Chapter Text
“He’s so cute.”
The person talking clearly had no sense of shame or public decency. Yoongi hugged his bag closer to his chest and discreetly looked around at the sleepy faces in the elevator to find (and glare at) the speaker.
Yoongi was currently being squished like a favourite nephew’s cheeks at Chuseok; he was sandwiched between Seokjin, one of the employees from the video game studio on the fourth floor, and the firm chest of Kim Namjoon – ace of the sales team at Yoongi’s company.
Instead of being annoyed at being crammed into an elevator with every office worker in their entire building, shoved into a small space like too much kimchi in a jar, the person talking seemed thrilled at whoever they were gushing about and insultingly chipper for a Monday morning.
The voice who had said this, aloud, had been male and had said it with such fondness. Probably talking about a baby doing a very normal task or an idol doing the same.
The other people taking the morning elevator up to their offices seemed unfazed at the break in their polite, respectful elevator silence. They flicked through their phones and yawned discretely or stared at the ceiling.
Kim Taehyung, the most likely suspect, was resting his head on the shoulder of Park Jimin, the other most likely suspect. Both of them were in the marketing department at Yoongi’s company and both had their eyes shut. Not one person had turned to look at them but maybe that was just because everyone in the building was immune to their antics.
“Jjajangmyeon for lunch? Maybe I should ask Jungkook to go with me to the little place around the corner? No, no, that would be too weird.”
What was happening this morning? Did everyone forget that elevator silence was sacred? The holy rule of living in a society was that everyone in an elevator pretended that they were invisible – to acknowledge a fellow elevator rider (or worse: try and make conversation) was unthinkable and should be punishable by death. It was fine to bow and mumble a good morning while waiting for the elevator but as soon as the doors closed, everyone was supposed to take a vow of silence.
It was the glue that held civilization together.
Yoongi craned his neck to look around. No one seemed to be giving this other man’s monologue any attention.
“I mean, I know he likes jjajangmyeon but I’m sure he wouldn’t want to eat it with me. Alone. Just the two of us. Eating lunch together. Of course not! Ridiculous! Funniest joke you’ve said all week, Seokjin.”
“It’s only Monday,” Yoongi provided helpfully since apparently everyone was involved in this conversation.
The twenty or so people trapped in the elevator turned (as much as they could) and stared at him – like Yoongi was the weird one. Even Taehyung snapped open an eye to look in his direction.
The video game developer, Kim Seokjin, shuffled to look down at Yoongi over his shoulder. “So it is, Yoongi-shi,” he said with a polite smile. He then turned and faced the door.
“Yoongi sure is being weird. But not as weird as asking Jungkook to go for lunch with me. That would be… the weirdest. Wouldn’t it?”
Since they were now engaging in conversation, Yoongi tried to shuffle back a little so that he wasn’t speaking directly into Seokjin’s armpit.
“Lucky me!” said the same fond voice in Yoongi’s ear. “I can’t believe he’s this close to me. What a great start to the day. His hair smells so good.”
Again, no one in the elevator seemed to have any reaction to that statement but everyone had time to shame Yoongi for replying to Seokjin’s voiced lunch crisis. One of the ladies from HR was taking out the roller from her bangs and had apparently nothing to contribute about someone from her company being lightly sexually harassed in an elevator.
To be fair, it was still five minutes until the start of the work week, and she wasn’t on the clock.
Yoongi respected that.
“Maybe I can frame it as an inter-departmental meeting? No, because then he’ll feel obligated, and I don’t want him to go for lunch with me unless he wants to go for lunch with me – which is clearly a very silly thought.”
Yoongi was beginning to feel a headache coming on. He squeezed his eyes shut to drown out Seokjin’s insecure rambling. “You should just ask him.”
The elevator stopped at the fourth floor with a small ding. People shuffled around to let the video game workers step out.
But Seokjin paused. “Ask who what?”
Kim Seokjin was a stranger, and he wasn’t stupid. Yoongi had first met him upstairs on the building’s rooftop garden. They had both been looking for places to hide from the office building holiday party and sat in a very companionable silence together as their coworkers got progressively drunker. Seokjin was one of Yoongi’s favourite people in the entire building.
“Jungkook.” Yoongi’s temples were aching. He hadn’t slept well last night; he’d been plagued by horrible thoughts about turning 30 and his own looming mortality. It was such a milestone birthday and what did he have to show for it? He had a boring office job at a stationary company; he had accomplished nothing; and most damning (at least according to his mother and her birthday text message), he was painfully and perpetually single.
That must be it. Sleep deprivation and parental pressure was making him punchy.
“Jungkook?” Seokjin’s voice was high and nervous.
“Just ask him for lunch,” Yoongi grumbled.
Because his eyes were shut, he didn’t notice that Seokjin had grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him out of the elevator on what was very much not his floor.
Yoongi’s eyes flew open. The final sight he saw before the doors closed was Jimin’s shocked face and Namjoon’s outstretched hand.
“You’re going to make me late.” Yoongi rubbed his arms where Seokjin had man-handled him onto his floor. Seokjin was bowing to his coworkers and fluttering his hands at them saying that he would join them soon.
“It’s your fault.” Seokjin’s ears were red as he turned his full attention to Yoongi. “W-w-what were you talking about in the elevator? Why would I ask Jungkook for lunch? That’s… ludicrous.”
“You were the one that brought it up first,” Yoongi mumbled as he looked over Seokjin’s shoulder at his coworkers who were watching curiously from their desks. Yoongi could see Jungkook from his desk in the back blinking his huge eyes at the scene playing out in front of them.
Yoongi was sure that it would be all over the building by this afternoon. He knew that the building gossips had their own Slack channel they used for inter-floor drama. Hoseok, their office representative and Yoongi’s manager, knew everything about everyone before they knew it about themselves.
“I didn’t say anything!” Seokjin whispered. “You were the one that just announced to elevator what day it is.”
“But…” It was too late to argue the point – the elevator door dinged again and opened.
“Ah, sorry to interrupt,” said a smooth voice.
Seokjin and Yoongi turned around.
There was Kim Namjoon. He was holding the elevator door open with his large, long-fingered hand and was beaming at them with cheerful politeness. The rest of the elevator was empty – he must have ridden it to the top floor and then come back down to stop at the fourth floor.
“Yoongi-shi is going to be late if he doesn’t hurry. I think that Hoseok-shi is looking for him urgently. Something about a project?” Namjoon spoke so apologetically that Yoongi wanted to grovel at his feet for inconveniencing him.
Kim Namjoon was the absolute MVP of their company. He had been hired at the same time as Yoongi: he was in sales and Yoongi was just a regular desk worker. Yoongi had never felt like so much of a shadow as when he was around Namjoon who shone as bright and as brilliantly as the sun.
He was built – strong and muscular in a way that Yoongi could never dream of with his scrawny figure. He’d immediately become the heartthrob of the entire office – not just because of his handsome face but his conscientious attitude and wiliness to help out. He cheerfully carried boxes for the admins, brought coffee for teams working overtime, and mentored his juniors.
Kim Namjoon: Certifiable genius. English savant. Too smart to be working sales in a stationary department. But there he was: winning awards everyone other week, desperately wanted by all the women working in the office (several of whom were willing to push their husbands off a cliff to get a chance to climb him). But Namjoon seemed oblivious to the lust being directed at him; he was always unfailing polite to everyone.
In other words, he was annoyingly perfect.
Yoongi on the other hand, had stuck to the sidelines. He completed his work, wrote his reports, and did what people asked of him. Sometimes, his coworkers forgot his name. Once at a holiday party, the CEO of their small company had stood in front of him and asked which of the office workers was his wife.
He could occasionally help with an Excel question, but he was no one’s go-to for anything – unless they had extra data entry work that they would offload onto him.
“Uh, of course Namjoon-shi.” Seokjin pushed Yoongi forward a little too harshly. There must have been a wrinkle in the carpet as Yoongi went flying into Namjoon’s broad chest.
“I-I-I,” Yoongi stammered as he tried to right himself. But his apology was interrupted by Namjoon’s voice.
“Ah! I can’t believe this. Two almost hugs in one day! I must have saved the country in my past life. So lucky. Ugh. He’s so cute when he’s surprised.”
It was clear and distinct, but Yoongi was staring right up at Namjoon’s face when he heard this and Namjoon’s lips did not move an inch.
It was as if Namjoon was speaking directly into Yoongi’s head.
“Ah! Careful.” This time Namjoon’s mouth did move. He gently helped Yoongi find his footing and then pressed the up button for the fifth floor.
The door shut on Seokjin’s concerned face and Yoongi was trapped with Namjoon in the elevator.
“Are you and Seokjin good friends?” Namjoon said conversationally.
Apparently, everything was upside down today and so they might as well break the elevator silence rule. Yoongi swallowed and nodded. “We are… friends.”
“Oh, you have a thread on your shoulder.” Namjoon furrowed his brow and reached over to pluck it from Yoongi’s shoulder. As soon as his blunt fingernails made contact, Yoongi could hear, clear as day, Namjoon’s voice in his head.
“Please don’t let him be dating Seokjin. The universe could not be that cruel to me. I get that he’s handsome but please let me have a chance. I’ll show you, Min Yoongi, how good I can be to you.”
“There!” Namjoon said, mouth moving, as he gently took the thread and carefully put it in his pocket.
Sometimes, when the body was overwhelmed, it would simply freeze. It was the brain’s way of keeping safe: rats, when faced with a cat often just stopped moving. They would become a statue only moving to breath. A cat would be disinterested in a statue but if the cat moved, it would know that its prey was trying to escape becoming dinner. It worked in Jurassic Park, but it did not work for Yoongi in this moment. His heart had simply stopped, and his breathing was shallow, but his prey was locked on to him.
Kim Namjoon, the friendliest Tyrannosaurus Rex in history, grinned as the doors to the elevator opened.
Yoongi did not move.
Namjoon carefully put his hand on Yoongi’s shoulder. “Everything okay, Yoongi-shi?”
This is what he said aloud but his brain was screaming, and Yoongi could hear every word.
“Is he okay? Maybe he’s getting sick? Maybe Seokjin shoved him too hard. Do I have to beat up Seokjin? I think I could take him. Maybe I should take Yoongi back to my place and put him in my bed and put a cold cloth on his forehead and make him some soup-“
“No!” Yoongi yelped. He wiggled out of Namjoon’s grasp and stepped forward, hands in front of his face.
“No, you’re not okay? Do you need to go home? I could speak to Hoseok if you’re not feeling well.” Namjoon radiated courteous concern as he walked out of the elevator and brought up his hand to feel Yoongi’s forehead.
Yoongi leapt back an Olympic record-breaking distance. His high school gym teacher would be astonished. “No. I’m fine. Don’t worry.”
With a short bow, Yoongi hugged his bag against his chest and scurried over his desk to put his head between his legs.
What was going on? Was he loosing his mind?
Yoongi dared to take a peek at Namjoon who was cooly walking over to the sales department and greeting his coworkers with genuine smiles and questions about their weekends. Namjoon was always so… collected and mannerly. It was if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. But inside of his mind…
… his mind that Yoongi could read…
Inside of his mind, Namjoon was a deranged, love-sick lunatic.
A love-struck loon who was obsessed with… Yoongi.
The same Yoongi who had his head between his knees, sucking in breaths and sweating profusely because he could suddenly hear people’s innermost thoughts whether he wanted to or not.
Yoongi groaned softly to himself, quiet enough that only he would hear.
This was the worst birthday ever.