Chapter Text
Kim Seokjin hated Min Yoongi.
Okay — hated was a strong word. But “disapproved of his entire aura” felt a little too dramatic, even for Seokjin. Still, he stood by his assessment. There was something about Yoongi that just rubbed him the wrong way.
Maybe it was the designer sneakers. Or the fact that he always, always, had the latest tech before anyone else. Or the rumors about him being heir to some family business — no one really knew what it was, but apparently it involved a building with marble floors and a private elevator.
Seokjin thought Yoongi was just another rich, bored student playing pretend at campus life.
Which made it incredibly annoying that they kept running into each other.
“Can you pass the soldering iron?” Yoongi asked casually.
Seokjin blinked. “You’re in this class?”
Yoongi looked up from the circuit board. “I’ve been sitting next to you for three weeks.”
“…Oh.”
Yoongi smirked. “Nice to finally meet you, too.”
Seokjin huffed. “I just didn’t expect someone with a Chanel keychain to be building a DIY radio kit.”
“Luxury tastes,” Yoongi said, taking the tool. “Humble hobbies.”
Seokjin rolled his eyes. Arrogant. Just as he thought.
The problem was, Yoongi wasn’t mean. Or loud. Or even particularly flashy.
He was just… quiet. Dry-humored. With a resting face that looked vaguely disinterested, but also like he might loan you money if you asked nicely. It annoyed Seokjin more that everyone seemed to love him.
Jimin, for example, would always light up whenever Yoongi brought snacks to the study group.
“I didn’t ask for these,” Jimin once protested, looking at the bag of fancy croissants.
“I didn’t ask you to Venmo me either,” Yoongi replied.
Jungkook added, “Hyung paid for my concert ticket too.”
Yoongi shrugged. “You said you couldn’t afford it.”
Seokjin narrowed his eyes. “Is this your thing? Just buying your way into people’s lives?”
Yoongi paused. “Is it working?”
“Excuse me?”
Yoongi leaned back and sipped his overpriced coffee. “You’re talking to me more today than you did last week.”
Seokjin scoffed. “Only to call you out.”
“That still counts.”
Over time, Seokjin had to admit: Yoongi was… weird.
Not in a bad way. Just in a way Seokjin didn’t understand.
He was the kind of guy who didn’t blink twice about covering a group meal. Or loaning someone his tablet for an entire week with a simple “Just don’t lose it.” He remembered birthdays and brought thoughtful gifts — a plushy for Taehyung, noise-canceling earplugs for Namjoon, a warm hoodie for Hobi during midterms.
It annoyed Seokjin.
Because he didn’t get it.
Why be that generous?
Why not expect anything in return?
Why act so nonchalant about giving away things that cost half a month's rent?
Then one night, Seokjin tripped on the curb outside the campus library and scraped his knee.
Yoongi was walking a few feet behind him and, wordlessly, offered his hoodie for Seokjin to sit on while they checked the bleeding.
Seokjin blinked. “Why do you have a mini first-aid kit?”
Yoongi replied, “Because Jungkook falls down the stairs at least once a week.”
“Why are you even out here?”
Yoongi shrugged. “I saw you leave and thought you forgot your charger.”
He held it up.
It was Seokjin’s.
“Oh.”
Yoongi crouched down beside him and started applying ointment. “You okay?”
“…Yeah. Just a scrape.”
Yoongi paused. “I’ll get you a new pair of jeans. Those are torn.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Hyung.”
“No.”
“…Okay.”
Yoongi didn’t argue. He just helped Seokjin up and walked him home.
After that night, things shifted.
Seokjin started noticing more. Like how Yoongi always waited until everyone else served themselves before taking food. How he listened more than he spoke. How he had insomnia but never complained. How he lent Taehyung his camera for a whole semester project and never once asked for updates.
“He’s loaded,” Jimin said once, lounging on the library floor. “But he never makes us feel like we owe him.”
“He just… helps,” Hoseok added. “I think it’s how he shows love.”
Seokjin stared into his coffee. “I thought he was trying to impress people.”
“He is, hyung,” Jungkook smirked. “He gave you his charger and his hoodie. That’s his version of roses and chocolates.”
Seokjin choked on his drink.
The first time Yoongi tried to kiss him, it was awkward.
They were walking back from a ramen place, both slightly buzzed from soju. Seokjin had laughed at something Yoongi said — genuinely, loudly — and Yoongi paused, just long enough for the world to tilt a little.
“You’re not arrogant,” Seokjin blurted.
Yoongi blinked. “That’s… a weird thing to say right before a kiss.”
“I thought you were. At first.”
Yoongi chuckled. “I know.”
“You did?”
Yoongi took a slow step forward. “You always look at me like I’m a vending machine you don’t want to admit is useful.”
“…That’s oddly specific.”
“I can be oddly specific.”
Seokjin hesitated. “Why me, Yoongi? Why… try so hard with me?”
Yoongi didn’t answer right away.
Then he said, “Because you look at people like they’re worth knowing. And I wanted to be someone worth knowing to you.”
It wasn’t a perfect kiss.
Yoongi bumped his nose. Seokjin accidentally stepped on his foot. They both laughed.
But when it landed, it was soft and warm and tasted like noodles and safety.
Dating Yoongi was not what Seokjin expected.
He didn’t flaunt their relationship. He didn’t post about it. He didn’t start carrying matching couple items or dragging Seokjin to overpriced restaurants. He just… continued doing what he always did.
Except now Seokjin was in the circle of quiet spoiling.
Yoongi would leave snacks in his backpack. Buy him ergonomic pens during finals. Upgrade their shared notes app to premium “just in case we want dark mode.”
Seokjin started calling him out.
“You’re being a sugar daddy again.” - Seokjin
“I paid for a coffee refill.” - Yoongi
“It had gold flakes.” - Seokjin
“You said it looked cool.” - Yoongi
“That doesn’t mean buy it!” - Seokjin
“But you smiled when I gave it to you.” - Yoongi
“Stop using my smile as an excuse!” - Seokjin
Yoongi only ever smiled back. “I’ll stop when it stops working.”
Eventually, Seokjin stopped fighting it.
He still refused outright gifts sometimes. Still insisted on paying for his share. Still wrinkled his nose when Yoongi upgraded his cracked phone screen without asking.
But he also started accepting the little things.
The jacket Yoongi tucked around him in the library.
The seat reserved next to Yoongi every movie night.
The quiet hand squeezes under the table.
And maybe… the gold-flaked coffee.
Occasionally.
One rainy night, Seokjin showed up at Yoongi’s apartment soaked from head to toe.
Yoongi blinked at him. “Hyung, you look like a wet cat.”
“I forgot my umbrella.”
Yoongi handed him a towel. “I told you to take mine this morning.”
“I thought the rain would wait.”
Yoongi rolled his eyes fondly. “Rain doesn’t wait for anyone. Except probably Jungkook.”
“Fair.”
Seokjin stripped off his wet hoodie and stood shivering in Yoongi’s hallway. “I think I caught a cold.”
Yoongi was already in the kitchen, boiling water. “Sit down. I’ll make you tea.”
Ten minutes later, Seokjin was bundled in blankets, holding a mug, watching Yoongi scroll through his playlist.
“You spoil me,” he said quietly.
Yoongi looked up. “I try.”
“Why?”
Yoongi paused, thoughtful. Then he walked over, leaned down, and pressed a soft kiss to Seokjin’s forehead.
“Because you let me.”
By the end of the semester, everyone knew.
They didn’t make a big announcement. But Seokjin stopped correcting people when they said “your boyfriend” and Yoongi started smiling more — the real kind, not the barely-there one.
Seokjin still rolled his eyes every time Yoongi paid for the group lunch. Still groaned when he got a random package on his doorstep (with Yoongi’s handwriting). Still muttered, “You’re impossible.”
But now he also kissed Yoongi back when no one was looking.
And sometimes when everyone was.
One day, while packing up from a group project, Seokjin knocked over Yoongi’s brand-new headphones.
They cracked on impact.
“Oh my god—”
Yoongi blinked at the pieces. Then at Seokjin’s horrified face. Then he smiled.
“I’ll buy new ones.”
Seokjin groaned. “Stop!”
Yoongi grinned. “Let me, Hyung.”
“I’m never going to break anything again.”
“That’s a lie.”
“…Okay, it is.”
Yoongi took his hand and kissed his knuckles. “Good thing I’m rich.”
Seokjin threw a notebook at him.