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The warm summer sun was cut through by the autumn breeze as the two seasons collided, the September morning dew slick on the grass as you walked by the soccer field by your apartment block to catch the bus to campus. It was a little past eight, and you were heading to your first lecture of the new year - of course, it had to be a nine AM. The professor in your fine art class didn’t like to dawdle, and consistent with your freshman year, had placed every lecture into the earliest slot available on your timetable.
Yawning into the palm of your hand, you cursed yourself inwardly for not getting coffee before you left, praying that the rush hour traffic would be forgiving enough for you to grab a Starbucks on the way to class. If you hadn’t been up late binging a few episodes of the latest drama you were obsessed with, perhaps you’d have gone to sleep at a reasonable time instead of past two AM. The bus stop wasn’t too crowded; two old ladies and a fellow college kid were your only companions, and your stop being fairly early on the bus route meant you were likely to get a seat. Or at least a decent spot to stand.
As the bus rolled up, you sighed as your hopes were dashed, the bus packed with people and almost every seat filled. The two ladies snatched the only seats left, and you were forced to stand, diving into your bag for your earphones before you groaned inwardly. Of course, you’d forgotten them. Thankfully, the bus route wasn’t too long, and you hoped nobody tried to engage you in conversation before your morning coffee. It was very important that you consumed caffeine before speaking to anyone - you didn’t come across as a nice person without it.
Lurching in your spot as the bus chugged forwards, you just focussed on the window, watching the early morning hustle and bustle pass you by. Once more people gathered on the bus, you shuffled forwards slightly, your hand wrapping around one of the bars before you realised, and you frowned, grimacing as you tried to locate a disinfectant wipe from your bag. The presence of someone behind you barely caught your attention before you were startled, and then disappointed, by a voice at your ear.
“Good morning, Y/N,”
Of course, the one morning where you were sleep deprived and without coffee in your system was the morning Jung Hoseok had to stand behind you on the bus. As if having him in your minor philosophy class wasn’t enough torture.
“Don’t speak to me, or look at me,” You hissed, ripping out one of the wipes and cleaning the bar and your hand. Over your shoulder, you shot Hoseok a glare, noting with shock and disappointment that he had changed over summer. He’d gotten hotter, in fact. You glared harder. “In fact, since it's you. Don’t even perceive me. Pretend I don’t exist,”
“As much as I would love that,” Hoseok replied, his voice the same as usual, laughter constantly caught in his throat. You weren’t looking at him, but you could hear the grin in his voice, the pretty lopsided one you remembered from your first college party. You frowned at the window. “I can’t ignore you, your ass is pressed to my dick,”
You jumped forward, your hipbone hitting another bar and you winced. Shuffling forwards, you tried to put as much space between you and the bane of your existence as possible. The bus journey continued, shuddering along at a pace that did little to improve your mood as you were stuck in your own personal hell. The morning traffic was significantly more brutal this morning, and that paired with the fact you didn’t have music to drown out your surroundings just made you more angry at the world. Hoseok’s presence had a fury building within you, partly because he was so damn close to invading your space, and second - well, he smelled really good. It was kinda hard for you to stop inhaling the air just to get another whiff of his cologne, and then another. You were essentially breathing solely to catch his scent, and you white knuckled the bar you steadied yourself with, frowning at your reflection.
The bus paused at another stop, and you wanted to cry when you realised how far away you were from campus. You could kiss catching your lecture on time goodbye, as well as your opportunity for some coffee. As more people piled onto the bus, you were soon pretty much caged against the window by Hoseok’s body; his stupid, nice smelling body.
The journey continued, far too slow, and you wondered if perhaps you were in the middle of a nightmare. Maybe you could close your eyes, and wake up back in your apartment.
“Falling asleep?” You jolted, body melting against the glass to find some space from Hoseok’s intrusion, “You can lay your head on me if you want,”
“Please, go to hell,”
He was silent for no more than a second, and for you, it was far too short a timeframe, “You’re almost cute when you’re cranky,” He had that twinkle in his voice again, as if he was in on some joke with you or something, “Did someone not get enough sleep last night? Dreaming of me?”
“That's exactly right,” You threw over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of just how full the bus had gotten. Surely no more people would be allowed to get on - you would end up practically smushed against Hoseok, more than you already were. You glared up at him again, “Nightmares. You were there, I kept waking up in a cold sweat,”
“I bet,” He hiccuped on a laugh, and you rolled your eyes. Turning back to the window, you took a deep calming breath, mentally convincing yourself that spending life in prison was not worth it.
Time dragged by slowly, and inch by inch, Hoseok’s body was pressed against yours. For a while, you decided not to draw attention to it - it was plainly obvious he was doing it to get to you, and you had already given him far more acknowledgement than he deserved. It was only when he let out an exaggerated sigh, his hand coming to rest on the bar you were currently holding onto, effectively caging you against the window, when you spoke up.
“What are you doing?”
“I can’t help it,” He murmured, but when you turned to look at him, there was a sparkle in his eye. He was enjoying this.
You attempted to put space between your bodies, but it was useless, and before long you felt oddly warm and shaky, your skin tingling wherever it was pressed against Hoseok. You shivered, and you saw a flash of a smile in Hoseok’s reflection. Instantly, you blushed.
“Move away from me, you ass,”
“I can’t,” He replied, but you could practically hear him laughing under his breath, “Why, are you getting shy?”
Whipping round to face him, a momentary look of shock brushed over his features before his gaze was schooled back into mischief, “Of course I’m not getting shy. Because of you? Please, did you hit your head on the railing or something?”
“You are,” His smile grew wider, and you only grew more annoyed with him for some reason, “you’re blushing,”
“Shut up,”
“Am I making you nervous?” He made a point then of dipping his head so his mouth almost brushed your ear, and you flinched. This only made him chuckle, the deep sound of his voice so close to your face making your heart skip in your chest.
“I think you mean nauseous,” There was a slight shake to your voice, and you hated it. The airiness making you sound as if Hoseok was right; but he wasn’t, of course. Jung Hoseok didn’t make you nervous. He didn’t make you feel anything other than disdain.
Hoseok hummed, your eyes darting to look at him once again, suddenly interested in the curl of his hair over his forehead, and the shiny tip of his nose. It would be so much better if he wasn’t attractive, you thought to yourself. His personality sure made it easy to hate him - or at least, it had, ever since that awful party where you’d first had the displeasure of meeting him.
If he hadn’t been such a dumbass, perhaps you could have been friends. Your eyes did a quick flick down to his mouth while he wasn’t looking, and now that the two of you were almost chest to chest, you were rewarded - or, tortured - with the full view of him.
He’d certainly gotten better looking since freshman year - his jaw was sharper, his shoulders somehow broader, and he’d grown out his hair and added soft blonde highlights. He was so much nicer to look at when he wasn’t speaking.
The bus lurched suddenly, the loud hiss of the breaks and the screech of the tires causing your anxiety to skyrocket when paired with the gasps of the other passengers on board. You were jolted backwards, your head hitting the window with a thud, and you winced, a sharp sting in the back of your skull causing you to hiss out in pain. When the bus stopped, you overheard the bus driver shouting expletives at someone else on the road, though it was almost drowned out by the sound of Hoseok speaking to you.
“Hey, you okay?” His voice was the softest you had ever heard him speak, barely above a whisper, though it was laden with what seemed like genuine concern. It was only when you raised your head to look at him and nod when you realised his hand was cupping the back of your head. The two of you were so close now that his breath fell against your cheeks, and you blinked up at him, suddenly without words. All hopes of a witty comeback were quickly lost, until he spoke again, “Wow, have we finally managed to get you to shut up?”
Dazed look instantly washed away by a frown, you shoved at Hoseok’s chest as he laughed, the sound rumbling against your palms as his hand fell away from your head. You were mad at him for ruining the moment - whatever moment you were referring to was something you would later push to the back of your head and ignore. With a strong wave of relief, you realised that the bus had now stopped at the campus, and students streamed onwards towards the door. You gave Hoseok one last glare, pushing past him, completely unaware at the rare, gentle smile he sent your way before he followed you off the bus.