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Join The Club

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Namjoon stared blankly into the side of Seokjin’s face. His attention was held by the book in his thin hands. His fingers looked crooked, as they always did. It was one of the things Namjoon adored about his roommate. Don’t get him wrong; Seokjin was breathtakingly handsome, and Namjoon is sure that is part of his attraction towards the older man. However, it was the little things that drew the dongsaeng to Seokjin.

They started out as roommates over a year ago. Namjoon was alone in the city of Seoul, and Seokjin was simply lonely.

Seokjin worked as head chef at a fancy restaurant, meaning he made good money. He lived in an upscale apartment, several stories above the bustling streets. He lived alone, which grew to be boring. There was no one to lounge around with and just be himself with. He sent out an ad in search of a roommate.

He ended up with Kim Namjoon, a bright music producer that needed new headphones quite often. He produced for underground rappers and little-known idol groups. He hadn’t made it big enough to produce for the more popular groups like Big Bang or Super Junior. However, it was his dream.

The two were nearly opposites of each other. Namjoon was clumsy and sometimes immature, while Seokjin, being older, was inherently calmer and more collected. Namjoon often spent days at a time at his studio, exhausted and starving, trying to perfect his next track. Some days, Seokjin would bring a styrofoam box filled with leftovers, either from the restaurant or from their apartment, to the overworked producer. Namjoon didn’t care for himself properly, and Seokjin stepped up to make sure he was eating and staying hydrated during his bouts of creativity.

This is where the affection starts.

In Namjoon’s eyes, Seokjin was a wonderful man. Caring, compassionate about his craft and those around him, a brilliant chef, and an all-around good person. How could Namjoon not be attracted to him?

 

Namjoon sat still, mesmerized by the side of Seokjin’s face. He was almost… perfect. It was a privilege to be able to look at his face as he sat next to him on quiet days like today.

Without warning, Seokjin looked over. Namjoon quickly cast his glance towards the TV playing quietly in front of them. His face flushed crimson and tried not to smile.

Namjoon thought about what to do next. He had just been caught staring by the man of his affections. The thinking didn’t last long.

“What if I told you I loved you?” He blurted, instantly regretting his words.

Without hesitating, Seokjin responded. “I would tell you to join the club.”

Namjoon blinked dumbly. He huffed quietly and stood up. He didn’t mean to say it in the first place, but “join the club” certainly wasn’t the reaction he was hoping for. Then again, what did he expect? For Seokjin to jump into his arms and marry him on the spot? He doesn’t even love him, right?

With arms straight at his sides, Namjoon walked to his room. What he didn’t see was Seokjin lifting his eyes up from his book to stare at the younger roommate.

 

“Joonie!” Seokjin called from the kitchen. When Namjoon didn’t respond, Seokjin rolled his eyes and wandered off in the direction of his roommate’s room, spatula in hand. With a sharp rap on the wooden door, he called out once more. “Namjoon! I made omelets!”

In the room, Namjoon threw his arm over his face, dreading the upcoming interaction with the man of his dreams. Maybe he was just over-reacting. Seokjin could be a bit self-centered at times, and maybe thought nothing of the producer’s confession.

Maybe his reaction made sense; Seokjin was a loved man. A very loved man. An attractive, renowned chef with the plating abilities of a god. What’s not to love?

Namjoon sighed; he was in over his head. Crushing on someone who probably isn’t even gay. For now, he needs to get up and eat Seokjin’s delicious omelet.

With effort, Namjoon kicked his blankets off and sat up. He swung his legs over the side of his bed slowly and placed his bare feet on the wood of the floor. He winced at the cold; he needed slippers. He shuffled over to his drawer set and tugged at the old handle. It came loose and he pulled a pair of socks out and slipped them on his feet. He frowned briefly before wiping the sour expression off of his face and replacing it with something similar to a smile.

“I’m up,” He shouted into the other room. With this, Seokjin was satisfied and retreated. He resumed his position at the stove, cooking the omelets.

The door to Namjoon’s room opened, and out came the sleepy man. His feet never left the floor as he lumbered into the kitchen, eyes still partially closed from being so tired. The smell of cooking eggs delighted him, awakening his senses.

“I thought you’d never wake up,” Seokjin stated from the kitchen. He continued to ramble: “I don’t know if you like chives but I garnish with them all the time in the kitchen and the clientele positively eat it up! So I figured I’d serve it to you as well.” Another thing about Seokjin: he loves to hear himself talk. Yet another thing is that he has an extensive vocabulary, especially when it comes to his job. He would toss expensive sounding words in the air as if it were nothing, leaving Namjoon floundering. It’s cute.

Donning a dorky apron, Seokjin set two plates on the table in front of the still standing Namjoon. He pulled the chair out for himself, not looking at his roommate, and sat down. He had begun to eat before Seokjin even had the chance to sit down.

“Hungry hungry boy.” He commented. Namjoon snorted quietly and continued to eat, hunched over his plate slightly. Finally, Seokjin sat himself down and picked up his fork just as Namjoon finished.

Abruptly, he stood. “I have a busy day today.” Seokjin looked up from his breakfast and blinked. Namjoon walked, almost robotically, to his room and shut the door.

“Have a nice day,” Seokjin grumbled before returning to his meal.

 

Namjoon sat in his chair and spun slowly. “Hoseok, I don’t know what to do.”

The older man, perched on the small couch in the producer’s office, scratched at his head. The two had been working at the same label, Connect Entertainment, for about four years; it was a miracle the company had stayed open for so long and had introduced a new solo artist in the past month. In addition to Jeon Siyeon, the solo, the company had one boy group, Violet. They mainly did badass concepts, which Namjoon loved to produce. Siyeon, however, was softer in concept and was seen as a sweet angel in her songs. Namjoon loved her voice, but he wasn’t the best at producing cute tracks.

After ensuring his scalp no longer itched, Hoseok responded. “Are you talking about Violet’s new track? ‘Cause I’m not expert but if you-”

“No not that, Seok,” Namjoon interrupted him. “I’m talking about my roommate, the chef.” Hoseok mused silently. “Seokjin.” He said his name like it burned his tongue. In a good way. “He’s way out of my league, and there’s no way he would actually ever like me!”

“Calm down, Namjoon-ah. I’m sure you can work something out. You can always stay with me if things get awkward.” Hoseok said thoughtfully. He was always kind, always cheery and encouraging. He worked well with the members of Violet as a dance instructor. The member that was the least strong in dance, who was also the leader and main rapper, has improved vastly since he began training five years ago.

“Thanks, Hoseok.” Namjoon sighed. “I still need to finish Violet’s track. What sounds better? Du-du-TA or Du-du-DA?”

Hoseok sat and pondered the question before finally deciding on an answer. “I don’t hear a difference.”

“Ta has a more metallic sound, like a cymbal, and Da sounds deeper.” Namjoon tried explaining his thought process to the dance teacher.

Hoseok shook his head. “I’m sure it’ll sound great either way.” He reasoned.

Namjoon rolled his eyes. “Thanks, hyung.”

A younger man poked his head into the room. “Hoseok-hyung?” He asked nervously.

The two already in the room turned to look at him. “Minjun!” Hoseok shouted at the main rapper of the group. Behind the tough exterior he showcased on stage, Minjun was shy, and attention made him nervous. His fans called him cute, which did nothing but fluster him further.

“Are we going to start practice soon?” He questioned, toeing at the ground.

“Oh! That’s right!” Hoseok crowed. “Things will work themselves out soon!” Hoseok cried as he ushered the youngest of the three out.

“Wait!” Namjoon called. “Practice?” He sounded panicked. “I haven’t finished the track yet!”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s just to keep their joints loose or whatever. Manager’s orders.” Hoseok responded nonchalantly.

“Always a pleasure, Namjoon-hyung,” Minjun spoke over his shoulder as the dancer pushed him eagerly towards the practice room. Namjoon shook his head and smiled at the elder’s excitement.

Remembering his conundrum, he groaned and fell back into his chair. This really was going to be a long day.

 

It was past two in the morning by the time Namjoon was unlocking the front door to his and Seokjin’s apartment. He stumbled into the front room, hungry and tired. He shifted his bag from his left to his right, then set it on the floor. He hoped Seokjin was asleep and would stay that way.

On the kitchen island sat a blob of unidentified pink. Namjoon walked closer; it was a post-it note.

“Check the fridge Joonie” it read, with a small heart drawn in the bottom corner of the note.

In the fridge was a box with another pink sticky note.

“Dinner for u” read this note. This time Seokjin had drawn a winking face by his letters.

Namjoon smiled as he pulled the box from the fridge. He felt himself slip deeper into his affectionate hole for his roommate.

Maybe he was in love.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Namjoon woke not to Seokjin’s voice, but to the smell of his cooking. Another thing Namjoon loved about his roommate was that he was constantly cooking and baking for him; he was one of the rare people in the world who had mastered both the art of baking and culinary skills.

He quickly pulled on a fresh shirt, as he fell asleep in yesterday’s clothing, and left his room. He was greeted by Seokjin cooking bacon and hashbrowns. Namjoon smiled to himself as he pulled his door shut behind him.

“Good morning!” He called out to his roommate. He waltzed into the kitchen, humming to the nearly finished track from the night before. It wasn’t the easiest song to hum to, but he was happy. It needed a bit of polishing, but he was hours away from having a hit track on his hands. The better the song, the more fans the group will gain, meaning the more likely Violet will be able to stay together. The group has become rather close over the past four years, each member sharing a special bond with the next. They’ve even become close to Hoseok and their styling noonas. Minjun, who has recently become interested in producing, has been kissing up to Namjoon, the primary producer, lately. Namjoon has been considering allowing Minjun to work with him on the album’s B-Side.

As Namjoon entered the kitchen, Seokjin was finishing the hashbrowns and laying the bacon carefully on their glass plates, of which Namjoon has broken a few before. Seokjin smiled easily at the producer. “Good morning, Joon. What time did you get in last night?”

“About three,” Namjoon answered truthfully. He pulled his chair out and plopped down, crossing his long legs into the chair. His back hunched naturally slightly as Seokjin placed his food before him. Today he ate slower; today he wasn’t dreading speaking to his roommate today. It was a new day.

“I should start dragging you out earlier than that. You need your sleep Kim Namjoon.” He scolded him lightly.

“I need this I need that. I know Jin,” he said through a mouthful of hash browns. Seokjin rolled his eyes.

“When will the album have a name?” Seokjin inquired as he grabbed a piece of bacon.

Namjoon shrugged. “Depends on when I finish with most of the tracks and get a feel for the album. Are you gonna preorder this one too?” He pointed his fork in the vague direction of his roommate.

“Oh yeah. At least five, so I have a chance at getting each photo card.” Seokjin nodded with bacon in his mouth. He truly was Violet’s biggest fan. He wants to collect each album and each photo card, mostly because he’s so proud of his roommate. Secondly, because he enjoys the music.

“Today I’ll most likely finish the title track. It’s called ‘Matter’ and it doesn’t even have lyrics. If you want you can listen to it tonight. I’ll have to get with Yoongi to see when he’s free. He’s been working on a comeback for Siyeon.”

“Siyeon seems sweet. How is she?” Seokjin commented.

“I’ve only met with her once or twice, but she seems nice. I think Hoseok might have a crush.”

Seokjin waggled his eyebrows. “He gon’ get it!” Namjoon rolled his eyes. “Anyways I have an early shift at the restaurant today, so I better get going. I’ll see you tonight, okay?” He stood up and placed his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder. He looked up into his eyes; something seemed different. Soft. Comforting.

Namjoon snapped himself out of his trance. “Yeah. I’ll try to be back tonight. I might watch Hoseok and the boys practice.” Namjoon nodded, blushing slightly as Seokjin removed his hand.

Namjoon wondered what just happened as he forked the last of his hashbrowns into his open mouth. Seokjin called out a farewell and waved as he left. He looked cute in his chef’s uniform.

 

At the studio, Hoseok was in a frenzy. He started practice an hour early and didn’t have time to listen to Namjoon’s rambles. Maybe he did that on purpose.

During the break, Hoseok came to him, floppy auburn hair held back by a sweat-abused headband. He held a massive water bottle in his hand that was already half empty. “Hey Joon. How’s ol’ Jinnie?” He uncapped his water bottle to take another drink.

“He’s fine, Hoseok. Are you suddenly invested in my love life? How’s Siyeon?” Namjoon responded.

“I don’t know why you’re asking me that. Unlike you, I’m not crushing on a certain someone.” Hoseok said between pants. “Besides, why would I want to date an up-and-coming idol? Not the lifestyle for me.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes. “Whatever hyung. Could you tell Minjun I want to talk to him when he’s free? He’s been bugging me about producing.” Namjoon rubbed at his scalp. It was dry from dying it light brown.

“Sure. How’s ‘Matter’ going?”

Namjoon knew he was dying to dig into his and Seokjin’s lives. “It’s almost done. I promised I would let Seokjin listen to it tonight. By the way, I decided on Ta for the last note of the song.”

“Wasn’t that the metal one?”

Namjoon nodded.

Another member of Violet, Min Bongchol, stepped into the room. “Hyung,” he whined, “we’re getting antsy. We just want to get this over with. There’s only an hour left.” He motioned for Hoseok to follow him and then walked away.

“When Bongchol begs me to finish, I know I’m in trouble. He loves dancing the most.”

“Go back then. I need to start on the next few tracks. Manager says I need to have at least three total tracks done by next month. I’m gonna stick the instrumental of ‘Matter’ at the end to make the album seem longer.”

Hoseok nodded. “See you later, bud. Good luck with chef boy.” He winked as he exited.

Namjoon rolled his eyes as a lighthearted smile played at his lips.

 

An hour later, ‘Matter’ was finished and Namjoon was sitting in his chair when a quiet knock on his door came.

“Come in,” he called.

Minjun stepped in. “Hi, hyung,” he said and bowed his head politely.

“Welcome to the lair. This is where producing magic happens.” Namjoon spread his arms as if he were showing the young rapper something grand. In reality, the room was just big enough for an array of computers, his chair, and a couch for occasional naps and Hoseok’s visits.

Minjun sat awkwardly on the edge of the couch, hands placed on his knees in anticipation. “Hoseok hyung said you wanted to see me?”

Namjoon nodded a few times, steepling his fingers in front of him. “I’m going to be straight with you. Would you like to produce a track with me?”

Minjun nearly jumped off the couch in excitement. “Yes! Of course. More than anything.” He calmed himself down. “You would let me do that?”

Namjoon chuckled. “Of course. I trust that you will try your best and learn from me.”

“Hyung? Can I shower first? We just finished practice and I’m still sweaty.” Minjun rubbed at his lower arm apprehensively.

“Yeah, you smell like Hoseok…” Namjoon trailed off, then offered a laugh. Minjun responded with a small smile before bowing and wandering off.

As Minjun walked out of the studio, Namjoon could hear the rest of the boys, particularly Jinsoo, as he was usually the loudest of the five. As the maknae, he was believed to have the most energy of the group.

“I get to shower first!” He shouted, his voice echoing throughout the dimly lit halls of the company building. Connect Entertainment could hardly afford to stay open and maintain its facilities, meaning there was only one shower.

“Rude!” Minjun replied. “Namjoon hyung and I need to have a very important meeting.” Namjoon could envision the dongsaeng crossing his arms in an aloof manner.

The five continued to bicker about who gets to shower first until Bongchol started to whine. “Fine! I’ll just shower at home!” The pout was evident in his voice. He was seen as the aegyo master of the group.

After the noise in the hallway had settled down, Namjoon smiled to himself and slipped his headphones back over his ears. With a few clicks of his mouse, he began to set up a base beat for the album’s next track. It started quiet, and he planned on asking Yoongi, the main composer and lyricist of the company, to write something fitting for Youngsoo, the low-tone rapper. Youngsoo’s stage name was SY for some reason.

He and Minjun balanced each other, as he was a high-tone rapper. They were like GD and T.O.P. The less famous versions. Maybe they could introduce a subunit between the two and call it “Blue Violet” or another play on colors.

After the beginning, Namjoon planned for the song to take off soaring. He wanted Kwangmi to sing here, Violet’s lead vocalist and main dancer. He wasn’t the person to ask when it came to voices, but he felt Kwangmi’s voice was rich and it could still sound hardcore and deep when he wanted it to be. For being such an underrated group, he felt Kwangmi had good control of his voice and could sound different from one track to the next.

After a few more minutes of fiddling with the background music, once more a knock came from outside the studio. Namjoon spun in his chair to find Minjun’s damp black hair covering his face peeking in.

“Come in, Minjun-ah,” Namjoon beckoned the boy into his makeshift office. He stepped shyly in and sat the same way as his last visit. “So.” Namjoon began. “I’ve laid down a base beat and have introduced a slower build in the beginning. I want you to take a listen and tell me who you think would sound good in this part.” Namjoon stood and allowed Minjun to sit in his chair.

Minjun was almost shaking with joy. He got to sit in the special producing chair! As careful as he could, he placed Namjoon’s own headphones over his ears and began listening. Namjoon observed Minjun listen. He closed his eyes and bobbed his head slightly. The first few seconds of the song ended and Minjun opened his eyes to find Namjoon looking at him. He blushed and removed the set from his head. “Um… Maybe Youngsoo would go here?” Namjoon nodded approvingly. “I think it would sound cool against the deepness of the instrumental because he can make his voice go all gravelly sometimes and it would echo the intenseness of the track. I think.” He finished his explanation and looked expectantly up at the producer.

“I agree. And I think his gravel voice would be good here. Good job, Minjun.” Namjoon nodded and smiled. He clapped his hands together once. “Well, what do you say we get to work?”

 

For the next five or six hours, the two had a good portion of the song blocked out. The duo would have worked longer if Seokjin hadn’t texted Namjoon at eight o’clock asking if he preferred swiss or cheddar. Finally, they called it for the night and parted ways.

“Thank you again hyung for letting me work with you. When will we work more?” Minjun stretched after standing from the couch.

“Tomorrow after practice?” Namjoon placed his headphones on the keyboard in front of him.

“Tomorrow is vocal practice all day until four. Is that alright?”

“Of course. See me whenever. I’m not going anywhere,” he joked. Minjun smiled lightly as he grabbed his phone from the couch cushion.

“See you tomorrow, hyung.” Minjun saluted playfully.

 

Finally arriving at just before nine, Namjoon found Seokin lounging on the couch watching a movie. A bowl of popcorn rested on his lap. He was leaned forward slightly, invested in whatever he was watching.

“What’s up?” Namjoon dropped his bag by the front door casually and toed off his shoes.

Seokjin turned his head, his gorgeous head, and smiled. “Movie time.”

Namjoon nodded in response. “Dinner?”

“Fridge.”

Namjoon pulled out a styrofoam box, typical, with a smiley face drawn on the top. Namjoon smiled to himself. “Can I ask what’s with all the drawings on my dinner nowadays?”

“Just felt like being friendly.” He responded. “Is there anything wrong with that?”

“No, it’s just…” Namjoon considered his words, “different.” He glanced over his shoulder to see Seokjin throw his hands in the air in mock exasperation. He smiled to himself once more. He ambled over to the couch and pulled Seokjin’s legs to the floor and plopped down instead. He popped open the box and dug in. “Delicious.” He commented through a mouthful of cheese noodles. Seokjin simply rolled his eyes at Namjoon’s tendency to talk while he eats.

Seokjin shoved a mouthful of popcorn into his mouth. After he finished chewing he yawned. “As soon as this popcorn is done, so am I. It’s close to bedtime for this old man.”

Namjoon smiled at his remark about being an old man.

Once Seokjin finished his popcorn, he stood and walked the popcorn bowl into the kitchen and dumped the kernels in the garbage can. Upon returning to the living room, he ruffled Namjoon’s hair and told him goodnight. He then walked into his room, and that was the last Namjoon saw of him that night.

“I never got to show you my song…” Namjoon whispered to himself.

Chapter Text

In the morning when Namjoon woke up, Seokjin was nowhere to be found. Namjoon checked the kitchen, knocked on the bathroom door, looked in the laundry room, and finally, stepped into the kitchen. He found it empty, save for Seokjin’s seemingly signature pink post-it note.

Morning rush! See you at home! ” The note had a heart drawn in the center below the wording.

Namjoon was alone for breakfast. Meaning, he had to make breakfast by himself. Sighing, he pulled the fridge open to see what was inside. Namjoon was clumsy, and even more so in the kitchen. If he pushed it, he could probably break the stove trying to crack an egg.

Luckily, Seokjin left another styrofoam box in the fridge with yet another note on the top.

Sorry I didn’t listen to your song! Tonight? ” Another heart.

Namjoon smiled and opened the box to find another omelet.

 

At the studio, Namjoon arrived before the boys of Violet started their vocal practice. He struck up a conversation with Minjun about producing in the meantime.

“Woah, hyung you’re producing?” Kwangmi asked incredulously.

Minjun nodded pridefully. “Yup. Namjoon hyung is helping me. Isn’t he the best?”

Kwangmi nodded as Hoseok walked up and threw his arms around the two members of Violet. “I know Namjoon is the best, but what has he done this time?”

Namjoon shook his head. “I’m letting Minjun produce the B-side with me. We’ve got the base fleshed out and after practice, we’re going to work on transitions from one section of a song to the next.” Minjun nodded along with what Namjoon said, hanging on to every word that came from his mouth.

“Practice doesn’t start until nine. What do we do until then?” Youngsoo asked.

“Do you guys want to listen to ‘Matter’?” Namjoon interjected. The five members of Violet nodded, and Hoseok more enthusiastically so. The seven crowded into Namjoon’s studio, some perching on the couch and the unfortunate few, Jinsoo and Bongchol, had to sit on the floor. Bongchol pouted until the song started.

It started with a deep, thumping bass, which built up into a crescendo. It sounded like someone hit a cymbal, then the music stopped. It resumed with sharp brass sounds accompanied by metallic pings in the background. It repeated for a little less than a minute when the chorus hit.

Namjoon mouthed along to the wordless song; bum ba bum dum da da dum da.

As Namjoon liked to describe it, it was metallic, like an engine hard at work.

“I plan for the chorus to be mostly instrumental,” Namjoon briefly broke the trance that held the occupants of the room, “but we’ll see what Yoongi says.”

After the chorus came another verse, then a bridge and another chorus. The original final note of the chorus was changed to Ta for a more powerful sounding end to the song.

The room was quiet for a moment until Hoseok broke the silence. “The last note does sound metallic,” he mused.

The five boys chattered about the song, raving about how good it was.

“Stellar! Amazing! Spectacular! Wonderful!” Jinsoo’s voice rose above the rest in an excited frenzy. He bounced on the floor, hyper as ever.
“Be careful Jinsoo you’re gonna rupture something,” Kwangmi commented. Jinsoo only stuck out his tongue.

“Is it almost time for vocal practice?” Bongchol questioned. “I’m ready to showcase my lovely voice.”

Namjoon smiled to himself, thinking of Seokjin. Bongchol was like him in the way that they both thought highly of themselves. Seokjin had more of a natural confidence, while Bongchol was almost narcissistic. The fans ate it up, though.

“Alright kiddies,” Jimin, the vocal instructor, said as he sauntered into the already cramped room, “let’s head down. I heard Bongchol is dying to practice today.”

“You know it, hyung.” Bongchol winked.

As the members followed Jimin out of the studio, Hoseok stretched out on the beige couch. “Today is my day off since Siyeon doesn’t start practice for a while. That means I’m your problem for the day.” He smiled wide and showed his straight teeth.

“Do you want to join the producing bandwagon around here and help?” Namjoon spun around and faced Hoseok.

“Nah, it’s not for me. But I can listen!” Namjoon was sure Hoseok would fall asleep within the hour.

 

At three thirty, Hoseok was asleep, snoring lightly as Namjoon clicked away at his mouse. He would bob his head to the makeshift beats, then stop, realizing it was all wrong and he needed to do that section over again. To the normal ear, the song would have sounded great. But Namjoon was a perfectionist when it came to his job. His pay, along with Violet’s, relied on it. Indirectly, so did the rest of the company. A bad song could be the end of Violet. With Siyeon having one song and a small fan base, the company would have no place to go.

This brought a small panic upon Namjoon. He brushed it off, as these thoughts plague him often. Instead of letting those feelings fester inside, he kept doing what he was best at.

Music came naturally to Namjoon, even as a child. He picked up the guitar at age twelve and was in his friend’s band. They performed at school talent shows and even won a competition once. But Namjoon wanted more. He wanted to make music on every level he could. He wanted to make music for the world.

It was a miracle he was able to find this job. It’s been an amazing experience; he’s learned about how hard idols truly do work, he’s found new friends, and he has vastly improved thanks to his mentor, who has since retired.

A few minutes before four, Minjun entered the room.

“Hi, hyung. Was Hoseok hyung tired?” Minjun gestured to the man laying on the couch who had begun to wake up.

“I guess my producing was just boring. Right, hyung?”

Hoseok nodded, unaware of what Namjoon was saying. “Right, Joon-ah.”

Minjun and Namjoon shared a snicker. “Anyways, Minjun, are you ready to spend the next few hours of your life in this hole with me? We might be able to finish the base beat before seven!” Minjun nodded excitedly. “I want to leave at about seven tonight,” Namjoon commented.

“Let’s start!” Minjun insisted.

 

At six forty-seven, Namjoon announced the base was officially finished. Minjun cheered to himself.

“Ready to head home, kid?” Namjoon asked.

Minjun nodded. “Yup. The boys are gonna be wild with questions.” He chortled quietly.

“Stay safe. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Namjoon stood and smiled at the rapper before exiting the room and headed for his car. His car was nothing special, but it was reliable and made the commute from work to home each day. As he buckled his seat belt, he got a text from Seokjin.

I have a surprise for you! Hurry home!

Namjoon smiled to himself and turned the car on. He wondered what the surprise could possibly be. Whatever it was, he was excited.

The drive home was relatively short, but he still kept the radio on for company. It got lonely in the car sometimes. Namjoon would mumble the words to himself, and occasionally belt out a song in his terrible singing voice; no wonder he wasn’t an idol.

At last, he pulled into the driveway. The kitchen lights were on, meaning Seokjin was probably still in there.

He undid his seatbelt and stepped out of the car. He locked it, then jogged up the stairs leading to their front porch. He unlocked the door to find Seokjin placing something on a plate.

“Namjoon!” He shrieked, surprised. “Don’t look! It’s supposed to be a surprise!” Namjoon just laughed and covered his eyes. He sat at the dining room table, facing away and scrolled through his social media. He saw a post from Minjun. The picture was of himself holding up a peace sign and winking. The caption read “Plums! I have a surprise for you in our next album! Sleep well” with a heart emoji. Plum was the fandom name for Violet.

“Ok, ok, I think I’m done, but don’t look until I tell you to.” Namjoon rolled his eyes, turned off his phone, and covered his eyes once more. He heard a plate being set in front of him, and he was tempted to peek. “Alright, you can look.”

Namjoon opened his eyes. On the table was one of their nice plates with several strawberries dipped in chocolate arranged in a circle around a piece of red velvet cake, Namjoon’s favorite. The cake was iced with chocolate icing so it looked like a square strawberry.

“A very cute surprise. Thank you hyung,” Namjoon smiled up at his roommate, who was still standing with his favorite apron on. Seokjin nodded at the approval. The younger forked into his cake and shoveled it into his mouth.

“Mmm…” He vocalized his like of the cake. “Very good,” he spoke through the cake in his mouth. Seokjin smiled affectionately.

Namjoon was too absorbed in the dessert before him to notice the way Seokjin looked at him. He couldn’t see the smile in the elder’s eyes. Seokjin liked him, and maybe he was just realizing it, but Namjoon had a nice set of lips. He had the urge to reach out and touch him in some way. Any way. Brush his hair out of his face, wipe the stray crumb off his chin, do something to the younger man. He pushed those feelings away; he locked them in a box and pushed them off a cliff and into the ocean.

“Hyung this is delicious. I think my mouth is watering. The strawberries are so nice!” Namjoon rambled on about Seokjin’s baking. Seokjin simply smiled.

“We can listen to ‘Matter’ when you’re done.”

Namjoon stood, excited to show Seokjin something he’s proud of. He took a few strawberries into his palm and took his laptop out of his computer bag. He set it up and opened the music program he used. He pressed play as Seokjin sat down close to him on their couch.

Out of the corner of his eye, Namjoon saw Seokjin smile. Knowing that his music was the cause of that smile was a glorious feeling. Namjoon was glad that he found someone so supportive of his unorthodox work. Come to think of it, Seokjin was supportive of Namjoon in general. When he was stuck in a creative rut, Seokjin would always encourage him and try to help in any way possible. Of course, he would always offer food. It really was very sweet of him.

Namjoon enjoyed watching Seokjin listen. He was intrigued by the music and watching the notes float by on the screen. His head rested on his hands, body slouched forward slightly.

The song was over too soon. Seokjin sat up and brushed the hair away from his forehead. Namjoon snapped his gaze back towards his computer and away from Seokjin. “What did you think?”

“Very good, Joon-ah. I think you’ve got a hit on your hands.” Seokjin ruffled Namjoon’s hair, causing the younger man to blush.

“Hyung!” He whined.

“I’m proud of you Namjoon.” This time, he placed his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder and rubbed gently. Namjoon leaned into the touch briefly before pulling away.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime, Joonie.” Seokjin smiled gently. “You’ve been staring at your computer all day, let’s go do something fun and give your eyes a break, alright?” Namjoon nodded without thinking and shut his computer down. He followed Seokjin into the living room. He sat him down on the couch and placed both hands on his shoulders.

Slowly, he dug his thumbs in and grinned to himself as Namjoon shuddered and gasped. He couldn’t control himself anymore. “You’re tense, Joon-ah,” he whispered, leaning forward slightly. “It’s probably from all that hunching you do.” He continued to massage his shoulders, working his way across the broad expanse. “Do you wanna watch something, Namjoon?” He nodded timidly. One hand stopped the massage to grab at the remote and turn the television on. A cheesy romance drama appeared on screen, and Seokjin nodded in approval. “Sets a mood, doesn’t it?” A swipe of his thumb over a particular knot had Namjoon shuddering.

“Seokjin…” Namjoon whispered. “That’s good, right there.”

Seokjin smiled and worked his thumb harder into the dense knot as Namjoon held back a whimper. He breathed heavily through his nose.

“Do you like it, Namjoon-ah?” Seokjin breathed into his ear, bringing goosebumps to life under the younger’s tan skin. He nodded quickly, never wanting the experience to end. Suddenly, Seokjin’s hands were gone from his shoulders, and Namjoon nearly cried. Seokjin came around to the front of the couch and sat next to him, placing his arm on the back of the couch behind him. “Let’s watch this for a while, alright?” Namjoon nodded, now painfully aware of the arm behind him.

Eventually, Seokjin became interested in the drama and Namjoon worked up the courage to lean back ever so slightly, the fabric of his shirt brushing the elder’s arm. Seokjin smiled as he felt Namjoon’s back settle into his arm. Seokjin moved his arm lower, wrapping it around the younger’s shoulders in a protective manner.

Namjoon felt a wave of drowsiness hit him. It was only eight thirty, yet he felt so tired. He was comfortable with Seokjin next to him; maybe it wouldn’t hurt if he just closed his eyes for a little bit…

Chapter Text

That’s all Namjoon remembers. He fell asleep on the couch with Seokjin that night. If that’s the case, then where is he now? He was laying down now in an unfamiliar bed.

Namjoon felt a weight shift behind him. Feeling panicked, he rolled to his other side to see a sleeping Seokjin. Was he in Seokjin’s bed?

“Morning, Joonie,” Seokjin murmured without opening his eyes.

Namjoon panicked. He jumped up from the bed, away from the man of his dreams, and fled to his room. He locked the door behind him and panted heavily. He looked down at himself. He was wearing a pair of pajama pants and a different shirt than the night before. That sent him deeper into a panicked state. Seokjin has now seen him almost entirely naked.

Quickly, he dressed in work clothes and peeked out of the door. No sight of Seokjin. He creeped out of his room, shutting the door behind him. He tiptoed out into the hall, then ran to the door. He stepped out of the door and exhaled. He was in the clear until he realized he skipped out on breakfast, and he was too much of a coward to go back in.

 

“Thanks for picking up breakfast for me, Hoseok.” Namjoon shoveled the food into his mouth as he spoke.

“You can repay me by not talking while you eat…” Hoseok trailed off, a bit grossed out.

“Sorry hyung,” Namjoon grinned as he finished off his food.

“Why did you need food anyway? Don’t you have your own personal chef?” Hoseok commented, picking at his own breakfast.

“Well…” Namjoon set the empty box aside. “Something happened. Last night.” Hoseok looked up from his food, intrigued. “He listened to ‘Matter’ and something changed. He started calling me nicknames and said we should do something fun. Then he sat me down on the couch and gave me a massage. A massage, Hoseok. He turned on a romance drama and said that it set a mood, and he said these… these things to me.” Namjoon stopped briefly.

“Dirty things?” Hoseok interjected.

“No, no. He asked if it was good and if I liked it. I mean, I did, but it just felt weird.” Namjoon took a deep breath. “Then I fell asleep. On the couch. When I woke up this morning, I was in his bed in totally different clothes.”

Hoseok nodded, then spoke. “You must be a heavy sleeper to sleep through getting your clothes changed.” Hoseok snorted and pushed a dumpling into his mouth.

“Not the point.” Namjoon kicked his feet up on the desk next to his laptop. “Let’s hope this is Violet’s breakthrough song. I’m tired of being cramped when I produce.”

Hoseok nodded. “I’ll be sure to work harder on the choreo to really make it a hit.”

“Knock knock,” came a gruff voice from outside the studio.

“Come in Yoongi hyung,” Namjoon called out.

“You said you wanted to see me?” He seemed disinterested as ever, but he most certainly was interested in writing lyrics. Yoongi had been writing since he was fifteen and often wrote lyrics for Namjoon’s band. He claimed it was freeing and he was able to express himself. Even as he wrote lyrics for Violet, he still said it was true. Violet’s lyrics were often about getting a girl back, which to Namjoon’s knowledge, Yoongi has never had a girlfriend, or at least one that lasted very long. Yet, he made the lyrics work in a way no other lyricist could. They always seemed to go right with the beats Namjoon made.

“Yes,” Namjoon started, “I’ve finished ‘Matter’ and I was wondering when you’d be able to start on lyrics for the song. Then we have three more tracks to work on.” Namjoon produced a smile, clearly dreading working for so long.

“I’m almost done with Siyeon’s song, so I can start on it soon. Send me the audio and I’ll take a listen.” His voice came out almost monotonous, but Namjoon knew Yoongi was just as invested in Violet’s success as the rest of them.

Yoongi waved and walked out.

A few hours later, Violet was almost done with vocal practice. Today would be similar to the day before, except Hoseok wasn’t asleep this time.

“You know what?” He questioned.

“Hm?” Namjoon responded, not really paying attention.

“Seokjin is like your sugar daddy.”

Namjoon paused at hearing those words. “Wait, what?”

“I said, Seok-” Hoseok began.

“No, I heard what you said,” interrupted Namjoon. “But what do you mean by that? I don’t give him sexual favors and he doesn’t give me money.”

“Yeah, but he’s a rich old man who pays your rent.” Hoseok pointed at Namjoon.

“He’s two years older than me, Seok. Calm down. Besides, I pay him for rent. I just struggled for a while.”

Hoseok rolled his eyes. “In my book, he’s your sugar daddy.”

Namjoon snorted. “I’d like to see you try to write a book.”

Hoseok upturned his nose, crossing his arms like a child. “Fine. And I’ll write it about you and your little chef.”

“You mean… fan fiction.” Namjoon deadpanned. “I’ve read some really messed up ones about Violet. The things people make Kwangmi do…”

Hoseok shuddered, exaggerating as usual. “I don’t want to hear about that.”

Namjoon’s phone buzzed on the desk, forgotten about since Namjoon started work.

 

New message: Jinnie hyung

“We need to talk.” delivered 2:23 p.m.

 

“Oh my god, I’m gonna die.” Namjoon threw his phone back and covered his face with his hands.

“What is it this time?” Hoseok sighed, accustomed to Namjoon’s occasional flair for the dramatic.

“Seokjin texted me. He said that we have to talk, and I’m scared. Is he going to kick me out for sleeping in his bed last night? Can’t I just stay with you tonight?” Namjoon pleaded.

“No can do, pal. I’m not intervening with you and your masseuse.”

“Quit with the nicknames. Is he my little chef, sugar daddy, or my masseuse?” Namjoon rubbed at his temples.

“How about all three?”

 

At a quarter past four, Hoseok had left, and Minjun entered the studio.

“You’re late,” Namjoon joked.

“Jimin wouldn’t let me go until I could do a tongue twister in English.”

“Care to share?” Namjoon asked as Minjun sat in the spare chair.

“Peter Piper picked a pack of pickered peppers?” He sounded unsure.

“A peck of pickled peppers,” Namjoon corrected him. “But you did well.”

Minjun smiled at Namjoon’s approval. “What do we do today, hyung?

“I think,” Namjoon steepled his hands, “I’ll let you do the heavy lifting today. We’ll let you earn your name on the album.”

“Oh, Namjoon, I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet.” Minjun rubbed the back of his neck in apprehension.

“I think you are.” Namjoon reached out and clapped a hand on the young rapper.

“Thank you, hyung.” Minjun smiled and scooted his chair forward, barely able to trade places with Namjoon. The computer seemed to loom over Minjun’s frame. He was intimidated, as he had never been the one in control. Previously, he had just told Namjoon what sounded good and suggested the occasional change or addition.

“Do you remember how to work it?” Namjoon, the backseat producer, asked.

“Of course,” Minjun responded, embarrassed by his nervous state of mind. He was flustered now, cheeks tinged pink. He clicked a few times, opening the song they’ve been working on. He played the track first, listening to the base beat and the snippets of sound they’ve added. For this song, they already had lyrics. Yoongi had given them an old song he had written, and Namjoon liked it. With the Manager’s permission, it became the album’s B-Side. The lyrics were typed, but Yoongi had scribbled notes on the sheet. Who he would like to hear sing a part, what the music should sound like, the tempo of a specific area; stuff like that.

As the song played, Minjun glanced back and forth between the notes on the screen and the words on the page. Namjoon nodded along with the song from behind Minjun. As the song came to an end, Minjun picked up the lyric sheet and stared at the parts labeled “rap”, then at the rest of the song.

“Let’s do this, hyung.”

 

More than five hours and two bathroom breaks later, Namjoon smiled at Minjun. “You’ve done well today. You took the reigns and surprised me. I knew you would make good stuff, but I’m almost jealous.”

Minjun smiled bashfully when a dull banging noise came from outside the closed door of the studio. Namjoon stood to see what the noise was.

When he opened the door, he was delighted, and horrified, to find none other than Kim Seokjin, bogged down by various bags. He guessed they contained home-cooked food.

“Hey, Joonie!” He shouted, excited to see his roommate.

“W-why are you here, Seokjin?” Namjoon asked, coming off as rude, exactly what he didn’t want to do.

“To bring you food, of course! Silly Namjoon.” He smiled as if he hadn’t scared Namjoon to death with his text earlier. Minjun looked between the two. Seokjin bent down and placed the bags on Namjoon’s desk, careful to avoid the laptop in the center. “I brought a ton of food, all made by yours truly!” He singsonged. As if just realizing the two weren’t alone, Seokjin turned to the third person in the room. “You must be Minjun. Namjoon has told me that he’s been helping you produce. I’m his roommate, Seokjin. It’s nice to meet you.” Seokjin held out his hand and Minjun, overwhelmed, took it. The two shook hands as Namjoon skimmed over the food. He opened one bag to find kimbap. Namjoon pulled it out eagerly.

“Thank you, hyung,” Namjoon said as he opened the clear top box.

“Anytime, Joon-ah.” Seokjin reached over and ruffled the younger man’s hair. Namjoon blushed, embarrassed by the affection shown by his roommate. “Come home soon, okay? We have things to discuss.”

Namjoon saw emotion in his eyes and he audibly gulped as he nodded. Namjoon couldn’t tell what he saw, but it felt serious. Serious enough to be scared.

“See you at home, Joonie.” Seokjin smiled sweetly.

As he left the room, he shut the door behind him. Minjun looked between the door and the producer, putting two and two together. “So is that the roommate you like?” He asked as he reached for a bag of food.

“I’m going to kill Jung Hoseok.”

 

Namjoon walked up the stairs rather than take the elevator. Two flights in, he regretted his decision; the bags of leftovers clung to his body, making the walk uncomfortable. Eventually, he gave in and took the elevator to the sixth floor.

When he reached the door to his apartment, he knocked, unable to reach for his key. The door opened and a smiling Seokjin was revealed. His smile felt warm and inviting, like Namjoon could just melt into it.

“Hi,” Namjoon said, edging into the apartment.

“Good evening, Namjoon-ah. How was your dinner? Did Minjun enjoy it?” Seokjin responded, stepping back from the door.

Namjoon nodded. “It was very good, thank you. Minjun was amazed that I’m rooming with such an incredible chef.”

Seokjin chuckled. “I wouldn’t say I’m incredible, but I really am.” Namjoon smiled and set the bags of food in the fridge. Namjoon saw out of the corner of his eye that Seokjin had moved to the living room and sat down on the shared couch. “Come sit with me,” he called out to the younger man.

“Just a minute, hyung,” he replied. Instead of facing his fears, he busied himself with organizing the food in the fridge. He heard Seokjin huff quietly from the living room.

Soon enough, there was no more to organize. At last, he walked slowly to where Seokjin sat, impatiently waiting. Yet his signature smile was still balanced delicately across his pink lips. “Let’s talk,” he spoke as Namjoon sat down next to him. He frowned, nervous. “Don’t worry, Joon.” Seokjin laughed. “You aren’t in trouble. Maybe I am.” Namjoon blinked, confused. “This is going to be hard to say…” He trailed off, unsure of how to go on. He reached hesitantly for Namjoon’s hands, which lay in his lap.

Namjoon had never seen Seokjin like this. He was all confidence and sparkling smiles, and now he was reduced to what he would call a nervous mess. He obviously had something serious to confess, but what could possibly be this detrimental to Seokjin’s confident demeanor? Had he lost his job? Were the two of them being evicted from the apartment?

“I like you.” Seokjin rushed out. “And I know you like me too. I’ve seen the way you look at me.” He paused, letting the new information sink in. “There’s no denying it, Joon-ah.” He dropped his voice to a whisper, squeezing his hands. “Just admit it, Namjoon.”

“Yes,” he croaked.

“Yes?” Seokjin questioned, cocking an eyebrow.

Namjoon just nodded. He released Seokjin’s hands and leaned in, wrapping his long arms around the elder’s shoulders. Surprised, Seokjin spent a few seconds in Namjoon’s embrace stilled. Then, he too reached his arms around the younger’s back and rubbed gently.

“I like you,” Namjoon whispered, barely audible.

“I know,” came Seokjin’s smug reply. “You can sleep in my bed tonight.”

Namjoon didn’t say anything. He just buried his face in Seokjin’s neck to hide his grin.

“Let’s go to bed, Namjoonie,” he suggested. Namjoon nodded into his neck but made no effort to move. Seokjin slowly began to peel Namjoon off of him, who protested weakly. “We can get you dressed, and we can go to bed.” Namjoon exhaled, breath tickling Seokjin’s neck. He finally removed himself and reluctantly stood. “There we go.” Seokjin smiled at his roommate. He ushered him into his own room and told him to change, then meet him in his room.

So much was going through Namjoon’s mind. Seokjin actually liked him? Was this a prank? Why did he choose tonight to tell him? What would Hoseok say?

Hoseok. Tomorrow, he had a neck to wring. For tonight, he had to focus on the affection he was presented with.

He slipped out of his clothes, mind still buzzing, and changed into a loose shirt and a pair of Ryan pajama pants. Ryan stood in different poses across the fabric; Namjoon thought it was adorable. He peeked out of his room after changing to find the door to Seokjin’s room wide open. He tiptoed out of his room and into his roommate’s. He stood shyly at the entrance with his hands clasped in front of him.

“No need to be shy, Joonie. Come in,” Seokjin said with an easy smile. He was sitting cross-legged on the bed, phone in hand. He patted the bed next to him. Namjoon shuffled forward and crawled onto the bed.

“Hi,” he murmured. Seokjin smiled in response.  

“Lay down, Joon. There’s nothing to be scared of.”

Namjoon eased down, resting on his elbows. After a moment, he laid down fully, while Seokjin was still sitting with his phone in his hand.

A few minutes later, Namjoon felt drowsy. It was nearly eleven after all. Seokjin noticed this and turned his phone off and set it on his nightstand. “Goodnight, Namjoon,” Seokjin whispered and pulled the chain on his lamp.

“Night, Jinnie.”