Two ♡ myg + jjk

{ seven }

mentions of implied non-con/rape

they stared at one another for a handful of moments, before jeongguk carefully made his way down to his usual seat.

in his head, he knew that yoongi was just a person. he was exactly like him, in many ways. both teenage boys, both members of this school; of this art class, both known as new kids, even if for yoongi, it was past tense. even both somewhat interested in other boys, given the fact that jeongguk was as gay as they come, and yoongi had sex with star athletes in the bathroom at lunch, all of whom were male.

they were very similar, but also very different, and not just in mundane ways like how yoongi smoked weed and jeongguk most certainly did not smoke weed, or like how yoongi had black hair, while jeongguk's was brown. trivial things like that didn't matter, they were different in deeper ways. the younger wasn't really sure what kind of ways just yet, but yoongi had a different.. vibe.

they were both different and the same. was that another similarity?

he's not sure.

jeongguk reached into his backpack, rifling through the contents for a brief second before he emerged with his torn old sketch pad and an even older pencil case, scribbled on by taehyung, who admittedly liked to take his boredom out on the possessions of anyone around him. oh well. it made jeongguk look a lot more popular to have a signature other than his own on his english book.

as he was flipping through the pages, trying to find a clean one, jeongguk found himself staring out the window. he had to admit, the area was truly beautiful during autumn. the ground was covered with the most exquisite shades of brown, orange and yellow. the sky overhead was grey, not dull, but full of life, from the occasional bird gliding through the air, to the fluffy clouds floating about above their school. the bare branches of trees swayed peacefully in the wind, resembling knobbly old hands reaching up to the heavens, with thin, almost scaly wrists protruding from the ground, bordered by fallen acorns or, in the case of the main congregation area for tenth graders, empty cans of soda.

before he knew what he was doing, jeongguk had landed on a blank page in the middle of his sketchbook, and his hand had picked up a 3B pencil, ready to start sketching the scene that was still fresh in his mind.

he wasn't a big fan of life sketching, or the drawing of things that actually existed and making them look the exact same on his page. he liked to put his own take on his work, add a splash of colour to the otherwise pitch black night sky, give that portrait of his brother a pair of devil horns and two scribbled little fangs, giving that effortless feeling to a drawing he'd worked on for hours.

despite that fact, though, jeongguk actually wanted to draw what he was seeing out the window, and he wanted to keep it exactly as it was. perhaps it was his subconscious just wanting to look in the opposite direction to yoongi and have a reason to do so, but regardless, he knew it would make a nice picture.

the room was silent around him, aside from the almost non existent scratch of his pencil against the page, or the occasional shift of yoongi's chair. it was nice. he was glad the twelfth grader hadn't tried to make conversation with him, but then again, why would he? jeongguk was a nobody to him, unless he remembered that time he'd walked straight into him on the first day. the only thing yoongi knew him as was the new kid, and although jeongguk would like to argue that he had a name, he wasn't mad about that at all.

you see, it's not that he was afraid of the elder. he wasn't, really. he knew that he had no reason to fear him. what was the worst he could do? it was more fear of how much yoongi intrigued him. everything from his purple nail polish to the hickeys on his neck, from the scrapes on his knuckles to the slight unevenness of his eyelids. he was.. unique, and whether it was a good kind of individuality or not, it was so interesting to jeongguk.