BABY BLUE SWEATER

“Hey!” A rather enthusiastic voice starts calling out right in the middle of the room, failing to acknowledge the fact that he’s standing gobsmacked in the eye of a university library. The sudden noise disrupts a bunch of library goers, including a soft brown haired boy hunched in the corner of the vicinity.

Haebom is reading poetry — as per usual, bottom lip tucked between his teeth as the small collection of people in the room starts whispering complaints about the unwanted (and very obnoxious) visitor, whose unknown presence starts to cause chills to run down the relatively quiet boy’s spine.

There are those types of people. The ones that just seem to leave marks on places they step on. People that can make crowds part when they walk by, people that can make everyone stop and stare and admire. People that leave an aftertaste. Haebom believes he isn’t one of those people. He is as quiet and closed as can be. Almost like a fly on the wall.

“Hey!” The loud voice continues, and Haebom (who is disrupted from reading the same sentence yet again) starts getting annoyed at that. Handle your business with the person involved somewhere else, you bafoon. He’s not sure what their business is — and he doesn’t want to find out, really — but it’s keeping him from his own business. Which is getting through the paragraph he was reading ever since the annoying voice started raging, and successfully digesting the meaning behind it properly. poetry is poetry, and it demands a certain level of concentration, thank you very much.

“The one in the blue sweater – yah. I’m talking to you.” That’s it. That is it. Haebom closes his eyes, teeth gritted and trying to keep calm. Who is this asshat anyways? Isn’t he aware that this is a bloody library? Once he opens his eyes after exhaling a couple of times to keep his nerves from throbbing, he catches his own sleeve and realizes that he’s coincidentally clad in a baby blue sweater. The one in the blue sweater. His eyebrows dip, starting to feel on the spot. That’s when he starts noticing a numbing burn at the back of his head, almost as if someone is staring right through him from behind. He cranes his neck to sneak a peek, and just as he guessed, the obnoxious stranger was, in fact, behind him — and trying to grab his attention.

Haebom recoils at the fact, Me? he mumbles under his breath in utter confusion.

“Yah, didn’t ya hear me?” The tidal wave of a boy repeats, and Haebom almost cowers. There’s nothing remotely angry about his tone but the person seemed like he could leave you breathless for two hours straight if he felt like it. Scary. Either if it’s in a bad way of keeping you breathless or a good way that leaves you wanting more, Haebom doesn’t want to be enlightened.

He steals another look — and yep, definitely not.

Haebom tries to look at the opposite direction, looking for the person this rude student might be talking to but unfortunately the quiet boy comes up empty handed, since he was plopped in a corner and no other person was seated at the same table.

“You. kid in the blue sweater. I’m talking to you.”

“Me?” Haebom questions (more like squeaks, but he has more pride than that — let him live), pointing a finger at himself. The boy raises his eyebrows as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He couldn’t think of a proper explanation as to why this stranger suddenly wanted to talk to him. He’s never seen him before. As far as he remembers. because with that face and that all knowing, shit eating grin, he’s sure he’d file that existence in his head as trouble. Haebom avoids the boy’s piercing gaze, scratching the back of his neck and thinking just how much he wanted to run away in that moment. “Uh, c-can I help you?”

It was more of a question directed at himself rather than the boy who found himself a spot on top of the table before he could dispute, sitting directly on the poetry book taehyung was engrossing himself into. That silently grates on his nerves (but that’s no surprise to anyone since this boy has been crawling under his skin for a good five minutes now). He might not even be a student at this university and he’s already flaunting all his glory on top of a library table.

The darker haired boy stares at taehyung intensely, leaning down to level his head at the rather cute, tense fluff™ that’s currently giving him a look of disbelief, lips quirking in a close mouthed smirk.

“You gay?”

Haebom tries to hold his chokes back at the blunt question. “E-excuse me?”

The – now that he’s close enough to observe – rather good looking raven starts grinning. “I’m asking you if you’re gay, pretty boy.” he repeats languidly slow, and Haebom, bless his heart, well, he almost doubles in his seat at the way this stranger is staring down at him. Almost like he’s drinking him up. the action heats up his cheeks before he could even realize and he’s quick to look away. this boy throws him on edge.

(But is he surprised? Nope. Not at all.)

“What?” He fires back once again, trying to be as firm as possible. a little bit off put. Haebom inhales, and hardens his stare. “Who do you think you–”

“Gyutae.” The other tries to hide the wicked grin about to spill on his face, eyes never leaving the softest expression on the flabbergasted boy’s face. “Kang Gyutae. Sophomore. Humanities department.”

Haebom catches his breath before he can process anything. The name didn’t ring any bells, and the boy seemed like he could get away with murder just by flashing anyone that million watt smile, so he didn’t understand why he’s doing this whole fiasco. Because taehyung minded. He minded a lot.

“And you?” Haebom gives him an incredulous scowl, starting to get up from his seat, but as soon as Gyutae notices his attempt, the cheeky bastard slams down a leg on the chair’s rest, his thigh caging the petrified boy in.

“Jesus–” Haebom jumps, the weight of Gyutae’s thigh™ digging down onto his shoulder.

“Nice to meet you, Jesus!” Gyutae chirps, failing to notice the poor boy trying to regain his composure. Because that thigh. He grabs Haebom’s limp hand right next to his boot, shaking it softly as if the boy was made of glass. (It almost seemed like it, let’s be honest.)

“So, you haven’t answered my very important question yet,” he smiles, front teeth protruding almost like a bunny, aware of Haebom’s cold fingers against his. Cute.

Haebom breathes in a long inhale. Lord take the wheel. “Look. I don’t know who you are–”

“Technically, you kind of already do–”

“–or what you’re trying to do but that’s clearly perso–” Gyutae places a long finger over the flustered boy’s lips, successfully cutting off the cute rambling and making the latter recoil, scandalized.

Something about the raven’s confidence makes a foreign type of heat invade his face, “Ah, you must’ve assumed wrong. See, we’re doing this for an article to update social stats and we’re asking throughout campus.”

“T-to ask everyone if they’re gay?”

“You say that as if it’s a bad thing.” Gyutae bites his lip, desperately trying to hide the amusement about to infiltrate his face. “But to answer your question, yes. It’s nothing harmful. So, if I sprung on you too fast, that’s why.” Gyutae still has the cocky grin on his face, and he can clearly see that the boy is doing everything he can not to misread his intentions. So, can I repeat my question, Jesus-ssi? Are you gay?”

Haebom sighs, peeling the boy’s thigh off his shoulder with an emotionless stare. “No. I’m not gay.”

“Sucks.” Gyutae clicks his tongue while getting off the table, the blatant disbelief in his tone slipping under the softest boy’s radar. “Would’ve been nice to meet a gay Jesus.”

Haebom shakes his head internally. It’s better if the other didn’t know his name, more chances of them not getting acquainted.

“You’re quite quiet, y’know.” Gyutae starts to say next to him as he collects his things. Maybe you’re just too loud? he wants to retaliate, but Haebom proceeds to ignore him, slinging his backpack onto his shoulder, ready to flee. The noisy boy seemed completely off from how his own presence feels, all sharp edges and features and yet too open, now that he thinks about it. Taehyung expected someone a lot more unfriendly than anything, metallic on the tongue and a bit sharp, but the boy didn’t seem like that at all. Well, maybe a bit of delicacy would be a good thing to add to that pretty face.

But that’s not what keeps Haebom’s skin flushed, he’s more than used to people’s rude behavior ever since he was a fetus™, the problem is that this so called Gyutae just stared. A lot.

And it’s driving poor, soft Haebom up an invisible wall.

He leaves the other still seated on the table, but before he exits out the library he hears the cheeky fool call out.

“I’ll see you around, Haebom!”

Baby Blue Sweater

2017

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