Work Text:
The bus before you idles noisily as the long line of soon-to-be passengers begin to file inside. The exhaust pouring out of the tailpipe mingles with the sharp scent of winter that still clings to the unusually chilly March air and invades your nose until all you can smell is the heavy scent of diesel.
You have just arrived in South Korea after the longest flight of your life and now you are about to board a smelly bus for another four hours before you will finally reach your cousin’s house in Daegu.
Your cousin just moved to South Korea eight months ago, and when she invited you to spend your spring break with her you were hesitant to agree. You have never been out of the country before, but you were close to your cousin prior to her sudden move and she was eventually able to convince you to spend two weeks with her.
So here you are in a foreign country with a still very lacking grasp on the language, about to board a bus full of complete strangers for four hours. Your mother had called you crazy for going by yourself, and as you search the people around you in hopes of finding a friendly face you start to agree with her. This is by far the craziest spur of the moment decision you have made in your entire life and you are starting to doubt yourself, but it is too late to back out now.
While your mind was preoccupied with worries and doubts, the line had halved in size and you are now only three people away from the narrow entrance of the charter bus. You frantically search the faces of the people around you, knowing that you’ll be sharing a seat with one of them on the crowded bus, but before you have to time meet anyone’s gaze it is your turn to step up into the warm interior of the vehicle.
It is too dark for a moment, your eyes blinded from the previous brightness of the afternoon sun reflecting off the bits of remaining snow, but your eyes soon adjust and you are able to take in the rows of cloth seats and overhead compartments.
Several pairs of eyes flicker up to meet yours as you make your way to the middle of the bus where the next available seat is, but most are already staring out the large windows or are focused on situating their belongings. Your options are fairly limited as most of the passengers already have seatmates. You are hoping to find someone who looks nice and is around your age, or maybe an old lady that will sleep most of the way, but you quickly realize that the only open seat in this area is next to a curled up bundle of hoodie that is wearing a face mask and staring intently out the window like his life depends on it.
Instinct tells you to turn on your heel and try to find another seat closer to the front, but the next passenger is right on your heels and you wouldn’t even know how to begin explaining your situation, so you gather a little courage and seat yourself carefully next to the stranger that appears to be completely engrossed by whatever he sees out the window.
Despite your best efforts to stay on your side of the seats, your elbow jostles his as you pull your backpack off and it pulls his attention to you briefly. To your great relief he does nothing but glance at your arm before returning his attention to the view outside.
You observe his partially hidden profile for a second longer and then stand to shove your bag into the overhead compartment. When you sit down again you promptly slide your headphones over your ears and are prepared to press play so you can lose yourself in music for the next four hours when you hear the bus driver begin to speak over the intercom.
You strain your ears to catch the man’s words, and with your limited understanding of Korean you manage to decipher that he says something to the effect of, “Welcome everyone, I hope you are all excited for our trip to Daegu. We will be leaving in a moment. If you have any concerns, please let me know. Thank you for choosing Incheon Busing!” His cheery voice is gone after that and less than a minute later the entire bus shudders as the gear is shifted and the trip begins.
Things start off smoothly. Your music keeps you occupied and your seatmate thankfully seems like a decent person. He hasn’t moved much or said anything directly to you, but he is quiet and hasn’t done anything creepy yet, so you consider yourself lucky.
You try to take a nap in an attempt to pass some time, but the uncomfortable bus seat has you struggling to find a position suitable for sitting let alone sleeping, so you instead content yourself with staring out the window as well.
Though, you soon find yourself growing bored of the unfamiliar landscape and you find yourself gradually spending more time staring at the man next to you rather than the view speeding by behind him.
He is dressed casually in light jeans with rips all up the legs and a black hoodie with the name of a brand you recall as being popular in this area sprawled across the chest. He has his hood drawn around his face, but at his current angle you can see the band of a beanie peeking out in the front, hiding his hair and exposing his forehead.
Suddenly, as if aware of your eyes on him, he shifts and the hood is drawn back further to reveal that he also has headphones covering his ears. Your eyes follow the cord of his headphones to his jawline and then down his body to where they finally curl to a stop in the plug of the phone in his hands.
You watch him scroll through his music for a moment, admiring the way his long fingers flick over the screen, but suddenly his hands stop moving altogether. You raise your eyes to his head without thinking to see if he has turned back to the window, but rather than seeing the back of a black hoodie, you are met with brown eyes filled to the brim with annoyance.
At first you are caught off guard by his appearance, you hadn’t expected him to be so...attractive. His features give him an almost delicate look, a stark contrast to the harsh look in his eyes, but the longer you let your eyes wander over his features the more you can only focus on one word that settles in your mind: gorgeous.
Your seatmate is gorgeous with his dark eyes and pouty mouth and ears glittering with piercings. You know you are staring, but you can’t seem to look away. You feel your cheeks growing warm the longer he stares back at you, and they are absolutely burning by the time you realize he is speaking to you as well.
“-problem.” That’s the only word you catch out of the soft but accusatory Korean spilling from the man’s mouth. His voice is deep and the unique way it curls around every word has your ears begging for more. One word out of his mouth and you already know that you could spend days listening to him speak.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” You say slowly, concentrating very carefully on your pronunciation.
The second the first word is out of your mouth, the man’s face softens and you see the realization dawn on him, “Ah...no.” He begins in English, much to your surprise and delight. “Um, sorry.” He pauses and seems to think something over, “My name is Mi- ah no. My name is Yoongi Min. You speak English?”
Yoongi. You test out the name in your mind and like the way it sounds.
You nod and smile at the man, grateful for his effort to speak English, especially when it seems so clear that he is not exactly confident in his words. “Yes. My name is Y/N. It’s nice to meet you Yoongi.” You tell him, your smile brightening as you hold your hand out to him.
He stares down at your outstretched hand for a long second before he shakes it twice and quietly replies, “Ah, nice to meet you. How are you?”
You laugh at the look of concentration on his face before replying with, “I’m fine, thank you for asking. How are you today?”
He makes eye contact with you as he processes the words; he then laughs and ducks his head like he is embarrassed. “I am fine, thank you.”
There is a gap of awkward silence where neither of you quite know what to say. You want to ask him questions, maybe ask his reason for taking a trip to Daegu, but you don’t want to make him speak in English if he isn’t comfortable with it. The silence drags on, both of you with your eyes on your hands, and you eventually it becomes too much. You decide to try your luck with your Korean and hope you don’t make too much of a fool of yourself.
“Um, I speak a little Korean.” You say carefully. Yoongi looks physically relieved when he hears you speaking the language he is most comfortable with once again. Encouraged by his reaction, you continue, “This is my first time visiting South Korea.”
“Your first time?” Yoongi asks, looking surprised, “And you’re alone?”
You scratch the back of your neck, slightly embarrassed by his tone and the look of concern in his eyes. “Yeah, my cousin has work today, so she couldn’t meet me at the airport.” Yoongi hums in understanding and nods. You look up when you see the motion out of the corner of your eye and notice that he has taken down the hoodie of his sweatshirt to reveal that, like you, he has slid his headphones down around his neck. Doing so has shifted his royal blue beanie back to reveal that his hair is bleach blonde, the roots showing just a hint of his natural dark hair below.
“What about you?” You ask, suddenly extremely determined to avoid thinking too long about how well the blonde hair suits his features. “Why are you going to Daegu?”
“Family.” He answers, his long fingers absentmindedly fiddling with the cord of his headphones. “I’m from Daegu and I’m going to visit my family for a couple of days.”
You are about to make some comment on the statement or ask if he is looking forward to the trip, but just then his phone starts buzzing in his hand.
“Hello?” He answers. There is a pause and then you are lost as he begins speaking much too fast for your level of comprehension. You catch a few words here and there and assume that he is speaking to a close friend that is curious as to when he’ll arrive.
Three minutes into the conversation you turn your attention to your phone, wasting time on mindless strategy games. Almost two and a half hours have passed since you boarded the bus and you can feel yourself growing restless. Neither you or Yoongi take up much space, but the bus is cramped and you are greatly looking forward to stretching your rapidly cramping legs.
Just when you are beginning to abandon all hope for any further conversation with Yoongi, you get the sense that his conversation is winding down to an end. The thought makes you perk up in your seat, hoping for a chance to speak to him again. The stranger with dark eyes and a soothing voice is quickly growing on you and you can already feel that you will be more than a little sad when the bus reaches Daegu and you part ways with him for good.
You try not to dwell on thoughts of saying goodbye or even why you are suddenly so attached to a stranger, attractive or not. You instead try to focus on tapping the rapid piano tiles rushing down your screen, but something Yoongi says catches your attention.
“No I do not want you to sing happy birthday to me.” Yoongi is muttering into the phone pressed against his ear. “For the last time Hoseok, goodbye.” With those words Yoongi presses end on the call and sags down in his seat with a sigh.
“It’s your birthday?” You ask, abandoning the tiles on your phone in order to look down at him.
Yoongi looks up quickly, seeming startled, like he had forgotten you were there. You hold eye contact for a moment before he looks away and shimmies back into an upright position. “Yes, it’s my birthday.” He sighs. “That’s one of the reasons I’m going home. My family was complaining that they never see me on my birthday.”
“Well, happy birthday!” You tell him, smiling, but then you tilt your head to the side, “You don’t sound very happy about it being your birthday.”
“Birthdays are just another day for me.” He replies after taking time to think about his answer. “Also…” He hesitates and gives you an odd look, almost like he isn’t sure how much he should tell a stranger on a bus, but he continues. “A few of my friends will be meeting me in Daegu to meet my family and they can be...very excitable. Honestly, I’d rather spend the day relaxing and working on my music.”
“Oh, I see.” You reply, mulling that thought over while watching him with curious eyes. You aren’t sure how to word what you want to say to him about family and birthdays and such, so you ask about the other detail that piqued your curiosity.
“Your music?” You ask, raising a brow.
Yoongi looks surprised by your words, but his face slowly dissolves into a smile that makes your heart beat a little faster. If Yoongi’s resting face is attractive, then his smile is beyond words. His eyes form happy crescents and his lips lift to reveal an adorable gummy smile that does odd things to the state of your heart.
“Yes. I’m a lyricist and producer.” He also mumbles something about performing, but it’s too fast for you to make out. “I’m actually working on my first mixtape.”
You smile at the pride in his tone. You can tell just by the look on his face that he is passionate about his music. “Really? That’s amazing!”
Yoongi continues to smile before it fades and is replaced with a look that you are unfamiliar with. Yoongi glances away and you notice a slight dusting of pink across his cheeks. “Uh, would you like to hear one of my songs?”
You immediately brighten and almost shout, but you manage to rein in your excitement. “Yes.” Yoongi chuckles at your enthusiasm as he scrolls through his phone in search of the song.
“Here it is.” He mumbles, sliding his headphones from around his neck and leaning over to place them over your ears. You want to flinch away from his sudden proximity, but you force yourself to sit still as his face comes a little too close to yours and his hands brush lightly against your cheeks. He checks to make sure the headphones are over your ears before he pulls away, leaving the clean scent of mint and shampoo in his wake. He presses a button on his phone and then looks up, searching your face expectantly.
A short silence filled with anticipation is cut off by the sound of music flooding your ears. You take an instant liking to the beat, closing your eyes and nodding along as the song picks up.
“Is that you rapping?” You ask, your voice sounding strange through the noise canceling headphones. You open your eyes and see Yoongi nod. He looks almost nervous to see your reaction. You ease his worry with a smile, “I like it a lot.”
Yoongi’s gummy smile returns and your heart melts at the sight.
The remainder of the ride passes much too quickly in your opinion. You and Yoongi talk about everything that comes to mind, from his music to his family to your life and how you are liking South Korea so far. Whenever the two of you hit a wall with the language barrier you work it out with vague hand motions, and between the two of you there is enough broken English and Korean to have an effective in-depth conversation.
However, there is one problem. The more you talk to Yoongi, the more you dread the end of the ride. There is something comforting about him that sets you at ease; not to mention the way his smile makes your heart leap and his voice makes your head spin.
You hate to admit it, but you think you have already developed a crush on Min Yoongi.
All too soon the bus is pulling into the Daegu station and the passengers around you are gathering their things.
The two of you exchange identical looks of disbelief. Yoongi, like you, wants to delay your parting for as long as possible, so the two of you continue your conversation up until the very last second when all of the other riders have long vacated the bus and the driver is glaring in the rearview mirror.
Eventually you sigh and say, “Well, I think we need to go.”
Yoongi’s eyes widen and he opens his mouth like he is going to protest, but then he freezes and seems to realize that you are the only two left on the bus. “Oh.” Is all he says.
You force yourself to stand and stretch out your legs as you retrieve your bag from the overhead compartment. You move down the aisle to allow Yoongi to do the same and then he follows you out of the bus and into the fresh air.
Most of the large crowd that greeted your bus has now dispersed, but a few stragglers remain, one of them being your cousin.
“Y/N!” You hear from your right. You turn away from Yoongi and smile when you see your energetic cousin running toward you. You open your arms to greet her and she pulls you in for a tight hug.
“I’m so glad you made it! Ah, we’re going to have so much fun and I can show you my house and there’s this place whe-” She continues on and on in English, her plans for your stay spilling out in one breathless rush. You hear the clearing of a throat behind you and you nearly jump. Yoongi.
You turn and see that he is watching the exchange with amused eyes. Your cousin notices your movement and cuts off her babble to openly stare at Yoongi.
“Oh, I see you made a friend.” She says, her eyes and sly smirk insinuating more than they should. You feel your cheeks turn warm and you rush to explain that Yoongi was your seatmate on the ride and had been telling you all about Daegu.
Your cousin smiles up at Yoongi and then turns to wink at you suggestively. “Well I need to go do a thing...over there...so have fun saying goodbye to your...friend.” She pulls you in for another quick hug and as she pulls away she whispers, “He’s cute Y/N! Invite him to dinner, please! Oh and tell him to bring a friend!”
You let out an exaggerated, mildly embarrassed gasp and hit her arm playfully, “I will not. Now shoo!”
When she is safely out of hearing range you turn to Yoongi with an apologetic grimace, “Sorry about her.”
“No, it’s fine.” Yoongi replies, his eyes hinting at his amusement. There is a pause full of eye contact and unspoken words before Yoongi speaks again. “Uh, Y/N, I was wondering if y-”
But whatever is supposed to come next is cut off by several male voices calling Yoongi’s name. You glance over Yoongi’s shoulder and see four men watching you with wide eyes while they call out.
“Yoongi! What took you so long?” The tallest of the four asks when they reach where you stand.
Yoongi, however, ignores them and watches you instead.
“Yoongi?” The same tall man asks, but when he realizes that his friend’s eyes are glued to you he turns his focus to eyeing you top to bottom. “Oh. Who’s this?”
This time Yoongi seems to hear him and his eyes shift away from yours to look at each of the new arrivals. “This is Y/N. We met on the bus.”
“Hello. Nice to meet you.” You greet, flashing them a small smile.
“Ah, do you speak English?” The same tall man asks, this time in perfect English, flashing you a dimpled smile.
You raise a brow and laugh. “Is it really that obvious?”
The dimples deepen with his smile, “A little. It’s nice to meet you. My name is Namjoon. Their names are Jungkook, Hoseok, and Jimin.” He introduces the others beside him. “And then you apparently know Yoongi already?”
“Yes, we met on the bus. He was telling me about Daegu and his music.” You reply, already liking Namjoon with his dimples and easy English.
“We’re all here to celebrate Yoongi’s birthday in his hometown.” He says. He then gets an odd look on his face turns to examine Yoongi. The others seem to have stopped paying attention when the conversation switched to English, but Yoongi is watching Namjoon with suspicious eyes.
“What exactly are you telling her?” He asks and you laugh at the accusation in his tone.
“We’re actually having a party later tonight to celebrate.” Namjoon continues, ignoring Yoongi. “You should come! And you can bring that girl you were with a minute ago. The more the merrier!”
Your eyes go wide at the offer. “Would that be okay? I mean...we don’t really know you guys and we wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“No, no it’s really no trouble at all. Yoongi needs more friends anyway...and you two seem like you...bonded.” You raise a brow at the look on Namjoon’s face as his gaze shifts between you and Yoongi. “There will be cake! And you don’t need to bring a gift...but” He leans in closer to you and lowers his voice. “A birthday kiss from you would probably make his year.” He winks.
Your cheeks go hot and you know your face must be bright red. Yoongi sees the look on your face and shouts, “Hey! What are you saying, Namjoon. Why are you talking about kisses. I swear I will-” But the rest is cut off by Namjoon’s loud laughter.
“Ah, I’m only joking! But seriously, you should come. It will be fun.” He pulls out a pen from his pocket and reaches for your hand. You hesitate, but hand over your left hand. Namjoon quickly scribbles something and releases your arm. “That’s the address. It starts at eight. I hope we’ll see you there.” He flashes one final smile before gathering everyone but Yoongi and herding them back the way they came.
Yoongi watches their retreating backs for a moment before he turns back to you with a grimace, “I’m sorry about that. I don’t know everything he said, but please ignore him.”
“So, you don’t want my cousin and I to come to your birthday party?” You ask in a teasing voice.
“Huh?” Yoongi sounds dumbfounded.
“Namjoon just invited my cousin and I to your birthday party, but if you don’t want us to come…” You trail off.
“He-You-I...Would you want to come?” Yoongi sounds absolutely shocked by the idea that you would want to attend.
“Well, I was considering it.” You can’t help but smile at his expression.
He shifts his backpack higher up on his shoulder and removes his hat briefly to run a hand through his hair. For the first time since arriving you notice that it is warmer here. You are starting to sweat in your jacket.
“Well?” You prompt.
“If you have time and want to come...then yes I...would like it if you came.” Yoongi finally answers, staring down at his feet, his cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink.
“Then we’ll be there.” You reply. His head snaps up and he looks like he had been expecting you to say no. His gummy smile makes an appearance and you feel your own lips raise into a grin.
“Y/N!” You hear your cousin’s shout from behind you and know that you need to get going.
“You should probably go.” Yoongi says, his eyes focused on something over your shoulder.
“Yeah…” You reply, suddenly feeling embarrassed as your sudden burst of confidence deflates. You are about to turn away when something Namjoon said pops into your head. “Yoongi?”
“Yes?”
You take a deep breath and try to convince yourself that this won’t be as embarrassing as it seems, then you raise up onto your tiptoes and brush a feather light kiss against Yoongi’s cheek. “Um happy birthday see you at eight.” You blurt out, turning on your heel and walking away as fast as you can before you can see the look on his face.
Your cousin immediately asks you for all of the details, but you just grab onto her arm and drag her behind you while you keep walking, too embarrassed to look behind you.
When the other guys return to Yoongi, they find him in the same spot they left him, but his hand is raised to his cheek and he is staring at the spot where you had disappeared from sight; a grin is plastered to his face and the sound of your ‘happy birthday’ is left echoing in his head.