Yoon Bum x Reader: In-Justice

Chapter 1: Desk-Mates

Edit: Huzzah! I finally did a drawing for this story. ^

What am I doing in this fandom... I'm questioning all of my life choices...

This is pure tripe and wish fulfillment and Yoon Bum finding happiness.

Alright guys, this will be fluffy, but there's still some abuse and Bum's still sort of a creeper. I can't change who he is, but I'll do my best to make it cute and satisfying.

Chapter 1: Desk-Mates

What was a good word to describe the boy sitting next to you... wimpy? Yes, that would do in a pinch. Earlier this morning, a brawl had broken out between two boys in the class regarding a particular girl. This led to a complete overhaul of the seating chart, which resulted in you being banished to the back of the room with this stranger. You were a bit irked at the injustice of it. If things were fair, the meat-headed degenerate who started this whole thing would have been sent to the back instead of you. But then you eyed the boy to your right again, realizing that seating him next to a walking ball of testosterone would not have been the best idea. So you shrugged it off. If you could keep this melancholic young man safe from a daily beating, it was worth the demotion. Not to mention you could probably doodle more without getting caught, which was a definite plus. Perhaps this arrangement wasn't so bad after all. With a newfound smile, you returned your gaze to your scrawny desk-mate once again. He seemed to be fidgeting. Either he was trying to work up the courage to say something or he was just terribly uncomfortable that his personal territory had been infringed upon. It was hard to be sure which. You may not have known much about him, but you did know that he always sat alone until now.

"I think we've talked once or twice before." By that you really meant once or twice bumping into him in the lunchroom and him hastily apologizing. "F/N L/N." You smiled at him to break the ice.

"Yoon Bum." He gave a polite half-smile, but otherwise looked disinterested.

"I guess we're desk mates now." You said awkwardly, to which he didn't respond. Maybe he just didn't know what to say.

Upon first glance of the new seating chart, more than a small number of your peers warned you to be wary of him. It was not as if the cruelty was completely unfounded. He had once revealed a very dark secret of a female classmate- yelled it actually- so you could see the reason for their concern. But you later found out that the girl had poured a drink on him and told him to die so it seemed safe to assume she shared at least half the fault in that whole debacle. And that was months ago. She had even found herself a boyfriend since then, so its not as if that secret hindered her social life in any way. However, it was quite the opposite for Yoon Bum, whose unfortunate lot was a continuous cycle of escalating gossip. There was even a rumor that he carried a dead fetus around in his backpack. So you knew better than to go off word of mouth alone.

Their words circled in your mind as you stole glances at him: 'dangerous looking... possibly psychotic... known for violent outbursts.' You raised an eyebrow as he absentmindedly played with the tiny spring in his mechanical pencil. At this moment, those warnings seemed laughably false. So you decided to reserve judgment, at least for now.

-------------------------

A few days passed in semi-awkward silence, no real interaction beyond casual greetings. That is until you showed up late one morning, missing the quintessential partnering-up for an upcoming class project. Go figure, the only one left without a partner was...

"So'd you think of any ideas for the poster?" You turned to him after school had ended.

"Oh uhm... no. Not really..." He admitted. "I kinda figured that you might. I'm not as creative as you." When you looked at him funny, he clarified his statement. "I uh... see you drawing sometimes..."

"Mm." You nodded in understanding. 'Interesting...' You always figured he ignored you during class, but it seemed the whole time he was quietly observing you the same way you did him. 'Well-played, stranger. I get you.' "Okay. I do have some ideas..."

The two of you mostly worked on it in the classroom or school library since he continuously refused to work on it at his place. He didn't say much, but just quietly completed the tasks you assigned to him. He was either a very submissive personality or he just legitimately didn't care about the project one bit, for he let you take the reins every step of the way. In all honesty, you actually started to appreciate it. For the most part you hated group projects because either you did all of the work and nobody was grateful or you had conflicting ideas and personalities, leading to a disastrous final product. But Yoon Bum seemed like the perfect foil for your work ethic. He was someone who took direction well and you were able to see your creative vision unfold in his hands.

"Wow!" You grinned. "It looks just how I wanted it to look. Good job, Bum!" He looked up at you, clearly taken aback by your sudden praise.

"It was only because of your ideas." He said modestly, but a smile appeared on his face nonetheless.

"It looks pretty close to being done. One or two more days and I bet we'll be finished." He responded with a swift nod. "But first..." You pulled out a sizeable cardboard box filled with craft materials. "Decoration. Presentation is everything." You plopped the box in front of him, handing him the box cutter to accompany it. He sliced through the tape with a schrrssh.

"Oops." The plastic handle caught on the tape, causing the sharp utensil to tumble from his hands to the floor.

"By the way..." You both reached for it at the same time. "Is there a reason you don't want to work on this at your place?" Your question caught him off guard, causing him to jolt upwards quickly. "AH!" You hissed and yanked your hand away, which was now searing with pain. You stumbled backwards, catching yourself on the desk. Yoon Bum's eyes widened at the drops of blood hitting the floor. "Ouch!" There now resided an angry-looking gash across your whole palm, blood flowing at an alarming rate.

"Ah! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" He panicked. "Let me just-" He frantically tripped over himself, lurching his desk open and shuffling through the contents. A small bottle of pink nail polish rolled out without his notice, causing you to furrow your brows. He returned to your side with a handful of gauze and dressings. Was it odd that he had such an extensive collection of bandages in his desk? It certainly struck you as odd.

"Why do you have-" You began, but the poor boy seemed too preoccupied sputtering apologies to listen. His expression was horrified, as if he'd just sinned beyond all repair. He even checked your face for any signs of pain as he delicately applied pressure to the wound, as if one dissatisfied look from you would turn him to stone. You watched his hands shake and fumble as he cleaned the excess blood, and you felt your original opinion of him morphing somewhat.

He was actually kind of... sweet, wasn't he? Not aloof, just unsure.

He finished wrapping the bandage with a neat little knot. From the appearance of it, you would assume he's had a little too much experience treating things like these. But you figured the reason for that was obvious. 'I mean... just look at him. I'm sure bullies have been targeting him from the start.'

"What's with that face?" You asked him after a brief silence.

"Huh?"

"You looked like a kicked puppy. What's wrong?"

"What do you mean? I just hurt you. I feel bad."

"But it was an accident. I'm not mad at you or anything."

"Really?"

"Of course." You saw his shoulders relax a little. "But we should probably pack up for the day." He nodded and you both looked over at the table.

"Oh!" To his chagrin, right in the center of the poster, was an unmistakable bloody hand-print. Apparently when you had caught yourself, your palm landed in the most disadvantageous of places.

"Oh no..."

"I... I'll start over!" He pleaded desperately. "I'll do it all again tonight! You don't have to do anything! This is my fault after all..."

"I couldn't ask you do to that."

"But-"

"I have a better idea..."