Chapter Text
Socks. Underwear. Pjs. Tshirts. Trousers. Shoes? He needs a bag for that. Where are his bags? And his necessaire? His shampoo? Should he get another backpack for his laptop? His current one is good enough but what if it ripped? He could not afford a new laptop. Maybe he could borrow one from-
“So…” Yoongi’s drawled out voice begins, making his thoughts stop in its tracks. “How does it feel to be completely whipped by someone?”
Namjoon could hear the smugness in his voice, probably slipping through lips curved in a pleased, mischievous grin.
“Maybe you should tell me,” Namjoon counters, trying to look unaffected as he stuffs his travel bag with things he is quite sure are unnecessary but that Seokjin insisted he packs. He grabs a shirt and starts to fold it, eyes sliding ever so slightly to watch the other man by the corner of his eye as he says, “I mean, considering how Hoseok has you wrapped around his little finger.”
Yoongi splutters, eyes round and lips parted in shock. “He does not.”
Namjoon nods, chuckling. “Sure thing,” he says, one hand forcing the bag down as the other works on closing the zipper, “tell me again, what are you doing this break?”
The smaller man crosses his arms, raising one eyebrow. “Getting laid. And you?” Namjoon looks back at him. Ouch. Yoongi laughs. “I’m just saying dude, it’s dumb to go.”
The zipper gets stuck - again - and Namjoon just sighs and throws his hands up in defeat, letting his body fall face-first into the soft mattress, “I knooowwww.” He turns around to face Yoongi. “But what was I supposed to do? Just sit there and watch him suffer?”
“Yes.”
Silence.
“How are we friends again?”
“It’s a matter of survival, I think,” he says, getting comfortable on the old armchair, “I - a small - need you - a tall - to grab things for me on places I can’t reach.”
“What is your use for me, then?”
“Entertainment,” Yoongi tilts his head, face blank. “I’m funny as fuck.”
Namjoon stares.
“Right.” He looks back at his overstuffed bag and for a moment he just feels connected in a spiritual level with it. He, too, is overwhelmed, with way too many socks inside of him. He places a hand on top of the bag, stroking it affectionately. He understands now. Namjoon looks up. “Maybe it will be fun, you know?”
Yoongi raises one eyebrow but says nothing, changing his focus to his phone. Okay, so he didn’t agree with him. It’s fine. Namjoon is sure everything will turn out to be okay. Yeah. It will totally be fun. Two and a half month with his crush that he is sure would rather die than get anywhere near him in a romantic aspect, while he pretends that they are a happy couple.
Yeah. Fun.
It isn’t fun.
Of course, Namjoon never really expected it to be anything other than painful and filled with sorrow, but he imagined it would take at least a week for the torture to start.
He was wrong, oh so wrong. It hasn’t been a week, nor a day. In fact, if his calculations are correct, and they probably are, the time since the start of the Pretend To Love You Crush Without Being Too Obvious Operation was around… half an hour.
So. They are in the car.
You see, Namjoon never saw himself as a man who drives. He never really had any interest in it, knowing that there is always the option of public transportation, which aside from convenient, is also better for the environment. Because of that, he never learned how to drive. He figured no situation would ever require that of him, and if he did need to get a private car, he could always get a taxi. However, at that moment, sitting beside Kim Seokjin in a nissan pickup truck, he realized how foolish he had been.
It’s not that Seokjin drives badly - he doesn’t, not really. Namjoon had already gotten many rides from him and it had always been okay. He is always calm in traffic and as far as Namjoon knows, never crashed the car. Perhaps, Namjoon thinks to himself, knuckles turning white with the force in which he grips the door, today is just not a good day.
Seokjin makes a sharp turn and curses under his breath, eyebrows furrowed as he stares angrily at the road.
“Uhm…” Namjoon starts, eloquently, “Hyung?”
Seokjin makes a noncommittal sound, eyes completely trained on the minivan in from of them.
“Are you okay?”
The other man doesn’t even spare him a glance, smashing his hand against the horn as he speeds up, driving around the minivan, “LEARN HOW TO DRIVE!” he yells, eyes angry and lips pouting.
As soon as the minivan is left behind, Seokjin glances at Namjoon, expression completely calm as if he didn’t just scream 15 (Namjoon counted) different cuss words at a complete stranger. “What were you saying?”
Namjoon gulps, “Uhm.. You seem…” he pauses, “on edge. Is everything okay?”
Seokjin scoffs, smirking at the younger as if he's mad. “Of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Well,” he starts, raising one hand to rub behind his neck, “you did just yell pretty loudly at that person…”
“With reason! Have they never heard of blinkers?”
“You also got really angry at that squirrel because it was too close to the road.”
Silence.
“I just didn’t want it to die.”
“You almost ran it over.”
“Almost is the keyword here. I was trying to teach it a lesson.”
Namjoon fully turns to look at Seokjin, who doesn’t make a move to look back, teeth playing with his bottom lip in what Namjoon knows to be a nervous habit. “Jin,” he says, using what Hoseok liked to call the ‘dissapointed dad voice’ at full force. The older man sighs.
“I’m just nervous, I guess,” he mumbles, words practically inaudible, just shy of not being heard over the low music playing from the radio. His wide shoulders are raised in tension and he almost looks afraid.
If Namjoon didn’t know Jin, he would ask why. He would try to understand the situation to the fullest and try to help. But he does know Seokjin - has for 3 years now - and so he closes his mouth and looks outside. Jin will talk to him when he wants to talk. Prodding him with questions will only make him upset - so Namjoon stays quiet, head falling until it hits the headrest and eyes observing the calm landscape.
There isn’t much to see. It’s getting dark already but so far up in the countryside it’s possible to see a sea of stars shining on the purplish sky. Namjoon loves the stars, he really does. They shine, every night without rest and even if he can’t see them, he knows they are there. It’s a constant - one of the few of his life and he clings to it like a lifeline. It doesn’t matter what happens in his life - who leaves and who arrives - he knows if he looks up they will be there. It gives him perspective - makes him think about the consistency of things.
He glances at Seokjin, who seems to be less tense than before. The stars reflect on his glasses, making his eyes that much more beautiful (if that is even possible). Looking at him, he thinks about constants and his heart beats faster in a painful manner. He looks up again. They are still there. It’s okay.
A new song starts and without noticing, Namjoon hums along with it. It’s a classic - if not for the song in itself, for the meme context it has. Seokjin eyes darts quickly to Namjoon’s, chuckling a little when he notices the younger singing under his breath. Namjoon smiles, voice getting steadily louder as he sings along, propursefully out of tune and high pitched, singing clashing terribly with the song. He turns the volume up and with it, his voice.
“Hey now, you’re an allstar, get you game on, go play,” he faces forward, using his hoodie to cover half of his face and making quick movements with his hands as if he is rapping for an actual audience, “hey now, you’re a rockstar, get your show on, get paid-” he pitches his voice higher, raising one hand as the other clutches at his chest- “and all the glitter is goooold-” he turns his head to look at Seokjin under his hoodie, making a pout as he sings - “only shooting stars break the mooooold.”
Seokjin bursts out laughing, any trace of sadness or discomfort gone as Namjoon continues, making faces as the verses go and trying and making it as dumb and over the top as possible. The older man giggles and sings along, “the water’s getting warm, so you might as well swim,” he turns to Namjoon, makes finger guns - “my world is on fire, how about yours?” - and if when he winks Namjoon’s heart skips a beat, no one needs to know.
The song ends and both their faces are red from laughing and singing and Namjoon feels warm and comfortable just like he always do when they play around like this. He usually feels so out of place, a little awkward as if he takes up too much space - but when he is with him he just feels… okay. Like none of that really matters. Seokjin smiles softly at him. Like he belongs.
It’s weird and a little dumb and very tacky, in his opinion. If he ever heard someone talking about a person like this, he would do a full-body cringe and he is sure the disgust would be visible in his face. But it’s not someone else, it's him talking about Seokjin. So he doesn’t. He just smiles back and feels the warmth spreading through his body in what he now learned to associate with home.
“We will be there soon,” Seokjin says, voice breaking his reverie, “maybe one hour or so.”
Namjoon nods, feeling a sudden sleepiness take over his body. He glances at the older man. “What’s the plan?”
Seokjin looks back at him. “Plan?”
“Well… Yeah,” the younger turns around in his seat, adjusting his hoodie, “I mean, we need a story, right? Like when we started dating and so on.”
There is a pause, only filled with the music and the steady sound of the car’s engine.
“Fuck.”
He barks a laugh, shoulders shaking as he looks at a lowkey desperate Seokjin.
“I didn’t even think of that! Gosh I was so worried, so- Argh!” he grunts, body sliding on his seat in defeat and whines, “we are toaaassssteeeed.”
“We are not, don’t worry,” Namjoon is still grinning when he grabs his phone and opens his notes app and select a new document. “We still have one hour don’t we?”