UNIVERSE / BTS.

11: english boys / namgi

ENGLISH BOYS
( part 2 )

WORD COUNT 1.2k
OVERVIEW yoongi may have the tiniest, most miniscule crush on his korean roommate.

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     IT HAD BEEN TWO months since yoongi had moved into namjoon's dorm. he and namjoon were sat on their beds, opposite each other, yoongi half asleep as he read through a spreadsheet on music theory, namjoon reading the same thing. it was mind numbingly dull, and namjoon was two seconds away from bashing his head into the wall.

he glanced up to ask yoongi a question about whether 'he understood any of this horseshit', but didn't manage it; he simply had to admire the english boy.

his hair had now faded to a pale blonde, his eyes the colour of coffee as he read the spreadsheet. his lips parted slightly, and namjoon admired how pink an soft they looked, like flower petals, and how the evening light dancing across his bed made his pale skin and pale hair vibrant. namjoon could count the constellations of freckles on yoongi's cheeks, could see every little spot and blemish and mole and everything people thought were imperfections. he could see how yoongi moved his lips as he read, as if testing out how the korean words would sound on his tongue. he could see how simply beautiful yoongi was.

"perfect." namjoon mumbled under his breath. yoongi diverted his eyes away from the paper, looking at namjoon without moving his head. their dorm was silent, as neither could concentrate with music playing, and yoongi had easily caught a whisper of what the pink haired boy sat across from him had said.

"hmm?" he hummed lazily, raising an eyebrow.

"perfect, i said," namjoon replied, suddenly confident in what he was saying. "you look really pretty. just sat there. i don't know."

"you wanna take a picture?" yoongi laughed, and god, namjoon loved his korean so much. how his voice was slightly deep, and lazy, and how he sometimes sounded drunk because he didn't put much effort into speaking. and those times when yoongi had victory yelled adorably after beating taehyung at monopoly, or when he and seokjin had been singing that stupid red velvet song together and his voice went all soft and high pitched. namjoon didn't know if you could be attracted to someone's voice like that, not until he met yoongi.

"i would. but you're the photography nerd here," namjoon chuckled lowly. "a photo wouldn't capture your beauty anyway. not in the way i'm seeing it right now."

the smallest, tiniest blush crept onto yoongi's freckled cheeks, like the hues of a sunset slowly forming. "uh," he stuttered, blinking confusedly. "a-arigato?"

"you... that was japanese, what the hell?" namjoon laughed at how cute yoongi's voice had gone as he stuttered out 'thank you' in an entirely different language. yoongi turned more pink.

"i sometimes get, uh, mixed up when i'm angry or flustered," he explained in a quiet voice. "i once insulted someone in the small amount of spanish i know after they threw my bag in the trash."

"and the insult was?" namjoon asked, now curious.

"'i hope goats shit on your ancestor's graves you pussy son of a whore', or something like that," yoongi shrugged. "i didn't have lots of friends."

namjoon chuckled. "back to my point: you look beautiful."

yoongi resisted the urge to throw himself out of the dorm window, instead burying his pink cheeks in his sweater paws, dropping the paper he was reading from. namjoon complimenting him was too much; he liked the younger boy, really really liked him, and when he started spouting almost poetic compliments, yoongi's cheeks started burning up. he didn't even notice namjoon glancing at the clock and realising he had to leave, only lifting his head when he heard the younger call. namjoon was halfway out the door when he yelled back.

"hey, yoongi hyung! don't hide your pretty face!"

yoongi squealed into his sweater, cheeks bright red.

—

     FORTY MINUTES AFTER namjoon had left, and yoongi sat comfortably on his bed, netflix playing some movie on his laptop as he ate popcorn and scrolled through his instagram. he saw an account pop up in his recommended, and gasped when he saw namjoon's face as the profile picture.

he tapped on the account, and scrolled down, seeing namjoon's photography and his own selfies. god. yoongi had thought namjoon was handsome when he first met him, and he had felt something, although he wasn't aware of what it was. as his eyes fell on another picture of namjoon, stood in front of a sunset, his face perfectly silhouetted, yoongi remembered something from a book he had read.

"there's a japanese phrase that i like: koi no yokan. it doesn't mean love at first sight. it's closer to love at second sight. it's the feeling when you meet someone that you're going to fall in love with them. maybe you don't love them right away, but it's inevitable that you will."

yoongi didn't know what book it was from or who wrote it, but he knew that it was what he felt for namjoon. he had felt something when he first looked into those gentle brown eyes of the korean boy, and now he knew what it was.

"oh god," he mumbled, palming at his face and feeling his cheeks heat up. "oh my god... i'm in love with him, aren't i?"

he closed his eyes, head hanging, hands buried in the sleeves of his enormous hoodie he wore. he was in love with kim namjoon. well, perhaps not in love, but highly infatuated. he clenched his fist, looking at the simply marvelous picture of namjoon on his phone screen, admiring everything about the younger boy.

as yoongi heard the door open, he grabbed at his phone, acting as if he had been on it the whole time. namjoon yawned as he walked past him, smelling like fryer fat and chips, collapsing onto his bed with a grunt.

"good study date?" yoongi asked, still scrolling down namjoon's instagram.

"seokjin's hopeless at music theory, but yeah, it was pretty cool. would've been nice if jimin and jin cut down on the making out," he chuckled, hands behind his head. "good time alone?"

"meh," yoongi shrugged. "watched a movie. messed around on instagram."

"oh, what's your user?" namjoon asked, taking his phone from his pocket. yoongi yawned instead of answering, stretching, and unknowingly double tapping the screen of his phone and liking a selfie namjoon had posted last week.

"it's m, y, g, ninety three," he yawned, shutting off his phone. "you?"

"well," namjoon smirked, seeing the notification that yoongi had liked his photo. "looks like you already know."

yoongi's eyes widened, and he grabbed for his phone, seeing that he had liked that photo. he buried his head in his hands, peeking at namjoon through a gap in his fingers. the pink haired boy was smirking, raising an eyebrow at yoongi.

"hey, namjoon-ah?" yoongi said quietly. namjoon nodded, signaling for him to go on. "so... you know you called me perfect, and i started, well, y'know?"

"yeah?" namjoon said, looking a bit puzzled.

"uh, well," yoongi stuttered, going back into english as he tried to explain. "i, fuck, i might have a really small, tiny, miniscule crush on you?"

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