Yoongi doesn’t say anything for a too long second. And before Jin can let him go, the hand turns in his, coming up slightly to grasp it properly.
He’s biting his lips, but his smile is visible anyway. “Magic,” he mutters. Upon looking down, Jin sees a piece of paper with numbers written on it. And once he looks up, there’s something mischievous in Yoongi’s eyes that hadn’t been here before.
Yes, a little bit mischievous. Uncertain also. But. A bit coy too, and playful. Jin’s obsessed, very man and very dirty mind short-circuits. “I’ll call,” he blurts out.
His hand’s cold when Yoongi drops it, but his heart, it’s warm, as he hears a sweet laugh. Low, breathy, so soft. “Please do, it’ll help, for work.” He backs away, still clutching the parcel. “See you, hyung, and thank you!”
One last bow, and Yoongi’s gone like the wind. Sooyoung and Taeyeon pounce on him like gossip-thirsty hounds, while Hwasa shakes her head in the back.
Jin’s just flustered. Very hot, too, and so so gone for this pretty boy.
Then—
Namjoon-12:05
Can’t wait to see you tonight babe!
Ah.
Ah.