Seokjin is good at advocating for himself.
It’s a learned skill born from too many formative years spent people-pleasing, an incessant need to be seen as pleasant and easy-going, the please like me, I need everyone to like me thoughts that plagued every social interaction he’s ever had.
Finally, after a long and lengthy conversation with a cold-call insurance provider that he didn’t need but lacked the courage to say otherwise (What if the nice telemarketer lady thought he was rude if he hung up?), he decided enough was enough. No longer would he be pleasant and easy-going! He did not care about 97% of the people around him! He will be leaving the party at exactly 8:30 PM and yes, he knows it’s too early, and yes, he knows it “ruins the mood,” but he does not care!
The new and improved Kim Seokjin had a no-shits-to-give attitude and the face to match it.
That being said…
“...and maybe it was because of my mood that day or maybe it was because of that painting, but I found myself crying. Genuinely, truly crying.” The man confided in him. “It sounds ridiculous I know, but the way the light and shadows worked together…”
…what was happening? Seokjin couldn’t tell you. He checked the time. It has been at least 30 minutes. Should he say something? He should say something.
The man had come barreling into the cafe, panting heavily as he pushed the table a whole 5 centimeters forward in an attempt to sit down. Before Seokjin could complain about how his coffee spilled over, the man had regurgutated (shaking, screaming, crying, throwing up, the whole works) a long-winded story about why he was late to their “date.”
The only problem was: Seokjin did not make plans for a date. He was about to say as much until -
The man smiled: crinkled eyes, cheeks bunched up, dimples.
“Sorry, I’m talking too much - Hoseok warned me about that - wait, I should shut up now...so enough about me. How are you?”
Seokjin’s hand was lost in over stirring his coffee. He hadn’t heard a word.
The man ran a flustered hand through his hair, stray-aways landing attractively around his face.
“...am doing well.”
“I’m such an idiot for making you wait this long. I didn’t think you’d still be here, but I’m happy we both got to meet.” Dimples smiled again.
“Yeah, same here.” Seokjin sipped his coffee. It was bitter with falsehoods and deception.
“Hoseok didn’t tell me much about you honestly,” Dimples informed helpfully, “He said he had a colleague he wanted me to meet. He didn’t even send any pictures.”
“Haha, classic Hoseok.” Seokjin didn’t deserve rights.
“Were you working on something while you were waiting?”
Seokjin had his work station set-up: laptop open with emails, a notebook with scribbled slogans for ad-campaigns, and a pen shaped like a leek. Definitely not something one brings to a blind date.
“Oh, this? I, uh, bring my stuff with me everywhere - you know - just in case.” Seokjin winced. Intro to Improv at Konkuk University did not prepare him enough for this. “It’s a project I’m working on with Hoseok?”
“Ah, is it the one with Louis Vuitton?”
“N-No, the other one? It’s for a sports fishing brand. They want some ideas on slogans.” That part at least is true.
“Hoseok does this kind of stuff too? I thought -”
“- we’re branching out creatively.” Seokjin coughed. Internally, Seokjin’s spirit shook his head in disapproval. What are you doing, you idiot? Dimples took off his cardigan, thick biceps flexing as he did so. His spirit promptly shut the fuck up.
Dimples leaned forward, asking, “Want to run some ideas by me?”
Seokjin instinctively covered up his notebook. Damn, those arms were heavy.
“Really? You want to help me do work on a blind date?”
“Why not? You listened to me talk about art for 30 minutes.”
This was a fair point. Seokjin removed his hand from his notebook and gave Dimples a look of warning.
“This is an advertisement.”
“Which means things will be cheesy.”
“Over the top.”
“I love to see it.”
“Only genuine laughter is allowed.” Seokjin prepared to read his ideas.
“I tend to only laugh when I mean it.” Dimples replied solemnly.
Seokjin nodded and took a deep breath.
“Our fishing gear guarantees big catches.” He glanced at Dimples who gave him a thumbs down. “We’ll hook you up.” Thumbs down again. “All of our traps are good ones.” Dimples gave a neutral thumb.
“How about this?” Dimples sat up straighter, eyes bright, and Seokjin caught himself smiling. “The only catfish that won’t disappoint.”
“Ooo, that’s a good one.” Seokjin laughed, writing it down. “How about ‘We got just the bait?’”
“It goes in the notebook. Gotta catch ‘em all?”
That got a few squeaks out of Seokjin.
They continued this ridiculous conversation until Seokjin stopped writing completely, arm over his stomach to calm his laughter. Dimples laughed behind his hand, at one point slapping the table at Seokjin’s “The fishing store for people who like fishing.”
“That’s literally just a statement???” Dimples wheezed. It made Seokjin laugh harder.
When the laughter died down and there were no more fishing puns to be made, the drop in tension reminded Seokjin of a sobering fact: they were strangers meeting on the foundation of a lie. Dimples had been nothing but charming, funny, and warm. This was bad. If this was a real blind date, he would tell his friends it was going well.
Actually, scratch that. Dimples had laughed just as hard as him over bad puns and dad jokes. He would tell his friends he wanted to marry this man and personally birth all 7 of his babies.
Seokjin had to come clean before it got too far.
“So how did you know it was me? If you didn’t know what I looked like.” Seokjin tried to transition.
Dimples glanced off to the side and coughed into his hand. He seemed shy.
“Hoseok said you were good-looking and you happen to be the prettiest person here. I took my chances.”
The liar (Seokjin) was too stunned to speak.
“You think I’m the prettiest person in the room?” He whispered.
Kim Seokjin: 1
Dimple’s Blind Date: 0
Whatever confession Seokjin was going to make fizzled into nothingness. The new and improved Kim Seokjin would’ve responded with a haughty, “Of course, look at this face!” Maybe thrown in a charming wink for added effect. The ice would’ve been broken and maybe then, Seokjin could admit this was all a misunderstanding and they’d have a big laugh about it.
Instead, Seokjin opened his mouth. Closed it. A fish out of water. The tips of his ears burned until his whole face was red.
“Oh,” He breathed out. He couldn’t look at Dimples. Was physically incapable of doing so. “Y-You should probably order a coffee. The baristas keep looking at you funny.”
The baristas were doing no such thing, but he could see Dimple’s smile grow big and dopey from his reaction. He could not be under more scrutiny or he would never recover. He needed a second to breathe.
Dimples moved swiftly to order and Seokjin watched his impressively built frame as he walked away.
Seokjin immediately took out his phone.
if i went to hell would you go with me?
you already know my answer
Ugh, Yoongi was irritating.
that life is already hell anyways?
im lying about my identity so this hot dude keeps talking to me
the time has come for you to lip-sync for your life
and don't fuck it up
Dimples was back before Seokjin could respond.
“Do you know the baristas here?” He craned his neck (what a strong Adam's Apple) to look back at the counter. “They mentioned you’re a regular and never brought a person with you before.”
“I come every weekend to do some work.” Which might’ve been the first truth Seokjin said to him. “The one with the perm, Taehyung, owns the place. He has an eye for style but he’s a terrible barista.”
Dimples pouted, which was - 😔 - devastating. “I wish you told me that before I ordered a caramel macchiato.”
Seokjin giggled. “His part-timer Jungkook is here today so the drink will come out good.”
“It’s cool you know their names. I always wanted to be a regular somewhere.”
“It’s pretty easy,” Seokjin sipped his coffee. It tasted sweeter. “I come here because I can’t concentrate when I’m at home. I’ll end up playing video games all day.”
Dimples tilted his head quizzically.
“Namjoon-gogaeknim!” Jungkook’s voice called.
Dimples - Namjoon - rose. Seokjin mouthed the name, nodding in silent approval. That was a good name. Strong, classic. It suited him. He wondered what Namjoon thought his name was. Seokjin was going to go to hell.
Namjoon came back with his drink and a cookie. “Service!” He explained excitedly. “We should come here together next time.”
Next time, the words echoed in Seokjin’s mind.
“You mentioned you like to play video games. What do you like to play?”
Seokjin’s fingers did a happy tap against his coffee cup. Next time. Dimples followed the motion, a furrow between his brows.
“I usually play MapleStory. League. A lot of Nintendo games.”
“I used to play when I was a teenager but stopped…” Namjoon leaned back in his chair with a pensive look. “Do you play with Hoseok?”
“Sometimes…” He lied.
“That’s weird.” Namjoon looked him dead in the eyes, “Because Hoseok doesn’t play video games.”
Seokjin stopped tapping his cup.
“His colleague’s name also isn’t Seokjin. It’s Yonghwan.” Namjoon motioned to the name written on his cup.
Seokjin’s spirit completely left his body. His brain turned into static fuzz. Completely smooth. Like chicken breast. Unseasoned. Unsalted. New and improved Kim Seokjin, his fucking ass served on a silver platter.
Namjoon didn’t appreciate his sudden silence. “Why would you lie to me?”
And so Seokjin did the only thing he could think of whenever faced with confrontation: He fought back. Childishly.
“You didn’t give me a chance to explain myself! I listened to you talk for 30 minutes and I couldn’t even breathe edgewise -”
“ - you said you knew Hoseok and played video games with him?”
“And what kind of person goes on a blind date without knowing what the other person looks like -”
“ - that is literally the definition of a blind date -”
“ - then at least exchange numbers! ‘Hey I’m the dude wearing a fucking cardigan in July like a loser -’”
“ - I like this cardigan -”
“ - don’t get me wrong, it is a very nice cardigan, does wonders for your biceps -”
“ - my what?”
“Anyways, the point is!” Seokjin smacked his hand on the table like a judge with a gavel, “I’ve been trying to tell you but I just…I lied! I lied, okay?”
It was silent as Seokjin calmed down, regaining enough sense for mortification and humiliation to kick into his hard drive. Namjoon didn’t say anything, just sat there, no dimples and a clenched jaw.
“Even if I did lie,” Seokjin mumbled, because he was a bitch and Yoongi reminded him of it everyday, “I’m still the prettiest person in this room.”
Namjoon gaped. “Are you serious right now?”
Seokjin turned his nose up. “Am I wrong?”
Namjoon didn’t respond. Seokjin couldn’t even bask in the triumph.
“I’m going to go.” Seokjin got up. He barely brushed past Namjoon’s shoulder before saying one last, “I’m sorry.”
A wide-eyed Taehyung and Jungkook stared after him as he left.
There goes his regular cafe spot.
did you let them have it
no it was a disaster
:( there’s always all stars
Seokjin took the subway for 54 minutes just to press Yoongi’s doorbell and personally show him the middle finger through the intercom.
Seokjin tried going to other cafes in his neighborhood.
One cafe made smoothies non-stop, the sound making his teeth chatter. Another was so busy, Seokjin kept bumping elbows. He kept finding undesirable things about each one. The coffee was too expensive, it was too quiet, too loud, too many kids, pretentiously advertised “No Kids.” He had no other choice.
He stood outside his “regular” cafe, clutching his book bag nervously. He could see Taehyung manning the counter by himself. The coffee would be shit today, but his selection of jazz music always made Seokjin feel motivated and Taehyung had a habit of giving away service in exchange for the bad coffee.
Seokjin took a breath and stepped inside.
“Seokjin-nim!” Taehyung greeted him brightly. “You came! We haven’t seen you for weeks.”
“I’ve been away,” Seokjin lied because that’s apparently all he can do when he steps foot into this cafe.
“It’s good to have you back. The usual?”
“Great! I’ll bring out your order along with your friend’s.”
Seokjin turned cold at this. “My friend’s…?”
“Oh, you guys aren’t here together?” Taehyung motioned behind him.
Seokjin turned his head in increments like a wind-up doll, afraid of what he might see.
There he was: Dimples - Namjoon.
Seokjin whipped his head back. This must be his imagination. Why would Namjoon be here? Out of all the days in the weeks, months in a year, the thousands upon trillions of cafes in all of Korea, and he chose here?
Where the drinks suck?
“Hey!” Taehyung snapped.
Seokjin covered his mouth. He didn’t mean to say that aloud.
Namjoon sat at the same table, which is to say, Seokjin’s favorite table. It was tucked into a corner with an outlet, just far enough from the door to avoid the draft. Taehyung already started on his drink. It was too late to back down now.
New and improved Kim Seokjin, he thought bitterly to himself as he turned around and approached the man.
Here’s the plan: Act like a civilized human being. Apologize for his behavior. Come to an agreement to never speak of the incident again and perhaps negotiate that Namjoon find a new cafe to spend his time at. Wallow in despair later that night to mourn the loss and accept his fate of dying beautiful and alone.
And so, with determination, Seokjin marched up to Namjoon’s table and squared his shoulders with a deep breath.
“What do you think you’re doing here?” He hissed.
Admittedly not the best start.
Namjoon glanced up at him and was shocked, blinking as if he wasn’t real. He shot up, spilling his coffee that marginally escaped pouring over his laptop. Namjoon cursed, using his bare hands to capture the spill, while Seokjin scoffed, “Jesus Christ, what is wrong with you?”
He put down his bookbag and went to the counter where Taehyung wordlessly gave him a rag cloth. It seemed he was familiar with this.
Seokjin cleaned the mess with three swift swipes of the cloth while Namjoon watched him, hands dripping coffee like some kind of murderer with a caffeine MO. Seokjin motioned to the washroom with his chin. Namjoon made a small “ah” sound, like the thought hadn’t occurred to him.
Seokjin sat down, frowning so deeply, he felt the pull on his cheeks.
Even through all of that, how was Namjoon so unbearably endearing?
Namjoon came back, hands clean, and sat across from him. They didn’t say anything, didn’t even make eye contact with each other. Seokjin felt the inner linings of his stomach twist.
“You said you come here every weekend.” Namjoon said. “But you haven’t been here since we’ve met.”
“Yeah, well,” Seokjin’s shoulders tensed, “I didn’t leave this cafe on the best of terms last time.”
“Neither did I.” Namjoon agreed.
“So why are you back here then?” Seokjin risked looking at him.
“I don’t know. I guess I just..." Namjoon met his eyes, hesitant and shy. “I couldn’t stop thinking about how you’re the prettiest person in the room.”
Seokjin took a breath and held it. Namjoon's eyes shined. Taehyung called out his name. Neither of them moved. Taehyung called them again and Seokjin dropped his head into his arms. His forehead made a loud thud sound on the table.
“Can you please get it?” Seokjin’s voice muffled through his sleeve.
“Oh, yeah, uh-huh," Namjoon sounded affected, "I’ll get it, ah,” The table shook, Namjoon probably hit his hip on the corner, “Aish-” and his voice faded.
Seokjin didn’t lift up his head. He took deep breaths. His heart raced. His face was going to burn through his sleeves.
Seokjin had just blushed in front of Namjoon.
Very, very hard.
He tried to think of disgusting, non-heart fluttering things to get himself to calm down. His chest beating, the flutter in his stomach, the thrill he felt down his bones - Seokjin thudded a gentle fist onto the table.
Damn that dimpley Namjoon.
“I asked them for a cold water bottle if you need it.” The table shook again when Namjoon placed the tray down. “Are you okay? Is it capillary congestion…?”
“I don’t have erythema!” Seokjin snapped, face still buried. Then, after a beat: "It’s just something I do. I turn red. I blush easily."
“I see.” Namjoon cleared his throat. Why did he sound so pleased? Asshole. There was the sound of Namjoon tossing something between his hands. “Maybe this will help?”
Ice-cold hands suddenly cupped his burning ears. Seokjin’s breath hitched, a gasp stuck in his throat, as he snapped his neck up. Namjoon’s face was close, elbows resting on the table as he leaned in. His hands, cold and a little wet, did little to help with Seokjin’s condition.
Not with their faces being that close together - him being the sole attention of Namjoon’s searching, concerned eyes.
The heel of his hands unintentionally bundled Seokjin’s cheeks together. His hands were large and strong. Namjoon’s lips parted. Seokjin felt his heart leap to uvula.
And Namjoon -
Namjoon pffted. Seokjin immediately became indignant.
“Unleash me.” He demanded.
“Not unless we talk about what happened calmly, like adults.”
“Fine. Now unleash me.”
Namjoon removed himself, the distance between them tragically widened.
Seokjin took the water bottle (Is that what he was tossing around?) and pressed it against his cheek. He swore he heard a sizzle when it made contact. Damn his treacherous body. There was a wolf inside of him and it’s name was Brutus.
“I’m sorry for lying to you. I didn’t do it to make fun of you, I’m just..” Seokjin bit the inside of his cheek.
“...a pathological liar?”
Seokjin looked to the side and crossed his arms.
“...a bored psychopath?”
“Don’t make me guess multiple personality disorder because that’s a punching down kind of joke.”
“I just wanted to talk to you more!” He nearly shouted, frustrated. "You seemed cool and I wanted to talk to you more."
The quiet after was humiliating. Namjoon preened. Seokjin hated that.
“Cool,” Namjoon breathed out, dimples showing. “I want to talk to you more too. So can we try this again and this time only tell each other the truth?”
He did that thing again, where he ran a hand through his hair, biceps showing through his t-shirt. Seokjin hardly heard a word.
“So my name is Kim Namjoon. I work as a counselor in a community center. I was born in 1994. I enjoy art. I eat my cereal crunchy. I break more things than I can fix.”
Seokjin felt embarrassed. Partially because this was incredibly cheesy. Mostly because he really liked being cheesy.
“My name is Kim Seokjin. I work at an advertising firm. I was born in 1992. I will never allow you to speak informally to me. I eat my cereal soggy. I haven’t burped since 2007.”
Namjoon processed that information. “I feel like you’re still lying.”
“Don’t gaslight me."
Namjoon smiled: crinkled eyes, cheeks bunched up, dimples.
“Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“So they have to lip-sync in order to stay in the competition?”
Yoongi munched on chips, sitting crossed-legged on the couch. Seokjin situated himself between Namjoon’s legs, using that extra centimeter of height to his full advantage as he leaned on Namjoon’s chest. His shoulders were broader but Namjoon didn’t complain. He rested his chin in the crook of his neck and Seokjin sighed happily when he felt his strong arms wrap around his waist. They’d been dating for 2 months. Seokjin was on Cloud Nine.
“But that’s kind of unfair, isn’t it? They should be scored cumulatively. Weeks of hard work boils down to 2 minutes of mouthing words and dancing?"
Seokjin patted Namjoon’s thigh supportively. Eventually, he will learn that RuPaul's word is law. The three of them watched Denali and Kahmora lip-sync to 100% Pure Love. It was graphically violent, the way Denali murdered Kahmora on camera.
“You’re not wrong but you’re also not right.” Yoongi settled on saying.
They watched two more episodes before Yoongi yawned and excused himself from Seokjin’s apartment. “See you next week,” Yoongi promised as he left because Namjoon had admitted he’s never heard of RuPaul’s Drag Race before and it left Yoongi so appalled, he swore he would never approve of their union if Namjoon didn’t watch the essentials.
“You guys really like Drag Race.” Namjoon said into his neck when Yoongi left. Another episode was playing on the screen but neither of them paid attention. The privacy Yoongi left behind was full of promises.
“I like it because Yoongi likes it. Yoongi likes fishing because I like fishing. We have a mutual agreement.” Seokjin explained.
“You two should meet Hoseok. I think he’ll like the show. I wonder if I should look into drag more. It would really help some of the people I work with at the center, especially the LGBT kids, who really struggle. Oh! Let’s go to a drag show sometime. Maybe I can get one of the queens to come to the center and teach drag to them? We have to bring Yoongi though - I don’t know anything about -”
Seokjin felt the press of Namjoon’s chest against his back. How his lower back pressed perfectly in the space between his legs. He was doing that thing when he rambled, where his hands started to subconsciously wander over Seokjin’s body as his brain ran its course.
Seokjin straightened and turned around until he was straddling Namjoon’s lap. He put two hands on the edge of the couch, effectively caging Namjoon in.
Seokjin didn’t hear a word.
“You came pretty hard last night. You want me to fuck you like that again?”
Namjoon twitched between them. Seokjin grinned.
On the screen, RuPaul asked, “Can I get an amen?”
Seokjin had Namjoon under him, head thrown back in a moan.
“A-fucking-men,” Seokjin agreed.
(On their 100th Day Anniversary, Namjoon rented a private yacht with fishing gear sponsored by Big Bass Inc., the fishing store for people who like fishing. Namjoon sucked at fishing but something he was good at…
“You know what they call this?” He purred in Seokjin’s ear.
Seokjin was bent over, arms on the rail as he looked out onto endless blue. Something heavy and promising pushed against him. The fishing line started to shake. He pretended not to see.
His voice was shaky when he asked, “What?”
“The deadliest catch.”
Seokjin’s laughter was cut short by a surprised pleasure-filled moan.
He’ll let you figure out what happened.)
“Oh, he is much better looking than Yonghwan.” Hoseok reaffirmed when they first met.
Kim Seokjin: 2
“Did you tell Yonghwan how sorry I am?” Namjoon winced.
“Only the first 33 times you reminded me to.” Hoseok shook his head. “30 minutes late to a blind date? Really Namjoon?”
“It sounds ridiculous I know but I didn’t expect to get trapped in that exhibit. The lights and shadows worked together in a way that -”
“ - we get it!” Hoseok and Seokjin stopped him. They made eye contact with an “o” expression and high-fived. Yoongi was instantly demoted to #2 Best Friend in Seokjin’s life.
Their dinner was casual and fun. It seemed against Hoseok’s nature for it to be anything otherwise. The man told stories of their college years, which made Namjoon flustered and dimply the entire night. Namjoon quietly sipped on his beer, nothing but warmth and sincerity in his eyes as the man spoke, and Seokjin felt a tight pinching in his chest.
“I’m going to go to the bathroom.” Namjoon got out of his seat. He sat on the same side as Hoseok. As he walked past, he pressed a kiss into Seokjin’s hair.
Hoseok looked gleefully scandalized.
“Oh, he’s obsessed with you.”
“Is he? I don’t think so.” Seokjin failed to sound humble.
“I only set him up on that blind date because he has zero sense in these kinds of things. He hadn’t met anyone in three years. Maybe it was a good thing he didn’t meet Yonghwan. You’re a way better candidate.” Hoseok leaned forward, whispering, “I actually don’t think Yonghwan is that great but he’s young, cute, and ambidextrous.”
“Well, I have great control of my toes.” Seokjin bragged.
“Keep that information to yourself, please.”
“Oh, another thing before I forget,” Hoseok downed the rest of his glass and beckoned Seokjin to come closer. Hoseok cupped his ear. He whispered, voice like venom:
“If I even see a single teardrop out of Namjoon because of you, I will hunt you down and ruin you. I may seem like this but I can cause you suffering in ways your handsome little brain cannot imagine. Always remember: I know how to break pretty boys like you.”
Namjoon came back to the table. Hoseok removed himself and lifted his arms to do a cute little dance to welcome his friend back. Heart-shaped smile, high-pitched giggles, aegyo for the table. Seokjin froze in his seat, ear still facing them as his bones turned to ice.
“Jin, are you okay?” Namjoon asked.
“I’m totally fine,” Seokjin caught sight of Hoseok’s glare, “Darling. Sweetie. Love. Have I told you how much I appreciate you?”
“Haha, you’re so cute when you’re drunk,” Namjoon cooed, pinching his cheek.
“Not as cute as you,” Seokjin forced out a laugh.
When he brought his glass to his lips, his hand could not stop shaking.
(“They have a new part-timer.”
Seokjin looked over his shoulder. Jungkook was explaining how to use the espresso machine to the new person. He read his nametag.
“I hope Jimin makes better lattes than Taehyung.”
“I think anyone can make better lattes than Taehyung.”
“I am right here!” Taehyung stomped his foot. He was cleaning the table next to them with a rag.
“Sorry Taehyung. You know we love this cafe.”
“Oh, here he comes! Hide, hide!” Namjoon motioned for them to duck. Taehyung immediately dropped to the floor.
Seokjin moved to join Namjoon in the booth. They were shielded by the wall so new customers couldn’t see them. He nudged Taehyung and whispered, “Not you. You own the place.”
“Why are we hiding?” Taehyung asked from under their table.
“We set up our two friends on a blind date and we’re spying.”
Taehyung joined them in the booth and three meerkat-like eyes peeked from the wall to see Hoseok look around the cafe. He ordered coffee and a slice of cake (Seokjin nodded in approval. Always good to have food on the ready.), then sat at the table nearest to the door.
Yoongi came in shortly after, scanned the cafe, and made eye contact with Hoseok. They held it for a long moment before Hoseok stood up and bowed, introducing himself. Yoongi did the same.
“I can’t hear what they’re saying,” Namjoon complained.
“The small one is frowning a lot. Is that a good sign?” Taehyung asked.
“That’s how he usually is. As long as he -” Seokjin stopped.
Hoseok laughed at something Yoongi said, his giggles echoing through the cafe. He genuinely laughed. As if Yoongi said something extremely funny. Seokjin’s mouth dropped. Yoongi’s reaction was more or less the same.
Then Yoongi dropped his head and gummy smiled shyly.
Hook, line, and sinker.
Seokjin and Namjoon stood up, looked at each other like proud parents. They embraced in a dramatic and victorious hug.
“Shantay, you stay." Namjoon fist-pumped the air.)
For their 300th Day Anniversary, Seokjin bought them tickets to London for an art exhibit. They were in a lavish hotel. It drizzled outside. They ordered room service and bought a bottle of wine. Seokjin’s legs kept squirming from Namjoon’s constant ravishing. The food went cold.
The next morning, they went to the exhibit. Namjoon went on an in-depth analysis on everything around him, looking so happy in his mini-lessons and explanations. His hands quickened it’s movements as he got more passionate, his voice went high-pitched and excited, his eyes kept seeking Seokjin’s for validation: Is this alright? Are you having fun? I’m not boring you, am I?
Seokjin followed him, smitten and head over heels.
And maybe it was his mood that day or maybe it was the beautiful art surrounding him, but when Namjoon turned to him - that dimpled smile, those sincere eyes - Seokjin realized again:
He was deeply in love.
“Still the prettiest in the room,” Namjoon kissed his cheek when no one was looking.
Seokjin turned away and blinked back the burning in his eyes, blaming his allergies.
The way the lights and shadows worked together…
Yeah. Seokjin can see it now.