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“You know, I think I remember reminding you about this test last week.”
Jungkook huffs and cradles his chin in the palm of his hand. His pencil absentmindedly scribbles a design into the margins of the ruled paper that stares up at him, hopelessly blank, from where it rests on his desk. “No, I don’t think you did,” he says with a little pout and a furrowed brow.
“Hm.” Namjoon moves his fingers over his mouth to hide the small grin that threatens to escape his lips. “Well, how about that note I left in your planner?”
Jungkook’s frown deepens. “The yellow one?”
“Right,” Namjoon agrees. “The yellow one.”
Jungkook’s pencil moves a little quicker. “Mm, no. I didn’t see any note.”
Namjoon’s smile deepens. “How strange. It must have fallen out when you opened your backpack or something like that.”
“Yeah,” Jungkook says readily. “Something like that.”
Jungkook’s doodles get darker as his pencil presses against the otherwise empty page and Namjoon taps his boyfriend’s wrist gently. “Don’t be angry,” Namjoon says, his voice as soft as the dying light of sunset that streams through the cheap blinds in the apartment they share.
Namjoon’s hand snakes across his boyfriend’s back. The fabric of his hoodie is warm from the sun-facing window and it’s moments like these – Jungkook’s current distress aside – that remind him how glad he is that he has someone by his side through all of life’s mundanity.
It took a while for him to realize what it meant when he stopped hating doing the laundry as soon as he started washing Jungkook’s socks alongside his own.
He’d never expected to fall for his roommate, but he should have known he was doomed from the start. He took one look at Jungkook, squished into the bottom bunk in their freshman dorms – so much smaller than the apartment they shared now – and saw something reflected in his large, doe-like eyes that left him with a strange, instinctive warmth in his chest. It was as if his body predicted what would happen between them before the thought of falling for Jungkook had even crossed his mind.
Even now, two and a half years later, he’s left with fleeting pangs of surprise at how easy it all was. He didn’t use to believe in things like fate. He’d spent the first nineteen years of his life believing in logical, tangible things. When he met Jungkook, he thought maybe there was some kind of explanation for the way everything in their lives had somehow led them to the same room, in the same dorm hall, at the same university.
When they kissed for the first time, it was fall. And yet, Namjoon’s soul shone like he’d swallowed the sun. He knew, then, that not everything could be explained. He learned to appreciate the delicate, indescribable pull of fate.
It’s changed his entire perspective, their relationship. It makes each of the moments that pass precious. It’s why even now, as Jungkook mopes over his midterm and chews the middle of his bottom lip with his teeth, Namjoon feels some strange sort of peace—like he knows that it’s just another thing they’ll get through together like they always have.
Jungkook sighs as he presses a hand to his brow and Namjoon’s brought back from his thoughts at the sound, his gaze shifting to Jungkook’s face just as his bangs fall to cover the small tattoos that climb up his fingers. “It’s worth at least twenty percent of my final grade,” Jungkook whines. “I’m doomed.”
“Hey, look at me,” Namjoon says. His fingers find Jungkook’s, and he gently lifts his hand from his face to set it on his lap. His hand is warm against the thin fabric of the sweatpants Namjoon wears, and he gently strokes Jungkook’s knuckles, fingernails tracing the outline of the tattoos he has there until Jungkook looks up from his desk to meet Namjoon’s gaze.
“You’re going to be just fine,” he tells Jungkook once his boyfriend’s eyes meet his own. “You have me, remember?”
Jungkook nods. His frown slides into something of a smile and Namjoon’s heart squeezes in his chest, enamored by even the smallest things Jungkook does—from the way his eyes sparkle in the dying light as dusk approaches to the way he shifts a little closer to where Namjoon sits, scooting his chair against the floor only to wince at the sound the legs of the chair make as they shift against the hardwood floor.
“We have all night,” Namjoon reminds him gently. “We’ll have you ready to ace your exam by morning.”
“I don’t want to study,” Jungkook sighs. His eyes shift back to where his study guide rests alongside the lined paper he’s set out on his desk, and the little frown Namjoon thinks his boyfriend’s been wearing since he first sat down reappears.
“I know, baby,” Namjoon responds, unable to hide the grin that flits about his lips at his boyfriend’s petulance. “But as soon as you’re finished with exams, we’ll have all summer together. Just you and me and two whole months of no responsibilities.”
Jungkook tosses his hair from where it’s fallen back over his eyes. “That’s true,” he says. His tongue pushes against the silver piercing that shines at the edge of his bottom lip, and Namjoon watches the motion, transfixed as he usually seems to be as the slight sheen of spit glistens at the corner of his mouth just above the metal. Namjoon bites the inside of his cheek in an attempt to switch his focus back to the task at hand.
“Why don’t we start small, yeah? Let’s just go over the review. You said you did well enough when you got the practice exam back, didn’t you?”
“I got a C,” Jungkook says as he shifts through the small pile of papers on the desk before he finds the packet he’s looking for. “But I was allowed to use my textbook for the practice, and the actual exam won’t be open book.”
Namjoon hums. “Well, let’s just take it one section at a time. Let’s start here.” He motions toward the first few questions. There are a few red pen marks that slash through the breadth of Jungkook’s answers, and Namjoon feels a flash of annoyance at the notes printed into the margins of the paper, the crowded feedback from Jungkook’s professor a reminder of Namjoon’s own frustration with the course.
“You’ll need to be familiar with these dates,” Namjoon says, lifting his hand from where it rests against Jungkook’s in his lap to point at the list of important information printed on the review guide. “Do you have these memorized?”
“Yes,” Jungkook responds. He’s quiet for a moment as his eyes scan the page before he turns his attention back to where Namjoon sits. “If I fail,” he starts, “will you still love me?”
Namjoon stares at his boyfriend, surprised. Then, before he can help it, he’s laughing, giggles ripping through him with enough force to leave his shoulders shaking.
“Hey,” Jungkook says with a pout, “why are you laughing? It’s a serious question.”
Namjoon’s laughter ceases as he pulls Jungkook’s arms from where he’s crossed them at his chest. “Jungkook-ah,” he scolds. “You think I’ll break up with you if you fail a history exam?”
Jungkook’s pretty pout deepens. “Maybe,” he says.
“Ah, you could fail all the exams in the world, baby. You know that, don’t you?”
Namjoon presses a kiss to Jungkook’s temple, and despite the way Jungkook squirms beneath the embrace, he’s smiling when Namjoon pulls away. The faintest blush spreads across the bridge of Jungkook’s nose to join the flush building along the apples of his cheeks and Namjoon taps a finger at the tip of his nose, amused.
Suddenly, Jungkook’s eyes widen. “I have an idea,” he says, a shy smile stretching across his lips as he meets Namjoon’s gaze.
“Does your idea involve studying for your exam?”
Jungkook rolls his eyes, but there’s a sparkle in them that tells Namjoon not to buy into his faux display of sass. “Yes, it does.”
Namjoon smiles. “Let’s hear it then.”
“How about you quiz me, and I get a reward for each question I answer correctly?”
Namjoon meets Jungkook’s eyes, unable to hide the suspicion that’s begun to creep into his gaze. “What kind of reward?” Namjoon asks.
The grin stretched across Jungkook’s lips grows as his gaze flicks across Namjoon’s features. “A kiss,” he says, and despite his best efforts, Namjoon’s heart beats a little quicker in his chest.
Namjoon reaches for the study guide and winks at Jungkook, his boyfriend’s interest in studying suddenly renewed as he presses his hands together beneath his chin and blinks at Namjoon, waiting.
“In which year did the Joseon dynasty end –”
“1910.”
Namjoon blinks, surprised. “Erm, yes. Good job.”
Jungkook’s eyes close softly, his chin angling forward a bit as his lips fall from his smile. It takes a few seconds for Namjoon to realize what it is he’s waiting for. By the time Namjoon’s lips fall to meet his boyfriend’s, enough time has passed for Jungkook to let out a little noise of surprise as Namjoon’s hand settles against his neck as he presses an innocent kiss against Jungkook’s plush lips.
“Oh,” Jungkook breathes as he pulls away. “I think I like studying.”
Namjoon laughs. He reaches for his boyfriend’s hand and gives it a quick squeeze, hopelessly endeared as he turns his attention back to the review guide. “Next question,” Namjoon says.
“I’m ready,” Jungkook says, and there’s a look of determination across his features that has Namjoon’s laugh deepening.
He can’t help the small burst of pride that alights in his chest each time Jungkook answers something correctly. He’s more prepared for the exam than Namjoon thinks he’s given himself credit for – during the rest of their study session, Jungkook only fumbles over one section, and they spend most of their time there, focusing on the areas Jungkook has the most trouble understanding.
When the night deepens and their studying finally ceases, they slip into the bed they share with swollen lips, the dozens of kisses they shared leaving the tips of their ears as pink as their lips, and their flushed cheeks are sore from smiling.
“Promise you’ll text me as soon as you receive your results,” Namjoon whispers as he combs his fingers through Jungkook’s hair, reveling at how his boyfriend’s eyes close gently with each drag of his fingers across his scalp.
“I promise,” Jungkook responds, his words slurred with the beginnings of sleep.
“I love you,” Namjoon tells him, pulling him closer to his chest, content beneath the weight of Jungkook’s sleep-heavy limbs as one of his arms falls. “You’ll do great tomorrow.”
Namjoon isn’t expecting a response. Not when Jungkook’s breathing slows, his face tucked against Namjoon’s neck, and his feet kicking beneath the sheets as he wrestles with whatever it is he sees in his dreams.
The little projected stars Jungkook likes to sleep with dance across the ceiling, and Namjoon holds him a little bit tighter as he wishes on the shimmering constellations for only the best things to happen to Jungkook as his boyfriend settles against him, and Namjoon’s little universe slips away as he sleeps.