Chapter Text
Yoongi wishes the young couple on the left wouldn’t chat so terribly loud, then he might be able to hear the soft, tender voice of Seokjin by the counter. He sighs, rubbing his chin, then pulls on his beanie. He taps the floor with his white cane in mild annoyance, when he senses a lovely presence approaching him and sliding in the chair opposite to his.
“I thought you were busy.” It comes out more as a question then intended and Seokjin laughs. His laughter is wonderful too, charming and captivating.
“No, not really. Not at the moment at least.” He answers and from the rustling of his sweater and apron, Yoongi can hear that he is reaching for his cup and waits for the sound of gulp and a satisfied sigh.
“That’s mine.” He states and would he be on the romantic side, he might get excited about the indirect kiss that was shared between them. However, Yoongi is highly practical and he only wonders whether it wasn’t too bitter for Seokjin’s taste, who normally only ever drinks tea.
“Yeah, I know, I made it.” Seokjin retorts and there is the sound of him taking another sip. “So…”
“So?” Yoongi raises an eyebrow, feigning ignorance. Is it that Seokjin guessed why he came here?
“So, where is your new song, I want to hear it.” Seokjin deadpans and before any more words could be exchanged between them, someone is calling the bartender. “Damn, who comes to a café at this hour? We’ll close in what, thirty minutes? Be back in a sec, don’t you move until then.”
“Wouldn’t dare to.” Yoongi swats away the finger which pokes at his cheek, feeling the spot warm up. Seokjin’s hand is really soft, he reckons, musing whether his face, his lips in particular, bear the same kind of softness and that certain foreign feeling which he has been experiencing the last few days strikes him again. It’s not unpleasant in the least, quite the contrary and Yoongi feels like smiling despite his nervousness. He hasn’t felt like this in a good while. He also hasn’t asked out anyone in ages.
“I’m back. Now, show me!” Seokjin demands and Yoongi obligingly rummages through his backpack.
“It’s just a demo, but…” Seokjin snatches his iPod away from him, before he can finish and Yoongi merely sighs in a resigned manner. The bartender stays quiet for several minutes, he listens to the track and Yoongi is just the tiniest bit fidgety, as he waits for his response. This time he composed a love song, a sweet and mellow thing, completely different from his usual ones.
“My god, this is beautiful!” Seokjin exclaims finally and Yoongi lets out an audible sigh.
“Well my artist name is Suga, but god is fine too.” He replies with a smug grin and earns a kick on his shin.
“Stupid.” There is a smile in Seokjin’s voice, he can sense it. He never touched his face, so he doesn’t know what his lips are like when they are stretched into a smile. What would they be like if they were pressed against his own ones… “You did go all out this time.”
“I’ve tried.” Yoongi coughs, clasping his hands together. “Glad you liked it.”
“I loved it.” There is a pleasant tremble down his spine from the praise. He tries to shrug it off.
“I was wondering…” He begins, then pauses for a second, licking his lower lip.
“Yes?” As Yoongi tries to sit up straight, his leg accidentally bumps into his white cane and it falls on the ground with a low thud. It seems it has been too long since he has done this. Was asking someone out always this awkward?
“Sorry.” He mumbles, taking note of the change in Seokjin posture when the elder leans down to gather it.
“Never mind. You were saying?” There is casualty mixed with an emotion Yoongi can’t quite put his finger on in his tone.
“I was wondering…” He starts again, rubbing his sweating palms in his jeans, when he hears a loud crash from the direction of the kitchen. He jumps at the noise, while Seokjin groans.
“Hyung, Namjoon hyung broke one of the tea cups!” A delighted voice chirps from the same the direction dripping with satisfaction to be able to report such news. Yoongi can only imagine the smirk of the owner of it.
“Again.” Another equally cheeky voice adds a second later. Seokjin mutters something under his nose, which sounds very much like a curse and something along the lines of ‘told them not to let him near my vintage collections’, and gets up from his chair.
“Sorry, I have to…” He trails of in search of words, but as if changing his mind, sits down again. “You know what? They can wait a few minutes. Please continue.”
“No, it’s alright; I mean they called for you and all…” Yoongi tries to avert his attention back to the tea cup, but it’s not working.
“It’s not that important; happens all the time. I can rip out my hair a bit later.” Yoongi wishes to know what Seokjin hair is like. Is it long or short? Curly or straight? Is it soft and silky? He understands it’s dyed for Seokjin once complained him about how he didn’t quite get the color he wanted when he bleached it, but that matters little to Yoongi. What interested him are the texture and the length and the smell and oh… He got sidetracked.
“Earth to Yoongi, Earth to Yoongi.” Seokjin is tapping his nose now with the soft pad of his finger. Yoongi grabs the finger, which is long, longer than his own, and delicate, and shoves it away. “Good, I was thinking you’ve fallen asleep.”
“Seokjin!” Yoongi blurts out in one moment of sudden bravery, succeeding in capturing the elder’s attention. Only, he doesn’t know how to go on. “…-hyung!”
“Why would you suddenly add hyung, when you’ve never called me that?” Seokjin cracks up and Yoongi feels positively lost. Well, at least Seokjin is laughing, which is nice, he guesses, in a slightly embarrassing sort of way.
“I wanted to ask you if…” It’s now or never, he decides in his mind. “Would you like to…?”
“He would! Definitely! Go for it, hyung! I’m rooting for you!” One of the voices from earlier butts in, before he could finish, this time from close distance. The young man, judging by the sound of it, must be standing nearby. Yoongi would surely have noticed his presence, had he not been so concentrated on asking Seokjin out. He chews on his lower lip. Min Yoongi does not give in to embarrassment, he won’t. And who is this guy to address him so casually? They’ve never talked before!
“Taehyung, back to the kitchen!” Seokjin orders, but there is laughter hiding in his tone that he attempts to mask with strictness.
“Our hyung is a bit shy and old, but he definitely likes you. I heard him tell Namjoon hyung that he thinks you have a nice smile and ass.” A second voice continues in the other’s stand and Yoongi feels his cheeks heat up.
“Park Jimin, you too!” Seokjin sounds considerably less happy and someone, this Park Jimin, giggling and skipping away from them allows himself one last comment.
“And he loves your voice, too!”
“God, just forget about this, please. These two idiots don’t know when to stop.” Seokjin’s voice is muffled; he must be hiding his face in his hands. Yoongi wouldn’t mind doing the same thing, but he is far to baffled to move or form words. He opens his mouth and closes it again stupidly, before coughing and scratching his nape, then pulling on his beanie.
“So do you really think that I…?”
“Shut up.” Seokjin groans, his voice comes from lower, he should be resting his head on top of the table. Yoongi reaches out slowly and finds his head. He caresses it in a careful, tentative manner. He notes with pleasure that Seokjin’s hair is rather short, straight and soft under his touch. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing.” He stops at once and pulls back his hand hastily. “Sorry…”
“I didn’t hate it, you know…” Seokjin mumbles and there is a creaking of his chair as he sits up. “So?”
“So?” Yoongi asks back, or more like quacks. He can practically hear the grin in Seokjin’s voice as he speaks.
“So when are you going to ask me out?”