Chapter Text
The dressing room gradually settled into its usual rhythm once everyone had made it backstage. The adrenaline from the concert was still lingering, but it had softened around the edges, leaving behind the familiar exhaustion that always followed a good show. Stylists moved between the members collecting microphones and peeling away layers of tape while makeup artists wiped glitter from cheeks that would somehow still be sparkling tomorrow morning. Managers drifted in and out with clipboards and schedules, reminding everyone about call times that nobody was actually listening to.
It always looked like controlled chaos after a concert.
Empty water bottles had already started collecting on the coffee table beside discarded towels and half-opened bags of snacks. Someone had left a hoodie draped over the back of a chair, three pairs of shoes were sitting nowhere near their owners, and the air carried that oddly comforting mix of hairspray, sweat, expensive cologne, and takeout that had become synonymous with tour life.
Namjoon stood in front of one of the mirrors, finally pulling the last of his in-ears free with a relieved sigh. The silence that followed felt strange after nearly three hours of constant music and screaming. His shoulders ached pleasantly beneath his hoodie, every muscle reminding him that they’d just performed for almost seventy thousand people.
Across the room, Jungkook had somehow convinced Taehyung to arm wrestle.
“You’re cheating,” Taehyung complained, already laughing despite the accusation.
Jungkook looked genuinely offended. “How?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“So I’m innocent.”
“No. I just haven’t figured out the crime.”
Jimin snorted into the bottle of water he’d just opened while Hoseok immediately volunteered to referee, slamming his palm dramatically against the table like he was hosting an international sporting event. Yoongi didn’t even bother looking up from his phone.
“You people are exhausting.”
“We haven’t even started,” Hoseok replied.
“That’s exactly what worries me.”
Namjoon smiled faintly to himself as he reached for a makeup wipe. Moments like these had always been his favorite part of touring. The concerts were incredible, of course—they always would be—but there was something about what happened afterward that he treasured even more. Once the cameras were gone and the lights came down, they stopped being BTS for a while. They were just seven men sitting around in comfortable clothes, complaining about sore knees, stealing each other’s food, and arguing over absolutely nothing.
For a little while, life felt almost ordinary.
He was halfway through removing the last traces of eyeliner when a familiar voice spoke beside him.
“You missed some.”
Namjoon looked over to find Jin standing there in an oversized gray hoodie, sleeves pushed casually to his forearms. His stage makeup was mostly gone now, leaving only the faintest smudge of eyeliner beneath one eye that somehow made him look softer rather than messier. His hair, still slightly damp from toweling it dry, had begun falling naturally over his forehead instead of holding its carefully styled shape from the concert.
“Hm?”
Jin pointed toward the side of Namjoon’s face. “Right there.”
Namjoon rubbed at his cheek without looking.
“No.”
He tried again.
“Still no.”
“I’m trying.”
“I can tell.”
The corners of Jin’s mouth lifted before he sighed with theatrical disappointment, reached across the counter, and picked up another makeup wipe.
“Move.”
“I can do it.”
“You’ve already proven otherwise.”
Before Namjoon had the chance to protest, Jin stepped closer, resting one hand lightly against his shoulder to keep him from turning away while carefully wiping away the streak of glitter near his temple. The gesture was so casual that it barely seemed worth thinking about. Jin had always been like this—straightening collars before interviews, brushing lint off jackets, fixing microphones without asking.
It wasn’t unusual.
The problem was that Namjoon had recently become incapable of treating it like it was.
He stayed perfectly still while Jin worked, watching their reflections in the mirror instead of risking looking directly at him. From this close, he could see the tiny crease between Jin’s brows whenever he concentrated, the way a few damp strands of hair refused to stay tucked behind his ear.
“There.”
Jin crumpled the wipe into the nearby bin before taking half a step back to inspect his work.
“Better.”
Namjoon blinked once before finding his voice.
“…Thanks.”
“Mhm.”
That was it.
No hesitation. No awkwardness. Jin had already turned away again, walking toward the couch where Jimin and Hoseok were now arguing over who had forgotten more choreography during rehearsals.
Namjoon remained where he was for another second.
Across the room, Yoongi happened to glance up from his phone just in time to catch the entire interaction. His eyes moved from Jin, to Namjoon, then back again before he slowly pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I need a vacation.”
Hoseok looked over. “We literally just finished working.”
“I need a vacation from the two of them.”
“The two of who?”
Yoongi simply gestured vaguely in Namjoon’s direction before returning to his phone.
Namjoon frowned.
“What did I do?”
Yoongi didn’t even look up.
“Exactly.”
Nobody elaborated.
The conversation dissolved almost immediately when Jungkook declared himself victorious after finally winning whatever competition he’d been having with Taehyung. Taehyung insisted he’d been distracted, Jungkook insisted talent couldn’t be taught, and within thirty seconds all three younger members were talking over one another loudly enough that the managers had to remind them other artists were still using nearby dressing rooms.
Everything felt comfortably familiar.
Staff continued packing equipment around them while dinner finally arrived, filling the room with the smell of warm food almost instantly. Everyone migrated toward the table without needing to be told twice, opening containers and reaching for chopsticks before they’d even fully sat down.
Namjoon had barely picked up his meal when Jin leaned over to look inside the container.
“What’d you get?”
“Bulgogi.”
Jin frowned at his own dinner before looking back at Namjoon’s.
“…I think we switched.”
Namjoon looked down.
Somehow they had.
Neither of them had noticed when they’d grabbed the meals from the counter.
Jin held his container out. “Want yours back?”
Namjoon looked from one container to the other before noticing Jin had already taken several bites.
“You already started eating it.”
“So?”
“So…”
Jin waited.
“…That’s my whole argument.”
Jin laughed quietly, the sound warm enough to earn an amused glance from Jimin across the table.
“We’ve shared food for over ten years.”
“…Fair.”
“So stop complaining.”
Instead of handing it back, Jin took another bite with the unmistakable confidence of someone who knew he wasn’t actually going to be challenged. Namjoon could only shake his head, reaching for Jin’s untouched meal instead.
Across the table, Jimin noticed the exchange first. He didn’t say anything immediately, simply nudging Taehyung with his elbow before tilting his head toward them. Taehyung followed his gaze, then looked at Jungkook.
Within seconds, the three of them were wearing identical expressions.
Namjoon narrowed his eyes.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Jimin answered a little too quickly.
“You all looked at me.”
“We absolutely didn’t.”
“You literally did.”
Jungkook pressed his lips together, clearly trying not to smile.
Namjoon sighed.
“You guys are terrible liars.”
“We learned from Jin-hyung,” Jungkook said.
“I heard that,” Jin replied without looking up from Namjoon’s dinner.
“You were supposed to.”
Laughter spread easily around the room again, blending into the comfortable noise of overlapping conversations. Namjoon found himself relaxing despite everything, letting the familiar chaos settle around him like it always did.
Maybe he really was overthinking things.
Maybe this didn’t have to become complicated.
Maybe it was enough just to have this.
Across the table, Jin happened to glance up while taking a drink. Their eyes met for only a second before Jin smiled automatically, the kind of small, absent-minded smile that came so naturally it probably wasn’t even intentional.
Namjoon returned it before he had time to think.
Neither of them looked away right away.
It lasted no more than a heartbeat.
Still, it was apparently long enough for Jungkook to notice.
He sighed dramatically, rested his chin in one hand, and muttered just loudly enough for Jimin to hear,
“I deserve hazard pay.”