You recall meeting Namjoon two long years before meeting Hoseok and much, much, before you decided to become an idol. It was a series of brief meetings that brought you two together. Ones so cliche, you never actually thought you would be in one. If fate was a person, you’d question the shit out of them before thanking them for bringing the two of you together.
It starts out in the busy city of Seoul. There was always a crowd and the buses were no exception. You always take one of the busier buses in the morning in favor of your favorite day time routine of watching the sunrise. Most days, you were already delirious from staying up long enough that the early hour made your quick decisions for you. It practically took your hand and led you to the nearest bus stop faster than you could realize what you were actually doing. And so, your sun rise routine was formed. On other days, though, you didn't go at all. Although, there was one day that woke you up more than any fancy coffee would. You don't remember much from that day but you think there was a show going on? Some concert that people wanted to get to early to. All of their shirts showcased an acronym fuzzy in your mind. Was it BPS? TBS? You don't remember. You do remember that the bus was packed as shit.
Taking a step and paying for your seat you looked up at the seats available. There were none. Okay, thats cool, fine. Maybe the handrails are open? You look up finding them all taken, save for the broken one that was just tall enough for you not to be able to reach. Fantastic. You moved into the bus, hoping you would find a spot for yourself.
Stepping forward, you chose a spot between the tallest guy you've ever seen with a local college hat on and an old lady that offered you a kind, sorry smile. She probably noticed your dilemma. You speak to the Nice Old Lady in your head, reassuring her that you'd be okay. Maybe? If you stood with your legs at just the right angle, maybe you wouldn't fall? It was worth a shot. Anything to get you from bumping into the Nice Old Lady. Or the Tall Dude. Who is reading a book? Wouldn't reading a book on a bus be troublesome cause of all the bumps? Just what is this guy doing? Feeling a bit nosey, you take a peek at the pages of his small book. You don't see the size of the font because inside lay his phone, hidden in the crevice of the pages. Feeling more noisy than before, you take another peek. It looked like we has reading… another book? What the h-
A high pitched ‘SKREE’ ran through your ears along the biggest swerve you've ever felt in your life. You open your eyes, unaware you even closed them and pray to god that your weird foot stance saved your Nice Old Lady. When you look for her, she's still smiling at you but there's this sparkle in her eye. Why is Nice Old Lady smirking at you? Oh shit! The Tall Guy! You look up to find small eyes peeking at your in worry. Oh god. You get off of him and apologize quickly, the words slurring off your tongue in your embarrassed haze. This is the worst fcking bus ride ever. Save for your Nice Old Lady friend. She’d never hurt me. You turn to leave your spot, mentally saying goodbye to the Nice Old Lady but the Tall Guy catches your arm before you leave. With one hand holding his book and the other grabbing the over head cracked rail, he offers you his arm to hold onto. You try looking up at him, but his hat covers his eyes. The hat he's wearing doesn't do much to hide the small smile on his face.. Your stop comes before his, and your two new friends, the Tall Guy and the Nice Old Lady, offer you a kind smile before you get off the bus.
The next day, the bus isn't as packed. Your Nice Old Lady is gone but the Tall Guy is still here. This time, he's wearing a dark blue beanie. He's pretending to look at his phone, clearly distracted. He stands when the bus moves and this time, you're the one who catches him, barely. He looks up at you with an embarrassed smile. The first words he ever speaks to you are:
“I promise i'm not a creep, but, do you need my arm again?”
Once you questioned his ‘creep’ status a little more, you were overwhelmed by his kindness. He took the bus with you everyday and everyday you grew a little more fond of him and his tight smile. Before you knew it, you found yourself both stepping down the bus stairs so get off at the same stop.
Today, you find him spilled on his kitchen floor wearing the most obnoxious pair of sunglasses you’ve ever seen. His phone is in one hand while a bag of cinnamon chips lays half open by the other. The lights aren’t on but the sunset sun shines bright, bouncing around the room. You like to think that’s why he’s wearing his glasses, but you know its not.
“Namjoon?” your soft voice wafting through the complex. You didn't want to frighten him out of his thoughts, but it seems you did, even when speaking in the softest voice you could muster.
He sits up and although it looks like he's looking at you, he can't hide the sad expression through his thick rims. But he doesn't say anything, not yet. You doubt he's even heard you, too caught up in his own world to process anything. This boy is thinking up the tightest storm you've seen and all you want to do is help him pick it apart. So, you try again.
“Joon? You good down there?”
The hell is going on? You're about to try again when he stops you, looking up at you over his glasses like some red-eyed librarian.
“Im peachy. Im at peace here. The floor is now a second home to me. You know what? I’ve decided me and the floor are friends now. How are you, though?” You shoot him a look. He's got time to make jokes but not tell you what's on his mind? Yeah, ight.
“Fine, alright, me and the floor aren't friends, were lovers.”
“Namjoon you better tell me what the hell is wrong with you before I beat your ass. You're making it hard for me to be here for you dammit.”
He sighs and motions for you to sit with him on the floor. His expression is dark now and he pushes his sunglasses higher on the bridge of his nose. You want to ask him to take them off, so you can really get a read on him but you know you shouldn't. He’ll take them off when the time comes. And if it never does, then…
“I'm not really fine, no,” he begins, “I'm just feeling… Yeah.”
The two of you sit in silence then. He keeps opening his mouth and closing it again like hes trying to form a sentence but doesn't know how to start it. So, you give him time to think. After what seems like forever he sighs and puts his head in his hands.
“Do you think i'm selfish?”
“What no? Why…?”
“Okay, how about this, if someone wants to see someone else every hour of the day-- every minute-- even if it means the other person loses their own time. Is that selfish?”
“Namu? C’mon. Just tell me what's this about.”
“No, please, answer honestly. Is that selfish? To want someone so much you can't bear parting with them even for a little bit? No, actually, yeah, saying that out loud makes it make more sense. Its super selfish,” he lets out a sigh, rubbing his large hands over his face in frustration, “Damnit.”
“Joon, I don't think you really get what you're saying here. Sure, that's selfish but I mean, c’mon… That kind of selfishness comes when you're in, uh,” you pause. He's looks up from his hands at you like you have all the answers in the world. And you really don't. Not at all, but this is something special. This is-
It hangs in the air. You can feel it coursing through the air, reaching him slowly. But of course, the heavy realization hit him like bricks. His shoulders slump and he returns his hands to his face. Had he never thought of this outcome before? Namjoon, what the hell?
“You said that out loud, you know. And yes, I have thought about it before but… Love? Really, love? I can't just be, I dunno, a major crush or some kind of weird obsession or something?”
“Do you realize how dumb that sounds. Namu, if it was some itty bitty crush you might have stopped it by now. Joon this really sounds like you really love Hoseok and you can't change my mind.” You press the idea, practically feeding it to him. You don't want him to feel so lost. If giving him a slight push will help, you'll shove this bitch to the ground ‘till he gets it through his skull.
“That might not be the solution though! Are you really su- Wait. What uh, What did you say? Just now, what did you just say...?”
“That you can't change my mind? Cause you really can’t- go ahead, try i-”
“Not that! Don’t play dumb you ass! You said that... That I’m in like with-- with, uh,” he stops afraid of saying the words out loud.
“Don’t ‘iN LIkE’ with me mister, we been knew you liked him.” His eyebrows shoot up and you can feel it in your bones that he’s gonna ask why you didn't say anything. You save him the speech. “I just didn't wanna say too much. I was actually waiting or you to admit it for yourself. Can't believe it took two years but-”
“Three years. Actually no, it'll be four starting in a month or so.”
“Nam--Namjoon, Four years? Four fucking years? Holy shit... Oh my god, holy shit!” You're out of breath. You thought you had him figured out! Making all those namseok accusations you've been making for the last couple months were only to push him admit to you that he liked Hoseok. But for four years?! You had no idea.
“I KNOW!” it looks like his outburst startled even him, his eyes growing wide. He snaps his claps over his mouth in a snap. Then pain over runs his face like he regrets everything he's ever done. Namjoon curls up in a ball, tries his best to collect himself off his kitchen floor and sighs into the crook of his elbow. “I know...I know I'm such an idiot and I should've just said something or done something but I've been stuck in this ringaround of selfishness and desire for far too long and I don't know how to get off. This selfish need of mine gets stronger every time I don't see him. Especially now. Im happy for him, I really am, but this job this is just so long. Can I just feel his radiance again. Even its for a little while… I want him back.”
“Namjoon,” You start. “ You have to tell him sooner or later. You can't keep living like this! When he gets these kinds of jobs you'll have to get through it somehow I think it'll be better if you get this off your chest then keep it in here forever.” You instruct, pointing to your chest where your heart is.
“You're right. M’ sorry for laying this all out on you like this. I just needed to finally tell someone.”
“It's no problem, Namu. How about this? You get your chips picked up, and take those shades off it you want, and we'll go out and I'll buy you anything you want, on me? Deal?”
“I could kiss you if I wasn't falling head over heels for my best friend.”
“I thought I was your best friend?” You pout.
“Youre lucky youre buying me shit or else I’d punch kick you.”
You flash him a smile, taking his arm and leading him to your nearest bus stop.