Chapter Text
When Namjoon woke up the next morning, it was still dark. After Yoongi had deposited him back into the flat, the rest of the night had been a disoriented blur. Namjoon only remembered loafing around the apartment. He had responded to every picture Seokjin sent him with a heart emoji so he could continue to remain wordless (a very uncharacteristic situation for Namjoon to be in, if he were to be completely honest). That small red icon now meant something more than just loyalty and support – but what else was love if not those two elements freely given again and again, without prompting or needing anything in return? Namjoon was overpowered by the simultaneous feelings of triumph and despair. He loved Seokjin! How lucky he was to be able to do so! How awful it was that they were separated!
He curled up tighter on his side, burying his face into the puffy duvet and inhaling deeply. A clean, soft scent filled his nose, a very familiar one that his sleep-muddled mind had yet to identify but from it, a sense of comfort spread through Namjoon’s body. He reached over for his phone and smacked his knuckles against the bedside table. It was higher than expected. Namjoon frowned and opened his eyes, squinting at all the little toys lined up in cubby holes along the wall–
Oh. This was Seokjin’s room. He had fallen asleep in Seokjin’s bed. In his outside clothes. Whoops?
Namjoon pulled off all the sheets and threw them in the wash before he could forget, then pulled on his sneakers to get outside and clear his head as much as possible. He trotted through the sleepy city streets, nothing but the sound of his footfalls on concrete and steady labour of breathing.
Nothing Yoongi had said was new, really. Namjoon and Seokjin were famously very different people. This was their entire backstory. To comment on their opposing natures was standard for anyone who ever met them and honestly, becoming quite stale since there was very little variation on the phrasing. If anything, the people who liked to compare them were the ones making it all a cliche! Like… like a romantic comedy.
Except Namjoon couldn’t be too much offended. Those films were always lively, funny, and had happy endings. He would accept that gladly! Well, maybe not all the misunderstandings and stress that always preceded such a happy ending. Seokjin could never bear those scenes anyway; the secondhand embarrassment was just too much for him. Luckily, they had gone through that stage already. Wait. But if that was so, then they were now at…
The dramatic declaration, Yoongi had called it. Namjoon heard the ghostly barks of victorious laughter echoing through his mind.
How was he going to do it though? Because while he adored Seokjin – now acknowledged, this could only be a universal truth, a fact of life and core tenet of Namjoon’s existence – who was he to assume the reverse? Seokjin was kind and caring, compassionate by nature even if it was performed in reserve: the way he treated his students was one example, and the way he looked out for Namjoon was another. They were in each other’s lives forever, but as best friends! He couldn’t expect something more, even if everyone else imagined it for him.
He was in love with Kim Seokjin, but that didn’t mean Seokjin was also in love with him back…
Once Namjoon got home, the acute absence of Seokjin was staggering. No fuzzy sweaters slung over chair backs, no half-demolished packets of gummies left on the coffee table, nearly nothing left as time did away with even the most lingering of scents. Under the shower, little gold hairs accumulated in the drain from the rivulets of water that ran down Namjoon’s arms and back, soggy and limp like his hopes and dreams, no longer bolstered by endorphins surging through his system while he had been panting up and down the streets.
He was, like usual, just a big dumb hopeless puppy. Zero concept of doing anything by halves, even if it hurt him in the end.
The flat was empty and sad and Namjoon curled up on the bed again, feeling very very abandoned. Work was impossible in such circumstances. It was late afternoon when Namjoon looked out to the fading skies with a sense of deep embarrassment, but also of hunger. With no more food in the apartment, the only option was to leave it. For convenience’s sake, he didn’t go any further than the chain grill restaurant on the corner. Namjoon was eventually seated at the bar, his chin leaned into a fist as he waited for his burger when somebody tapped him on the shoulder.
“You’re Namjoon, right?”
Namjoon looked behind, then down at a petite young man sporting a blond bowl cut who wasn’t trying very hard to conceal his excitement.
“Hi! My name is Jimin. I work with Seokjin at the school.”
Namjoon’s ears perked in recognition. “Yeah, of course!” Seokjin’s introversion persisted in his professional life too, but he had made a few friends amongst the school staff. Every once in a while, the daily ramble about his day would include very hot tea involving his colleagues. Jimin’s name came up fairly regularly, but mostly as an ally in the frustrations against a very out-of-touch administrative team. He now beamed up at Namjoon with crescent-shaped eyes, extending a hand eagerly. While Jimin’s fingers were shorter than Namjoon’s, the grip was unexpectedly strong. Namjoon’s whole arm was pumped up and down.
“Not at camp this week?”
“Nah, my kids are Y2s. Tiny and adoooorable,” Jimin said, as if these adjectives could not apply to him as well. He perched up on a stool next to Namjoon and ordered a martini. Jimin turned out to be very good conversation: the arrival of food revealed Namjoon’s ineptitude with cooking, to which Jimin laughed and sympathised with. He spoke reverently of Seokjin’s occasional contributions to school picnics and parties, which of course began an entire praise parade.
“He’s such a great teacher! My students already can’t wait to be in his class, although it’s going to take a few years. All they know is that if they say hi to funny Mr Kim, he’s going to make a terrible joke – and when you’re only 6, that is the epitome of humour.”
“It’s so bad that it’s good!”
“Yes, exactly!” Jimin waved excitedly. “Tae! Come here. Meet Namjoon!”
A man who had just entered the restaurant now ambled over. Shiny rose-tinted aviators perched atop curly brown ears that were nearly obscured in his curly brown hair that framed his face like a dandelion that had been dunked in chocolate milk. The poodle hybrid reached them and gave Namjoon a deep, friendly sniff. Jimin happily introduced them: Taehyung, who was an assistant in the school nurse’s office, and Namjoon, Seokjin’s Namjoon!
“I know,” Taehyung replied calmly, to Jimin’s visible disappointment which quickly transformed into glee when he clarified: “He smells like him.”
Namjoon remembered the rumpled bedsheets he had forgotten to transfer to the dryer and hoped he wasn’t blushing too hard. “I mean, we are roommates.”
“Oh my god, Tae, they are roommates!”
It had been a while since Namjoon had to retell the story of his and Seokjin’s beginnings to someone, but both Jimin and Taehyung were an attentive audience. Jimin was very expressive, making sure to nod, laugh, and gasp at all the key moments while Taehyung hardly moved, head tilted to the side.
“Yep, that sounds like our Jin-hyung. He never wants to go out with us, even if it’s been a week where you really need a drink after the kids leave.” Taehyung clinked his strawberry daiquiri with Jimin’s martini. “Even weeks when he’s really needed it.”
“Well, ever since we found out what’s waiting at home, who can blame him?” Jimin bared his teeth in a terrifying, yet still cute grin. “For a long time, all he said was that he had a puppy who needed attention. I thought he meant an actual puppy but a few weeks ago, I saw that photo and was like – wait, the puppy’s a grown man?”
“A big grown man,” Taehyung added, little puffball of a tail bouncing back and forth.
“What? What photo?”
“He’s got a photo of you in the drawer of his desk. You’re on a bicycle looking across the river from a bridge.”
That was on Namjoon’s birthday about two years ago. He didn’t remember Seokjin taking any pictures, though.
“If he keeps it in the desk, how did you know about it?” Taehyung asked, saving Namjoon the awkwardness.
“He hoards the best stapler on the first floor. I just wanted to borrow it for a while!”
Namjoon was rescued by his phone buzzing on the countertop, and when he flipped it over, saw a notification from Seokjin. Jimin and Taehyung leaned in immediately.
The video file was less than a minute long. Seokjin held the phone away from where he was seated at the front of a canoe clad in a wide-brimmed straw hat and a bright yellow safety vest. “Hey, Namjoon-ah!” He began before nearly dropping the phone. “Ah! Okay. Namjoon,” he started again before everything dipped to the right. “Jungkook!” Seokjin yelled, and he turned around. His hat obscured most of the person seated behind him, but Namjoon could still see the whip of a fluffy black and white tail and hear high-pitched giggles as the water rippled on only one side of the canoe when a wooden oar splashed repeatedly into it. Seokjin wobbled and grumbled. “Sorry, Joonie. I need to row or else I’m stuck in circles with this guy. But I just wanted to show you–”
He turned the phone around to reveal the unblemished expanse of the lake, a pristine rich turquoise set with glittering diamonds across the surface from dazzling sunshine. There was certainly a healthy wind as the trees lining the far shore rustled their evergreen branches, as if they were waving to Namjoon on Seokjin’s behalf.
“Isn’t it beautiful? Sorry you couldn’t be here, you’d appreciate it way better than me. And, you’d be a way better canoe partner than this brat. He’s hellbent on making me motion sick with his stupid circles.”
“Then maybe you should start rowing instead of calling your boyfriend in the middle of a lake!”
“JUNGKOOK,” Seokjin bellowed again before the screen cut to black.
Jimin sighed, making Namjoon startle. He had nearly forgotten the others were there. “Aw, they look like they’re having lots of fun!”
“He didn’t send it to us,” Taehyung whined.
“We can’t all be as lucky as Namjoon,” Jimin said, smiling, or was it smirking? Then it softened into something genuine and kind. “You’re really important to him, you know.”
Namjoon did know. Jimin was right; they weren’t all as lucky as he was. He bid his new acquaintances a good night and went home, flopping onto the sofa when he got there. He tried to parse this newly received knowledge: Seokjin kept a picture of him at work? Whatever for?
The clock only said 6:30, so it was time to be distracted by TV and short form social media until Namjoon was jolted out of a snooze by an unpleasant buzzing sound. He rolled over to peer down at his phone on the coffee table.
Video call from Seokjin
Namjoon dived to answer it. “Jin-hyung!”
“Hey,” came Seokjin’s voice in a stage whisper. He was somewhere in darkness with the screen itself being the only light source. It was enough for the only visual of importance: Seokjin’s face, which at this angle looked pale and filled with odd shadows like those across his forehead from his hair, made spiky-sharp with dampness from his usual nighttime shower. Seokjin’s eyes darted around offscreen in caution. “Can’t be too loud, the kids are asleep.”
“Jin-hyung!”
“Hey, Namjoon-ah!”
“JIN-HYUNG!”
“Shhhh!” But there was squeaky laughter, and Namjoon might be tearing up at the sound of it. “Anyway, did you get my video?”
“Yeah! Thanks for sharing with me.”
Seokjin smiled. Now that the shock and excitement was wearing off, Namjoon was getting a bit concerned. “Is everything alright? Why are you calling?”
“Oh, things are fine here. Suspiciously so. Not that I want something to go wrong! Just…” Seokjin inhaled and exhaled audibly, and Namjoon ached with not being able to lean against him in support. “Wanting to hear you. I mean, from you. So, how’s it going?”
“Okay.”
“Just okay? That means bad.”
“It’s not all bad,” Namjoon whined, and he was rewarded with another huff of amusement. “I’m getting work done.”
“And ruining the sofa?”
Namjoon looked down at the bite marks in the armrest. “...no.”
“Don’t forget I can talk to Hobi and Yoongi too. They’ve been around, right?”
“Yeah. And, I met two of your coworkers today. Jimin and Taehyung.”
“What?” Seokjin squawked, forgetting to be quiet himself. “How?”
Namjoon explained the coincidental restaurant meeting, carefully leaving out the part where Jimin had so casually talked about rooting through Seokjin’s desk. He could sense Seokjin’s mild panic even as he joked about their alcohol intake and unending attempts to get him to go drinking with them.
“They were really friendly and nice!”
“Yeah, they are.” Seokjin paused for a moment. “See, I knew you’d be okay on your own. Go out and make a thousand new friends, no need for me.”
“No! I miss you!”
“Well, fine, because I miss you too. Probably more.”
“That’s not even possible.”
“Yes, it is. Because you’re at home. I miss home. I miss the sofa. I miss my bed..”
“There, that’s the truth. You miss home. You don’t miss me.”
“What?” Seokjin sounded genuinely surprised, and a little hurt. “You don’t really mean that. I’m the one who called you!”
“Uh, Mr Kim?”
There was a loud rustle, and the screen went black as Seokjin likely pressed it against some fabric, confirmed when Namjoon heard a muffled, “Aaron, what are you doing out of bed? It’s lights out!” at the same time the little voice piped up, “What are you doing? Who’s that?” Then, there was a beat of silence before Aaron gasped, “Oh! Are you talking to your husband?”
“Husband?” Namjoon echoed, but he was cut off by the screen violently shaking in a burst of sudden light and colours. There was a loud THUNK followed by a scuffle he could not follow, save for the fact that both adult and child squealed with dismay and surprise.
“Hey, Liam! LIAM! I told you! It’s him!”
The screen finally came into focus. Namjoon caught a glimpse of the disorganised cabin: water bottles crammed on top of a folding table and velcro sneakers littered around bunk beds, upon which hung gaping backpacks. Blanket burritos lay rolled up upon each thin mattress. Some were still perfectly stationary, but one or two had begun to wiggle from the commotion. The screen wobbled a few times, then bright blue husky eyes peered down at Namjoon in fascination.
The sight swiftly swished out of view as Seokjin, no doubt, snatched back the phone and covered the camera. “Boys,” he said in his stern teacher tone, “don’t forget that tomorrow’s the big hike and barbeque, then we’re going to be setting up our tents. You will need to be well rested for those activities.”
“But you’re not sleeping,” came a second little voice, undoubtedly the infamous Liam.
“I am as superhuman in strength and stamina as I am in handsomeness,” came the blunt reply, and Namjoon had to join in the children’s giggles. “I thrive upon the complaints of kids who didn’t get enough sleep.”
“He’s a vampire! Vampire Mr Kim!”
“Correct. Now go forth and be unconscious for the next seven hours, ye puny mortals.”
There was a lively shuffle as the boys returned to their bunks, then a pause before the sound of footfalls and the creak of a door hinge. Eventually, Seokjin lifted the phone again to reveal himself perched on the cabin porch. “My mistake for doing that inside.”
“It’s okay. They were cute.” And so was Seokjin, face much clearer and golden underneath the lamp’s glow. Namjoon’s heart hammered against his ribcage. Now that he recognised what these feelings actually were, it was torture. He needed to say something else. “Why did your student think I was your husband?”
Everything stilled into an awkward silence for a few seconds. Seokjin looked away from the phone, and Namjoon could see a flush of red creeping up his neck. “They’re always asking me if I’m married,” he finally said. “And when I said no, they kept insisting that I should be. Then some kids found the photo – I have this picture of you in my desk, okay, you just look really good in it and I was proud of taking it – and I was like fine, you caught me. There he is. Aaron is very excited that you’re a dog, by the way, which is why he’s always trying to learn more about you. That little snoop.”
Well, at least Namjoon didn’t have to pretend he didn’t know about the photo anymore.
“I’m so sorry, it was easier than denying and anyway, it’s like, half true?” Seokjin was rambling now. “Like, who else could I live with for the rest of my life? In what universe would I pick anyone over you? A lot of them, I guess, if we’re really thinking about it, but not this one!”
Namjoon’s ears perked up, and his tail slowly started to wag, only picking up speed as the speech continued: “Please don’t take this the wrong way. It’s just so easy for you, you get along with anyone you see but for me, it takes a little longer to be comfortable. So, I didn’t figure things out for a long time. And then, I didn’t want to mess up what we already have because it’s so good – I mean, it’s why I feel the way I do – and like I said, you get along with everyone so who was I to think I was anyone special?”
Alarm flooded through Namjoon at the possibility that Seokjin did not know how singularly important he was. “You are special to me!”
“Aren’t you going to ask why I even have a picture of you in my desk?”
“Because you love me.” The answer came so easily, so quickly, and for Namjoon now, so obviously. “And I love you too!”
Seokjin gaped at him. His beautiful dark eyes had become round and wide, and his perfect plump lips fell apart in surprise. “Seriously?” he squeaked. “This is how we’re doing this? Confession on video call?”
“Yeah, I guess!”
Seokjin threw his head back and laughed, almost hysterically. “Oh my god. We are so stupid!”
“We’re stupid and in love!”
“Yeah, but when did this even start?”
“I dunno.” It didn’t matter when it began. It had been so long out in the open, needing only a sharp elbow nudge to the ribs (or, in this case, dropping a few basketballs) for them to see it. Namjoon was grateful for his friends, and for Seokjin’s colleagues. Why would he be embarrassed at needing that much help? He always needed help! And, it fit the vibe! After all, they were a romantic comedy!
But a mere romantic comedy was a tad too simple a description for their relationship. Namjoon and Seokjin were two different people who had worked hard to become close, not from a series of miraculously coincidental events but from years of struggle and experience. That was how they had learned to be different too – tacitly agreeing to change some parts of themselves for the other, almost like taking in a little bit of the other to grow into a more balanced individual who then learned to love what they originally thought was impossible to love. Really, the real form of love! Try saying that ten times fast.
That was all that he needed. Someone who could see, and like, and eventually love the many parts of your being, and be there through all of them. That comfort and trust would be so much better than any cinematic drama. Namjoon wanted that.
He did have that. On his tiny phone screen, Seokjin grinned with the same giddy delight that made Namjoon squirm on the sofa because how could one stay still with this much joy coursing through one’s system? There was no other euphoria!
Seokjin rubbed his face and sighed, complaining about how his cheeks hurt from laughing now and he was going to regret staying up so late tomorrow. Namjoon urged him to go to sleep. Seokjin’s wellbeing was the most important thing in the world!
“You too,” Seokjin reminded him, and how could Namjoon disobey? Especially when Seokjin blew a kiss to the camera. “Goodnight, Joonie.”
The best night he’d had in a long time!
The next day was Thursday. Namjoon’s final Seokjin-less day. It was going to be beautiful, Namjoon could tell even when he leaped out of Seokjin’s bed before the sun had risen. The morning air was cool, sure to warm as the day grew longer but Namjoon welcomed it gladly as he raced around the country park, the grass around him long and bright green from the healthy watering they had received the night before. He ran up the small hill and spun around in dizzying circles, energy and excitement pouring off his limbs but with nobody to share it with! What a ridiculous problem to have! But it was going to be for the last time!
He returned home in record time, attacked his work tasks with fervour, and when Hoseok arrived for lunch, was the one who dragged him back outside.
“Whoa,” Hoseok said, blinking through his sunglasses at the food trucks around him. He looked down at the receipt in his hand that confirmed he had indeed ordered a lemonade and spicy fish tacos, then shrugged. “Is everything good, Namjoon?”
“It’s great! It’s awesome! It’s amazing!”
Hoseok smiled, tucking his fingers into his elbows as he folded his arms. “Just imagine what it’s going to be like tomorrow when he’s finally here, then.”
Namjoon could barely do so. Somehow, the time passed until it was Friday, 2 PM, and he stood there at the gates of the school amongst plenty of parents who hardly gave him another glance as they also fidgeted with their phones and watches. There was a sense of urgency and eagerness in the air. Everyone was counting down the seconds until the inevitable reunion with their key person – Namjoon would have basked in the collective empathy of it all was he not so concentrated on what he needed to do.
He had to remember to be calm and collected, most rational and considerate of Seokjin’s role here. He was still on the clock and responsible for his students until they were firmly in the grasp of their designated caretakers and officially dismissed. Namjoon considered hiding for a moment so as not to distract Seokjin at all, but when the parents around him began to stir, that thought flew from his mind like a startled pigeon.
Three large yellow schoolbuses were rounding the corner and drawing up to the school. Children’s faces could already be seen in the windows, their noses and hands smushed against the glass with mouths moving in shouts of laughter and exclamation even if none of them outside could hear it yet.
Seokjin was in one of them. He was here. He was here!
The doors folded open. Students came tumbling out of the buses, dragging their duffels and suitcases behind them with ungainly bumps on every step of the stair. The driveway became crowded with staff hurrying to corral the students into some semblance of organisation so they could properly deliver them into the right set of loving outstretched arms, even as the kids wriggled in their teachers’ grasps – oh, how Namjoon understood the feeling!
His heart stuttered when a familiar figure finally appeared in the second bus’s doorway: same ball cap, track jacket and sweatpants from the last Namjoon had seen him. Seokjin moved to the front of the crowd and waved parents over to pick up their children. While the absolute focus of it all did amplify his most attractive qualities, Namjoon felt a silly sense of dejection that such focus was not on him.
Eventually, the last child had been permitted to leave the queue. Seokjin sighed and looked up. His eyes roved the crowd mechanically until they finally landed on Namjoon, who really could not take it any more and took off at a sprint past confused and mildly alarmed families. He didn’t care about that, because Seokjin had seen him, and was smiling, and holding out his arms–
“Namjoon!” Seokjin gasped, between his own laughter and struggles to sit up beneath the significant weight of a fully grown golden retriever hybrid that had barrelled directly into him. “Yes, I’m here now. So stop crying!”
“I CAN’T! I MISSED YOU!”
“AND I MISSED YOU TOO, but let me breathe!”
It took Seokjin grabbing Namjoon by the waist and hauling him to the side before Namjoon sat back on his haunches, wiping at his eyes. “Sorry! I’m sorry. But I feel a lot of–”
“When do you not have too many feelings?” Seokjin griped, but affection won over frustration as he cupped Namjoon’s face before bringing their lips together, at last .
“LIAM! LIAM, LOOK. IT’S MR KIM’S HUSBAND! And they’re KISSING!” howled a young husky, his own white-tipped tail a mere blur. He shook his friend beside him until the boy slowly turned in his cumbersome shell.
“Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeewwwwww!” chorused their classmates in unadulterated delight.
“Excuse me!” Jimin came gliding majestically through the throng, lanyard around his neck and arms stretched before him in an authoritative and benevolent manner. “Please keep moving. People need to go home!” He winked at Seokjin and Namjoon before herding the fascinated children away.
And home was only 20 minutes by train. It felt shorter, perhaps from the earlier hour of the day or just because Namjoon’s tail could not stop wagging, not even when it accidentally whacked a woman in the knee as he stood next to her on the platform. The scowl she sent his way could not dampen his spirits, because he was loved by the best person in the world.
They walked into the flat hand in hand – only letting go to help unstick the roller suitcase’s wheels from the crack in the elevator door – and soon it was his favourite time again, curled up on the sofa with some animated movie playing out on the TV. Namjoon didn’t even know what it was, or what food they were eating as he leaned his head onto Seokin’s arm and listened to that beloved voice, a familiar tone which ranged from wistfully fond (the kids’ reaction to a sky full of stars for the very first time, their innocence and wonder and honesty) to exasperatedly fond (Liam dropping no less than three marshmallows into the BBQ pit of which only two of them had originally been on his fork, meaning he just tossed one in to see what would happen).
It was nearly midnight when Namjoon trailed after Seokjin into his bedroom, hovering in the doorway sheepishly when Seokjin pulled back the covers and arched his eyebrows at the little blond hairs littering the sheets. Then, he shrugged. “Come on, then.” Seokjin plopped down and patted the pillow beside him.
“But I didn’t shower!” Namjoon was already burrowing into the blankets.
“I’ve now shared a tent with four boys who also did not shower after a smoke-filled barbeque, then a campsite-wide game of sardines in which they tried hiding in muddy holes and spiderweb-covered bushes, so I think I can handle my own boyfriend’s shedding.” Seokjin pulled Namjoon close and pressed a cheek to his soft, long ears. “Now, shhh. I need to sleep, and so do you.”
To think that their future, an intertwined one, was only hours away. Hours!
“Goodnight, Namjoon-ah.”
“‘Night, hyung.”
It was just the rest of their lives, anyway. Namjoon could wait.