Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Seriously, hyung, how are you still alive after eating instant food the entire week?"

Jeongguk scrunches his nose and throws a pillow in Seokjin's general direction, but purposely misses Seokjin's face. For whatever reason, he isn't really sure, but then his mind has sort of been in limbo for the past five, six days. The answer to Seokjin's question is as clear as crystal, though: midterm requirements just keep piling up on him even if he's been diligently crossing off items in his to-do list. Running the student council on top of the whole academic mess hasn't been easy, either, because Yoongi is an asshole of a vice president who just keeps chucking his goddamned 'no' at most, if not all, of Jeongguk's mandates (and then the guy proceeds to give him ideas ten times better than his own). And Namjoon is only ever good for bullshitting school memos and for consults on course requirements for Philosophy class. So really, really, how can he not be grateful to the gods that invented instant food and a sliver of sanity in the form of 3-in-1 coffee? How can he not keep living on instant food and worship it when it's the only reason Seokjin can talk to him at all?

"Never mind. I don't need to know. I don't want to know," Seokjin grumbles. He settles right beside Jeongguk, knees pressed to the cold, hard surface, then reaches over to set a few tiny bowls and plates on the table. Two beats, then he's disappearing from the scene, faster than Jeongguk can realize that oh, there's the faint scent of something really good in the distance. It doesn't take long for Seokjin to resurfaces with a cauldron, though, one Jeongguk is pretty sure isn't his and food Jeongguk is about half certain he hadn't bought from the convenience store either. A couple of seconds? A few blinks, tops? There's an ocean of voices in Jeongguk's head and all of them keep asking, the hell is Jin sprinkling on that red-looking thing? And wow, it has bubbles. The thing has bubbles.

Jeongguk furrows his eyebrows. Seokjin hasn't stopped working his magic on the stew, now adding– Wait, when the hell did Seokjin get tofu in his dorm–

"Now, eat this or I'm not answering the sample test you made for me," Seokjin mutters, kicking Jeongguk under the table when Jeongguk doesn't budge. His hair sticks to his forehead and there's a thin sheet of sweat on his cheeks. Jeongguk... kind of wants to reach out to wipe that off, tug up the corners of Seokjin's mouth, pull up the frown into a pretty smile. There might even be a dusting of pink there, just a few spaces away from where Seokjin's eyebags rest, but it's probably just from all the cooking he's done. And Jeongguk is tired and weary and he's probably just making things up in his head. He has already spent so much time watching Seokjin's every move and studying the quirk of his lips, the way his eyebrows furrow at the slightest whenever he's confused or uncertain or in a state of disbelief, that it's easy for Jeongguk to imagine the kid looking at him with so much worry or concern. Maybe even a hint of fondness.

He laughs to himself. It sounds a lot like a nasty croak, though.

It's so easy to make the mistake of dreaming things up.

This Seokjin, however... This Seokjin right in front of him who looks like he's about to reach out and brush Jeongguk's bangs away from his eyes, like all those nights he'd convinced Jeongguk to give him extra lessons on Statistics, looks nothing like the fresh-faced student who had walked up to Jeongguk months ago with a bright smile on his lips and a tiny request in the peculiar glint in his eyes. This isn't the same Seokjin who had once followed Jeongguk around the campus without so much a second thought, even if he had another class in ten minutes, just so he could ask Jeongguk about time-management and how cool it was to be in the student council and, You think I can be just like you someday, hyung? This Seokjin– Jeongguk has never seen this look on Seokjin before, and the heavy feeling in his chest is screaming for Jeongguk to stop, to fucking stop staring, don't do it, just look away–

"What? Do you expect me to actually feed you? Aren't you supposed to be the one doing–" Seokjin stiffles a groan. Slowly, then, he pushes himself off of his chair and reaches over, tucking Jeongguk's hair behind his ears. The pads of his fingers are cold, but the brush of his palm along the curve of Jeongguk's cheek is unbearably hot. "How are you even older than me when I have to take care of you all the time?"

Jeongguk gulps hard and sucks in his lower lip. No one asked you to, he thinks of saying in retort, thinks of arguing and maybe telling Seokjin to just leave the food and go away, but he... kind of likes this, the way Seokjin (not-so) quietly worries and lets his cooking do the talking, instead, the way Seokjin cups one of his cheeks with a warm, warm palm before dropping his hand to Jeongguk's shoulder, before pulling away. The way Seokjin waits with bated breath as Jeongguk strings his words together into something that would otherwise sound like dry laughter, and the way Seokjin just hovers even if he knows exactly what he wants to do already – pinch the tip of Jeongguk's nose, shove a spoon between Jeongguk's slightly parted lips, and just make him eat–

"Thank you. For the food," Jeongguk begins, then pauses to lick his lips. The corners of Seokjin's mouth pull up into a tiny, tiny smile at that, and an even smaller voice inside Jeongguk kind of gurgles. It sounds like a drowning llama or something. He isn't even shitty at swimming or staying afloat. "And for... actually making sure I'm still alive. I–"

"Need to teach me advanced Stat. You need to teach me – you promised, hyung – that's why I'm here. I'd be in the library, otherwise. Don't get weird ideas," Seokjin says with a mostly straight face, but the crinkles at corners of his eyes give him away. Slowly, then, Jeongguk reaches over to give Seokjin's chin a light pinch, and takes the spoon in his hand when Seokjin adds, "So please, hyung, eat. Because I don't want to spend the next three hours trying to understand Stat from a guy who can't even understand the concept of taking care of himself."

Jeongguk laughs. Seokjin's lucky he's actually nice and cute beneath the controlling exterior. He's lucky Jeongguk finds him cute.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. You only want me for my brain," Jeongguk singsongs, then takes a sip of the stew. The first taste sets off explosions at the tip of his tongue; the second, when Seokjin tries to bite back the soft smile on his lips at Jeongguk making a sound of approval at the back of his throat, makes him feel nice, warm. Alive.