Chapter Text
Yoongi loved rain.
He loved it the way he loved his childhood home, the way he loved softly padded headphones and warm sweaters, the way he loved coffee on cold evenings and the smell of steamed white rice. He loved it quietly, fondly, consistently—the way he could admit that he loved most things.
With thoughts of rain came the ideas of solitude, peace, and quiet. Yoongi slept better to the sound of rain. He liked walking the emptier streets and the smell of wet earth. He liked opening his curtains to a dim, clouded world, as he and direct sunlight had never been on the best of terms.
But, as he opened the door to leave the campus library and was met with a steady downpour, he found himself wishing that it hadn’t rained today. Hell, the completely exhausted part of him was wishing that rain didn’t even exist.
He was two blocks away from the music building and he had only one last responsibility until his college semester was blissfully over. However, he also had no umbrella and a handful of sheet music that couldn’t get wet.
To help pay for the last year of his tuition, Yoongi had accepted a position as a Teaching Assistant for a first semester Introductory Composition class. His parents helped him pay for college as best they could, and Yoongi had been able to get by because he worked his ass off in the summer.
However, he couldn’t have turned down a TA position that would lessen his tuition and expected his parents to pay for him to be lazy without feeling guilty.
Besides, he could ace Introductory Composition in his sleep. And Professor Lee was a nice, personable Beta with a no-nonsense attitude when it came to music. He had enjoyed taking her classes in the past.
Yoongi liked how serious she was, how she hadn't gotten upset when he almost fell asleep in her classes because she knew he read the material and worked hard. He liked how she set high bars and expected students to meet them. Sometimes, Yoongi had needed the push.
She had a great love and passion for classical music that Yoongi didn’t share, but he thought that was maybe why she had asked him to be her TA in the first place. He knew that she also didn’t share his love of rap or hip hop. And so, with the two of them combined, they covered a love for most genres of music.
Passion cannot be faked, she told her classes constantly, and most likely had that in mind when she gave portions of the rap and hip hop units to Yoongi to teach. He hadn’t been expecting to actually teach classes, but he had apparently took to it well, if Professor Lee was to be believed.
It had been amusing to watch the wide-eyed first years treat him like a god when they came to his office hours, and even more amusing to watch them systematically avoid him on other parts of campus. There were even a few instances where he’d seen his students turning around in their tracks or hiding around corners.
Yoongi hadn’t taken it personally. He knew he usually looked grumpy and he was known for hissing at people when they woke him from naps.
It also helped that Jin and Namjoon had found it hilarious. The three of them had formed a small pack at the beginning of Yoongi’s third year, and they looked out for each other, mentally and physically.
Over the last few days, Namjoon and Jin had been watching Yoongi endlessly work on his final projects and study for exams with a growing concern. Yoongi knew he forgot to take care of himself sometimes, and he was looking forward to sleeping off his exhaustion and his pack’s worry.
He would probably be already sleeping now if he hadn’t been given this final task to do.
Professor Lee had sent him an email half an hour ago. He'd gotten it just as he left his final exam of the semester, which had run late.
Yoongi,
I've finished grading the Introductory Composition students' final projects. If you have the chance and have completed your own finals, can you pick them up from me in the library so I can continue grading other classes? I want to leave the projects with the secretary in the music building this afternoon. That way, if they want to, the students can pick them up before the semester break.
I can bring the projects over as well. However, if I stop grading and leave the library now, I fear I won't find it within myself to go back in.
Let me know if you are available in the next few hours.
P. Lee Yewon
Yoongi had replied telling her that he would be there in about ten minutes. He thought he could just do this last duty as a TA and then go home for some much needed sleep. He’d only slept a total of four hours, maybe less, in the last three days and he could feel it in how heavy his eyelids were. Even the excessive amount of coffee he’d drank this morning hadn’t helped.
Yoongi had found Professor Lee on the top floor of the library at one of the large group tables nodding off, surrounded by other grading and looking a little haggard. He couldn’t really judge, as he was sure his eyes had similar bags and his hair was just as messy. And, if he had worn a shirt with buttons today, he probably would have put them in the wrong holes too.
Standing at the exit to the library, he was so exhausted that he was shaking, or maybe he was so caffeinated he was shaking. Either way, he didn’t have any desire to bring these final projects back into the library, run to the nearest convenience store to buy an umbrella, and then come back to get them again. For starters, he was fucking lazy. In addition, he didn’t run.
He glared out at the rain, wondering if he should just wait for it to stop. He could go up to the top floor of the library and take a nap. It wouldn’t be the first time that a librarian had found him sleeping on one of the student tables, but he doubted Professor Lee would be as amused.
Yoongi didn’t want to risk his surprisingly shining record as a TA (and his future personal reference letter) by being caught sleeping on the job. If he didn’t get these to the academic office in the music building by 5pm, it would close and he’d have to hand them in tomorrow. Then he’d have to tell Professor Lee that she’d wasted her time getting them graded this early, at noon on Friday, when Yoongi knew for certain that her grading wasn’t due until next Thursday.
He sighed and felt his posture slump inwards, his mouth drawing out into a small pout. He’d have to go get an umbrella and come back. There wasn’t a way around it. The Omega instincts in him wanted to whine at the inconvenience, and Yoongi had to fight the temptation.
He had just resigned himself to giving the final projects back to Professor Lee and running to a buy an umbrella when someone said, “Here. Take this.”
Yoongi reached out a hand without thinking as a black umbrella handle came into view. He wanted one so badly, and he couldn’t help but grab onto it.
But his exhausted brain took a while to catch up to his body, and Yoongi blinked down at the black umbrella in his hand in confusion even though he knew how it got there. It had just seemed to happen so quickly. Or maybe it hadn’t. He could now see it happening again in slow motion.
He really needed to sleep.
Eventually Yoongi looked up to see that the umbrella had been given to him by Jeon Jungkook—one of the students whose final projects he was holding in his other hand. The boy was watching Yoongi stand there with wide eyes, like he was also surprised that Yoongi was now holding his umbrella.
Yoongi hadn’t interacted with Jungkook much. He’d never come to Yoongi’s office hours, and he never spoke up in the few classes that Yoongi had taught. He hadn’t even heard much about him, as many of the other students in the class tended to give Jungkook a wide berth. But his homework had always been turned in, and well done and thoughtful. Yoongi could tell that the boy loved music.
Professor Lee definitely had nice things to say about him. Jungkook had turned in what he’d labeled as a pop ballad for one of his later projects and convinced Professor Lee to allow him to add vocals. Yoongi had handed back the assignment in class and instead of writing Mainstream on the assignment—as she did with most pop songs, not necessarily as a criticism but as something for the artist to keep in mind—she’d written I don’t know what this is, but it’s not a pop ballad.
Yoongi had at first thought it was a criticism, but Jungkook had gotten one of the highest grades in the class. To say Yoongi had been curious would be an understatement.
When he’d asked about it, Professor Lee had told him that the song was indeed about love and could be considered pop, but that labeling it as a pop ballad did it an injustice. Yoongi hadn’t known what to make of that, and still had no idea what the song had been like other than its name, Euphoria.
Yoongi also had no idea what to make of this. It wasn’t like Jungkook was holding a second umbrella that he could use for himself.
Jungkook’s wide-eyed expression was morphing into a frown of concern as he looked Yoongi up and down. And, when Yoongi held out the umbrella for Jungkook to take back, the other boy stepped away.
As much as he would love to take Jungkook’s umbrella, Yoongi was pretty sure it would be seen as an abuse of power. He had been told firmly when he started his position as a TA that he wasn’t allowed to show signs of favoritism or accept any gifts from students—not even a stick of gum.
“No, thanks. I don’t need one,” Yoongi said, reluctantly holding the umbrella out farther towards Jungkook.
“Yes, you do,” Jungkook said, nodding in the direction of the pouring rain. At this point, if Jungkook hadn’t been one of Yoongi’s students, Yoongi would have used the umbrella with no qualms. Because screw him, he offered.
“I literally can’t take this,” Yoongi said, frowning. “I’m your TA.”
“Not anymore,” Jungkook said, pulling up his hood and looking out into the rain with the determination of someone who was ready to bolt.
“Jungkook-” Yoongi began, but the other boy was already running out into the downpour.
“Just throw it away if you don’t want it!” Jungkook yelled over his shoulder, his words muffled by rain and distance. Damn the kid could run fast.
He was gone before Yoongi could think of a reply, leaving Yoongi with his umbrella and the lingering scent of fellow Omega. As Yoongi breathed in again, he could tell it was actually multiple Omega scents.
The scents were so mixed that Yoongi couldn’t tell where one ended and another began. He could just make out the sweet scents of bread baking, of freshly cut grass, of warm vanilla and maple, and of something citrusy that maybe he could name if he wasn’t so tired.
He wanted to be warm and nestled in bed so badly. He wanted to be lulled to sleep by the rain. He wanted to be done with this semester. He wanted to rest.
And he definitely didn't want to throw away the umbrella.
He was actually so grateful to have it that he could cry. He doubted anyone would even look twice. People walked around with tears in their eyes during finals week all the time. Such was life. Such was college.
He shrugged and opened Jungkook’s umbrella. The other boy was right anyway. Yoongi was literally holding his graded final assignment. The time where favoritism could affect Yoongi’s influence on Jungkook’s grade in the class had passed.
He stepped out into the rain and was met again with the Omega scents that Jungkook had left behind. The combination of the scents was odd, but Yoongi actually quite liked it. It reminded him of a bakery. It made him think of the little hole-in-the-wall bakery that Jin worked at, which sold freshly-made baked goods.
As Yoongi walked to the music building, he wondered which of the scents belonged to Jungkook. He hadn’t known the other boy was an Omega. Jungkook usually wore scent blockers, so Yoongi hadn’t smelt anything on him before today.
He dropped off the final projects to a much too energetic desk clerk in the music building and didn’t even remember walking home. His feet knew where to take him. He had shared the same apartment with Jin and Namjoon for a year and a half.
Yoongi had lived in a single room during his first year of college, but decided to bite the bullet and get a roommate for his second year to save money. Jin had been the luckiest find on the planet. A Beta roommate who liked to cook and pressured Yoongi to stay organized, fed, and functional? Yoongi didn’t even know how badly he needed Jin until he had him.
And with Jin came the frequent presence of Namjoon, Jin’s childhood friend that Yoongi had already tentatively been friends with. As an Omega, he was generally wary of Alphas. Both of his parents and his older brother were Alphas, so he knew better than most how temperamental and territorial they could be when stressed—and to call college stressful was an understatement.
Yoongi hated that, whenever an Alpha was angry, there was a part of him that wanted to bare his neck and do what he could to please them. But Namjoon had proven himself level-headed and so, so thoughtful about his Alpha status that Yoongi still felt bad for mistrusting him in the beginning.
Namjoon had skipped a grade and started college early, so he and Yoongi were actually in the same graduating class. They had taken a lot of classes together, and it was nice to have someone around who was also interested in producing music.
Slowly, Yoongi had warmed up to Namjoon and, by the end of Yoongi and Namjoon’s second year, Yoongi had found himself agreeing to move into a new apartment with Jin and Namjoon for the next school year.
They were better friends than he had ever dreamed for himself. And when they asked him to form a pack with them at the beginning of his third year because they were all struggling without one, he'd said yes. It had been one of the best decisions of his life.
It made the Omega in Yoongi pleased to have packmates watching out for him and to care for, and Yoongi knew it soothed Namjoon’s Alpha side to have people to protect and provide for. Betas always thrived better in packs as well, which gave them an outlet for their peace-keeping instincts. Jin had started to laugh more, telling twice as many of his god-awful jokes than he had before. The three of them worked well together in a pack, they fell into place like a softly played major chord.
Yoongi was aware of keying in the door code for his apartment building, of walking up the flight of stairs to the second floor, of keying in the door code to his apartment, and had just processed that Jin had met him at the door when the Beta spoke.
“Where have you been?” Jin asked, his arms crossed and his voice stern. Jin was wearing an apron, and had his black bangs sweeped off to the side in the way he did when he was cooking. “Your final finished over an hour ago and you promised to come straight home to sleep.”
“TA,” Yoongi said, shaking the rain off Jungkook’s umbrella into the hallway before closing the door. “Final projects.”
“You’re shaking, Yoongi,” Jin said, frowning in disapproval as he watched Yoongi fumble with the laces on his shoes. Yoongi only noticed the wooden spatula in Jin’s hand when the Beta brandished it in Yoongi’s direction like he was going to beat him with it. “If you didn’t eat this morning, I swear I’m going to-”
“I ate... ate stuff,” Yoongi mumbled and Jin’s posture relaxed slightly. The familiar smell of their apartment was making him even sleepier. Jin’s scent smelled like roses and cotton, and Namjoon’s scent of burning pine hung the air too. He must have just been in the room. Breathing in the combination of his packmates’ scents was like curling up in front of a warm fire, and it soothed Yoongi more than anything else.
“Tired,” he said.
“Wow, what a surprise,” Jin said, his voice full of sarcasm. He herded Yoongi towards the hall that led to the room he shared with Jin. “I can’t believe you’ve been awake for so long that you’ve lost the ability to speak in complete sentences.”
Yoongi shut his eyes and let Jin fully lead him down the hall, his Omega instincts content to let someone they trusted so much take care of him. Yoongi usually didn’t play into these instincts, but he couldn’t be bothered to try to stay awake enough to take care of himself any longer.
Something poked his arm, probably the spatula, and Jin said, “Take your jacket off.” Yoongi shrugged off the jacket and was promptly pushed into bed.
“I’m sorry,” Yoongi said as Jin pushed his shoulder until he was lying on his back. He knew Jin was angry with him for not taking care of himself. He whined when Jin didn’t respond, his instincts not liking that Jin was upset with him.
“Shh,” Jin said, and Yoongi felt his duvet being placed on top of him. Jin's voice was softer as he smoothed down the duvet, his touch gentle. “It’s okay, Yoongi. Just sleep now.”
“Okay,” Yoongi said, and he nuzzled his face into his pillow. He suddenly had the urge to have another and fumbled around his bed for one until Jin placed a pillow into his hands, then he hugged it to himself.
It smelled like Jin, and a little like Namjoon. It smelled like home and everything that had proven to be good in his world. A purr rose up in his throat as he inhaled the smell and he let it rumble softly in his chest, a little delirious now and so close to sleep he didn’t feel like he was even still awake. The rain was pattering against the window, accompanied by the intermittent sound of distant thunder. It was Yoongi's favorite lullaby.
Jin chuckled. “You usually only purr like this when you’re drunk.”
“Love this smell,” Yoongi said in explanation, and the last thing Yoongi processed before sleep was the sound of Jin’s soft sigh.
***
Like almost every college student, Yoongi loved the break between semesters. With summer break came his summer job, where Yoongi practically ran a small record store because his boss was an adrenaline junkie who liked to spend his summers traveling.
The three week break between semesters, however, was responsibility free. It was also the only time Yoongi ever got to be as introverted as he always wanted to be. And this was his last one.
He would graduate after the next semester and he’d have to get a job that wasn’t only for summers. He’d have to get something full time with health insurance and benefits and paid time off and all that other shit that he didn’t plan on worrying about for a few more months.
He’d spent his last two semester breaks much like he was spending this one—with his only ventures outside of his apartment being his daily coffee at Namjoon’s work.
Namjoon worked at a coffee shop that doubled as a used book store called the Coffee Nook. It suited Namjoon perfectly, as he was allowed to take books off the shelves and read when he didn’t have any customers in line for the cash register.
Yoongi’s coffee usually turned into coffees, and he liked to bring his laptop with him and work on his music in a fresh space. Sometimes he came in the afternoon and lost track of time, not leaving until Namjoon approached his table with a fond smile after he got off work.
Yoongi was only a week into his break, waiting for Namjoon to make his coffee, when his plans of being lazy and introverted for three weeks were slightly dashed.
He got bored waiting and had just picked up Namjoon's book to read the back cover when Namjoon spoke to him from behind the espresso machine.
“I forgot to tell you that Creed sent me a message,” Namjoon said, craning his neck so he could see Yoongi on the other side of the counter. The Alpha's dark brown hair looked messy, but Yoongi knew he styled it that way on purpose with the green bottle of hair gel on their bathroom shelf.
Creed was a middle-aged Alpha who owned a club called The Loophole that let ameteur artists perform every Wednesday night. Yoongi and Namjoon had performed their music there before, frequently enough that Creed had come to know them by name.
“Oh?” Yoongi said, still distracted by the description on the back cover of Namjoon’s book. “Namjoon, I can’t believe you’re reading about whales again. ”
Namjoon came back into view with Yoongi’s coffee in hand and with a look of wide-eyed excitement.
“Because they’re fascinating, hyung. I don’t think we’ll ever understand them. Whale song is a system of communication that is so complex and beautiful and musical. It can repeat like a chorus and they can sing together from miles away,” Namjoon said, setting Yoongi’s coffee on the counter.
Yoongi was about to tell Namjoon that he had told Yoongi all of this before, in detail, on at least five occasions. But his own expression or Namjoon’s memory must have beat him to it because Namjoon shook his head and said, “Sorry. But, anyway, the owner of The Loophole sent me a message and he wants us to perform tonight.”
“Tonight?” Yoongi asked, frowning as Namjoon snapped the plastic lid onto his coffee. “Why? What time?”
“Apparently two acts canceled and he wants us to fill the lost time. He said he can give us twenty minutes,” Namjoon said.
Yoongi raised his eyebrows. Creed was known for packing in so many acts that most barely got five minutes on stage.
“He’s giving us twenty minutes?” Yoongi asked.
“I think more acts canceled than he wants to admit,” Namjoon said. “It’s so close to Christmas I bet people are just going home or making other plans, and it’s not like he pays us.”
“I usually like to have more notice,” Yoongi said as Namjoon slid his coffee across the counter. Yoongi liked performing, but he didn’t like the crowds. He usually had to prepare himself to be in crowded, loud places. There was a reason he was a Music Production major and not a Music Performance major.
“I know, hyung,” Namjoon said, leaning against the counter. “But with twenty minutes, we can both perform more than one song. We haven’t been able to do that before.”
Yoongi hesitated. He had stopped performing as much after he’d built up a following for his music on his SoundCloud. Lately, he had just been taking small jobs playing the piano as a fill-in for restaurants or hotels to get some extra money.
Now that he thought about it, he actually hadn’t performed at The Loophole in months. It probably wasn’t too smart to wait much longer if he still wanted Creed to give him slots in the future. Namjoon was watching him nervously, and Yoongi realized that Namjoon probably really wanted to perform. Having so much time on stage at The Loophole would bring attention to their music.
“Alright,” Yoongi said. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”
“Yeah?” Namjoon said, his eyes brightening. “Great! I’ll text Creed and let Jin know.”
“Okay,” Yoongi said. He picked up his coffee and pointed at his corner. “I’m going to go sit down. Let me know what time we’re performing.”
“Will do,” Namjoon said with a nod.
Yoongi sat down and took a sip of his coffee. It was his usual, a caramel latte, and he never got tired of it. Halfway through his cup of coffee, Yoongi’s phone buzzed with a message.
Namjoon: Creed wants us for twenty minutes at 10:30. Jin is coming to watch.
Yoongi sent Namjoon a thumbs-up in reply.
As he set his phone back down, Yoongi realized that he was a little excited to perform again. He knew he was good at it. Every time he performed, a part of him felt at home on the stage. And the part of him that was hesitant about the atmosphere at the club was outweighed by the part of him that wanted to do this for Namjoon, for their music.
He opened his SoundCloud on his laptop and tried to pick out the songs he wanted to perform. He sometimes felt like he could rap his lyrics in his sleep, but he liked to listen to his songs at least a few times before he performed them. It was a habit he had picked up from Namjoon, who did it because fortune favors the prepared mind, hyung. I might break a microphone stand again, but I don’t want to forget one line.
***
From the outside, The Loophole looked like a dump. The sign hung crooked, the neon lights flickered, the grey concrete walls were covered in graffiti, and the bouncers always wore sunglasses that Jin made fun of. But inside, it was nice. The floors were smooth light-grey hardwood and the walls were covered in a shiny black paint that glittered in the flashing lights.
It had two different sides to it and Yoongi liked that, how it usually surprised people, how it had two souls.
As soon as they got inside the club, Jin went off to get a beer, shouting that he’d meet them up front.
Yoongi followed closely behind Namjoon through the crowd towards the stage. The room already smelt like smoke and beer, and Creed must have opened a window because the air seemed colder than usual.
An Alpha that smelt like cloves stumbled into him, apologized, and then leered when he caught Yoongi’s scent. Yoongi hated when Alphas acted like no one was attractive unless they smelt like an Omega. He hated how it sometimes intruded into his thoughts and made him wonder if his scent was the only appealing thing about him.
“You here to watch the live shows?” the Alpha asked, leaning too close for Yoongi’s liking, but Yoongi could admit that most people would think he was keeping a respectable distance. Yoongi just valued personal space more than the average person.
“No,” Yoongi said shortly and kept walking after Namjoon. The Alpha didn’t follow him, but Yoongi still had to shake off the interaction. He was usually rude on purpose to anyone who even half looked like they were flirting, but it made the Omega in him that wanted to please and submit feel guilty.
It was a busier night than usual because the college kids were all on break. There were two girls performing a pop song on stage—a cover of something that Yoongi vaguely recognized. He felt like they had sped it up a little, and they had half of the room dancing.
When they got to the stage, Namjoon had a shouted conversation with Creed and handed him the USB with their set list on it. Creed had put on muscle since Yoongi had last seen him, and it made him look more intimidating than he usually did. He already towered over most people, but now it looked like he could bench press them too. He seemed to be growing out his beard again, was wearing washed-out jean shorts even though it was the middle of winter, and when he turned around Yoongi could see that the back of his baseball cap said Fuck Off.
Yoongi felt a hand on his elbow and turned to see that Jin had already bought himself a beer and caught up with them.
“What time is it?” Yoongi asked, tapping the back of his wrist in case Jin couldn’t hear him.
“I think it’s almost 10:20!” Jin said.
Namjoon came over to them and and shouted, “We’re next!”
“Nice!” Jin said, doing a body roll that had Namjoon laughing. “I’m ready to scream and pretend to be your groupie!”
Jin had Namjoon doing body rolls with him by the time the two girls were done performing, and Yoongi was pretending he didn’t know them. Namjoon climbed the stage with a smile on his face to give a brief introduction and tell the crowd where they could find their music, as Yoongi prefered to just perform and not have to say anything else.
Yoongi leaned his hip against the wall next to the stage while Namjoon performed, holding his hands up to cup his mouth and cheer whenever Namjoon looked his way. Jin had pushed his way in front of the center stage and was holding up his beer as he danced. The brown glass bottle glinted in the lights overhead. Yoongi watch Jin throw back his head and shout something up at Namjoon, loving how Jin always did what he wanted with no trace of embarrassment.
Namjoon was on fire, and did one of his raps so fiercely that Yoongi almost believed he was pissed about something. By the time Namjoon was finished, enough of the crowd was paying attention that he got a loud round of cheers and applause. He mentioned where to find their music again on SoundCloud and handed Yoongi the microphone as he climbed down the steps of the stage.
Yoongi nodded politely to the crowd as he took the stage. He saw a few heads tilted in curiosity. He knew he didn’t really look the part of a rapper today, especially in contrast with the leather jacket and cap Namjoon had worn. Yoongi had just put on his ripped jeans and a black hoodie, and he really needed to get himself to a hairdresser. There had to be an inch of black roots grown into his light blonde hair, and he needed a haircut.
He shook his hair out of his eyes as he waited for his first beat to drop, angry at himself for the sudden lack of confidence. Who cared what he looked like? Anyone who did care could take a hint from Creed and fuck off.
When the music started, Yoongi fell so easily into the performance that he forgot almost everything else. He got a loud round of cheers after the first verse, where he rapped so fast that sometimes he stumbled on the words, and encouraged the crowd to start jumping in the chorus.
He must have moved around the stage more than he realized and was panting by the time the first song was done. He made eye contact with the shocked-looking Alpha who had spoken to him earlier in the crowd, and quickly broke it. Namjoon had made his way to Jin in front of center stage, and they were both doing body rolls again.
He laughed when the next song started and he could hear Jin hollering something he couldn’t make out over the noise of the crowd. He’d picked First Love for his second song, both because he knew it was Jin’s favorite and because he liked how it was more positive than his other stuff.
It started slow, and Yoongi used the time to walk the stage and do what he could to interact with the crowd. Yoongi always felt emotional singing this song. He was still disappointed that he had stopped playing piano for so many years, and still grateful for the way it had accepted him back.
He saw this song, First Love, as a promise. Never again, he thought to himself, getting down on one knee to serenade Namjoon and Jin. Never again would he forget that piano had made him who he was, that his love of music had started with a long stretch of black and white keys.
Jin was screaming something, Namjoon was laughing, and Yoongi appreciated them both so much. He easily stole Jin’s beer and stood back up to finish the slow ending to the song. In one of the lulls, he took a swig of Jin’s beer, smirking at the thought of the Beta’s affronted expression.
It was then that he saw him.
Jeon Jungkook was in the back of the room, sitting on a bar stool at one of the high tables and watching Yoongi with a blank expression of shock that had his mouth hanging open. His mouth snapped closed when he noticed Yoongi looking his way.
First year college students rarely came here, as Creed rarely allowed people to drink past their limit, but Yoongi didn’t care about that. He did care that Jungkook was young, and seemed to be alone. The Loophole wasn’t exactly a dangerous place to be, but no club was the best place for a young Omega to be alone.
Yoongi pulled his attention away from Jungkook and forced himself to focus on the performance. By the end of the song, Yoongi saw with relief that two boys who seemed to be Jungkook’s age had joined him at his table. The shorter of the two had pink hair, and was poking Jungkook on the cheek and laughing while Jungkook tried to swat his hand away without looking. The other boy at Jungkook’s table was tall, with light brown hair and a sweat band across his forehead, and he was laughing too.
Yoongi could see the familiarity between them, felt comforted in the way the taller boy took a drink from Jungkook’s water without asking. He’d be fine, Yoongi decided, pushing down his nervousness.
Jungkook’s gaze was focused entirely on Yoongi as he raised a hand in thanks for the cheers and applause at the end of his performance. There was something heady in his eyes that Yoongi could feel all the way from across the room, and the physicality of being so intensely looked at had heat rising to his face.
Yoongi handed the microphone to Creed with nod as he left the stage and wondered, suddenly, if he should give the kid back his umbrella. He wasn’t sure if he even knew where it was.
He waited for Jin and Namjoon to fight their way towards him through the crowd. Namjoon got there first and said, “You made it look easy up there!”
Yoongi smiled, warmed at the compliment, and shouted, “So did you! You looked fucking pissed.”
Namjoon laughed as Jin reached them and stole back his beer.
***
“You guys should perform more often,” Jin said, slumped in the back seat of a taxi next to Yoongi on their way back home. “It’s the only time we ever have fun.”
“Come on, that’s not true,” Namjoon said from the passenger seat.
Yoongi leaned his head against the window. He’d convinced them to leave The Loophole after Jin had finished his beer—mostly because it had gotten too crowded for him and partly because he wanted to avoid Jungkook. Something about the other Omega made him feel unsure.
“Namjoon, yesterday you told me that we couldn’t watch a movie because 9pm was too late to start one,” Jin deadpanned.
“Because I knew you had the morning shift at the bakery and needed to get up at 6am, hyung! Not because I can’t have fun,” Namjoon said. Yoongi knew both Namjoon and Jin were shaking their heads now without looking.
Jin had started working at different bakeries once he’d graduated from culinary school, and his dream was to one day open one of his own.
“Semantics,” Jin said. “We’re boring and old. The most exciting thing Yoongi did the past week was decide to scramble his eggs on Saturday morning.”
“Fuck you,” Yoongi said. “I’m on break.”
Jin kept talking like Yoongi hadn’t spoken. “And I was excited! I walked in and thought Wow! Scrambled eggs! Like it was some wild, unexpected morning. I even texted you about it, and you came out of your room to see it for yourself.”
“I know,” Namjoon said. “To be fair, Yoongi almost never eats scrambled eggs.”
Yoongi remembered Namjoon stumbling into their kitchen a few mornings ago, amused and only half dressed. He had loitered around the kitchen with Jin, talking in hushed whispers and chuckling. Yoongi had wondered what that had been about. At the time, he hadn’t been awake long enough or had enough coffee in him to ask.
“I’m just saying, if scrambled eggs are exciting, then we don’t have enough fun,” Jin said.
Namjoon seemed to have no argument for this and Jin nodded in satisfaction.
“Yoongi,” Jin said, bumping him with his elbow. “I have a very important question for you.”
Yoongi didn’t want to move, but he turned his head towards Jin, straining his neck a little to see his face.
With a seriousness that already had Yoongi suspicious, Jin cleared his throat. Then he asked, “What day do eggs hate the most?”
Namjoon snorted from the passenger seat and Yoongi let out a sigh of exasperation.
“Fry-day,” Jin said, then burst into laughter. His high and squeaky laugh filled the car, and the taxi driver joined in, though it was unclear if the short, stocky man was laughing at Jin’s joke or at Jin’s laugh. However, it was clear that Yoongi wanted to bang his head against the window.
“Wait, wait,” Jin said, pulling himself together long enough to ask. “Who tells the best egg jokes?”
“Shut up,” Yoongi said, pulling his legs up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them.
“I love how my jokes make you crave the fetal position,” Jin said, reaching forward to ruffle Yoongi’s hair in a move that Yoongi wouldn’t allow in daylight.
“Your jokes make me crave death,” Yoongi said, leaning his head back against the window.
“Namjoon,” Jin said, giving up on Yoongi. “Who tells the best egg jokes?”
“Umm,” Namjoon said, turning around in his seat to look at Jin. “You?”
“Obviously,” Jin said. “But no. It’s comedi-hens .”
Jin leaned against the car door as he laughed this time, slapping a hand on his leg. The taxi driver also found this especially funny and even Namjoon laughed this time.
“Ah, eggs puns,” Jin said, after taking a deep breath. “Aren’t they most egg-citing?”
This caused another round of laughter from Jin. Namjoon snorted again, bumping his head back against the seat.
Yoongi hugged his knees harder and set his face into a frown, but he fought a smile the whole way home.
***
The bell on the door to The Coffee Nook jingled as Yoongi stepped inside about a week later. He smiled at the rush of warm air, taking in the smell of old paper and ground coffee beans.
Yoongi felt his posture relaxing as he warmed up, and he took off his gloves and put them into his laptop bag. It was an unexpectedly cold day. He rubbed his fingers together, trying to push the warmth back into his hands.
Namjoon wasn’t working today, but that had never stopped Yoongi from coming here in the past. He’d gotten to know all of the baristas that worked here, though the only other barista he would consider a friend was Hoseok. The bright, energetic Beta always managed to make him smile, which was something Yoongi had always valued in people.
Sometimes, Hoseok reminded him of his mother. She woke up happy in a way Yoongi would never understand. He had taken after his father in that aspect.
Yoongi could see Hoseok sorting through a box of books on the counter by the register, an easy smile on his face, his dark brown hair was wavy in a way that always made him look like he'd just stepped indoors on a windy day.
Yoongi got in line behind the old man who appeared to be selling the box of books, grinning as the man leaning forward to peer into the box too.
“Would you like your payment in cash or by gift card?” Hoseok asked, smiling up at the old man as he waited for a response. The old man smelt like cinnamon and dandelions, and the Omega and Beta scent surrounding him was so mixed that Yoongi couldn’t even begin to guess his dynamic.
“What can I get with a gift card?” The old man asked, rocking back on his heels, his voice low and raspy.
“If you get a gift card,” Hoseok said, pointing to the holiday-themed gift cards on the counter, “the store pays you an extra ten percent and you can use it to buy coffee and books here. We have a snowman gift card right now that’s adorable.”
Hoseok picked up one of the snowman gift cards and laughed as he pointed at the cartoon snowman on the shiny plastic, which appeared to be sneezing into wrapping paper.
“Oh? I’ll do that then,” the old man said. He patted a few of his pockets and then took out his wallet.
The cinnamon in the man’s scent was making Yoongi crave the Coffee Nook’s cinnamon latte. Maybe he’d switch up his usual today.
Yoongi watched Hoseok ring up the old man with a small frown. Every time he saw Hoseok interact with new people, he wondered what it was like to be able to smile at people so easily—like it didn’t cost anything, like joy was so plentiful it was something that could be handed out to strangers in excess.
“Yoongi-hyung!” Hoseok said excitedly when he saw him, bouncing in place. “I haven’t seen you in forever!”
“You saw me on Sunday,” Yoongi said, but he grinned at Hoseok in spite of himself.
“Forever, ” Hoseok repeated. “So much has happened between then, it might as well have been a year ago.”
“What happened?” Yoongi asked.
Hoseok leaned forward over the counter, like he was going to whisper a secret, so Yoongi leaned forward too.
“An Omega asked me to court him. He gave me a courting bracelet to use and everything,” Hoseok said quietly, the corners of his mouth tilted upward in a pleased smile.
“What did you say?” Yoongi asked. It wasn’t unheard of for Omegas to ask others to court them, but it didn’t happen often. It was traditional for Alphas and Betas to ask Omegas, giving them a matching courting bracelet to wear as a symbol of their mutual unavailability.
“I said yes,” Hoseok said, eyes wide. “I was surprised, but I was already considering asking him out myself. I figured we’d go on a few dates first, but he beat me to it.”
“He wanted to go straight to courting?” Yoongi asked. Yoongi couldn’t imagine courting someone he didn’t know well. Courting triggered an instinctual connection that dating did not.
“We’re friends,” Hoseok said, his cheeks coloring a little bit. “His packmates are both dance majors, and they noticed that I don’t have a pack here, so...”
Yoongi felt a pang at that. Now that he had a pack with Jin and Namjoon, he didn’t like to imagine living without them. He hadn’t known that Hoseok didn’t have one.
“When they do pack bonding,” Hoseok said, “they invite me.” His mouth was turned up in a small smile, and he looked like he still couldn’t believe it. Pack bonding was an activity that was almost exclusively done between members of the same pack.
Namjoon insisted that they do pack bonding at least once a week, which usually just consisted of them huddling together on the floor and watching a movie. Being the Omega of the pack, Yoongi usually got the most attention during pack bonding—a hand in his hair, an arm around his waist, the occasional light scenting—but that was just Jin and Namjoon’s instincts making them ensure Yoongi felt safe and comfortable.
At the end of the day, Yoongi always felt like it was Jin that actually benefited from pack bonding the most. Sometimes he even crawled into Yoongi’s bed in the middle of the night and asked to be held. He had grown up in a really close pack, and Yoongi knew he missed it.
“Do you think they are going to invite you into their pack?” Yoongi asked.
“Honestly?” Hoseok said. “I really, really hope so. And they don’t have a Beta so it will be an easy transition, I think.”
People of the same dynamics usually were the ones who clashed in packs. Their instincts asked them to attribute the same things, and sometimes they didn’t like the feeling that someone else was doing it better than they were. It affected Alphas the most, especially when it came to territory and protection, but Betas and Omegas were known to clash as well. All the dynamics fell into an inter-pack heirachy, with a lead Omega and Beta eventually emerging alongside the pack Alpha, but it had never been something Yoongi's own pack had to worry about.
“What’s his name?” Yoongi asked.
Hoseok sighed, leaning onto one elbow with a fond smile. “My courtmate? His name is Taehyung. He’s an Art and Photography double major. He’s beautiful, mind and body, and he smells like pancakes.”
Yoongi couldn’t help but laugh.
“He does!” Hoseok said. “He smells like maple and vanilla. I smell like oranges and honey. Put us together, and you have a whole breakfast.”
“Well,” Yoongi said. “I hope everything works out with you and pancake boy.”
“Me too,” Hoseok said, standing back up straight. “Will you have your usual again today, hyung? A caramel latte? You’re holding up the line.”
Yoongi looked back behind him quickly, guilt already rising at the idea of keeping someone else waiting, but no one was there. Yoongi covered his relief in a frown as he turned back around.
“Give me a cinnamon latte and go screw yourself,” Yoongi said.
Hoseok laughed as he disappeared behind the espresso machine.
Yoongi had been sitting at his table in the corner for about an hour when Hoseok came over, whining about being bored. After a few minutes of begging from Hoseok, coupled by a promise to give Yoongi a free cup of coffee, Yoongi found himself seated at the beat-up piano in the front of the shop playing holiday music.
He always hated the first minute of playing the piano for a crowd, even for the small crowd of six currently seated in the Coffee Nook. He hated how he could feel their eyes on him, feel the attention grip onto his skin like a vice. After the first minute, however, he usually forgot people were watching.
He played through all the holiday songs he knew. Hoseok was seated backwards next to him on the piano bench, occasionally making requests and getting up to take people’s orders or help them find books.
Once he ran out of holiday songs, Yoongi paused.
“You can stop if you want,” Hoseok said. “I’m grateful you played even one song.”
Yoongi looked over at Hoseok, at the calm, happy shine in his eyes. Yoongi could pretend all he wanted, but his Omega instincts loved making people happy. He could indulge them today, if only to make Hoseok smile a little longer.
“One more,” Yoongi said. He turned back to the piano and started one of his favorite songs to play—River Flows in You.
Hoseok inhaled loudly when he heard the first few notes. “I love this song,” he said softly.
“Me too,” Yoongi said, and then he shut his eyes. This song was harder than the others he had played, and it took more of his concentration. Halfway through, the bell on the door jingled and Yoongi was vaguely aware of Hoseok getting up and shushing someone.
Yoongi finished the song’s last few slow notes, and then lifted his hands from the keys, releasing a long breath. This song always made him ache for something he couldn’t name, left him feeling soft.
When he opened his eyes, he turned to see Hoseok was standing with his arms around the waist of a tall boy in a pair of tight black and white checkered pants, a puffy red winter coat, and matching red beanie.
Hoseok’s chin was tucked over the boy’s shoulder, the boy had his hands folded over Hoseok's on his stomach, and they both were smiling at him in a way that made Yoongi fidget.
“That was amazing, hyung,” Hoseok said.
“It wasn’t,” Yoongi denied immediately. Jin would chastise him for not taking a compliment, but it was simply his reflex. He was good, but he wasn’t amazing.
“It was,” the boy in Hoseok arms said. “I wish I’d heard the whole thing.”
Yoongi pursed his lips and then said, “Thank you.” It was stiff, but he hoped it sounded sincere.
“Yoongi-hyung,” Hoseok said. “This is Taehyung. He hangs my sun and stars.”
Taehyung blushed deeply and looked away in a sudden shyness that endeared Yoongi to him immediately. Taehyung was more beautiful than Yoongi had been expecting. Not that Hoseok was ugly by any means. Taehyung was just... he looked like he could easily wake up one day and decide to become a model.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Yoongi said to Taehyung. Then he made eye contact with Hoseok. “You’re so cheesy.”
“I know. And this,” Hoseok said, nodding in the direction of the door, “is Jungkook and Jimin. They’re Tae’s packmates and they dance with me.”
Yoongi turned around on the piano bench and froze when he made eye contact with Jeon Jungkook. He was staring at Yoongi with wide eyes, and looked just as surprised to see him. There was another boy next to him—the short boy with pink hair that Yoongi had seen with Jungkook at The Loophole. Taehyung must be the other boy that Yoongi had seen at his table.
Jimin had the hood of his jacket up, the bangs of his pink hair parted across his forehead, and he was so bundled up in a cashmere scarf that only half of his face was visible. Jimin held up a hand to Yoongi in greeting, and only the tips of his fingers poked out of his sleeves.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Yoongi said to Jimin, avoiding the stare Jungkook was giving him.
“It’s nice to meet you too, Yoongi-si,” Jimin said. His voice was high and soft. Yoongi couldn’t help but think that he was Namjoon’s type—Namjoon always fell for the cute, adorable, almost-too-friendly type.
Taehyung was whispering something to Hoseok, who giggled. Jimin glanced at Jungkook, and then elbowed him hard in the side.
Jungkook flinched and then blurted out, “We’ve met.”
“We have,” Yoongi said, forcing himself to look at Jungkook. “I thought you were a Music Production major.”
“I’m not,” Jungkook said. He looked terrified, and Yoongi tried to look as non-threatening as possible.
“He’s a double major,” Taehyung said, looking amused. “Dance and film. He just likes to take random classes.”
Namjoon did the same thing. He was a Music Production major, but he took classes all over the school—philosophy, linguistics, poetry, literature, physics, statistics. Namjoon had taken a little bit of everything. Yoongi had no idea how he’d managed to still be set to graduate on time.
“Multi-talented then,” Yoongi said to Jungkook, who blushed.
“If you think so,” Jungkook said, and then he winced, turning away to look out the window.
Taehyung and Jimin looked so ready to start laughing that Yoongi felt like he was missing the joke. He felt awkward as he stood up from the piano. Then felt even more awkward as he pushed the piano bench back in with his shin, and the wooden legs grated against the tiled floor.
“I’m done playing,” he told Hoseok. “Don’t forget my coffee.”
“I’d never,” Hoseok said, winking.
Yoongi nodded to Taehyung and then to Jimin and Jungkook.
“It was nice to meet you all,” he said. The Omega scents he’d smelt on Jungkook before hung around all of them—warm bread, vanilla, grass, maple, and lemon. He knew now that the the maple and vanilla scents belonged to Taehyung, so the remainder must belong to Jungkook and Jimin.
He flicked Hoseok on the forehead. “Thanks for taking care of this one.”
He watched Hoseok clap a hand to his forehead, and then he fled back to his corner table to the sound of Hoseok saying, “Ow, hyung! That hurt!”
Yoongi watched from his table as Hoseok ushered the three boys towards the register and started making them drinks. Then he forced himself to look away so he wouldn’t be caught staring.
He was working on a new song, an instrumental piano piece this time, which was something he had never done before. He had been looking over his schedule for his final semester last night and realized that he wouldn’t be seeing Professor Lee every day anymore.
He’d miss her.
He thought, if he could manage it, he could write her a piano piece—something that would play towards her love of classical music. He wanted to give a gift to thank her for the faith she had always given him, for the honor of being chosen to be her TA and to help teach one of her classes.
He had recorded the start of a few ideas on his piano last night, and now he was picking them apart to see which was best.
He was in the middle of listening to one of them when a coffee cup was placed next to his computer. He looked up to thank Hoseok, and tensed when he saw that it was not Hoseok, but Jungkook.
Yoongi took off his headphones, letting them hang around his neck.
“Thank you,” he said.
“Hoseok-hyung told me to bring it over,” Jungkook said, looking back to where Hoseok, Jimin, and Taehyung were all watching them from by the register. They all looked away quickly like they hadn’t been. Jimin and Taehyung now held coffee cups too, and there was another cup on the counter that seemed to be Jungkook’s.
“Thank you,” Yoongi repeated, not sure what else to say.
Jungkook nodded a few times and then asked, “Can I sit?”
“Sure,” Yoongi said, gesturing to the seat across from him.
Jungkook sat down, slinging a backpack off his shoulder that Yoongi hadn’t noticed and putting it in the seat next to him. He put his phone and wallet on the corner of the table, then he looked at Yoongi and quickly away again.
Yoongi could still hear piano music coming out of his headphones and he paused the song on his computer. Jungkook kept opening and closing his mouth like he had something to say, but kept thinking better of it.
He took a sip of his coffee as he waited for Jungkook to speak. It was a caramel latte, his usual, which was exactly what he would have told Hoseok he wanted. The Beta knew him too well, at least when it came to how he liked his coffee.
“Would you...” Jungkook trailed off, his face scrunching into a frown as he stared down at the coffee in Yoongi’s hands. His eyes flicked briefly to Yoongi’s again, who hoped his face showed polite interest and not the remaining shock he felt that someone had actually sat down at his table while he was still sitting at it.
Jungkook’s gaze went from Yoongi’s face to the headphones around his neck to his laptop humming on the table.
Then Jungkook inhaled deeply and asked, “Would you be willing to teach me how to play the piano?”
Looking back, Yoongi would never be sure what he had expected Jeon Jungkook to say—sitting with him that first time in the back corner of the Coffee Nook on a cold late-December day in Seoul—but it wasn’t this.
Avoiding eye contact, head slightly bowed, Jungkook seemed to be unwilling to move a muscle as he waited for Yoongi’s response. It was a simple request, but Yoongi’s breath still caught slightly in his throat in surprise.
“You want me to teach you to play the piano,” Yoongi repeated, just to be sure he’d heard correctly.
“Yes,” Jungkook said, still not looking at him.
“Why?” Yoongi asked.
“Because I’ve always wanted to learn,” Jungkook said. He was tracing a long scratch on the table with his forefinger. Yoongi watched him trace it all the up to Yoongi’s computer, and then back down towards himself.
“Is this about your umbrella? Like a trade or something? Because I’m planning on giving it back to you,” Yoongi said. If Jungkook had hinted that his umbrella came with strings attached, Yoongi would have thrown it at his back like a javelin while he’d run away in the rain.
Jungkook looked him square in the face for the first time. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “You don’t owe me anything for that.”
“I know,” Yoongi said, maybe a little too firmly, because Jungkook leaned forward.
“Really, Yoongi-si,” Jungkook said. “This isn’t about that at all, and you don’t have to give the umbrella back to me. It’s yours. I just have always wanted to learn piano. I’ll pay you if you’ll teach me.”
Yoongi tried to settle down, feeling guilty now that he’d jumped to conclusions.
“Sorry,” Yoongi said.
“No, it's not-” Jungkook said, shaking his head quickly. “I can understand why you thought that. I should have been more clear.”
“It’s not your fault,” Yoongi said, running a hand over his face. Jungkook looked panicked enough that Yoongi felt like he had kicked a puppy. “I tend to assume the worst.”
Before Jungkook could argue about whose fault it was, Yoongi added, “Thank you for that umbrella, by the way. You really saved my ass. And I’m glad you don’t want it back. I was so tired that day that I don’t think I could even figure out which umbrella in my apartment is yours.”
Jungkook smiled and said, “That’s easy. It’ll be the one with an Iron Man sticker on the pole.”
“An Iron Man sticker?” Yoongi asked, confused.
Jungkook winced and blushed, then looked away for a few moments before he said, “It’s a habit from when I was younger. My mom used to make me put stickers on all my school things so I could always tell which ones were mine.”
“Why Iron Man?” Yoongi asked. Jungkook was still blushing and he scrunched up his nose at Yoongi’s question.
“Because I really love Iron Man,” Jungkook said seriously, in a way that made Yoongi think he’d been asked this question one too many times.
Yoongi smiled and Jungkook grinned back at him, his eyes showing his relief. Maybe people teased him for his Iron Man stickers, and the thought made Yoongi want to hiss.
Now that Jungkook had pointed it out, Yoongi started noticing them. He could see an Iron Man sticker on the back of Jungkook’s phone where it laid face down on the table, and on his wallet next to it. There was also one on a pin placed off-center on Jungkook’s backpack, an Iron Man covering whatever the pin’s face originally showed.
They all reminded Yoongi that Jungkook was young. He was in his first year of college, barely six-months out of living with his parents. Yoongi remembers what he was like at that age—so quiet but so hungry for new experiences. Those first two semesters, he had never felt like he was taking in all Seoul had to offer.
And then he remembers Jungkook’s composition project, the not-a-pop-ballad named Euphoria, and thinks, maybe, he could get his hands back on it. If Professor Lee had liked it, Yoongi wanted to hear it too.
“Okay,” Yoongi said. And in his mind’s eye he could practically see Jin nodding in pleased encouragement like he did when he thought Yoongi was being uncharacteristically friendly, could see Namjoon smiling over a book and saying Scientists have shown that generosity makes you a happier person, hyung.
“Okay?” Jungkook repeated. His mouth hung open in a half smile after he said it, like he was frozen between disbelief and happiness.
“Yes. Okay, I’ll teach you,” Yoongi said, nodding to himself. “Once a week, if we can work it in, and if I can tell that you’re not practicing, we stop. I’m not going to waste my time.”
“I’ll practice,” Jungkook said quickly. “I wouldn’t dream of wasting your time.”
He said it so earnestly that Yoongi fidgeted and felt his facing heating up.
“And you don’t have to pay me,” Yoongi said.
“I do,” Jungkook insisted.
Yoongi shook his head, uncomfortable at the idea of asking Jungkook for money, and looked down at his coffee, which sparked an idea.
“Just come to our lessons with coffee and I’ll consider us even,” Yoongi said.
Jungkook's eyes widened again briefly, but then he nodded, beaming now, and said, “Of course. I won’t disappoint you, Yoongi-si. Thank you for agreeing to teach me.”
“If I’m going to be teaching you piano,” Yoongi said, “you can call me hyung.” He was the one avoiding eye contact now, feeling a little off-footed at the happiness radiating off the boy in front of him. He was glad he’d said yes, seeing its result.
“I won’t disappoint you, Yoongi-hyung,” Jungkook said, looking determined, his cheeks colored. Yoongi felt his heart beating faster.
“Just... just let me give you my stupid-ass phone number so we can work out the lesson times later and leave me in peace,” Yoongi said.
“Of course,” Jungkook said, leaping to his feet so quickly that his chair would have toppled over onto the floor if he hadn’t had reflexes fast enough to catch it. He opened his phone and looked up at Yoongi expectantly.
Yoongi rattled off his phone number and made a shooing motion that Jungkook seemed to take to heart, because he picked up his things and left without saying goodbye. Yoongi would have thought he’d upset him if not for the huge grin on Jungkook’s face as he gave Yoongi a nod before walking away.
Yoongi put his headphones back on and concentrated on his music, pretending he couldn’t hear bouts of laughter from the other side of shop.
He felt eyes on him again about an hour later and looked up to see Jungkook hovering in the entrance, the warm air steaming out into the cold night behind him. The sun had gone down completely without Yoongi noticing.
Yoongi couldn’t help but think that, surrounded by the steaming air of the Coffee Nook and shrouded by the dark night, Jeon Jungkook looked the kind of beautiful Yoongi wouldn’t mind seeing again and again.
Jungkook waved goodbye to him and Yoongi nodded, flustered as he gave him a small wave in return. Once Jungkook left, Yoongi made eye contact with Hoseok, who was leaning against the counter behind the register, looking smug.
Yoongi wondered what he’d just gotten himself into.