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Heads up, people. Our resident party animal, Kim Seokjin, is at it again. He was seen at a college party last night, super drunk and in Jung Dawon’s lacy pink lingerie. Are Dawon and Seokjin together? Is Seokjin a creep who steals girls’ underwear? You tell me.

   Xoxo Gossip Girl

Namjoon tapped his pencil on his desk absentmindedly as he stared at the back of Seokjin’s head. Most of the senior guys were cute, but Seokjin was so beautiful, it was unfair. His lips were full and soft looking and Namjoon often found himself having weird thoughts that his eyebrows were sexy. Not that he’d mention the eyebrow thing to anyone. He once told Taehyung about how he liked Seokjin’s new red converse, and Gossip Girl had soon after published a piece about how Namjoon had a foot fetish. He had learned his lesson after that.

Not only did Seokjin have a nice face, but he also played the guitar, acted well, and had beautifully wide shoulders - shoulders that Namjoon wanted to dig his nails into as Seokjin fucked him into a desk. He even looked good in tights. He was in the drama club with Taehyung and Namjoon had gone to see everything they had done, including their production of Romeo and Juliet. Call him kinky, but he wanted Seokjin to fuck him in his costume.

If he was being honest with himself, he just wanted Seokjin to fuck him.

"Namjoon," said Mr. Choi, "Pay attention. Stop tapping your pencil. You'll need this for the test."

"Sorry Mr. Choi," he said, turning red as Seokjin turned around in his seat to glance at him. Fucking Mr. Choi. It was embarrassing how he always called him out for not paying attention. It’s not like he needed to anyway; he already knew everything they learned in class. He huffed in annoyance. He hadn’t meant for anyone to hear, but Seokjin did and turned around to look at him again. He smiled encouragingly, and Namjoon smiled back, melting into a puddle. Here came another embarrassing thought about Seokjin: he’d willingly dress in Hoseok’s sister’s lacy pink underwear to keep Seokjin smiling at him.

That thought went into his mental file of things to keep to himself.

When the object of his affections turned back around, Namjoon realized that he was still smiling, and completely unable to stop.


When class ended, Namjoon packed up his stuff while gnawing the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from grinning like an idiot. When he finished shoving everything into his backpack, he looked up and caught Seokjin’s eye. In typical Namjoon fashion, he freaked out and bolted for the door, cursing himself all the way to his friends' favorite coffee shop, ORUL8,2?

When he got there, he plopped into a seat next to Yoongi, panting and clutching a stitch in his side.

Fuck, he really needed to get in shape.

“Why are you so winded?” asked Taehyung, “Did you run all the way here?”

“Yeah,” said Namjoon, still trying to catch his breath.

“Why the hell would you do that?” asked Yoongi, “Walk like a normal person. It’s much less work.”

“I was running away from Seokjin,” explained Namjoon, blushing.

“Why?” asked Yoongi, amused, “He didn’t steal your sister’s underwear too?”

“I made eye contact with him and he smiled at me! So I freaked out, and I ran.”

“Hyung, that’s not how you get laid,” chided Taehyung.

“I was nervous! And you're asexual, so what the fuck do you know?”

"I could get laid if I wanted to!" screamed Taehyung, causing several people to stare in their direction.

“I don’t understand why you like that guy," grumbled Yoongi, “All he does is get drunk and party.”

“He’s hot though,” observed Taehyung, “That counts for something.”

“You’ve never even talked to him!” protested Namjoon.

“Neither have you!” exclaimed Yoongi.

“Hyung, you can’t just hate people without having good reason to.”

“Who does he hate?” asked a familiar voice from behind Namjoon, who swung around in his seat to look for the source of the voice and accidentally knocked over Yoongi’s Americano in the process.

“Motherfucker!” cursed Yoongi.

Seokjin giggled as Namjoon nearly bowled him over in his rush to get napkins, apologizing profusely the whole time. When Namjoon got back, Seokjin was sitting on his side of the booth across from Taehyung. For a moment, he debated the pros and cons of continuing to stand before he decided that it was better, and less weird, for him to sit down. He did so, still clutching the wad of napkins tightly in his fist. People were staring at them again; it wasn’t a common sight to see Kim Seokjin, a CEO’s rich, hot son, sitting with the school queers.

“Can you give me the fucking napkins?” said Yoongi, when Namjoon still hadn’t let go of them.

“Sorry hyung,” said Namjoon. He handed them over.

There was an awkward silence as Yoongi wiped up the spilled coffee on the table.

“So, sunbaenim, how did you end up in Dawon noona’s underwear at that college party? asked Yoongi.

“Fucking hell, hyung--”

“Shut up Namjoon. Come on, give us details.”

“First of all, you can all call me hyung,” said Seokjin, “There’s not much to it. I got drunk and someone put me in a bra,” explained Seokjin, “I didn’t even know who it belonged to until Gossip Girl posted about it this morning.”

“So like, are you two fucking?”

“Taehyung!” hissed Namjoon.

“We’re not. Hoseok would kill me. By the way, I came here to talk to Namjoon.”

Taehyung waggled his eyebrows from behind his latte. In Namjoon’s humble opinion, he was asking for a punch in the teeth.

“What do you need, hyung?” asked Namjoon, trying not to grimace.

“I need a tutor. Mr. Choi always gives you a lot of shit for not paying attention in class, but you always do well on tests. I see all those 100s you get; I have to pass them back to you. And I’m terrible at math, so I’m asking you to tutor me.”

“Why don’t you hire an actual tutor?” asked Taehyung, “How do we know you’re not luring Namjoon-hyung to his inevitable demise?”

Namjoon really loved Taehyung, he really did. But right now he kind of wanted him to shut up. This was his chance!

"Every tutor my parents have paid for before didn’t work out,” said Seokjin, shrugging, “Maybe I’m just stupid, but I think they all sucked.”

“I’d be glad to tutor you!” said Namjoon. He cringed at his own excitement. It was all too evident how badly he wanted the chance to spend time with Seokjin.

“Thanks so much! I was hoping we could start this afternoon. If that’s not an issue?”

Namjoon had a lot of homework that day, and he should’ve postponed, but his mouth betrayed him by agreeing.

“Yeah. I can totally do that.”

“Okay,” said Seokjin, “Let’s go.”


“Unless that’s a problem?”

“No, of course not. Let’s go,” said Namjoon.

With great difficulty, he fought the urge to scream and jump around and said goodbye to his friends. He followed Seokjin out of the cafe, ignoring Yoongi pouting behind him.

The boys’ walk to Seokjin’s house was quiet at first, mostly because Namjoon couldn’t think of anything to say. Okay, that was a lie. He had plenty of things to say, but all of them were along the lines of can I pretty please suck your dick? and I want you to raise my children .

So Namjoon kept his mouth shut.

He kept on glancing at Seokjin and making eye contact with him, which got increasingly awkward the more it happened, so he forced himself to stare at the road in front of him.


He nearly tripped, but luckily he stayed on his feet.

“Sorry,” said Seokjin, giggling, “I didn’t mean to distract you from walking. I couldn’t handle the silence anymore.”

“Sorry,” said Namjoon, blushing. He said nothing else.

“Do you like me?”

Namjoon nearly tripped again.

“What?” he asked, trying to sound incredulous, “Why would you think that? Ha!”

Seokjin’s face fell.

“Oh,” he said.

“No! I mean, I like you as a person! Just not— I mean, you’re not gay,” backtracked Namjoon.

Seokjin giggled. “Okay. I’m glad. Also, I am gay.” He suddenly stopped walking, then turned and gave Namjoon a strained smile. "I don't know why I said that. Please don't tell anyone."

“Oh. Sorry! I mean, I’m not sorry you’re gay, obviously. I have nothing against gay people. I’m gay. I won't tell anyone either. I know how to keep secrets.”

“And yet you couldn't keep your foot fetish away from Gossip Girl,” observed Seokjin.

Namjoon groaned. They were on the sidewalk in broad daylight, so there was nowhere for him to hide. Sheer embarrassment was flooding through his veins. He wanted to curl up into a ball and die. Okay, so he was being a little dramatic. He would settle for moving to Stockholm and never seeing Seokjin again. Although that wouldn't work, seeing as Seokjin was rich as fuck and probably had a vacation home there and everywhere else Namjoon could go.

“I swear to God, hyung. I do not have a shoe fetish.”

Seokjin burst into squeaky laughter.

“I know! It was just funny to see your face!” Still giggling, he reached out to pat a slightly pissed off Namjoon on the shoulder, “Don’t worry. Gossip Girl says things about everyone. I think most people at our school know that not everything she says is true, including me. Especially me."

Namjoon smiled awkwardly back at Seokjin. The boys fell back into silence until they got to his house. Seokjin pulled out a key and opened the door, calling out as the boys stepped inside.

“Sohee auntie, I’m home! I brought a friend too.”

Seokjin’s house smelled expensive, like its owner. Like they used 1 million won black cherry air freshener or something.

Not that Namjoon was sniffing him. He just smelled great, and Namjoon had a sensitive nose. At least, that was the excuse he was giving himself.

Sohee, who turned out to be Seokjin’s maid hurried to meet them at the door as she wiped her hands with a dish towel. After Namjoon introduced himself, Seokjin grabbed his hand and dragged him up the stairs to his room.

Sohee shouted up to them, “If you two want snacks, call me.”

Namjoon kind of did want snacks, but he was also freaking out about entering Seokjin’s room. He hadn’t mentally prepared himself for this possibility. He thought they would work on a desk downstairs, but no! Instead, they were working in Seokjin’s bedroom, where he probably had lots of steamy sex. Steamy . . . gay . . . sex. Wow. He panicked for a second, not sure whether Seokjin expected him to sit on his bed, with its sky blue bedsheets that would haunt Namjoon's dreams.

Where he probably jacks off , his brain supplied unhelpfully.

Namjoon wondered what type of porn Seokjin watched, remembered the Gossip Girl update from that morning, blushed, and told himself to stop picturing Seokjin in lingerie. Seokjin sat down at the desk on the other side of his room from his bed. Namjoon was relieved because there the thought of Seokjin jerking off wouldn't constantly distract him although he would still have his long-time fantasy of making out on a desk to reckon with.

There was no winning in this situation.

He sat down next to Seokjin, trying not to sit too close and make his crush on him obvious. They got to work. Namjoon was doing a fairly good job of not getting distracted, but occasionally he’d stare at a random freckle of Seokjin’s pretty face and promptly forget where he was and what he was doing.

“You’re a good teacher,” remarked Seokjin once they'd gotten through the math homework for that day.

Namjoon blushed.

“Thanks, hyung,” he said, “You’re a good student yourself. Um. . . I guess since we’re done. . .”

“You don’t have to go yet,” said Seokjin, placing his elbow on the table and his chin in his hand, “We should get to know each other.”

“How are we going to do that?” asked Namjoon, doing his best to stay calm.

“Tell me a secret,” said Seokjin.

“There's nothing to say,” lied Namjoon, “I mean, I’m pretty boring.”

“Come on,” said Seokjin, rolling his eyes, “Everyone has tea to spill,”

"Are you sure you aren't Gossip Girl?" joked Namjoon.

"Are you sure you aren't? Maybe you're asking me that because you're trying to get me to think you're Gossip Girl."

“Hyung, why would I bring up Gossip Girl if I was Gossip Girl?”

"I don't know," said Seokjin, "This whole thing is very circular. Tell you what, I’ll go first."

Seokjin leaned in close. Namjoon's eyes drifted downwards to Seokjin’s very soft-looking lips. He leaned in a little—

"There's a Mario shrine in my closet," said Seokjin.

Namjoon reeled backward and laughed, shocked. He paused as it sunk in.

"Wait, really?"

“Yes,” said Seokjin, his eyes sparkling, “Do you want to see it?”

He didn’t wait for an answer which was good because Namjoon was at a complete loss for words. He strode over to his closet doors and threw them open with a flourish.

Seokjin wasn’t joking when he said the words “Mario shrine.” The inside of his closet looked like Nintendo threw up in it. He had stacked several folded Mario blankets in front of the far wall, with more dolls stacked on them, presumably the ones that didn't fit on the shelves. Princess Peach and Luigi were guarding the whole thing, standing strong and proud on either side of the blanket tower.

"Look, the last vestiges of my childhood. You looked embarrassed about the shoe thing," said Seokjin, "so I thought I'd put us on level ground."

"You have a shrine," whispered Namjoon, "and you're showing it to me."

Somehow the fact that Seokjin had told him about something so embarrassing made Namjoon fall a little in love. That probably wasn’t the sane response to seeing a Mario shrine in a cute boy’s closet, but Namjoon had never been sane.

"I'm rich and handsome," said Seokjin, "I can get away with a lot. No matter what's in my closet, I'm still hot and the heir to a Fortune 500 company so it doesn't matter.”

It was amazing how fast he could go from sweet to full-of-himself.

“What’s your secret?” asked Seokjin as he closed the doors.

Namjoon tried to pick something that wasn’t embarrassing, but he found that difficult. Then again, Seokjin had just shown him his Mario shrine, so he didn’t need to worry much.

“I rap,” said Namjoon, which wasn't exactly a secret, but it would suffice. He tended to keep that to himself and his friends. He immediately wished he'd told Seokjin about his Ryan plushie collection instead. It would have been less embarrassing. 

“Yoongi hyung and I are in a crew with some of our friends,” he continued, unable to stop.

Seokjin’s eyes lit up.

“What? That’s cool! I thought you said you were boring. Rap something for me!”

Namjoon said “no” without his brain's input.

“Please,” said the older boy, pouting.

“Later,” said Namjoon.

“Fine,” said Seokjin, pouting.

God, he was so cute. Namjoon gave him what he wanted and rapped a verse of something Yoongi had written. He reckoned that it would hurt less if Seokjin didn't like it if Yoongi had written it and not him.

“Wow,” said Seokjin, “You swear a lot.”

“Thanks hyung. I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“No, you sound really cool!”

Namjoon thought he might faint.

Hey guys and gals. I'm here with some news of our favorite freshman fuckboy, Park Jimin. Rumor has it, he's been doing the geometry teacher, Mrs. Seun. Maybe she should teach chemistry.

Xoxo Gossip Girl  

"Jiminie!" yelled Hoseok as the freshman approached to sit with him and his friends, "Jiminie, I can't believe you slept with a teacher!" he scolded.

“Keep it down,” hissed Daejung, “People will hear.”

“Good game, bro,” said Jaeseong, high fiving Jimin.

“Gossip Girl gets things wrong sometimes,” said Jimin, annoyed, but reciprocating nonetheless.

“So you didn't fuck Mrs. Seun.”

“That's not what I said.”

Daejung banged his head on the table.

“Why did we let you into our group? Freshmen are ratchet."

"Hyung, Mrs. Seun's a fucking predator. What does that have to do with Jimin?" pointed out Hoseok.

"Well, I initiated," said Jimin, "But, still. Give me a break."

Seokjin cringed, "Why are you all so calm about this? That woman is a decade older than him at least. That's disgusting."

“It's fine," said Jaeseong, "She's gonna get kicked out. The school board found out about it through Gossip Girl and Jimin's safe from being expelled, thanks to all the money his mother dropped on the school."

“Stepmother,” said Jimin, “But I appreciate her.”

“You better,” said Seokjin, “I wonder if they’ll try to shut down Gossip Girl?”

“Ha! In your dreams, hyung,” said Hoseok, “We’re probably cursed forever."

“Don’t say that,” said Daejung, “Gossip Girl will have to free us by college at least.”

"Thank god it’s my last year,” said Seokjin, “I’ll go insane if Gossip Girl keeps talking shit about me."

“I don’t think I’ll be able to handle junior and senior year,” said Hoseok nervously, “You and I are Gossip Girl’s two favorite candidates. Once you leave, the pressure is on me.”

“That’s so weird,” said Daejung, “Gossip Girl could focus on me or Jaeseong. We’re both seniors, so we’re important. You’re a sophomore. Why does she care about you?”

"Hoseok is infinitely more important than you are," snapped Seokjin, "You may be upper class but you're still lower than him."

There generally wasn't much loyalty amongst the chaebol kids, but the Kims, Parks, Jungs, and Jeons were the cream of the crop and tended to band together because of it. They tended to dislike it when anyone else questioned the power of any of the four families, and that's what Daejung just did. Daejung didn't take anything from anyone though, much less Seokjin. His eyes narrowed as he got ready to retaliate, but he got interrupted by Jimin.

“She might shift her attention to me once you three senior hyungs graduate,” Jimin offered morosely, “She seems to be gearing up for it. I’m everyone’s favorite freshman fuckboy now.”

“It’s okay Jimin,” said Jaeseong, patting his shoulder, “I love you anyway. Even if you end up getting my favorite teacher fired — ow!”

“Your favorite teacher is a predator,” said Seokjin, “don’t be a dumbass.”

"Don't worry about it, Jiminie. Everyone will forget about it soon, with the amount of shit that goes down around here," said Hoseok, “And of course your stepmother can pay people off."

"Everyone knows about it though!" whined Jimin, "This is so embarrassing. God, I hate Gossip Girl!" he burst out.

Hoseok glared at a freshman who was giggling in their direction. Halfway through a sip of his coffee, Seokjin spotted a familiar, gangly sophomore passing behind Hoseok, staring at his feet as though he was determined not to make eye contact.

“Hi, Namjoon!” he said, waving, “Why don’t you sit?”

“What are you doing?” hissed Daejung, “He’s one of those gay kids.”

“And?” asked Seokjin, raising an eyebrow defiantly.

Hoseok frowned as Namjoon sat next to Seokjin with his tray, looking dumbstruck.

“Did you see today’s Gossip Girl update?” Jaehseong asked Namjoon, causing Jimin to glare at him.

“Yeah,” said Namjoon, playing with his hands, “Gossip Girl should have exposed Mrs. Seun without bringing Jimin into it. What a bitch.”

“I’m glad we agree,” said Seokjin, placing a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder.

He felt it tingle where Seokjin's hand was and willed himself not to break into a stupid grin. Jimin’s glare at Jaehwan melted away as his eyes crinkled into crescents. Namjoon’s fingers twitched as he had to fight the stupid urge to reach across the table and squeeze the freshman’s cheeks.

"Gossip Girl's sole purpose in life is to ruin other people's lives," continued Namjoon, who had many opinions, "Whoever she is, she must be clever if she can build up power like this. She could apply her intelligence to doing good things, but instead, she's screwing people over."

"Yeah, because she's a psychopath," said Hoseok, his frown getting deeper.

"Maybe she started Gossip Girl for a good reason," said Namjoon, They say power corrupts."

“I think she’s just an evil bitch,” said Daejung.

“Namjoon has a point,” said Seokjin, “But yes, that too."

"Not that I'm not happy to see you, hyung," said Namjoon, "But what am I doing at your table?"

“What?” said Seokjin, “You didn’t miss me? I missed you,” he said, ignoring Hoseok’s judgemental stare. Namjoon pursed his lips to keep from smiling, but his dimples popped out and revealed his true emotions.

“I did miss you, hyung,” he replied.

“I wanted to get my Namjoon fix.” Seokjin winked outrageously and Namjoon's heart beat out of his chest. "And I wanted to let you know I'm being forced to babysit a 7th grader and although I would rather learn math from you, I have to reschedule."

Namjoon's heart sank. He'd been looking forward to hanging out with Jin again all week. Of course, what he really wanted was to kiss in the rain and hold hands in flower fields, but tutoring him was the best he'd get. 

"Which 7th grader?" asked Jimin, “My brother’s in 7th grade. They might know each other.”

"You do know him," said Seokjin, "It's Jungkook."

"That tiny psychopath? I love that kid!" exclaimed Jimin, "Hey I can see if he can stay at my house instead, so you and Namjoonie hyung can do your math."

"Oh, that would be amazing," said Seokjin, "Thanks Jimin."

"I'll text my mom," said Jimin, "You'll get an answer by the end of lunch."

“Jimin, you’re a god,” Namjoon said, and Jimin’s eyes squinted again as he smiled.

Bless his tiny, cute, precious soul. Namjoon kind of wanted to huggle him, which was a weird thought, seeing as they just met. He blamed it Seokjin’s proximity to him; it made him lose the ability to think straight. He looked away and made eye contact with Yoongi across the cafeteria. He was giving him a stinky look, one that he usually saved for chaebols who sat too close to him. Being the recipient of that particular Yoongi Look was not a good feeling.

"I should go," he said, "Gotta get back to my friends." Then he picked up his tray and left.

The second Namjoon was gone, Daejung leaned over the table to Seokjin.

"Jin, your father won't be happy if he finds out you've been hanging out with a gay guy."

"I don't care," said Seokjin, "And you're not saying anything to him either."

"He's right," said Hoseok, "You need to be careful. You know what your father is like."

"Hoseok, your sister is literally a les-"

“Okay!” interrupted Jimin, “Jungkook is officially staying at my house!”

“Good,” said Seokjin, "I'm gonna go tell Namjoon."


Namjoon liked Seokjin more each Wednesday. He was surprisingly goofy, overflowing with dad jokes that were the cringiest and yet most endearing things Namjoon had ever heard. The jokes themselves were horrible, but both Seokjin’s pride after telling one and his funny-sounding laugh delighted him. Sometimes Namjoon wanted to tear his hair out during these tutoring sessions, but only because Seokjin was so handsome Namjoon couldn’t see straight. 

One day, Seokjin asked him to go to a party with him. The problem here was that Namjoon didn’t go to parties, especially not ones thrown by the like of Seokjin’s social circle. The closest he’d ever gotten to a party was a rap battle, or hanging out and getting drunk with Taehyung and Yoongi. At least in those situations, he liked everyone around him. Parties, as far as Namjoon knew, were places where teenagers who hated each other got drunk, hooked up, and ruined each other's houses.

During and after the huge parties thrown by the school’s rich kids, Gossip Girl always had a ton of fodder. The next day would be full of stories like "Minsoo made out with Hanwo. Turns out she's a lesbian!" and "Kyungsook didn't touch a drop of alcohol. Guess she must be pregnant!" and "Doyun hooked up with an eighth grader! What a perv!" He hated it.

"I'm not really a party person, hyung," he said.

"Neither am I," admitted Seokjin, "I just go all the time and party it up with girls so that people think I'm straight. Yeah, so I don't like parties, but I do like you! Come make it bearable for me, please?"

Namjoon was a sucker for Seokjin, so he said yes. He would have worried more about how he was a dumbass who got himself into uncomfortable situations, but Seokjin looked so beautiful staring at his math worksheet he forgot to think about it.

“Namjoon? The chain rule?”

“The what?”

“You’re supposed to be teaching me math.”

“Oh,” Namjoon smiled embarrassedly, “Sorry. I was distracted.”

“I could tell,” teased Seokjin, “Come on, Mr. Kim.

“Yes. Sorry,” He laughed shyly, leaning over Seokjin’s work, “So first you have to differentiate the square root. Like this, you see?”

He made the mistake of looking up and making eye contact with Seokjin. Namjoon suddenly forgot to breathe as he noticed that their faces were only a few centimeters apart. The older boy’s eyes widened a bit, and Namjoon jerked backward and cleared his throat, willing his heart to go back to its normal pace.

“Sorry,” he said, awkwardly, “I didn’t mean for our faces to, um. . . chain rule!”

“Chain rule,” repeated Seokjin, “Yes. Math.”


“Differentiation. Math.”

Namjoon cleared his throat again and tried to reexplain calculus to Seokjin. It took some effort, as he was suddenly four times more distracted by his lips as before, but he did it. Somewhere in the next ten minutes, Seokjin gave a yell of excitement and understanding and grabbed the other boy in a sudden hug. Namjoon tensed up, not expecting the contact, and when he relaxed, Seokjin was already pulling away.


Later that week, Namjoon fretted about the party while Yoongi lounged on a bean bag, smoking a cigarette. They were in Taehyung's room with a window open. The first thing the sophomore always did when Yoongi lit up was to tell Namjoon to open the window; he wasn't down to get lung cancer, and he told Yoongi so often.

“Are you guys going to rap at Dojo this weekend?” He asked, picking at his fingernails.

“Nah,” said Namjoon, “I’m going to a party with Seokjin hyung.”

Yoongi stared him like he was crazy and laughed, “Sorry. Did you say you were going to a party with-?”

“Don’t laugh,” said Namjoon, “He invited me.”

“Why?” asked Taehyung, “He’s way cooler than you.”

“You have a point,” said Namjoon, “But I think we’re friends now. He said he'd like it better if I was there.”

“Are you sure about going?” said Yoongi, frowning, “His crowd is kind of mean.”

“Well, he's not!”

“Joon-ah,” Yoongi implored, “Just be careful.”

“I’m always careful, hyung. You know me.”

“Hyung, you ran into the door because you forgot which way it opened,” pointed out Taehyung.

“That has nothing to do with anything,” spluttered Namjoon.

“No,” Taehyung shrugged, “But it was funny.”

Yoongi took another drag of his cigarette, frowned, scrunched his nose, and tossed it out of the window. Taehyung grabbed the pitcher of water he had on his bedside table and poured it on the tiny flame that had sprouted in the dead grass under the window, as he always did when Yoongi got worked up and flung his half-finished cigarettes everywhere.

“Who are you to tell Namjoon-hyung to be careful when you just nearly burned down my house?” he exclaimed, “I know you like setting fire to things, but my home will not be one of them. I refuse to be a victim of arson.”

“Stop overreacting. You're fine.”

Taehyung crossed his arms and flounced down onto his bed, pouting.

“You better look cute for that party, hyung,” he said.

“What do you mean?” asked Namjoon, “I was going to wear my normal clothes.”

“Hyung, don’t you want to get dicked down?”

“Oh my god. Taehyung, who taught you that?”

“You have to wear an outfit that says ‘fuck me,’” he continued, unabashed, ignoring Namjoon's shocked "Tae, you're fourteen!"

“Let me guess,” said Yoongi, “A collar and cat ears. Nothing else.”

Taehyung looked for a moment like he was considering it, but Namjoon quickly interrupted his thought process.

“I’m not wearing a collar,” he said, "What's wrong with you?"

“Well you’re not wearing a sweatshirt and track pants either,” sassed Taehyung. He turned to Yoongi, stuck out his bottom lip, and batted his eyelashes, “Hyung-nim, won’t you please let Namjoon-hyung borrow that one sexy leather jacket you only wear sometimes?”


Taehyung widened his eyes, making them water convincingly. Yoongi wavered, then—

“Fuck! Sure, fine, just take it."

“Thanks, hyung!” exclaimed Taehyung, bouncing up from his bed in excitement, “Now we can give Namjoon hyung a makeover!”

“I’m fine,” said Namjoon.

“Seriously,” said Yoongi, “be careful at that party.”  

“You said that already.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes and flipped him off, “I wish I hadn’t thrown away that cigarette. I’m going home.”

Namjoon checked his watch, “Me too hyung. I’ll walk with you. It’s getting late.”

“Are you guys leaving?” asked Taehyung, dramatically, throwing himself on Yoongi, “I thought you loved me.”

Yoongi patted him gently on the head, then extricated himself from under the younger boy’s weight by bodily shoving him onto the ground. 

“Bye, Tae-Tae,” he said. Taehyung pouted from his spot on the floor.

“Bye hyungs.”

“You think I’m lecturing you,” said Yoongi, on their walk back home, “But I am being very serious about this party. Be very careful. These people can be vicious. And you don’t want to end up on Gossip Girl.”

Namjoon gave a long-suffering sigh, “This is the third time you’ve said this, hyung. I get it, I really do. But you don’t know Seokjin like me. He’s kind and funny. He’s so polite to his maid--”

Yoongi snorted, “Of course he has a maid."

“Hyung! It’s not his fault he’s rich. And his friends aren't that bad either. Jimin is really nice, and Jaeseong hyung is a little weird, but he’s okay too. I don't know about Daejung hyung, but he seems fine. And Hoseok hates me a little, but as far I can tell, he's nice to everyone else,” Namjoon frowned, "Maybe he's homophobic."

Yoongi gave a surprised little start.

“Hoseok?” he asked, “The sophomore who never stops smiling? He can't be homophobic. I sucked his dick.”

“Oh. He’s gay?”

“Nah,” said Yoongi, “Said he wanted to try it out. I’m not mad though."

"Wow, that good, huh?"

"I'm not discussing this with you, you virgin," teased Yoongi, "And yeah, he was a solid 9 out of ten. He just lost a point for being straight."


It's Gossip Girl here. Looks like S has befriended someone outside the chaebol circle, a decision most of his friends aren't thrilled with. Poor Namjoon. Let's hope he gets out of this alive.

Xoxo, Gossip Girl


Jiyu's party was horrible. Namjoon was in the middle of a fucking war zone. There was a couple making out in a corner -- or rather, a triple if that made any sense. Namjoon wasn’t even sure how they did what they were doing with their mouths. Jimin was lying on the kitchen table while somebody did body shots off of his surprisingly toned abs. Jinyoung was next to the alcohol, throwing up into a red solo cup. As Namjoon watched, he placed it back on the table amongst the rest of the beer, glanced around surreptitiously, and left. Namjoon wrinkled his nose at the disgusting sight.

Jaeseong and Daejung had dragged Seokjin away the second he had entered the house with Namjoon, leaving him alone in a room full of ratchet rich people he didn't know. For a second, he wondered whether he should leave. Parties were not his thing. He knew parties were not his thing. Why was he here again?

Oh yeah. His thirsty gay ass that would do anything Seokjin wanted him to. Including going to parties. Weirdly enough, the revelation that Seokjin didn't actually enjoy going out and getting drunk with girls made Namjoon feel better about himself. He wasn't antisocial or anything, but being one of the only gay kids in the school made it very unlikely that anyone would invite him to a party. This was probably the only one he'd ever go to in all of high school.

Instead of leaving, he wandered around looking for someone familiar, although it was unlikely. But he found Yoongi in the kitchen, drinking straight from a bottle of alcohol.

“Hyung!” he exclaimed, “What are you doing here?”

“Do you think because I wasn't specifically invited to this party, I wasn’t going to come?” drawled Yoongi, “Taehyung’s here somewhere. He wanted to make sure you got laid or something. I’m just here to make sure that neither of you get into trouble.”

“I said I’d be fine 50 times, hyung,” complained Namjoon, “What are you, my mom?”

“I don’t care that much about you,” responded Yoongi, “Taehyung’s most of the problem. But I’ll go anywhere there’s free alcohol. Even if I have to deal with posh assholes. This is the good stuff, Joon. No cheap beer for me. Want some?” He offered his bottle to Namjoon.

The sophomore took it, sipped, and coughed at the taste.

“Wow, that’s strong,” he said, making a face.

“It’s whiskey," said Yoongi, beatifically, “I stole it from Jiyu’s parents’ cupboard.”

“Won’t she get in trouble, hyung?” asked Namjoon.

“Who cares?” Yoongi took another swig, “I don’t even know her. But she probably fucking sucks.”

“You’re drunk hyung,” said Namjoon, feeling uneasy with how fast his friend was downing the alcohol, “She's probably nice! Seokjin wouldn't be going to her party if he didn't like her.”

Yoongi scowled, “You’re blinded by his beautiful face. One day it’ll come back to bite you in the ass. Thank God for Gossip Girl. She’s the only one willing to take down those assholes.”

“I think you should back off,” said Namjoon hotly, “Seokjin hyung doesn’t deserve to be treated like this. He's really nice! And funny. And he thinks I'm cute."

"Maybe he just gets off on everyone loving him," said Yoongi nastily.

"Fuck you, hyung," said Namjoon, "I don't fucking get it. It’s just high school. We have a fucking social ladder. Who gives a shit?"

“Why don’t you give a shit?” shouted Yoongi, “You used to have morals!”

“What the hell are you even talking about? You were completely supportive like, 4 days ago! And now you’re fucking drunk and raving at me—”

“Supportive of what? Seokjin and your new buddies? You ditch us for them at lunch sometimes! You’re skipping the rap battle for them!”

“You’re skipping the rap battle too, hyung,” Namjoon pointed out.

“Yeah, to look out for you! You’re just following Seokjin around hoping he’ll take pity and give you a handjob. It’s fucking pathetic.”

Namjoon heard a satisfying crack as his fist connected with Yoongi's face. Yoongi reeled back and stared at him in shock, holding his nose as blood dripped out, and Namjoon got the hell out of there. Out in the middle of the street, he realized that Seokjin was still inside partying, and he had no ride home.

“Hey,” said Hoseok from behind him, causing Namjoon to wheel around in shock. “I saw you run out.” He flicked ash off his cigarette. “What’s up with you?"

“It’s none of your business," said Namjoon sulkily.

“Yeah, it is. You fight with Seokjin hyung?”

“No. I fought with Yoongi.”

“Oh, so you’re the one who broke his nose.” Hoseok frowned, “That wasn’t very nice of you. Do you have a ride home?”

Namjoon stared at him incredulously. He was the only person in the world who Hoseok didn’t like, but here he was, asking him if he had a ride.

“No,” he said, “But I can walk.”

“Good,” said Hoseok. He asked, “Why did you punch Yoongi? Poor guy is drunk and bloody now.”

“He was being a jerk. Why’d you assume I got in a fight with Seokjin  hyung?”

“I don’t know. In my social circle, it’s best to assume the worst.”

“I wouldn’t,” said Namjoon, “Punch Seokjin hyung, I mean.”

“Good,” said Hoseok, his smile disappearing. He leaned in close to Namjoon, “I haven’t gotten the chance to say this yet, but you could get Seokjin hyung in trouble. You have to be careful—”

Namjoon cut him off, his temper flaring up again, “I actually like him, for fuck’s sake. Can’t I just be his fucking friend?”

“I’m not even talking about friendship,” Hoseok said, “I’m talking about the fact that if you two aren’t careful, Seokjin hyung’s father is going to do something bad. I’m looking out for him. Are you?"

“What the fuck do you mean?”

Before Hoseok could answer, Seokjin ran up to them, shouting Namjoon’s name.

“Hey hyung!” chirped Hoseok, “I was just talking to Namjoon. I’m going back inside now.”

“Hoseok - what? Okay bye. Namjoon, I was looking for you.”

“I don’t want to stay here, hyung,” he replied, “I think I should go.”

“Oh.” said Seokjin, frowning, “Let me take you home.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll walk.”

“No, I’d rather be with you than at this party, anyway. Why do you even want to leave?” asked Seokjin, “I thought you would have fun.”

“I got in a fight,” responded Namjoon, “And I don’t like parties anyway. I’d rather stay at home and read.”

“A fight with who?”

“Yoongi-hyung,” Namjoon said glumly, “I don’t want to talk about it.

“Yeah, I saw him,” Seokjin frowned, “I thought one of my friends had gotten to him. The offer’s still up to take you home. Come on.”

“Why are you so nice, hyung?” asked Namjoon. “You’re rich and hot. What do you get out of taking me to parties?”

A part of Namjoon’s brain was telling him to shut the fuck up. He had just punched Yoongi for the questions he was now asking Seokjin.

“Is rich and hot the only thing you can think of to describe me?” asked Seokjin, sounding annoyed.

“No, hyung,” said Namjoon, frustratedly, “But you are. And I’m not.”

“What does that have to with anything? And what even brought this up?”

“That’s just the way things work here, hyung!”

Seokjin opened his mouth to argue, but closed it again and nodded.

“Okay fine,” he said, “So what?”

“You never paid attention to me until you wanted my help with math,” Namjoon sulked.

“And after I got your help with math,” said Seokjin, “I realized that not only are you cute and smart, but you’re also kind and funny.”

“So you were using me at first.”

“Why are you twisting my words like this?” Seokjin threw his arms into the air in frustration. “I like you, you idiot!”

“Don’t call me an idiot!”

Seokjin grabbed his face and kissed him, hard. Namjoon melted immediately, his shoulders sagging and his arms coming up to wrap around the older boy. They broke apart after a few moments, panting.

“Oh,” said Namjoon, his forehead resting on Seokjin’s, “That’s what you meant by ‘I like you.’”

Seokjin rolled his eyes jokingly, “Yes Namjoon. That’s usually what people mean when they say they like you.”

Namjoon smiled shyly, all agitation gone, “I like you too,” he said, “I’m sorry for getting angry at you. It's been a day."

“At least you didn’t punch me,” said Seokjin laughing. Namjoon winced. “Sorry. Sorry. Let’s go.”

“Yeah. Thanks, hyung.”

In the car, Seokjin leaned over and gave Namjoon another kiss.

“You’re cute,” he said, as Namjoon blushed and shoved his face in his hands, "I couldn't resist."

“Just drive,” said Namjoon, his voice muffled.

As Seokjin drove him home, the younger boy worried about Yoongi. Kissing Seokjin was a welcome distraction, but he didn’t like the way Yoongi had been acting at the party. He also felt guilty about punching him, not to mention the soreness in his knuckles. The two of them had been friends for years, ever since they were six and seven, and they'd never fought like this before.

“What are you thinking about?” asked Seokjin, glancing over at Namjoon.


“After a kiss like that, I should be the only one on your mind.” He joked, winking. “You guys are best friends, right?”

“Yeah, we are.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it, then. You’ll make it up to each other. Neither of you seems like the type to hold grudges.”

“Thanks, hyung.”

“Fighting with your friends always sucks. I remember when Jaehwan slept with my girlfriend. I was so angry, but we made up because I didn’t even like my girlfriend. That’s how I found out I was gay. You get something out of every conflict.”

“I already know I’m gay.”

“Then you can get a. . . a deeper understanding of your friendship.”

“You’re pulling shit out of your ass, aren’t you hyung?”

“Shh. Pretend you’re dazzled by my wisdom.”

“Okay, okay. Thank you, you’re so wise.”

Seokjin beamed at him.

“And. . . Hoseok said something about your father.”

The smile slipped off of Seokjin’s face. “Don’t worry about my father,” he said, “Hoseok thinks too much.”

Namjoon could tell by the set of his jaw that there was no use pursuing this line of conversation, so he dropped it.

Seokjin drove with one hand, his other resting next to Namjoon’s, brushing their fingers together. Namjoon took the plunge and grabbed Seokjin's hand, marveling at how soft it was. When Seokjin squeezed his hand, Namjoon grinned like a fool and stared out of the window. When they reached his house, Seokjin leaned over and pecked him on the cheek. The younger boy jumped in his seat, surprised.

“Oh! Oh, we do that now!” He exclaimed.

“Yes,” said Seokjin, giggling, “And more,” his voice dropped, “if you want.”

Namjoon let out a strangled sounding laugh. Was he talking about sex? With him, Namjoon? This wasn’t real. He had to be living in a simulation. There was no other way this was happening right now.

“It’s a joke,” said Seokjin, his eyes tracing Namjoon's face, “Kind of. I brought condoms and lube in case you did want to, but if you don’t, that’s fine. I’m just horny.”

Instead of getting on his knees and begging Seokjin to raw him on the hood of his Porsche, Namjoon nodded, his eyes wide.

“Do you want to come inside?” He asked nervously.

Seokjin grinned, “I do.”

But first Namjoon had to introduce him to his mom, who was sitting on the couch in the living room when they entered his house. Namjoon tried to sneak Seokjin past her and into his room, but his mother called his name, foiling his plans.

“Namjoon, are you not going to introduce me to your friend?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said, “This is Seokjin hyung.” He tugged on Seokjin’s hand to pull him towards his room, but the older boy resisted and tugged him back towards his mother.

“Hello Mrs. Kim,” he said, bowing, “I’m Kim Seokjin. You have a wonderful home. I like it a lot.”

Namjoon kind of wanted to smack him for being so polite. He loved his mom, but she would almost certainly make the two boys wait on the couch while she brought them cookies and talked to Seokjin about his future. Of course, they could do that later, but right now he just wanted to lose his virginity. 

“Thank you,” said Mrs. Kim, “Why don’t you sit for a second, while I get snacks?”


“Thank you so much!” said Seokjin, “But Namjoon and I have a lot of homework. I just can’t get the chain rule in my head.” He shook his head apologetically.

“Wait! What if you get hungry? What will you do?”

“Mom, we’ll come back for food. Don’t worry.”

Mrs. Kim tsked, “It’ll take two seconds. Sit down.”

Namjoon thought he was reaching his mom’s last nerve, so he complied, Seokjin joining him on his worn out couch. The older boy bumped his shoulder.

“You seem nervous,” he said, “What’s up?”

What's up was that Namjoon was a Big Gay Virgin and also wanted Seokjin in him, but he didn't say that.

“Nothing,” said Namjoon, out loud, “I’m fine. Just worried that you wouldn’t like my house or something.” It wasn’t a lie. He had been thinking about the fact that Seokjin’s living room alone was half the size of his house. But right now he was concerned about other things.

“What?” asked Seokjin, “Why wouldn’t I like your house? I mean, it’s smaller than what I’m used to, but—“

“Oh ok,” said Namjoon flatly, “I didn’t ask you to insult my home.”

“Sorry,” Seokjin corrected himself, “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” replied Namjoon, “Sorry, I’m just— um. Nervous.” He smiled sheepishly.

Seokjin squeezed his knee.

“Don’t be nervous,” he said, “I’ll take care of you. I know what I’m doing,” he added a wink for good measure and burst into laughter when Namjoon buried his face in his hands. “You're cute.”

“Here you kids go!” said Mrs. Kim, sweeping back into the room and handing several boxes of pepero to Seokjin, who bowed and took it.

“Thanks, mom!” chirped Namjoon, picking up Seokjin’s hand and pulled him towards his room, this time more in earnest than before.

“Thank you,” called Seokjin behind him as Namjoon closed the door behind him. “Oh my god. That's a lot of Ryan dolls.”

“This isn’t worse than your Mario shrine, hyung,” said Namjoon.

“Yah!” Seokjin smacked his arm. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Namjoon threaded his fingers through Seokjin’s and turned to face him. He leaned in and Seokjin tugged him against his chest.

“You’re cuter,” said Namjoon,  kissing him.

Seokjin kissed back for a moment then shoved Namjoon back onto his bed, making him yelp.

“Are you kids okay?” called Mrs. Kim from outside his locked door.

“We’re fine, thank you!” responded Seokjin, unbuttoning Namjoon’s jeans.

Namjoon sat up and pulled off his shirt and reached for Seokjin’s fly. He wrapped his hand around Seokjin’s dick and Seokjin pulled Namjoon’s pants down and his boxers and—

Oh wow.


Hey, guys and gals. Jiyu's party was a flop because Seokjin left early, but at least there was a fight. Namjoon punched Min Yoongi in the face. It's fine if you haven't heard of him. Neither have I. But it seems the fight was about Seokjin. Hmm. . .

Xoxo, Gossip Girl .


Namjoon lay his head on top of Seokjin’s naked chest, drawing shapes in his skin, and wondering how the hell he got there. Seokjin was so far from the image of a partying fuckboy that Gossip Girl wrote about that Namjoon wondered if he played it up. Especially because he was actually adorable and had pink curtains and a shrine to Mario in his closet.

Namjoon placed a kiss on Seokjin's chest, then remarked, “It’s kind of hot that you went from being super polite to my mom to shoving your fingers up my--”

“I’m going to stop you right there,” said Seokjin.

“But you did have your fingers up my--”

“Namjoon!” Seokjin blushed, “I know I had my fingers up your—hey, shut up.”

Namjoon grinned and threw a leg over Seokjin’s body in an attempt to get closer to him, although that wasn’t physically possible. He was already pretty much on top of him. Literally, not figuratively, because Seokjin had Namjoon face down ass up minutes before. God, he was hot.

“What are you so long for?” asked Seokjin, grabbing Namjoon’s thigh.

“All the better to fu—“

“I meant your legs!” he squeaked, “Hey! Stop flustering me. I’m supposed to be cool.”

“You are cool, hyung,” said Namjoon, nuzzling into his neck.

Seokjin shivered at the touch of Namjoon's breath. This was by far the best cuddling of his life. That wasn’t saying a lot, as he usually left immediately after having sex, but it was nice nonetheless. Namjoon was warm and soft and being wrapped up in him made Seokjin fuzzy inside. He didn’t want to leave, ever. But part of him worried. His parents knew he was gay, but they very much didn’t want him to be, and they wouldn't react well to news of him having a boyfriend. He had to keep Namjoon a secret, or they were both fucked. His father had outlined a whole plan for him after he had come out to his parents. He had to make himself look straight. Party with girls. Kiss girls. Sleep with girls. And eventually, when he was his own man, he could hire a male escort to suck him off in secret.

The memory of that conversation made Seokjin want to vomit.

He hadn’t kept his sexuality a secret from Hoseok or Jimin. Hoseok was his best friend; they grew up together. Jimin had found out on accident, but Seokjin had dirt on him in case he got any dumb ideas.

But for some stupid reason, Seokjin had come out to Namjoon during their first proper conversation. And he had taken him to a party and kissed him outside in the street. Seokjin hadn’t checked Gossip Girl's blog for fear of seeing a post about them. He didn't know what he would do if someone found out. Probably something drastic.

“Are you okay?” asked Namjoon, his forehead wrinkling.

“I’m fine,” said Seokjin, “I just don’t want to leave.”

"Then don’t,” said Namjoon, “Stay here with me.”

"I want to. Oh shit, my phone."

The second Seokjin picked up the phone, a wave of angry Korean hit him, loud enough that Namjoon could hear it. After a few tense minutes of being yelled at, Seokjin hung up.

“Hyung?” tried Namjoon.

Seokjin threw off the covers, slid out of bed, and pulled his clothes on hurriedly. Namjoon got off the bed too and came up behind the older boy, grabbing his shoulder.

“Don’t,” said Seokjin, turning around. With a shock, Namjoon realized he was crying.

“Hyung. What's wrong?”

"My father found out about us," cried Seokjin, "I need to go."

"We can figure it out!" begged Namjoon, "Together! We'll make a plan. Just stay."

Namjoon opened his arms and Seokjin fell into them. It was a strange picture, Namjoon still completely naked and cradling his fully dressed boyfriend, kissing him on the head while he cried. A few minutes later, Seokjin pulled himself together and Namjoon let go of him.

"I need to put on pants," he said, lamely. Seokjin hiccupped and nodded, still sitting on the floor looking miserable

"I'm so embarrassed," he said, while Namjoon got dressed, "I can't believe I cried on you like that.

"It's fine," said Namjoon, "How did your father find out?"

"Someone at the party saw us. They're threatening to leak the photo. My family has every gossip magazine on their payroll, but if Gossip Girl finds out, we’re fucked."

Namjoon collapsed back on to his bed, suddenly exhausted.

"What are they blackmailing you for?"

"Money," said Seokjin, "Prestige, I don't know. It doesn't matter. I just need to convince my father it isn't true, that it's a doctored photo, or I was kissing a girl who looked like  boy.”


“My father didn't know who I was kissing in the photo. You might not be able to tell, so you're probably safe.”

Seokjin stood, then picked up Namjoon’s hand and kissed his knuckles. Despite himself, Namjoon could feel his face grow warm. 

“I’ll see you later,” said Seokjin, and he left Namjoon on the floor, his fingers buzzing and his heart hurting.

He slept fitfully that night and woke up to an urgent knocking and Taehyung yelling, “Open the door, Hyung!”

Namjoon dragged himself out of bed to let him in. Then he dragged himself back to bed to continue his Seokjin-related depressive stupor. But Taehyung ruined his plans when he collapsed into bed with him and wrapped him in a loving death grip of all four limbs.

“Hey Namjoon,” said Yoongi, from the doorway, where he was standing, playing with his fingers, and looking very awkward.

Namjoon turned his head, surprised, and a wave of remorse hit him when he remembered what had happened at the party. “I’m sorry, hyung. I shouldn’t have hit you. That was out of line.” He wished Taehyung would let him go; his apology didn’t feel as genuine with a skinny freshman wrapped around him   

“I’m sorry too,” said Yoongi, “I hoped I would be wrong.”

“What do you mean?” asked Namjoon, frowning.   

Taehyung stared at Namjoon, eyes wide.

“Oh no,” he said.

“What?” asked Namjoon. He reached over Taehyung’s head for his phone. The younger boy tried to stop him, and after a short tussle, he looked at the screen. There was a notification from Gossip Girl.

S was seen making out with an unnamed girl in Gangnam the night of Seulgi’s party. Is that why he left so early?

Namjoon abruptly put his phone down.

“Oh,” he said, dumbly, “Oh.”

“Namjoon-ah,” said Yoongi quietly, “I saw you two kiss.”

Namjoon’s lip trembled, his face scrunched up, and fat tears began to roll down his cheeks. He buried his head in his friend‘s skinny chest, shaking.

“Scoot over,” said Yoongi gruffly, and swallowing his pride, he climbed over both his friends’ bodies and hugged Namjoon. “Namjoonie, you can do better than him.”


“He said he wanted to stay,” said Namjoon, and promptly started crying again. Everything was so confusing — as if his feelings were 40 different earbuds that were tangled in a giant conflicted ball of Seokjin-what-the-fuck. When he said he had to convince his father that the photo was fake, was this what he meant? That he would go kiss a girl and make sure Gossip Girl found out about it? And make sure Namjoon felt like shit? It was humiliating.

Yoongi buried his head between Namjoon’s shoulder blades and muttered something very softly that no one quite understood.

“What was that, hyung?” Asked Taehyung. 

Yoongi lifted his head. “I said — never mind.”

“Never mind what?”

“Never mind what I said!” Yoongi was blushing pink, so he sheltered himself behind Namjoon’s back again.

Taehyung hummed absent-mindedly as they all fell into silence, except for the occasional sniff from Namjoon.

After a few minutes of silence, Yoongi cleared his throat and asked, “Namjoon, are you up for a rap battle today? It might make you feel better.”

“I don’t know, hyung,” whispered Namjoon, “It’s been a while, and I don’t think I could be Runch Randa right now.”

“That’s okay!” chirped Taehyung, “You should rest!”

He gave Namjoon a giant smooch on the forehead, which was taken graciously. Although Taehyung’s forehead kissing habit was a little weird, it was always comforting, and Namjoon always needed comfort. The three friends laid together as Taehyung implemented his usual plan of distraction, which was spending the next 20 minutes giving a play-by-play recount of an argument he had with Sungjae over whether Star Wars or Star Trek was better.

“I like Star Wars because I want Han to raw me,” Yoongi said.

“Hyung why did you say that when you’re so close to me?” asked Namjoon, his nose wrinkling.

“Don’t say you don’t agree.”

Namjoon gave a watery laugh. Behind him, Yoongi grinned at his success at making his friend smile. But it was ruined very quickly.

"Seokjin-hyung's dad called him a faggot and then he cried on me and left to convince him that he didn't kiss a boy," explained Namjoon, "But I don't know why he had to do it like that. Why the fuck did he sleep with me if he knew that his father could find out?"

"He slept with you?" asked Yoongi, his fingers tightening on Namjoon's shoulders, "What the fuck?"

“Hyungs, what if Seokjin is Gossip Girl?" said Taehyung.

“Shut the fuck up, Tae,” said Namjoon, “He wouldn’t have to go kiss someone else if he was. Hyung, could you let go of my shoulders? You're hurting me."

Yoongi let go quickly. He thought Taehyung's theory made sense. If someone had seen Seokjin and Namjoon kiss, they could leak it to anyone. But if Seokjin was Gossip Girl, he could post alternate information to make them look stupid. What‘s more is that he’d always been Gossip Girl’s main target. Running a gossip blog about himself fit his self-obsessed image. And Gossip Girl usually only wrote about gold spoons, and as one of them, Seokjin would know their secrets. Not to mention, he was an asshole who kissed a random girl in a club after sleeping with Namjoon. That was a pretty strong warning sign for sociopathy. Yoongi had a lot of thoughts. But he kept them to himself for the time being. His best friend was hurting, and he didn’t want to make it worse. He’d discuss this with Taehyung later but for now, he just wrapped his arms tighter around Namjoon.

“Yoongi hyung, what did you say earlier?” said Taehyung into the silence, "You never told us."

“I just said I love you,” said Yoongi gruffly, “And I’m here for you. That's all the emotion you're getting today." 

Namjoon was silent for a second, then sounding choked up, he said, “I love you too.” 

Taehyung grinned at Yoongi. He buried himself deeper into Namjoon’s back and closed his eyes, feeling his breathing. This was nice. They should cuddle more often.


Yoongi stood at the door of a house eight times the size of his. He was about to knock when the door opened, and he ended up face to face with Jung Dawon. She was ridiculously pretty, and Yoongi stood there gaping at her for a few moments while she smiled encouragingly at him to speak.

“Do you need something?” She asked, after being stared at by a high schooler she’d never met for a little too long.

“Uh,” said Yoongi dumbly.


“Hoseok,” he said, “I need Hoseok. I mean—I need to talk to. . . Hoseok”

Dawon turned around and called, “Hobi! There’s a friend here to see you!” She turned back to Yoongi, “Here. Come in.”

Yoongi walked into the mansion and had his breath taken away by the size of the entrance hall alone. Jesus. Hoseok could fit half of Yoongi’s family’s entire apartment in there. Who needed this much space to greet people, for fuck’s sake?

Hoseok sped down the staircase but stopped halfway to the bottom floor when he saw Yoongi.

“Yoongi-hyung? What the f—” 

“Hey! Watch yourself,” said Dawon, “I’m going to a party. No, you’re not invited. Don’t burn the house down.”

“Noona,” whined Hoseok.

“Your friend is here!”

“I’ll bring him.”

“No you won’t,” said Yoongi. Dawon clapped him on the shoulder.

“See?” she said, “Okay, I’m going. Bye loser. And Yoongi.”

She left Hoseok and Yoongi staring at each other. Then Hoseok walked down the rest of the stairs, turned, and walked into the kitchen, Yoongi following him.

“Hyung, when I gave you my address, I didn’t think you’d actually come here,” said Hoseok, as he rummaged through the cupboards.

Ouch. That hurt.

“I don’t like you that much either,” said Yoongi icily, “Don’t worry.”

Hoseok grinned at him while pouring popcorn seeds into a bowl, “I didn’t mean it like that. I think you’re great. This just doesn’t seem like a place you would like to be.”

“Oh,” said Yoongi, “Well yeah. I actually have an important reason I’m here.”

“Not to suck my dick?” Hoseok raised an eyebrow.

Yoongi scoffed, “You gonna pop those?” he asked, gesturing at the bowl of corn.

Hoseok snorted and put the bowl in the microwave. After he had his popcorn ready, the two boys made their way up two flights of stairs to Hoseok’s room and sat down on his giant four-poster.

“This is comfy,” said Yoongi, “But we have business that doesn’t involve me sucking your dick.”

Hoseok pouted.

“Later,” said Yoongi.

“Fine. What do you need?” Hoseok was leaning back with his legs open, giving him the same look he had right before Yoongi had found himself on his knees behind their school. He kind of wanted to reenact it, to be honest.

No. Focus, Yoongi, he told himself.

“So my friend Taehyung has a theory that Seokjin is Gossip Girl," he said.

“What?” Hoseok let out a sudden, shocked laugh. “Seokjin hyung? No way.”

“Yes!” Yoongi insisted, “Most of what she writes is about him! He knows the most about himself!”

Hoseok made a non-committal noise.

Yoongi continued, “And he’s gay, right? So he writes all this stuff about seeing girls and getting drunk. That way, everyone thinks he’s straight, and if he slips up, everyone thinks he’s just messing around.”

“How do you even know that? Seokjin only told his father and me.”

“He told Namjoon.”

"Fuck Namjoon," Hoseok frowned, “I knew he wasn’t trustworthy. Does he know what could happen if this shit gets out?. Why the hell did Seokjin hyung tell him of all people?”

“Excuse me? This isn’t about Namjoon. It’s about Seokjin being a sociopathic gossip blog writer.”

“Don’t call my best friend a sociopath!”

“Don’t say my best friend is untrustworthy.”

Yoongi thought it was unfortunate that one of the two people Hoseok disliked in the entire world was his best friend. Especially since Hoseok had such a nice dick. It really put Yoongi in a tough position.

“You’re the one coming into my house and accusing Seokjin-hyung of being Gossip Girl!”

“I’m right!” said Yoongi, “You know I am.”

“He hates Gossip Girl! He doesn’t even have the app!”

“Why would he need the app if he’s the one who writes everything?”

“Oh,” said Hoseok, “That’s actually kind of convincing. But. . . how do I know you’re not Gossip Girl? You hate all my friends.”

“Exactly,” said Yoongi, “I want nothing to do with them. Why the hell would I put effort into stalking and writing about them?”

“I don‘t know, but let’s make one thing clear. Seokjin isn’t Gossip Girl. But it begs the question: If he isn’t, then who is?”

“Seokjin,” said Yoongi.

“Fuck. You got me,“ said Hoseok, rolling his eyes, “I'm going to assume Namjoon told you about what happened between him and Jin-hyung?"


"Well Seokjin-hyung has been crying nonstop for the last two weeks because Gossip Girl almost told everyone they were together. That shit with that girl? Only because of Gossip Girl. He could do whatever shit he wanted to if it weren't for Gossip Girl watching his every move. Let's meet at ORUL8,2? and we'll figure this out together."

“Fucking- okay, fine.”


Poor lonely boy had a crush on S. Looks like in didn't work out in the end. But who's really surprised?

  Xoxo, Gossip Girl.


Yoongi’s next stop after Hoseok was Seokjin, whom he planned to have a loud, firm word with. Since they had slept together, Seokjin hadn‘t spoken to Namjoon at all. The poor guy had spent a lot of time crying into Yoongi’s shoulder because the love of his life had blocked him, ignored him, and avoided him at school. Yoongi sometimes caught the chubby-cheeked freshman who sat with Seokjin giving Namjoon pitying looks. Once he had walked by their table and dropped an expensive chocolate bar on Namjoon’s lap. He’d ended up giving it to Taehyung. Yoongi got Seokjin’s address off of Namjoon’s phone one day while he was in the bathroom. His password was ILoveRyan, the absolute cutie. He didn’t deserve Seokjin’s garbage treatment. Which was why Yoongi knocked with more force than needed.

Seokjin opened the door, said “Oh it’s you,” and attempted to close it.

Yoongi shoved his foot in the gap and hissed with pain as the door crushed it.

“Ow,” he said, “We need to talk. Stop crushing my foot!”

“Why would we need to talk?” sneered Seokjin, “Get out.”

“Namjoon,” said Yoongi, “You self-serving bastard.”

“Calling me names won’t make me want to listen. What’s wrong with you?” He stopped closing the door on Yoongi’s foot, “Does Namjoon know you’re here?”

“He doesn‘t and he’s not going to. You need to fix what you did.”

“I wasn’t trying to hurt him,” said Seokjin softly.

“Then you should have stayed away from the beginning. But instead, you let him think you liked him and then crushed his heart into tiny pieces.”

“What’s it to you?” said Seokjin, “Why the hell are you at my house lecturing me?” His expression shifted as his eyes narrowed, “You like Namjoon, don’t you?”

“That’s quite the jump you made there,” said Yoongi. He couldn’t resist throwing in a “Fuck you.”

“But I’m right?” He didn’t look happy about it in the slightest.

“It doesn’t matter. He likes you, okay? And you threw him away. Fuck you and everyone like you. You have everything, but you value nothing.”

“I don’t have Namjoon,” said Seokjin.

“And whose fault is that?”

“Not mine!”

Yoongi had never been as angry as he was at that moment. Not when Namjoon had punched him, not when Taehyung had broken his phone, not even when Seokjin‘s older brother had shoved his brother into a trashcan years ago. Not only had Seokjin hurt Namjoon, but he’d also denied it was his fault, and on top of that managed to figure out Yoongi’s closely guarded feelings. He'd just committed a triple whammy of assholery, and although Yoongi was usually was not the kind of guy who yelled, he thought this was a special circumstance.

“Of course it’s your fucking fault!” he yelled, “Whose else would it be?”

“My father!”

“Your father? Your father!” Yoongi laughed hysterically, “Grow some balls! You don’t give a damn about Namjoon. You just want to save your own skin.”

Yoongi stopped talking to give Seokjin a chance to speak, but the older boy had gone quiet.

“Fine. I’m out. Whether you fix this, or you don’t, I’m not getting involved again. Bye.”

And with that, he left, hearing the door slam shut behind him.

The next week, Yoongi, Namjoon, and Taehyung walked into ORUL8,2? together, scanning the cafe for Hoseok. Namjoon had been worrying all day about seeing Seokjin, so Yoongi had texted Hoseok and told him not to bring him. Hoseok apparently didn’t care much about Namjoon’s feelings, though, because had ignored Yoongi’s instructions. Now Namjoon was frozen in place, staring at Seokjin, and wishing he was anywhere else.

Seokjin looked terrible. No, terrible wasn’t the right word for it. He only ever looked good. Even now, when Namjoon almost hated him, he took his breath away. So he didn’t look terrible. He looked depressed, and that made Namjoon depressed. Not that he wasn’t already. He was formulating an escape plan when Seokjin made direct eye contact with him and it flew right out the window. He followed his friends to Hoseok’s table and sat down across from Jimin. Everything about this was painfully awkward, but at least Jimin was adorable enough to distract him.

“Hi,” said Seokjin.

"Hi," said Namjoon.

Hoseok looked between them, grimacing, “Okay!” he clapped his hands, “You all know why you’re here, correct?”

“To find Gossip Girl,” said Yoongi, “I thought you weren’t going to bring him," He eyed Seokjin pointedly.

“Since you keep accusing him, I thought I would give him a chance to help prove his own innocence.”

“Not this again!” groaned Namjoon, “I’m pretty sure Taehyung wasn’t even serious.”

“You knew about this?” asked Seokjin.

“Don’t speak to him!” hissed Yoongi, “Not unless you’re going to apologize.”

The table went quiet.

“So. . . who are our other options?” asked Hoseok, after a few unbearable moments, “I told Yoongi hyung I thought it was him the other day but that was a joke. Look at him! He’s so cute! He couldn’t hurt a fly!”

“Looks like Seokjin is our only option then,” said Yoongi.

“I don’t agree with you, Hobi,” said Seokjin, “Yoongi could be Gossip Girl. He hates me enough. He’s trying to put the blame on me.”

“You’re trying to put the blame on Yoongi hyung!” exclaimed Taehyung.

“Regardless,” Jimin waved his hands at Taehyung to shut him up, “We have to do something about Gossip Girl."

“Like what?” asked Namjoon, “She has spies everywhere. The moment one of us tries to make a move, she’ll find out. And guess what? She’ll ruin our lives. Forever.”

“If you feel that way, what the hell are you doing here?” asked Hoseok, “Sure, she’s scary as shit, but she needs to be stopped.”

“She already ruined my life,” Seokjin said, “So I have nothing to lose, do I?”

Namjoon stared at him, wondering what the hell he was talking about. If anyone’s life was ruined, it was his. He was the one who got cheated on. And Seokjin could suck. His. Dick. Him and his stupid beautiful face, his homophobic father, his inability to think before he acted and worst of all, the way he'd completely cut Namjoon out of his life and suddenly decided to say "hi" to him in his favorite cafe. Fuck him.

“We still don’t have a plan,” he protested, “I don’t want to meet Gossip Girl’s wrath.”

Yoongi narrowed his eyes, “Well you can be a fucking coward if you want--”

“I have a plan,” said Jimin.

“There you go,” said Hoseok, “Jiminie has a plan.”

“We know this kid,” said Jimin, “His name is Jungkook, and he’s a hacker.”

“Why do you know a hacker?” asked Taehyung.

“We're big four buddies! We all grew up together. He's only in 7th grade though, so he hasn't been affected by Gossip Girl yet.”

“Wait!” interrupted Namjoon, “You want to use a 7th grader to take down Gossip Girl?”

That was quite possibly the worst idea Namjoon had ever heard from anyone. That was saying a lot, as one of his best friends liked to set fire to things and throw lit cigarettes out of windows and the other once went through a phase in which he called himself “Asexual Adam.”

“A smart 7th grader! The kid’s a genius, and he’ll do anything for food and money. I once paid him to hack into my stepmother’s email account.” Jimin’s voice dropped, “He found our cleaning lady’s nudes.”

Yoongi grimaced, “Ew. I guess we don’t have a better option.”

Jimin clapped excitedly, “I’ll bring the fried chicken and banana milk.”

“Okay!” exclaimed Hoseok, “We’ll meet this weekend. I’ll text everyone the address.”

That weekend, the boys met up at the Jeons’ mansion. They ended up clustering around Jungkook, watching him chew on a chicken leg as he scrolled through Gossip Girl’s many posts.

“She sounds dramatic. I‘ll take 300,000 won.”

“300,000?” Yoongi snorted, “That’s a lot of money for a kid wearing a t-shirt worth more than my leg.”

“Legs aren’t worth anything unless they’re insured,” said Jungkook.

Seokjin rolled his eyes, then pulled out his wallet and handed over some bills.

“Here’s half. I’ll give you rest when you’re done. Get to work.”

“Yes hyung,” said Jungkook, saluting, “I’ll get back to you in two hours. Now get out. I need to focus.”

The older boys filed out of his room, grumbling under their breaths about disrespect. They couldn‘t say anything to Jungkook’s face. The fate of their mission rested entirely on him, which kind of hurt their pride, to be honest, but they were just going to have to put up with it. They loitered in the hall for a second, not knowing where to go.

“Are we just going to stand here?” asked Yoongi.

“Let‘s take his brothers’ room,” said Seokjin, gesturing to the door next to Jungkook’s, “He’s doing his military service, so he’s not home right now.”

The boys followed him, but Namjoon wavered. Hoseok glanced at him questioningly and Namjoon stuttered out an excuse about needing to go to the bathroom. Hoseok shrugged and closed the door, leaving Namjoon by himself. Now that he was alone, he chewed his lip, making a plan. If anyone was around him, they would have been able to hear the gears turn in his head. He suddenly made a decision and walked right back into Jungkook’s room.

“I thought I said to leave me alone,” said the 7th grader, “I’m working.”

“I know,” said Namjoon, “But I have an offer for you. I’ll pay you if you don’t try to find out who Gossip Girl is.”

“Why?” Jungkook spun around in his chair to face the older boy.

“Because if Gossip Girl finds out about this, she’ll destroy us. And you.”

“Isn’t the whole point to prevent her from screwing with people?” asked Jungkook, “You’re acting kind of sketchy.”

“I’m trying to protect my friends. Trust me, this won’t end the way we want it to.”

Jungkook grunted. “What do I know? I‘m thirteen. How much are you going to pay me?”

“400,000,” said Namjoon, cringing. His allowance didn’t cover that much, and he would have to borrow some from his parents, but it was worth it.

“I won’t do it for less than 500,000,” said Jungkook, and Namjoon had never wanted to hit a kid before, but there was a first time for everything.

“What the fuck am I, a piggy bank?” He asked incredulously.

“You want me to ruin my reputation and lie to Jimin-hyung, Hobi-hyung, and Seokjin-hyung. They're basically family. I won’t do any of that for cheap.”

“Fine!” Hissed Namjoon, “I’ll pay. But don’t expect it now. We’re not all chaebols.”

Jungkook shrugged, “My brother’s the chaebol, not me.” He looked Namjoon in the eye. “Don’t forget to pay, or I might forget our agreement.”

Namjoon nodded and left the room. He stood in front of Jungkook’s brother‘s door for a moment before entering, so he could calm down. Fuck. He didn’t want to see Seokjin again. Except he did. But he didn’t. God, he was so conflicted. He sighed and opened the door. The room’s atmosphere made him feel claustrophobic; the second he walked in, he wanted to leave. But instead, he sat next to Yoongi and did his best to avoid Seokjin’s stare.

“Namjoon—” said Seokjin.

“Leave me alone.”

“Namjoon-hyung, can you forgive him? He’s made us all miserable for the past few weeks.”

“Speak for yourself,” interrupted Hoseok, “I’m fine.”

“Shut up,” said Jimin, “Namjoon hyung, what Jin-hyung did was damage control.”

“What the heck does that mean?” Taehyung asked, sounding offended, “Is Namjoon-hyung damage?”

“Yes,” said Hoseok, “Ow!” Yoongi had pinched him very hard. “He is! Just to be clear, we all know Seokjin’s big secret, right?” Everyone nodded. “Okay. Well someone saw him kiss Namjoon and he would’ve been utterly fucked unless he diverted attention — which he did — so stop being selfish and understand there’s more at stake.”

“See, that excuse makes no sense,” said Namjoon, “Because he could’ve diverted attention another way. He didn't have to avoid me either! Did you see that fucking Gossip Girl post?”

“I'm really sorry,” whispered Seokjin.

Yoongi and Hoseok made eye contact. They were thinking the same thing: their best friends were miserable without each other. Sure, Yoongi hated Seokjin’s guts and Hoseok highly disapproved of Namjoon’s everything, but maybe they should get back together. Of course the best option would be if they could figure out their shit without a crowd, but since Yoongi was there and being forced to watch them verbally throw down, he might as well give them his opinion.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” said Yoongi, rubbing his face with his palm, “But take him back. You’re fucking miserable without him.”

“Namjoon, you are by far my least favorite person,” said Hoseok, “And you’re a giant douche, but so is Seokjin-hyung. He’s dumb, he acts like a child, and he doesn‘t think anything through.”

“He’s right,” said Seokjin, “I’m a gigantic idiot. But I did what I thought would protect you. Kissing that girl, leaking it to Gossip Girl, avoiding you: that was all to protect you. But now you’re here, and I can’t fucking live without you and I don’t know what the hell to do to make you forgive me! I'm sorry. I'm a piece of shit."

“Yeah you are,” said Namjoon, then surprising everyone including himself, he grabbed Seokjin by the front of his shirt and kissed him.

Seokjin’s lips were salty but Namjoon still melted into them. Then he was crying too and clutching Seokjin’s shoulders. Seokjin made a tiny surprised noise. wrapped his arms around Namjoon. Namjoon knew he missed him, but he never realised quite how much.They only pulled apart when Jimin’s obnoxious retching noises reminded them where they were.

“Jimin,” said Namjoon, sounding pained.

Seokjin cleared his throat, “Will you give me another chance?”


"Yes," said Namjoon, "But keep in mind, you're not quite forgiven."

"That's fair," said Seokjin, "Will I ever be?"


“Wow, there’s so much love!” crowed Taehyung, throwing himself onto Yoongi, “Group hug!”

Hoseok screeched and jumped onto Taehyung, taking Jimin by the hand and pulling him into the newly founded cuddle pile. Yoongi tried his best to wiggle out from under the weight of the rest of the boys and failed.

“Could someone help me please?” He said, “I can’t handle this much affection at once.”

In pity for Yoongi, Namjoon and Seokjin tried to drag their giggly friends off of the poor boy (“Come on, guys, it’s the wrong time for this,” “No, hyung! We’re celebrating!”) but ended up getting themselves pulled into it. At this, Yoongi stopped squirming, giving up on any hope of freedom. He sighed as Taehyung wrapped his legs around his waist.

“I hate all of you,” he said.

“No you don’t,” said Hoseok, with a mouthful of Jimin’s hair.

Starting with Namjoon, the boys untangled themselves. Once he was free, Yoongi sat in the far corner of the bed, doing his best not to let the corners of his mouth twitch upwards.

“You all suck,” he said, “Especially you, Seokjin.”

“When are you going to call me hyung, you disrespectful crab?”

 "Fine. You suck, hyung. If you hurt Namjoon again, I will climb into your room in the middle of the night and cut off your dick.”

‘The same goes for you, Namjoon,” said Hoseok.

“The fuck did he do?” asked Yoongi, “Stop being an ass.”

Hoseok shrugged and held out a hand to Namjoon, who took it. Hoseok beamed at him. The boys spent the rest of their 2 hour wait time with much less tension than before. Hoseok was on his phone, sending dirty texts to Yoongi, who was pretending to ignore them. Taehyung and Jimin, meanwhile, were arm wrestling. Seokjin and Namjoon watched them, their fingers entwined, and Seokjin’s head leaning on Namjoon’s shoulder for the first time in since they’d last seen each other. Things had changed very quickly for them; Namjoon was going through heart whiplash. 

“I don’t think you’re Gossip Girl,” he said to Seokjin, “No matter what.”

“Thank you. I’d be concerned if you did and still wanted to get back with me,” laughed Seokjin, “I’m sorry for everything.”

“You said that already.”

Seokjin sighed and Namjoon squeezed his hand. He wanted him to feel a little bad, but now that he’d apologized, he was mostly over it. He’d been trying to protect him. Namjoon just wished he hadn’t tried to violently rip him out of his life. Yeah, he was still angry, but no longer as much. His main emotion at the moment was anxiety, and that was riding on Jungkook.


“Sorry,” said Jungkook. He shrugged, “There’s nothing I can do.”

“Are you sure?” asked Jimin, looking devastated, “You can’t find anything?”

“Her website is encrypted, she uses a private server, and she covers her traces very well. I don’t have the skill level for this. I‘m just a seventh grader.”

“Fuck!,” yelled Yoongi, kicking the leg of Jungkook’s bed.

“Calm down, please,” said Jungkook, looking alarmed, “I did my best.”

“I’m sure you did,” said Jimin, patting him on the head, “Don’t worry about it too much, okay? You’re talented.”

Jungkook blushed and muttered, “Thanks hyung. I appreciate it.”

Seokjin ended up half of the boys home. Hoseok and Jimin just borrowed Jungkook's chauffer, but Seokjin wanted time alone with Namjoon, and Yoongi and Taehyung felt very uncomfortable with being driven around by a man they didn't know.

“Looks like we’re back to square one again,” said Yoongi, “Serves us right for trusting a 12-year-old.”

“He’s thirteen,” piped Taehyung.

“Regardless,” said Namjoon, “We should take this as a sign. We can’t stop Gossip Girl, and it’s better if we leave her alone before she screws us over more.”

”Namjoon.” Seokjin gripped the wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. “No offense, but that’s stupid.”

“No offense, but I’m trying to protect us. Which is exactly what you were doing when you cheated on me.”

Seokjin was about to angrily retort, but Yoongi cut him off first.

“Full offense, but can you two fight after you drop us off?” asked Yoongi, “Seriously. You just got back together. And I don’t want to be here when Seokjin-hyung crashes the car.”

“Drop me off with Yoongi-hyung. I’m not staying in here with you longer than I have to either,” said Taehyung.

After Seokjin dropped off Yoongi and Taehyung, the car was quiet and tense. The lump in Namjoon’s throat was growing. He’d finally gotten Seokjin back, and now they were fighting again.

“You know it’s not safe for us to be together until we stop Gossip Girl, right?” said Seokjin, breaking the long stretch of silence. Namjoon said nothing. “Gossip Girl is why I had to go kiss some girl in a club. I had to throw her off my tail so we could have a chance at being together.”

“You can’t keep using Gossip Girl as an excuse.”

“My father is not a nice man,” said Seokjin, “I had to convince him that the kid who wanted to blackmail us saw wrong. I thought I could have something for myself, but Gossip Girl is always a threat. There’s always a chance she’ll out me— ” his voice shook, so he stopped to take a deep breath and continued, “I had to fix it.”

“I’m sorry, hyung,” said Namjoon. He felt suddenly felt guilty seeing Seokjin on the verge of crying as he parked his car.

“You have every right to feel hurt. I’m just telling you this because I want you to understand.”

“I’m sorry about Gossip Girl,” amended Namjoon, “I . . . didn’t realize how important it was to you.”

Seokjin looked at him for the first time since they had started this argument and reached out to touch Namjoon’s cheek. Namjoon closed his eyes and leaned into the warmth of his hand.

“Let’s not make arguing this much a habit,” said Seokjin, “Can we risk a kiss?”

“Yeah,” said Namjoon, “Please?”

He closed his eyes as Seokjin leaned over and planted a kiss on him, tangling his fingers in his hair to pull him closer. As Namjoon brought his hands up to cup his boyfriend’s face, he thought he could get used to this.


I hear there are people trying to take me down. Pro tip, don’t. Not unless you want me to take you down.

  Xoxo, Gossip Girl.


Up in his room, Namjoon flopped into bed and sighed. This whole Gossip Girl thing was getting far too complicated far too quickly. It was exhausting. Emotionally, physically, and mentally. Seokjin had convinced him that Gossip Girl would impede their relationship, but that was hard to think about now because of how tired he was. He decided to take a nap and deal with it later. His phone went off, but he had his eyes closed already and didn’t want to open them to read the screen. Unfortunately, it kept dinging, so Namjoon groaned, cussed, picked it off his chest and checked his notifications.

Kookiemonster: i know who u are

Kookiemonster: why would u do that to your friends?

Kookiemonster: what do you get out of this?

Oh shit. Namjoon typed out a reply, willing himself not to panic.

GossipGirl: All I want is Seokjin-hyung

GossipGirl: Don’t worry. It’s almost over.

GossipGirl: Keep your mouth shut.

Kookiemonster: whatever, namjoon

Kookiemonster: u dont scare me

Oh fuck. Oh, fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. Oh. Fuck. What was he supposed to do now? There was no instruction manual for what to do when someone finds out you’re running a sketchy anonymous gossip blog. Especially when the fact that you’re running a sketchy anonymous gossip blog could ruin your relationship. None of that stuff Jungkook had said before about encryption and private servers was true. Namjoon had created an app with just enough security to make it difficult to hack. But Jungkook was a child prodigy who had hacked into it anyway and found Gossip Girl’s identity. And worst of all, he could tell Seokjin.

Namjoon cussed and buried his head in his pillow. He needed a plan. The original reason for Gossip Girl was to get close to Seokjin. He wasn’t expecting him to like him back. Now that he did, there wasn’t a reason for him to be Gossip Girl. In fact, since Seokjin hated it so much, it would only keep them apart. As much as he disliked the idea of deleting a blog he spent the better part of two years building, there was only one solution to this that Namjoon saw, and he would use it.

GossipGirl: I have something you’ll want to hear.

Kookiemonster: i don’t care

Kookiemonster: im giving u back ur money

Kookiemonster: i dont want it

GossipGirl: I’m ending Gossip Girl.

Kookiemonster: y

GossipGirl: I never meant to hurt anyone, least of all Seokjin-hyung. You can’t tell him anything. It’ll only hurt him more.

Kookiemonster: ur a jerk

Kookiemonster: u have to tell him if u dont want me to.

GossipGirl: Fine.

Namjoon sat up and put his face in his hands. He was too exhausted now to call Seokjin. They had just gotten back together, too. Unfortunately, it looked like he had no other choice than to be honest, but today was not the day. Tomorrow, he told himself. He’d tell Seokjin tomorrow.

But tomorrow came and Namjoon said nothing about the matter. Seokjin had texted him under the table in class: a message reading, you look cute today . Namjoon couldn‘t bring himself to say anything to Seokjin that would ruin the way he smiled at his phone when Namjoon texted back, you look cute always . It was like their relationship was unfolding like a little flower and Namjoon didn't want to nip it in the bud.

The day after that, Namjoon just forgot, okay? He was too busy letting Seokjin teach him how to deepthroat on his beautiful, beautiful dick. Namjoon went home after that and wrote lyrics that no one would ever hear him rap. But he read them repeatedly to himself that night, palming himself through his boxers as he thought about Seokjin’s endearing, crooked fingers gently guiding his head. He only remembered he was supposed to tell him he was Gossip Girl in the middle of coming. It ruined the whole experience.

The day after that was another too-gay-to-remember-anything day. All Namjoon thought about was how soft Seokjin’s hair was when they were making out on top of Namjoon’s bed.

And as the days passed, Namjoon kept finding reasons not to tell Seokjin. Sometimes Seokjin told Namjoon his terrible jokes and laughed so hard at himself that a conversation about Gossip Girl seemed inappropriate. Sometimes the two of them were doing things and Namjoon just couldn‘t reveal his big secret while gasping his boyfriend’s name. Sometimes he was just scared. And one time, his mother had barged in on the two of them kissing because he had forgotten to lock the door. He had to calm down a hyperventilating Seokjin and explain that his mother didn’t care about them being gay and would keep their relationship secret. Mrs. Kim made both of them tea afterward too. It was fine in the end, except Seokjin had cried over his tea because his parents weren’t anywhere near as accepting as Namjoon’s mother. Namjoon hadn’t posted anything since his conversation with Jungkook, but he still felt like shit over Seokjin’s fear of being outed.

Several weeks later, Namjoon still hadn’t told Seokjin that he was Gossip Girl. He was starting to get cocky because of it. Maybe Jungkook wasn’t going to say anything after all. It was stupid to be intimidated by a thirteen-year-old, anyway. But Namjoon couldn’t stop thinking about it, even as he cuddled on his couch with Seokjin. Could he ever tell him he was Gossip Girl? All signs pointed to no.

“I’m aware I’m hot, but you haven’t looked at the screen once since we started watching this movie,” said Seokjin, “What are you staring at me for?”

Namjoon rolled his eyes and said, “It’s not my fault you’re beautiful.”

Seokjin surprised him by grabbing him around the waist and shoving him down onto the couch. Then instead of kissing him, he buried his head in his chest and mumbled something that Namjoon couldn’t decipher.

“Say that again?”

Seokjin lifted his head, made eye contact with Namjoon, and dropped his head back into Namjoon’s chest.

“I hate you,” he said, lifting his head again, “I’m supposed to be cool and flirtatious. But now I’m embarrassed because you called me beautiful.”

“Aw, really?” asked Namjoon.

Seokjin reached up and poked one of his dimples. “Yes, really.”

Namjoon’s heart swelled with an unidentifiable, warm, fluffy emotion. Oh. He was in love.

“What are you thinking?” asked Seokjin, tracing Namjoon’s jaw with a fingertip.

I’m Gossip Girl. I’m in love with you. I’m Gossip Girl and I’m in love with you.

“Nothing,” said Namjoon, “Popcorn?”


Shortly after Namjoon went home and had an existential crisis over being Actually In Love, Jeon Jungkook, hacker extraordinaire, contacted Namjoon to make sure he’d told Seokjin his secret identity. Obviously, he hadn’t, and he was panicking enough about it as it was before Jungkook gave him a final deadline of one more week. One more week. One more week before Namjoon was extra totally utterly fucked. He didn’t appreciate a 7th grader was pulling him around like a puppet on a string, but at this point, there were no other options short of murder.

Namjoon spent most of the allotted week trying to figure out how he was going to bring up the subject of Gossip Girl. He thought about doing it over text for a second but quickly dispelled the notion as the actions of an asshole. The only thing he really knew was that he wanted to wait until the last day becaause he wanted as much time left with Seokjin as possible.

When the deadline arrived, Seokjin was sucking him off and Namjoon was distracted by the Big S Secret.

Seokjin suddenly let go of Namjoon’s dick and sat back on his haunches, sighing.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” lied Namjoon.

Seokjin rolled his eyes and put Namjoon’s dick back in his pants. Then he got to his feet and looked him in the eye.

“You got soft. So either I’m doing something wrong, or you’re thinking of something else. And I know I wasn’t doing something wrong. I never do. I'm great with your dick.”

Namjoon covered his face with his hands. “Don’t talk about my dick to me,” he mumbled.

“You’re such an embarrassed little baby,” said Seokjin fondly, “Come on, tell Papa Seokjin what’s wrong.”

“I can’t,” said Namjoon, “And please don’t call yourself Papa. Really!” he exclaimed as Seokjin laughed, “I was kind of into being called baby, but the phrase ‘Papa Seokjin’ ruined it.”

Seokjin took Namjoon by the wrists and pulled his hands away from his face.

“What’s wrong? You’re being grumpy.”

Namjoon stared at him, wondering what to say. Seokjin stared back, raising an eyebrow. He sighed and zipped his pants. It was time.

“Sit down,” he said, collapsing onto the bed and patting the spot next to him.

“Are you breaking up with me?” asked Seokjin, laughing nervously as he sat down,

“Please say no.”

“No!” Namjoon shouted, “I—I'm honestly afraid you’ll break up with me.”

“You’re cheating on me.”

“What? No!” Namjoon’s arms windmilled around with shock. Yeah, what he did was bad , but it wasn’t cheating level bad, and he was offended that Seokjin would think that was an option. “What the fuck, hyung. I would never do that!”

“Then what is it?” asked Seokjin, his eyebrows knitting together.

Namjoon took a deep breath, paused, blew it out, opened his mouth to speak. Nothing came out at first.

“Namjoon, you’re worrying me.”

“I’m Gossip Girl,” he blurted out.

“You’re what?”


“I heard you,” said Seokjin, waving him off, “Just— why the fuck would you say something like that? That's not fucking funny!”

Namjoon wanted to run far away. It was an old feeling, one he knew too well, but not one he had recently associated with Seokjin. Whatever they had together was slipping down a metaphorical shower drain with every passing second.

“It’s true,” said Namjoon, in a small voice.

“What the fuck,” said Seokjin, shaking with rage, “What the fuck,” he repeated. He had turned so bright pink with anger that the part of Namjoon’s brain that wasn’t about to cry wanted to laugh at his resemblance to a strawberry, “Please tell me you aren’t serious.”



With that, Seokjin stood up and stormed out, slamming the door behind him so hard that the frame rattled. Namjoon sat there in shock before he curled into a ball on the floor and cried. When he left his room an hour later, Seokjin was sitting in front of the door, cross-legged and glowering up at him. Namjoon started, not expecting him to still be in his house.

“Hyung I-”

“You’re sorry, I know,” said Seokjin. The glower slipped off his face, and he sighed. “I’m going to give you a chance to explain. It would be hypocritical of me not to.”

Namjoon thought it wasn’t hypocritical at all. In fact, he thought he was a piece of shit and Seokjin should kick him in the nuts and run away. But he didn’t say that. He wanted there to be another chance for them, no matter how selfish or unlikely it may be.

“Please come in, hyung,” he said.

Seokjin nodded and stood up, ignoring Namjoon’s hand and unspoken offer to help him up, and shouldering past him. Then the two of them were sitting on Namjoon’s bed again, not making eye contact.

“I started Gossip Girl to keep tabs on you,” said Namjoon, “You know how people will stalk their crushes? Like that, but taken too far.”

“Taken too far,” snorted Seokjin, “That’s a giant fucking understatement.” Namjoon winced. “You invaded my privacy! I was afraid of you! Every single gossip magazine in Seoul is on my father’s payroll, but fucking Gossip Girl—” Seokjin sighed, “I was terrified I’d fuck up and never see you again. . .”

“I’m so sorry hyung. Listen, I’ll end Gossip Girl.” Namjoon’s hands shook as he pleaded, “Hyung, I promise.”

“Why haven’t you already?” snapped Seokjin.

“I stopped posting.”

“That’s not the same!” Seokjin’s lower lip wobbled. Namjoon stared at the floor, blinking hard to avoid crying again. After a silence, Seokjin continued, “I’m not breaking up with you. Not yet. But I need to be able to trust you.”

“What do you need me to do?” asked Namjoon, “Tell me and I’ll do it. I swear.”

“You have to end Gossip Girl,” said Seokjin, “Officially. Delete the blog, make a goodbye post, I don’t care. End it. Not posting isn’t enough.”

Namjoon hesitated. He’d put a lot of effort into building an empire as Gossip Girl. But Seokjin’s nostrils flared at Namjoon’s pause, and he quickly reconsidered.

“I’ll do it!” he said hurriedly.

Seokjin’s voice was flat when he responded, “Is Gossip Girl worth more to you than I am?”

“No. No! I stopped posting for a reason! I like you so much, hyung.”

“Stop talking,” said Seokjin, “You say so much shit. If you couldn’t keep posting why the fuck didn’t you delete the whole blog?”

“I’ll end it. Right now.”

“I know you will,” said Seokjin, looking distraught, “But you waited so long to do it, and you waited so long to tell me.””

“I knew you’d be upset,” said Namjoon.

Seokjin scoffed. “Of course, I’m fucking upset!”

“I was scared!” said Namjoon, “I never planned for you to like me back, but you did. I was surprised and I didn’t want you to hate me so I didn’t tell you and then I--”

“Just end Gossip Girl. Please.”

“Okay,” said Namjoon, nodding, “Okay.”

“I’m going,” said Seokjin, “I need air and space. I’ll call you. Maybe.”

He got up and left the room, leaving Namjoon sitting on the bed holding back his tears. This was absolutely not what he wanted. Maybe that’s why he held on to Gossip Girl so strongly. She got whatever she wanted. She had respect, and power, and loving fans. Namjoon was an awkward looking gay nerd at a private school in Seoul. And he had Seokjin. But regardless of what he said about not breaking up with him, he was probably going to anyway. Namjoon would if it were him who was beautiful, kind, funny, talented, going to college and had just found out that his younger boyfriend had committed some sort of ultimate betrayal.

Namjoon picked up his laptop from his desk, logged in to Gossip Girl and typed his goodbye post. When he finished, he crawled under his blankets and had a good cry.

Later that night, Seokjin turned over in his bed and fluffed his pillow aggressively. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out why he’d told Namjoon he wouldn’t break up with him. Yeah, he loved him a lot, but they had too many problems and no easy way to solve them.

Seokjin’s list of problems went like this:

1. He was gay.

2. His father required him to stay in the closet.

3. If he didn’t, he would never see Namjoon again.

4. He spent most of his time terrified of Gossip Girl outing him.

5. Namjoon was Gossip Girl, and he had lied about it. 

But if Namjoon was Gossip Girl, then Seokjin didn’t have to worry about being outed. If anything, he’d helped him by building up his reputation as Straight™. And yeah, he had ruined Jimin’s social life for a bit there, but he also got a creepy teacher fired. In some respects, Gossip Girl was a vigilante. All of that didn’t preclude the fact that he had invaded Seokjin’s privacy and used him to build a cult following of B-list rich kids. That hurt. He couldn’t stay with him. He had some self-respect. Not a lot, but some.

He turned over again, sighed, and tried to sleep.


Hey Guys! Gossip Girl here. As you may have noticed, I haven’t posted anything for a while. I’ve decided I no longer want to continue this blog. I’ve spent too much time nosing into other people’s business. One more thing: No copycats. Gossip Girl is over.

Xoxo, Gossip Girl.


“Hyung, remember Gossip Girl?” asked Jimin, running a hand through his new blue hair, “High school was weird.” He grinned up at Seokjin, who frowned back as he straightened his tie, “We never found out who she was.”

Jungkook, who was sitting on the bed next to Jimin, made eye contact with Seokjin in the mirror, but quickly looked away"

“Don’t bring up Gossip Girl,” said Hoseok, swatting lazily at Jimin, “It’s hyung’s birthday. 26. Wow, what an old guy.”

The mention of Gossip Girl made Seokjin very badly not want to celebrate his birthday. All he could think about was Namjoon. If ever there was a relationship that didn’t work out, that was the one. And if there was a person who would haunt him forever, it was him.

“Look, you made him sad!” exclaimed Hoseok.

Seokjin was about to retort that he was fine, thank you, when Jungkook’s phone rang, causing the younger to jump.

“Oh, it’s Yoongi-hyung,” he said, the tops of his cheeks turning red, “He came to pick me up.”

“For what?” asked Jimin, surprised.

“For our date,” said Jungkook, giggling nervously, “Bye.” He picked up his jacket and ran out of Seokjin’s room, leaving all of his older friends staring at the door.

“What the actual fuck?” asked Hoseok, “Yoongi? Min Yoongi? I’m following Jungkook,” he announced and rushed out after him.

“What the hell?” asked Seokjin, “Jimin, did you know about that?”

“Trust me, hyung. No one saw that coming.”

Seokjin straightened his tie again. He hadn’t heard from Yoongi at all since he’d graduated. Not that they’d spoken much ever. Seokjin had just known him through Namjoon and Hoseok. He hadn’t spoken to Namjoon either, not for the last eight years. He missed him. It hit him like a truck. 8 years, and he still loved him a little. He guessed that was the nature of first loves. But that was high school, and this was now. Now, Seokjin worked at his father’s company. He didn’t party anymore. He had a fiancee, a woman four times smarter than him with a business degree.

He tugged on his tie and pulled it off.

“Not that one?” asked Jimin.

Seokjin shook his head, “I don’t want a tie. I feel like I’m choking.”

“Okay,” Jimin eyed him concernedly but didn’t move.

“Can you go?”

He nodded, “I’ll follow Hoseokie-hyung.”

Once Jimin had gone, Seokjin collapsed backwards onto his bed, then groped blindly for his phone. Once he found it, he went into his contacts and scrolled until he found a name he should have deleted a long time ago.

The line clicked.


“Hi, Namjoon.”