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Seokjin isn’t too sure what the Liberal Humanist movement is, but he knows that if he tries to read about it any longer, he’ll go insane.
“Namjoon,” he whines, setting his book down and turning to face the white-haired boy, “do my English homework for me.”
“Do it yourself, hyung,” Namjoon replies without missing a beat, pushing his glasses a little further up his nose. He’s engrossed in his laptop, trying to finish his essay before he has to head to his next class. They’re on school grounds, sitting on the grass, and leaning against the wall of the music building. Namjoon has class in fifteen minutes, but Seokjin’s last class for the day had been canceled, and the older one had decided to visit his boyfriend at his super-secret study spot.
“But Namjoon,” Seokjin tries again, knowing exactly what sort of pleading tone to use to get his way. He’s done this too many times, really, and he wonders how Namjoon hasn’t figured out by now that he’s completely wrapped around Seokjin’s finger.
Namjoon shoots Seokjin an exasperated look and scoots closer, leaning his head against Seokjin’s as he quickly scans over the excerpts Seokjin’s been assigned to read. It’s at times like these that Seokjin really, really appreciates having the school’s top student as his boyfriend.
Namjoon explains it to him, but Seokjin gets lost somewhere between “moral-based critiques” and “predecessor to New Criticism,” and instead decides to focus on the deep timbre of Namjoon’s voice, the pleasant heat of his hand as Seokjin reaches over and slots their fingers together.
“Are you even listening to me?” Namjoon’s voice is filled with a fond sort of annoyance, but he doesn’t let go of Seokjin’s hand. The older boy grins sheepishly and pecks Namjoon’s cheek, knowing that Namjoon isn’t really upset with him.
“You know I always listen to you, Namjoonie,” Seokjin coos, and watches in satisfaction as Namjoon’s ears tinge pink.
“I don’t even know why you’re taking Advanced Literary Techniques when you hate English,” replies Namjoon, absently curling his arm around Seokjin’s waist and tugging him against his side. Seokjin beams at the closeness and shuts his book, biting his lip in apology when Namjoon hisses and pulls his fingers away just a little too slowly to avoid being hit by the heavy pages.
He takes Namjoon’s hand and raises it to his lips, kissing the tips of his fingers before setting it back down, and Namjoon regards him with a look that’s half are you kidding me and half I love you. Seokjin merely smiles in response and goes back to holding Namjoon’s hand, running the pad of his thumb over Namjoon’s knuckles.
“I took it because I just needed one more English credit to graduate,” Seokjin explains, burying his nose into Namjoon’s shoulder. He’s pretty sure than Namjoon is wearing one of his sweaters actually, but he knows that at this point he’s left so many shirts and sweaters at Namjoon’s house it’s probably more his own fault than Namjoon’s.
“Also,” Seokjin points out, his voice muffled by the thick wool, “I was hoping that my very-good-at-English boyfriend would be more helpful.”
“I’m really not that good, you know that,” Namjoon corrects him, but he folds down his laptop screen and sets his work aside, and Seokjin’s lips curl up secretively in the knowledge that he’s won. Won what, he’s not exactly sure, but he knows he’s once again managed to successfully derail his boyfriend when Namjoon pulls Seokjin away from his shoulder and against his chest.
Seokjin sighs in contentment and shuts his eyes, hearing the telltale sounds of Namjoon leafing through his English textbook with the hand that’s not occupied with rubbing slow circles into Seokjin’s side.
“Don’t you have class in ten minutes?”
Seokjin internally warns himself not to get too comfortable. If he falls asleep, he knows Namjoon won’t have the heart to move him, and he doesn’t want to be responsible for Namjoon missing class and falling behind on his coursework.
“Nah,” Namjoon shakes his head, resting his chin on Seokjin’s head, an action that doesn’t annoy Seokjin as much as it normally might.
“I have more important things than class.”