|I'll be home soon, Seokjin types in the message box the second Yoongi's message comes in. Or maybe not the exact second he gets the text, fine. He types it as soon as he gets to read the message, which is the moment Jeongguk's voice dips into a heavy sigh because he's finally done telling Seokjin an elaborate story on how his week sucked, "So that's why I'm here right now. Or why I couldn't reply 'til... this afternoon or something, yeah. Sorry 'bout that, hyung. But hey — time to eat!" It hasn't been long since the light of his phone started blinking, though, probably only been some three, four minutes since it's gone off with a gentle 'ding' and stolen Jeongguk's attention for a good second or two, but if there's anything Seokjin has come to prove about a Min Yoongi left with two plates full of things to do for work, it's the fact that not replying the very next second is likely to make Yoongi feel awful. Worse — betrayed.|
What a drama queen, Seokjin thinks to himself as risks another glance at his phone — just glances at it but doesn't type more, doesn't even press the 'send' button yet, just letting his thumb hover and his mind stall for a couple more seconds and collect its thoughts. Yoongi is nothing like Jeongguk, though, who'd actually groaned about some cute barista at Starbucks getting his name wrong as soon as they found each other in Bundang's rather unusual crowd today. Part of him wanted to tell Jeongguk that it was normal, being called all sorts of weird names by coffee shop boys, that it was the spice of every barista's otherwise insipid daily routine, Jaehwan did it every-fucking-day for five years, man. He looked forward to the reactions he'd get all the time, but then he also knew Jeongguk didn't do this around a lot of people often. This being 'the complaining thing' or, in Jeongguk's words, the 'oversharing' thing. Seokjin still couldn't tell which was supposed to be worse. Either way, Jeongguk would only talk and talk and talk when faced with the people he's already known for a long time, and the truth is this: Jeongguk didn't—doesn't have too many of those, not when his father's job has him moving from one place to another all the time for years.
"Is 'Jeongguk' that hard to spell? Does it sound like anything else? John Cook? Jang guk? Do I look like food? I don't get it, hyung, I really don't!" Seokjin recalls Jeongguk whining a while back. Still cute, really, especially since he hasn't seen this in a while, but now that he thinks long and hard about it, so many minutes into the start of Jeongguk's rage parade, he should've just let the latter steer the conversation in that direction instead of rolling his eyes and saying 'tell me something more interesting' in response. If he had then Jeongguk's ranting probably would have ended minutes ago, and they'd have started eating sooner because the kid's supposedly, "—Starving already, God. I can't believe you almost stood me up for work, hyung. Work!" But then hindsight is 20-20 and there are times when he's slow on the uptake, when there are at least ten thousand things running through his mind, and now he's stuck watching Jeongguk watch him when he looks up from where his fingers are still hovering his phone, poised to do something, say something more.
Now, Seokjin muses as he gulps down hard, holding Jeongguk's gaze in what is, inarguably, one of the worst staring games he's had with Jeongguk in a long, long time, he's stuck trying to figure out what this kid right in front of him means by that tiny twist of his mouth, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, the gentle cock of his eyebrow when the air around them stills. He's stuck — in this place, this time, this moment, and there's a thing in his chest, small but lodged somewhere in there, that he knows won't ease until—
"Yoongi-hyung looking— Oh, sorry. I meant to say, is Suga looking for you already?" Jeongguk presses his lips together into a smug, smug smile. Seokjin leans in a little, even before he can register the distance between them, then sinks back in his seat even before he can dig an even deeper grave for himself. "What? It is his 'screen name', right?"
'It's his screen name, right? 'Suga' — that's what he calls himself on Youtube, right, when you're acting opposite him, sitting beside him, feeding him stuff when he can feed himself already? It's what makes him one half of the incredible Buzzfood duo, right'? croons a voice in Seokjin's head. It sounds a lot like Jeongguk. Kind of creepy, if he's being completely honest, because if Jeongguk starts getting into his head more then that might mean him saying the weirdest shit on cam, but even before he can think more his insides start lurching. Something in his stomach twists and makes acid shoot up his throat and kind of stuns him, really, to the point that he clutches at his stomach before everything begins to catch up with him — his phone's screen is still on, he hasn't sent his message yet, even if he could've easily pressed that 'send' button minutes ago already, and fuck, he has to fix the 'home' there because the Buzzfeed HQ is, by no means, close to 'home'.
You weren't lying, though, says a voice in his head, perhaps louder than expected. You're going back. You are coming home.
airplanewishes, you're up!