Work Text:
here’s the story:
it’s jeongguk’s first free afternoon in a week and he was ready to start on his new art project that’s due by the end of the month. it isn’t anything difficult, by all means, but it isn’t something that he could complete in a few hours. having as much time as he could get would be good. besides, the art studio’s rarely as empty as it is; being alone would help a lot with his concentration.
but first, he would need a new piece of canvas. jeongguk stretches his arms upwards, easing his muscles as he makes his way towards the cupboard, located at the back of the studio. if he remembers correctly, the third cupboard from the left should house his desired size of canvas.
the squeaking of his converse shoes cease to echo around the room when he stops right in front of the cupboard. jeongguk squats down, humming a happy tune as he opens it. he can’t wait to get started.
except he doesn’t expect to see the real life breathing human sitting inside the space where the canvasses should be.
jeongguk doesn’t know what’s worst – the fact that there’s someone sitting in the cupboard!!!, or that the said human turns his head lazily, blond bangs barely revealing his eyes, and says, “shhh, i’m hiding.”
suddenly everything makes perfect sense, but how did taehyung not inform jeongguk about an impending zombie apocalypse?
“from what?”
“it’s my birthday today,” he says simply, as if he isn’t sitting knee-to-chest in a cramped cupboard beneath jeongguk’s waist level, “and my friends are trying to cover me with whipped cream. i’m not having any of that.”
“oh,” jeongguk blinks, “happy birthday.”
“thanks,” he replies in a low and gruff voice, “and close the door before you leave.”
jeongguk’s about to retort with something like sure, make yourself comfy in that small container when he hears the door to the art studio click open.
he doesn’t even think twice when he slams the cupboard shut, flinching a bit at the resounding sound his action makes. then he slowly stands up, turning on his heels to face a complete stranger.
“hi there,” mister stranger waves with a smile that jeongguk gingerly returns, “have you seen yoongi? short, blond, doesn’t talk much, might have said something about it being his birthday today.” there’s a lot of accompanying wild gesturing that honest to be told, jeongguk doesn’t understand, but he puts on his best blank face as he pretends to mull over his thoughts. “sorry, i don’t know anybody named yoongi.”
“aw, that’s too bad then,” mister stranger pouts, “sorry for bothering you!”
jeongguk waits for the studio to truly be empty before he opens the cupboard again and locks eyes with the man who isn’t a figment of his imagination.
the latter throws jeongguk a thumbs up. “thanks for lying, kid.”
“technically, i wasn’t lying. i don’t know your name.”
a bemused smile graces his lips. “you’re funny, i’ll give you that. i’m yoongi.”
this yoongi guy doesn’t even offer his hand for jeongguk to shake as a formality, which jeongguk takes full offense in. so it’s completely acceptable for him to introduce himself more curtly than he should to someone he’s met for the first time. if yoongi seems to notice anything, he doesn’t show it.
jeongguk gives a nod towards the cupboard. “how long have you been in there, anyway?”
yoongi shrugs (or at least, tries to – there isn’t much space for movement, after all). “i don’t know, fifteen minutes? half an hour? i bolted immediately once i found out what those assholes were planning to do.”
jeongguk purses his lips. “maybe you should have let them have their fun; it’s your birthday, after all.” yoongi doesn’t even reply, just wordlessly shifting his legs aside so that jeongguk can take out a canvas from the corner.
instead, he asks, “so, what are you doing?” jeongguk thinks yoongi’s a little weird for hiding in a cupboard, and okay, he didn’t shake his hand – but he sounds so genuinely curious and jeongguk has time to spare. so he tells him of the life he’s literally painted for himself, since the first time he realised his passion for art. of how he’s always followed his heart instead of his mind, of how many rejections and dejections he’s face thus far before he could make his dream become reality. and yeah, one day, jeongguk’s going to be the best, with his name known to the world, but for now, he has to deal with this art assignment first.
yoongi laughs heartily at his story, the kind of laughter that reveals his gummy smile and makes the ends of his eyes crinkle a little. for some reason, the sight of it makes jeongguk’s heart swell, nice and warm.
yoongi waves him off, telling him to do his work. jeongguk peers at him, still sat in the open cupboard, unmoving. he cocks his head, “you’re not leaving?”
“nah, they might come back for me,” yoongi replies, “i’ll stay here a little while more.” he reaches a hand out to pull the cupboard in to enclose himself once again, but he doesn’t even finish closing one side of it when jeongguk suddenly blurts out “wait!” and runs off to the other side of the studio.
when he comes into yoongi’s view again, jeongguk’s dragging an art easel with him. he sets it carefully, directly in front of the cupboard, and turns to yoongi with a small, proud grin after he places his canvas on it. “no one can see you if i cover you up,” he explains, “so you don’t have you coop yourself up inside and breathe in musky wood.”
jeongguk wonders if he’s imagining the features on yoongi’s face soften at his words, but his hands drop away from the cupboard door. “thanks, kid,” he mutters almost inaudibly.
“you’re welcome,” jeongguk replies anyway, unable to stop the smile from spreading on his face.
for a while, jeongguk works in complete silence and with utmost concentration, only accompanied by the sound of graphite against canvas. it’s only after he’s done sketching out his painting that he realises yoongi hasn’t spoken a single word.
jeongguk turns. yoongi, with one leg sticking out of the cupboard, is fast asleep. his head’s pillowed against the wood at the back, arms crossed. jeongguk counts the number of breaths he takes; the number of times his chest heaves up and down. something about the man engulfed in a hoodie two sizes too large, with scruffy blond hair falling into his face, makes him look a little less intimidating and a whole lot softer.
it’s a beautiful sight to take in. and jeongguk knows exactly what to do.
---
yoongi awakes to a slight nudging to his shoulder. blearily, he opens his eyes, only to come face-to-face with jeongguk. judging by the light orange hues bouncing off the studio walls, it’s dusk. he must have slept for at least two hours.
but what catches yoongi’s eyes is the piece of paper in jeongguk’s hand. “happy birthday, yoongi-ssi,” jeongguk whispers, as if he’s talking to a yoongi still in slumber.
it’s a sketch of yoongi himself curled up in a cupboard, splashed with watercolour. “sorry, it’s kind of rough, i did it in a rush,” jeongguk says quickly, tripping over his words a little.
awed and more than slightly touched at the effort the boy’s put in for a complete stranger, yoongi looks up from the sketch to properly look at jeongguk, all dark brown eyes and pink lips. huh. he’s actually quite nice to look at.
jeongguk’s eyelashes flutter against his cheeks rapidly, flushed from the sudden attention. he straightens up immediately, patting his jeans down almost self-consciously. “what,” he mutters, the tinge of nervousness not gone unheard.
there’s a bit of paint under jeongguk’s right eye that yoongi stops himself from reaching out to swipe away. swallowing at the growing realization within him, he replies, “no, no, jeongguk, i like it. i like it a lot. thanks.”
the blinding smile that appears on jeongguk’s face makes his admission worthwhile.
---
this is how things progress:
yoongi comes into the studio once again, the next day, with two cups of coffee. “this is for saving my ass, yesterday,” he says, shoving one cup into jeongguk’s free hand.
“thanks, but i don’t drink coffee,” jeongguk frowns, peering into the cup curiously. “is there even sugar in this?”
“suck it up, kid,” yoongi grumbles in reply.
(he doesn’t fight back the grin when jeongguk makes a face after a sip, but he does bring in a cup of hot chocolate instead, the next day. and the next. and the next.)
---
the first time yoongi comes around with his laptop tucked under his arm, citing that the tranquil silence would help him with his productivity, jeongguk wonders if it’d be awkward. they technically still barely know each other, and the last time they spent a prolonged amount of time together, yoongi had been asleep for most of it.
but it isn’t. it’s anything but awkward, actually – yoongi’s presence turns out to be a welcoming one. the silence that stretches between them is long but comfortable, a warmth and a blanket of security that envelopes jeongguk as a whole, not letting him out. it’s different from the playful banter he often engages with jimin, and it’s definitely different from the childish pranks he pulls together with taehyung, but somehow, jeongguk doesn’t mind. likes it, even.
sometimes, they set aside their respective works to strike up a conversation: min yoongi, fifth year, pursuing a master’s degree in musical composition. jeon jeongguk, first year, majoring in art and design. honestly, the age gap between them should have intimidated him a bit, but jeongguk finds himself leaning forward with every story yoongi shares, eager to hear them all -- and secretly hoping to one day be included in the stories, for yoongi to share, as well.
---
the day jeongguk submits his art assignment, yoongi asks him out.
“you busy?” he asks, and when jeongguk shakes his head, he says, “then let’s head out; it’s getting a little bit boring, hanging out in the art studio.”
this is yoongi, who buys him drinks and sometimes food and asks him about his day; yoongi, who hid himself in a cupboard and took a part of jeongguk’s heart for his birthday.
jeongguk couldn’t possibly say no.
---
here’s how it ends:
in september, it’s jeongguk’s birthday. taehyung and hoseok make their plans of caking jeongguk with whipped cream known to the world. so jeongguk hides in yoongi’s arms, because he makes all the bad things go away.
(too bad it doesn’t work this time: yoongi’s gets covered in whipped cream as well, as revenge for escaping his punishment in march.)