He had been sitting on the campus coffee shop’s sofa for hours. His butt was beginning to feel sore from lack of movement, and he thought about just giving up on his essay and going to the dance studio to practice with Hoseok. That idea left as quickly as it came, though, because he knew his hyung would send him back here to work.
“Kookie, you have to do this if you want to pass this semester,” he remembered the older male saying.
It’s not that he was unintelligent or anything, but Jungkook really hated this subject. He would often be found in his dorm room, lying on the floor faced down, groaning about how he didn’t even need to know English if he was living in Korea. Hoseok had heard him complain enough times about how letters shouldn’t be silent and what was the point of doing that anyway?
Jungkook would jump at any chance he could to get to excuse himself from studying that horrendous subject – games with Taehyung, practicing his dance, and watching various videos on Youtube. However, after receiving a very stern talk from his teacher about how his grades were failing and how getting at least a ninety on this essay would ensure him a passing grade, the budding photography major decided it was time to focus. He obviously couldn’t work in the dorm since it was the source of all his distractions, and the library didn’t give him access to free WiFi – because let’s face it, Jungkook would need to do a lot of Google Translating.
So that was how he ended up here.
His legs were bouncing up and down as he typed on his laptop, begging him to move. His hands flew as they typed, and a soft groan of frustration could be heard followed by the repeated tapping of the backspace button. He’d been at it for hours, and he hadn’t even reached half of the minimum number of pages yet. He held the laptop at its sides, ready to smash his skull into the keyboard out of anger. His caramel macchiato was finished, and normally, he wouldn’t stay in fear of annoying the staff, but Seokjin understood his situation.
“Hyung,” he called, turning to the man by the counter. “How did you pass English?”
Seokjin gave him a sympathetic smile. He knew the struggles of learning a different language. However, he did have something that gave him the upper hand.
“Well, Jungkookie,” he started, turning overdramatically to the boy. “I have a lit major for a boyfriend.”
Jungkook groaned. He was going to fail, and that would mean taking it again the following semester. He wanted to crawl on the floor and just lay there until his paper would magically finish itself, but he knew that one of his hyungs would eventually pick him up and force him to do it.
“So, you’re telling me I’m going to fail this class because I’m single?” he said, making a show of wiping away his tears, both at the thought of his failure and his loneliness.
“Pretty much,” the older man replied, shrugging. He received a glare in response, but he didn’t seem fazed by it. Leaving his dongsaeng alone, he returned to his work. Jungkook did the same, ordering another macchiato in hopes of making himself hyper and caffeinated enough to spill out two more pages. At some point, while writing, he realized that doing this all over again would be the definition of torture. With newfound determination, his hand flew from the keyboard to the mouse clicking from his paper to Google Translate.
He was making some decent progress, that is until a notification popped up on his laptop, warning him about its impending shut-down due to Low Battery (10% remaining). He fished his charger out of his bag, sticking one end to his device and bending down to plug it in. Unfortunately, he was met with wall.
I could have sworn this seat had an outlet. He thought, still frantically searching for the slits in the wall that would save him. With no luck, he sat up, and bumped his head on the table.
“What did I do to deserve this?” he moaned, as a thud was heard – the sound of his skull colliding with the wooden piece of furniture at each word.
He looked around, surveying the area, and he spotted four outlets – all of them with people seated. The three were full with other students charging their devices, but the one in the corner was free. The boy, he assumed, had his back facing Jungkook. His sweater swallowed him whole, only showing the tips of small delicate fingers. His hair matched his yellow sweater, which made him look like the brightest thing in the room. He was slouching, bent over his phone, with earphones in his ear. He could see the guy making small dance steps while listening to whatever it was on his phone.
It was then Kook decided that he would walk up to the nameless boy, and politely ask if he could switch places with him because he desperately needed to finish his damn paper. As he made his way over, the boy rummaged his bag, and he took out his charger, plugging it into one of the two outlets by his seat. Jungkook ran his hand over his face, groaning inwardly. Did the world hate him? He continued walking to the boy, ready to ask if he could sit with him. He knew sitting with a stranger would be awkward, but like hell was he going to fail this class.
He stood in front of the boy, making a slight coughing sound, since he was currently too immersed in whatever it was on his phone to care about the photography student ready to cry because Low Battery (5% remaining). Jungkook tapped his shoulder, startling the stranger, who looked up at him in surprise.
And there, Jeon Jungkook was face to face with the most beautiful man he’d ever met. He had a whole speech planned to ask if he could sit next to the man. He expected to beg if he got rejected, to buy the man a drink if he let him, but he was definitely not prepared for him to look straight into the eyes of angel. Said angel was staring at him confusedly, and opened his mouth to question the man in front of him, when the man in question suddenly spewed a bunch of words from his mouth.
“Hi, I’m sorry if I’m bothering you from your phone, er, thing, but I have a paper due tomorrow, and well, my laptop is…” he glanced at the device. “At three percent, so I was wondering if you could please let me sit next to you because I desperately need to pass this subject ‘cause if I don’t, I’d have to retake it. There is no way I’m going to retake it, and if you are unsure about letting me sit here, I promise I’ll be so quiet you won’t even hear a thing. Please, I’m ready to get on my knees and beg you.”
He started breathing deeply because he said all those words without stopping once, and he expectantly looked at the man. He felt the urge to cringe at everything he just said, and was already mentally preparing for rejection. Of course, if he was sitting in his place, he’d be freaked out by the guy staring at him with wide eyes and talking as if he had gone mad. Perhaps part of him had lost sanity, but he was going to blame it on too much caffeine and writing in English for hours. Definitely not on the ethereal being in front of him, no.
He was surprised when the blonde’s eyes crinkled, and a cute smile adorned his face. “Sure,” he said, laughing at Kook’s surprised look. “Trust me. I know how much hell English is, but luckily, my roommate’s a lit major.”
Wow, it's like everyone has a literature major in their lives.
“How did you know I was doing an English paper?” Jungkook asked.
“You weren’t exactly quiet when you were complaining about it.”
“Hey, you might want to plug that in.”
The brunette raised his eyebrows in surprise. He’d almost forgotten the reason of his initial visit to the table in the corner. He quickly plugged in the laptop and sat across from his new companion. “I’m Jimin, by the way,” he introduced.
Jimin nodded and gave him a small smile before returning to his phone. They sat in comfortable silence for a while, Jungkook typing and Jimin listening to some music. An hour in to working, Jungkook kept sighing and clicking his tongue to himself. It was loud enough that his seatmate could hear it even with his earphones on. He took them off, and shot a concerned look at the noise machine in front of him, “Hey, what’re you tsking and sighing about?”
Looking up from his laptop, he made a face of pure displeasure, simply stating, “The English language.”
Jimin laughed, “Hey, I’m pretty decent at English since my roommate insists that we watch movies with Korean subtitles instead of dubbed ones, that, and he’s always quoting some Hamlet guy or something.”
Oh thank god. Jungkook thought. He really is an angel sent from the heavens.
He immediately accepted the sweater-pawed angel’s help, and his paper was done in no time. He was so relieved, and he even exceeded the minimum amount of required pages. He was so happy, a few tears actually spilled from his eyes, and he started dancing in the almost-empty café. Seokjin watched him with an amused expression, as Jimin got up to join him in his celebratory crumping. When Jungkook saw him dancing next to him, he engulfed the man in a bear hug, “Thank you, Jimin! You have saved me from hell. You’re like Jesus.”
Jimin blushed, shaking his head, “Hah, I’m not Jesus at all, but I wouldn’t mind a little thank you present.”
“Anything for my savior.”
“Anything, huh? Mind giving me your number?” Jimin asked, smirking at the boy who was clearly flustered. Red covered his whole face and neck, as the blonde giggled at his sudden shyness. Jungkook nodded, and was punching his number into Jimin’s phone. As he was typing, a notification popped up from the phone from Joonie-hyung.
Btw. Why did you suddenly want an English lesson?
Jungkook’s face made an ‘o’ of surprise that quickly morphed into as smirk. “So, Jimin, how about I treat you to some dinner, you know, as a thank you?”
Oh. Don’t worry about it hyung ;)