Work Text:
02:37
Hey
Hey i was thinkin
Summer break starts in three days
02:38
How about a trip?
Hoseok | 3:16
Where did this come from
In the middle of the fuckin night
Hoseok | 3:19
Count me in
--
The first thing that leaves Hoseok’s mouth when they land is, “I wanna go to the beach.”
The first thing he says when they drop their bags to the floor in their tiny hotel room is, “Let’s go to the beach.”
The first thing he does when Namjoon looks up at him is take his wrist and drag him outside.
So now they’re baking under the burning sun, much warmer and brighter than anything he’s used to, Hoseok’s smile stretched over his whole face, big and beautiful.
“Isn’t it pretty?” Hoseok asks, pushing the big sunglasses higher on his nose. His freshly dyed hair is held back by a snapback he bought at the airport, white tee soaked through and sticking to his chest.
It’s a sight.
“Yeah,” Namjoon says, staring at Hoseok’s pink lips wrapped around a neon green straw of his slushy instead of following Hoseok’s line of vision and looking at the sea, as he should be.
Four hours on the American soil, and Namjoon feels the heat getting to his head. It’s the only explanation for his eyes skipping to Hoseok’s chest more often, for following the pretty curve of his top lip, staring at the mole there.
It’s the only explanation.
He sighs and looks away, hair damp against his skin when he runs a hand through it, warm and sticky.
Their hands brush as they walk, Hoseok’s skin gentle and smooth. He’s talking about dance, eyes shining almost as much as his skin, almost as bright as his smile, happy and careless.
The first day of their trip, but Namjoon doesn’t remember feeling this content for months, this calm and comfortable, even though they’re thousands miles from home.
Hoseok seems to feel it too, if his easy step is any indication.
“Wanna go in?” Hoseok asks, bumping their shoulders. Sand is warm between Namjoon’s toes, the ocean looking anything but.
“Not really.”
“Let’s go in,” and the smile on Hoseok’s face could convince him to do absolutely anything, so he nods. Nods and follows Hoseok closer to the water, until it nearly reaches his toes.
Waves are persistently nearing the shore, splashing over the glistening sand, pulling back, nearing again. Sea surface is reflecting the sun, blinding with how bright it is.
Hoseok drops his sandals to the ground, taking the hem of his shirt between his fingers, and pulls it over his head in one swift motion. It lands on top of his shoes, and when Namjoon looks up, Hoseok’s eyes are on him.
“C’mon, loser. The sea’s waiting.”
There’s an odd glint in his eye, intense and a little scary. Namjoon hesitates for only a moment, before laughing and stripping his shirt, placing it next to Hoseok’s along with his sneakers.
Fingers that wrap around his forearm are cool against his overheated skin, gentle but strong. Hoseok doesn’t let go until they reach the water, cold as it washes over their feet, the pleasant touch suddenly gone, replaced by a screech next to his ear.
Namjoon laughs, bends forward, and grabs Hoseok’s elbow when he nearly falls over.
“It’s cold.” Hoseok’s voice is high pitched, eyes wide.
“No shit,” but Namjoon still takes step further, shuddering from the temperature difference.
Then he takes a deep breath, tightens his hold around Hoseok’s arm, and heads even deeper. Hoseok screams as they fall into the ocean, tripping over each other when he tries to fight him off, embraced by the freezing cold.
All Namjoon tastes is salt on his tongue, painful in his eyes and nose. His knees hit the sea bottom, from which he pushes upwards, breathing in once he feels warm air on his skin. Hoseok is coughing next to him, rubbing at his face. He looks funny, lips turned downwards and nose scrunched up, making him laugh again.
“Shut up,” Hoseok splutters, shoving at his shoulder, but he only laughs harder. “Joon, shut up.”
There’s a smile in his voice, an evil grin on his lips when Namjoon looks up. Then there are hands on Namjoon’s neck, his shoulders, on top of his head, strong as they push him down, and down, and lower, until he’s under water again.
He’s met with a beaming smile once he resurfaces, so wide and full and happy it takes his breath away, has him choking and falling into a coughing fit while Hoseok laughs and slaps his back.
“Salt helps with sinuses. Maybe you’ll snore less now.”
“Piss off,” Namjoon mutters, slamming his hand against the sea surface so that it splashes in Hoseok’s direction, hitting his face. It earns him a scream and a grimace, Hoseok immediately attacking back.
And so it goes, back and forth, both of them laughing and yelling and cursing, words loud even on the busy beach. They run around, tripping and throwing each other into the deeper water, wrestling in the shallow areas.
At one point they stay seated on the warm sand to catch their breaths, waves splashing all around them, brushing against Namjoon’s thighs.
Brushing against his thigh along with Hoseok’s fingertips, light as a feather.
“We should take pics later,” he says now, voice raspy from screaming and the salt. “Fuck, it’s really beautiful.”
When Namjoon looks at him he’s staring at the sea, eyes distant, lips curved into a soft smile. It has something soft wrapping around Namjoon’s heart, squeezing and spreading outwards, until it reaches his head. Paints his cheeks a shade warmer, turns the corners of his lips upwards.
“Thanks for coming with me,” it slips, causing Hoseok to slowly turn around and look at him. His dark eyes wider now, lips parted. He blinks slowly, shaking his head.
“Joon-ah,” he mutters, huffing and laughing softly, “no. Thank you.”
Namjoon squints, shaking wet hair out of his eyes. He brushes it off his forehead, shrugging.
“What for? I didn’t do anything.”
“No - no, you did. You did plenty. It’s.. Like, I’ve wanted to do something like this for so long. A trip, the whole thing, the real thing, you know?” He laughs, sounding a bit off, leaning forward. He’s looking down now, one hand still on Namjoon’s thigh, the other one playing with the sand, poking holes in it.
“I woulda never gone without you, probably. So just - know that this means a lot. Going with you, I mean,” and he’s still looking away, refusing to meet his eye.
But Namjoon nods, his hand covering Hoseok’s on his thigh, squeezing a little.
“Yeah, Hoseok-ah. Yeah, that’s why - that’s what I’m saying. Thank you for being here.”
The smile that forms on Hoseok’s face is smaller, gentler. It’s different, but no less captivating.
The sun goes from burning yellow to dull orange, colours on the sky changing to a lighter shade, pastel. Hoseok’s face still shines gold, positively glowing in the light, such a beautiful sight.
Namjoon is tempted to take a photo and capture the magic of the moment.
“You’re staring,” Hoseok tells him with a soft laugh, something that gets his cheeks warm and tips of his ears burning hot. He rubs at his cheek as Hoseok laughs, splashing some water at him in attempt to get him to stop.
It only causes Hoseok to flip them over, easily wrestling him to the ground, slamming his bare back against the sand. He splashes water on Namjoon’s face, caging him in with steel-hard thighs, until his laugh echoes out, leaving him straddling Namjoon’s chest with mouth hanging open and eyes wide.
“You’re staring,” Namjoon says, just a moment before Hoseok laughs, louder this time, sounding off, still not moving or looking away. “What?”
They stare at each other, Namjoon getting acutely aware of the warmth spreading from Hoseok’s thighs and bleeding right onto his ribcage. It’s difficult to keep the heat in his chest down, contain the fire that’s starting there.
Hoseok’s eyes flicker lower for a split second, mouth moving as if he’s struggling with forming words.
Then he suddenly splashes more water in Namjoon’s face, without warning. Some of it gets into his nose, causes him to choke up and roll to the side in attempt to cough it out.
They chase around the beach for another hour, until the sun goes down completely and leaves the city in complete darkness, bright lights of big buildings coming to life.
--
--
“Sushi?”
“We can get that at home.”
“We can get anything at home.”
“Yeah, but - a speciality, you know.”
“Burgers?”
“How about tacos?” And tacos it is.
Namjoon remembers watching a food documentary about the most famous dishes of the city, about their cuisine and the best restaurants to go to, so they drop by a Mexican restaurant that he looks up on google maps, a small local place that’s decorated with bright colours and mouthwatering smell that spreads down the street.
Hoseok’s stomach growls as they’re lead to their table, both of them giggling dumbly. The waiter looks at them over his shoulder, but only smiles kindly when he catches Namjoon’s eye.
“Wheat tortilla,” Hoseok reads out loud once they’re seated, menus in their hands, his finger tracing bold black text on the yellow paper. “Beef, cheese, lettuce.” He furrows his eyebrows, tilting his head to one side as he takes a deep breath.
Namjoon can’t help but smile.
“This is the same as the last one, though?”
“That one was soft,” Namjoon tells him, playing with the folded edge of his menu, “this one is hard.” The baffled look that Hoseok shoots at him over the table makes him laugh into the back of his hand.
“Y’know what,” Hoseok mumbles, leaning backwards as he places the menu on the table, “you order.”
“But, what do you want to-,”
“Whatever, Joon-ah.”
“And if you don’t like it?”
Hoseok’s smile is tiny, barely noticeable, and so soft that Namjoon can only stare. Stare at the slight curve, at the mole on Hoseok’s lip, at his smooth skin.
Then Hoseok says, “I trust you,” with so much weight in his words it makes him think this is about something more. So much feeling in a single sentence, as if it isn’t only about their food choice.
Before he can question or overthink it, the waiter stops by their table. Namjoon orders what’s recommended to him, along with a few shots of tequila, because the guy says the food won’t be the same without it.
While they finish their portion of poppers, Hoseok tells him about an offer he had gotten before they left Seoul.
“They said Kwon-hyung mentioned me,” he says around the jalapeno in his mouth, “I’d get to train an idol group.”
“Do you wanna?”
“What?” Hoseok snorts. “Have a job?”
“Fuck. No, asshole, just.” Namjoon rubs the back of his neck, thinking about Hoseok on stage. About all the performances he’s gotten to see over the years, all the times he sat in the first row and watched Hoseok’s body move fluidly, expertly.
Beautiful to watch. Something much too beautiful to be pushed to a basement of some entertainment company and forgotten about.
He scratches the back of his neck and sighs, eyes glued to the tabletop. “You’re incredible. The rest of the world fucking stops when you dance.”
Hoseok laughs, muttering, “Shut up,” but Namjoon just shakes his head and goes on.
“I’m serious, okay? I watched it - I’ve seen it, plenty of times. You captivate to the point where it’s impossible to look away.”
He plays with his fork, too many words coming to mind, too many things to say.
He remembers Hoseok calling him right before his first dance class at the academy, more than three years ago. Remembers his voice, rough and unsure, shaking with nerves. Saying that what if he wasn’t good enough, what if everyone was better. What if he would disappoint.
But Namjoon had told him he hasn’t been accepted just because. That he hasn’t worked his ass off for nothing. That he’s only improved over the years, and that he would continue improving. Always getting better, and better, and the best.
He is one of the best now. The best in Namjoon’s eyes, but he knows there’s much more Hoseok could learn, much more he could become.
He takes a deep breath and says, “What I meant is - you’re way too good, y’know? Way too good to rot somewhere, when there’s so much you have to give.”
There’s nothing but silence, so Namjoon looks up.
Looks up and finds Hoseok staring at him, lips a straight line, but something incredible vulnerable about his eyes, about the curve of his eyebrows.
“Thank you,” is what comes next, a tiny smile offered with it. “Thanks, Joon-ah.”
A pause, then, “Really.”
The fire in Hoseok’s eyes gets too much eventually, forcing him to look away.
A short silence leads to a discussion about where to go the next day, about what they want to see. Hoseok scrolls through his phone, looking for ideas. His face illuminates blue light from the screen, eyes shining.
“We gotta climb to the Hollywood sign,” he says, meeting Namjoon’s eye over the table.
“Why, to make Taehyung jealous?” Hoseok laughs and shrugs, smiling wide.
“Maybe.”
“A hike in this heat? You sure?”
“I’m gonna take a nice pic of you for instagram if we go.” Namjoon huffs as Hoseok wiggles his eyebrows. “Deal?”
And Namjoon doesn’t find it in him to say no, so he smiles, and says, “Of course.”
Of course, as long as it means going with Hoseok.
With the main dish arrive eight shots of tequila, Hoseok grimacing as soon as they’re placed on the table. Namjoon reaches over for one and throws it back, wincing a little at the burn that spreads down his throat.
“How do you do that,” Hoseok mutters, a slight frown on his face. He shakes his head, but still takes one of the glasses and empties it in one go. Namjoon laughs at his expression, going from shock to disgust to pure regret. “Ew.”
The second pair of shots is gone by the time they clean their plates, third following soon after.
Hoseok’s smile gets wider, words clumsier, and voice louder. He leans closer to Namjoon, elbows resting on the table, cheek squished in his hand to support his head. He’s tripping over his thoughts and giggling at his own mistakes, eyes forming beautiful crescents as he does.
“Pretty,” it slips as he stares at Hoseok’s cheeks dusted pink, at his lips glistening deep red under the bright lights, his own tongue a little loose from the alcohol.
Hoseok laughs, stares, presses the back of his hand against his cheek, and laughs again. He leans even closer, their noses almost brushing, even though there’s a table separating them.
“What,” he mutters, his breath fanning over Namjoon’s lips. It’s warm and smells strongly of alcohol and spices, sending something to the pit of Namjoon’s stomach.
“Nothing.”
“What was that? I heard it, Joon-ah.” A pause, then, “What?”
There’s something odd about his smile, eyes wider than usual. Almost insecure, but Namjoon can’t figure it out. He sounds confused.
“Nothing. It was nothing.”
Time passes slowly with Hoseok’s attentive eyes on him, ruthless even if half lidded. Time passes slowly as he downs another shot, looking anywhere but Hoseok’s face, cheeks burning hot.
He gets distracted by the silver bands on Hoseok’s fingers, fitting perfectly around his thin knuckles.
“Wanna know a secret?” Hoseok asks, half whispered into the space between them. The restaurant bristles with people, chatting and laughing and singing, but Namjoon hears him just fine over the noise.
His eyes shine with something dark, and Namjoon finds himself trapped in it.
“Sure.”
“I’m in love.”
The ache that spreads through Namjoon’s chest is tight and uncomfortable. He feels it sinking deep, settling in his heart, turning him cold all over. It’s heavy in the worst possible way.
“Oh,” he says, forcing his feelings aside. “That’s good. I’m happy for you.”
“Who even organises a graduation trip,” Hoseok continues, eyes a little distant now. “Isn’t it lovely?” He tilts his head, cheek squished against his hand. He’s smiling. “Aren’t you lovely.”
Hoseok blinks once.
Twice.
Three times.
Namjoon’s heart is beating hard, the ache in his ribcage replaced by something sweeter, but just as heavy. The confession is there, out on the open, staring him right in the face.
Obvious, but Namjoon doesn’t dare to jump to conclusions. Always has been the careful one.
It might not be, he tells himself.
“I love you, Namjoon.”
Namjoon blinks once.
Twice.
Three times.
Hoseok’s smile is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
--
--
He wakes up just before dawn, weak lilac light filtering through the windows of their room, drawing odd shapes on the walls, paint peeling off in the corners.
Hoseok’s breathing is coming slow and even from the bed next to his, mouth hanging open and cheek squished against the pillow, lips formed into the slightest of pouts, red and slightly chapped.
He looks peaceful. Probably unaware of the events of last night, while Namjoon’s heart only beats faster and faster as he looks at his unmoving form.
I love you , still ringing in his head, loud and clear and so heavy it’s difficult to brush it off as an accident, as a drunk prank or teasing between friends.
Namjoon rolls to his back and runs his hands over his face, calloused palms rough against his bleary eyes, a great reminder that this is real. He sighs into the silence of the room, loud in comparison to their breathing, the only other sound in the room.
There’s honking down the street and chatter from the other side of the door, tapping outside the window. 05:16 says his phone when he reaches for it, screen painfully bright. He locks it and tosses it lower on the bed, sinking back into the pillows.
The next time he wakes up, Hoseok’s bed is empty. Water is running in the bathroom, raspy voice singing Homme’s Dilemma, just loud enough for Namjoon to recognise it. It’s enough to send a shiver down his back, and it makes him wonder.
What now?
He presses his face into the fabric with a groan, closing his eyes. When he opens them again, Hoseok is sitting on his bed, shirtless, toweling his hair, and turned to him.
Their eyes lock, nervousness settling heavy in Namjoon’s stomach.
“Morning,” he mutters, low and rough. Hoseok’s lips curve upwards, more than a little tense.
“Good morning.”
They stare at each other until Namjoon looks away. He notices water drops on Hoseok’s pecs, too late at realising he’s staring at his chest. Hoseok just continues toweling his hair as he swallows thickly, air in the room dense with uncertainty.
It’s all out there, in the open, he tells himself.
It’s all out there, waiting for him to make a move and set it right.
And yet it’s Hoseok who clears his throat. It’s Hoseok who folds his hands into his lap and says, “Listen. I’m sorry.” Then, once they eyes meet again, “For yesterday.”
His eyes are dark and worried, more nervous than Namjoon has seen in a while. He forces himself upright, sitting so that their knees are almost touching, the beds pushed close enough.
“What for?” he asks, following the trail of moles from Hoseok’s neck down. There’s one on his shoulder, just below his nipple. Above his navel. One that’s half hidden by his boxers. Namjoon’s eyes snap back up, cheeks warm.
His stomach twists.
“Just, y’know. For - for dropping that on you.” Hoseok is rubbing at his cheek, laughing awkwardly. It rings out, leaving only heavy silence.
“Did you,” Namjoon says, voice cracking. He grips his thighs with trembling fingers, looking up to meet Hoseok’s wide eyes and parted lips. “Did you mean it?”
“What does it matter?”
One beat.
Two.
Three.
Then Namjoon takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and says, “What if I feel the same.”
All thrown to the wind in less than a second.
Fuck it, his brain says. Fuck yes, his heart says, always the optimistic one. It beats crazier and crazier the longer the silence stretches on, both of them frozen on the spot. Then Hoseok swallows and leans forward, bed creaking under him.
“Do you?” he asks, and the look in his eyes can only be described as hope.
“Did you?” Namjoon says again, because he needs to know.
“Yes.”
A nod and, “Yeah.”
There’s a smile blooming of Hoseok face, something so beautiful Namjoon feels his own lips curving upwards. Then Hoseok falls back on the bed and bursts out laughing.
It sounds a lot like relief.
Hearing it lifts great weight off Namjoon’s chest, and he laughs along. Softly at first, then louder, and louder, until there are tears in his eyes.
Hoseok’s laugh is high pitched and full of emotion, eventually ringing out. Left behind is only their heavy breathing, caught between four falls. Namjoon is still sitting up, still staring at the moles on Hoseok’s stomach.
He reaches forward, fingers barely brushing against Hoseok’s knee, who shivers, but doesn’t say a word. A slight touch turns into a palm pressed to Hoseok’s thigh, slowly running up and down.
It’s overwhelming, to have the smooth skin under his own.
“Hoseok-ah,” he mutters, drawing circles with his thumb just above Hoseok’s knee.
“Yeah?”
“Please - please look at me.”
Hoseok’s abdominal muscles tense as pushes himself into a sitting position, his palms pressed against the bed. Namjoon hesitates for a moment before raising his hand and cupping Hoseok’s jaw, alternating between looking at Hoseok’s dark eyes and pink lips, shining from the bright light filtering through the windows.
Skin under his fingers is soft, but Hoseok’s lips look even softer.
Still staring, he finds himself leaning closer.
Their lips meet slowly, almost hesitantly. Namjoon’s eyes are closed, but he doesn’t miss the sharp intake of breath Hoseok takes, the fingers that squeeze at his thighs, warm palms pressed against his skin.
It’s a slight brush of lips, barely enough to be called a peck, but it sends fire to his stomach and heat to his head, fingers getting itchy with the need to explore, to touch, to be closer.
Hoseok leans back in as soon as Namjoon pulls back, pressing their lips together for the second time. There’s more pressure behind it now, want loud and obvious. He tilts his head so their noses fit together, and Namjoon follows the lead, parting his lips against Hoseok’s, hand tightening on his jaw.
There’s added weight on his thighs as Hoseok leans forward, this time lips followed by his tongue, sliding in next to Namjoons, his grip only tightening.
“Joon,” Hoseok mumbles to his lips, breathing uneven, “c’mon.”
Namjoon finds himself staring at Hoseok’s wide eyes, feeling hot breath fan over his lips. All of this real and happening, happening right now.
His palm slides to the back of Hoseok’s neck when he pulls him in, their teeth knocking together in the process, pulling a groan from Hoseok. Namjoon huffs a laugh, but doesn't hesitate before he their lips meet again, Hoseok's hot under his own, wet and so, so soft. They're sliding together easily now, tongues meeting in the process, Hoseok’s palms climbing higher and higher on Namjoon’s thighs as he moves closer.
They tip over after Hoseok bites Namjoon’s lip, pulling back only to kiss him again with more pressure. Namjoon’s back hits the mattress, their mouths detaching in the process, but Hoseok is back to kissing him as soon as his palms are positioned by Namjoon’s head, keeping him upright.
In this position, Hoseok holds himself over Namjoon’s body, their chests only centimetres apart, Hoseok’s knees caging his hips.
Hoseok gasps into Namjoon’s mouth when he places a hand on his low back, slowly dragging it upwards, nails to skin. His eyes are shut, mouth hanging open, a soft moan escaping his lips when Namjoon repeats the movement, this time tracing Hoseok's spine. They’re just breathing against each other, only centimetres apart, catching their breaths. Namjoon cranes his neck and presses another kiss to Hoseok’s lips.
It’s a chaste one, something that leaves Hoseok wanting more. He whines when Namjoon backs away.
But he has nowhere to go, the back of his head hitting the mattress. Hoseok opens his eyes just as their mouths find each other, slide of their lips coming more and more natural.
It hits him. This is something he gets to do now.
Kiss Hoseok. Hold him. Touch him.
Fire shoots up his spine as he reaches forward and runs his hand down Hoseok’s chest, careful and a little unsure, Hoseok’s gasp getting caught between their lips. When his fingers run through Hoseok’s damp hair to push them off his forehead, he goes pliant, tilting his head with the movement.
Everything stops when Hoseok opens his eyes and smiles, the slightest curve of his lips.
Everything stops when he leans closer and kisses Namjoon’s nose, giggling dumbly.
Namjoon’s face flushes with colour, chest getting warmer as Hoseok buries his face in his neck, short puffs of breath brushing against his skin.
“Why’re you so cute,” Namjoon mutters as he presses his face to the covers, Hoseok only laughing harder against his neck.
His eyes are positively shining when he pushes himself upwards, face right in front of Namjoon’s again.
“I get to kiss your nose now.”
“Yeah,” Namjoon says, thinking the same thing. “Yeah, you do.”
Hoseok giggles again, closing the gap between them, warm lips pressed to Namjoon’s nose.
--
--
There are people all around, from children to older generations, screaming and playing and swimming, everyone having fun in their own way. Namjoon looks at them, observes a couple of girls holding hands and sitting on the sand not far off, their heads pressed together.
It’s been a week, and they’re back on the beach where they first started.
It’s been a week, and Namjoon gets to do that now, too.
So he grabs Hoseok’s hand, on a public beach in LA with hundreds of people surrounding them, and intervenes their fingers. They slide together easily, finally getting used to the spaces between them, just like Namjoon and Hoseok have been doing over the past few days.
They’re still a little unsure, somewhat careful. Namjoon still hesitates before kissing Hoseok, and Hoseok still stares at him for moments too long, sometimes.
Namjoon finds he doesn’t mind.
He tugs at Hoseok’s hand to get his attention as they pass by another lifeguard tower, Hoseok’s smile stretching wider as their eyes meet.
“What do you say - wanna go in?”
The sun is bright and warm, but Hoseok glows even brighter. His hair is damp and sticking to his forehead, lips a beautiful curve, cheeks slightly pink.
He nods and squeezes Namjoon’s hand, says, “Yeah. Let’s go in.” He makes a show of stripping his shirt, winking at Namjoon until they're both giggling, cheeks warm and affected.
They hold hands when running to the sea, going in despite the freezing water. Hoseok screams from the top of his lungs, complaining about the cold, but keeps tugging them further and further. He goes for Namjoon’s hips once they’re waist deep, pushing him into the freezing cold, falling with him.
Hoseok’s body is warm against his, hands finding each other underwater. They resurface together, Namjoon gasping between shallow breaths.
He mutters, “You’re such an idiot,” and pushes Hoseok’s head under again, for good measure. Then he reaches for his neck, pulling him closer, kissing him, salt all over his tongue, but it feels too good to stop.
Lips warm under his, soft and familiar.
“Your idiot,” Hoseok gasps between kisses, hands settling on Namjoon’s waist. He freezes momentarily, but relaxes as soon as Namjoon slides his fingers into his wet hair, pulling him closer to kiss him again.
“My idiot,” he mumbles against Hoseok’s lips, smiling dumbly.
Another peck is all he manages before Hoseok is throwing him back into the ocean. They continue chasing around the beach, much like the last time, their laugh loud and free. Hoseok’s smile is big and wide, so beautiful Namjoon forgets about everything else, getting wrestled to the ground in the shallow part of the beach.
Sand is warm against his back, water cold as it washes around him, brushing against his calves. Hoseok is straddling his waist, holding his hands above his head, and this time it’s much more than just two friends playing around.
Hoseok eyes are dark, eyelashes glued together, a certain glint in them that has Namjoon’s insides twisting, that makes averting his eyes impossible.
Not that he’d ever want to look away.
“I love you,” he mutters, Hoseok spluttering above him. It makes him laugh, and he presses his cheek against the sand as he giggles, high pitched and happy.
Apples of Hoseok’s cheeks are round and dusted a soft pink, lips turned upwards. There’s something soft about his eyes, gentler than usually.
He leans closer, pressing a kiss against Hoseok's lips, who fits their mouths together, lazy and slow. He tilts his head the other side and does it again, parting his lips just a little. Namjoon’s eyes fall shut as he kisses back, teeth tugging at Hoseok’s bottom lip.
“Thank you,” it comes when they part, Hoseok pressing another kiss to the corner of his mouth. Then to his chin, his nose, to the left and right cheek.
“What for?” Namjoon asks, finally pulling his wrists from Hoseok’s hold, placing one hand to Hoseok’s rib cage, the other to the back of his neck. Hoseok is looking past his eyes, somewhere lower.
“Everything. Like, for taking me with. For - for organising this, in the first place.” He looks up, fire in his eyes. Fire that quickly spreads to Namjoon’s head, to the pit of his stomach, to his face. “For being you. Y’know. Everything.”
It’s Namjoon who tugs him lower this time, sliding their mouths together. There’s weight behind the kiss, and he feels Hoseok melting right into it, back arching under his palm.
He flips them over when Hoseok least expects, who groans when his back hits the ground. Namjoon presses one last kiss to his lips before getting to his feet and running off to the ocean.
“Catch me if you can,” he shouts, already laughing.
“Asshole,” he hears Hoseok screaming after him, fingers on his waist tugging him back just a moment later, lips on his neck, then water all around him, salt in his eyes.
--
Hoseok | 23:31
Hey joon-ah
23:32
Yeah?
Hoseok | 23:32
I love you
23:32
Idiot
23:33
I love you too