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Mission Control in Incheon has never been more loud; interns, executives, and engineers run in and out of the main hub of activity, and data analysts are seated in front of their computers, running last minute scans, checks and imaging about the weather, the shape of the rocket and the weight calculations. The room smells vaguely of sweat, anxiety and fear, and Hoseok, despite best attempts, is not immune to it all.

From where he’s hovering above Taehyung’s seat, he chugs down another cup of strong assam tea, unable to take his eyes away from the big picture on their large screen ahead of them, where the rocket that will take South Korea’s first astronauts towards the edge of space awaits. He’s seen the model, the design and the moulds of the rocket what must be a thousand times now, and yet, he’s still blown away by how beautiful it looks, and yet, how unassuming, all at once.

He sees the images of the crowd near their launch site in Busan, on Yongguk’s monitor a couple of screens over, the excited, nervous faces of people from all over Korea and selected cities across the world. The whole world is holding their breath, to see if South Korea’s first record-setting mission is actually capable of succeeding.

Hoseok doesn’t know. He wants to believe that everybody’s hard work will pay off, but he doesn’t honestly know. That’s not been his job, anyway.

The pressure now, is on Kim Seokjin, director of entire Jowangshin mission, and Jeon Jeongguk, KARI’s new hotshot main engineer, who look a little like they’re about to jump about of their bodies, as they run nervous, last-minutes scans and checks, adjusting their ties. He shoots them a quick smile, which only Jeongguk returns, Seokjin too busy fielding the immense amount of people wanting to talk to him, to look his way.

“Relax hyung.” Jimin murmurs, lowly, from Hoseok’s side. Jimin somehow manages to be more under control, but he can tell his friend and coworker is nervous, the set to his jaw and the unnatural stillness to his entire body is all-too-visible. “That’s like your fourth cup of tea. At this rate, you’ll have to go and pee when the rocket actually takes off.”

“I’m too nervous to actually pee.” Hoseok admits, but puts the tea down on Taehyung’s desk anyway.

Taehyung, who’s far too relaxed for this situation, just laughs, and drain the tea himself. “Regardless of whether you worry or not, it’s not up to us. So just relax. Our job comes later.” he murmurs, and there’s that zen-like calm that somehow occupies Taehyung whenever he needs it most. It’s why Taehyung is the main comms person for the Jupiter space mission, not he or Jimin, who’ve been at the agency for about as long as he has.

“Fifteen minutes.” Taehyung booms, into one of the systems for the entire mission control building, and if anything, everybody gets louder and more panicked. Hoseok grips the back of Taehyung’s spinning chair, and keeps his eyes pealed to the image of the rocket.

“Jowangshin to Mission Control. We’re at the top of the rocket, about to get inside. Any issues for me to know about, over?” The burst of comms is surprisingly loud, and Taehyung immediately switches to his more reassuring voice.

“Mission Control, receiving loud and clear. No issues on our end, for the time being, everybody’s still running their quadruple checks, but I think we’re good. Over.” Taehyung says, cheerily.

“Alright, I’ll wait here until the all-clear then, over.” The low, soothing drawl of Kim Namjoon is a familiar background noise to anybody who lives in Korea. He and Min Yoongi’s media-circuit has been extensive and long-drawn-out, something that has drawn maximum buzz for the mission, and which has lead to Kim Namjoon stealing the hearts of half the world and Min Yoongi stealing the hearts of the other half. With sardonic remarks, a large gummy grin and long ramblings about space theory that somehow still make sense, Yoongi is Korea’s new darling and Namjoon, with his dimpled smile, easily relatable conversational skills and obvious passion for space and for reaching new frontiers, acts as a perfect foil to Yoongi. Both of them are much adored, and precious few at KARI would dislike them.

Hoseok certainly isn’t one of them. He’d met Namjoon and Yoongi at one of the big meet-and-greets, where they shook hands and exchanged cordial words with almost everybody on the team, to get introduced to everybody behind the scenes. Namjoon had drawn his especial attention, though Yoongi was much closer to Hoseok’s typical brand of humour, in his graciousness and down-to-earth nature. Not to mention his smile..... Hoseok’s rather happy that his first mission as a comms person will be to serve people as amicable as Yoongi and Namjoon.

“How are you feeling, Namjoon-ssi? Ready for all of this? Over.” asks Taehyung, conversationally.

“Nervous as hell, Ground Control. But you know. One giant step for mankind and all. It makes sense. Over.” Namjoon replies, self-deprecatingly funny.

“Well, I think you’re going to do wonderfully, Namjoon, over.” Taehyung assures, the wide grin on his face, evident through his voice.

“I notice that you address Namjoon alone, Mission Control, and I have to correct you. If some horror movie shit goes down, it’s not Namjoon that’s going to do wonderfully, over.” Yoongi inserts, dryly, which makes most of Mission Control laugh at least a little.

“Thank you for making this exchange no longer family-friendly for retelling, Yoongi-ssi, over.” Taehyung says, dryly, and the light, ‘you’re welcome’ eases something in the room, just a little. Taehyung waggles his eyebrows at Jimin, who just laughs, and they turn back towards Seokjin, who’s getting in all of the final reports from everybody, about the last-minutes checks. It takes a couple of minutes, but Seokjin finally looks up and nods, with a huge thumbs-up.

“You’re all clear, Jowangshin. You can strap up now, over.” Taehyung says, and the control room goes more silent, and more tense.

“Thank you very much, Mission Control, see you in a little while, over and out.”

“Ten minutes! Better start that countdown for the public.” Taehyung calls, and the silence somehow reigns even more supreme as Namjoon and Yoongi settle in, and run their preliminary control settings, with a couple of other people confirming that everything is doing well.

The greenlights are popping up across the room, and Hoseok exchanges looks with Jimin, who grins at him, trepidation filling his eyes too. “I can’t quite believe it’s happening.” Jimin murmurs.

“Me either.” Hoseok replies, with a low laugh. “Still. We’ve come so far, huh?”

“Further to go from here.” Taehyung retorts, tugging at his earrings. “But. Promising start?”

The five minute counter flashes above them, and Taehyung snaps back to talking Namjoon through some last-minute breathing exercises and Yoongi’s funny quips for the media to obsess over later.

Hoseok swallows heavily, unable to tear his eyes away from the rocket, and the huddled people. It’s not his mission, not really his hard work waiting to come to fruition, and yet the suspense is killing him. Is this going to work? Is the rocket’s trajectory actually going to work? Is this going to blow up horribly and kill them in the process? He exhales a little shakily, as Seokjin moves down to their desk and picks up the comms set.

“Jowangshin, good luck to you. One minute until launchtime now, over.” The automated count-down fills the screen, the computer voice slowly ticking down.

“Thank you, Mission Control, internal systems are firing and things are going well, over.” Namjoon says, and the sound of fuel tanks emptying and the engines warming up slowly filters through the audio. Hoseok leans forward, and feels the sound of his heart beating fill his ears.

“T minus 30 seconds.” Taehyung reminds, and they wait. The engines fire. Mission Control falls mostly silent, as they wait, and wait, and wait, in case something should go wrong. “T minus ten, nine, eight, seven--” The flames start to pour out of the bottom of the nuclear powered rocket, “--six, five, four, three--” The ignition sequence is a little late to kick in, but somehow still works, throwing off Taehyung’s counting just a little, “--two, one and a half, one and three quarters, one, zero.” The rocket pushes up, majestically rising, as the acceleration slowly drives its immense mass off the ground, and despite having seen much footage of old rocket launches, and countless rockets, Hoseok’s breath catches in his throat.

The clapping fills the room, with relief as the rocket continues to fly up, straight and clear and Hoseok sees Seokjin deflate with relief, and Jeongguk jump almost comically high into the air with joy.

“Jowangshin to Mission Control, looks like everything’s working well, over.” Yoongi says, dryly, despite his voice shaking, and Hoseok exchanges a grin with Taehyung and Jimin. For most everybody in the room, their work is halfway done, but Hoseok knows, that he and Jimin and Taehyung, have only just started.

-

Mission Control is much emptier at night, and just a little more intimidating. The cool blue-toned lights that make the room look cool, sterile and fresh during the day, serve only to make the room colder and scarier at night, but Hoseok’s prepared. He has a huge coat on, a mug of hot tea, and a lot of data scanning to finish.

Most people are surprised to find that Hoseok’s on the night shift, or that he counts himself as a night person, when he’s usually quite cheerful, but he sometimes relishes in not being a walking stereotype. He enjoys the cool feeling of being alone, and the still calmness that descends over him, late at night, a clarity of thought, in some ways. He just doesn’t particularly appreciate huge empty spaces at night, quite as much as he appreciates his own empty bedroom at night.

“Jowangshin to Mission Control, checking in with the status report, over.” crackles the static, and Hoseok immediately moves forward to answer.

“Mission Control here, how’s the view, Namjoon-ssi? Over.” Even though protocol in rocket missions in the past has been to be as formal as possible, most psychologists have ruled out that procedure. It was a perfectly sound professional thing to do in the 1960s, where missions to the Moon and Mars were not so long, and were with other people. In a manned mission that will take three years to complete, with only one other astronaut for company, professionalism takes a back seat to maintaining human connections.

“It’s beautiful.” Namjoon murmurs, sounding quite awed, “I’m just passing the point where the Earth’s just the same size as my finger. I don’t think you ever get over the sight of looking down at the Earth, instead of the other way around, over.”

He sounds so entirely touched and Hoseok really hasn’t even considered how it would be to be in space like that. Not since he was a young child. “I would suspect not, Namjoon-ssi.” Hoseok says, with a laugh, “It still seems a little unbelievable this whole space mission left the planet, over.”

“Don’t you think so?” asks Namjoon, jokingly, “I have this tiny niggling worry inside me that says that once I go to sleep, I’m going to wake up and the mission’s actually been cancelled or something, over.”

“Don’t worry, you aren’t alone.” Hoseok says, with a low laugh, “That’s why I’m on the night shift. Over.”

“Sorry to have to ask, remind me again, which of the wonderful operators were you? Over.” asks Namjoon, and his voice sounds genuinely interested.

“Jung Hoseok, at Mission Control.” Hoseok says, a little surprised (and just a little pleased) to be asked. “But I suspect we’re wasting time, tell me the status update first, over.”

“Ahh yes. Sorry Hoseok-ssi. Flight plan’s staying steady so far, the weight is not overly troublesome, and the docking to the rest of the ship that Mission Control supervised earlier seems to be holding just fine. No cracks, no anomalies, no lights flashing that shouldn’t be, over, like they thought might be a problem. We’re going to explore through it once Yoongi-hyung’s awake again, we’ll let Mission Control know if anything’s wrong or missing.”

Hoseok is reminded, not for the first time, that Namjoon’s deep voice is incredibly soothing, sort of like waves crashing over a coast on a peaceful night. “And your personal health so far, Namjoon-ssi, over?”

“Just a little tired, but I suspect that’s to be expected.” Namjoon jokes. “Yoongi-hyung’s asleep right now, and he was feeling a little motion-sick, but otherwise alright, over.”

That’s a reassuring sign, and it makes Hoseok smile into his cup of tea. “Any problems with muscles? Aches and pains that seem unexplainable, over?” he asks, anyway.

“I hit my elbow on the edge of the table when we were unstrapping from our seats and it’s not stopped hurting, but that’s rather explainable. I’m fine, over.” The self-deprecating laughter shouldn’t actually be funny, but Namjoon manages to make just the right quip and Hoseok laughs lowly too.

“Take care of yourself, Namjoon-ssi, it would be a shame to lose our astronaut to the horrors of corners of tables and too-small port-doors inside the rocket, over.”

“That it would, Mission Control, that it would. Over and out.” Namjoon’s voice leaves, presumably to go and look out at the Earth a little more. Hoseok takes a few moments, to shut his eyes and imagine being Namjoon, out in the big wide world of space, to stare down at Earth, which had always been the limitations of the world, and know that he was going farther and beyond.

The thought makes Hoseok smile, faintly, before he picks his tea up, and gets back to data analysing. That sort of thing isn’t for him. It’s enough that he’s here, waiting and watching.

-

Somehow, the A/C has gotten colder inside the Mission Control room, and Hoseok hates having to bring a literal parka to work. There’s always bullshit about how the amount of computers increases air temperature, therefore, strong A/C is required to combat it, and look. Hoseok understands that, he did go to college. He just doesn’t understand why the A/C can’t combat computer heat to be a normal temperature, instead of mimicking the Arctic circle.

Compared with the melting eddies of heat sweeping through the rest of Seoul, in the unnatural heat-wave, the A/C at work only served to give Hoseok a terrible runny nose and unable to sleep properly when he got home, to a barely-effective air conditioning unit. All in all, it was terrible.

Sniffling a little, Hoseok takes a sip from his tea and awaits--

“Jowangshin to Mission Control, here’s the hourly status report, over.” Namjoon’s voice is smooth through the comms.

“Mission Control, receiving loud and clear. How is it up in the stars, over?” Hoseok calls, eager to pretend to be in a place where he isn’t slowly freezing to death.

“Going just fine, Hoseok-ssi. No major incidents just yet, just a small problem of the sink water not quite being screwed shut properly. We were having some leakage, little waterdroplets floating around in mid-air, but Yoongi-hyung fixed that rather easily.” Namjoon narrates, lowly, “A world-renowned engineer, physicist, and apparently really great handyman too. Always an alternate career to look into, over.”

Hosek couldn’t help but scoff in amusement. “If astronaut doesn’t work out, in five years time, I suppose you could become a handyman. I suspect that’s not the use you’ll be put forward for, however, the media would throw a hissy fit. Health still going well, over?” He adjusts himself in his chair, so he’s more comfortable for this conversation.

“Hissy fit? Hardly, they’d throw a party. Morning show talk hosts finally have a lovely new tidbit to constantly use as an overused joke!” It’s surprisingly easy to forget that Namjoon is the dimpled prince who managed to charm most of Korea, when he seems to be critical of most of the tactics that rose him to fame. It’s why Hoseok likes him, really. “But yes, no health issues, over.”

“Has the elbow healed, over?” asks Hoseok, curiously, tightening his coat over his shoulders.

“Yes it has, Hoseok-ssi. But you jinxed me, I hit my head on the port door this morning and rather scared Taehyung by swearing a little too loudly into the comms system, over.” He can almost imagine the mock-scowl on Namjoon’s face from just his words, and the thought makes Hoseok smile into his tea.

“I think regardless of whether I said it or not, that injury was inevitable, over.” Hoseok laughed. “Take care of yourself, Namjoon-ssi.”

“Indeed I will, Hoseok-ssi, over and out.” Namjoon leaves, and Hoseok yawns, and gets back to his other work.

-

The status report system works in a way that Hoseok only really gets to interact with Namjoon once during his shift, unless something has gone wrong. The two astronauts have their own schedule on board sorted out, to make sure somebody is always awake, and while Hoseok doesn’t know particulars, he does know that he only seems to meet Namjoon.

Not like that’s a bad thing. Namjoon has a low soothing voice, and charmingly funny things to say, and Hoseok’s starting to come to terms with the idea he might have a minor crush on Kim Namjoon. The again, who doesn’t? So Hoseok keeps it reigned in. It’s for the best he only talks to Namjoon once a day.

“Jowangshin to Mission Control, status report incoming, over.” The audio buzzes, and Hoseok stirs a little, from where he’s slumped over the desk in boredom.

“Hi Namjoon-ssi. Mission Control copies, over.” Hoseok says, brightly.

“No major incidents to report, no health issues on our end either, and our flight path is on track since we’re coming up on the Moon now. Yoongi-hyung set up the cameras before he went to sleep and I’ve been adjusting them as needed, I hope the pictures are coming in well, over?” Namjoon’s voice is surprisingly enthusiastic.

“Yes, everybody’s happy to get some more high-quality pictures of the Moon.” Hoseok says, with a low laugh, “We’re hoping these ones will be able to tell us exactly how the multi-ring basins work--at least, that’s what Jeongguk is always chattering away in my ears about, over.”

Namjoon laughs, low and easy. “I doubt they’ll get much new information from these pictures. I think it’s our exploring the asteroid belt that might be able to get more insight into that--though the new science that comes in, often suggests that the best place is to go even further and go out to the Kuiper belt. Bigger rocks there--and bigger planets too, over.”

“Indeed, but we aren’t sending you two that far out.” Hoseok reminds him, lightly. “Too long a voyage. Three years is already a trepid journey with a lot of delays, over.”

“Perhaps, perhaps.” Namjoon hums, lowly, a low sort of buzz that worms its way into Hoseok’s bones, through the headset. “Passing by the Moon is something else. I thought looking at the Earth was something out of my imagination, and yet. It’s something entirely different to be staring at the moon like this and knowing that we’re going further--” He cuts off and there’s a sort of choked up sound. “Ah. Over.” he says, and Hoseok’s not imagining it, definitely sounds bit more choked up.

Hosok exhaled, gently, and leans forward, knowing that Namjoon can’t see him. “I bet it’s different. Still, being exposed to beauty isn’t a bad thing, right? Over.”

“I don’t know how to explain it.” Namjoon confesses, and his voice wavers a little. “It’s just breathtaking. The ten-year-old inside me is just really questioning how I got to be here and just entirely flummoxed at everything about being in space. It doesn’t feel real, over.”

“I’d bet.” Hoseok murmurs, and shuts his eyes. “That ten-year-old’s proud, though? Over.”

“I guess so.” He doesn’t say over, so Hoseok waits, quietly. It’s not technically regulation, but he can hear Namjoon breathing, thinking. “Ten-year-old me would be fine with this whole situation, but I think somewhere along the way, while doing training and touring the country and getting my masters in three subjects, I forgot about this bit. The actually being in space bit.” He pauses again, and rather obviously changes the subject. “What made you try to work for JARI, Hoseok-ssi? Over.”

Huh. Hoseok hasn’t thought about it for a long time, and the question makes him pause for a long time. Too long. “I apologize,” Namjoon says, chiming in, “If it’s too personal, you don’t have to say anything, over.”

“No, no, no.” Hoseok reassures, quickly. “It’s been a long time since I thought about why, so I almost forgot. It’s a little silly actually.” he admits, and laughs, a little self-deprecatingly. “I used to watch Star Trek all the time as a kid, and Captain Picard was like my hero. He was like the king of communication, you know? And E.T was big as well....I guess more than all the alien-killing movies, those ones stuck with me more. The idea of talking to a new race and keeping level-headed and all, being the one in charge of trying to do diplomatic organization with aliens...it was a fun idea, anyway. I knew I was never going to be an astronaut once I grew older, but you know, this is next best. At least now, if you met aliens on Jupiter, I’ll be telling you what to say over.” He jokes, with a laugh.

“That’s cool!” Namjoon says, rather insistently, “That’s not silly at all! Not enough people value communicators, you know? Especially not guys. Masculinity is typically Han Solo, not Captain Picard, it’s important to be able to talk and understand people and understand something beyond us too, you know? Over.”

Hoseok knows that all too well. “Well, the world is changing.” he said, and taking a little bit of a chance, a cheeky chance, he also says, “And you should just call me Hoseok, I’m the same age as you, over.”

“Oh. I can do that, Hoseok. You can just call me Namjoon too.” He can almost hear the smile over the line. “Goodnight, Mission Control. Over and out.”

Hoseok smiles happily to himself, and is about to turn back to slouching over his desk, when he realizes, with a start, that he didn’t get to ask Namjoon why he wanted to go to become an astronaut. He frowns, makes a note of it on a post-it note, and then starts slouching on his desk again, a faint smile on his face.

-

The A/C is terribly chilly today, and Hoseok has finally given up with dealing with it, and has brought along a steaming thermos of soup and a large fluffy blanket with him. One of the other coordinators in the office gives him a dirty look, but Hoseok is too busy enjoying being a real human to care.

He’d gotten a bit of praise from Seokjin the day before for his succinct reports and good rapport with the astronauts, and it’s rather bolstering, all in all, so he’s in an even more cheerful mood when Namjoon buzzes in.

“Jowangshin to Mission Control, over.” Namjoon’s voice sounds a little hoarse today.

“Mission Control copies, how are you doing Namjoon, over?” Hoseok pitches his voice perfectly cheerful and cute.

Namjoon coughs a little, again. “We were visiting the cargo parts of the ship and accidentally released a lot of dust into the air. The system will filter it out soon, but the remnants are still floating in the air--” He coughs a little more, “--I’m a little more sensitive to it than Yoongi-hyung. It’ll pass but I’m a little coughy right now, over.”

“Make sure to drink lots of water, Namjoon, it will help soothe your throat a little.” Hoseok says, biting down on his lip. “Do you not have facemasks there, to try and filter the air better? Over.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea actually, Hoseok. I’ll be back, over.” The comms stopped buzzing, and Hoseok wonders how it is that neither Yoongi nor Namjoon seemed to remember the face-masks. Honestly. Genius biologists, chemists, geologists and physicists, and yet can’t remember to take basic health precautions.

“Jowangshin reporting again, The face masks are helping a little, over.” Namjoon’s voice is a little more muffled, but Hoseok can detect the sheepish tone.

“I suspected.” Hoseok murmurs, dryly, “How is everything else?”

“Flight paths are secure, everything’s mostly put together Yoongi and I were sorting though supplies for Jupiter and extra fuel reserves and tanks, seems to be okay from what we inspected. We’ll be checking for damage most of this week, though, so, I’m not sure if that will remain the case. Other than some coughs, our physical health is fine, over.” Namjoon’s smooth and clinical throughout this process, before they divert into more casual conversations, and Hoseok appreciates the veneer of being professional, in any case.

“That’s good to hear. You haven’t collided with any doors in the past week? Over.” teases Hoseok, blinking lazily.

“Not one, Hoseok. It’s a new miracle. Yoongi-hyung is convinced that I’m saving up to accidentally destroy something larger though, he’s paranoid, over.” It’s a funny thought, the clumsy astronaut and his better half drifting through the spaceship and worrying about what catastrophe Namjoon would accidentally pull, and Hoseok snickers a little.

“Well, Namjoon,” Hoseok said, “I don’t entirely think he’s wrong in making that assumption.” There’s a slight snort from the other side, that makes Hoseok smile, probably just a little maniacally, “But in any case, I have mail from your sister!”

Usually, if a ship was close enough to the Earth, like the ISS was, there would be a way to reliably send email and internet articles to the astronauts at least once a day. As it was, even with some of the best new technological advances, there was no way to actually get a Ku band signal to the Jowangshin. Everything would have to be done through radio, which did mean the astronauts lost a bit of privacy. Still, it was something both of the astronauts had signed up for.

“Oh really? That’s a first. Read it out then, over.” Namjoon’s voice is relaxed and so Hoseok opens up the first email.

“It’s titled ‘Big Idiot In Space’, are you sure? Over.” Hoseok can only just barely keep the laughter in, it sounds remarkably like something Dawon would send him whenever she thought he needed a reminder that he was her little brother, and it makes him feel a little warmer inside.

“Go for it, that’s her usual tone. No respect for her oppa, over.” Namjoon sounds just as amused, and Hoseok relishes a little in his low chuckle, the steady vibration of a laundry machine on a cold day.

“Namjoon-oppa, the days are a little colder here and I can’t go and leech off your flat’s heating anymore! What a pain. These days I miss staying at your house, using your laundry machine, and stealing your food. University is only getting harder. Mom keeps saying that I should keep going and go into a phD after this, but that’s the farthest thing from my mind, even doing this much studying is too much. Chemistry was a mistake. I don’t know how you did it, but you were always a giant nerd. I miss you anyway. My friend’s houses aren’t good enough.”

Hoseok pauses, a moment, he can hear Namjoon’s voice breathing still a little, quieter and a little more uneven. He continues reading, after a second.

“I wish you were here to give me advice on what to do. Even if you always complained about it, I always felt more reassured when you listened to me and took my problems seriously. But now you’re off being a bigshot astronaut, so I guess I should grow up a little bit, right? How is it like in space? Is it what you dreamed about? You kept saying that it was too far away to think about, but now you’re there! Are you eating well? You shouldn’t, if you fart too much, Yoongi-ssi will be mad at you!”

Hoseok had to pause for a second there, and they both laughed a little, Namjoon a little more embarrassed than he was.

“I saw the pictures you took a few days ago, of the Moon, and man. It’s so weird to think that you were able to take pictures that good. It was probably Yoongi-ssi, you can’t even take a proper selfie, who am I kidding? But I felt a little closer to you, in any case. I also finally got around to reading L’Etranger. Camus is a depressing dude and I think that as much as you talked about how Meursalt refused to play the game of society and pretending to care about things he didn’t actually care about is what killed him, I think that there’s a difference between defying society’s expectations of what to care about, and just plain out defying to feel something. He was doing the latter, defying without reason. It’s important to defy with purpose, I think, otherwise what? It’s cutting off your nose to spite your face, right? Maybe you disagree, but that’s what I saw.” Hoseok paused, not sure whether to end his side of the conversation to allow Namjoon to say something. The humming under his breath, in contemplation, seemed like he was just barely holding back from retorting to his sister, but, nonetheless, continued. There were only a few sentences left anyway.

“Mom probably sent loads of emails already, right? But this is my first. Sorry, I didn’t really know what to say, but since I finished the book, I thought I would say something. I love you, I guess. Please reply soon, even if you’re busy! We all miss you. You dork. From, Junjoo, over.”

Hoseok traces the rim of his thermos lightly, and waits. The radio buzzes in. “I’ll give my response to Taehyung, I think I need time to think of a good answer and type it up first. Thank you, Hoseok, though, I needed that.” Namjoon said, gently, “Do you have any siblings, over?”

“Yeah, I do.” Hoseok said, with a grin. “One elder sister, Dawon-noona. She’s three years older than me, and takes delight in using that over me. But she’s the light of my life, I love hanging out with her, over.”

“Oh really? Being a younger sibling must be different, over.” Namjoon comments, dryly.

‘It involved significantly more getting bullied, instead of being bullied. Though, your sister does seem to be reversing the roles on you, over.” Hoseok doesn’t know how he would deal with not being the youngest sibling, in any case. He enjoys being doted upon and having someone who’s contractually obliged to cuddle him when he’s down. He can deal with the occasional powerplays about chores, even if it drives him nuts at the time.

“She’s annoying like that. I give as good as I get, though.” Namjoon exhales, lightly, “I didn’t think I’d miss people this much. It’s a good thing I get along with Yoongi-hyung, or I’d probably actually go mad, over.”

Hoseok’s alarm bells started ringing, just a little. “Namjoon-ah.” he says, quietly, “Are you struggling with the isolation? Over.”

“Your voice just suddenly turned extremely professional, you know.” Namjoon remarks, amused, “Don’t do that, I’m okay. It’s just a little odd to go from doing nothing but talking to people for a living, to basically not speaking very much. I’ll adjust soon enough, over.”

“And you’ll tell me if you aren’t? And not be stupid like with your face-mask? Over.” Hoseok murmurs, not entirely sure that Namjoon will be honest with him.

“Of course.” The answer was perhaps a little too hastily given, but before Hoseok could maybe press any further, Namjoon keeps going. “Good night, Hoseok-ah. Over and out.”

Hoseok exhales, uncontented and stares at his mouse for a little while. This is probably something to mention in his report, but he can’t help but wonder if he can just handle it. Quietly. Privately, not in the professional way that seems to make Namjoon shy away.

...he’ll leave it out of his reports for another week, see if he can get any leeway.

-

Hoseok had dreamed, last night, of Namjoon talking to him. He can’t remember what was said, or where they were, just that he woke up feeling surprisingly warm, five whole minutes before his alarm went off, which had been a peaceful way to get up and get ready to face his job. He still hasn’t confronted Namjoon about that yet, but he’s been more cheerful these past few days. Hoseok’s been trying to analyse whether it’s because he’s trying to be happier, or whether it was genuinely just a one-off burst of loneliness.

His coworkers aren’t much help. Even when they are awake, they’re off-duty and therefore rather frivolous.

Taetae
i’m just saying, a blanket is cheating!! you have to suffer like the rest of us, right, jiminie?

Taetae
kim seokjin judges me when i do weird things
not like he doesn’t also do weird shit
but he especially judges me

Jiminie
i’m telling you, he’s just starin at you bc he thinks ur cute

Taetae
Ppppppppllllllzzzzzzzz

The groupchat continues to buzz away, but a rather more pressing reports coming in, so Hoseok closes it down, and grins.

“Mission Control copies, let’s hear it, Namjoon, over.” he says a little more casually.

“All boxes unearthed and checked. I think I might have broken one of the seismographs we’re sticking on Io. Yoong-hyung’s very annoyed with me, but there’s a possibility of being able to fix it. You might have to walk him through directions, once he wakes up, over.” Namjoon sound rather annoyed at himself, and Hoseok hums, sympathetically.

“I can do that, I’m sure we have a guide to that..somewhere.” It will probably mean leaving his station to root around in the box of manual guides for all of the experiments on the ship, but probably necessary to fix it as soon as possible. “How are you, over?”

“No injuries on this end! Yoongi-hyung sliced his finger open on the edge of the console, and we bandaged him, but it should be alright. Flight course remains on path as well, over.” Namjoon’s voice is relieved, and it warms Hoseok’s heart a little it, the tender care he has for his fellow astronaut.

“Is Yoongi-hyung picking up your bad habits instead, over?” teases Hoseok, tugging at the end of his blanket.

Namjoon exhales, heavily. “If anything, I’ve just infected him with my problems, I’ve not gotten any less accidentally destructive. Still, despite minor things, all in all, we’re doing well, over.”

Sometimes, Hoseok wishes he could see Namjoon’s face, that they could transmit video through radio signals too. He really does get the most information about a person from seeing their face and the way they react to certain things. Hoseok wishes he had something more than his voice to go off, no matter how much Namjoon’s beautiful voice is worming its way into his memories and dreams. He’s maybe in too deep.

“That’s good to hear.” Hoseok murmurs, “Now you guys are away from the moon and have another five months before you reach Mars, how’s your freetime shaping up to be, over?”

Namjoon laughs, low and uneasy. “Aahhh, I don’t know. Probably fill up a few SD cards with vlogs about space or something. Maybe of Yoongi-hyung sleeping. I have a tablet loaded up with a billion e-books I kept putting off for a long time, so I can get caught up on that. But five months, that seems excessive, over.”

“Doesn’t it?” asks Hoseok, lightly, “But you’ll have me to keep you company, so it won’t be so bad~ Over.”

“Are you sure? Namjoon asks, and he’s clearly trying to suppress laughter. “I’m rather sure that you being here is an additional incentive to hide in bed and do nothing, over.”

“Oi!” Hoseok protests and hears the peals of laughter across from the other side. Namjoon laughs very purposefully, wholeheartedly, and it makes Hoseok’s heart swell up softly. “I am the light of your life, I’ll have you know, over.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll take your word for it, Hoseok-ah.” Namjoon teases, but Hoseok can see that wry smile on his face, a typical expression from his press circuit tour. “What about you? What do you do in your spare time, over?”

Gosh, what a question. Does Hoseok even really have spare time? KARI consumes his life, really, and working for KARI is a dream come true, but. “Not anymore.” Hoseok says, quite frankly. “I work, I go home, cook, clean and then sleep, so I can do it all again. I guess I study for science and stuff, have to keep up to date on new research and theories. But other than that...not really, no. Wow, that sounds pathetic, over.”

Namjoon makes a weird sound of dissent. “I can’t talk. I haven’t had freetime in a long time either, so. I think it’s just fine. As long as you’re happy, over.”

Is he happy? What a loaded question, that Hoseok really has no easy answer to. It’s easier to just say yes, and keep smiling, because he’s not sure he’d know what happiness is. It’s been a long time since he’s examined himself at kind of level. “Yes, I am.” He says, brightly, and hopes that Namjoon can’t hear the hollowness to that. “Though I didn’t use to be so boring. I used to be a b-boy champion in my youth, over.” He divulges, tugging his blankets further over his shoulders.

“B-boy?” asks Namjoon, voice delighted, “Wow, that’s really cool, actually. Yoongi-hyung used to do that too, though judging by the way he moves now, he was amateur at best, hardly a champion.” They both exchange a snicker at Yoongi’s expense. “That’s really interesting though! What made you stop, lack of time? Over.”

“Yeah, lack of time, lack of money. Usual things.” Hoseok smiles a little forlornly. “You know, you get so good at pretending it didn’t happen that you forget how to miss it? And you wonder if you’re better off for it, or not.” He exhales, heavily, and presses his fingertips to his forehead. Stupid. He’s not here to spill his deepest thoughts onto Namjoon, he’s here to do his job. “I’m happy despite it, though, over.”

Namjoon hums in response. ‘No, I get it I used to write poetry. Shitty overly pretentious poetry, but somewhere along the way, I stopped. You miss it and you don’t really. Because you’re doing something bigger in the service of the world, over.”

“That’s what space is for you? Just a service to the world?” questions Hoseok, unable to think that Kim Namjoon would say something like that.

“Sure. I always knew I wanted to change the world in some way when I was a kid. And space seemed the best way to do it. Feeling small underneath it all seems like the biggest perspective you can give to somebody, you know? If I’m among the stars, I’m giving reason a people to look up.” That was...perhaps the most depe thing he’d heard, and Namjoon had said it so casually. Hoseok gapes a little, as Namjoon continues. “It’s service of the world. My work is a step forward for humanity as a whole. I take pride in acting as that representative for South Korea and for the world. It’s not like I can’t come back to poetry, right? And you can go back to dance too. It’s not something you can only do at one moment in your life. Sometimes, there are more important things than your hobbies, and that’s fine. People will keep talking about how you have to do what you enjoy in the now. As if there’s a time limit to that? Circumstances means sometimes you postpone your dreams too, and that’s okay, you know? Over.”

Hoseok takes a few moments, to collect himself. In the wake of something so comforting, it feels a little like his heart is melting and he’s not quite sure how to contextualize himself after it. He breathes into the mic though, so Namjoon will know he’s still here, though. “I think,” Hoseok starts, after a while, “That if there was ever a perfect representative for Earth, it would be you.” He tries to think of something else to say, and finds nothing, so merely says, “Over.”

Namjoon splutters after a moment, and laughs, that shy, self-deprecating laugh. “No, not at all. I’m good, but not perfect, there are so many people much more talented and skilled than I am, with far less issues. You’re too much, Hoseok-ah.”

‘I don’t really think, I am Namjoon-ah.” Hoseok murmurs, “I think you’re selling yourself a little short over.”

“Ahh, perhaps.” Namjoon says, briefly. ‘Goodnight Hoseok-ah. Over and out.”

Over-and-out is far too easy a way to get out of a conversation, Hoseok muses, as he turns back to his work.

-

He’s supposed to be doing status reports, but he might be streaming some old videos of J-Black and J-Pink, the two alter-egos of one of his favourite dancers in the past. It’s weird, the nostalgia that rises up from the video. Just from the music, he sees himself as he once had been, in the back of his mind, and it’s a weird image. Not necessarily a bad one, but weird, nonetheless. Young Hoseok had had braces, and had worn Supreme like it was a status symbol and his sneakers were always beaten up and he wore sleeveless shirts everywhere, because he was always moving.

Hoseok couldn’t have grown up to become someone more different if he’d tried.

He rubs his eyes, wearily, the sort of exhaustion from too many hours in front of a glowing screen, and when the radio crackles, guiltily pauses the video.

“Jowangshin to Mission Control, status report incoming, over.” Namjoon’s voice is surprisingly chipper today, and Hoseok can’t help but respond in kind.

“Mission Control copies, loud and clear. Tell us how you’re doing, over.” His heart skips a little beat at how nice Namjoon sounds on the other side. It’s as if, by unearthing the past side who’d loved dancing, Hoseok’s managed to unearth the teenage feelings that accompanied that time too. The breath catching in his throat, the sweaty palms, the intent listening--the barely acceptable courtship rituals of the teenager.

He’s come a long way since then, if only his body could recognize that.

“No physical injuries today! Nothing off in the spaceship and flight course stays steady. Nothing too major to report, really, except the fact that Yoongi-hyung is getting bored enough to sleep past his designated shifts.” Namjoon reports, rather amusedly. “You really don’t know how dependent on the internet to entertain, you are, until you’re devoid of that entertainment, over.”

Hoseok doesn’t pretend to know what that’s like, just murmurs a quiet apology.

“No, no, it’s not. Well, it sucks, but it’s manageable. We knew what we were signing up for, you know? Over.” Namjoon insists.

“Doesn’t mean that I can’t be sorry, that I’m sitting here with my laptop right now, slacking on work by watching Youtube videos, over.” Hoseok says, and this startles a laugh from Namjoon.

“We actually have popular youtube series and naver series on our files, as well as a lot of tv dramas and films.” Namjoon muses, “If an alien abducted this ship, they’d be able to tell a lot about our culture as a species. It’s not so bad, not really, over.”

Hoseok hums in agreement. “It could be worse. Still, it could be better too, you don’t have to worry about subduing your complaint.s I understand them, over.”

“I’m sure you do. I just don’t like whining, it’s never been part of my personality. Yoongi-hyung on the other hand....” he trails off, significantly, and laughs again, a warm sound that never fails to make Hoseok feel warm and happy. “Tell me, what’s the weather like in Seoul, at the moment? Over.”

“Freezing cold, considering it’s late at night. It’s been sort of cloudy recently, drizzled yesterday. I think it’s going to really pour tomorrow, over.” Hoseok says, mildly, and quickly scrawls a note to himself on a post-it, to remember an umbrella to work tomorrow.

“How strange. It’s been perhaps a month, and I’ve already forgotten the smell of rain, would you know? It’s weird to say that you miss the sky after such a short time on a spaceship, right? Hah...” he trails off for a moment, and seems to breathe, a little heavily. “I’m going to be here for another three years and I’m never going to see the sky and it’s just hitting me in a weird way, over.” His voice is surprisingly quiet, less smooth than before and Hoseok hums, carefully, but can’t help but internally rejoice, as Namjoon speaks. He’s opening up a little.

“If you think about it, you’re still looking at the sky. It’s just always the night sky, over.” he suggests, leaning forward a little, in concern.

“It’s not quite the same, Hoseok-ah. You know, they really love to make astronauts seem invincible, but there were so many moments throughout training where everything seemed so huge and insurmountable, and I’d feel this weird sort of helpless. And I’d go out and look up at the sky, and watched the clouds streak across the sky, and feel the breeze on my skin and find some sort of peace with my smallness, knowing that despite humankind being tiny specks of oblivion, we still made up past that sky. And now I’m past that sky, I’m what people are looking up at, I long to be back within it? Strange, right? Over.”

Hoseok’s lips part and he shuts his eyes and thinks of the sky, and the younger Kim Namjoon, with silly hair and too-big clothes, who’d taken faith from the wind on his face, and smiles.

“I don’t think it’s strange at all, Namjoon-ah. I think it’s a manifestation of your urge for freedom fighting your urge for stability and safety. Neither urge is right in any terms, you know? You shouldn’t feel bad for dreaming of space when on Earth, nor of Earth, when you’re in space. It’s like. If your parents are divorced, right? You’re going to be missing one parent all the time, but it doesn’t make you a bad person to be feeling that, or a strange person, over.” He’s not quite sure the analogy fits, but there’s a thoughtful silence that passes, quietly.

“I didn’t think of it like that, over.” Namjoon murmurs, and sounds so pensive and distant, that Hoseok can’t help but wonder if he messed up.

“I think I understand how you feel though, Namjoon-ah.” Hoseok admits, quietly, trailing a finger over the rip of his cup. “Whenever I felt small and trapped and angsty, my mom would always tell me to go and take a walk outside and to not come back until I was over it. And being outside, just being under the sky and being out from it would bring me a lot of peace. It might just have been the change of location, or physical exertion burning up my spare energy, but I do think there’s a certain strength we take from the freedom of the sky. Makes us feel bigger. It’s not a bad thing to miss it, after all. Over.”

“Your mom sounds like a really smart woman, over.” Namjoon says, and it’s a little warmer, and Hoseok’s not entirely sure he’s succeeded, but.

“She really was. Over.” Hoseok says, quietly.

“It feels selfish though? I’m finally here and I want to be back, already. I achieved my dream and I still feel like something’s not right, even though I also simultaneously feel that excitement everyday. I’m in space. I’m floating. I’m going through the depths of our solar system, to ring the world, and I’m amazed by all of it. And yet I want to go home again, over.”

Hoseok scoffs, before he can help himself. “Namjoon-ah, you’re homesick.” he says, firmly and decisively. “People are homesick if they just switch houses in the same town. You left the planet, you’re allowed to miss home and want to be back at home. With a real internet and your family closeby and more people to see than just Yoongi-ssi. That’s not a selfish thing, it’s perfectly natural. You can be in love with your new place, and still be homesick, it’s okay to feel that, you know? Over.”

There’s a low silence, that feels a little empty. But Hoseok can still hear Namjoon breathing on the other side. “I guess.” Namjoon says after a while, “I just feel so guilty...I’m missing so much from my friends and family’s lives, but I’m doing something that other people can only dream of. Like I’m taking this for granted.” He makes a frustrated sound in the back of throat. “No, more like. You’re Bilbo Baggins, you’ve run out of the Shire already, and you’ve reached Mirkwood and you just immediately want to turn back at even the first sign of hardship. You’re letting the adventure slip through your hands, by dreaming of the Shire so thoroughly, you aren’t living in the moment, and loving where you are? That just seems like a waste, over.”

Hoseok lets that analogy roll over in his mouth. “I don’t think it is, Namjoon-ah.” he says, fondly, “Bilbo’s allowed to miss his home, as long as he keeps walking. He’s not betraying the other hobbits who couldn't come adventuring just because he dreams of the comfort of the Shire. He’s kept walking, and that’s the important part, right? Over.”

Namjoon whistles lowly, barely a whistle really. “You’ve got so much hope, Hoseok-ah. Over.”

“That’s what they used to call me. On the b-boy circuit. Hope.” Hoseok admits, with a laugh, “It was ironic at the time, I stressed about everything, I was a perfectionist and I was generally terrible, even though I won. But what I said just now? It wasn’t really hopeful, Namjoon. This much is the truth. You aren’t being selfish at all, over.”

“Thank you, Hoseok-ah.” Namjoon replies, softly, almost tenderly and Hoseok thinks he’ll keep the memory of his name uttered so carefully in his heart for a long time. “Goodnight. Over and out.”

-

He’s signed up to a dance class. He’s not quite sure what’s come over him, but last night, after cleaning his apartment, and cooking himself some food, instead of sinking into bed and watching something mindless about cute animals on Youtube, he’d searched up ‘dance studios in Seoul’. There had been a billion, and so Hoseok had picked one close to his house. So he couldn’t back out. Then he’d paid the money, and now he was a student at the Moonstar Studio.

It’s mildly terrifying, and yet, something about it makes Hoseok feel extremely light-hearted. It had been such a whimsical decision, he’d barely even looked at the reviews for Moonstar, and had signed up regardless. It’s not like him at all, and at the same time, exactly like him. He’d seen the name, the proximity from his house and had been unable to resist.

He has no time to worry about it , in any case. He starts a class early in the morning, after his shift ends at KARI, and it does mean he sleeps a little less, and might need to get takeout, instead of cooking himself something simple like kimchi jjigae, but. Despite himself, he’s excited.

Hoseok plays with the edge of his blanket and continues to type away at his work, able to put up with it, even though it’s needlessly dull. Sometimes he wonders if the paperwork at KARI is purposefully boring, to root out those who aren’t dedicated enough. It’s certainly what makes Taehyung angry, and Jimin so sleepy he looks ready to drop at the end of his shift. Still, it’s tolerable, and when he hears the chime of Namjoon’s status report again, he smiles.

“Mission Control copies, how’s your day been, Namjoon-ah? Over.” Hoseok calls, cheerily.

“It’s been good. A little boring, for the most part. Flight path’s on course, nothing drastically wrong here--though Yoongi has suspicions about the strength of the velcro in the bathroom. We’re going to attempt to pre-emptively fix it and hope it doesn’t get worse. But Yoongi was sleepy and told me in no uncertain terms to not touch it, so. I listened to commands, over.”

Hoseok laughs, clapping a hand over his mouth. “He’s really not very trusting, is he? Over.”

“No, I think he’s paranoid, personally, I’m not that terrible. But you know what he said to me? ‘Please don’t touch the repairs system of this ship for the sake of world peace.’ World peace!” Hoseok interrupts him too quickly, by cackling into his microphone, a little too loud, and he can almost hear Namjoon pouting on the other side. “I told him where he could shove his world peace--” Hoseok laughs again, brightly, drawing a look from one of the other workers in the office and Hoseok struggles to press his lips together and stay a little more sombre, aware he’s missed a little chunk of what Namjoon has just said. “--anyway, we’re waiting to do repairs, over.”

“Don’t tell me you and Yoongi-ssi are already getting feisty with each other already, over?” demands Hoseok, smile tugging at his lips. He can’t help it, it’s extremely cute.

“No, that’s our usual banter. We just tone it down when we’re on audio, over.” Namjoon admits, and Hoseok laughs again, quietly.

“Honestly.” Hoseok murmurs, “Grown men? Who are you two trying to fool, over?”

Namjoon’s laugh is a little more uncertain this time and Hoseok hears mild rustling on the other side. “Right? Forever children.” He trails off and Hoseok waits. He’s gotten good at not pushing, even though it can feel awkward. It’s one of the things that Jimin’s taught him over their friendship. The importance of staying still and waiting. “Hoseok-ah. Can I ask you a favour? Can you not put it in the log, over?”

Not put it in the log. Hoseok straightens upwards, a little inwardly alarmed. “Depends on what the request is, Namjoon-ah, over.” he says, rather casually.

“I just--” Namjoon cuts off with a small noise of annoyance. “I’ve been having some trouble sleeping. And there weren’t enough videos of ASMR or stuff like that in the logs. And it drains the battery of the tablets anyway, hah, I need it more during the day than I do at night. So I was wondering if you could. Maybe. Read something to me. Anything, really, if it’s not too much of a trouble. I just need to go to sleep and sleep well, over.”

Hoseok relaxes a little more. Okay. Nothing that would get him in trouble. Still, it’s not what Hoseok had expected. “It’s pretty natural to not be seeping well, Namjoon-ah.” Hoseok says, quietly. “Your circadian rhythms are being fucked by being in space, over.”

“I know that.” Namjoon agree,s amiably. “Still. I’d prefer to try and get over it, if I can. Being clumsy and sleep-deprived isn’t a good mix. I’d really appreciate it if you could--” he coughs, lightly, “But I understand if you don’t want to. Really. Over.”

“No.” Hoseok retorts, shutting his eyes. “No, I’ll do it. Anything you want me to read? A bedtime story, over?” he teases, lightly.

“Anything that interests you. I am troubling you, after all, over.” He sounds both sheepish and not at all, and the dichotomy makes Hoseok’s stomach do a weird flip-flop thing, the way Namjoon’s confidence always makes him feel.

“I’ll, read this thing that Taehyung left on my desk.” Hoseok says, finally, eyes catching the edge of a tattered copy of Sophie’s World? “Ready, over?”

“I’m ready.” Namoon says, quietly, and Hoseok takes a deep breath in, flicking open to a random page and starts to read.

“The idea is that what we usually call ‘I’ is not the true ‘I’. In short glimpse, we can experience an identification with a greater ‘I’. Some mystics call it god, others call it the cosmic spirit, Nature or the Universe. When the fusion happens, the mystic feels he is losing himself: he disappears into God or is lost in the God, the same way a drop of water loses itself when it merges with the sea. Satyava, an Indian mystic once phrased it this way: ‘When I was, God was not. When God is, I am no more.’ The Christian mystic, Angelus Silesius put it another way: ‘Every drop becomes the sea when it flows oceanward, just as, at last the soul descends and becomes the Lord.’ Now you might feel it is not particularly pleasant to lose yourself. I know what you mean. But the point is that what you lose is so much lesser than what you gain. You lose yourself only in the form that you have at the moment, but at the same time, you realize you are much bigger.”

Hoseok pauses a moment, and still hears Namjoon’s breathing on the other end, uneven and awake. Not yet. “You are the universe. In fact you are the cosmic spirit itself, Sophie. It is you who are God. If you have to lose yourself as Sophie Amunden, you can take courage in the fact that this ‘everyday I’ is something you would lose someday, anyway. Your real ‘I’ which you can only experience if you able to lose yourself, is like a mysterious fire that keeps burning to all eternity.”

Namjoon’s breathing is slowing, but Hoseok continues, reading more and more, something unfamiliar and beautiful at once unfolds and spreads across the room. Like a web of connections linking himself, the book and the idea of the world, and Namjoon, in the pursuit of humanity’s further beyond.

It was a beautiful moment.

He finishes reading the letter from what appears to be a philosophy teacher to this girl, Sophie, and she revels in her own experience. Questions whether she has a body herself. For a moment loses herself and then disappointingly returns to her own body. An illusion, or a glimpse at something bigger?

Hoseok finishes reading, quietly, and shuts the book. The slow, even breathing of Kim Namjoon is something of a steady rhythm, that Hoseok can’t help but sync to, now that he has finished reading. He could end the connection on his end of the line, but just for a moment, he listens to Namjoon sleep, and thinks of how it had been to feel the burn of muscles when dancing, and how he too, had once been able to momentarily lose himself in the great beyond, in the wash of music, had become one among millions and revelled in that.

“Kim Namjoon,” Hoseok murmurs, quietly, and feels nervous for a moment. But the astronaut doesn’t stir, whuffling gently in his sleep. “You’re making me change so much. Just a few conversations and I want to change myself to become as interesting and wonderful as you deserve.. If it keeps going like this, I won’t recognize myself.” He doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, still. “Thank you. I’m terrified, but thank you. I’m looking up at the stars, seeing the same sky as you, and gaining my perspective now.”

Namjoon lets out a loud snore that startles Hoseok for a moment, before he calms himself and smiles. “Sleep well, Kim Namjoon.” He closes the comm, and takes a sip of soup from his thermos. It’s gone a little cold.