→ this is not a love song
Summary: They’re in the middle of watching The Holiday when Jeongguk asks, like he does every day and has done every day for the past two hundred and seventy-six days—“Hyung, can I kiss you?”
(or: five times jeongguk asks to kiss yoongi and one time he does.)
Info: Teen & Up | 7k | 5+1 Things, Fluff, Friends to Lovers
Sneak Peek: They’re in the middle of watching The Holiday when Jeongguk asks, like he does every day and has done every day for the past two hundred and seventy-six days—“Hyung, can I kiss you?”
Yoongi isn’t counting. It’s just hard to ignore the little tally marks that Jeongguk has been making on the whiteboard on the front of his fridge, steadily adding to the total number with each day that passes. With each question, with each rejection. At this point, Yoongi isn’t sure Jeongguk is actually asking because he wants to kiss Yoongi or because it’s just—their thing. Friends have things, don’t they?
And Yoongi isn’t sure if he’s actually saying no because he doesn’t want to or because it’s become a sort of competition, a test of his will to see how many times he can hear the same question without going insane. He’s done well for two hundred and seventy-six days.
Or—“No,” he says through a mouthful of popcorn—two hundred and seventy-seven.
Yoongi doesn’t even take his eyes off of the screen, because he already knows what he’ll see if he does: Jeongguk staring at him with his big, pretty eyes, a pleading in them. Pout on his pretty lips, so eager and open and vulnerable. Sometimes Yoongi tells himself that it’s an act, because it’s easier to believe that than to think that Jeon Jeongguk really, truly wants to kiss him, his best friend of three years. The grad student who regrets his life decisions every day, who drinks too much coffee and eats too much ramen and always tries his best, sure, but never quite gets it right.
When Jeongguk hasn’t moved for a full minute, Yoongi lifts his free hand, the one not shoved in the popcorn bowl, and, still without turning his eyes from the screen, cups Jeongguk’s chin so he can force the younger’s face toward the screen.
”Pay attention, Guk-ah,” mutters Yoongi. “Amanda’s about to realize she actually loves Graham.” The thing is, they’ve seen this movie many, many times together. Not just when it’s Christmas, because Jeongguk claims it’s one of his favourite movies even though he always cries at the end, and although Yoongi pretends he only watches it to indulge Jeongguk, he secretly loves it, too. Secretly loves the romance, loves the idea of something—more.
Still. It’s always the same part that urges Jeongguk to ask the ever-present question: the love confession. “Can’t wait until you pull an Amanda and realize you’re actually in love with me,” says Jeongguk, which is—hilarious, really, even though his tone suggests otherwise. He’s always making silly comments like that, always joking about what a real relationship between them would be like.
Yoongi knows that Jeongguk likes him. He doesn’t think the boy would have asked to kiss Yoongi two hundred and seventy-seven times if he didn’t, but he also doesn’t think that Jeongguk expects much of it. He doesn’t expect that Yoongi would ever actually like him back, which is—good. Because Yoongi doesn’t.
