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Min Yoongi wasn’t scared of anything.
Maybe heights bothered him just a tad and catching sight of any sort of creepy-crawler just might raise goosebumps on his pale arms and maybe, just maybe, thunderstorms were a bit unnerving.
But that was beside the point. He wasn’t afraid of anything, remember?
Yoongi looks outside the window in utter dismay (yeah, he’s willing to admit that one), the sounds of the raindrops drumming increasingly louder against the roof. Other people had been smarter than him, checking their weather apps and heading home before they could get caught walking in the deluge or worse, the forecasted thunderstorm that Yoongi had so conveniently forgotten about. Meanwhile, time was ticking and the café was getting closer and closer to closing for the day. Was it his fault that the book he’d been reading was so damned good?
Yes, he thinks, shoulders drooping. He should have seen this coming. Planned better. The sky’s getting darker and darker, as if the gusts of wind are bringing the doom and gloom along with them.
“Sir?”
Yoongi snaps his gaze away from the window to the tall male standing next to his chair. He’s got fluffy black hair that parts slightly over his eye, a build that one can see is nice even through – or, perhaps, because of – his loose white shirt, and a smile that suddenly makes him seem ten years younger. Usually he looks a bit stoic, like someone who you didn’t want to mess with, though girls seemed to like that plenty regardless. Either way, the male is objectively speaking, unfairly attractive. Insert some overused saying about God spending a little extra time on creating him. Yeah, that seemed about right.
Jeon Jungkook, the name tag reads. Not that Yoongi didn’t know by now. Wasn’t it only natural, when this was his favorite place to spend time? The coffee was delicious (he was a big fan of well-made cappuccinos), the atmosphere nice and, yeah, Jungkook was kind of cute. Maybe more than a little cute? And maybe Yoongi came sometimes just to see him?
Also beside the point.
“Yeah, I know, I know. I’m gone,” Yoongi mutters. The faint tinkle of the bell notifies the two of them that the café now only has…two people remaining. And one of them owned the place.
Jungkook looks a bit sheepish. “I wasn’t kicking you out.”
“Really.” Yoongi lifts an eyebrow.
“Really,” Jungkook says, his nose crinkling as he laughs slightly. (God damn, he’s cute.) He’s bending down slightly, presumably to spare Yoongi from feeling like he’s being towered over while sitting, but Jungkook’s still really tall and Yoongi feels kind of strangely caged into his seat. But safe. A hand casually rests on the back of Yoongi’s chair and he looks up at Jungkook, heat crawling up the back up his ears. It’s obviously because Jungkook’s arm is so warm.
In any case, Yoongi’s grateful he’s not the type to blush. “Liar.”
“Well, maybe a little? But I didn’t have any intention of actually kicking you out. A friendly reminder at most. I just kind of wanted to talk to you about the book.”
Yoongi blinks. “Huh?”
“The book?” Jungkook points at the hardcover in Yoongi’s hands. “It’s by Kim Namjoon, right? His latest novel?”
“No way, you read his stuff? It’s some dark shit.” Yoongi can feel his lips forming into a smile despite himself. “People don’t always like it. Stretching the limits of postmodernism and all that.”
“But his stories are always amazing,” Jungkook sighs. “He always manages to surprise you, even when you try to expect what’s going to happen. I don’t even like reading, but I’ll spend the whole day with his books. Especially Young Forever, that one was great.”
“Right?” Yoongi smiles fondly. For a second, Jungkook seems to freeze up and Yoongi wonders what’s wrong, but the look is gone so quickly, he figures he just imagined it.
“You seem happy,” Jungkook murmurs.
Yoongi nibbles a little at his lower lip before replying, “I teach postmodern literature. And I really like it. And I like it when students like the stuff I like. People are always calling modern-day writing trash and putting classics on a pedestal, especially some of the more prestigious professors, but there are gems like this that need to be analyzed…or something.”
Jungkook’s eyes widen. “No way, you can’t possibly be a professor? You look way too young.”
“Thanks,” Yoongi laughs dryly. “I’m just a lecturer for now.”
“That’s still pretty cool.”
“Thanks, I guess.”
With that, a surprisingly comfortable silence begins to settle between them.
It’s weird because Yoongi isn’t the type of person to get along with anyone right away, but Jungkook makes him feel a little at ease. Other than the fact that his heart is beating a little quickly and a little too loudly, of course.
The old-fashioned wooden grandfather clock that fits so nicely with the aesthetic of the café starts to ring softly and Yoongi knows he’s overstayed his welcome as a customer. Absentmindedly, he packs up his small bag and eventually slings it around his left shoulder when he stands up. His facial muscles aren’t exactly working with him (so, maybe Jungkook makes him a bit nervous, fine) but he imagines the expression on his face is closer to a smile. Hopefully. “Anyway, I really will get going this time. It was cool finding out you’re a fan of one of my favorite authors.”
He makes a move to go but Jungkook’s faster, his sudden “Wait!” stopping Yoongi in his tracks. With a raised brow, he silently asks Jungkook what he wants.
“I didn’t catch your name.”
In disbelief, he lets out a small laugh. “It’s Yoongi. Min Yoongi.”
“Okay. Yoongi…hyung,” Jungkook says slowly, like he’s testing the feeling of the syllables on his tongue. “Is that okay?”
“Yeah.”
Jungkook beams. “It was nice officially meeting you, Yoongi hyung. Stay safe.”
“In the rain? Rain’s not gonna kill me.” The brusqueness of Yoongi’s words are offset by a small quirk of his lips and he swears Jungkook literally lights up (does he just do that, or is it a filter in Yoongi’s own vision?) as he takes a few steps towards the door.
But, no surprise, the world hates him and sends a flash of lightning from the sky. It brightens everything in the vicinity for a brief second, the sky turning a telltale, purple-y gray.
Yoongi completely freezes on the spot.
“Oh shit,” he mutters under his breath.
“Hyung? What’s wrong?” Jungkook is suddenly in front of him, wide eyes searching for the problem in Yoongi’s face. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine-“
Then, thunder.
***
Jungkook’s arms react more quickly than anything else when Yoongi’s head suddenly ends up in the crook between his neck and shoulder, small hands gripping the back of Jungkook’s t-shirt. Sharp breaths warm the area near his heart in a didn’t-mean-to-be-poetic-but-it-kind-of-is way.
“H-Hyung?” Jungkook asks, completely confused. It’s almost overwhelming, the warmth of Yoongi’s body pressed against his, the scent of something a little spicy (is it Yoongi’s shampoo?) mixing with the smell of coffee in the air. Yoongi’s hair tickles the column of his throat, and Jungkook adjusts, leaning in towards the older male.
Min Yoongi is just so small.
“Damn it,” Yoongi mumbles into Jungkook’s chest, his words muffled. The older man was trembling, tiny shivers shaking his entire body.
Jungkook wraps his arms more tightly around Yoongi’s waist, hands stroking circular patterns on the small of his back in what Jungkook hoped was a reassuring way. Another rumble of thunder rolls around and this time, it isn’t so difficult for him to piece together the problem when a gasp escapes the older man’s lips and Jungkook almost has to take a step back to support the male burrowing ever closer: Yoongi, he supposed, had a fear of thunderstorms.
“It’s okay. You’re okay,” Jungkook whispers, his lips pressing a smile into the top of Yoongi’s head.
“Of course I’m okay,” Yoongi retorts, but his hands betray him, gripping Jungkook’s shirt even harder. “This is ridiculous. It’s just a thunderstorm.”
“It’s okay.”
“I just met you. This is fucking embarrassing. I’m not like this.” Yoongi sounds like he’d like nothing more than to let go, tone of his voice scathing, but Jungkook finds this a little (hopelessly) endearing. Why, he’s not a hundred percent sure. It’s just that Yoongi seems a bit rough around the edges, with a personality that would make you doubt his real height, a presence that made him seem bigger; but now it was like seeing him with his defenses down, the spikes and walls crumbling just a little bit to let Jungkook in.
And, what can he say, he just might be a little smitten.
Jungkook laughs softly. “Well, don’t worry. Things work out in strange ways sometimes.”
Indeed.
The thing was, Jungkook had always been intrigued by this man that had just appeared one day and decided to make it a consistent part of his daily routine to come to this particular café. He seemed to have a mysterious sort of air around him and it was fascinating observing him. Plus, it wasn’t like there was too much to do at a small café like this anyway. Jungkook almost made a game out of it.
Throughout the countless days of peering over at the corner table – Yoongi always sat there at the same spot, at the same time and would stay until half an hour before closing, would order the same drink and consume it at the same pace each day – Jungkook had noticed a lot of little things.
For one, Yoongi looked unfairly adorable when he wore glasses. He was often reading books or grading papers or typing away furiously on his laptop and for all of those activities, he always took out a round-rimmed pair of glasses out from a simple black case. No nonsense, just like the person himself. Once worn, it had a tendency to slide down Yoongi’s nose from time to time, and a slim finger would come up to push it back.
Sometimes when Yoongi was really engrossed in his work, he’d get this blank, almost lost, expression on his face that Jungkook found strangely cute. Yoongi’s lips would be slightly parted, eyes a little narrowed and scanning whatever it was that he needed to read.
And then his smile. Well, now that was just cheating.
The thing that made it startlingly clear for him, though, was that when Yoongi didn’t show up yesterday, he’d been sorely disappointed and glum. Which didn’t bode well at all, seeing as how Jungkook might have the slightest crush on a guy (for one thing) that he’d never even gone and talked to, just admired from afar – and did that not just scream desperate slash (super)creepy?
Because of that, today, Jungkook had finally worked up the courage to go talk to him about something more than the usual order of cappuccino, but he had no idea it would end up like this.
This being Yoongi in his arms, clutching to Jungkook like his life depended on it.
“Hey, hyung.”
“What.”
“Go on a date with me?” He lets the question escape his mouth before he can chicken out and Yoongi looks up at him with a glare that could kill.
“You’re asking me that now?” The last word ends up squeaking as another boom of thunder interrupts their moment, propelling Yoongi further into his chest.
“Yeah,” Jungkook answers stupidly, with what he imagines is an equally stupid grin on his face. “When else?”
It feels like a millennium before Jungkook hears a sound so quiet he almost dismisses it entirely: “…Fine.”
Jungkook nearly chokes. He hadn’t actually expected Yoongi to agree to it. “What?”
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
“Great,” Jungkook beams, unable to fight his smile from growing even larger. “Now I don’t need an excuse to hold you and you don’t need to get upset. Since we’re dating.”
“Yeah…wait, what?” Yoongi looks up at him, brows furrowed. His eyes search Jungkook’s like he’s trying to find the answer to a difficult question. Jungkook tamps down a swelling feeling of anxiety as he waits for Yoongi who finally lets out a, “We’re dating?”
“Yep,” Jungkook says brightly, an immense relief lifting the weight from his shoulders.
Yoongi looks like he wants to protest, but to Jungkook’s delight, the older man doesn’t do anything except lower his head again back onto Jungkook’s shoulder. Jungkook fights the smile threatening to take over his face but loses badly.
“So…you’re afraid of thunderstorms.”
“Hrmph.”
Jungkook’s lips quirk up ever higher, his nose scrunching up. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“You’re a persistent one, aren’t you?”
“And you get angry when you’re scared,” Jungkook chuckles, feeling Yoongi grasp his shirt ever tighter. “What do you normally do during thunderstorms?”
“Go over next door to my neighbor,” Yoongi mutters and for the first time, Jungkook’s the one who scowls. His arms tighten involuntarily around Yoongi’s waist.
“Well, I hope you don’t do that anymore.”
Yoongi lifts his head, blinking at Jungkook’s tense expression. “He takes really good care of me though. Holds my hand, puts his arms around me-“
“Hyung!”
But then, Yoongi smirks. “What are you so worked up for?”
“I don’t know,” Jungkook answers honestly. “But from now on, come to me instead, okay?”
“What a brat.” The words are harsh but Yoongi’s voice is gentle.
Boom.
Jungkook’s laughter fills the air as Yoongi clutches him ever tighter.