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.
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; he wasn’t dreading speaking to his roommate. 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?”
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?”
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.
It gets a little PG in this chapter OoOoOOoH
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 the apartment building landing. 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 in the chair next to him.
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.
“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…
you guys are gonna like this one ;)
I might not be updating much for the next while! I'm taking an online college class right now, which is taking up the majority of my time. Almost as soon as it ends, regular school starts again. I promise I'll still try to update once a week, I just can't promise you guys anything.
Also, stan BigFlo.
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.
I'm so sorry this took so long! I'm back with about 5,000 words worth of fluff. I will try to update again soon but I make no promises. Thank you again for reading!
Namjoon awoke early that Saturday morning to find that the previous night wasn’t just a dream. Seokjin really did like him. Namjoon was also still in Seokjin’s bed. For a moment, he panicked like he had the previous morning. He felt his heart hammer into his chest and his breathing quicken. He wasn’t panting, but he was getting there fast.
Then, he remembered.
He remembered the brief conversation they had the night before and exhaled once before he turned to his side to see Seokjin facing him with open eyes.
Namjoon smiled sheepishly. “Good morning, hyung,” he croaked, throat scratchy from sleep.
Seokjin smiled and brought his hand up to Namjoon’s forehead to brush away the hair that tumbled over the top of his head. “Good morning,” he whispered. Namjoon leaned in to the touch and closed his eyes, smiling earnestly.
Suddenly, Seokjin sat up and grabbed at his phone. Namjoon watched curiously as Seokjin jumped out of bed and stepped into his slippers. He shuffled quickly to his closet, where he pulled out his chef garb. He slipped off his shirt to reveal a toned back, free of any flaws. Then, he slid his pants down to his ankles, showing off his silk boxers that clung to his thighs. He kicked them off. Namjoon gasped and shielded his eyes. Seokjin turned at the noise and released a short bark of a laugh. “You don’t mind, do you?” Namjoon shook his head, peeking through his fingertips as Seokjin tugged on his pants. They were perfectly white and contrasted with Seokjin’s tanned skin. He slipped his arms through the sleeve of his shirt and buttoned it faster than Namjoon could ever dream of doing. “I have to go, Joon. I’m going to be late. I’ll make it up to you, I promise!” He shouted as he rushed out the door in search of his shoes.
Namjoon sat, dazed. Seokjin spoke so fast and ran out on his roommate before he could even comprehend the situation. He buried his face in Seokjin’s pillow, inhaling his scent. Namjoon wasn’t sure exactly what Seokjin smelled like, but he’s sure he’ll have plenty of time to figure that out.
“Bye bye, Joon-ah!” Seokjin called as Namjoon heard the door open, then close. He sighed to himself.
“I guess I have to go to work now,” Namjoon grumbled.
Hoseok was waiting for Namjoon when he arrived at his workplace.
“You little snake.” Namjoon pointed at the older man slouching on his couch.
“What did I do this time?” He asked nonchalantly, unfazed by his tone.
“You told the boys that I like Seokjin.”
“Am I wrong?” He tossed a ball into the air, his eyes following its path as it landed in his hand. “Besides, Youngsoo didn’t know you well, so he asked about you. I just told him what he needed to know.” He threw the ball again. This time he missed and it rolled towards Namjoon’s feet.
He picked it up. “You idiot, that’s my personal life.” He threw the ball at Hoseok, who cringed as it flew past him. It hit the wall, then fell to floor, bouncing a few times before stilling.
Hoseok shrugged. “Get to work, producer boy. Minjun should be here soon. He doesn’t have practice with me until noon.”
“Great, so we have two hours to work. Do you understand how little we’ll be able to get done? That’s like… trying to learn an entire choreography in two hours!” He threw his hands up dramatically as he walked to his chair.
“Good thing you’re not doing choreo. I’m really pushing the boys for this one.”
Namjoon rolled his eyes. “Alright, rat, get out. Unlike you, I have work to do.” Hoseok waved as he walked out.
He fell into his chair, sighing to himself. He didn’t know what to do with himself. He felt warm inside. Maybe he had a fever.
Down the hall, Kwangmi was teasing Minjun about producing. The sound carried to his studio, and Namjoon tuned in.
“Kwangmi, I swear to god shut your mouth,” Minjun commented with a slight laugh.
“Awww poor thing. Is that any way to talk to your hyung?” Kwangmi said with what sounded like a sneer.
Minjun was silent for a moment. “You’re not my hyung,” he muttered, barely audible to Namjoon’s listening ears.
“Would you like a good luck kiss? A hug or a high five from your favorite member?”
“Wow, Youngsoo is here?” Minjun spoke without missing a beat, voice dripping in sarcasm.
“Ouch,” came Kwangmi’s voice from outside Namjoon’s studio.
“Hi Namjoon-hyung.” Minjun walked to the couch and sat down, smiling.
“Oh, so you’ll call him hyung, but not me?” Kwangmi crossed his arms and pouted.
“Maybe it’s because I’m actually older than him?” Namjoon nodded in the direction of Kwangmi, who was leaning against the door frame.
He chuckled nervously. “Well I’ll leave you two to the uh producing. Have fun, Min.”
Namjoon smiled at Minjun as Kwangmi walked out. “A good luck kiss?”
“He sure is something,” Minjun said, gazing after Kwangmi. “So what did your roommate have to say last night?” He asked, looking back at Namjoon.
“He told me to stop leaving my socks in the hall.” Namjoon lied through his teeth.
“Ah, hyung, that’s a lie. Tell me the truth.” Minjun crossed his legs and continued. “No one texts their roommate ‘we need to talk’ to tell you to quit leaving your socks everywhere.”
Namjoon exhaled. “Don’t tell Hoseok, please. When I came home, he told me to sit down with him and he grabbed my hands and told me he likes me and he knows that I like him too. So I guess…” Namjoon trailed off.
“You’re dating now?” Minjun finished his sentence.
“No, not yet. We haven’t discussed that, and I don’t know if we will.” Namjoon paused, thinking to himself. “For now, I’m okay with that.”
“Are you sure? If someone said they liked me, we’d be dating by this time. Have you kissed yet?”
Namjoon blushed. “No, Minjun. And we probably won’t for a while.” He turned to face his computer. “Now, are we here to delve into my personal life or produce?”
“I’m gonna go with the first option. Am I right?” Minjun grinned behind Namjoon’s back.
Namjoon shook his head. “You’re lucky I’m letting you do this, kid. If you were Hoseok, I would have kicked you out by now.”
“Hoseok hyung says you secretly love him,” Minjun stated, swinging his legs.
“Of course he does.” Namjoon sighed. He clicked his mouse a few times, opening the producing program. “You know, I say Hoseok is crushing on Siyeon.” He turned in his chair. “I heard he has a thing for younger girls.” Namjoon winked.
“Ew.” Minjun shook his head.
“Anyways. What do you care about my love life?” Namjoon folded his hands and looked at Minjun expectantly.
“Well as an idol, I can’t really date who I want, and manager-hyung won’t let us date at all. It’s better to know someone in love than nothing.” He shrugged.
“Ah, you sound like Yoongi hyung.” Namjoon shook his head. “Shall we start?”
New message: Jinnie hyung
“Hello Namjoon-ah!” delivered 3:25 p.m.
New message: Jinnie hyung
“Namjoonie… you can’t ignore me forever!” delivered 3:57 p.m.
“Oh crap,” Namjoon uttered, the buzz of his phone breaking his concentration. His eyes were glued to the screen in front of him. Minjun had left for vocal practice with Jimin about an hour ago, meaning Namjoon could hole himself up in his studio and act like the world around him didn’t exist. Did it work? Yes. Was it healthy?
That was a story for another time.
Clicking one last button, Namjoon glanced at his lit phone. The screen read “2 New Messages.” He slipped his headphones around his neck and grabbed his phone from the desk beside him. His thumb unlocked the screen and a photo of him and Seokjin lit up the dark room around him. He smiled fondly at the memory.
“Seokjin!” Namjoon called out with two pool noodles tucked under his arm. He waved with his free hand at the elder, who struggled with the massive umbrella behind him. He stood a few feet from the back of the car where he began. Namjoon grinned; he got the easy job.
Namjoon couldn’t tell, but Seokjin let him carry the noodles for a reason. It was the easier job, but he couldn’t bear to make him carry the big umbrella.
After a treacherous trek over the hot sand, Seokjin found a suitable spot to plant the umbrella. Namjoon set down the noodles and stretched his arms, shirt lifting up briefly before he whipped it over his head. He threw it down in the sand and toed off his flip flops. He glanced at Seokjin before taking off running towards the water.
Maybe the sand burned his bare feet, and maybe the shells that stuck out of the sand closer to the sea were too sharp for comfort, but in that moment, he was carefree. There was no stress of producing Violet’s next hit, or dealing with Hoseok’s prying. It was just him and the water. And of course, Adonis himself.
Knee deep in the cool water, Namjoon turned around and waved once more, inviting Seokjin to join him, who shook his head. His shirt came off and drifted into the sand along with Namjoon’s own shirt. He walked slowly to the water, then broke into a sprint once the water lapped at his toes. Drops of salty water sprung up, flying through the air. Namjoon giggled, for once not embarrassed about sounding like a schoolgirl.
Seokjin reached Namjoon and grinned like a fool. He reached into his swim trunks and pulled out his phone encased in a plastic bag. “Let’s take a picture, Namjoon!”
“Of the water?” Namjoon questioned, unsure of what Seokjin meant.
“Of us! Duh!” Namjoon blushed as Seokjin took his phone out of the bag and opened up his camera. He stuck his arm out and jabbed at the younger, trying to get him to smile. Namjoon gave up his stony face and cracked a grin and giggled. Seokjin smiled, striking as usual, and snapped the picture.
Upon further examination, Namjoon declared he looked horrible laughing. Seokjin just rolled his eyes and placed his phone back the plastic bag and closed it tightly.
The rest of the day was spent in the water. Naturally, the pair broke out into a water fight, possibly annoying the rest of the beach-goers. Namjoon giggled all day long until he was red in the face.
The next day, he was red for a different reason. In the rush of fun, he had forgotten to apply sunscreen.
Seokjin smiled and gave him his aloe.
“Hey sorry i was in my own world” delivered 4:00 p.m.
New message: Jinnie hyung
“It’s bueno.” delivered 4:02 p.m
“Come home early tonight??” delivered 4:02 p.m.
Namjoon smiled to himself.
“Sure. can i ask why?” delivered 4:03 p.m.
New message: Jinnie hyung
“Just cause I feel like going out to dinner with yuo.” delivered 4:04 p.m.
“Sure i’ll go to dinner with yuo” delivered 4:05 p.m.
New message: Jinnie Hyung
“Thanks Joon. You always know how to make me feel better about myself :)” delivered 4:05 p.m.
Namjoon shut down his computer and packed his headphones into their case. He popped into the dance studio to find Hoseok dancing with great passion. His moves were so precise, yet so loose at the same time. His movements looked free, but he matched each beat with fire in his eyes. He stared himself down in the mirror at the front of the room. He looked almost angry with his brows furrowed and sweat dripping down his forehead. The tank top he wore was plastered to his back and his shorts rode up with each fiery stomp of his feet or swing of his hips. Hoseok may be a total goof most times, but if there was anything he was serious about, it was dancing. To see him dance was truly a sight; it exposed a passion few outside the studio saw.
Hoseok turned and was taken aback by Namjoon watching him with admiration. The elder stopped in his tracks, arms crossed in front of him. A moment later, the blaring music snapped him out of his trance. He stepped to his phone and speakers, and clicked a button, turning the music off.
“What can I do for you today?” Hoseok asked Namjoon before attacking his water bottle with almost as much intensity as his dance moves.
“I’m leaving early. Just thought I’d let you know,” Namjoon spoke. He hoped Hoseok wouldn’t be nosy and pry into his private life, as usual. Fortunately, he seemed eager to return to his dancing.
“Cool. Bye.” With that, Hoseok restarted the music and stepped to the center of the mirror. He took in a deep breath and struck the beginning pose.
As Namjoon walked out, he thought about how truly talented his friend was. He had choreographed that dance by himself, often asking Namjoon which movement matched a particular beat the best.
A voice called out. Namjoon turned to see Youngsoo standing with a water bottle gripped in his hand. “Where are you heading this early?” He asked as he scratched at his side.
“Home,” came the simple answer.
Youngsoo shrugged, seemingly pleased. “Be safe.” He winked, then turned towards the recording studio.
Namjoon pushed the door open and pondered what Youngsoo meant. Outside of the company building, the sunshine greeted Namjoon with vigor. It shone as bright as ever, perhaps even brighter than usual. Today was a good day, and maybe that had something to do with it.
Namjoon loved it. Maybe he loved his counterpart, as well.
He pulled his key out of his back pocket and pushed it into the lock with ease. He entered and pulled his shoes off on the small mat by the door. Namjoon noticed a small red petal resting on the hardwood floor. Curious, Namjoon picked it up and held it between his fingers. He examined it before deciding to ask Seokjin.
Getting up from his kneeling position, Namjoon heard a quiet noise come from the back of the apartment. He stood and walked cautiously towards the sound. Seokjin emerged in a crisp white button down and black jeans with a bouquet of roses. His hair was styled gently, but it still managed to look natural.
On the contrary, Namjoon was in sweatpants with a hole towards the left knee and a white tee shirt with a number of indiscernible stains. He blushed, feeling underdressed.
“You’re home early,” Seokjin commented.
“I… left when you texted,” Namjoon stumbled over his words.
“Get changed and we can go, alright?”
“Can I ask something?”
“Uh… what’s with the roses?”
“Oh!” Seokjin slapped his forehead. “They’re for you, Namjoon.”
Namjoon blushed even deeper. “Is this… a date?”
Seokjin nodded. “If you’re alright with that, then I believe that this will be our first date.”
Namjoon grinned and excused himself to his room.
After remembering the sight of Seokjin in such an attractive outfit for a later date, Namjoon got dressed. He chose a white dress shirt and a pair of grey slacks. He stepped out in a pair of black dress shoes and smiled sheepishly as Seokjin nodded in approval.
“You look nice, Joon. We just need to fix your hair,” he teased. He had set the roses in a vase of water. Namjoon stuck out his tongue.
The two men stood together in the elevator down. Namjoon’s face was painted crimson and Seokjin seemed as confident as ever. Once they exited the elevator, they walked to the front doors in no particular rush. Seokjin held the door for Namjoon. “After you, my good sir.” Namjoon smiled and walked through the door with a quiet giggle. Seokjin smiled adoringly at the younger man.
Seokjin drove to the restaurant. The sun was still high in the sky, shining on their skin through the open windows. The air around them was cool as it past through their hair in a quick breeze. It tousled Seokjin’s styled hair, but maybe it looked even better.
Buildings passed by as Seokjin’s arm hung out in the wind. Namjoon glanced at his elder every now and again, enticed by his good looks.
This was Namjoon’s first date in quite some time, and he was both nervous and excited. He no longer knew proper date etiquette, but this was Seokjin. How bad could it be?
The answer was not bad at all.
Upon arriving, the staff recognized Seokjin and sat them immediately. Seokjin smiled graciously at their waitress as they were lead to their table.
“I can’t believe we’re at Park’s,” Namjoon leaned close to Seokjin in his chair and whispered.
“I’m a chef; what can I say? Plus, my dates deserve the best.” Seokjin winked at Namjoon, who blushed once more. “Take a look at the menu. I’ll be getting my usual.”
Namjoon looked up from his menu and at Seokjin. “What is your usual?”
“The lobster special,” Seokjin replied with a smile.
Suddenly, Namjoon felt overwhelmed. He was in a fancy restaurant with the man of his dreams, who is going to be eating lobster. Lobster . Namjoon had no clue what to order, or what he was allowed to order in terms of price. He nervously glanced down at his menu and scanned the items. Nothing seemed to stand out to him. If he was being honest, he didn’t know what half the items on the menu were.
“Seokjin,” he whispered.
“I don’t… I don’t know what to get.” He blushed and looked down.
Seokjin chuckled lightly. “Well, what do you usually like? Seafood, noodles, beef? If you like it, they have a fancy version of it.”
Namjoon thought for a moment. “I kinda want beef.”
“They have a killer Galbi,” Seokjin suggested.
“Thank you, hyung. I’ll have that.” Namjoon smiled graciously.
“Anytime.” Seokjin beamed.
When the waiter came around, Seokjin ordered for both of them with an air of confidence. Namjoon blushed as he spoke.
Their food arrived not long after, as rumors had spread in the kitchen of an all-star guest in the dining area.
“Bon appetit,” Seokjin said with a grin.
Namjoon hesitantly picked up his fork, almost as if he were waiting for Seokjin’s approval. Seokjin placed his napkin on his lap, something only fancy people do, and picked up his fork as well. He began to work on his lobster, indirectly giving Namjoon permission to start eating.
The food was incredible. Seokjin was right; it was a fancy Galbi. He had even let Namjoon try a little bit of his food. Namjoon wasn’t the biggest seafood fan, but it tasted great. Seokjin paid, in addition to a generous tip. Namjoon tried to convince him to let himself at least leave the tip, but Seokjin insisted it was his treat. Namjoon thanked him profusely.
“Thank you for a wonderful night, Seokjin,” Namjoon said as they walked out of the restaurant.
“It was my pleasure, Namjoon,” Seokjin replied, placing his arm around Namjoon’s shoulders. To anyone else, it could have looked like a friendly embrace. But Namjoon knew it was something more. Seokjin invited him on a date. This was an affectionate move, and Namjoon was eating it up. He loved the attention.
Namjoon was a bit taller than Seokjin, but not by much. Seokjin had to raise his arm slightly to accommodate Namjoon’s height, but it was nothing more than a bit awkward. Namjoon felt comfortable, as he always did with his roommate.
“Thank you for a wonderful first date,” Seokjin said, pulling him a bit closer. As usual, Namjoon blushed, but he didn’t care. Seokjin had a way of making him blush, and for now, Namjoon was fine with that.
“Thank you for taking me out. I haven’t been on a date in years.” Namjoon was telling the truth. The last person he dated was Taehyung, a naive 19 year old that believed in soulmates. He was young and in love, and Namjoon couldn’t blame him. Namjoon was his first real boyfriend, and Taehyung instantly thought they were meant to be together. He was in love with his hyung in about a week and he was overly clingy. Namjoon broke up with him after about two months of dating. Taehyung was heartbroken, but he understood and went on with his life. The last time they had talked, he was dating some Jeon kid. He seemed happy, and Namjoon supported him.
“Anytime, Joon. I haven’t done much outside of my job in quite some time,” Seokjin responded easily.
“Why did you buy me roses?” Namjoon blurted out before thinking.
“I just thought it would be something sweet for our first date, no?”
“No, no it was sweet. Thank you. A lot.” Namjoon leaned in closer to Seokjin.
“Let’s go home, Namjoon-ah.”
During the car ride home, Seokjin broke the comfortable silence.
“You know,” he started, “this is typically the time where I would drop my date off and never see them again. Since we live together, and I think you’re special, I don’t think that will be happening any time soon.”
Namjoon laughed quietly. “You think I’m special?”
“Of course I do. You’re the first producer I’ve ever met, and you’re great at what you do. I love every song you make and I’m so happy you let me listen to them. You’re very cute as well, especially when you blush like you are now.” He said, not even looking at Namjoon to tell if he was blushing. This only deepened the red on his cheeks.
“Thank you,” Namjoon murmured.
Seokjin smiled and continued to drive.
The pair arrived at their apartment shortly thereafter. Seokjin unlocked the door and walked inside, slipping his shoes off on the mat in front of the door. Namjoon followed him in.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m tired,” Seokjin stated, carrying his shoes into his room to change.
Namjoon entered his own room and closed the door behind him. He threw his fancy shoes down and fell back on his bed with his arms above his head and a grin plastered on his face. He exhaled, feeling warm. Seokjin bought him roses, took him out to a fancy dinner, and he even paid. What a dream man.
Screw a slow build, Namjoon thought, I’m falling fast.
After a few minutes of laying on his bed, the sound of a knock on his door woke him up from his trance.
“Just a minute!” He called out. He began working at the buttons on his shirt, but his fingers became shaky. He breathed out and tried to unbutton his shirt.
“I’m gonna come in!” Seokjin’s teasing voice was muffled from behind the door.
Namjoon frowned and threw his shirt down on the floor and unbuttoned his pants, then pulled them off as well. He searched for his pajamas, then remembered he had thrown them in the wash before he left for work that morning. Sighing, he walked up to his door.
“Hey, hyung?” He asked hesitantly.
“Yes?” Came the reply from outside his room.
“I… left my pajamas in the wash this morning and I don’t have another pair.” Embarrassed, he paused.
“I don’t know.”
“We’re both guys, Namjoon, and I’ve already seen you in your swim trunks, so it’s not much different.” Seokjin paused for a moment, then spoke again. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ll loan you a pair of my pants,” he said, hoping to entice Namjoon into coming out.
After careful consideration and eventually the decision that he just doesn’t care, Namjoon opened up his door. Seokjin whistled jokingly. “We need to take you shopping, young man.”
“I thought I had another pair but I guess they just got lost.”
“In that mess of a room?” Seokjin peered in behind Namjoon. “I’m not surprised.” After Namjoon closed the door, Seokjin walked him into his own room, enjoying the view. He dug through his own clothes to find a pair of pajama pants suitable for Namjoon and handed them to him with a smile. Namjoon thanked him and slipped them on. “It’s only nine o’clock. What would you like to do?”
“Let’s watch a movie or something,” Namjoon suggested. Seokjin motioned for him to go first with a bow. Namjoon shook his head and walked forward.
He sat on the couch and crossed one leg over his other. Seokjin sat close to him and again placed his arm behind the younger of the two. Namjoon comfortably leaned back with his lips upturned slightly. He scooted closer to Seokjin, closing the gap between them. Seokjin picked up the remote by his side and turned on the television. A horror movie appeared as the television faded into life.
As the movie went on, Namjoon grew scared. Whenever a scary part came up, he would tense up against Seokjin’s arm. At one point, he even let out a small squeal and turned his head away from the screen. Seokjin just chuckled and rubbed at Namjoon’s shoulder. Several times Seokjin offered to just turn the movie off so they could go to bed, but Namjoon insisted he could handle it.
Once the movie finished, it was close to eleven. Both men were sufficiently tired. They decided to call it a night after turning off the television and retreating to Seokjin’s room like they had the previous night.
Namjoon had hardly ever been in Seokjin’s room, and the feel was still so foreign. He had never even been in his bed, let alone slept in it with the man in question. However, Namjoon was far from objecting to the action.
As they settled in for the night, Seokjin turned off the light and turned to face Namjoon.
“Thank you for coming with me tonight,” he whispered, breath tickling the younger’s face.
“Thank you for taking me,” Namjoon returned.
The two blinked in the darkness, barely able to make out the other’s features. Namjoon still thought Seokjin looked absolutely beautiful.
“Goodnight, Joonie.” He leaned forward slowly, slow enough for Namjoon to know what was happening. He took in a shaky breath and screwed his eyes shut.
Typically, Namjoon doesn’t kiss on first dates. Then again, he typically doesn’t sleep in the same bed as someone right after their first date. Namjoon didn’t kiss Taehyung for almost two weeks, and they never slept together. But Seokjin wasn’t Taehyung. There definitely was something different between them. Maybe it’s the fact that they’ve been roommates for over a year, but maybe there was always something between the pair.
Seokjin’s breath fanned across Namjoon’s cheeks and chin. Seokjin’s lips were the only thing Namjoon was focused on in the dark of the room. They pressed gently against Namjoon’s own for just a moment before they were gone. Namjoon grinned with his eyes closed, quite content with himself. “Goodnight, Namjoon-ah.”
“Night, Jinnie,” he whispered, eyes now tired and closed gently. “Goodnight…”
When Namjoon opened his eyes, his surroundings were bleached white. He reached out a hand, only for it to be stopped at his side. His breathing quickened as his heart slammed into his ribs. He tested his other arm and both of his legs, only to find they were restrained as well. A lump grew in his throat; Namjoon felt like he was about to throw up. He looked to his left, desperate to find Seokjin, then to his right, only to encounter white as far as he could see. His blood rushed to his brain. His breathing echoed in his ears. The restraints grew tighter, cutting off his circulation.
Suddenly, a mass of dark grey appeared in the distance. Namjoon tried to call out, but the strain on his throat was too much. He could hardly breathe, let alone yell. The mass drew closer as the tension grew. Apprehensive, Namjoon held still. The pressure of his restraints eased up slightly, and Namjoon could breathe again. The mess of grey was floating and it seemed almost ethereal. Namjoon felt almost calm in its presence. Maybe it was Seokjin in disguise.
Seokjin. Where was he?
Namjoon peered at the apparition as it closed in on him. It began to feel more threatening as it came closer. Namjoon’s heart rate increased once more and he swallowed thickly. He tried to make noise, to scare away whatever was approaching him, but it didn’t work. It would never work as long as he was trapped wherever he was.
The creature sped up greatly and was in front of him before he could blink.
Its breath smelled putrid, like rotten eggs or a dead animal. It had no face or distinguishable features, just a tangle of grey matter lumped in a ratty cloak.
“Nam… Joon…” The voice croaked out, its scent wafting into Namjoon’s nose. It whispered in a deep, gravelly voice. “Namjoon. Namjoon Namjoon Namjoon,” it grew faster and faster until he was chanting his name. The volume of his voice grew from a whisper to a screech. Namjoon wanted to claw at his ears to block out the wretched screaming; his ears felt like they were close to bleeding. His mouth opened in a silent scream.
At this point, everything was agonizingly slow, save for the chanting that assaulted his ears. It felt like it took his mouth months to open fully as he thrashed at his invisible restraints.
“NAMJOON!” The voice crowed.
Namjoon started to cry now, sobs caught in the back of his throat. His body started to convulse as if he were being shaken. He tossed his head back and forth, desperate to find a way to escape from the malevolence.
“Namjoon! Namjoon, please!” It screamed. It was nearly on top of him now and Namjoon tried to scream once more.
But it was useless.
“Namjoon!” Seokjin shouted, luring the younger out of his nightmare. He sat above Namjoon, a leg on either side of him, and shook him as hard as he could without hurting him. Tears leaked from Namjoon’s eyes in his sleep “Namjoon-ah!” Seokjin cried. A groan tore from Namjoon’s chest and he leaned into Seokjin’s touch. He pulled at his shirt and continued to shake him until Namjoon shot up, knocking Seokjin back. He shifted his leg as he gazed at Namjoon. His eyes opened slowly and he looked around, clearly frightened. “Namjoon,” Seokjin snapped, hoping to draw his attention. Namjoon whipped his head towards the voice in the dark, close to hyperventilating. Realizing his nightmare was over, he fell towards him. His body slouched in Seokjin’s arms. “I’m here,” he whispered, rubbing at Namjoon’s back. Namjoon sobbed quietly, shaking in his hyung’s arms.
“‘T wa-was so sc-ary.” Hiccups cut into his speech, his words sounding dodgy.
“I know Joonie, but I’m here now. Jinnie’s here,” Seokjin cooed, hugging him tightly.
Namjoon doesn’t say anything for the next few minutes; he merely cried into Seokjin’s shoulder.
When he finally does speak, he’s quiet, but calmer than he was when he first woke up. “I’m sorry, Jin.”
Seokjin, still holding Namjoon close, whispered back, “Don’t be.” This was the first time Namjoon had a nightmare with Seokjin, but they happened several times a month. He was used to it. The heavy breathing, the shaking, and the crying. This time, he was with Seokjin, and he was embarrassed.
He exhaled, eyes sore from crying. “Can we… can we go back to sleep please?”
Seokjin nodded. “Of course.” He laid down, pulling Namjoon down with him. With a quick press of his lips to his forehead, he closed his eyes once more.
The next time Namjoon woke up, it was to the gentle breath of Seokjin and the light streaming in through the window. No more nightmares. He sucked in his bottom lip, remembering the brief feeling of Seokjin’s lips on his from the night before. He moved his hand from his side to touch his forehead with his fingertips. Nearly giddy, he smiled to himself. Seokjin kissed him!
“Seokjinnie hyung,” he whispered, “wake up. I want breakfast.”
Seokjin’s lips upturned in a smile. “G’morning,” he croaked, throat scratchy. “Your eyes are puffy.”
“I know I’m a wimp.”
“I never said that. You just had a rough night. I have a stick that helps with that, by the way.”
“Thank you hyung.”
“Love hearing that.” Seokjin grinned and sat up, arms leaving Namjoon, who huffed and sat himself up. “Let’s stay home today,” he suggested, crossing his legs.
“But Minjun-” Namjoon started.
“Did Minjun kiss you goodnight? I don’t think so. Listen to hyung,” Seokjin scolded lightly before standing. “Do you still want breakfast?” Namjoon nodded. Seokjin tugged at his bare arm gently. Namjoon allowed himself to be pulled up by Seokjin with a smile. “Throw on a shirt before that neighbor girl starts eyeing you.”
“No one is eyeing me. Well, except maybe you,” Namjoon commented, lumbering into his room as Seokjin trotted into the kitchen. In his room, Namjoon shoveled through his drawers to find a clean shirt. He came across a grey shirt with a simple black smiley face in a box where his heart was. He bought it from a street vendor that designed shirts by hand and printed them herself.
“Cute shirt,” Seokjin said as he gestured to the shirt in question.
Namjoon nodded. “What’s for breakfast?”
“Sweet egg sandwich, homemade by yours truly. Better than those on the streets. Cleaner, too,” he rambled. Namjoon mostly ignored him and eyed the toast laying on a paper towel. Maybe Seokjin wouldn’t notice if he just…
“Joon!” He shouted. “No stealing the bread,” he declared, swatting the younger’s hand away. Namjoon fake pouted and retreated to the couch. “I know it’s rye, but you can have it when breakfast is ready.”
While he waited, Namjoon pulled out his phone to text Hoseok.
“*cough cough* won’t be in today. Too sick” delivered 9:25 a.m.
New message: Hoseok hyung
“Awwww are u being seokjinnies baby boyyyyyyy?” delivered 9:26 a.m.
“Hyung!” Namjoon called in the direction of the kitchen. “Hoseok wants to know if I’m your baby boy.”
“Yes,” Seokjin responded without a doubt.
“Seokjinnie says yes so suck it.” delivered 9:28 a.m.
Namjoon didn’t receive another text from Hoseok for the rest of the morning.
“Come sit at the table, Joon-ah.” Seokjin beckoned for him to join him in the kitchen. Namjoon stood, popping his knuckles as he crossed the threshold from living room to kitchen. He pulled out a chair for himself and sat down, legs automatically crossing. “I’m hungry.”
“Good thing I make the best food in all of Korea,” Seokjin commented as he placed the egg sandwiches on a pair of plates for them both. Namjoon simply nodded. “A fork for you,” Seokjin spoke as he pulled out the utensil, “and a fork for me.” Balancing both plates in his hands, Seokjin waddled to the table. He set a plate in front of Namjoon, who dug in before Seokjin could set his own plate down. Seokjin rolled his eyes and set his plate down on the placemat at the seat nearest Namjoon. He moved his chair out, then sat down. “What would you like to do today, Joon?”
This time, Namjoon swallowed before answering. “I don’t know. I don’t really have much free time.” He crammed a bite that was maybe too big in his mouth.
Seokjin contemplated his response while he chewed thoughtfully. After swallowing, he opened his mouth, then closed it again. “I don’t want to just stay at home all day and do nothing. I want to do something with you today.” After another bite, Seokjin decided what he and Namjoon would be doing that day. “Hey, Joon.”
Namjoon looked up from his plate. “Yes?”
“Remember how I said you need new clothes?”
Namjoon blinked slowly, not knowing where Seokjin was going with his words. “What about it?”
“Let’s take you shopping today.” Seokjin forked another bite into his mouth.
“Oh, but I don’t have any money right now and-” Namjoon began.
“Nonsense. My treat,” Seokjin dismissed him with a wave of his hand.
Namjoon’s mouth dropped open. “Hyung, are you sure?”
Seokjin nodded, a bite of egg in his mouth. “Shower and we can go.”
After finishing his food, Namjoon, still slightly shocked, set his plate in the sink to be washed later. Almost robotically, he walked into the bathroom and undressed. He threw his clothes to the floor, away from the floor mat so they wouldn’t get wet.
In the shower, Namjoon let the warm water wash over his body. He closed his eyes and smiled to himself. He grabbed the shampoo and dispensed a generous amount into the palm of his hand. Rubbing it into his hair, he thought about what Seokjin would let him buy. Of course, he’d want everything he would lay his eyes on, but it’s not like Seokjin would actually buy him everything that he wanted. Namjoon was nervous about their shopping trip. He brushed the feeling aside and rinsed out the shampoo. Bubbles from his hair dripped down his body. He squirted some conditioner into his hand and worked it to suds. Seokjin was right; he needed new pajamas. Maybe that’s what he would get himself. A nice, comfortable pair of pants and a light shirt for sleeping in. It’s getting cold, too… Maybe a sweater?
As he rinsed the bubbles off of his body, he sighed. He didn’t know what he wanted, or where Seokjin would take him. All he knows is that he’ll go with Seokjin wherever without complaint.
Once out of the shower, he dried off his hair with a red towel until it was nothing more than damp. He rubbed it down his body slowly, then wrapped it around his waist. It hung just above the widest part of his hips. Droplets of water clung to the tips of his brown hair. With a comb, he pulled his hair back until the water dripped down his back. He hummed quietly to himself and grabbed his purple toothbrush out of the small vase where it was kept. Seokjin’s blue toothbrush, which was resting against Namjoon’s, fell against the container. He squeezed the tube of toothpaste and a small portion of the substance landed on the bristles. He turned on the faucet and wet his brush, then scrubbed it gently against his teeth. He spit it out, then rinsed his mouth out with cold water.
“Namjoon-ah!” Seokjin’s call was accompanied by a few knocks on the door. “Are you almost done in there?”
“Yeah!” Namjoon returned. He dropped his toothbrush back in the holder and opened the door. He stepped out and looked around. The door to Seokjin’s room was open. He peeked in. Seokjin was laying on his back, eyes closed and ankles crossed. He was already dressed in a simple blue sweater that clung to his broad shoulders and a pair of jeans. They were rolled up at the ankles, exposing a patch of his tan skin. His feet donned a pair of black Converse.
Seokjin looked beautiful.
Namjoon snuck back into his room, hoping he wasn’t seen by his hyung. He threw the towel on the floor, hoping to remember to pick it up later. He sifted through his drawers, which were left open from the previous night. He found a pair of boxers and slipped them on, then began the hunt for clothing.
Eventually, he spotted a pair of jeans and pulled them up his thighs. It was cold that day, so Namjoon pulled a burgundy turtleneck from a hanger hidden in his mess of a closet. After he pulled it on, Namjoon walked back into the bathroom. He re-brushed his hair, then messed it up a bit. He turned to tell Seokjin he was ready, then nearly ran into him.
“I’m ready,” he said with a sheepish grin.
“I’m glad to hear it,” Seokjin responded with a charismatic smile that almost made Namjoon melt.
In the car, Seokjin drove and Namjoon sat timidly in the passenger seat. His hands sat folded in his lap. The radio was playing, quiet under the sound of the wind around them. Namjoon vaguely recognized the song as an old 4Minute song. He quite enjoyed the group and was upset when they disbanded.
“What are you thinking about?” Seokjin’s voice interrupted Namjoon’s thoughts.
“Not much, really,” he spoke after a moment of thinking. “I don’t know where we are. Are we almost there?”
Seokjin nodded, eyes still focused on the road ahead of him.
Seokjin parked the car on the side of the road in front of a stylish looking store. Seokjin unbuckled his seatbelt, and Namjoon followed suit.
In the store, Seokjin immediately set to browsing the expensive looking clothing that hung on various racks.
“Seokjin, are you sure? This stuff… looks expensive…” Namjoon trailed off and looked at a price tag. It read 67,000 won.
“Of course. Anything for you.” Seokjin glanced at the blushing Namjoon. He turned away, busying himself by observing an ugly pair of slacks. The hips were too wide for Namjoon’s liking.
Namjoon gravitated towards a fluffy looking sweater. It was light blue, almost like the color of the sky, with a small white cloud embroidered on the collar. It was only 25,000 won, but did he really need it? Sending a forlorn look towards the sweater, he walked off after deciding he didn’t need it that bad.
Across the store, Seokjin eyed him as he held the sweater with a slight smile lighting up his face. When he walked away, Seokjin was confused. If he liked it, he could just ask Seokjin to buy it for him. He made note of that sweater before continuing to look through the section he was in.
When the pair met up nearly half an hour later, Namjoon had chosen two pairs of ankle length pajama bottoms, one with animated dogs and the other with simple stripes, and two plain shirts that would serve as sleep shirts. Seokjin, on the other hand, had a cart full of various items. Seokjin pulled out clothing after clothing and handed it to Namjoon. He saw two sweaters, four shirts, a pair of sweatpants, and two pairs of jeans. “For you,” he commented with a grin.
“Seokjin, I-” Namjoon started.
“Try them on,” he commanded him. Namjoon gave in and walked to the dressing rooms with Seokjin close behind.
The first pair of jeans had folds sewn into the hem just above the ankle. They were dark blue denim and fit him nicely. They hugged his thighs comfortably and made his butt look good. The sweater he tried on was oversized and purple. The sleeves were longer, covering half of his hands. It was soft and tickled his stomach. He slid the curtain to the side and stepped out, catching Seokjin’s eye. He nodded in approval, then motioned for him to turn.
“What a handsome young man,” he spoke to Namjoon’s backside. Namjoon played with his fingers as Seokjin admired him. “Next.”
The next pair of jeans were just a simple pair of light blue skinny jeans that clung to his ankles. The sweater was tight fitting; he would need the next size up. It was a red cable knit sweater with a simple pattern decorating the front and back. He emerged once more.
“The jeans are nice. I’ll grab a bigger sweater.” Seokjin turned and didn’t return until Namjoon had the grey sweatpants on. He had changed back into the turtleneck he had worn to the store since the shirts were basic enough that he knew they would fit. The shirts had various designs, including a yellow and white striped top that Namjoon particularly liked.
“Do they fit well?” Seokjin asked, placing the new sweater in the cart beside him. He also carried a bag from the store in his other hand.
Namjoon nodded, slipping his hands into the pockets; they were deep. “What’s with the bag?”
Seokjin shrugged. “I guess you’ll have to find out.” Namjoon rolled his eyes and went back into the dressing room to change.
He stepped out in his regular clothes, turtleneck folded over, exposing a sliver of his neck.
“That color looks good with your skin,” Seokjin commented. Namjoon glanced down at his torso, almost as if he had forgotten what he was wearing. It was almost as if Seokjin had a hobby of making Namjoon turn red.
“Thank you,” Namjoon near stuttered.
Seokjin smiled as he handed his credit card to the cashier. He was an older man; his nametag read “Haesung”.
“14,000 won,” said the man with a wink. He swiped Seokjin’s card in the machine. “Thank you, have a nice day.” He grinned as he sent them off.
In the car, Namjoon thanked him profusely. “Thank you so much, hyung. It really means a lot to me.”
“Anytime.” Seokjin smiled as he turned the key in the ignition. The car rumbled to life around them.
Seokjin was so sweet; what had Namjoon ever done to deserve him?
Namjoon’s phone buzzed, sounding dull in his pocket.
New message: Minjun-ah
“Hyung where are you?? I wanna produce today” delivered 11:03 a.m.
“Out and about today.” delivered 11:04 a.m.
“Who was that?” Seokjin asked as he maneuvered out of the parking spot.
“Just Minjun wondering where I am.” Namjoon pushed his phone back into his pocket.
Seokjin nodded. “Cute kid.”
“He’s not really a kid. He’s like 19 now.”
“Still younger than us. And Jimin, Hoseok, and Yoongi.”
Namjoon shrugged. Seokjin spun the wheel expertly and merged onto the highway.
“What do we do with the rest of our day?” Seokjin asked, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the console.
Namjoon glanced down at it, tempted to grab it. “Uh… I don’t know.”
“It’s only eleven, and we have the whole day together until we go back to work.” Seokjin rubbed his thumb on the steering wheel, causing Namjoon to smile.
“We could walk around downtown,” Namjoon suggested after a few moments of silence between the two.
“Lovely,” Seokjin responded.
Downtown. It smelled like pollution but it was oh so fun to wander the streets during the midday. The streets were bustling with people, noisy as ever. Businessmen strutted past on their phones, conversing plainly over some important matter. Schoolgirls chattered endlessly over the next big idol group; Namjoon never once heard Violet mentioned. Street vendors shouted above the din, aiming to sell their goods, be it clothing, accessories, or food.
Seokjin breathed out, a smile playing on his face. “Don’t you love it?”
Namjoon stuck close to Seokjin, afraid of being separated. He nodded in response. When he realized Seokjin couldn’t hear his nod, he spoke up. “I sure do.”
They spent the next few hours roaming the streets of downtown Seoul, passing by characters of all sorts. Namjoon found a shirt with a phrase in English he wanted to buy simply because it was so ridiculous. It read “Hate Without Raisin”. Namjoon explained why it was funny to Seokjin, who didn’t speak English. He laughed all the same.
Seokjin’s laugh wasn’t perfect by any means. It sounded like someone cleaning glass if Namjoon was being honest. Namjoon found Seokjin’s little quirks, like his crooked fingers or his odd laugh, endearing in the sweetest way. It was like young love, but neither of them were in high school, or even college, anymore. They were both adults. Yet Namjoon still had such a crush on him that he felt like he was a teenager again.
Seokjin leaned in to whisper in Namjoon’s ear. “Hold my hand.” His breath felt warm against the side of his face.
“But we’re in Korea,” Namjoon whispered back.
“But isn’t this like a date? Shouldn’t dates hold hands?” Namjoon blushed. “Yeah?” Seokjin reached down with his right hand and grabbed Namjoon’s hand. He intertwined their fingers. Namjoon was stunned as Seokjin gripped his hand in his own. He felt almost giddy. He loved physical contact with Seokjin.
The pair continued to walk until it was nearly five in the afternoon. They had left the crowded streets and stumbled upon a small flower shop run by an energetic young woman.
“Good evening, gentlemen! My name is Eunmi, and I’ll be here if you need me,” the woman said cheerily.
“Wow, so pretty…” Namjoon mused. He pointed to Korea’s national flower. “It’s a hibiscus something.” Namjoon tried to remember the second part of the flower’s name.
“Hibiscus Syriacus,” Eunmi spoke up from behind them. Her combat boots rested on the messy desk. It was littered with various papers and pens, including a gorgeous flower sitting in a burgundy pot. The plant was no more than a few inches tall with a green stem supporting a heavy looking flower. The flower itself was white with pink streaks in the curved petals.
Namjoon was drawn to it.
He tugged at Seokjin’s sleeve, who turned to look at what Namjoon was eagerly pointing at.
“Look, Joon, the pot matches your sweater!” Seokjin laughed at the coincidence. Namjoon smiled upon hearing his laugh. “What kind of flower is it?”
“It’s a Chrysanthemum, imported from America. It was quite a hassle to get it through customs, but it was worth it. They practically flew off the shelves. This here is our last one.” Her short blonde hair bobbed as she spoke animatedly about the plant.
Seokjin inspected the plant. It was quite lively, and it smelled lovely. The price tag on the bottom of the pot read 7,000 won.
Eunmi explained the watering instructions and happily accepted Seokjin’s money. “Thank you for visiting! Have a nice day!” She called after them as they exited. Namjoon turned and waved before walking out of the door.
They were met with a light dusting of rain. Plant in hand, Seokjin grabbed Namjoon’s hand once more and pulled, sending him flying towards him. Seokjin took off in a sprint, dragging Namjoon with him.
“Hyung!” He shouted. Seokjin looked back for a brief moment before continuing to run through the rain.
The streets of Seoul were quieter now that rain was involved. Passersby ducked under awnings or stood shoulder to shoulder in various stores. Namjoon and Seokjin continued to run gleefully through the water droplets, giggling all the way. The plant was shaking in its pot.
Eventually, the pair reached their car and ducked in, slamming the doors behind them.
Namjoon breathed out, then looked over at Seokjin, who was panting.
He looked beautiful.
Seokjin turned to look at Namjoon, who might have been staring. “That was fun,” he breathed out a laugh. The rain tapped quietly at the roof of the car, creating a pleasant ambient noise.
Seokjin’s hand was behind Namjoon’s neck, bringing him closer until their lips were almost touching. A tilt of his head brought them together.
Namjoon was desperate. To touch, to feel, to love. In that moment, with his lips moving against Seokjin’s, he knew he was in love. He was in love with the chef that cooked for him daily and left him pink notes with hearts on the counter for him. He was in love with the man that cared for him when he neglected himself. He fell in love with Kim Seokjin. Every quirk that made Seokjin himself made Namjoon fall in love. His endearing smile, his love of himself, his culinary skills, the way he consoles Namjoon when he’s stricken with nightmares, his everything.
Namjoon was in love.
Seokjin pulled back too soon, pink lips wet. He breathed fast as an awestruck Namjoon grinned like a fool. Seokjin shook his head and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He brushed back his hair, which was slightly damp from the rain. It stuck out at odd angles, which Namjoon found funny.
Seokjin turned the key in the ignition, waking up the car. The rain was coming down harder now, so he turned on the windshield wipers. Again, Seokjin rested one hand on the console in between the pair. Emboldened by the bout of kissing, Namjoon placed his hand on Seokjin’s as he drove away. Eyes on the road, Seokjin smiled.
At home, Namjoon helped Seokjin carry in what they had bought while they were out. He carried the plant and a bag, while Seokjin carried the other bags. That included the bag that Namjoon didn’t know the contents of. “Can I know what’s in the bag now?” He asked in the elevator.
Seokjin shook his head. “I’m thinking Christmas present.”
“But it’s November!” Namjoon whined. The pair stepped out, bags barely weighing them down. Namjoon carefully held the potted plant in his hand as Seokjin struggled to reach his keys.
“Namjoon-ah, do me a favor and get the keys. They’re in my back pocket.” Seokjin motioned with his head for Namjoon to do as he was told.
Namjoon gulped. He set the bag and plant down; he didn’t understand why Seokjin couldn’t do the same thing. He reached carefully into Seokjin’s pocket, who shivered slightly at the contact. Namjoon pretended he didn’t notice. He fished the keys out, then triumphantly unlocked the door and ushered Seokjin in. Namjoon picked up the bag and the plant and walked funnily into the apartment.
“You’re cute,” Seokjin commented.
They set the bags in the laundry room, where they took the tags off the clothes and shoved them in the washing machine. Before Seokjin started it, he shoved Namjoon out of the room, telling him to find a place for their plant. Namjoon raised his hands in defeat.
Outside of the laundry room, Namjoon found a window that provided ample sunlight. All they would need now is follow the verbal instructions Eunmi at the flower shop had given them.
The washing machine turned on in the other room, a quiet hum in the background. Seokjin appeared behind Namjoon. “What should we name it?” Namjoon jumped, accompanied by a sharp intake of breath.
“You scared me,” Namjoon breathed out. He turned to face Seokjin, who shrugged.
“I think we should name him something cute. What about Plum?” Seokjin suggested.
“So it’s a Violet fan?” Namjoon returned, glancing out the window. A car drove past in the alleyway beside their apartment.
“In this family, we all stan Violet.”
Were they a family? Was this plant like their child? They weren’t even dating. Yet.
“Plum it is!” Seokjin cried. He wrapped his long arms around Namjoon’s unsuspecting form, startling the younger man. He leaned over him, resting his chin on his shoulder. They stood over their Plum, hugging gently.
Seokjin broke away a few moments later, leaving Namjoon feeling cold.
At the table, Seokjin set the plates next to each other. Namjoon sat first, followed by his hyung. For dinner, Seokjin had prepared beef and noodles accompanied by various vegetables. Namjoon picked up his fork and dug in. He slurped a noodle and it retaliated by slapping pitifully against the space between his lips and his nose. Seokjin noticed as Namjoon continued to eat his food.
“Namjoon-ah,” he spoke softly, “look at me.”
Namjoon whipped his head up to gawk at the older man. Still in the air, his fork held a piece of beef and a dainty mushroom.
Seokjin smiled and swiped his thumb across the younger’s upper lip. He brought it to his own mouth and licked the sauce off. “Wow… I’m such a good chef,” he teased before picking up his own fork. Namjoon blushed profusely and lowered his head in shame of his messy eating. He ate slower then, roughly at the same pace as Seokjin.
About fifteen minutes later, the pair had set their plates in the sink and retired to Seokjin’s room. Seokjin shucked off his shirt and tossed it into the hamper in the corner of the room. He plucked his nightshirt from the bed and pulled it over his head, ruffling his hair in the process. Having changed in his room, Namjoon curled up underneath the covers while he waited for Seokjin to find his pajama pants.
Namjoon marveled at how smooth Seokjin’s legs were. Not a blemish marked the backs of his legs. They were almost perfect. As Seokjin pulled up his pants, Namjoon busied himself with his phone. He had no new text messages. No social media notifications. Nothing. He had no reason to be on his phone. No reason not to stare at the perfection that was Kim Seokjin.
“Ready for bed, Namjoon?” Seokjin asked, turning to face the bed. Namjoon nodded and pulled the blankets up to his chin.
The rain had started again. It was tapping gently at the window where Plum sat. Was he lonely? Namjoon wondered. There were no other flowers for him to socialize with, or to at least admire from a close proximity. Namjoon vowed to one day to return to the lonely flower shop run by the soft punk Eunmi to purchase a friend for Plum.
Seokjin sighed, sounding content. He slipped into bed himself and shoved his feet under the cool blankets. He rolled to his side and rested his head on the pillow next to Namjoon. A smile crept up to his face, illuminating his tanned face in the dark of the night. The low light of the moon shone in, further lighting up Seokjin’s form through the window above them. “Come here,” he whispered.
Namjoon maneuvered his body so that he was closer to his hyung. Seokjin threw his arm over the younger man. He leaned in and gave Namjoon a quick peck on the lips before pulling back. He left Namjoon wanting more, as usual.
Before he knew it, Namjoon’s eyes were closing on their own accord. The sound of the rain on the windows of their apartment and Seokjin’s rhythmic breathing were gradually lulling the younger of the two to sleep. Seokjin noticed and brushed away Namjoon’s bangs.
“Goodnight, my dongsaeng.”
I'm only 2 days late! A new record! This is about half the length of the last two chapters because I'm so uninspired lately and I'm working on Matcha too (which you should read even if you don't stan VIXX) so that's kinda draining. Thank you for reading!
At five in the morning, Namjoon’s eyes opened on their own. He was staring at the bare ceiling. Seokjin breathed quietly next to him; he was laying on his side, facing away from Namjoon.
He didn’t have another nightmare, he just couldn’t sleep. The rain had continued throughout the night. Namjoon shimmied himself out of the bed and shuffled out of the room, careful to keep Seokjin sleeping.
He found himself looming over Plum. He caressed one of its petals carefully.
Next, he entered the kitchen. He opened the fridge, bright light assaulting his eyes in the dark of the house. Squinting, he felt around for the bottle of juice. After finding it, he closed the fridge and twisted off the cap. He took a quick swig before returning the juice to its place in the fridge.
Finally, he lumbered back into the bedroom, where Seokjin was sitting upright.
“Where did you go, Joon?” Seokjin asked, sleep evident in his voice.
“I’m sorry, hyung. I didn’t mean to wake you up,” Namjoon apologized. He walked to the bed and sat at the edge.
“It’s fine.” Seokjin repeated his question.
“I just walked around for a minute. Needed to stretch or something,” Namjoon answered.
Namjoon could barely see Seokjin’s nod. “Come back to bed. It’s cold without you.”
Namjoon crawled back in, closer than before. Somehow, Seokjin pulled him closer until Namjoon’s forehead touched his chest.
“Go back to sleep,” he whispered, an arm laying across his body.
Sleep tugged at Namjoon, who was desperate to stay in that intimate moment with his hyung. In his last thoughts before he went under, he cursed sleep for taking him away.
The next time Namjoon’s eyes opened, it was almost nine in the morning. Seokjin was gone, most likely in the kitchen preparing a breakfast of delicious proportions. Namjoon hoisted himself into a sitting position on the corner of the bed. He sniffed once; he smelled cinnamon. Excited, Namjoon shifted himself so that he was standing. He shuffled into the kitchen, where Seokjin stood above the stove in one of his aprons. A bottle of vanilla and a container half full of cinnamon sat unattended on the counter. In the pot on the stove, rice cooked away.
“Oh! You’re awake!” Seokjin turned in surprise to see the sleepy man standing before him. “I was going to serve you breakfast in bed,” Seokjin tutted.
“I can go back to bed, but then you wouldn’t have my company,” Namjoon retaliated teasingly.
“What’s with the cinnamon?” Namjoon pointed at the bottle as he hopped up onto the counter beside Seokjin. He ducked his head before he hit the cabinet behind him.
“Cinnamon rice!” Seokjin chirped.
Namjoon nodded appreciatively. He always enjoyed the food Seokjin whipped up, especially in the morning when Namjoon really needed a pick-me-up.
“How was your sleep?” Seokjin teased. “I thought you would never wake up.”
“I slept alright.” The room was quiet save for the rice sizzling in its pan. Seokjin added a dash of vanilla to the mix and stirred with his spoon. Then, he added a heaping teaspoon of cinnamon and mixed it in as well. The smell was intoxicating. “Is it almost done?” Namjoon whined. “I’m hungry.”
“Almost there,” Seokjin replied with a smile. The rice was now a soupy brown mixture flecked with specks of cinnamon.
After turning off the stove and pulling out two bowls with spoons, Seokjin removed the pot from the burner and scooped half of it into one bowl and the other half in the second. The chef dipped the spoons in the bowls and placed them on the table in the same spots from the previous night.
“Bon appetit,” Seokjin said in a poor French accent.
Namjoon smiled, wondering what Seokjin just said.
“Hoseok I’m telling you,” Namjoon started, “Matter is gonna be It. The next big thing.” Namjoon turned his chair, effectively spinning to face Hoseok.
“Keep dreaming, loverboy. It’s gonna take years more for them to get their First Win, if they even last that long.” Hoseok frowned and tossed his ball back and forth.
Namjoon crossed his legs. “What’s got you all pessimistic today?”
“Had a bad dream.” Hoseok scowled.
“Uh huh…” Namjoon had mostly lost interest by then and had turned to his computer. “Make the dance real catchy like Sorry, Sorry. Everyone loves a catchy dance.” Namjoon clicked away at his computer.
“Uh huh,” Hoseok mocked.
“What are the boys’ schedules today?”
“Uh… Practice with me from one to five.” Hoseok continued to bounce his ball in his hand.
Namjoon checked his phone. It was 11:02. “Find Minjun. We can work for two hours.”
Hoseok grumbled before standing and sulking off.
Minutes later he returned with an excited Minjun in tow. “Hi, hyung!”
“Hi, hyung!” Hoseok mimicked him before stalking out of the room, probably to the dance studio.
“What’s with him today?” Minjun stared at Hoseok’s back.
“He said he had a bad dream.” Namjoon motioned for Minjun to sit down on the couch.
“When do you think we’ll be done with the B-Side?” Minjun questioned from behind his hyung.
“Soon, soon.” Namjoon clicked, opening the song they were working on. Minjun scooted closer.
“Namjoon hyung,” Minjun whined, “you’re being vague.”
“If we work really hard, we might be able to finish it today after practice,” Namjoon responded. Minjun was a cute kid; he definitely agreed with the Plums that called him a “sweetheart”.
Suddenly, Minjun changed the subject drastically. “How’s Seokjin?”
Namjoon nearly choked on air. “He’s… well. It’s really none of your business, Minjun-ah.” Namjoon composed himself as he slid his headphones up his neck and over his pierced ears. “Let’s work, yeah?”
After the boys of Violet had finished their practice for the day, Minjun returned to the studio, freshly showered. His hair was still damp; it added to his boyish features. His clothes clung to his slim body and a wet spot was developing on his back from where he wasn’t fully dry.
“Welcome back to the lair,” Namjoon greeted him.
“I remember when you said that on my first day producing,” Minjun reminisced. He smoothed his hair with his hand, sleeking it back. His hand came back wet, so he wiped it on his shirt.
“Now. Let’s finish this,” Namjoon stated, getting into a mood. “We’ll only have two more tracks after this, and we’ll add Matter’s instrumental at the end of the album.” Minjun nodded in understanding. “So what should come after this part?” Namjoon pressed play and music began to spout out of his speakers for Minjun to hear.
The music was light and energetic; it sounded almost airy. There was a hint of flute in the background of an electric beat of a deep, pulsing bass.
When it was over, Minjun stood. “May I touch?” Namjoon nodded in approval. Minjun leaned forward, shirt drooping. He grabbed the mouse and opened the panel where various beats lived. He dragged the mouse down, searching for what he wanted. He pulled a metallic crash down into the track field, then two more for good measure. “How’s that?” Minjun looked over at Namjoon and bit his lip.
Namjoon played the song from the beginning of the portion they were working on with Minjun’s additions. He nodded for a moment, considering the new notes to himself. After a few moments of Minjun anxiously nibbling his lip, Namjoon spoke up. “I like it.”
“Really? It’s just something simple I thought up, but I’m glad you like it,” Minjun blabbered on.
“You don’t have to defend your thinking. As producers, it is our job to break boundaries and crush barriers. We have to come up with new ideas to shock and entertain our listeners. We’re like chefs in a busy restaurant, where we have to keep our clients filled with new and enticing entrees.”
“Isn’t your roommate a chef?” Minjun interrupted Namjoon’s speech.
“Well, yes. What does that have to do with anything?” Namjoon was taken aback by the fact that Minjun had drawn the connection between Seokjin and his comparison.
“The roommate you like ?” Minjun questioned.
Minjun interrupted him once more. “Are you two dating yet?”
“Just ask him out already or I’ll do it for you.” Minjun huffed.
Namjoon raised his eyebrow. “And how will you do that?”
“I’ll steal your phone when you’re not looking,” Minjun answered defiantly.
“Yeah, sure you will.” Namjoon rolled his eyes. “Let’s get back to work. What now? The chorus?”
“No, I don’t think so. I think there’s one line more after that,” Minjun interjected.
“You’re right. What should the instrumental be at that part?”
“I think,” Minjun started, “there shouldn’t be an instrumental there. If that’s okay,” he added quickly.
Namjoon nodded. “If you think that is what’s best. You’re co-producer with me here. It all depends on who says the line, and how long it’ll take them to say it. That’s how much silence we need. You say it so we can get an idea.”
“Why do I have to say it?” Minjun complained. “You’re perfectly capable!”
“I’m not a rapper like a certain someone.” Namjoon crossed his arms and eyed Minjun.
He puffed out a breath of air before spouting out the line. His high tone voice shined through the words.
“Me or Youngsoo?” Minjun asked.
“You or Youngsoo what?” Namjoon responded dumbly.
“Who says the line?”
“I was thinking you or Bongchol.”
“Bongchol?” Minjun sounded incredulous. “But he’s not a rapper like you said in the first place!” He complained.
“Yes, but you both have higher voices.”
“Yeah but Bonchol’s is whiny.” He sounded like a child now, defending himself.
“Do you just want more line time?” Namjoon questioned, staring at Minjun.
Minjun looked taken aback. “What are you talking about? Of course not. I’m fine with whoever gets whatever line. I don’t really care as long as someone gets it.” He crossed his arms. “I’m not selfish, you know.”
Namjoon scribbled out Yoongi’s note of “Bongchol” and in its place wrote “Minjun”. He underlined it twice for good measure.
“Take a break, kid,” Namjoon said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. The pants he was wearing were one of the pairs that Seokjin bought him. The ones with the cuffs.
“Minjun is whiny today…” delivered 7:38 p.m.
“PS we’re gonna finish today” delivered 7:39 p.m.
New message: Jinnie hyung
“Yay!! I thought Bongchol was the whiny one?” delivered 7:42 p.m.
“I thought so too. I said i wanted him or Bongchol for a line and he started complaining that he’s the rapper and Bongchol is whiny and blah blah blah” delivered 7:44 p.m.
New message: Jinnie hyung
“Welp.” delivered 7:44 p.m.
“What did you do?” delivered 7:45 p.m.
“Gave him the line” delivered 7:46 p.m.
Namjoon looked up at Minjun, who was busy scrolling through his phone, probably on social media. Minjun has been working hard; he deserves that one line.
New message: Jinnie hyung
“Of course you did, Kim Namjoon.” delivered 7:48 p.m.
Namjoon could imagine Seokjin chiding him with a laugh from home. The thought of Seokjin made Namjoon’s stomach go warm and fuzzy and his brain turn to mush. He truly was head over heels for that man.
Breaking out of his trance, he clapped his hands. “Alright, break’s over. Let’s get back to work, Minjun-ah.”
“So?” Seokjin asked as Namjoon stumbled in through the door at nine thirty.
“So what? I have a headache from that screen,” Namjoon griped.
Ignoring Namjoon’s bout of spite, Seokjin persisted. “Did you finish the song?”
Namjoon fell against the back of the couch, massaging at his temples. “Yes, and I never want to produce again,” he groaned.
“Oh Namjoon, quit being dramatic. You know you love what you do, and I do too. So does all of Violet, the entire company, and every Plum across the world.” Seokjin sat next to Namjoon on the brown couch.
“The three people in Korea that support Violet, you mean?” Namjoon leaned back and threw his arm over his eyes.
“Have you seen Tick-Tock? It’s blowing up. It has almost a million views and there are tons of English comments. I couldn’t even begin to tell you what they mean, but you probably could.”
Namjoon shot up and stared at Seokjin, bewildered. Tick-Tock was released almost seven months ago and it already had almost a million views? He must be losing his mind. He pulled out his phone and opened YouTube, searching for Violet’s latest song.
Seokjin was right. The view counter read 843,036. He scrolled down to the comment section.
Kpoplyfe: whos that guy at 1:14? Such a hottie!!
SuJu Fan1: SY, or Youngsoo. He’s not even my bias and I agree!
Marshmallow: @ 2:35 Daddy
Namjoon skipped to that moment of the song to find Violet’s own Minjun rapping out a verse in front of a clock that was cast against the wall.
“Alright, that’s enough internet for one day,” Namjoon said quickly and shut his phone off.
“What did it say?” Seokjin looked over at Namjoon’s phone, shirt grazing Namjoon’s shoulder.
Namjoon shook his head.
That was the end of that conversation.
“Dinner is on the stove still. I just finished it a bit ago.” Seokjin motioned to the kitchen. Namjoon stood before feeling a tug on his wrist. “Don’t go.”
“Okay, Bongchol,” Namjoon joked. He sat back down. Seokjin pulled Namjoon’s head down to his shoulder. Namjoon was confused, but he went along with it. Seokjin raked his hand along the side of Namjoon’s face, who responded with a smile. Namjoon may look tough, but secretly, he’s a sucker for affection.
The pair sat quietly for several minutes, Seokjin gently stroking Namjoon’s face. Namjoon’s eyes were beginning to drift closed when Seokjin’s voice cracked the silence open.
“Joonie?” His hand stopped moving and rested at Namjoon’s cheek.
Namjoon hummed in response.
“Be my boyfriend?” Seokjin’s voice rose at the end of the phrase, indicating it was more of a question than the command Namjoon expected. Was he unsure of himself? He has to know how utterly in love Namjoon is.
Namjoon thought for a moment. He was expecting something bigger, more grand and extravagant. Something like Seokjin himself. Roses, fireworks, a bear on a trike or something wild and out there. Even a fortune cookie with the request instead of a fortune would have been cute.
Namjoon thought again. In that moment with Seokjin, he would have preferred nothing else. It was just them, Namjoon leaning his head on Seokjin’s broad shoulder. Something spectacular didn’t fit with that instance. It just felt right.
“Only if you be my boyfriend too,” Namjoon said, trying to sound suave instead of on edge.
“I think we have a deal, Namjoon.”
“Guess what yall” delivered 9:46 p.m.
New message from Musical Hoes: Prince Yoongi
“Remind me why I’m in this group chat when I have work to do?” delivered 9:50 p.m.
“Hoseok is probably asleep, Jimin is probably partying, and I’m working. What do you want?”
“I figured h o s e o k would want to know that I’m now dating a certain ‘little chef’” delivered 9:51 p.m.
New message from Musical Hoes: Hoseok hyung
“biiiiiiich i knew it!” delivered 9:53 p.m.
New message from Musical Hoes: Prince Yoongi
“Congrats. My best wishes. I’m muting this. Matter isn’t going to write itself.” delivered 9:54 p.m.
New message from Musical Hoes: Jiminnie
“NAMjOON@ CONGRATLUATIONS!!! I KNEWO YOUD GET SOME D EVENTUALLYL!!” delivered 9:56 p.m.
Jimin’s text was punctuated by several emojis. He was probably drunk beyond belief, despite it being so early in the night.
“Who are you texting?” Seokjin asked, popping up behind Namjoon in the bed. He looked over his shoulder to see a slew of emojis. “‘Musical Hoes’?”
“Yeah, it’s just the group chat between Yoongi, Jimin, Hoseok, and I. We typically talk about company life or updates on songs or dance moves and the like.”
“Why is he Prince Yoongi?”
“His girlfriend came over one day while I was in his studio and she didn’t know I was in with him. Apparently, Prince is a nickname of his.”
“Cute. Although, I always saw him more as ‘Tyrant Yoongi’.” Seokjin and Namjoon shared a snicker.
“Put your phone up. Let’s go to bed, boyfriend.” Seokjin fell on his back and yanked the blankets up around his neck, exposing their feet. Namjoon blushed at the name and laid down with Seokjin. Seokjin adjusted the blankets so that it covered most of their torsos and turned to face Namjoon. He blinked slowly. “Goodnight, Joonie.”
Seokjin had closed his eyes, but Namjoon wanted him to stay up all night and do something together. He at least wanted one last kiss.
“Seokjin,” he hissed. Seokjin opened his eyes and looked at Namjoon questioningly. “I…” Namjoon started, but cut himself off. Instead, he leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on Seokjin’s lips before shrinking back. He smiled, pleased with himself. Seokjin shook his head and closed his eyes once more.
WHAT'S UP it's been over a month but my junior year is kicking my butt. Who wants to tutor me in Pre-Calc?? Also my birthday is tomorrow so sweet 16 to me ;) hope u enjoy
The next morning, Namjoon woke at a normal time. No nightmares and no late-night escapades. He turned to his side to find Seokjin snoozing peacefully. His lips were slightly parted as soft breaths left his mouth.
Namjoon propped himself up on his elbows and stared down at his new boyfriend.
Oh my god, he thought. I have a boyfriend.
After a solid minute of wide eyes, Seokjin stirred, startling Namjoon. He fell back down, effectively waking up Seokjin.
He hummed gently, eyes beginning to crack open. “Good morning, Namjoon.”
“Did I wake you up? I’m sorry,” Namjoon said, sitting back up.
Seokjin sat up as well. “No, it’s alright. It’s time to wake up anyways. I need to make breakfast for a certain someone.” He smiled at Namjoon then shifted the blankets off of his body. His foot touched the floor and he lifted himself up. “Come on, then. What do you want?”
In the kitchen, Namjoon fell back into a chair, wiping sleep from his eyes. Seokjin stood at the stove, a blank expression decorating his face.
“I’m not feeling inspired, Joon.” He sounded frustrated.
Namjoon stood and walked towards Seokjin. He wrapped his long arms around his middle and rested his chin on his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.
“Let’s stay home again,” Seokjin suggested. He rocked back against Namjoon.
“I can’t,” he whined. “I have to go to work. I’m not getting paid to hang out with you.”
“You’re not even getting paid.”
Namjoon snorted in an attempt to laugh. “One won is better than no won.”
“As if.” Seokjin twisted around to face Namjoon. He threw his arms around his neck and leaned against him. “I’m tired. Do you think I could stay out of work again? I get paid enough that it wouldn’t hurt us.”
Us . Was there an “us”? Sure, they were together, but were they really “us”? They had a plant and lived together for over a year, but that doesn’t necessarily constitute the use of the word. Or maybe Namjoon was just overreacting and Seokjin was just using the word in the casual sense. Namjoon’s heart went soaring into his throat all the same.
“I need to go to work because I know the boys, including Minjun, would be down my throat about missing two days so close together.”
Seokjin rolled his eyes and tightened his grip on Namjoon’s neck, pulling them closer in the middle of the kitchen. Almost level, Seokjin gazed into Namjoon’s eyes. Seokjin tilted his head and brought their lips together. He nipped gently at his boyfriend’s lower lip. Namjoon gasped quietly against Seokjin, who had just the right timing in slipping his tongue in. Namjoon lost his footing and fell against the counter behind him. Seokjin cornered him, bringing his body in close until they were nearly pressed against each other. Seokjin took his time exploring the younger man’s mouth. He seemed very experienced, which made Namjoon jealous. Had he done this with other guys? Other girls, maybe? Namjoon had nowhere near as much experience; his movements were clumsy and occasionally he knocked his teeth against Seokjin’s. Despite his inexperience, the moment was perfectly intimate in the middle of their shared kitchen.
Seokjin pulled back, lips slick. Their lips were still nearly touching, and his breath tickled Namjoon’s chin. “Still have to go to work?” Seokjin shot.
“And I thought you were the responsible one,” Namjoon panted. “You’re a bad influence on me.”
“Is that a yes?” He play pouted.
“I’m afraid so, Jinnie.”
Seokjin rolled his eyes again and snuck in one last kiss. “Better get ready.”
“What about breakfast?”
“I’ll make something eventually. Go doll yourself up.” Seokjin pushed at him until he raised his arms in defeat and sulked off.
In his room, Namjoon sunk into his bed and placed his hand to his lips, savoring the feeling.
“God, Kim Seokjin. You’ll be the death of me.”
“How’s your boyfriend?” Hoseok asked, stretched out on the couch in Namjoon’s studio. His stained white Converse were propped up on the armrest, something Namjoon didn’t appreciate. Hoseok was always disrespecting his property, even if the couch was given to him by Connect Entertainment. The two remained good friends, even when Hoseok was overbearing or rude.
“He’s lovely, thank you,” Namjoon responded.
“Wow, is that sass I detect?” Hoseok faked being taken aback by Namjoon’s attitude. He was used to Hoseok digging into his personal life, but that didn’t mean he liked it.
“You bet it is.” Namjoon plugged in his headphones and slipped them around his neck. “Don’t you have work to do today?”
“Mister Boyfriend certainly has an attitude today.” He play pouted. “Not until eleven I don’t.” Hoseok pulled out his phone. “It’s only 10:42 so I still have twenty minutes.” He replaced his phone in his pocket and closed his eyes. “Wake me up when I need to leave.”
“Wake up, it’s time to leave,” Namjoon deadpanned. Hoseok glared at his back then stood, stretching out his body. His back popped loudly and he groaned obscenely. Namjoon cringed at the sound.
Namjoon pulled his headphones up to his ears and set to work.
New message from Musical Hoes: Prince Yoongi
“Matter is finished.” delivered 12:35 p.m.
“Sick! Come here and let me read!!” delivered 12:37 p.m.
Namjoon pulled his headphones off his head and placed them on his desk. He waited patiently for Yoongi to enter his studio.
Soon after, Yoongi appeared. He knocked before walking in, nearly shuffling his feet.
“I brought the lyrics,” came his deep voice. It was slightly accented. “Let me know what you think.” He perched on the couch, crossing his legs. His black sweater swallowed his thin frame. Yoongi’s black jeans were cuffed, exposing a sliver of bony ankle.
The lyrics were dark, but Namjoon imagined they fit the instrumental perfectly.
“I like it, hyung. It’s deep and dark and moody and mysterious and-” Namjoon rambled on until Yoongi interjected.
“I know everything it is. I wrote it,” he offered with a sly smile.
“Of course! Duh.” Namjoon slapped himself on the forehead and grinned. “Thank you, Yoongi hyung. I appreciate your work. We wouldn’t be a company without our lyricist.”
“Don’t get sappy on me, Namjoon-ah.”
“Sorry, sorry!” Namjoon held up his hands. “Don’t hit me!”
Yoongi rolled his eyes. “How’s the B-Side coming?”
“We’ve finished it. I just need one more track and then the mini-album will be done. Have any more lyrics for me?”
“I have bits and pieces if that helps.” Yoongi shrugged.
“I’ll take what I can get.” Namjoon sighed.
With that, Yoongi began to dig in his pockets for scrap sheets of paper, folded into oblivion. Each note carried words scribbled and faded into the various papers. Some were regular line sheets. Others were pink stationary scraps, grid paper, and Namjoon thought he saw part of a napkin in Yoongi’s palms.
“Here we are. There should be enough for you to get an idea of what to compose now.”
“Oh, wow… Thank you. I guess,” he muttered under his breath. Yoongi handed over the bits and pieces and Namjoon accepted them with open hands.
After Yoongi left, Namjoon began to look over the lyrics Yoongi had given him. The words varied greatly, some deeper than others. One, in particular, caught his eye. A melody bloomed in his mind; something retro and vintage. More in the style of American pop. He could already hear the notes chiming in his head. They were light and upbeat, more so than the B-Side. It was cheery, something you could dance to in the middle of the street at noon during springtime.
“One Way” is what he called it.
Minjun popped into his office as Namjoon was preparing to leave.
“What’s up?” Namjoon asked as he shoved the lyrics into his laptop bag.
“Just checking in. How’s producing?” Minjun invited himself in and sat himself on the couch.
“It’s going well. I’ve got an idea for the final song of the album. You guys better start taking photo card pictures soon, because I am on fire.” Namjoon cracked his knuckles and smiled at Minjun.
“Oh really? Can I help?” Minjun leaned forward, excited.
“Not this time, Minjun-ah. Manager only approved you to produce on one track this time.”
“But who knows when we’ll have our next comeback! We may even disband before then!” Minjun shouted angrily. He exhaled, calming himself. “Sorry, I’m just frustrated. We’re barely popular enough to not disband and we still haven’t gotten our first win after years.” Minjun huffed and crossed his arms.
“Some groups are just like that, Minjun-ah,” Namjoon responded with a hand resting on the younger’s shoulder.
Minjun sighed. “Are you leaving?” Namjoon nodded. “I just want to say thank you for letting me produce with you. It really was an honor.” Minjun walked forward and surprised Namjoon by wrapping his arms around the producer. At a whopping five feet seven inches, he was significantly shorter than his hyung.
“Oh, uh, you’re welcome, Minjun.”
With a squeeze, Minjun released Namjoon and blushed profusely. “See you tomorrow, hyung.” He scuttled out of the room, leaving Namjoon shaking his head and smiling.
The fans are right about Minjun being cute.
“Seokjin!” Namjoon hollered into the apartment as the door closed behind him.
“In here!” Seokjin called back. The voice came from his room, which was the farthest from the entrance. Namjoon near sprinted in and dove on the bed, throwing his head in Seokjin’s lap. His body jolted in surprise and he nearly dropped his phone on Namjoon’s head.
“Namjoon-ah you scared me!” He held his hand to his chest and let out a breath.
“Don’t care,” the younger replied while getting comfortable in his boyfriend’s lap.
Seokjin rolled his eyes. “You’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days,” he scolded.
Namjoon nuzzled his face into Seokjin’s inner thigh and grinned. “I think it’s bedtime.”
“Namjoon, it’s only seven thirty.”
“Yeah, but I’m tired.”
“Go get changed, then.”
Namjoon hopped up and rushed into his room and pulled his shirt over his head and yanked off his pants. He hopped over to his dresser and grabbed at his new pair of pajama pants. He returned to Seokjin’s room a minute later and crawled onto the bed by his side.
“You haven’t even had dinner yet,” Seokjin
Namjoon rolled over, burying his face in the pillow. “Make me dinner,” he said, voice muffled.
“How spoiled,” Seokjin answered with a grin. His hand came down on Namjoon’s behind jokingly. He twitched and jerked up.
“Please, hyung?” Namjoon whined.
Seokjin rolled his eyes and stood.
By the time Seokjin returned, Namjoon was half-asleep, mouth agape and quiet breaths falling out every few seconds. He set both plates of rice and vegetables on his nightstand. He sat himself down on his bed and placed his hand on Namjoon’s back. He rubbed gently. “Namjoon-ah,” he whispered. He continued to rub gently until Namjoon’s eyes fluttered open.
“Hi.” He spoke quietly, sleep invading his voice.
“Enjoy your little nap?” Seokjin kept his hand on the younger’s back until he rolled over.
Namjoon rubbed at his eyes and nodded, still not fully awake.
“I brought dinner. Sit up and eat, please.”
Namjoon did as he was told and accepted the plate with a quiet “thank you”. He held the plate with one hand and slowly forked scoops of rice into his mouth with the other. Seokjin watched endearingly out of the corner of his eye and chewed on a broccoli head thoughtfully.
Mouthful of partially chewed up food, Namjoon felt a pair of eyes on him. He gulped down what was in his mouth and glanced at Seokjin who, at this point, was blatantly staring at him. He smiled sheepishly; a grain of rice was stuck between his front teeth.
“Joon, ah, you have something in between your teeth,” Seokjin pointed out. Namjoon covered his mouth and turned away to pick it out. When Namjoon faced his boyfriend once more, he smiled. “All better.”
“Why’re you staring at me?” Namjoon blurted out.
“You’re beautiful, Namjoon-ah,” he answered without a hint of hesitation.
Namjoon blushed and sputtered for a moment before responding. “Thank you, hyung.”
“Hurry up and finish eating so I can kiss you again,” Seokjin demanded light-heartedly.
“Who says we have to finish eating for that to happen?” Namjoon asked, already setting his plate down.
“Smart boy,” Seokjin commented.
Namjoon’s stomach tumbled as scooted almost into the older man’s lap.
“Can’t believe I’m going to kiss the most gorgeous man.” Seokjin sounded almost giddy while still retaining his composure.
“Why are you kissing yourself?” Namjoon shot back, sounding surer of himself than he actually was.
Seokjin pushed his fingers into Namjoon’s hair, pulling the younger towards himself. Namjoon felt like puddy in his hands. In that moment, he would have considered doing anything for Seokjin. He felt heat pooling in his stomach as love swelled up in his entire being. He really, truly, entirely loved Seokjin.
Seokjin pulled off with a pop and exhaled before attacking Namjoon’s jawline with an array of kisses that sent shivers down his spine. He tilted his head back, exposing his neck for Seokjin to work on. Before long, Seokjin moved back up to the younger man’s mouth and sucking his lower lip into his mouth. Seokjin was so experienced that it blew Namjoon out of the water. Whenever they kissed, Namjoon would let Seokjin do most of the work while he sat there, awestruck.
Namjoon pulled away and panted. He rested his head on Seokjin’s chest, breathing heavily. Seokjin pet the back of Namjoon’s head gently.
“That was good,” the elder murmured. “It’s time to finish your food, though.” With one last sweep of his hand down Namjoon’s mousy brown hair, he pulled him off and reached for his plate. Namjoon pouted and reluctantly grabbed his own plate and shoveled a forkful of his food into his swollen mouth. Seokjin grinned endearingly through his mouthful of food.
Half an hour later, the pair had finished their food. The plates now sat, abandoned, on the nightstand as they absentmindedly watched a drama playing on the television.
Namjoon, nearly half asleep, had his cheek pressed into Seokjin’s firm chest and his hands splayed somewhere behind his back. Occasionally, a hand would card through his messy hair. Fingernails would scrape lightly at his scalp, which had Namjoon keening into the touch.
To make a long story short, Namjoon was whipped.
Namjoon was in love.
“Are you asleep, Joonie?” Seokjin croaked.
Namjoon attempted to shake his head, rubbing his cheek into the older man’s pec.
“Are you tired, Namjoon?”
“Do you just want to sleep like this?” Seokjin joked.
“Joon, I was just kidding. You’re going to hurt your neck doing this,” he reasoned. “It’s cute and all, but I’m more concerned for your well-being.”
“Okay, mom,” he muttered, turning on his back to stare up at his hyung.
Seokjin rolled his eyes and pulled a blanket over himself, effectively covering Namjoon as well. He scoffed and shot out from the blanket and into Seokjin’s face. He feigned hurt and pouted. Turning to his side, he grinned to himself. Seokjin grabbed him by his waist and pulled him in until their bodies slotted together. He nosed at the younger boy’s neck and kissed it gently. Namjoon let out a monstrous yawn, then covered his mouth in embarrassment.
“I’m not cute,” Namjoon murmured against his hand.
“Sure.” Seokjin pulled away for a second to turn off the light, but he was back before Namjoon could protest. “Goodnight, Joonie.”
His eyes were only open for a few minutes more when he felt sleep pull at his consciousness. His eyes fluttered slightly before he could no longer keep them open. There was a dull ache behind them that was only satisfied when his eyes clamped shut. He moved around, pressing his body further into Seokjin’s until he felt truly at peace. He exhaled happily, then fell asleep with a smile stuck to his f ace like one of Seokjin’s pink post-it notes.
Several weeks later, Namjoon awoke to hot breath on his neck. He smiled and shifted, causing a pair of lips to attach to his neck. The plump set moved from spot to spot, covering Namjoon’s throat with little kisses. His heart fluttered.
I love you, breathed his mind.
He beat that thought back with a stick.
It had been a while since they started dating. Namjoon wasn’t expecting Seokjin to come right out and confess his undying love for him, but a little confirmation would be nice. He knew Seokjin liked him; from the kisses to the bath he drew for Namjoon the other night, it seemed that Seokjin was smitten with the younger man. Somehow, Namjoon doubted himself. After all, this was maybe his second relationship. He wasn’t the most confident, but if there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that he was neck deep in love.
The kisses continued until one turned into a small nibble at the base of his neck. Namjoon was almost in a trance, but was soon snapped out of it. He gasped, surprised but certainly not upset. He was lapping up the attention.
Seokjin went lower until he was at the soft skin that joined his neck with his shoulder. He sunk his teeth in gently and sent shivers down the younger’s spine. Namjoon let out a breath from behind his clenched teeth, followed by a content sigh. Seokjin kissed the fading mark, almost like a silent apology.
His lips were gone from his neck, but lingered only an inch away. “Good morning.”
“Morning, Jinnie,” Namjoon returned.
Brown eyes sparkled before him. Pretty, almond eyes. Coffee with sugar. He could drown in his eyes and he wouldn’t mind it in the slightest.
“I don’t want to go to work today, Namjoon-ah,” Seokjin murmured, pressing his lips to Namjoon’s neck again.
“Me neither. We’re so close to releasing First Draft, though.” Namjoon pouted.
“You better get to work. I’m ready for those albums.”
Namjoon snorted. “Add them to the shrine.”
It wasn’t a shrine per se, but it was close. There weren’t candles, but in the corner of Seokjin’s room sat his collection of Violet albums. Or at least one of each of them and all the photocards splayed out in front of their corresponding album. The rest were stacked neatly in his closet above his clothes.
Seokjin chuckled. “Breakfast time?”
When Namjoon arrived at the studio, Violet was gathered in the hallway. Ko Minjun was missing from the group; it was obvious because there was a lack of royal purple hair in the group. Bongchol now sported a sandy blond crop of hair that he complained about. He claimed it was too light for his illustrious melanin-filled skin. Youngsoo, as the member who mostly had black hair, grumbled about the pair being lucky. For Matter, he still wore his hair black, but certainly not by choice. Kwangmi and Jinsoo both carried shades of brown in their hair.
“Namjoon!” Kwangmi shouted. He was the first to see the eldest man enter the building.
“Look at this!” Jinsoo squawked. A magazine was clamped in his hands. “Up and Coming Stars” read the title.
“It’s all about us!” cried Bongchol with more than a hint of zealous joy evident in his voice.
“Well, some of it,” Youngsoo corrected. “The article mentioned us and called us-”
“The next big thing!” Bongchol interjected with glee.
“Something like that,” added Youngsoo.
“That’s great, guys. Can I read it?” Namjoon asked politely.
As Namjoon skimmed the article, the boys chattered on.
“When we’re famous, we can sign our section and sell it!” Bongchol shouted above the din.
“ If we’re famous,” someone, probably Youngsoo, muttered.
“ Rookie boy group Violet has been making quite a splash in the Kpop community, ” read one sentence. The rest of the article went on to describe how Violet has garnered the attention of a few critics that have reviewed their music surprisingly well. Tick-Tock had “blown up” after all. “ With rising view counts, Violet could be the next big thing. ”
Suddenly, a shout breaks through the not-so-quiet speaking, followed by silence.
It takes a few moments for someone to break the eerie quiet that envelops them.
“What was that?” Kwangmi piped up.
“Sounded bad. Let’s investigate,” suggested Bongchol.
Namjoon walks ahead of the group. What sounds like muffled crying calls them into the practice room. Minjun is tucked into a ball on the floor in front of the mirror, deep purple hair peeking out from behind his knees.
“Minjun?” Namjoon asked, incredulous. It was as if it could have been someone else with purple hair in the building.
He sniffled, then lifts his head. His upper lip was coated in blood.
“Oh, shit,” muttered Jinsoo. Namjoon had half a mind to smack the maknae, but he figured it wasn’t appropriate.
“What happened?” Youngsoo spat.
Kwangmi was already on his knees beside the rapper, an arm tucked behind his frame.
“Is it bad? It feels bad,” Minjun sputtered.
“Someone get me tissues,” Kwangmi ordered, which sent Bongchol running in the direction of the bathroom. He turned back to Minjun, who had tears trekking down his face. “Does it hurt when I do this?” He placed a finger on the bridge of his nose and pushed gently. Minjun shook his head, so Kwangmi moved his finger down a bit. The contact alone had Minjun wincing and scooting away. Kwangmi followed him as Bongchol sped into the room and practically tossed the paper towels at the pair on the floor. Minjun blushed heavily as the older boy held up the towels to absorb the blood. “What happened, Minjunnie?” He whispered. He rubbed his free hand up and down his back soothingly.
“I was trying to-to dance, ‘nd I tripped and fell,” he stuttered.
Kwangmi cooed over him before Namjoon suggested they take him to the doctor to check out his nose. Kwangmi immediately volunteered to go with him. Violet’s main manager had entered the room at that point. He insisted the boys stay and finish their day, and he would go with Minjun.
Kwangmi pouted for the rest of the day.
After the incident, Namjoon hid in his producing hole. His concentration was interrupted when a soft knock came at his door. He pulled his headphones down and offered a “come in” to the stranger behind the door. Kwangmi entered.
He let out a deep sigh. “Hi, hyung.”
“Hey, Kwangmi. What’s troubling your mind?” Namjoon answered.
“How could you tell?” He sounded astonished.
“Just the way you casually sighed and the dejected tone of your voice,” he observed. He turned around in his chair to face the younger boy, who was now sitting on his couch.
“I’m worried about Minjun,” he released. He exhaled loudly.
“You really care about him, don’t you?”
He nodded frantically. “More than anything.”
Namjoon chuckled. “Well, I’m sure he’ll be fine. He just needs some time to heal, that’s all.”
“Speaking from an idol standpoint, what would happen if his nose didn’t heal?”
“What, are you worried you won’t have a pretty face to look at anymore?” Kwangmi blushed and crossed his arms. “I’m kidding. He’ll be fine. Even if there’s a bump or a twist, it’ll just be something your teenage girls will fawn over.”
“Teenage girls,” he scoffed, sounding unimpressed.
“You’re a teenage boy,” Namjoon shot back.
“I’m 19. Besides, I’m just not interested in girls like everyone else is.” He sighed, looking forlorn.
“Are you gay?” The older man questioned, genuinely curious.
Suddenly, Kwangmi’s eyes bulged out of their sockets, almost comically. “Oh hyung, please don’t tell anybody,” he pleaded, sounding near delirious. “Just forget I said anything, okay?”
“Kwangmi,” he cut him off, “relax. I’m not going to tell anyone. I know how scary it is to be gay in Korea. You know I’m dating my roommate, right?”
Kwangmi looked at Namjoon. “I thought Hoseok was kidding when he said you liked him.”
He shook his head. “How long have you known?”
“Weren’t you like 16?”
“I was old enough to know,” he fired back.
“No need to get defensive. We’re in this together.”
Kwangmi breathed out. “Right. What about you?”
“I remember it like it was yesterday…”
His first day of ninth grade. He was so excited to be starting high school at last. He walked into class with his books in his hands and sat in his seat, waiting patiently for the rest of the students and the teacher to file in. He waited quietly until a boy walked in.
“Hi,” he spoke. His voice was quiet and squeaky, but young Namjoon found it adorable.
“Oh, hi!” Namjoon sounded maybe a little too enthusiastic.
The boy giggled behind his hand. “My name is uh Hakyeon.” Namjoon wondered why he sounded so unsure of something so simple as his own name. “I’m new here.”
“I’m Namjoon. It’s nice to meet you.”
Hakyeon sat next to the young boy and placed his books on the desk in front of him.
The boys talked until the bell rang and the disgruntled-looking teacher entered.
That night, Namjoon lay in his bed, thinking of Hakyeon. He was cute. Very cute.
It would be nice to kiss him, he thought.
That night, he had a dream of him and Hakyeon that left him uncomfortable. At first, the pair shared a chaste kiss that lent itself to them having a more passionate moment. Namjoon awoke panting.
“So what happened between you two?” Kwangmi wondered, enthralled with the story.
“Well…” Namjoon thought back to young Hakyeon. “We were friends for several years. We even started a band together. He was the lead singer,” the producer reminisced. “One day, his mom caught us kissing. He got pulled out of school and moved across the country.” He frowned, lines creasing his face.
“Oh, hyung I’m sorry,” Kwangmi apologized, although it wasn’t necessary.
Namjoon smiled sadly. “I still miss him sometimes, but I’ll never tell Seokjin that.”
“He doesn’t need to know,” Namjoon answered quickly. The truth was, he was afraid how Seokjin would judge him for knowing so soon.
Kwangmi blinked. “Huh.”
“Shouldn’t you be in practice?”
“I told Jimin I had to go to the bathroom, but I couldn’t think about singing without thinking of poor Minjun…” he trailed off.
Suddenly, two and two combined in Namjoon’s head. “You like him don’t you?”
Kwangmi didn’t answer. He hung his head.
“Tick-Tock,” came the sullen response.
Wow, Namjoon mused in his head. Eight months is a long time to have feelings festering inside of him. “Maybe you should go back to practice before Jimin get suspicious. I’m here if you need me.”
“Thank you, hyung.” Kwangmi stood and bowed his head respectfully. With a final smile tossed over his shoulder, he strolled out of the room and into the hall, hopefully heading to the practice room.
Namjoon smiled fondly and returned to his work.
Minjun returned later that day with gauze stuffed up his nose. Kwangmi volunteered to watch over him at the dorms, but again, Manager crushed his dreams. He insisted that he stay to finish vocal practice. After making a quick appearance at the studio and having Kwangmi fawn over him, he left the building to head to the dorm.
Manager assured the group members Minjun would be alright; he just needed time to rest and recuperate. The boys agreed, Kwangmi hesitantly so, and went back to vocal practice.
Hoseok was in the process of building the choreography for the B-Side After the routine was polished and approved of, the comeback process would be closer to being completed.
The boys had a while to go before they could officially announce their comeback. However, Minjun had already spoiled the surprise on multiple occasions.
One of the last major thing to do was to record the rest of the songs. Matter had already been recorded; the boys were practicing the choreography already. Namjoon had finished producing the tracks, so now, he had no real reason to show up. He still did, of course, to show support and to watch dance practice when Hoseok would allow him. It was always fun to watch the boys.
Today, however, the boys seemed sluggish and unmotivated. Kwangmi stumbled over Jinsoo’s boot and fell.
“Up,” Hoseok snapped. He was typically nice and light-hearted, but when it came to dance, he was very serious and could even come off as rude or pushy. “We don’t have all day.”
Jinsoo extended a hang. Kwangmi took it and stood, brushing off his knees like the floor was dusty.
“Yeah, sorry,” he offered. “I’ll do better.” He cast a worried glance at Namjoon, who sat on the floor in the back corner of the room. Namjoon nodded reassuringly.
Only minutes later, Youngsoo tripped over his own feet. He landed square on his behind.
Hoseok stomped to the stereo and jammed his thumb in the pause button.
“What the hell guys?” A storm brewed in his eyes. “I expect Violet, rising stars, not a bunch of trainees!”
Namjoon shot up from his seat and leaped up to where Hoseok stood, fuming, at the front of the room. He placed a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down. Hoseok slapped his hand away and continued to glare at the boys of Violet.
“Hoseok,” he hissed. “They’ve had a rough day and you know that. They’re all upset about Minjun. Even if Minjun wasn’t down, you can’t expect them to be perfect. There will be stumbles and you should know that better than anyone.” Hoseok huffed. He crossed his arms, toeing at the scuffed floor. “What? Are you trying to tell me you’ve never fallen or tripped or taken a hit while dancing? Are you Mister Perfect now?”
“Namjoon,” he said sharply. “Enough.”
“All I’m saying is,” he exhaled a breath, “give them some slack every now and then.” Namjoon’s tone had softened from the fire he was spitting mere moments before. “Everyone makes mistakes.”
Hoseok cleared his throat. “Alright. Let’s get back to work.”
Fifteen minutes after practice was over, the boys were showering and Namjoon was preparing to leave. Youngsoo approached him, hair freshly damp.
“Hi, hyung. I want to say thank you for sticking up for us back in practice. Hoseok hyung can be scary when we mess up. Typically he’s more understanding. I don’t know what set him off today.”
“It’s fine, Youngsoo. Maybe he was just frustrated that he was down a man,” Namjoon suggested.
“Yeah, it may be. Thank you, again. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, turning to walk off in the direction of the door.
Namjoon shook his head with a smile.
At seven thirty in the evening, Namjoon pulled his keys out of his back pocket and fumbled with them briefly. After righting himself, he pushed the key in and twisted them in the lock. The door swung open and Namjoon stepped in to their apartment. As he toed his shoes off at the entrance, the bathroom door opened. Seokjin stepped out with a towel spun around his head. Namjoon wouldn’t have been bothered by the sight if Seokjin had another towel wrapped around his waist. He gasped loudly and immediately turned, face turning a vibrant red.
“Oh!” Seokjin crowed. “Namjoon don’t be shy, it’s just me. It’s just my body.”
Namjoon’s cheeks bulged like a frog; he exhaled. He turned back around to find that Seokjin had his towel wrapped around his waist.
“Aw, you’re blushing!” The elder cooed.
“Stop, hyung,” he demanded half-heartedly demanded. He rubbed at his face in an attempt to erase the blush from his cheeks. Namjoon stared at the floor.
“It’s almost Christmas, you know,” Seokjin commented offhandedly.
“Yeah. We have our tree set up.”
Seokjin nodded and slunk into his room. Namjoon blinked, unsure of what just happened. Instead of pondering it too much, he entered his room as well.
Since that first night he fell asleep on the couch and woke up in Seokjin’s bed, his room wasn’t really of much use to him; he was rarely in there. The only time he found himself in his room was to change. Sure, he loved Seokjin, but he wasn’t necessarily comfortable with showing off his body quite yet. Seeing as how Seokjin had dressed him before, it was clear to him that he didn’t really care.
He emerged in a pair of new pajama pants and a simple white t-shirt. He crept into Seokjin’s room, hoping that he was dressed this time.
His wish only came partially true; a shirt was stretched across Seokjin’s broad back and a pair of boxers clung to his thighs.
“I’m not feeling pants tonight. Is that okay with you?” Seokjin cocked his head.
“Uhm…” he trailed off and stared at his socked feet. “Yeah… sure.”
A pair of feet joined his own in his sight.
“Look at me,” he whispered. When Namjoon didn’t comply, Seokjin placed two fingers under the younger man’s chin and lifted gently. “You can tell me if you’re uncomfortable.”
“‘M not,” he murmured in response. He averted his gaze to Seokjin’s arm as he shifted his weight from one foot to another.
Seokjin nodded and released his chin. “Let’s go to bed, shall we?”
So. It's been a week. Bet you're hoping for an update? Sorry to disappoint. The thing is, I'm feeling so uninspired lately. I don't know what to write or where to go next on this story. I'm really sorry. If you would like, comment any ideas you have, moments you would like to see, or encouraging thoughts if you're not the creative type.
(Still open to Violet fan fiction ;) )