#xavi.scriv

The moment you first met Kim Namjoon was the moment you had decided September 12th was your favorite day of the year. You love nothing more than seeing your boyfriend of two years now get happy when you shower him with extra affection and kisses and celebrate his special day. But this year, things would be a bit different than usual. In a good way.

When it came to sex, the two of you always kept it slow, something you never had any problem with – you, inside him, taking your time to explore every crevice of his body and bring the both of you pleasure, was always enjoyable. You never felt the need to ask for anything more; things with Namjoon always seemed perfect as they were.

It was Namjoon that brought up the suggestion that had taken root in your mind immediately, something you hadn’t hesitated to agree to. This year, for Namjoon’s birthday, you two would try something new. You’d go rougher, less gently, not holding yourself back from rutting into him as hard as you could like you normally did. 

That’s why today, when you feel the bed beside you sink with the weight of Namjoon resting there on his knees, you’re already more anticipant than you ever were in previous years. Namjoon’s plush lips press against your forehead in a light kiss, and as he pulls away you open your eyes, met by the sight of his ever-gorgeous face and deep dimples. 

“Guess what day it is?” he asks rhetorically.

“Happy birthday, Joon-hyung,” you say, placing your hand gently on his cheek and pulling his face down so that your lips can reach his. They’re as soft and pillowy as always, and you take one into your mouth, nibbling a bit at it. Namjoon makes a pleased noise into your mouth, wrapping one of his hands in your hair, tugging at it lightly just how you like it. 

After a minute, you pull away, slightly out of breath from the kiss. There’s a smirk in Namjoon’s eyes now as he stares down at you.

“You still remember my birthday gift?”

Both of you know the answer already, considering neither of you had been able to stop thinking about it the past few days, but you answer him anyways. “Of course.”

Smile wide, Namjoon moves carefully to position himself on top of you, straddling your hips. Without saying another word, he leans down again, bringing you into another kiss.

It’s only a few moments before he grows impatient with the slow pace, and he licks at the seam of lips, to which you open your mouth against his. With each second the kiss grows sloppier with already-budding arousal, but you can’t bring yourself to care, moving your lips lazily against his as he licks into your mouth, your tongue occasionally meeting his.

Every time he moves his cock rubs against yours, and you feel him growing hard, your own cock twitching in your boxers as the kiss goes on. Determined to rile him up more, you slip a hand under his shirt, roaming around his chest until your fingers finally settle on one of his nipples, and knowing he’s sensitive there, you pinch at it, rubbing your fingers around the bud. A moan of pleasure tumbles from his mouth, his hips thrusting forward, and you gasp into the kiss from the sudden pressure. 

Breathing heavily out of his nose, Namjoon lifts his head back up, dark eyes blown open and mouth agape as he catches his breath. He’s already so needy, wiggling his hips against yours in the search for more, the visual sending a wave of heat straight to your dick. “Baby, please,” he begs, whines, and the desperation in his voice is so clear that you can’t help but tease him just a little.

“What do you want, hyung?” You blink your eyes innocently, cocking your head to one said and raising an eyebrow. You want to hear him say exactly what you know he’s thinking about. He pouts at you, but when you remain unmoving, he finally gives in.

“Fuck me please,” Namjoon says, tone polite despite his desperation and the words actually coming out of his mouth. He gives you his best puppy eyes, the ones he knows you can never resist, and when you give him a nod of approval, he relaxes his limbs, allowing you to manhandle him so that he’s sitting by the headboard now, and you’re right in front of him, closer to the end of the bed.

Namjoon hardly ever wears shirts to bed, much preferring to sleep bare chested, but last night he had put on one of your pajama shirts. You have a suspicion he did it solely for the sake of tempting you, but the reasoning isn’t important to you right now. Instead, you focus on getting that shirt off of him. Eagerly, you pull it over his head in one smooth motion, your eyes widening as they fall upon the absolute privilege of a sight that is Namjoon’s bare torso, muscular pecs sticking out above a toned stomach.

God, all those sessions at the gym really had paid off. 

For a few seconds, you find yourself unable to pull your gaze away from his chest. You’ve seen it a thousand times, but like a sky covered in the vivid colors of a sunset, it’s never become less perfect to you. “Shit, hyung. You’re so beautiful. So pretty,” you mutter. From the corner of your vision you see Namjoon’s face flush pink, and you turn your attention that way.

His cheeks are such a pretty hue that you can’t help leaning forward to place a few pecks on his mouth, and when he smiles, letting out a slight giggle that makes you dizzy from how damn much you love this man, you give one more to each of his dimples.

Less innocently, you reach your hands down again to squeeze at his tits, holding back a groan at the feeling of how full they are in your hands. Savoring the feeling, you let go, only so that you can reach your head down as well, taking one of his perky nipples into your mouth and sucking on it. You let your teeth bite down in a light nibble a few times, living the gasps and pants it earns you.

You figure now is the time to appreciate his chest, considering you’re going to be looking at everything but his torso for a bit, so you switch to his other nipple to give it the same treatment, taking your time to swirl your tongue around, the way he responds to his chest being played with being one of your favorite parts of intimacy between the two of you.

But as your cock grows hard, straining a bit at your boxers, you start to grow impatient, libido spurred on by every noise Namjoon isn’t able to hold in. As you pull away from his chest, he lets out a whine of protest, but the delighted gasp he makes as you finally yank down his underwear signals you’re about to make up for that.

Immediately you latch your hands onto his thighs, loving the feeling of his muscles flexing underneath you, so thick and supple in your hands when you squeeze at them. The eighth wonder of the world, you like to call them, to which Namjoon always laughs, insisting they’re not that great. You disagree.

You’d be perfectly happy to admire his body for the rest of time, but the sudden weight of Namjoon’s hands pushing on your shoulders is just enough to force you back a bit on the bed. You let out a whine of protest, not caring how you sound, just confused as to why you’ve been torn away from the absolute glory that is his legs. Namjoon chuckles, placing his hands on the bottom of your shirt.

“Your turn now, baby,” he purrs, slowly pulling your shirt over your head, doing the same to your pants without a moment’s pause. It’s only after you’re completely bare that he lets his eyes roam around your body, and a smile breaks out on his face like he just can’t help himself, eyes widening the more he looks at you. Launching forwards, he pulls you into a hungry kiss, hands eagerly moving down your chest. When he pulls away, puffing heavily, he breathes out, “Fuck, look so good.”

Your cheeks flush at the compliment – no matter how long it’s been since you two started dating, it’s just as amazing to you each time that this genius, handsome man loves you. Not only that, he thinks you’re the pretty one. You’re not sure which universe you saved in your last life to land yourself here, in this moment, feeling so lucky every single day that you wake up.

But despite all the mushy feelings, you’re still horny as all hell, so you grasp a hand around Namjoon’s cock, almost fully hard already, not that you’re faring much better. The sound he lets out is somewhere between a gasp and a moan, and you savor it, giving a small squeeze just to make him let out more. “You’d look even better stretched around my fingers, hyung. Don’t you think?”

Namjoon’s only answer is a shaky breath as he lays down on his back, spreading his legs apart, knees up, shuffling around a tiny bit to get in a good position, to look enticing. And he succeeds at that second one, his puckered hole so enticing as it’s on display, just for you. Your fingers shake with anticipation as you get the lube that you had left by the nightstand last night, and it takes you a few moments of fumbling with the cap to get it open.

Once you’ve coated your fingers with it, rubbing them together in order to warm it up, it’s hard to wait for it to be a more pleasant temperature when you’re so tantalizingly close to what you want, but you wait anyways, because the last thing you’d ever want is to make Namjoon uncomfortable, or even worse, hurt, when you’re supposed to be making him feel good. Patience isn’t normally a thing you struggle with, but honestly, something about Namjoon’s ass has always made it hard to hold on to your common sense.

When your first finger, lube still slightly cold, slides through his cheeks and pokes at his rim, Namjoon’s breath hitches, but he nods at you, signaling that it’s okay to go further. Your eyes focused on his face and his expression of arousal and anticipation, you push your finger further inside of him slowly. Namjoon lets out a quiet groan.

“Ready for a second one?” you ask, and he nods vigorously.

“Yes, please, I’m re- ah!” Namjoon’s sentence is derailed into a moan as you push another finger in, a bit faster than you did the first one. He wiggles his hips as his body adjusts to the stretch, seeking more movement, and that’s when you start fingering him open in earnest.

Every thrust of your fingers inside of him coaxes out another noise, each one a mix of cute and sexy that manages to make you more horny, your dick growing harder and heavier between your thighs, neglected as you focus all your effort on Namjoon. As lust builds inside of you, you focus on the feeling of Namjoon’s ass, already clenching around your fingers, and you imagine how it would feel around your cock instead, your fingers moving at a more rapid pace as you envision it. This is practically already a wet dream come true – you’re not sure how long you’ll be able to last when it manages to get even better.

“Please, ‘nother one,” he says, words slurring slightly, panting as he looks into your eyes. He unravels even more as you push a third finger in, whimpering while still begging you to go faster, harder. 

Namjoon’s even more worked up than you by now, his lip bitten from his failed attempts to hold in his sounds and his hard cock resting against his stomach, swallowing harshly. He always looks stunning, but especially like this, when he’s so affected and desperate, when you know you’re the cause of his pleasure. His eyes are intense as they’re locked onto yours, but to your surprise, he grabs your arm, and you immediately slow to a stop, worried you’ve gone too far.

“Baby, give it to me,” he rasps out, and relief spreads through you at the same time as the need to be inside him does. “Give me your cock, please.”

This time it’s you who’s desperately nodding. You reach for the condom you had also left on the nightstand alongside the bottle of lube, tearing the packet open and rolling it onto your dick as quickly as you can. As you turn back to get the lube, it’s not there. For a moment, you panic a little, trying to figure out where you might have left it, but the sudden feeling of a hand grabbing your cock, smoothly jerking it, makes you moan. 

Looking down, the bottle is next to Namjoon, cap still not entirely on, and his hands are both coated in a generous layer of lube. One of them is eagerly jerking you off, hasty and messy, more loud moans dropping from your mouth at the feeling of it, the other gently fondling your balls. Heat builds at your navel, and your dick is as hard as it can get.

Namjoon’s practically drooling, hands getting clumsier as they slide along your dick, so it’s not just for your sake when you put a hand on his shoulder, pushing him back. Despite how dazed he is, he seems to understand what you want him to do, scrambling to get onto his hands and knees, sticking his ass out in a way he must know makes you feel feral. His hole, stretched from your fingers and dripping with lube, looks so tempting.

You can’t hold back anymore, and Namjoon doesn’t want you to hold back, so you grab your cock, carefully lining it up with his pink hole and pushing it inside. Centimeter by centimeter, slow even though you want so badly to just jolt your hips forward, you let Namjoon adjust to the stretch as you fill him up. 

When you bottom out, it’s with a long, drawn-out moan. Namjoon’s walls are hot and so, so tight around you. It feels like he was made to take your cock, so perfect and pliant just for you. Normally you prefer missionary, love to see your boyfriend’s beautiful face, but mounting him from behind like this feels good as well, though you’re not sure yet whether it’s the position or just the knowledge that you’re going to fuck him like this, harder than you’ve ever done before.

“Fuck hyung, you’re tight. Always feel so good around me,” you whine, pulling your hips back so that you’re only just barely inside of him before thrusting forward again, and you’ve hardly even started but you’re already afraid you’re going to come too fast. That fear is only exacerbated by the groan that tumbles out of Namjoon’s mouth as your dick nails his prostate.

“Shit, baby,” he cries out, back arching from pleasure. 

You pull out again before ramming back home, relishing it for a moment before you begin thrusting at a faster pace, desperate for the friction of Namjoon’s ass. You keep to a rhythm as best as you can, wanting it to feel good for Namjoon as well, but your brain feels so foggy from need that you’re not entirely sure if you’re succeeding in that goal.

It’s a privilege, really, to be here, with the feeling of Namjoon around you, your balls slapping at his perky ass, the sound of slapping skin punctuating every thrust. You settle your hands onto his waist, gripping it tightly before pulling him backwards to meet your thrust, and Namjoon’s moan is long, drawn-out, and almost enough to make you come already. The added pressure on his back, along with the sudden stimulation on his prostate, makes him fall forward onto the bed, catching himself with his forearms before his face is smushed into the pillow.

The change in position manages to dig you even deeper into him, and it’s everything you’ve ever wanted all at once. “Taking me so well, hyung. Could fuck you all day…just wanna make you feel great…” you babble out, not knowing what to say, because you have too much to say and you’re not sure what the right order is or if you should even be saying anything at all, only knowing that Namjoon’s making you feel so, so good and if you hold everything in you’re going to explode.

White heat builds behind your cock, and it won’t be long now until you orgasm, you can tell, but even the thought of the sweet bliss of coming feels like a downgrade from the luxury that is Namjoon’s tight heat. You want more of him, need it, still craving the feeling of being inside him even as you take and take. Wanting to savor every moment you have left, you intensify your thrusts, hugging Namjoon’s back so you don’t fall forward from the force of it. Sweat pours from both of you, making your hold on him slippery, your hair slick and falling in front of your eyes, but you don’t care about the sticky sensation. 

“Harder! Harder, please, baby, I can take it, need more,” Namjoon cries, begs, turning his head back as far as it will go. Debauched, tears clinging to his eyelashes and plump lips open as pants and tiny moans spill out, he looks too pretty to deny his request, so you use every bit of stamina you can muster to go faster, harder, to give him everything you have. 

The rapid smack of your sensitive balls against him begins to hurt a little, but you couldn’t care less, because focusing on that would require putting less energy towards fucking Namjoon into the sheets, and the arousal and need you feel is stronger than the pain. You’re close, too close for your brain to even think about anything else. Reaching under your bodies, you grasp at Namjoon’s cock, rock-hard and leaking precum as it bobs below his stomach. Frantically, you jerk him off, wanting to make him feel the pleasure he’s giving you.

"Hyung, hyung, hyung-"  you hear yourself whine, sound coming from afar and seeming to echo off the walls, too dazed to do anything but follow the all-consuming instinct to bury yourself as far inside Namjoon as you can, your hand getting steadily sloppier around his dick.

"Fuck, gonna come, don't stop, don't stop-"

A final loud groan escapes him as he orgasms, some cum spurting out onto your hand, the rest undoubtedly covering his chest and the sheets in white. He clenches around you, so impossibly tight and perfect, and finally allows himself to fall onto the bed. A few more thrusts is all you can hold on for before a wave of pleasure pushes you over the edge, and you spill into the condom, still moving until you're done spilling your final load. It's only then that you collapse onto his back, the two of you plastered together by exhaustion and perspiration.

The warmth of his body below is comforting enough that you could probably fall asleep like this, but it’s still the morning of Namjoon’s birthday and the two of you have plans. Reluctantly, you roll over, moaning as your dick (regretfully) slips out of his ass. You’re too spent to actually get off the bed yet, though, so you turn back towards Namjoon, wrapping your arms around him and cuddling him closer.

Drying bodily fluids covering your bodies, you feel disgusting and practically ecstatic at the idea of showering, but you don’t regret a single moment of it. You never would, not with Namjoon. 

“Excited for the art museum later, hyung?” you murmur into his neck, his hands idly playing with your hair. He lets out a breathy giggle.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to walk much there, to be honest,”

“So you’d say the birthday sex was pretty good, then?” you say with a smirk, and Namjoon smiles back at you, so genuine and loving, a sight you’ll never get tired of as long as you live.

“Good’s not strong enough. I’d go with amazing. Or maybe perfect. Marvelous might work too,”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Fluffy black hair framing a perfectly sculpted face. Eyes that were always sparkling with mischief and warmth. An impish smile that could light up a whole city.

Falling for Taehyung wasn’t a decision Jimin had made; it had just happened, and the more he looked back on it, the more it seemed inevitable, the only outcome of their friendship.

The two had met back in primary school, and Jimin had known from the moment he caught sight of the smiling, playful little boy on the first day of classes that they would be best friends. He was unlike anyone Jimin had ever seen before – his laugh brighter than the light pouring through the windows, his every movement elegant and intentional despite the inherent clumsiness of being six years old, attracting all the other kids around him. The buzz of conversation and giggles filled his ears in a steady stream from the other side of the room. 

His heart had run a marathon when they were assigned seats next to each other, an uncontrollable smile taking over his face when Taehyung immediately turned towards him to introduce himself. Even though the boy had just been talking with everyone else, something in the way Taehyung looked at him made him feel special. Every word that left Taehyung’s mouth drew him closer, filled him with a bubbly sort of hope that his wish to be friends would come true.

And within mere days, it did. Every morning Taehyung would turn towards him again with that same look, and they would talk until the teacher quieted them down – only to resume their conversation the moment they were able to. 

They always stuck by each other after that, practically attached at the hip. Even as their friend group expanded, even as new acquaintances were made, they were always most comfortable with the two of them. 

It was the first time in his life that he had felt anything so strongly, had been so confident as he was in their friendship. Maybe it didn’t say all that much, considering he was in primary school, but what did say something was the fact that those feelings never went away.

They hadn’t been romantic, not at first. For a long time, most of their friendship, Jimin was perfectly happy to occupy the role of Taehyung’s best friend. He felt lucky to have someone so kind and unique choose him as his closest companion, but it was a friendly admiration and nothing more. It was hard to tell when exactly things had changed. 

Somewhere along the way, his giggles at Taehyung’s jokes and antics had transformed into a warmth in his chest that seemed to grow with every minute. Hugging and touching was normal and frequent between them, since it was just the way the two of them showed affection. But recently, every small touch sent a spark through Jimin’s body and a flush to his cheeks. It was only getting more obvious and more embarrassing, so of course, Taehyung teased him playfully about it. 

They would laugh, and he would shake things off, and hope these unfamiliar emotions would go away soon.

It took him months to recognize what was going on, and months more to finally accept it.

He was desperately, hopelessly in love with his best friend. 

His denial had finally broken under the weight of his feelings a bit less than a year ago. Taehyung had dragged him to a get-together, insisting that it was good for him to get out a bit more (and to Jimin’s frustration, he couldn’t argue with that because Taehyung was right). Things were alright, though – the people were kind, and it was nice to get out of his shell.

What wasn’t nice was the girl flirting with Taehyung right in front of him, clearly trying to get Taehyung’s number, practically pressed against him the entire time. Uneasiness consumed Jimin, instant and overwhelming, and the entire scene was almost…disturbing.

Taehyung had rejected her gently, and after that no one else attempted to charm him, but it still bothered Jimin. The idea of anyone acting like that around Taehyung, or feeling that way about him – or even worse, Taehyung reciprocating – made him sick to his stomach. Angry, almost, but why would he be angry? Shouldn’t he be happy for his best friend if he got in a relationship?

Later that night, alone in his room and unable to take his thoughts off the entire situation, he admitted to himself the truth: he wanted Taehyung to love him. He wanted him for himself. 

Taehyung was the most transparent person Jimin knew. All his feelings were easy to read from his body language and expressions, and he never made any attempt to hide it. It was the way he was, never one to hold back if he was passionate about something.

Never, in all the years they had known each other, had Taehyung looked at him with any affection that wasn’t platonic. Everything Jimin thought about him, the spark that had overtaken his heart, the way Taehyung consumed his mind whenever they were together – every bit of it was one-sided. 

So instead of doing something with it, he smothered it as well as he could and did his best to ignore it when it bubbled up to the surface.

And now, here he was, at Jungkook’s apartment for a small Christmas party with a few other friends, Taehyung standing beside him.

Taehyung was clad in a loose-fitting Christmas sweater that was a strong contender for the most egregiously designed thing Jimin had ever seen, but somehow it looked fine on Taehyung, because everything looked good on Taehyung. It was a fact of life at this point.

Maybe it was the way he wore it with such confidence. Taehyung was well aware that he was handsome and had an impeccable sense of fashion, and he was always more than happy to show it off.

It was torture. 

Jimin loved it, loved him and the fact that he was comfortable with himself as he was, refused to compromise any part of him for anything, but the knowledge that Taehyung didn’t feel the same when he looked back at him hurt.

So out of his mind just from a simple sweater – he really was hopeless, wasn’t he?

“Jimin-hyung! Can you help me put all the food down at the table?” Jungkook called from the kitchen. Jimin tore his gaze away from Taehyung, realizing that he had been staring for quite a while. 

Taehyung had noticed. Of course he had. But Jimin didn’t even consider turning his head back to see his reaction. Primarily because of the wildfire of pink blush spreading over his face in embarrassment, but also out of fear. Fear that he’d look into Taehyung’s eyes and see disgust.

His feelings not being reciprocated was one thing. He could handle it. The thought of Taehyung hating him, though, was a nightmare. A nightmare he knew probably wasn’t true – Taehyung wasn’t the type to hate anyone, really – but one he was constantly on the run from.

To his surprise, Jungkook made no comment on how flustered he was when he walked through the kitchen doorway, too focused on balancing approximately too many plates of food on his arms. Sighing, Jimin rushed forwards and grabbed one with each hand, careful to not shove Jungkook off balance.

Jungkook’s determined gaze relaxed as he looked up, a sheepish bunny smile on his lips. “Thanks, hyung.” 

“It’s not illegal to take multiple trips from the counter, you know,” Jimin teased, setting the food down on the table as cautiously as he had picked it up. 

“But it’s quicker not to!”

“Does that really matter if you end up dropping some of them?”

“But I didn’t,”

“You would have if I didn’t stop you!”

Jungkook pouted at him, but his lips twitched as he failed to fight a smile, a laugh tumbling out of his mouth and his eyes full of mirth. “Alright, next time I’ll be more careful. Maybe. Can you get Taehyung-hyung for me? I tried a recipe he sent me and I want to be sure I did it right before Jin-hyung gets here.”

Nodding, Jimin walked back out of the kitchen, poking his head around the corner. Taehyung, who had been scrolling through his phone absentmindedly, looked up before he even said anything. 

“Jungkook wants you to try something real quick,”

“The squid kimbap?”

Jimin wasn’t sure, but he nodded anyway. If Taehyung had so readily expected it, it was probably what Jungkook was referring to. “Yeah, the squid kimbap.”

“I knew he was going to ask about that at some point,” Taehyung cracked a smile, pushing himself off the couch to head towards the kitchen.

As he got to the corner, his eyes flicked above Jimin’s head, a mischievous sparkle lighting up his eyes. He rested one hand on the wall and leaned forwards, graceful and without hesitation. Entranced by the motion, it took Jimin a moment to realize that Taehyung was leaning in further.

Soft lips brushed against his, warm breath puffing against his face. Taehyung let his lips linger for a moment, pressing them into Jimin’s plump ones gently, and Jimin could feel his lips grow thinner with a smile. 

The cold emptiness when Taehyung pulled away lasted only a second before a flush replaced it, though the phantom feeling of his touch lingered on Jimin’s lips. Taehyung’s giggle filled his ears, and his heart began working overtime as his mind raced along with it. He almost felt lightheaded with all the thoughts rushing through his head. 

Taehyung had just kissed him. Taehyung.

His brain took a solid second to finally catch up to that fact, joy flooding his senses immediately, and for a moment, he allowed himself to hope. Hope that this was real, that he wasn’t imagining it, and that it meant something. That his love wasn’t unrequited. 

But the next second, he realized that he should have never done that at all.

For the first time in his entire life, Taehyung’s rectangular smile didn’t warm his heart. Not because it was any different than usual, but because it was accompanied with Taehyung’s finger pointing above his head. 

And above his head was a floppy piece of mistletoe dangling from the ceiling, haphazardly taped to a string. It looked as sad as Jimin felt. 

That kiss had meant absolutely nothing to Taehyung.

Well, not quite nothing, but nowhere near as much as it had meant to Jimin.

It wasn’t like they hadn’t kissed before. There had been a few light pecks on the cheek here and there over the years. But this time was…different.

Partly because it was on his lips. Mostly, though, because of that hope that Jimin let himself indulge in, even though he knew he shouldn’t have. Taehyung didn’t feel that way about him – so why, why, could he never stop wishing that Taehyung did?

“Jiminie, you okay there?”

Jimin’s gaze went from the mistletoe above to Taehyung’s face, his attention towards the mild confusion in his smooth voice. There was still that happy lilt in his voice like there had been all night, because why wouldn’t there be?

Nothing had changed except for Jimin, and how could Taehyung know that?

“Yeah- yep, I’m good,” Jimin forced a smile back onto his face, a nervous laugh tumbling out. “Brain just went a bit wonky for a moment, you know?”

Taehyung was observant, always aware of tiny changes in people’s emotions – if something was off with Jimin, he could always tell. But tonight, caught up in all the emotions of Christmas and their preparations for it, apparently that wasn’t the case.

Jimin was grateful for that fact and cursed it at the same time. 

“I get that. Now let’s finish helping Jungkook get things ready before everyone else comes, eh?” 

Grabbing Jimin’s hand gently, Taehyung pulled him back into the kitchen. Neither seemed to notice the blush on his cheeks or the expression on his face, and he tried to lose himself in their sense of fun. As their friends arrived one by one, things got steadily more chaotic and enjoyable, because with them, those things were directly connected. 

But even as jokes were told, delicious food stuffed into eager mouths, gifts exchanged in a room covered with festive decorations, he couldn’t seem to shake the haze that had settled over him. It left him on edge, overanalyzing every little thing Taehyung did in the hope that maybe Jimin was mistaken. 

He wasn’t, and he knew that. 

But somehow accepting it still felt like a loss, even if he had never had Taehyung’s love in the first place. And if he lost Taehyung, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. 

•

The next few days, Jimin’s brain went mush whenever he so much as looked at Taehyung. If his feelings had been difficult to ignore before, now they were downright impossible to deal with. The sight of his roommate made all his emotions flare up, usually in the form of rosy cheeks and ears, to his embarrassment and Taehyung’s confusion.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Jiminie? You’ve been acting weird these past few days. You can tell me if anything’s wrong, you know. Maybe you’re sick? I can take you to the doctor’s?” Taehyung muttered, eyebrows scrunched up in concern as he placed his hand gently on Jimin’s forehead to feel for a fever. Jimin mustered up a smile and tried to will away the blush on his face, reaching up and grasping Taehyung’s wrist. 

It was stupid, so stupid, how the contact made him giddy. 

“I’m alright, Tae, don’t worry. I’m just a little tired from the holidays, that’s all,” Jimin guided Taehyung’s hand away from his head, giving it a reassuring squeeze. 

“Messed up your sleep schedule?” Taehyung’s face relaxed, but his eyes remained focused on Jimin, who nodded to soothe his worries. Taehyung squeezed Jimin’s hand back before stepping back and hoisting his backpack over his shoulders. “Try to get some rest while I’m gone, then. A nap might help. And I’ll show you some of the pictures I take to cheer you up too!”

“I’ll try. Now go take some nice photos for me! And for your grade, of course,” Jimin chuckled.

“I think you’re the more important part,” Taehyung remarked, flashing a toothy smile at Jimin as he turned around towards the door. “See you in a bit!”

The door opened and closed, leaving Jimin there, mind spinning, as Taehyung went off on his photography class project.

What did Taehyung mean by that?

Maybe…maybe he felt the sa-

Jimin shook his head, pursing his lips and walking away from the door. No. He couldn’t get his hopes up again.

But what if?

With a sigh, Jimin pulled out his phone, navigating to his texts with Jungkook. He couldn’t be alone like this right now. Not with all this confusion, all his feelings finally boiling over. His brain fumbling over its own thoughts, he typed in a message and sent it before he had the time to second-guess himself. 

hey kook! Taehyung’s not here right now, but i was wondering if you’d like to come over and hang out for a bit? 

He felt a bit guilty, omitting the reason why he wanted to talk with Jungkook, but he couldn’t bring himself to admit that over text. Hell, he wasn’t sure if he’d even be able to confess about his feelings for Taehyung in person.

Jungkook’s response came quickly, the typing bubble appearing only a few seconds afterwards.

ofc i’d love to hyung! i’ll be there in a bit :D

Responding with a smiley emoticon and a see you soon, Jimin waltzed over to the couch, putting his phone down and burying his head in his hands, half-panicking, half-trying-to-calm-himself-down. He wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that, focusing on his breathing – it was long enough, though, that he was startled out of that state by a series of raps on the door. 

He tried to plaster a happy expression on his face as he practically stumbled over to open the door. He was met with the sight of Jungkook’s excited smile, his friend bouncing a bit on his feet out of habit, but as his eyes flickered to Jimin’s face, his grin fell.

“Hyung?”

For a moment, Jimin considered keeping up his cheerful act. But his mood was already obvious, and once Jungkook got an idea in his head, he would never abandon it. And if that idea was that one of his friends was suffering in any way, then Jungkook would always do whatever he could to remedy it.

So Jimin decided that just this once, he’d let Jungkook do that. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…you can leave if you want,” Jimin forced himself to look Jungkook in the eyes, to not avoid him. 

Frowning, looking more uneasy than frustrated, Jungkook simply shook his head. “It’s okay, hyung. Can I come in?”

Jimin nodded, finally letting his gaze drop down a bit as he stepped to the side to let Jungkook through. Jungkook hesitated for a moment before stepping through, and stopped again once he was actually inside.

“Do you want to talk here, or…?”

“I think I’d rather do it in my room. More comfortable there, you know?”

Jungkook nodded, leading the way to Jimin’s bedroom, already intimately familiar with the layout of the apartment from his many visits. It was somewhat awkward, but it comforted Jimin to follow him there, in a strange way.

Jungkook plopped down onto his bed and patted the spot next to him. As Jimin sat down, Jungkook turned towards him and sighed. 

“What’s bothering you, hyung? I promise I’m not upset or anything. I’m always here for you, you know that,”

A small smile spread across Jimin’s face. Jungkook really was a great friend to him, had been ever since the two first met several years prior. It quickly dropped, though, when he remembered what he wanted to talk to Jungkook about in the first place.

“Thank you, Kook. It’s just…” the words dried up in Jimin’s throat as he tried to get them out. He had never been brave enough to say what he felt about Taehyung out loud – hell, it had taken a while for him to even admit it to himself. 

His breathing froze as he tried to gulp down the confession on the edge of spilling and spit it out all at the same time. Jungkook’s gentle hand came to rest on his back, giving it a small rub in a comforting gesture.

“It’s alright, hyung. You don’t have to say anything now if you don’t want to,” Jungkook assured him, his smooth voice soothing Jimin’s thoughts out of their paralyzed hesitation.

Jimin took a deep breath, and like a switch had been flipped, he finally allowed his greatest truth to pour out of him, each word falling heavy from his lips like honey.

“I’m in love with Taehyung,”

Immediately Jungkook’s doe eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open slightly. Jimin wasn’t sure if it was out of shock or if Jungkook wanted to say something, but the words continued to spew from his mouth in a way he wasn’t able to contain.

“I have been for- years now, too long to even count. I’m not sure when, I’m not sure why. I just know that he makes me happy. I just know that I want to be around him all the time, that I love his smile and his voice and his laugh and just him,” Jimin rambled on frantically, “And then on Christmas Eve at your house, Taehyung kissed me under the mistletoe as a joke. I knew it was a joke, but it still hurt to know that that’s all it would ever be to him. He’s never thought of me as a potential romantic partner, he probably never will, and yet I’m still just as in love with him as I always have been. It hurts so bad to know that. That’s why I wanted you to come over, because I can’t just hold it in anymore.”

Jimin didn’t realize tears were streaking down his face until one ran over his lip, the salty taste a bit startling. The urge to curl himself into a ball, to hide himself and the part of his soul he had just bared, was overwhelming.

Yet he resisted, looking Jungkook in the eyes even as his vision blurred slightly.

“I don’t know what to do, Jungkook,” he sniffled out, hands clenching at his jeans. “I can’t tell him. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost him. But I don’t know if I can go on like this, either.”

Creak.

The sound of the screechy door hinges was unmistakable, and Jimin snapped his head towards his bedroom door, seeing Jungkook do the same out of the corner of his eye. Sure enough, the door to his bedroom was open, just slightly, before it closed again. Like someone had opened it by accident and quickly tried to rectify their mistake.

No. No, no, no, no, no.

“...Taehyung?” Jimin whispered out.

Fuck. This couldn’t be happening.

“Tae?” Jimin couldn’t stop himself from speaking up again, louder this time, his voice breaking.

A moment of all-consuming silence passed. Jimin wished the earth would just open up and swallow him.

The squeak of the door sounded as it opened again, slowly, wider this time.

Taehyung stood there, quiet and unmoving. He looked pale, awkward, and utterly shocked and confused.

Jimin felt more tears well up in his eyes just by looking at him, just by seeing Taehyung look at him like that. Like he was embarrassed. Like he was the one who should be ashamed, when it was Jimin who had committed the crime of falling head-over-heels for someone who would never like him back.

Jungkook sat there silently, unsure of what to do. Jimin didn’t blame him. He wished he could sit out of this moment.

“Jimin, is it…true?” Taehyung breathed. Jimin wasn’t sure how he did it. The air between them was heavy and suffocating, and he was sure he was drowning.

“How much did you hear?” Jimin wanted to know if there was any possibility he could repair this situation, pretend he had been talking about someone, anyone but Taehyung.

“Almost all of it. I realized I forgot my film so I came back, and I heard you two talking,” Taehyung stared at Jimin, the expression on his face somewhere between grim and something else that was utterly unreadable. “Did you mean that, what you said about me?”

Ah. So that left Jimin with a grand total of zero wiggle room to work with here.

Great. Amazing. Jimin wanted to ooze into a puddle on the ground.

All he could do was tell the truth. Or lie, but that would undoubtedly only make things worse.

He remained paralyzed for a few seconds more, hesitated just to delay the inevitable, and nodded.

Taehyung’s facial expression barely changed at the confirmation. He didn’t look glad, angry, anything – hell, he barely even looked surprised. For once, Jimin truly couldn’t tell what his best friend was thinking.

He didn’t know why, but the apathy hurt so much more than any reaction Taehyung could have given him.

Jimin dropped his gaze down to the bed – in shame or in avoidance, he wasn’t entirely sure. Probably a mixture of both.

“Oh,” Taehyung’s voice reached his ears, low and quiet.

A few seconds and zero more words later, the door creaked open and shut yet again, and Jimin and Jungkook were left in the devastating silence.

The next sound to ring through the air was a sob falling from Jimin’s lips, tears blurring his vision of his hands lying limply on the sheets below him. His emotions were out of his control in an instant, drops falling nonstop from his eyes and snot clogging his nose.

Jimin cried loud, and Jimin cried hard. Taehyung could almost certainly hear him from the other room.

Any other day Taehyung would have come back to comfort him, to reassure him and console him. 

Today he did not.

Instead it was Jungkook who leaned over and pulled Jimin into a tentative hug, arms wrapping him in a soft embrace. Jimin leaned into it, allowing himself to hiccup against his friend’s shoulder, breathing in his shirt. Gently, Jungkook rubbed his back in a soothing motion. Slowly, Jimin began to calm down.

“Koo?” he managed to choke out after a few minutes. “Thank you. And I’m sorry.’

“It’s okay. It’s all a mess now, but we’ll find some way to fix this. I promise, Minnie,” Jungkook whispered, his voice as deep and soothing as ever. He clearly believed what he was saying, always the optimist of their friend group.

Jimin held him tighter and hoped he was right. 

•

Jimin didn’t see Taehyung for the rest of the day, choosing to remain in his room after Jungkook left. The only time he left was for a few minutes to make himself some instant ramen so he could eat a quick dinner and get back into his room as soon as possible.

He was half-hoping Taehyung would come into their kitchen or knock at his bedroom door at some point, but Taehyung never did, and Jimin’s confidence level was in the negative right now, so there was no way he would be able to go into Taehyung’s room instead to talk.

It was only the next morning that he caught a glimpse of Taehyung, sitting at their table stuffing his mouth with tteokbokki, chopsticks clinking against the side of the bowl. He was so intently focused on eating that he didn’t seem to notice Jimin walking into a room, and Jimin couldn’t help but smile a bit.

“Morning, Tae,”

Taehyung paused and looked up, chopsticks halfway between the bowl and his mouth. Instantly his face scrunched into his rectangular grin, and he tried to say something that was obscured by the food he was trying to eat.

He swallowed quickly before starting to talk again. “Hey, Jiminie!”

Taehyung patted the chair next to him to signal Jimin over. He seemed comfortable, carefree, like the events of yesterday were no problem. 

Despite Taehyung’s joviality, Jimin was nervous as he took a seat, though he tried his best to not let his nerves show. The truth of his feelings, the fact that Taehyung knew — it all weighed heavily on him.

He held his breath, waited for what Taehyung had to say, hoped he hadn’t messed things up too badly. Taehyung didn’t seem upset, so it couldn’t be too bad, right?

Seconds passed in silence, Taehyung saying nothing and seemingly having no intention of changing that. Jimin’s eyes focused on him, and Taehyung turned to meet his gaze with an impish smile.

“Yah, Jiminie, what are you doing? Are you just going to sit there and stare at me instead of having some breakfast?”

His tone was perfectly happy, yet his eyes…weren’t. There was some sort of nervousness there.

Jimin did his best to return Taehyung’s smile, getting up silently to make himself some eggs. Why were things so…awkward all of a sudden?

So this was how their friendship would end. Not with a sudden bang after Jimin’s indirect confession, but instead with a slow breakdown of their trust and comfort in each other.

The small brown-haired boy giggled at Jimin from across the desk, pulling his hand closer and grasping it in his own, before dramatically intertwining their pinkies and shaking their hands eagerly.

“That’s a pinky-promise, Jiminie. You can’t break those, my mom told me that. Pinky promise we’ll be best friends forever?”

It had only been a year since they had met for the very first time, yet Jimin knew they would be. He gave Taehyung a grin, a few teeth missing from his mouth, and held his friend’s hand tighter. “Pinky promise.”

Jimin shook his head, willed away the memories, and stood over the pan wishing Taehyung would just yell at him, outright state he didn’t feel the same way, even cut him off completely – anything but this excruciating decay.

But when he came back to the table, Taehyung’s stiffer body language and insincere eyes were still there. Fighting back tears, stuffing food in his mouth before any words to escape, Jimin resigned himself to the fact that he had fucked up in a way he couldn’t figure out how to fix.

•

“I’m sorry,”

Jimin looked up at Taehyung from across the table as his voice pierced through the silence, low and airy. The two of them had been sitting at their kitchen table studying together, reviewing different subjects and hardly saying a word but still wanting to be in each other’s presence.

“Hm?” Jimin hummed, a bit confused.

“For what happened a few weeks back,” Taehyung continued, and Jimin’s body stiffened.

Taehyung’s stare was intense, his lips pursed in a frown and his eyes drowning in guilt. Jimin couldn’t remember the last time he had seen Taehyung, a natural-born troublemaker, a man who always sought to make people smile, so serious. Years, definitely – probably not since secondary school.

Jimin swallowed and fought the urge to look back down, biting his lip gently. “It’s…it’s okay, Taehyung,”

His friend shook his head, only seeming more upset at Jimin’s attempt to sooth him. “It’s not. I was so caught up in my own emotions that I hurt you. That’s not okay,” Taehyung murmured, eyebrows furrowing as tears built up in his eyes. “It’s just - I’m sorry, Jiminie, I should’ve told you before-”

Jimin pushed himself out of his chair then, getting up and walking to the other side of the table to give Taehyung a hug from behind, abandoning his sprawled papers. It was relieving to get an apology, to know that things wouldn’t be just pushed under the rug forever, but Taehyung getting so upset over all this wasn’t a price he was willing to pay for it.

It was Jimin’s fault, after all, wasn’t it?

Warm hands reached up to pull Jimin’s arm closer, and Jimin leaned further into the embrace with a small smile. 

“I forgive you, Tae. We can just go back to normal, if you want. If you can,” Jimin whispered into his ear, the words hurting his heart as they left his mouth. 

Taehyung’s breath seemed to catch in his throat and his hands gripped Jimin’s arms tighter, shaking his head again, more vigorously this time. “No, that’s- that’s not what I want, Jiminie,” he blurted, turning his head to meet Jimin’s eyes, and for a moment Jimin panicked. 

Taehyung…didn’t want to be his friend anymore?

Immediately Taehyung seemed to notice the fear in his eyes, frantically rushing to undo the damage his words had done. “I’m sorry! I meant…” Taehyung took a deep breath, eyes flicking to the side before meeting Jimin’s again with determination. “Can I kiss you again?”

Those were the last words Jimin ever expected to come out of Taehyung’s mouth.

The logical part of him insisted that this must be another joke, something ingenuine. That was all it had been before, and all it ever would be. But his heart screamed at him to say yes, to give into all the years of pining. 

In a heartbeat, he had already chosen who to listen to.

Taehyung stepped up from his own chair to look Jimin in the eyes, to bring their faces close enough that he could feel Taehyung’s warm breath puff against his lips, and he nodded silently, looking up at his best friend with the adoration that had been in his heart before he had even been able to understand it.

He was half-prepared for it to all be a gag again, but instead Taehyung’s eyes stared back at him with relief and delight. Oh so carefully, he grasped Jimin’s face and leaned forward to slot their lips together.

As Taehyung’s soft lips moved against his, Jimin finally let himself relax, leaning into the kiss and letting out a low noise of bliss. Taehyung seemed pleased at that, his lips thinning in a smile.

Jimin could tell from the care Taehyung was treating him with, from his every gentle movement, that this kiss was genuine. There were feelings behind it.

When Taehyung finally pulled away, he leaned forward again to rest his forehead against Jimin’s. A giddy smile was on his face, but in a mere moment it was overtaken by a frown.

“I’m sorry, Jimin. I’ve been such an idiot. I think I like- no, love, you too. And I didn’t realize until I had to stop and think about it, and I hurt you because of that,” Taehyung whispered, voice dripping with shame.

The only thing in Jimin’s heart that beat stronger than the glee filling him was the need to see Taehyung happy, the need to wipe the distress off his handsome face and replace it with one of his beautiful smiles instead.

He practically leaped forward, wrapping Taehyung in a tight embrace, something he felt like he should have done ages ago. Taehyung let out a slight umpf at the impact, but the moment he recovered from his shock he reciprocated, somehow pulling Jimin even closer. Jimin smiled into his shoulder.

“I forgive you, Tae. It took me years to come to term with my feelings, too. And no one’s perfect,” he murmured into his friend’s ear before loosening his arms and pulling away from the hug to smile at him. It still hurt, the memory of Taehyung’s initial reaction – but it was something they would move past together. There was no use in holding a grudge against the person who made him happiest. “Especially not you.”

Taehyung snorted, shaking his head, and Jimin noticed that the sparkle in his eyes was back. Really back, for the first time in weeks. His eyes became softer after a second, a bit of anxiety slipping back in, but more than that there was fondness.

Jimin could get used to Taehyung looking at him like that.

“Really? You’re not…kidding, or anything? About forgiving me?”

“Of course not. You’ve always been my best friend, and you always will be. And you’re not kidding about loving me, right?”

Taehyung let out another laugh, like the idea was laughable. And it was, to him. “Never. I promise, Jiminie.”

Jimin stuck out his pinky finger, and Taehyung moved his own hand to meet it, wrapping their fingers together in a familiar motion.

“No hard feelings,” Jimin whispered, looking up at him, heart full of hope.

“And no more lies,” Taehyung said back, fully at ease.

•

The warm spring air blew a stream of stray cherry blossoms past Jimin’s face as he stood under the tree, a couple getting trapped in his hair. The scene around him was almost picturesque, lush grass under his feet and blooming flowers of all colors surrounding the area. 

Most beautiful of all was his boyfriend, Taehyung, who was squatting down with his hand out in an attempt to feed his cashews to the squirrels. He pouted as a few scurried away from him, but a few particularly brave ones ran towards him. Their little feet grasped around the nuts as they made a happy squeak before leaving. 

Instantly Taehyung’s face lit up again, a soft giggle tumbling out of his mouth as he smiled. 

They had been dating for half a year now, and yet he was still just as adorable as the day Jimin met him.

“The sign over there says you’re not supposed to feed them, you know,” Jimin said. Taehyung turned toward him and shrugged, smile still on his face.

“They’re still cute, so I’m still going to feed them,” he responded, and Jimin laughed, leaning down to take a nut from Taehyung’s hand and place it in front of the nearest squirrel. He let his hand linger on Taehyung’s for a moment just because he could, because even after all this time it still gave him a thrill.

Dating Taehyung wasn’t really all that different from being his best friend. Now they kissed, held hands, told each other they loved them whenever they wanted (which was often), but they had always told each other they were soulmates growing up.

And they were right. Jimin truly felt like Taehyung was his other half, like the two of them together were something special.

If there existed a thousand other universes, he knew that in each and every one he would choose Taehyung.

Soon enough Taehyung was down to his last cashew, which he popped into his mouth as he stood up. He dusted off his hands before placing them on Jimin’s cheeks to guide him into a kiss.

“I think these past six months with you have been the best ones of my life,” he whispered in Jimin’s ear as he pulled away, and dear God, he was so giddy, so happy with Taehyung.

“Pinky promise?” Jimin asked, wrapping his pinky finger around Taehyung’s before waiting for an answer.

Taehyung shook his head amusedly, but he still squeezed Jimin’s pinker gently to humor him. “Aish, you and your pinky promises.”

“You were the one who started it!”

“When we were five years old,”

Jimin broke into a fit of giggles, reaching up to place a peck on Taehyung’s cheek. “Well, it’s good you’re happy with our relationship, because you’re not getting rid of me now.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

If there was one thing any university student could agree on, it was their love of winter break. The pure white snow covering the ground in a thick blanket, the cozy atmosphere and the memories attached to it, the temporary relief from the stress of classes - it was always a more than welcome time of the year, and almost no one loved it more than Kim Seokjin, holiday enthusiast and burned-out culinary arts major. 

That especially applied this year, where he had been unusually homesick and had been longing to see his friends, who unfortunately all attended different schools. And now, after weeks of anticipation, pulling himself through his final projects of the semester, and counting down the days, this was his second to last day of classes before he was home free. With the styrofoam coffee cups littered across his desk and the 30 tabs he had just closed out of on his computer, he couldn’t be happier for that, because with his current environment and the excitement in the coming week, he doubts he would have been able to get anything done at the moment anyways. Right now, at least, he’s refreshingly free from responsibility.

The pleasant sound of upbeat music in his headphones is interrupted by a soft buzz from his phone, followed by the upbeat tone of a notification. Glancing at the lit-up screen, he sees a message from none other than Kim Taehyung, the occasionally clingy but mostly humorous and loveable man he considered his best friend. 

taehyuuunnngg: heyooo seokjin

WorldWideSugarGliders: hi!

taehyuuunnngg: can’t wait to see that boyfriend of yours over winter break ;) 

Boyfriend. Seokjin’s boyfriend. Taehyung wants to see Seokjin’s boyfriend over the holidays. 

He’s not sure what sort of bizarre imaginary friend Taehyung is referring to, because unless some drastic change has taken place or he’s unaware of a creepy unrequited lover, Seokjin has a grand total of zero boyfriends. He’s about to message Taehyung back to ask what in the world he’s talking about when a months-old memory he would have sincerely preferred to forget surfaces. 

In the past few years that Seokjin’s friend group had known each other, their friendship thankfully hadn’t changed much, with the band of six still managing to be as close as ever despite the physical distance between them as they separated to attend their different colleges. Sometimes it was hard, sometimes they didn’t talk much, but they managed to work it out. There had been one major change, though: relationships. 

Specifically the fact that all his friends, everyone in their little group except Seokjin, had found themselves in romantic ones. 

Seokjin had never considered himself a hopeless romantic, but he would be lying if he were to say that he never got a bit jealous looking at the way everyone else talked about their partners, how it seemed like all of them were so genuinely happy and satisfied. It didn’t help that one of those relationships was between Yoongi and Jungkook, so whenever they met up Seokjin would catch them making goo-goo eyes at each other anytime they thought someone wasn’t looking (someone was always looking). 

Was it mildly disturbing to see his normally silly friends so serious about something? Yes. Did it make him want to roll his eyes a bit at the pure sappiness of it all? Absolutely. But was it adorable? Also yes.

And he supposes that was why on a regrettable day two months ago, on one of their bi-monthly big group calls, out of pure idiotic instinct and a failed attempt to repress his own desire for the love he constantly saw, he lied. A big lie. A massive, un-hideable, almost achingly stupid lie. 

“Yah, Seokjin, you’re the only single one left! Saving yourself for someone special, huh?” Taehyung says teasingly, shit-eating grin ever-present as he sees Seokjin look away from the camera.

“I…no! I have a boyfriend, actually!”

And that was how Seokjin managed to completely screw himself over in a matter of five minutes. How was he supposed to get a boyfriend before winter break, when he would see his friends in person again? He hadn’t had any plan for that, actually, just deciding to leave it to Later Seokjin to figure it out. Well, now he was Later Seokjin, and he had not even the dimmest idea about what he was supposed to do.

Almost immediately after the call had ended, save for the way he lied in bed that evening and ruminated over every mildly embarrassing thing he had said, he had forgotten the entire thing. And now, two months later, here he was, having no idea what he was going to do. 

Should he just tell Taehyung he had been lying that day? He’s surprised Taehyung remembers, but Taehyung always had been one to get too involved in other peoples’ love lives. 

He knows that would be the smart thing to do, the most logical answer. But he also knows that Taehyung would tease him relentlessly until the end of time if Seokjin told him that he had lied about having a boyfriend for such a stupid reason. 

Would it really be so bad if he was to just try and keep his fabrication up for a bit longer? Well, it probably would be bad if it failed, but he’s sure he can find some way to get himself out of this without anyone finding out first. After all, in the past he had always had a penchant for overly creative solutions.

Sighing and mentally cursing himself for doing any of this in the first place, with his fingers tapping against the screen of his phone, he decides to do the same thing he does with most of his assignments: dig himself deeper into a hole of procrastination. 

WorldWideSugarGliders: he’s excited to meet you guys too!:

taehyuuunnngg: he’s heard good things i hope?

WorldWideSugarGliders:of course, what else would i say about my absolute angels of a friend group?

taehyuuunnngg : yeah yeah we’re not that bad you’re just a goody two shoes :P

taehyuuunnngg: clearly your boyfriend hasn’t cured your sarcasm

taehyuuunnngg: just kidding love you please don’t murder me in my sleep

Electing not to respond, Seokjin throws himself onto his bed, groaning in frustration as he shoves his face into the covers. Well, he can’t exactly go back now, not unless he wants to make the consequences worse than they would have been in the first place. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why did he choose to make things harder for himself? All he had wanted was a nice, relaxing holiday break with his friends, and he had managed to spoil it for himself with only a few sentences. 

Sighing, he finally pulls himself back to his desk, grabbing his nearby notepad and half-dry pen, scribbling in rushed handwriting on a piece of paper. Step One: Find a fake boyfriend . He might as well start now. So he asks himself two questions: what guys did he know that were his age, and more importantly, which ones didn’t already have plans for the winter break?

The first answer was easy enough - he had made quite a few acquaintances throughout his time at university - but the second one was…difficult. Obviously the vast majority of people, including him, already knew what they were going to do with their time off, and there was no way anyone would even consider changing their plans for a guy desperately trying not to embarrass himself. Who did he know who didn’t have anything in store for the holidays? His first thought was the most unfortunate (and likely) answer: no one. 

He’s about to just resign to his fate when he remembers one person, a man who had somehow slipped his mind for a moment. Kim Namjoon, a student in his year who tutored him in the one subject that he could just never seem to master, Calculus. He didn’t know much about him; handsome, genius, kind, and that was about it. What he did know, though, was that Namjoon fit his second criterion, based on a brief conversation they had had around a week before. 

“Ugh, I can’t wait for winter break. Calculus is killing my brain,” Seokjin groaned, letting his pencil drop out of his hand onto the table out of pure defeat. Namjoon gave a slight chuckle, patting him on the back reassuringly. “Me too, honestly. It’ll be here soon enough, though, you just need to get through what we have left first.”

“Just a week and a half more before I can go home and see my friends. What about you? What are you doing on the break?”

Namjoon shrugged. “Nothing, really. My parents will both be travelling outside the country for work, and none of my friends are going to be near each other, so I can’t really visit them. So I’m probably just going to stay here and chill, I suppose.”

Seokjin and Namjoon could probably be described as acquaintances at best, seeing as they did see each other often due to Seokjin’s arithmetic troubles, but they never talked outside of that, with their text history consisting entirely of repetitive “sorry, i can’t make it today!” conversations pertaining to tutoring. They weren’t friends, and neither of them had seemed particularly interested in changing that. 

So why would Namjoon agree to help him with this, if they weren’t particularly close? 

Well, Seokjin would just have to hope that he could convince the man to do it, because otherwise he really had no idea what he was going to do. There had to be some way that he could make the decision worth it to Namjoon. 

Hoping he’d actually be able to follow through on his hopes, he pulls out his phone again and opens his messages before he can chicken out. He would probably regret this later, but he needs a plan now , no matter how terribly thought out that plan might happen to be. 

WorldWideSugarGliders: hey namjoon! sorry if this is a bit sudden but i need your help with something

KimNamjoonRM: ok! is it calculus?

WorldWideSugarGliders: no, something else. it’s probably better if we talk in person

KimNamjoonRM: ah. want to meet in the library, then?

WorldWideSugarGliders: yes, are you able to come now?

KimNamjoonRM: yep, i’ll see you there

Seokjin gets up, wrapping himself in his black down coat and magenta wool scarf as he grabs them from beside the door. Shoving his phone in his coat pocket and preparing to brave the chilly outside weather, Seokjin opens the door, knowing that what he just did was probably the easiest part of the whole ordeal. 

•

Seokjin’s not ready for this. Not when he can barely look up at Namjoon, who’s sitting across from him at one of the tables in the library, black hair in a messy side part under a fluffy beanie and chocolate eyes looking at him in curiosity. Namjoon sips on a cup of coffee, hissing as he pulls it away from his mouth, and Seokjin can see the steam coming out of it. Briefly, randomly, he wonders what kind of coffee Namjoon likes, if he’d like Seokjin’s favorite caramel macchiato.

But that’s trumped by the more important issue at hand. Namjoon is staring at him expectantly now, head cocked to the side in curiosity, and it’s then when he inevitably asks Seokjin a question he knows he has to answer but doesn’t quite have the answer to. 

“So, what did you need my help with Seokjin?”

“Well, uhh…you don’t have any plans for the winter break, right? I remember you telling me that…” Seokjin fidgets with his fingers, and it’s practically an Olympian task for him to maintain his eye contact with Namjoon. Normally he wouldn’t be this anxious in a conversation, but this wasn’t normal - he’s asking someone he hardly knows outside of academics to be his fake boyfriend, which was something that he, for obvious reasons, had absolutely zero experience with. 

“Yeah, I’m just staying here,” Namjoon nods, a slight shrug following his words, but his eyebrows are still raised in a question, a question Seokjin still hasn’t answered. “Why do you ask?”

Seokjin sighs, wishing he could just bury his head into his arms and disappear into his pile of warm clothes with how much he’s embarrassing himself. He tries not to care too much, considering he’s about to embarrass himself a whole lot more. Tapping his fingers on the table, trying to calm his heart a little bit, Seokjin starts to get out the words as best as he can.

“God, I don’t know how to ask this. All my other friends are in relationships, so a few months ago I lied and said I have a boyfriend so I could feel involved, and I totally forgot about that today. So now they’re expecting me to show up over winter break with a boyfriend I don’t have,” Seokjin blurts quickly, feeling heat rush to his cheeks as he gets further and further into his explanation of his ridiculous problem. 

“Ok, so you made a mistake and you don’t have much time to fix it, I understand. But…how does this relate to me? Do you want me to help you tell them or something?”

Knowing how smart Namjoon was, Seokjin had been hoping, praying , that he wouldn’t have to explicitly say what he meant. But it’s obvious he hasn’t realized. Seokjin’s going to say this out loud, isn’t he? He’s going to have to ask Namjoon to be his fake boyfriend in all the mortifying glory of such a crazy request. 

“No. I…listen, my friends will make fun of me until the end of time if they find out I lied. I know it sounds stupid, but will you come home with me over winter break and pretend to be my boyfriend?”

Namjoon doesn’t move for a moment, and Seokjin feels a deep sense of regret, wanting to take back every word that has ever come out of his mouth, which only deepens as Namjoon finally processes what he’s said, eyes widening as his jaw drops without any words coming out, and Seokjin doesn’t know if he’s just seeing things from his own anxiety but he swears he sees the tiniest tinge of pink dust Namjoon’s face. 

“I fully understand if you’re not comfortable with that! I can try to find someone else, I’m sorry…” Seokjin exclaims, waving his hands in front of him frantically. Why, why, why, why, why did he do this?

“Could I…have some time to think about this?” Namjoon asks, and Seokjin nods, relieved that he hadn’t just said no immediately. Hope was definitely better than nothing, at least. “Yeah, that would work. I just need an answer by tomorrow, okay? Because later in the day I’ll leave.”

“Well, I’ll see you later, Seokjin,” Namjoon pushes his chair out from the table, standing up and brushing seemingly invisible dust from his long grey coat. As Seokjin watches his tall figure slowly get further away, not looking back once or leaving more time to say goodbye, his nervousness starts to slowly drain out. He’s starting to wonder if it was really all that worth it to set out on this endeavor just to try and imitate the feeling which captivated all his friends. He didn’t have an answer to that.

•

It’s around 23:00, when Seokjin is finally starting to drift off and retreat to his dreams, that Namjoon gives his answer. The high ding of a notification startles him right back into consciousness, and as he opens the phone to see the text, the dim light of his phone feels blinding. Though it’s a bit annoying, his mood immediately lifts again when he sees the contents of the message. 

KimNamjoonRM: i’ve decided i’ll help you. you have to do something to help me too, though

KimNamjoonRM: and there’s one condition: i’ll pretend we’re dating in front of your friends and do what we need to to make it look real, but when we’re alone, no lovey-dovey stuff. Deal?

WorldWideSugarGliders: deal! definitely deal. seriously, namjoon, thank you so much!!

WorldWideSugarGliders: what do you want me to help you with? i’ll do anything to pay you back for this

KimNamjoonRM: teach me to cook

WorldWideSugarGliders: really? that seems kind of small compared to what you’re doing for me

KimNamjoonRM: you just haven’t seen how terrible i am at cooking. You’re a culinary arts major, right? 

KimNamjoonRM: learning from someone who’s good at it is the best shot i have, and it might take a while

KimNamjoonRM: i’m just desperate to be able to make something other than burnt ramen

WorldWideSugarGliders: well i’m up for the challenge. you’re in good hands to learn cooking, trust me!

WorldWideSugarGliders: i’m planning to leave tomorrow afternoon. do you think you’ll be able to pack and be ready by then?

KimNamjoonRM: yeah, i should be able to do that

KimNamjoonRM: good night, seokjin

WorldWideSugarGliders: night, namjoon :)

Seokjin genuinely couldn’t believe his luck. Through Namjoon’s kindness and some bizarre miracle, his plan was actually beginning to work, and if he could make his luck run a little longer he might be able to get through all this. Smiling in triumph, he puts down his phone and buries himself back in his cocoon of blankets, falling asleep within a minute of when he puts his head back down on the pillow.

•

In the morning, as sunlight peeks in through the cracks in the blind and casts a warm glow across his bedroom and small mounds of snow drop off from the roof past his window, it’s not the light shining across Seokjin’s face that wakes him up, but yet another notification. Shuffling around in his bed and peeking at the time on his phone, even though it’s not early and it was probably better that he woke up now, he starts to seriously consider putting his phone on silent mode just to avoid any more potential mid-sleep awakenings. Regardless of his irritation, he unlocks his phone to check who unintentionally acted as his alarm clock. 

hobi-seok: taehyung reminded me about your guest for break, almost forgot about that lol

hobi-seok: welllll, now that i’ve remembered, what’s his name?? i don’t think you ever told us

WorldWideSugarGliders: namjoon :D

hobi-seok:oooo

hobi-seok: his name sounds kinda like tree, does he like nature by any chance? that would be a cool coincidence

Seokjin racks his brain for a moment, trying to remember if Namjoon had ever said anything about nature. If he lied about this without knowing, and Hoseok brought it up at some point and Namjoon wasn’t a big nature person, then his friends might get suspicious. They were supposed to be dating , after all, how could Seokjin not know something so simple about who everyone else thought was his boyfriend?

He comes across a dim memory from about a month before, something he’s surprised he even remembers. Namjoon had made an offhand comment about how he was sad the weather had gotten too cold for him to go hiking without feeling like he was freezing. It was a single sentence, and they hadn’t discussed it any further, but it was something, and something was all he needed.

WorldWideSugarGliders: yeah actually! he does, that’s funny

hobi-seok: he sounds like a cool guy. excited to see him! 

hobi-seok: you’re coming later today, right?

WorldWideSugarGliders: yeah, i’m planning to leave around 14:00

hobi-seok: alright then, see you later!

WorldWideSugarGliders: seeya, hobi

One potential mini-disaster avoided, likely the first of many. And so what if they were problems that he himself had essentially created? Seokjin had a plan, and if everything went well, he was going to smash through these perfectly avoidable problems regardless.

•

Just by helping Namjoon get his things into Seokjin’s car, Seokjin had learned a couple things about the taller man. 

One, he was clumsy. Very clumsy. Trip-over-his-own-feet-multiple-times-while-walking clumsy. Seokjin was honestly (pleasantly) surprised that Namjoon hadn’t smacked into the side of the vehicle at any point when they had put his suitcase in the trunk, what with how ineffective he seemed to be at controlling those long legs of his. 

Two, he was sarcastic. Quite a bit more sarcastic than he had ever noticed during their tutoring sessions, or he supposes more than Namjoon had ever let show during those. He likely just wanted to put on a more professional and helpful face, but now in this more casual environment, he let his more true personality shine. And shine, it did. Like the bright rays of sun that conveniently always appear right where you’re trying to look at something far away. 

“I still can’t believe I agreed to do this,” Namjoon says, looking out at the line of cars ahead of them. Seokjin wasn’t sure whether it was a car accident, road work, or something else entirely, but what he was sure of was the fact that that traffic was heavy that day. “How long is this car ride again? Two hours?”

“That’s when there’s not much traffic. We’ll probably be in this car for longer than that. On the bright side, though, you get to be in the presence of my handsome face for longer,” Seokjin jokes with a smirk, and Namjoon rolls his eyes, though he doesn’t make an effort to hide the slight smile on his face. 

“Yeah, this is the best time ever right here. You, me, leg cramps from sitting for so long,”

Seokjin wasn’t entirely used to this side of Namjoon, but he didn’t dislike it. In fact, he was starting to get sort of fond of it, even with how little time they had spent together. It was refreshing to see Namjoon more relaxed like this. 

“Ah, come on, it isn’t too bad. A bit annoying, yeah, but we'll be fine,” Seokjin waves his hand in the air casually as he speaks, the near standstill of the traffic allowing him to not focus almost religiously on the steering wheel like he usually does. All they’re doing is shifting the slightest bit forward.

“Whatever you say, Seokjin,” Namjoon says with a sigh, the smile never having left his face. “Just don’t be too sad when your boyfriend dies of boredom.”

“Hey, drama king! I’ll have you know I’m very interesting to talk to,”

•

“And here we are!” Seokjin announces as he pulls up the car to their destination. 

“Is that…a hotel?” Namjoon says in confusion. The building in front of them is taller than most of the other ones they’ve passed in Seokjin’s hometown. Windows signal many different rooms inside, and its design clearly isn’t one of a house. 

“After me and my younger brother left for university our parents moved into a smaller place, so we can’t stay there. I just booked a hotel for the time instead,” Seokjin explains, getting out of the car as Namjoon follows. 

“Damn, my legs hurt from not getting up for so long,” Namjoon groans, continuing to walk anyway. 

“Once we check in we can take a walk or something. I can show you around where I used to live,”

“That sounds nice, actually. Deal,” Namjoon says as the two of them walk into the hotel. Seokjin notices the other’s slightly improved mood as he checks in, and Namjoon even starts to hum a little as they walk to the door of their room. This was, surprisingly, going much better than he would have expected. It seemed his luck was actually holding up. Maybe Past Seokjin wasn't such an idiot after all. 

As they open the door and enter their temporary living space, the two could even be described as cheerful, comfortable in each other’s presence. Seokjin puts down his suitcase close by the door, resolving to deal with it later when he’s settled in a bit more and actually needs the things in it. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, Seokjin taps into his messages with Taehyung. 

WorldWideSugarGliders: we’re here!! just arrived at the hotel

taehyuuunnngg: great! can’t wait to see you too tomorrow

taehyuuunnngg: and the other guys too of course

WorldWideSugarGliders: can’t believe it’s been over three months since i’ve seen you guys in person :(

taehyuuunnngg: it really is too long

taehyuuunnngg: stupid university :/

taehyuuunnngg: anywho, i’m taking sunyoung on a date soon so i’ll be gone doing that

taehyuuunnngg: talk to you later!

WorldWideSugarGliders: ooo, have a good time tae!

“Hey Seokjin?” Namjoon’s confused voice brings him back from the actual romantic life of his friend into his own reality. “I…well, I think we have a problem.”

“What’s wrong, Namjoon?” Seokjin asks, looking up. But as his eyes flick around the room looking for a possible cause to Namjoon’s sudden shift in demeanor, he doesn’t have to be told. Even the quickest and least thorough of checks clearly revealed the problem at hand. 

This room had two people and one bed. 

And looking back on it, Seokjin knows exactly how it happened. For obvious reasons when he had first booked the hotel to make sure he could get a room during the busy holiday season, he had been planning on just going alone. When he decided to bring Namjoon along, he was supposed to change the booking and get a room for two people. 

He was supposed to, and he should have, but he didn’t. He had forgotten to, too caught up in his own nervousness at the time. Though Seokjin’s hometown wasn’t particularly large, it was still packed this time of year with visitors. From his prior visits, he knew the chance that they would be able to do anything about this was low. As mortification showed up on Seokjin’s face and realization on Namjoon’s, Present Seokjin comes to the conclusion that Past Seokjin was, in fact, a massive idiot. 

•

The bed isn’t tiny by any means, to the relief of both men, but as Seokjin lies on the mattress in his pajamas (which he had been embarrassed about at first, but surprisingly Namjoon didn’t make fun of him for them), he’s almost painfully aware of the fact that if he stretches out his left arm beside him at anything more than a roughly 60 degree angle, their two bodies will touch. Something in him is almost tempted to do it, for some reason he can’t explain. Maybe being in such close proximity with someone, especially someone who was in no way unattractive, was doing something weird to his heart. But whatever it was, Seokjin knew he wasn’t entirely opposed to what was happening, even though he knew he probably should have been. That, of course, didn’t mean he wasn’t slightly uncomfortable in a situation like this, nor was he unaware of the fact that Namjoon more than likely felt the opposite. 

“...Namjoon?” Seokjin murmurs, the sound of his voice breaking the silence that had formed as both of them had been trying to drift off. For a moment, as the silence fills the air again at the end of his words, he thinks that Namjoon is already asleep. He wasn’t sure if the man was a light sleeper or anything. But the blanket shifts slightly as Namjoon turns towards him, an eyebrow raised above tired eyes. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. I…well, obviously I didn’t mean for this to happen. I know this is weird and probably more than you were expecting when you agreed, and I apologize. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable at all, I swear,” Seokjin says, looking away in embarrassment as his voice drops to a whisper. He wasn’t sure if Namjoon was the type to accept apologies easily or be flustered by things like this. He wasn’t sure about anything at the moment. He hears a slight sigh to his left as the bed creaks from small movements. 

“It’s okay, Seokjin. I understand, I knew you weren’t the type of person to do that. Just a bit…unusual, I guess. Not like I won’t be able to sleep, though,” Namjoon’s grumbling voice trails off, and Seokjin sees that he’s facing the opposite direction again. Within mere seconds, the other man’s chest has rested into a steady rise and fall, soft snores coming from his nose. 

Seokjin lies there for a little longer, tired but kept awake by his thoughts. Thoughts of the man beside him, worries of how the trip would go, and hopes that he could just get through this and return to life as normal afterwards. Life where Namjoon and Seokjin were just acquaintances, tutor and tutee. 

Life where he could ignore the fact that his dreams that night consisted of deep-toned whispers and rose-dusted honey skin. 

•

When Seokjin wakes up the following morning, the first thing he notices isn’t the sunlight glaring through the window whose blinds they had forgotten to close, nor the barely audible sounds of conversations in nearby rooms, but the warmth surrounding him. The body heat of two people sharing the same space, warm enough to make Seokjin feel as if he’s enveloped in a cocoon of safety but not enough to be unpleasant. It felt comfortable, familiar despite the fact that he had never done it before, as if his body was telling him, Hey, this? You should really do this more often .

He wants to lie there and enjoy it for longer, but Namjoon, too, is disturbed by the bright light shining straight on their faces. Perhaps it would have been a good idea to take the five seconds to check last night so that they could sleep in a decent amount to make up for recently-pulled all-nighters, but hindsight is 20/20, and it seems as if the Seokjin and Namjoon of last night were blind, so there was nothing they could do now. “Thanks for waking me up, sun. Bags under my eyes are definitely the best way to make a first impression as someone’s boyfriend, bet I’ll look real handsome,” Namjoon groans. Seokjin shrugs, patting him on the back reassuringly. 

“You still look good, don’t sell yourself short,”

Namjoon turns to him, eyes slightly widened and mouth open as if he wants to say something, before he presses his lips together and gets up, staying silent as he picks up whichever clothes are at the top of his suitcase. 

“So, we’re going to go see your friends today, right?” Namjoon asks, walking towards the bathroom, carrying his randomly selected clothes, toothbrush, and toothpaste. Seokjin nods, and upon realizing the fact that Namjoon’s in another room and obviously can’t see him, quickly answers. 

“Yeah, a group date, they said. Sounds fun,”

“Do you think they’ll like me?”

“Huh?”

“Your friends. I don’t know what they’re like. What if they hate me for some reason?”

Tapping his fingers against the bed, Seokjin considers for a moment before speaking up again. He hadn’t really thought about what would happen if his friends didn’t like Namjoon, he had sort of just assumed that they would and left it there. “My friends…they’re kind of chaotic sometimes, but other than that, I think you’ll fit right in. They’ll love you, I’m sure of it. I’ve known them long enough,”

“I’ll try and take your word on that,”

Pulling his own clothes out, a plain cream sweater and jeans, Seokjin starts to get ready himself, knowing that if he didn’t start now he would probably end up staying in bed for longer than he was supposed to. He really had no idea how morning people like Namjoon were able to do it. They always seemed to get themselves together so quickly, whereas Seokjin could barely function for the first half hour after he got up most of the time. 

A series of small (but loud) thumps come from within the bathroom as various toiletries are knocked onto the ground, followed by a yell of “Shit!” by Namjoon. 

Scratch that, maybe he was more similar to morning people than he thought.

•

The only way Skewered on the Stick had changed since Seokjin had last been there was the addition of a few new workers: other than that, it was the same as he always remembered it, with its grey tiled floors, yellow walls, handwritten menu, calming decor, advertising of its secret ingredient which they promised to never share, and of course its two passionate owners, Jeongi and Yoonguk.

Seokjin wasn’t surprised that it had been chosen as their meeting place - the entire friend group was familiar with it, having gone there frequently in their adolescence both to eat food and talk to the people who ran it, and that made it the perfect venue for their double date. Or more like seven-way date? Septuple date? Seokjin didn’t know what to call it, though with so many people it would be more like a regular gathering than anything. Which meant that thankfully, there probably wouldn’t be too much focus on Seokjin and Namjoon. Probably.

Even though Namjoon had suggested they show up early, they weren’t the first there, thanks to Yoongi’s (and by extension Jungkook’s) unrelenting punctuality. Despite the man’s complete lack of a normal sleep schedule and the grogginess that often resulted from it, he somehow managed to always be early to everything, no matter how trivial. They see Yoongi and Jungkook before either of the two see them, with Yoongi resting his head on Jungkook’s shoulder, eyes closed and a hint of a gummy smile on his face. They’re often like that, though they tend to tone it down a lot while around the others. It’s sweet, domestic, Seokjin thinks. 

He wonders if he’ll ever find anything like that.

“So this is your boyfriend, huh? I was wondering when we’d finally get to see him,” Yoongi says in lieu of a greeting, sticking his hand out as the two approach and grasping Namjoon’s for a handshake. “I’m Yoongi, and this is Jungkook. Namjoon, right?”

“Yep, that’s me. Nice to meet you,” Namjoon smiles, pulling out one of the chairs to sit, but as he goes to do so he instead nearly falls straight onto the floor, barely managing to steady himself on time. Seokjin fails miserably at trying to suppress his laugh. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you sound like a windshield wiper when you laugh?” Namjoon says teasingly. 

“You. Many times,” Seokjin desperately hopes Namjoon will get his attempt to put some “history” into their relationship, knowing that the three words were risky. And his heart feels like it almost stops for the less than a second that Namjoon looks confused, only beating again as Namjoon’s smiles once more as he realizes and goes along with it. 

“You act like it’s not a fair comparison,”

“You talk like your laugh doesn’t sound like the way people show they’re laughing on the internet!”

Their conversation continues, flowing forward in a way that feels comfortable, familiar even as they jump from topic to topic and get lost within mazes upon mazes of random tangents. Even as it’s interrupted when he introduces Namjoon to everyone as they all settle in, the two of them are quickly able to get back into what they were doing. It feels nice to trade teasing remarks back and forth - banter, he might even call it. 

It takes about a quarter of an hour for the entire group to arrive, most of them being on time and some being the slightest bit late. Though all of his friends are interested in meeting Namjoon, asking him the typical “get-to-know-you” questions and laughing at the jokes he cracks, no one is more excited about it than Seokjin. Both because, well, he’s supposed to be pretending this is his boyfriend, and because he actually does find Namjoon intriguing. 

Engrossed in a riveting debate on which type of lamb skewers are the best, it’s easy to forget Namjoon hasn’t always been a part of them, with how well he meshes with everyone. Namjoon really had nothing to worry about: Seokjin’s friends loved him, his sarcastic interjections, his constant contributions, and the way he laughed at even the stupidest of Taehyung’s jokes. It was going well. It was going…normally, how Seokjin would have expected it to go if he was introducing an actual boyfriend. 

What wasn’t normal was the way Seokjin’s heart leaps and all coherent thoughts evaporate into thin air when he feels soft, slender fingers intertwine themselves ever so carefully with his, a large palm settling itself on top of its own. Snapping his head to the side so quickly he’s honestly afraid he’s broken his neck for a second, he sees Namjoon, smiling at him. That wide, bright smile, those dimples, directed at him . He squeezes Seokjin’s hand lightly, and Seokjin wears that his heart stops right then and there. 

It’s exhilarating, really, and he’s so caught up in the wave of feeling and it takes him a full minute to realize why it’s happening. Just to sell the act, to put on a show for Seokjin’s friends, convince them through tiny bits of traditional “lovey-dovey” things, as Namjoon had put it. This was just what was necessary, what Namjoon had agreed to go through with. Just a fake little thing that was, in all honesty, a big favor. He knows he should try to control himself, control his emotions, because it would probably appear suspicious if he was too reactive to every single thing Namjoon did. 

That knowledge, however, doesn’t keep Seokjin from enjoying it in the slightest. It doesn’t keep him from blushing an admittedly excessive amount whenever Namjoon’s fingers brush against him, when Namjoon wraps his arm so gently around his waist and pulls him close, when at the end of it all as they prepare to leave Namjoon presses his lips to Seokjin’s cheek in the most tempting ghost of a peck. 

Seokjin’s not entirely sure why he’s enjoying it all this much, the simplest acts of affection and the small touches. Perhaps he was just touch starved. Nothing to do with Namjoon himself - Seokjin just wasn’t used to such affection, and as a result reacted strongly to it. That must be it. 

That was all.

•

That first gathering between the whole lot of them was something pre-planned, something agreed upon earlier, something Seokjin had expected and made sure to tell Namjoon about in advance. It was something they were able to plan for, readying themselves to keep up the act and give his friends no reason to suspect that their “relationship” was anything less than pure, undeniable fact. Namjoon had made it clear that he didn’t want to do more than what was necessary, and Seokjin understood, because the fact that Namjoon had even agreed to do this at all was more than enough, more than he was expecting. 

Which is why Seokjin has no idea what Namjoon means when two days later, he calmly asks something that makes Seokjin do a double take, and then a triple take, because what ?

“Do you want to go on a date?”

Seokjin’s drinking some green tea he had warmed up for himself while scrolling through a random article on his laptop - or at least, he had been before he nearly chokes on his beverage, barely managing to sputter out a single word. 

“Huh? ”

Namjoon looks about as confused as Seokjin is for a moment before his eyes widen as he quickly waves his hands in front of himself, nearly knocking over his own cup of tea. “Wait, I did not mean it like that - I…shit, I really should have thought through my wording first. Let me say that again. Do you want to go out on our own, since your friends are probably expecting us to go out on dates of our own and not just with them? I just thought it would be a good idea, you know. To help make the relationship look more real,” Namjoon says, running his hand through his hair as he rephrases and looking at Seokjin, waiting for an answer. 

“Ah. Okay, that makes a lot more sense. That’s a great idea, actually, Namjoon. Where would we go?”

Namjoon grins, finishing off the last of his tea and wiping the moisture off the area above his mouth. “I have a place in mind already. It’s not too far, we can drive there. Let’s go?”

•

Before this entire trip, the only thing Seokjin had known about Namjoon was that he was an absolute genius when it came to Calculus who was somehow able to explain the concepts in a way that made sense, and when Namjoon was just his tutor that was good enough. Now, though, he was starting to learn more about him, some small facts like his endearing love for crabs and some bigger ones such as the love for nature that had turned out to be more than a lie he made up. What he hadn’t had any information on, though, was any personal interests the man had. For whatever reason it hadn’t really come up between them as they talked, so today he learned Interest Fact Number One about Namjoon: He liked art.

At first, he was sort of surprised as Namjoon pulled up to the National Museum of Contemporary Art, and he guesses it showed on his face, since the first thing Namjoon does once he parks is comment on it. 

“You alright, Seokjin?”

“Yeah, just didn’t take you as an art sort of guy,”

Namjoon chuckles at that as he opens the door. “Most people don’t. They see that I’m smart and they just go off the stereotype that I can’t indulge in anything creative. I like art, though. It’s a nice form of expression,”

And Seokjin had thought the man couldn’t seem any better, but of course he was wrong. 

Namjoon leads Seokjin in, quickly getting them through the entrance and paying for them to come in, and it’s clear that he’s been here before, probably many times. This is a whole new side of Namjoon to Seokjin, where he’s so familiar with what’s around him. He likes it. 

Seokjin looks around the first part of the gallery they find themselves in with interest, various pieces of more realism-focused contemporary art, subject matter varying from landscapes to people. He wasn’t exactly an art history buff, but he knew enough to appreciate the small details that made the style so distinctly modern. At least, he understood what was going on in these paintings more than in the “typical” modern art. 

“Hey, Joon, what’s your favorite type of art here? As in the more abstract pieces, or more detailed ones like…well, these,” Seokjin wonders aloud, but as he turns toward Namjoon to see if he has an answer, he’s looking at Seokjin strangely, as if he just suggested they burn the entire place down. 

“Are you okay? Is that…too personal of a question for you?” Seokjin hesitates, because for all he knows he might have accidentally just messed up whatever friendship he had been trying to build up. What if art was something deeply intimate to Namjoon, what if he associated some bad event with it and Seokjin had just upset him, what if-

Namjoon shakes his head adamantly, smiling lightly. “No, just wasn’t expecting you to call me Joon. It’s not bad or anything, don’t worry. I kind of like it actually. As for my favorite type of art, want to see my favorite exhibit here?” 

“Yeah, show me, Joon ,” Seokjin repeats the nickname teasingly, and Namjoon shakes his head but grasps Seokjin’s arm regardless and gently pulls him ahead. 

Interest Fact Number Two: The type of art Namjoon likes most is the more abstract pieces, works with meaning hidden in what appears abstract to the uninformed viewer. And even though Seokjin hasn’t known him for long, this feels wholly, genuinely Namjoon. It was almost concerning how quickly he had become attached to someone who had been only an acquaintance just days before, but he didn’t care much - it just felt nice to be around him. Namjoon, he found, had a certain way of making Seokjin feel good with only his presence and intriguing nature. 

Hell, Seokjin had never even liked abstract art. He might even go so far to say that before he had pretty much hated it, since most of the time it made him confused and when it didn’t it was because he was looking at pieces whose meaning were almost painfully obvious. Now, though, he was growing…fond of it. Or perhaps it was something else here he was growing fond of, but he didn’t hate what he was looking at either.

There was something so pleasant about how Namjoon explained to him his favorite pieces and the meaning that went into them, why they looked the way they did, with such passion in his voice as he stopped for nothing except to listen to Seokjin’s input. Seokjin, someone who didn’t consider himself much of an “artsy” person, was drawn to the conversation just by how Namjoon spoke. It was then and there that Seokjin decided that Namjoon had some sort of magic, something special that made him so alluring. Because somehow he was always left wanting to hear more about the tiny details which still held meaning, more about Namjoon’s opinions about the pieces, and honestly just more Namjoon. 

They move on to the last piece in the gallery, a pleasant series of greys and blues in intricate shapes, and Seokjin turns to his left, expecting an impassioned Namjoon to already be discussing the canvas in front of him. But to his surprise, Namjoon’s not even looking at it - the man’s eyes are focused on him, and Seokjin’s not sure how long it’s been that way. He feels himself blush under Namjoon’s soft but observant gaze, smiling slightly. 

“Something wrong, Joon?” 

Namjoon shakes his head, humming lightly and continuing to look at him with a dimpled grin. “No, just admiring the most beautiful piece of art here,”

Seokjin feels his cheeks heat up more, to the point where he doesn’t think they could get redder. Was that…flirting? Did Kim Namjoon, a man who he knew was most definitely out of his league, just give him a compliment that was nearly impossible to interpret in any way other than romantic?

Seokjin would have thought he was dreaming, except dreams were muddy and unclear, places where things could barely be understood. Right here and right now was as bright as the smile that adorns Namjoon’s face, as saturated as the pretty colors on the art of the walls. 

And perhaps it was, as Namjoon had said, just to convince his friends things were going well. Just to give them something to discuss to pass off the lie. But Seokjin had hope, and screw the likely reality, he was going to believe what he wanted to believe, and what he wanted to believe was this, believe in this moment where it was him and Namjoon together, something they were doing for the first time that already felt so right in a way he could never fully explain, only feel to the best of his abilities. 

Kim Seokjin was fine right now. He was absolutely fine and he most certainly did not have a quickly growing crush on Namjoon. He wasn’t smitten over his funny personality and sarcasm that gave way to something softer once you got to know him. He was in no way drawn to the man’s tall figure, deep dimples, and luscious thighs that he had been trying desperately to keep himself from noticing. And most of all, there was no way he wanted to kiss those plump pink lips of his. Seokjin was perfectly fine. 

•

Seokjin was not fine, and no matter how hard he tried to deny it, no matter how long he spent convincing himself his feelings weren’t real, he couldn’t escape the fact that he was falling, falling, falling so rapidly for Kim Namjoon. He was everything he could have ever wished for in a guy, handsome and intelligent and kind and just straight-up enthralling to talk to. It hadn’t even been a week since he had started getting to know Namjoon and Seokjin had already found himself enchanted by him. Everything he did seemed to make him want to get closer and closer. 

Even now, as Namjoon accidentally knocks the bowl of wet ingredients onto the floor of Seokjin’s parents’ house and nearly spills the bag of flour when trying to clean it up, he somehow still manages to be endearing as ever. 

Seokjin had thought it would be a good idea to make Christmas cookies together, both as something they could do (he passed it off to Namjoon as another fake date, but it was honestly just self-indulgent) and a way for him to start teaching Namjoon to cook. Now, with Namjoon having managed to somehow get raw egg in his hair, he wasn’t entirely sure his judgement had been correct. 

Namjoon, as it turned out, had a special talent: being able to destroy or mess up almost anything he dealt with. Seokjin had thought he was clumsy before, but it was nothing compared to the mess he was in the kitchen. Now Seokjin knew why Namjoon had been desperate enough to learn how to cook to agree to be his fake date; Namjoon was horrible at baking, and Seokjin would be willing to bet the same thing applied to cooking. They hadn’t even finished with the batter yet. After all of it, though, Seokjin couldn’t even bring himself to be irritated at Namjoon, not with how profusely he apologized and the jokes he slipped in their conversations to lighten up the mood again.

“Well, I guess you could say I’m doing a pretty crummy job at mixing these ingredients,” Namjoon says, smirking at Seokjin, who shakes his head at the man’s third stupid pun of the last half hour. Stupid, but it’s obvious Namjoon already knows that – it’s his goal, because Seokjin’s seen him make good jokes. This isn’t meant to be one of them.

“Well, now that we’ve got all of our ingredients out again, I’ll show you how to do it properly and not in a way where you manage to fling them off of the counter,” Seokjin says, moving closer as Namjoon picks up the bowl of dry ingredients and a whisk, putting them closer to the newly-poured wet ingredients. 

Namjoon pours the dry ingredients into the bowl of wet ones, and even though it’s the absolute bare minimum, at least he didn’t manage to spill them this time. 

“Good so far,”

“Yeah, because this is really easy to mess up, pouring something from one bowl into another,”

“You just knocked a bowl of ingredients off the counter while trying to mix them, my expectations are not high,”

“I can mix correctly, don’t you worry. It’s…well, everything else that I struggle with,” Namjoon shrugs, whisking around the ingredients, one hand on the whisk and the other on the counter. The whisk dings against the side of the bowl, slowly pushing it towards the edge of the counter. Seokjin shakes his head yet again, this time with a small smile. 

“I’m not so sure about that,”

Seokjin steps up from behind Namjoon, clutching the bowl in one hand and gently placing his other hand on top of Namjoon’s. Swishing the whisk around in a smooth, quick pattern, he demonstrates, and soon enough Namjoon gets the hang of it himself.

“Perfect. See, it’ll be a lot better this way,” he says, removing his hands and moving back again, and immediately misses the warmth of Namjoon’s hand. He supposes it was nice while it lasted. 

As he observes Namjoon continue to mix the ingredients how Seokjin showed him to, he realizes that even though the man is completely incompetent at cooking now, he has a great capacity to learn. He just needs to be shown how to do things, and from there he’s actually pretty good. Based on what he’s observing, Namjoon is incredibly quick to pick things up. 

“Hey Seokjin, is this mixed well enough? It looks good to me,” Namjoon pushes the bowl in Seokjin’s direction, who peers at it carefully for a few moments before looking back up at Namjoon with a smile. To his surprise, it was mixed perfectly, just enough to have a good texture without being overdone. 

“Yeah, it’s great. Good job, Joon!”

For just a moment afterwards, Seokjin isn’t quite sure if he’s seeing things, but he swears that he sees the lightest hint of pink on Namjoon’s cheeks before he smiles. It was probably just wishful thinking, though. 

That was all. 

“So what do we do now?”

“We take the dough, cut it into shapes, bake it, and then we’re done!” Seokjin exclaims happily, practically tasting the sweet taste of cookies already. Taking the dough in his hands, he puts it down on the table and gets out the flour. 

In the half a second that he’s turned away from the batter, Namjoon has already put his hands on it, pulling small parts of it and beginning to flatten it out. Seokjin walks over again quickly, placing his hand on Namjoon’s to get him to stop. 

“Wait, wait, wait, not yet. They won’t turn out well if we do it now. First we have to roll it over flour,” he explains, holding up the bag, and Namjoon nods, looking embarrassed. 

“Oh. That makes more sense,” Namjoon nods, watching as Seokjin sprinkles flour across the table, giving him the dough along with the parts that he had already taken off of it. Seokjin puts it down and uses the rolling pin to flatten it out. 

“See? It’s better this way,” Seokjin says, turning to Namjoon with a smile. 

“Wow, this actually doesn’t seem too difficult once you put effort into actually doing it correctly,” Namjoon marvels, and Seokjin chuckles. 

“Yeah, that goes for a lot of things,” Seokjin finishes rolling out the batter, which is now a flat, easy to cut singular piece. 

“And here comes the best part!” Seokjin pulls out a set of holiday-themed cookie cutters, ones he had had since he was a kid. The various metal shapes of trees, reindeer, snowmen, ornaments, and other things associated with the winter holidays all laid out on the counter, almost looking like ornaments themselves, were starting to really put him in the holiday spirit. Not that the various decorations around and the Christmas songs repeated an obnoxious amount of times didn’t, but it really made him realize how close the holidays were. 

And how close Namjoon was. The man was standing right beside him, practically leaning over his shoulder as he reached for a tree-shaped piece, and Seokjin was almost painfully aware of the way that their arms touched, their rolled-up sleeves allowing their skin to touch, the way even though Namjoon wasn’t even trying he could still make Seokjin’s cheeks hotter than hell, the way something so innocent and small could make him so happy. 

But it was just a little crush, and even with his little (and possibly fake) flirtations Namjoon probably didn’t feel the same way, so he would just have to deal with it. Indulge in it without chasing after anything more. 

That was all. 

Namjoon manages to drop the cookie cutter almost immediately after picking it up because of course he does, and as he drops to the ground to retrieve the clattering thing his soft hair brushes against Seokjin’s face, and call him whipped but Seokjin would be lying if he said he didn’t want to feel it more.

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying this all a little bit too much, the pleasant scent of moist cookies wafting through the air, Namjoon’s hopelessly endearing k-k-k laugh, the smallest of brushes against each other as Seokjin got unnecessarily close to show him how to do things. Namjoon wasn’t a good cook, not even close - but how fun it was to just do things with him more than made up for any irritation that could have been caused by his complete lack of skill. 

“Like this,” he says softly to Namjoon, guiding his hands so both of them are on top of the cookie cutter. “If your fingers are too close to the edge of it, you might end up cutting yourself. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Seokjin doesn’t care about all the rudimentary mistakes. Kim Namjoon could accidentally throw a tray of blazing hot cookies straight onto his face and he’d still be happy. It felt nice, here in this kitchen, flurries of snowflakes falling outside the window and a brightly lit Christmas tree in the next room over, and he wouldn’t change anything about it.

•

Namjoon didn’t like him back. That was what Seokjin kept telling himself, because more likely than not that was the truth and the absolute last thing he wanted was to get his hopes up about dating his Calculus tutor, be wrong, and then have to face him again once the new semester started. 

His hopes, however, seemed to have a life of their own, and just like the icicles outside they just kept spiking. And nothing can stop it from reaching a new high the next day when Namjoon walks up to him, phone in hand, clearly fighting a smile from his face. He holds the screen up to Seokjin’s face, the mediocrely designed homepage for a business’s website showing up. Looking closer at the light red-highlighted headings, Seokjin sees it’s for a bike rental place in his town, one he had passed by often growing up but never really thought about. 

“Want to go on another date?” he asks, sounding almost eager. Seokjin immediately nods, because of course he wanted to, but what exactly did the bike rental place have to do with this, he wonders? And when he asks, Namjoon is all too happy to answer, almost as passionate as he was at the art museum. 

“Well, I just love going on bike rides. It’s calming, you know? I was thinking it would be a nice date to go together, if you’re interested,” Namjoon says, eyes lit up in a smile so bright Seokjin swears it could rival the sun. 

“Yeah, I’m definitely interested. When did you want to go?” Seokjin asks, trying to stay cool right now. Stay cool, stay cool. It’s just Kim Namjoon , probably the most handsome man he’s ever seen, asking him on a date, and he had a small suspicion that it was genuine. He was fine.

“I was thinking…would now work?”

Kim Namjoon wants to go on a date with him now . Seokjin swears he’s going to faint, either from pure bliss or the embarrassment from the dorky smile on his face now that he’s unable to get off. Whipped. He was whipped for this man, he wasn’t even denying it now. Namjoon could ask him to go at two in the morning and he’d probably still say yes just because of that hopeful smile. 

“Perfect,”

•

The use of two white and plain but sturdy bikes ends up costing them 30,000 won and fifteen minutes of waiting in the literal freezing weather. Walking the bikes away from the store and onto the recently snow-cleared streets, Seokjin can see their breaths in the air the whole time. It’s not ideal biking weather, that’s for sure, and they both know it. Not even Seokjin’s thick jacket, warm knit hat, and scarf could fully defend him from the elements. What was more of a problem, though, was the thick piles of snow lining the streets, freshly fallen from the day before and starting to collect a small amount of dirt. Pretty to look at, sure, but inconvenient to get through on any sort of transportation.

“What if we crash into the snow?” he wonders aloud to Namjoon as they mount the bikes, Seokjin struggling for a moment to find his balance, as it’s been a fair amount of time since he’s last ridden a bike. 

“Well, we crash into the snow. Don’t worry, it’s not that bad. It’s easy to get out of, just a small annoyance is all,” Namjoon shrugs as he looks at Seokjin, but then has to steady himself to make sure he doesn’t fall off. Seokjin’s honestly surprised that so far Namjoon seems a lot more balanced than usual; he would have expected the man to be as clumsy as usual, but he seemed calm, almost effortless in his movements. Seokjin never thought he would describe someone riding a bike as graceful, but Namjoon managed it. 

“You see that building to the right, the one with the bread in its logo? That’s the best bakery here. Their bread is delicious, especially the one with raisins. I’ll get you to try it sometime,” Seokjin comments, gesturing with his head towards a shop on the right side, its more beige color palette making it stand out against the other shops in the vicinity. That, and the multicolored lights hung over the entire outside. Most of the other places had various Christmas decorations as well, but the bakery always went all out. He supposed the owners were particularly festive. 

“I’d like that. Your town is pretty passionate about Christmas, huh?” Namjoon says, looking around, gazing at the red and green ornaments spread about, white tinsel on shopfronts. No matter how small, most of the places around had some kind of holiday spirit going on. Seokjin was used to it - it was the same when he grew up - but it still always seemed somewhat magical to him. He wasn’t always the most festive person, but he did love the feel of the holiday season.

“People here definitely like it a lot. I do too, honestly. How is it where you’re from? Ilsan, right?”

“Ilsan, yeah. Depends on the place, but at least for my family we don’t really do much. I mean, my parents are on business trips for Christmas, so I think it’s pretty clear they’re not too into it,” Namjoon’s eyes are glazed in wonder, white lights nearby reflecting off of them. Seokjin almost wishes he could admire them for longer, but that wasn’t a good idea for two reasons: one, it would probably just deepen the crush he most definitely had on Namjoon, and two, it would probably creep Namjoon out. And though Seokjin wasn’t the world’s most experienced with romance, what he did know was that seeming like a creep was not the way to attract someone. 

“Do you like it, all the decorations here?” 

Namjoon hums for a moment before giving his answer. 

“I do. It’s new, but in a good way. Have you ever heard that English Christmas song that goes ‘it’s the most wonderful time of the year’? Well, probably not, but that’s one of the lyrics. I feel like this place is the real-life version of that, and it’s not a bad thing,”

Such a simple question and Namjoon actually put effort into answering it. That was just how the man was, Seokjin supposed, and that was one of his favorite things about him so far. 

“Namjoon…again, I’m sorry about all this. This is your first time really celebrating the holidays and you’re doing it while pretending to be the boyfriend of someone you barely knew before this,” Seokjin says, fidgeting slightly with the black rubber of the handles, and Namjoon chuckles as he looks back towards the road ahead of them, going along the slight curve of the street.

“It’s alright, Seokjin. I agreed to this, remember? It’s not like I had major plans for the holidays anyways, and you’re going to have to teach me to cook, which I’m terrible at, so you’re also paying me back. You don’t have to apologize anymore, don’t worry,” Namjoon’s tone is somewhat teasing, but at the same time genuine and comforting. Seokjin liked this other side of him, the sweeter side, contrasting with his usual sarcasm, both of which he had never seen during tutoring.

“Are you sure? It’s just that I know this was a lot to ask…”

“Unless you’re going to teach me some secret recipe for an apology cake, or endless sorries are an ingredient in basic dishes, we’re all good, okay?” Namjoon smirks playfully and Seokjin shakes his head, smiling nonetheless, because somehow even Namjoon’s smirk seemed breathtaking. 

“You know, I thought I would hate this at first. No offense, but I kind of thought that it would be boring and I’d regret agreeing,” Namjoon continues, and Seokjin’s smile drops slightly, and he risks losing his balance just to hit Namjoon’s arm softly in annoyance.

“Hey, I’m not that uninteresting!”

“I know, I know now! As I was saying, I didn’t really expect much before we left. But really, you’re not half bad. You’re fun to talk to, actually. I probably wouldn’t have tolerated this with anyone else, that’s what I’m trying to say,” Namjoon says, and this time Seokjin doesn’t even try to stop his hopes from flying into the outer atmosphere because he had never gotten a compliment like that before, much less from a fake boyfriend that could potentially turn into a real one. Granted, he had never had a fake boyfriend before now, either, but this definitely meant something to him. It definitely meant something from Namjoon, too, judging by the way he can barely look Seokjin in the eye without turning his head away immediately. 

“Me too, Namjoon. Thanks for being a good pretend boyfriend. I’ve never had one before, obviously, but I’d be willing to bet you’re the best one out there,”

This time, Seokjin knows he’s not just seeing things when he sees Namjoon’s cheeks erupt into a soft pink, and maybe it’s just influenced by his own desires, but he would be willing to bet all the money in the world that it wasn’t just because of the cold.

•

Sometimes an hour feels like it drags on forever, such as when you’re waiting in the doctor’s office or half-asleep during your least favorite class. With Namjoon, though, each minute feels like a single second, the rapid passage of time intertwined with banter and jokes and conversations and laughter. Things feel like they just flow when Seokjin is with him, so much so that they almost miss the time they’re supposed to return the bikes by. Namjoon, though, seems to be just as responsible out of university as he is in it (ignoring his lack of motor control skills), and remembers early enough for them to get back in time. 

They didn’t crash into any of the piles of snow littering the sidewalks and streets, which Seokjin honestly considers an accomplishment with how many there are, especially for Namjoon , who was pretty much chaos incarnate and could hardly go a few meters without managing to trip over his own feet. Sometimes it was just the air that tripped him up. On a bike, though, Namjoon had actually done pretty well.

As they take the bikes back to the rental place, a light flurry starts, fresh snow falling over the two of them, slowly dampening their hair and jackets as it melts. Seokjin begins to wish he had brought some sort of hat, fearing that his wet hair would just make him even more cold than he was at the moment. Somehow it seems that the weather is colder than it was before, or perhaps it’s really just the snow. Whatever it is, it’s freezing out, and Seokjin can practically feel an icicle forming on the tip of his nose. It’s not pleasant, and he’s just looking forward to getting back to the hotel. 

They’re probably a quarter of the way through their walk back when Seokjin feels a hand tentatively touch itself to his own half-numb left hand, the person’s palm pressing snugly against his and slender fingers settling themselves around his. Looking to his left in shock, it’s Namjoon looking at him, Namjoon with a soft but embarrassed smile and a cherry-colored face, Namjoon who squeezes his hand lightly. Seokjin raises his eyebrow at him. 

“Oh, sorry. Am I bothering you? I just thought since-” Seokjin cuts off Namjoon’s words with a laugh, amused at how nervous he seems. 

“No, I don’t mind. Just wondering why,”

“My hands are cold. I wanted to keep warm, that’s all. My fingers feel like they’re in a freezer out here!” Namjoon seems to find more confidence in his excuse, confidence Seokjin is all too happy to question with just four words.

“Didn’t you bring gloves?”

Namjoon’s smile falters for a moment, as he looks away, clearing his throat, but still grasping onto Seokjin’s hand. 

“Your hand…it’s comfortable to hold,” is all the answer Namjoon offers, but it’s more than enough to make Seokjin’s own cheeks hotter than a blazing fireplace, redder than Rudolph’s nose, and even though he tries to tell himself for the sake of his own sanity that it’s probably just more to “sell the act”, he knows that’s a complete lie. And so he’s more than happy the entire way to their temporary home as no gloves are put on and no hands are let go of. 

Later that night, when the sky has gone dark and the final flakes of snow have fallen, the two rest under the covers of the bed. Seokjin feels warm both inside and out as they slowly inch closer to one another as they drift off, with neither of them making any attempt to stop it. And he supposes Namjoon does, too, with the way they finally fall asleep, Namjoon’s arm wrapped loosely but comfortably over his waist.

•

For as long as they’ve known each other, Seokjin’s friend group has had one tradition that has stood longer than all the rest: wearing some sort of Christmas sweater, whether it be something that actually looks good or an absolute abomination that couldn’t possibly be worn unironically. That was why Seokjin had Namjoon dressed up in a loose bright red sweater with a smiling reindeer on the front surrounded by Christmas lights. Namjoon had protested at first, but it had only taken Seokjin promising to make more Christmas cookies for him to convince him to just go along with it. Seokjin had chosen for himself a green sweater with an excessively large Santa Claus along with some English words he didn’t know the meaning of, and some snowflakes spread across the rest of it.

“Was this really necessary?” Namjoon asks, fidgeting with the sleeves of his sweater that are somehow too long for even his lengthy arms at the same time as trying to balance the tray of Christmas cakes Seokjin has tasked him with carrying. “When I agreed to this whole thing I hadn’t realized I was signing up for the world’s most itchy sweater.”

“You’ve been faking dating me for a week and the sweater is the dealbreaker for you?” Seokjin chuckles. “Besides, it’s not that bad. You can take it off soon anyways, it’s just our little gimmick.”

“Fine. But I’m only in it for the cookies,” Namjoon grumbles, likely only stopping his rant because they had just arrived at the door, which has a wreath on it. The entire front of the house is decorated, actually, with multicolored lights and various festive hues of tinsel wrapped around it. If Seokjin was enthusiastic about the Christmas season, Taehyung was an entire fanatic, going all out every year. Seokjin knocks on the door, a bit of snow falling from the wreath onto his hand at the disturbance. 

Almost immediately the door opens to Taehyung waving cheerily, as if he had been waiting nearby for people to arrive. Which, knowing Taehyung, was probably exactly what he had done. “You’re finally here! You two are the last to arrive, come on in!”

“But we were five minutes early…?” Namjoon begins, but Taehyung has already spun on his heel, walking further into the jubilantly decked-out inside of the house. Seokjin shrugs at him, motioning for them to follow his friend in. 

“That’s just how Taehyung is, he’s a bit… passionate about holiday parties,” 

“Yeah, I couldn’t tell from all the lights outside,” 

Seokjin doesn’t respond to Namjoon’s remark, just grabbing his hand and lightly pulling him through the doorway and into the kitchen. Namjoon nearly drops the tray onto the ground, and the only thing which keeps him from doing that is steadying himself against Seokjin. He glares at Seokjin, who can’t contain his laughter. 

“Yeah, yeah, we both already knew I’m a klutz,”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not still funny,”

As they enter the kitchen, it’s clear they’re not the only ones already having a bit of fun; throughout the rest of the group the banter, singing, and jokes so terrible they wrap around to being funny again have already begun and are in full speed. There’s a lull as they stop to greet Namjoon and Seokjin, who are, indeed, somehow the last ones there, but it quickly resumes, the only change being that Namjoon and Seokjin are now participating as well. 

It takes mere minutes for Namjoon to make Seokjin’s heart feel as if it’s going to burst, sitting in the chair right next to him, arm snugly around his midriff and hand occasionally reaching up to entangle itself in his hair affectionately. It takes every bit of his willpower to not melt into a blubbering mess at the smallest of touches, to not reach over to the man ever so close to him and admit that he was enjoying all of this much more than he should, that he wanted so desperately for this to be real . 

“Aren’t you two a cute couple?” Taehyung practically coos at them from across the table, half-teasing. The two smile at each other, a knowing sort of smile that the others likely just perceive as sweetness. A few moments later, though, Namjoon asks a question that seems to come completely out of the blue. 

“Could I talk to Jin alone for a moment? In another room, or something?”

“Sure. Just don’t die or anything,” Yoongi shrugs. 

Namjoon guides him to the living room, hand in hand, and they settle a bit too far apart for Seokjin’s taste, and by that he means roughly half a meter. He tries (and mostly fails) to not pay much mind to the mistletoe close above them, convincing himself that Namjoon must not have seen it. 

“Something wrong, Joon?” he says, and Namjoon frantically shakes his head, eyes widening. 

“No, I’m all good! I was just wondering…” Namjoon hushes his voice a bit. “Are you ever going to tell them the truth about all this?”

“Nope,”

Namjoon’s eyebrows knit together, face morphing into one of confusion as he stares intently at Seokjin. “Are you sure? I mean, we’re going to have to stop all this at some point, right?”

Seokjin doesn’t miss a beat before responding. He can’t, not now, not with Namjoon alone with him, not when he means every word he’s saying. 

“I don’t plan on that,”

Namjoon frowns a bit, though he steps a bit closer, and Seokjin’s gaze falls on his lips. His big, cushiony lips. With the chapstick Namjoon had applied before they left, they look almost dolled up. 

He can only imagine how it would feel to kiss those lips. And suddenly, right now, he’s filled with a feeling of want .

“Huh?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Hearing the way Namjoon’s breath suddenly stops, seeing his eyes widen as he unconsciously leans the slightest bit closer to Seokjin’s face, Seokjin can’t even say he regrets his moment of impulse. Both because God did he want to kiss this man so badly, and because he’s confident Namjoon feels the same way. Namjoon was clearly a good actor, and smart too, but there was no way all of it was fake. Not the things he said on their dates, not the way he wanted to hold Seokjin’s hand, and definitely not the way he had literally cuddled with Seokjin in a bed they shared .

“I…what?”

Seokjin reaches out his hand, gently holding onto the skin of Namjoon’s impossibly soft cheek, admiring his tan skin in the warm glow of the tree beside him. Seokjin had no idea how someone was even allowed to be so gorgeous, let alone so smart and funny and charming and everything . Even his little imperfections, the way he could never those long limbs of his and his tendency to go on and on about what he loved, were endearing.

“Can I…kiss you?”

Seokjin wants so, so badly to hear Namjoon say yes, to have confirmation that Namjoon likes him back just as much. He wants to know that Namjoon wants to be his just like he wants to be Namjoon’s. It feels like an eternity of waiting in what’s likely only a single moment of silence before Namjoon finally breathes again, quietly giving the answer he wanted. 

“...Yes,”

Eagerly, Seokjin pushes himself up a bit, pressing his lips to Namjoon’s, savoring the way the other man’s breath hitches at just a peck. Their lips move against each other, an experimental rhythm, trying to see what works. It’s Namjoon who gains enough confidence to take it further, biting gently on Seokjin’s bottom lip, and he can’t help but respond with a whine. Namjoon shivers, clutching Seokjin’s sweater and pulling him closer, but with regret, Seokjin pulls away lightly. 

The pure bliss in Namjoon’s eyes as he stares down at him makes Seokjin want to do it again, again and again, but unfortunately he has a bit too much self control for that. His hand intertwines with the soft strands of Namjoon’s black hair, and Namjoon smiles down at him, a giddy type of smile, before flushing a pretty crimson. His confidence is completely gone as he manages to stutter out a single sentence to Seokjin. 

“Your lips are…nice, soft,”

Seokjin chuckles, but he’s still stuck in his own little dreamy daze as well. He can hardly believe that he did it. For once he mustered up the courage to just ask someone out. Well, it wasn’t quite that, but he did it . He gestures to the space above the two of them, a few leaves of mistletoe hung from the ceiling using light blue string. “Look, we’re even in the holiday spirit,”

Namjoon shakes his head as he looks up. “You planned that, didn’t you? Idiot,”

“Dork,”

Namjoon looks like he’s about to respond again when Seokjin puts his mouth up against his ear, whispering quietly to make absolutely sure that none of the others could hear. “Want to be my boyfriend? For real this time?”

“Yes, definitely yes,” Namjoon whispers back immediately, and Seokjin shudders a bit because Namjoon’s pleasant deep voice sounded even better in such a hushed tone. “Just wish I got to ask you first.”

“You know what will make up for that?”

With a smirk and a nod, Namjoon it’s Namjoon who leans in this time, grasping Seokjin’s cheeks and pressing their lips together with urgency. Namjoon takes one of Seokjin’s lips between his, and he can feel Namjoon smile against the kiss when it draws a noise from him. And with no confession to stop them, they feel no need to stop. Not when Seokjin pulls on Namjoon’s hair to deepen the kiss, not when Namjoon’s hand slips through the bottom of his (admittedly much too itchy) sweater and rubs his waist, note even when Seokjin pulls away for a second, giggling that they need to calm down or Taehyung will hear them and tease them for it for the rest of the night. 

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chapter list:

chapter 1: meet-not-cute - 2.9k words

chapter 2: stupidly tall and stupidly rich - 3.9k words

chapter 3: it's all in the (lack of) details - 2.3k words

chapter 4: the first to lead the fight - 3.4k words

chapter 5: old friends, new clues - 3.4k words

chapter 6: a letter bit of regret - 2.9k words

chapter 7: a break in character but not in case - 3.3k words

chapter 8: lead the way in - 3.8k words

chapter 9: clothes to you - 3.4k words

chapter 10: not-such-a-blast to the past - 4.5k words

chapter 11: the cycle of death - 3.6k words

chapter 12: feelings and faking - 5.1k words

chapter 13: all fired up - 4.2k words

chapter 14: fell for it (and you) - 4.1k words

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It was six years ago, when Yoongi was just a quiet loner and Namjoon just an introverted nerd, that the two had first met.

Yoongi remembered it better than he should have - a consequence of the fact that everything he felt for Namjoon was more than he should have felt for someone who was just a friend. Every detail, every word, stuck in his mind for him to recount to himself whenever he thought for long periods of time about Namjoon, which happened to be a lot.

At the time, Yoongi’s only friend other than the stray cat he fed on the route to school was the piano in the music room there. Old, normally covered in dust, scratches covering the wood of its outside, it certainly wasn’t the prettiest piano there was, but to Yoongi, it was everything.

That afternoon was spent like so many others in Yoongi’s life: practicing music on the piano for as long as he could before he inevitably had to bury himself in schoolwork for the rest of the night. Music was his relief, and he was pretty good at it, too, owing to his hours spent working on his skills.

Usually, no one interrupted him by entering the room, and the few times that anyone did, they quickly left upon seeing his cold glare. It wasn’t exactly Yoongi’s intention to be cruel – he simply had no interest in talking to any of them, and clearly none of them wanted to talk to him, either, so why let them disrupt his peace any longer than they had to?

But Yoongi could tell from the moment that Kim Namjoon stepped through the door that he was different. A good sort of different, the sort that made Yoongi interested . 

In his arms was a far-too-high pile of textbooks threatening to fall over at any moment onto the ground next to his shoes whose laces were tied tight and neat, a head of dyed-blonde hair brushed pristinely save for a few loose strands over his forehead. His uniform fit him well, and he was easily at least 5 centimeters taller than Yoongi.

His eyes didn’t hold the normal confusion or even irritation Yoongi normally saw in the students who encountered him here; rather, he seemed curious, intrigued, like he wanted to see more, a light smile on his face. Yoongi let his fingers come to a rest on the keys, staring at Namjoon with a neutral expression, waiting for whatever would happen next.

And Yoongi tried not to make it the first thing he focused on, he really did, but with his tall stature and the dimples at the side of his plump lips, it was impossible to deny that the boy really was handsome.

“I, um…I heard music in here, so I decided to check it out. That was you, right?” Namjoon said, staring right back at Yoongi, as if cautious of the other boy. Yoongi honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he had built up some sort of reputation for being aggressive, but for some reason he didn’t want to drive away the boy standing in front of him.

So, in what was pretty much a historical first for him, Yoongi greeted Namjoon with a smile. “Yep, that’d be me.”

It was only when Namjoon’s body relaxed and his smile became easier that Yoongi realized Namjoon had been tense, his expression a bit hesitant. Now, he looked much more comfortable, and somehow Yoongi felt better knowing that.

“You’re really good at that. The piano, I mean. It sounds…pretty. How long have you played for?” Namjoon asked, taking a few steps closer to Yoongi.

“Hmm…my whole life, I guess. As long as I can remember, at least,” Yoongi shrugged, but internally he felt a sense of pride about it.

“Wow, that’s a while! No wonder you’re so good, then. Probably should have guessed,” Namjoon chuckled, eyes wide. The book at the top of the pile fell from the movement, and quickly Namjoon scrambled to pick it back up, expression turning to panic. Which, of course, only made all the rest of the books fall too. 

As Namjoon tried and failed to balance several books in his grasp while still picking up the others, Yoongi’s body acted on its own, standing up from the stool he had been sitting on and crouching down next to the boy to pick up the last few textbooks.

Yoongi was about to mentally curse himself for acting out of pure instinct, something he intentionally never did, but the way Namjoon smiled at him then shut his mind up completely. 

“Thank you,” Namjoon said, standing back up, wobbling a bit to keep himself from falling over from the weight of his pile. Yoongi just shrugged with a small smile in response. “So, who are you, anyways, piano prodigy boy?”

“Name’s Min Yoongi. I’m 16. How about you, music room invasion boy?”

“I’m Kim Namjoon, 15 years old. Nice to meet you, Yoongi. Though, I thought that you would be younger than me, since, you know…” Namjoon gestured vaguely towards Yoongi’s legs, and immediately Yoongi knew what he was talking about. He smacked Namjoon lightly on the arm with a snort.

“Yah, I'm not short! I’m average height! You’re just really tall,”

“Sorry about that, then, average height Min Yoongi-ssi,” Namjoon smirked playfully.

“Dork. And call me Min Yoongi- hyung ,” Yoongi shook his head, smile wider than ever.

“Alright then, Yoongi-hyung. Want to be friends?”

Yoongi felt his eyes widen. Someone was offering to be his friend…no, not just offering, they actually wanted to be his friend - for the first time in years . He was only half-sure he wasn’t dreaming at the moment. 

“Ah, really, ye- ” Yoongi cleared his throat, stopping himself in the worry that he might be too enthusiastic. “I mean, uhh, sure! That would be nice. I guess.”

Namjoon chuckled. “Well, I have to go about now. ‘Spose I’ll just meet you here again tomorrow, then.”

And meet Yoongi again tomorrow he did. As well as the next day, and the next. 

Yoongi was right about Namjoon. He was different, the good different. He was funny and caring and an absolute genius, spouting random trivia to Yoongi any chance he got, eyes always lighting up whenever Yoongi would sit back and listen to him talk about his passions. Soon enough the piano was barely used whenever Yoongi visited the music room - the primary purpose of him going there now was to meet with Namjoon in a place that was sort of their own. They became each other’s best friends, more confidential with each other than they were with anyone else.

Every day, they got closer. And every day, Namjoon seemed to get more beautiful to him.

As it turned out, piano was Yoongi’s first love, and Namjoon was his second.

•

“Yoongi-hyung, you remembered to get us some popcorn, right?” Namjoon questioned the moment Yoongi walked through the door – this week it was his turn to buy their groceries – to which Yoongi just smiled, pulling out the box of microwavable popcorn he had bought. He could never forget the popcorn. Or, more accurately, Namjoon would never let him forget the popcorn.

“Extra butter?” Namjoon peered at the box closer, trying to answer his own question.

“Yeah, yeah,” Yoongi slung the box onto the table next to Namjoon. “Decided to get you a treat this time. We can’t always have it, though, it’s seriously unhealthy.”

“I know, hyung. I like it though,” Namjoon threw Yoongi a fake pout that Yoongi just smiled at before the younger man eagerly opened the box, taking out a packet of his favorite movie-time snack and putting it in the microwave.

Six years after they had first met, now the two of them were roommates, had been for a few years now at this point. Yoongi was 22 and Namjoon was 21, and in all the time that’s passed, Yoongi’s feelings for Namjoon had only grown stronger.

The demanding schedule of college left little time for them to spend with each other outside of simply doing their coursework in the same room, but they did all they could with the time they did have. And that was why the two of them were doing what they were doing right now - their weekly Friday movie night. 

This week, like most weeks, they were going to watch some historical-themed movie that Yoongi had already forgotten the name of, since historical movies were Namjoon’s favorites and Yoongi never had the heart to tell him that the genre bored him. He would never want to see that spark in Namjoon’s eyes when Yoongi agreed to his movie picks disappear, so he just went along with it.

The movies themselves were never his favorite part of their movie nights, anyways. Namjoon was.

After ten minutes, seven of which were spent cleaning up the popcorn kernels that spilled on the floor when Namjoon accidentally dropped the hot popcorn packet after opening it and then heating up another bag, the two of them ended up sitting on the couch next to each other, the title sequence beginning to play.

This part was what Yoongi liked. Him and Namjoon, close together, sharing a bowl of popcorn between them. The word domestic had popped into his head once to describe it, the thought immediately putting a smile on his face. Thankfully, Namjoon had just thought he was smiling at one of the jokes in the movie at the time. 

He paid a bit of attention to the movie in case Namjoon wanted to discuss it at some point, which Namjoon usually did, but most of his mind was focused on Namjoon.

Namjoon’s shoulder right next to his. His hand brushing against Yoongi’s. Their legs bumping together occasionally under the blanket they shared since Namjoon often got cold if he sat in one place for too long.

Small things. They were all small things. But to Yoongi, each touch added more fuel to the warmth in his heart, each time Namjoon giggled at a scene next to him sending a rush of dopamine through his brain. 

The little physical contact they made always had Yoongi happy. Content. Hopeful even, sometimes.

Abruptly, he felt the weight of Namjoon’s head drop onto his shoulder, his hair tickling the side of Yoongi’s neck. Dropping his eyes, Yoongi saw a scene that always seemed just as beautiful as the first time he had seen it – Namjoon’s peaceful sleeping face, eyes closed and soft snores escaping a slight pout every few seconds. He allowed himself to smile then, brushing Namjoon’s hair away from his forehead and observing him for a few moments.

He really had no idea how anyone could be so handsome yet so adorable at the same time.

As much as Yoongi was tempted to gaze just a bit longer, it was becoming a difficult task to keep his own eyes open now. It was late, the movie only a few minutes away from its end. With a yawn, Yoongi let his head droop to the left towards Namjoon, holding the boy just a bit closer before he drifted off to sleep as well.

•

Namjoon was hiding something from him.

A few days after their movie night, as they sat down having dinner together, that’s what Yoongi concluded. He wasn’t sure what that something was, but he knew that it existed – the way Namjoon tapped his fingers against the table like he always did when he was nervous and spent more time shoving tteokbokki around his bowl with his chopsticks than he did eating it was enough for Yoongi to know that something was up.

More specifically, from the way Namjoon looked up at Yoongi like he was about to say something but then looked down a total of four times just in this one meal, Yoongi guessed Namjoon wanted to ask him a question, but was hesitant to do so. And Yoongi wasn’t just about to let Namjoon suffer from whatever was going on in silence, so he decided if Namjoon wouldn’t speak up, he would do it for him.

“Something bothering you, Joon?” Yoongi said before shoving another piece of tteokbokki in his mouth, trying to keep it casual. Namjoon looked up at him, blinking, not having expected Yoongi to catch on to the fact that something was off. He never did.

“Ah, um, no, hyung. Everything’s fine. Just sort of tired from my classes today,” Namjoon responded with a nervous laugh. Yoongi raised an eyebrow at him.

Namjoon was an awful liar, unable to control his body language for the life of him. Plus, he was never this fidgety when he was tired, usually acting more like a pile of goop than a functioning human if he was lacking sleep.

Yoongi looked him in the eyes with a sigh, putting down his chopsticks and resting his head on his hand, paying full attention to Namjoon. “Joon-ah, tell me what’s wrong. It’s me. You know I’d never judge you.”

After another moment of eye contact, Namjoon finally took in a deep breath, nodding slightly. “You know Kim Seokjin, right?”

“Yeah, I have a class with him and the two of us were paired for a project together once, so I know him a decent amount, I guess. Why?”

“Well…ah, I’m only asking this because you’re my best friend and I know you won’t make fun of me like you said, okay? I’m serious, don’t tell anybody!” Namjoon exclaimed, his fidgeting ceasing for a moment as he gripped the table, staring at Yoongi intensely.

A solid quarter of Yoongi’s brain was occupied with thoughts of how cute Namjoon looked at the moment, but he smiled at Namjoon, doing his best to focus that attention back towards his friend’s words – he was curious about what he had to say, after all.

“I promise I won’t,” Yoongi said, and some of the nervousness slipped out of Namjoon’s eyes. 

Namjoon’s next words were quick, loud, and completely and utterly devastating. 

“I want to date him and I need your help!”

The wave of shock that crashed over Yoongi then was cold and sudden, no time for his brain to even try to grasp for any explanation other than the truth. Because the realization of what was happening was obvious, painfully so.

Namjoon liked someone. Namjoon wanted to date someone. And it wasn’t him.

His mind couldn’t even begin to process how to feel yet, and he supposed some of that showed on his face, since Namjoon seemed to interpret his expression as one of confusion.

“Since…you know him, you know? Better than I know him so far. So I thought that you’d be the best person to ask,” Namjoon continued, looking at Yoongi pleadingly. Yoongi just nodded in response, both because he didn’t know what to say and even if it did, his mouth wasn’t cooperating with his brain at all right now.

Sadness washed over him in the next few seconds, taking over the puzzlement in his mind. Namjoon, his best friend, the man he had had a crush on for years, didn’t like him back. Not only that, he liked someone else.

He had always tried preparing himself for this scenario, had always known in the back of his mind that it would have to happen someday, but it still hurt. The sting only made it harder to wade through the mountains of thoughts in his head all fighting for the top spot.

But instead of listening to any of them, Yoongi did his best to put a smile on his face and hoped to whatever stupid cursed love deity that might exist that Namjoon wouldn’t be able to tell that it was fake. 

“‘Course I’ll help you, Joon! Anything to make you happy. I bet it’ll be fun to plan everything together!” 

Every word made the hurt more intense, every breath like shoving a knife further and further into his heart. He did mean part of it, though.

Anything to make Namjoon happy.

Because at the end of the day, as much as he craved Namjoon’s touch and his hugs and wanted them to be something more, Yoongi cared for Namjoon more than he cared about himself. And so if what made Namjoon happy made Yoongi suffer, so be it.

Anything to put a smile on his face.

“Really, hyung?” Namjoon’s eyes immediately lit up, the anxiety on his face fading away as he looked up at Yoongi, deep dimples appearing. “Thank you so much! You have no idea how much this means to me, I’ll make it up to you, I swear!”

Yoongi felt like he was dying inside, both from the guilt of feeling so selfish wanting Namjoon all for himself and from the reality he had to face knowing he’d never get that.

“No problem,” he said, forcing the smile on his face to get just a bit wider.

Namjoon continued to insist that he’d pay Yoongi back somehow, and at some point Yoongi stopped arguing. Because it was true, really, that it was a problem. A big problem.

Just not for the reasons Namjoon thought. 

•

Yoongi couldn’t get himself to stop staring at Kim Seokjin for the entirety of the communications class they shared the next day. He had never really paid much attention to the young man before other than when they had worked on that project together, but he did know some things about him. And that made it hurt all the more to know Namjoon liked him.

Because though he hated admitting it, he could understand why Namjoon felt the way he did. Seokjin was clearly handsome with his perfect, symmetrical face and impossibly broad shoulders. He had seemed nice enough when Yoongi interacted with him. He was pretty funny, too, or at least he tried to be, always doing his best to cheer people up. 

He was, essentially, everything Yoongi had always felt he was not.

It made sense, and no matter how hard he tried Yoongi found himself unable to get over that fact.

Why had Namjoon never liked him instead?

Yoongi tapped his pen against his notebook, bringing himself out of his thoughts. He should be focusing on taking notes on the lecture right now. His boy problems could wait for later.

Unfortunately, the logical part of him that wanted to focus on studies wasn’t nearly as strong as the part of him that was having those boy problems. He flicked his eyes between the professor and his notes, willing his gaze not to move towards Kim Seokjin again.

As he scratched his pen onto paper, scrambling to write down all the most important points so he wouldn’t be completely screwed on their next exam (though Namjoon would surely help him study for it anyways), his mind kept going. And going. And going.

Why couldn’t he be so attractive or have such good humor?

Kim Seokjin had no idea how lucky he was.

Yoongi found himself scowling down at his notes, digging a hand into his hair, desperate to dig those thoughts out of his head. He couldn’t focus like this. Shut up, he willed into his brain, hoping that his train of thought gone rogue would listen.

It didn’t.

Why had Namjoon never noticed just how much Yoongi liked him?

A light poke on his left shoulder was what finally freed him from the mental hole he had gotten himself trapped in. Yoongi looked up, blinking slowly, to see another classmate of his he vaguely recognized, a couple years Yoongi’s junior with a shy smile, wide eyes, and a head of fluffy black hair covering the tops of his eyebrows. They had sat near each other a few times. Yoongi had helped him write the introduction to a report once. And that was all the interaction they had ever had. Jungkook, Yoongi was pretty sure his name was.

“You alright?” Jungkook whispered, eyes scrunched up in concern.

Yoongi took a deep breath. He should have realized he probably looked weird to everyone around him. Nodding his head, he muttered back, “Yeah. Just…sorta stressed about some personal matters. That’s all.”

Jungkook nodded back, giving Yoongi a comforting pat on his shoulder again before turning towards the professor, hastily adding to his own notes.

Jungkook helped more than he knew by pulling Yoongi out of his thoughts. He couldn’t be bitter towards Kim Seokjin. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t know. And Yoongi couldn’t change how things were going, so he couldn’t be jealous of Seokjin either.

If Seokjin was going to be the man that made Namjoon happy, Yoongi just had to accept that, no matter how much it tore his heart apart.

•

It was only three days into their plan and Yoongi already wished he had never agreed. He wished he wasn’t such a coward. He wished he had the balls to actually tell Namjoon how he felt instead of concocting some stupid project to get Namjoon with someone else.

Alas, Yoongi did not, in fact, have the balls to do that. So here he was, sitting beside Namjoon at the table, wishing he could burn a hole with his eyes into the section of a notebook the two of them had dedicated to the task they were working on.

That task being one of their brainstorming sessions on how exactly Namjoon was going to ask Seokjin out. With Namjoon’s anxiety over things going well and Yoongi’s undying perfectionism, the two of them had come up with (and subsequently dismissed) well over two dozen ideas at this point, some of them partially-developed and some of them just wisps of a plan. Some of them barely differed from each other, only containing slight improvements to an already-neglected proposal, and some of them were radically different.

The only thing all of them had in common was that talking about them made Yoongi want to hole himself up in his room and cry. Which, unfortunately, wasn’t an option for him.

The closer the two of them got to developing a plan that had a good chance of succeeding, the happier Namjoon got. The more his eyes brightened and his dimples deepened as he smiled. The more he thanked Yoongi for both his help and his company.

And Yoongi wasn’t willing to give any of that up. Which is why when in the middle of their third brainstorming session Namjoon asked him a question that wasn’t related to their current attempt at a strategy, it was a welcome relief to what he had been subjecting himself to.

“Do you like anyone, Yoongi-hyung?” Namjoon looked up at him curiously, resting his chin on one hand, the other laying on the table, loosely clutching the pen he had been using. Yoongi, caught off guard seeing as he had been sipping on a half-cold cup of coffee during the lull in their conversation, spit out a bit of his drink, quickly pulling an arm over his face to keep the rest of it from drenching the paper in front of him and quite literally ruining their plan – not that he would be opposed to that, the part of him which still hadn’t gotten over his jealousy whispered in the back of his mind.

The almost-choking-on-his-drink part wasn’t quite so welcome. Yoongi smiled, though, and decided to give Namjoon an answer. “‘Course I do. We’re friends, aren’t we? You think I’m some sort of demon who hates everyone?”

He had never specified that it would be a serious answer. 

Namjoon rolled his eyes, lightly smacking Yoongi on the shoulder. “You know that’s not what I mean, hyung. Do you like anyone romantically?”

Yoongi’s first instinct, of course, was to say no. There was no way he could tell Namjoon he liked him, especially not right here, right now, perhaps the absolute worst place and time to do so. 

But would there really be any harm in just rolling with it? Making someone up just for the sake of it? Maybe it would even help a bit with the fact that he knew he couldn’t get with the guy he actually liked. 

No, Yoongi decided, there wouldn’t be. 

“Yeah, actually,” he said, before putting a finger against his lips lightly. “Not telling you who they are now, though. It’s my little secret for now. Besides, you’ve never met them.”

“Ah, really? Come on, hyung, tell me what they’re like at least!” Namjoon begged, and Yoongi couldn’t imagine a single world where he’d even attempt to say no to Namjoon’s plump-lipped pout.

“Fine, if you’re really curious,” Yoongi jokingly held his hands up in surrender. Namjoon leaned towards him, eager for information, and Yoongi’s heart pounded just a bit harder in his chest. “He’s the perfect guy, really. Tall, definitely handsome, but he’s still unique in both looks and personality. He’s sweet and adorable but a genius at the same time. He’ll get all passionate about small things like animals and characters but if you let him he’ll talk to you for hours on end about whatever new scientific discoveries he heard about recently, and he gets so excited about it. It’s endearing. He’s endearing.”

For all Namjoon’s smarts, he had always been oblivious, incredibly so. Yoongi had known from the moment he had started talking that Namjoon wouldn’t pick up that he was talking about him, no matter how obvious he was, no matter how much he talked about things that were so inherently Namjoon. Hell, he could start talking about Namjoon’s dimples and the boy probably still wouldn’t realize it was him who Yoongi loved.

But he did hold himself back, because really, he felt he could never truly run out of things he liked about Namjoon. Every day he seemed to discover some new small detail that made him fall ever so slightly deeper. At this point he couldn’t imagine a world where he wasn’t enamored with him.

He couldn’t stop it even if he wanted to, but the thing was, he didn’t want to. Knowing Namjoon liked someone else brought him pain, but being his friend, being close to him and knowing they were each other’s closest confidants, brought him more joy than he ever felt otherwise.

Namjoon smiled at him, breathtaking and beautiful, and a part of Yoongi wished he was still as oblivious to Namjoon’s feelings as Namjoon was to his. “Ah, he sounds great, hyung! If our plan with Seokjin works I can help you get with him next!”

Yoongi swallowed down his urge to say no. Namjoon was so genuine, so cheerful at the thought of helping Yoongi too.

But why couldn’t he see that Yoongi liked him? 

Yoongi knew it was mostly his fault – he was the one who had these feelings, and he had to be the one to confess them, so Namjoon couldn’t be blamed for Yoongi’s lack of courage. 

So instead he nodded, trying his best to maintain the dreamy smile on his face from talking about Namjoon. “Yeah, that’ll be fun! Another project for the two of us.”

The two of them.  

Yoongi knew he should be happy for Namjoon. He should be excited about his best friend finding someone he loved. He shouldn’t have the bitterness that was currently crawling its way up his throat like bile.

But he wasn’t happy, and that bitterness was still there, and instead of excitement, the only thing in his heart was the desire for it to remain just the two of them.

•

Today was the day.

Not the day Yoongi would actually be honest with Namjoon. The day Namjoon would ask out someone else and Yoongi would lose the opportunity to confess his feelings without being a piece of shit interrupting his best friend’s relationship.

Part of him was fine with that, already having resigned to the fact that Namjoon would never be his. Part of him was screaming at him to finally do what he had been avoiding for years now. Another part of him still wanted to curl up into a crying ball.

He chose to only listen to that first part. 

It had taken one week, a total of seven of those brainstorming sessions that he spent the entirety of anticipating their end, to decide on their plan, and a few more days for them to finally decide they were prepared to enact it. Namjoon had, with Yoongi’s help, made six strawberry-flavored cupcakes, carefully decorating each one to look like a sugar glider, which Yoongi had remembered was Seokjin’s favorite animal. After Seokjin’s last afternoon lecture and before he went to the library where he normally went to study for the next few hours, Namjoon would go up to him with his homemade treats and ask him out.

Namjoon, anxious as he always was, had planned every detail down to the socks he would wear. He was prepared, and Yoongi couldn’t imagine being in Seokjin’s place and rejecting Namjoon, standing there as perfect as always with the smile he had whenever he talked to Yoongi about Seokjin. 

All that would have happened a few hours ago. Now, it was 21:37. Yoongi hadn’t seen Namjoon since he wished him luck before each of their first classes in the morning, and for once in his life he wasn’t looking forward to seeing him.

Yoongi was fully prepared for this to be quite possibly the worst day of his entire life, and the best day of Namjoon’s. Well, not exactly prepared, since he was sure this would be the moment he would finally give in to his urges to smother his face into his pillow and sob, but he knew what to expect. 

Namjoon, sitting on their couch, giddy and earnest to share every detail of what had happened and how happy he was and how happy Seokjin made him. Yoongi, nodding and smiling and faking happiness like he had been doing for a week and a half now. 

Maybe Seokjin would be there, arm wrapped fondly around Namjoon’s waist, smiling and celebrating their new relationship. 

Dear God, Yoongi hoped Seokjin wouldn’t be there. 

Yoongi slipped his key into the lock of the door, fumbling with it a bit as his fingers shook. Wrapping his hand around the door knob, he knew he’d never be ready to see Namjoon with someone else, so he might as well just rip the band-aid off now. 

Resisting the urge to close his eyes and brace himself, he turned the knob and found himself in him and Namjoon’s shared apartment, eyes filled with the sight of-

Darkness.

The lights, usually a bit too bright for Yoongi’s taste, were off. The little bit of light in the room came from the TV off to the right, and Yoongi could make out the familiar dialogue of Namjoon’s favorite K-drama playing. The one he played when he wanted comfort, whether it be for a small issue or something he was practically tearing himself apart over. 

The bright, happy scenes from the show illuminated Namjoon’s figure, curled-up and lying down on the couch, clutching tightly onto a Ryan plushy he only took from the side of his bed if he was miserable. 

Something wasn’t right. Something went wrong with Namjoon’s plan to ask Seokjin out. 

Briefly, a faint sense of victory flowed through Yoongi. Namjoon wasn’t with someone else. It was still just the two of them. Just how he had wanted. 

Immediately afterward, guilt flooded over him and overwhelmed any bit of positive feeling he got from the scene. He couldn’t be the sort of asshole to celebrate something that made someone else devastated. Especially when that someone was Namjoon. He’d never want anything that could hurt the love of his life, at least not willingly. 

His next instinct was to help comfort Namjoon in any way he could, to do for him what the show playing on screen likely wouldn’t. Stepping closer, he realized he had been standing there staring for several moments now. Apparently that was long enough for Namjoon’s brain to have dismissed the bit of noise he made while opening the door.

Namjoon shifted, head turning towards Yoongi as his feet shuffled against the carpet slowly in a failed attempt to not disturb him more than he had to. “Hyung?” he croaked out, and Yoongi moved faster upon hearing the way his voice choked up. 

Kneeling at the side of the couch, beside Namjoon’s head, Yoongi was able to get a closer look and assess his state. The boy had clearly been crying for a while before stopping sometime in the past few minutes or so, but tears were beginning to well up in his eyes again as he met Yoongi’s gaze, sniffling. His eyes were puffy, cheeks covered with trails of dried tears, bottom lip trembling. 

“Joon-ah? What happened?” Yoongi asked gently, doing his best to keep the shake out of his own voice. It was hard to look at Namjoon this way, so anguished and small, the opposite of his natural state. 

“Hyung, he doesn’t like me. At all. I don’t think we could ever even be friends. He looked like he was embarrassed I was talking to him or something and I’m not even sure what I could have done right because I’m pretty sure I did all of it wrong. I made such a fool of myself, there were people nearby and they all saw me being awkward and getting rejected. And then I just ran because I didn’t know what else to do. Stupid. Stupid,” Namjoon’s words broke into sobs as the tears finally rolled down his face again, snot obscuring some of what he said and his frequent sniffles  and stutters interrupting anything that was clearer. “I’m so stupid. I don’t even know why I tried.”

Before Namjoon could deprecate himself further, Yoongi wrapped his arms around his body, engulfing him in a solid hug, the type Namjoon liked best when he was in the mood for affection. Namjoon hesitated for a moment, body stiffening at the touch, and Yoongi was scared that maybe he had taken things too far and Namjoon was overwhelmed. But then he felt Namjoon’s arms on his back, pulling him closer so he could rest his head on Yoongi’s shoulder. 

The position was a bit uncomfortable, Yoongi having to hold his head up in a way that made his neck ache to keep from smothering himself in Namjoon’s chest, but not enough for him to consider breaking it off or pulling away. He considered adjusting himself a bit, but Namjoon seemed happy with the way things were, and he was afraid Namjoon might take any movement as a sign that Yoongi wanted to get away from him, and in his current fragile state Yoongi didn’t want him to get that idea. 

The two of them were silent save for Namjoon’s occasional hiccup and a bit of sniffling as his sobs started to die down. The drama still playing on the TV was the loudest thing in the room now despite its low volume, and Yoongi could clearly hear the sound of the lead couple sharing their first kiss, a sight Yoongi had seen and heard a thousand times from watching it over and over with Namjoon, blissful and inevitable.

It felt ironic to Yoongi.

•

It had been a while since Yoongi had come here. 

Namjoon’s favorite coffee shop was a cozy little place a few blocks from their apartment that the two of them had discovered shortly after moving into their place together when they had decided to explore to see what was around. Namjoon had immediately fallen in love with their well-brewed drinks, and ever since he had made a tradition of coming there any time he needed an extra caffeine boost. Yoongi occasionally accompanied him, but for the most part he made his own coffee at home. 

The pleasant smell washed over him the moment he walked through the door, and Yoongi would have liked to stop here for a bit to appreciate it, but he was here on a mission.

Namjoon, who had cried himself to sleep last night on the couch – Yoongi had carefully moved him to his bed afterwards – was still asleep, so Yoongi had decided to get him an iced coffee and a breakfast sandwich the place sold that he loved to try and cheer him up a bit.

That was why he had woken up at 7 in the morning on a Saturday, which was much too early for his tastes. Namjoon was a morning person, and Yoongi wanted this to be a surprise. 

The only people in there with him were a few early-morning commuters desperate to get their pick-me-ups, and so it wasn’t long before Yoongi walked out with a cup and a small paper bag, both warm in his hands as he returned home. 

Knocking softly on the door to Namjoon’s room earned him a quiet groan and a drowsy call of “You can come in, hyung,” from the other side after a few seconds’ delay. Frowning, a bit worried for Namjoon (never one to get up past 7:30, and right now it was 7:43) and a bit guilty for waking him up from his sleep, Yoongi pushed open the door. The sight of Namjoon’s fluffy bed head and puffy cheeks poking out from under his blanket sent a surge of warmth to his heart. 

“Got you an iced coffee, Joon-ah. And a breakfast sandwich. Egg, ham, and cheese,” Yoongi waved around the bag clutched in his left hand for emphasis. He couldn’t see Namjoon’s mouth, but he could sense his smile by the way his eyes brightened as Yoongi walked closer, putting the goods down on the nightstand next to the bed. Namjoon pushed himself up, his back resting against the headboard now, and Yoongi could finally see the smile on his face.

He had already concluded years ago that Namjoon’s adorable dimpled smile was the most beautiful sight in the world, and he was convinced of that more every time he saw it.

“Ah, hyung, you didn’t have to do all this. Thank you,” Namjoon said, immediately grabbing the sandwich from its bag, taking a large bite into it and letting out a delighted noise. He tried to say something that sounded sort of like another thanks, but it was muffled by the food in his mouth to the point where it was almost completely incomprehensible. Yoongi chuckled, pushing away a few stray strands of hair that had fallen in front of Namjoon’s eyes so the boy could see better as he devoured his food like a starved baby bear. 

“What else am I supposed to do, not take care of my favorite roommate when he needs it?” 

Namjoon turned to him after he finished the sandwich, brushing a few crumbs off his pajama top, a more serious look in his eyes now. “Really, hyung, you don’t have to put yourself through so much effort for me. I’ll be alright,” Namjoon smiled at him, as if to say, hey, look I’m already happy, I’m already okay!

Maybe it would have worked if the smile actually reached his eyes, if it was actually genuine. Which it wasn’t. Yoongi would have been able to know that even if Namjoon was better at faking it, really.

Because Namjoon had always been the type to fake happiness as well as he could if he thought it would make someone else feel better or worry them less. It was just the sort of person he was, more concerned with the wellbeing of other people than of his own. 

It was part of the reason why Yoongi was so hesitant to tell him about his true feelings. Namjoon would probably try to pretend he liked him back just to satisfy him. And that wasn’t something Yoongi wanted to push on him, nor was it the sort of relationship he would want with him.

The sight of a few tears pricking at Namjoon’s eyes as he sniffled lightly, blinking to try and stop them, pulled Yoongi out of his thoughts. Because Namjoon was still upset. Really upset, if he was failing this hard at hiding it. 

He didn’t give himself time to think about it before he had plopped himself down by Namjoon’s side on the bed and wrapped his arms around Namjoon, resting a hand in his soft hair. He left it there for a moment, just appreciating the feeling, before he began caressing it tenderly. Having his hair rubbed, for whatever reason, always calmed Namjoon down.

A few tears fell from Namjoon’s eyes, leaving wet spots on the back of Yoongi’s shirt, but then his stiff body relaxed into Yoongi’s gentle touches. A choked up sob still managed to get its way out of his throat, and he shook for a few moments longer. It takes another minute or so for him to completely calm down. 

“I’m sorry, hyungie. Shouldn’t be such a baby,” Namjoon muttered against his shoulder. 

You’re my baby, is what Yoongi wanted to say then, but didn’t, both because he didn’t really like being so mushy, and because that would be creepy.

“Don’t say that, you’re my best friend,” Yoongi said instead. “You’re sad and that’s okay. Hyung’s here for you.”

Namjoon pulled away from him, sniffling as he wiped away a few remaining tears, a slight smile on his face now. “I don’t deserve a hyung like you. Thank you for always being there for me, Yoongi-hyung. And understanding when I’m…well, like this. I’ll make it up to you one day. I promise.”

“Ah, it’s alright, Namjoon. I like caring for you, don’t worry,” Yoongi said, patting Namjoon on the back. 

“I love you, Yoongi-hyung,”

“Love you too, Joon,”

And it was bizarre that hearing the man he’s loved for years say I love you to him hurt, but it did, because he knew Namjoon didn’t mean it the way he did. 

•

It seemed to come out of nowhere six days later when Namjoon blurted out a question to him one day as they sat together eating some kimchi stew. He was biting his lip lightly like he almost didn’t want to let the words out, and Yoongi could feel the way his right leg shook under the table.

“Hyung? The guy you told me you liked, do you still like him?” Namjoon stared at him, unblinking as he awaited his answer. 

“More than ever,” Yoongi replied, and it was nothing but the truth.

Namjoon frowned slightly from across the table, nodding silently, and Yoongi swore he saw a disappointed look in his eyes. 

•

Yoongi knew that something was off the moment he got Namjoon’s text.

Namjoon, perhaps the most dedicated student he knew, would never take a break from his schoolwork just to text someone if it wasn’t extremely important and urgent. And yet, during a time Yoongi knew he had a class, he had texted Yoongi, merely saying, Hyung, I need to tell you something later today after our classes.

And that was it. That was all that Yoongi had been left with, a vague message Namjoon didn’t elaborate on at all to itch at his brain for the next few hours. He had been eating lunch at the time, but after reading over Namjoon’s text multiple times, he barely had any appetite left.

It had been a bit over three weeks now since Namjoon’s failed attempt to ask out Seokjin, but things still weren’t the same as they were before. And honestly, Yoongi wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about it.

Namjoon was acting different. He seemed more clingy with Yoongi, more eager for his usual friendly affections. Hell, he had even caught Namjoon staring at him with an unreadable yet undoubtedly positive expression on his face a few times.

Yoongi didn’t know how to feel about it, but his heart sure as hell did. The part of him who had crushed on Namjoon for years now was absolutely thrilled about this development.

Yoongi had always tried to keep his hopes low when it came to Namjoon. He couldn’t let himself be heartbroken by confusing mere gestures of friendship with something more. It was hard to do that, though, with Namjoon acting this way. He couldn’t stop his heart from leaping into the air whenever Namjoon gave him a hug before they went to sleep or did his best to cook dinner for the two of them even if he wasn’t good at it with the excuse that he “wanted to give Yoongi-hyung a break and take care of him every once in a while”.

But even with all the change, he still couldn’t figure out what Namjoon’s message actually meant. All he knew was that it was unusual.

Later that day, during the early evening when the sun began to sink under the trees, Yoongi finally arrived home. Normally he would have stuck around at the library for a bit longer, but today, he went straight home from his final lecture. And it was only when he finally stepped through the door that he realized just how unusual things actually were. 

Namjoon, normally so calm when he had time to prepare what he had to say, so articulate and pedantic, was an absolute mess, stumbling through his words from the moment Yoongi entered the apartment. His hands clutched his hair as he paced around the apartment in front of Yoongi, and the few sentence fragments Yoongi was able to catch sounded like pure nonsense for the most part. 

He grabbed a few loose pieces of paper with text printed on them from the table where they had been sitting. Yoongi could see various words crossed-out, messy handwriting in the margins. Namjoon shuffled through them frantically, his words a bit clearer now that he was directly facing Yoongi. “I tried- tried writing letters to tell you, I did, but I just didn’t know - what should I say, and writing it down still didn’t help-”

Namjoon’s stuttering his way through an explanation of how he had tried to tell Yoongi, but Yoongi didn’t even have any idea what Namjoon had wanted to tell him, and clearly in this state of mind Namjoon isn’t going to spell it out for him clearly either. He stepped forward, gently yet firmly placing his hands on Namjoon’s shoulders, prompting him to stay still. 

“Namjoonie, Namjoon-ah. Calm down. Take deep breaths,” Yoongi instructed, Namjoon doing his best to follow what he was telling him. “What’s got you so worked up, Joon-ah? What do you want to tell hyung?”

Namjoon took a final deep breath before letting more words spill out of him, a bit less quick and much more comprehensible now. “Hyung, I…” he hesitated for a moment, as if unsure whether he should let himself say more. “I think I like you. As- more than a friend.”

Namjoon’s head drooped down, unable to keep eye contact with him anymore, but he didn’t pause again before continuing. “ Love you. Or maybe it isn’t long enough to say that yet. I’m not sure how long it’s been. I think…it’s been a while now. Months. I just didn’t realize before, I think. I just…I don’t know, hyung. All I know is that I love when you hug me or touch me or play with my hair, and I love talking with you and I just feel…complete. I guess. When I talk to you. It all feels right. And I always want it more. I want us to be more,” Namjoon took another shaky breath, right hand clutching his left arm. “I’m sorry, hyung. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I know we can’t. I know you like someone else and obviously you’d want to be with them instead of- well, me. I just wanted to be honest with you. Because we both deserve that, I think.”

Namjoon looked ashamed, a sad expression on his face as he fiddled with the papers still in his hands, curling into himself as if he expected Yoongi to be angry at him, and the sight broke Yoongi’s heart. Stepping even closer so that their chests were practically touching now, Yoongi lifted up Namjoon’s chin with his fingers and leaned in, pressing a soft, chaste kiss to his lips. 

Namjoon gasped into his mouth, shocked, but quickly reciprocated, moving his lips against Yoongi’s in an exploratory rhythm. Yoongi felt like he was going to explode with the rush that was going straight to his heart – Namjoon’s lips were just as soft and pillowy as he had always imagined them to be, his small noises just as delicious as they poured out of him. 

After a few blissful seconds longer, Namjoon pulled away, his cheeks flushed as he gasped for breath. “Hyungie-” was all he could manage to get out, and Yoongi realized that at some point during the kiss Namjoon had grabbed his shirt, and now his fingers still gripped it loosely. In that moment, he was staring at Yoongi like he was truly the most wonderful thing in his entire world. His beautiful eyes sparkled, and as a smile took over his face his dimples dug at the sides of his mouth. 

Yoongi wasn’t given a chance to respond before he was pulled forward for another hungry yet loving kiss, and kissing Namjoon was so perfect that he found that he didn’t mind at all.

There would be other times for words, for discussion. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Taehyung knew something wasn’t entirely right from the fact that when he woke up, Namjoon was still snoring loudly next to him, dark brown head of hair tickling his nose to the tune of his boyfriend’s rhythmic breathing. It was peaceful, yes, but off. Taehyung wasn’t the biggest Valentine’s Day enthusiast, but Namjoon certainly was, and he had their special date for today planned to a tee, to the point where Taehyung could feel himself growing fond of the holiday too. They would wake up earlier than usual, make a nice breakfast together (or, more accurately, Taehyung would do most of the cooking while trying to keep Namjoon from burning the apartment down), and head to their favorite barbeque place for lunch, a feat they could only manage because Namjoon made the reservation an entire month in advance since the place was insanely popular, and for good reason in Taehyung’s opinion. Just the thought of it made his mouth water. 

Or at least, that had been the plan, but right now it’s only 20 minutes earlier than they would normally get out of bed on a lazy weekend, and Namjoon’s still facing the other way beside him, and strangely enough he seemed to be…shivering. Taehyung frowns - maybe he had hoarded the blanket a little too much when he slept last night - but decides that if Namjoon’s not going to be the one to lead them through their plan, he’s going to do it himself. Gently, he gets out of bed, slowly walking to the other side, pushing the hair away from Namjoon’s forehead and placing a kiss on it to wake him up. After only a moment of contact, though, contact that would have normally been blissful, he pulls away as Namjoon groans softly.

Namjoon’s skin was radiating with the inferno of a fever, the heat of his forehead burning on Taehyung’s lips and juxtaposing the cool room around them. As Taehyung lays his hand on his cheek, he discovers that it’s unusually hot as well, but despite that, Namjoon is shivering . If he had had only a hunch that something was off before, he’s sure about that now. 

Namjoon tugs the blanket snugly around his body, head half covered by the dark cloth. 

“Cold…why is it so cold in here…?”

The room was perhaps a degree lower than the average room temperature, considering the two men both slept better that way, but cold it was not.

“Namjoon, are you okay?” Taehyung asks, rubbing Namjoon’s back through the comforter, already knowing the answer wouldn’t be yes just by staring at the cocoon of blanket below him.

“It feels like I’m stuck in a freezer, so no, not really,” 

“Are you sick?”

“I…think so, yeah. I’m definitely not healthy, at least,” Namjoon’s voice is a bit muffled, the blanket pulled over most of his head now, seemingly desperate to stay warm. Taehyung continues his mini-massage before pulling his hand away, to which Namjoon makes a small mutter of protest. 

“I’ll make you some soup and get you some medicine, okay?” He can tell Namjoon nods by the slight movement of his messy black hair before Namjoon peeks out from under the covers to give him a smile. 

“Thanks, Tae,”

“Of course, Joon. I can’t let my boyfriend be miserable, can I?”

“Nah, you’d never. You love me too much for that,” Namjoon’s smile is now a playful smirk, and Taehyung ruffles his hair lightly. 

“Yeah, and you know it, too. Be right back,”

When Taehyung does return, a couple of pills clutched in one palm and a steaming bowl of soybean paste soup in the other, all that’s changed is that Namjoon has rolled over to what’s normally Taehyung’s side of the bed, still without a single centimeter of skin below his shoulders left to face the cold air outside the comforter. Taehyung honestly thinks it’s adorable, but Namjoon would deny it if he said so, trying (and failing) to hide the smile and blush creeping up his face. He always did; it was just how he was. 

“You might want to loosen your cocoon a bit, unless you plan on eating like some sort of T-rex,” Taehyung comments teasingly, placing the hot soup on the nightstand by the bed and the medicine next to it. 

Slowly, still shivering a bit, Namjoon grasps onto the bowl, hissing a bit at its temperature before peering down at its contents. “Hangover soup?”

Taehyung shrugs. “Close enough. I know how much you love it, anyways,”

“You know what I love more?”

Namjoon’s pulled this a thousand times, and the answer is always the same, but Taehyung doesn’t hesitate to indulge in it for the thousand and first time. “What, Joon?”

“You,”

He shakes his head as Namjoon begins to laugh, lifting the spoon up to his lips and sipping lightly on it. “Do you ever think that’ll get old to you, or do you plan to keep saying it until we both grow old and die?”

“I’m planning to do it as long as it makes you smile,”

“So the second option, then?”

The mattress dips as Taehyung settles down at the edge of the bed, legs crossed and hand reaching out to tuck the hair that’s slipped in front of Namjoon’s face as he starts to scarf down his soup behind his boyfriend’s ears. “I guess we’re not going to that barbecue place after all, huh?”

The clinking of the metal spoon against ceramic comes to a sudden stop, Namjoon’s head snapping up to look at him, guilt written across his features. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin it. I know you were looking forward to going,”

Taehyung quickly shakes his head, rushing to grab Namjoon’s hand and squeezing it to reassure him, trying to fix his mistake. All the things he could have said, and the first thing to pop into his mind was to comment on the fact that their plans were disrupted. Way to go, Taehyung, he thinks, way to go .

“It’s not your fault, Namjoon, you didn’t choose to be sick today. All I really wanted was to spend time with you anyway, I’d rather be here with you than the world’s best restaurant with anyone else,”

“But you’ll get sick, too, if you stay near me too long,” Namjoon’s frown deepens as his gaze meets Taehyung’s.

“I’ll be careful, don’t you worry. Just let me take care of you, okay, Joon?”

That seems to calm Namjoon’s conscience as he nods, taking a deep breath as his expression returns to a more neutral state. Taehyung peers into the bowl, which is now empty, and gently takes it from Namjoon’s hands and places it back on the nightstand. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Namjoon’s mouth open in a yawn. “You tired?”

“Not really, since I just woke up. Just need to lie down a bit. It’s cold, everything hurts, being sick sucks ,” Namjoon’s words have been reduced to an annoyed groan by the end of his sentence as he flops back down onto the bed, coaxing a giggle out of Taehyung’s mouth at how he still looks endearing. Namjoon grips the blanket, pulling it back over himself before struggling to get the edges under his shoulders, presumably trying to keep in all the body heat he can. Taehyung steps forward then, tucking him in tightly, his hands moving against Namjoon’s hot ones. 

Namjoon yawns again, his eyes drooping slightly even as he tries to force them open, shuffling around before settling down.

“So you’re not tired, huh?” Taehyung can’t help but smile, can’t stop himself from teasing just a bit after Namjoon had so quickly contradicted his own words. Namjoon looks like he’s about to retort, opening his mouth, but closes it again quickly, allowing his head to plop onto the pillow. Taehyung’s prepared to sit there until Namjoon falls asleep, which doesn’t seem like a long way off, when his voice, muttering and groggy, breaks through the air. 

“Flowers. I bought you flowers. Yesterday. I was planning to give them to you today,”

Taehyung leans forward again, eyes widening as he sees Namjoon’s sleepy face staring at him intently, or as intently as he can when he’s only about half awake at the moment. 

“Could you…go get them for me? I put them in the cabinet on the left,” Namjoon’s words get clearer as he rolls over, careful to keep the blanket snugly over his body. “I wanted to see your boxy smile.”

It feels like an unusually long time that Taehyung stands there, mouth dry and brain operating at the speed of dial-up internet, not quite sure what to do to express the wave of shock and love washing over him before he ends up just nodding frantically, practically running out of the room and clumsily yanking open the cabinet, pretty purple flowers greeting him, along with messy wrapping on the stems that he’s pretty sure Namjoon did himself. A giddy smile takes over his face as he holds them, observing how even with Namjoon’s tendency to break whatever he touched he had still put in his best effort to get Taehyung something romantic, in his favorite color no less. 

His smile hasn’t faltered a bit by the time he returns to the room, nor does he try to stop himself even when his cheeks start to hurt, not with the way Namjoon’s eyes brighten the moment he walks in. Namjoon’s always looked at him like he was someone special, like he was the most beautiful person in their world. It’s times like these where he would normally wrap his arms around his boyfriend tightly, savoring the feel of Namjoon’s warm chest next to his and how it all just felt right when they were together. 

But regretfully, he can’t, not unless he wants to risk getting sick himself (which he most certainly doesn’t) by getting closer than necessary to whatever germs lurked there. He settles for sitting beside Namjoon again, patting his soft cheek and admiring his beautiful face, always more gorgeous to Taehyung than any flowers he had seen. 

“You really are the best boyfriend I could ask for. God, I want to kiss you so badly right now…” 

Ever so carefully, he thumbs over Namjoon’s bottom lip, and as Namjoon shudders he’s not sure if it’s from the fact that he’s sick or from the small touch, but Taehyung wants to believe it’s the latter. He wants to believe he has the same effect on Namjoon that Namjoon still has on him no matter how far they’ve gotten from that original honeymoon phase. 

“The feeling’s mutual,” 

Seeing Namjoon’s slight pout and hearing his clogged-nose sniffle as he finally closes his eyes again, Taehyung can’t resist lying beside him, reluctantly leaving the blanket to separate them as he curls his arm around Namjoon’s waist. Namjoon’s body stiffens for a moment before he leans into their snuggle, and Taehyung’s sure that if he were to sit up again he would see Namjoon’s signature satisfied smile. 

“What was it you said about being careful?”

Taehyung’s a bit surprised that it’s Namjoon’s teasing voice which breaks the comfortable silence and not the soft snores which he had expected, but he quickly responds with a squeeze of Namjoon’s cheek, and he can practically hear his boyfriend rolling his eyes at the habit Taehyung had never let go of. 

“Yah, shut up and just let me take care of you. I’ll be fine,”