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Namjoon stood outside on the stoop of Hoseok’s door, ten minutes to midnight. It was freezing cold, and he hadn’t thought to bring his coat out with him. So he could only shove his near-numb hands into his jean pockets and shiver quietly.
Everyone else was inside, warm and giggly with champagne. Watching the New Year’s Eve special on TV and eating Christmas leftovers. Yoongi was in there. And he was wearing this dumb beanie that looked like a bottlecap and it was unfairly cute, and now here Namjoon was, outside, alone, because he had suddenly felt too warm and gay. And he had panicked.
He didn’t know what was different about tonight. He didn’t know what made it different from the past three years that he had harbored a terribly persistent and undying crush on one of his best friends. Usually, he could just forget about it. Shove the unspoken words down his throat and into the back of his heart. But tonight, something had changed. He didn’t know what. Nothing about his feelings were different, he knew that much. His breath still caught in his throat whenever Yoongi touched him.
But tonight--when Yoongi had walked in an hour later than everyone else, looking unbothered with a six-pack of beer in his hand, and his eyes had slid to Namjoon--it sent more shivers down his spine than usual. And when Yoongi collapsed next to him on the couch with an old-man sigh, clapping his hand on Namjoon’s knee in greeting, Namjoon had nearly jumped out of his skin.
He couldn’t even pinpoint what it exactly was about Yoongi that made Namjoon so breathless all of the time. There were too many little things about him for Namjoon to keep track of. Namjoon loved that Yoongi was so passionate about music in the same way he was. Yoongi made mistakes, and he loved those too. He loved Yoongi’s voice, how it could go from smooth and soothing to rough and rousing in a heartbeat. He loved how quiet Yoongi was when it mattered, and how he spoke up when it mattered. Yoongi was so selfless. He cared so much, even if he didn't want it to look that way. There was an amount of trust between them that Namjoon didn’t have with anyone else. Yoongi had been the first person that he had come out to.
He had told Yoongi “I think I like guys too,” shakily in his basement one night, when it was just the two of them. What he really meant was, I think I like you, but he wasn’t about to say that to his best friend when he was still trying to come to terms with it himself. And Yoongi hadn’t said a thing, just opened his arms and let Namjoon come in between them. And it was all Namjoon had needed.
The yellow glow from Hoseok’s porchlight flickered just once, bringing Namjoon out from his own head. He scratched his thigh with the heel of his boot, breathing out a sigh. What was he doing? Standing out here like a loser, for no reason, when he should be inside with everyone else? It was just. The way Yoongi had leaned in too close when reaching for the remote. Feeling Yoongi’s breath on his cheek, hearing it so close to his ear, and the pressure of Yoongi’s palm on his thigh. It was like there was a cup inside of Namjoon’s chest, and it had been filled to the brim for so long, and tonight it had finally spilled over, leaking onto everything else.
And all of the words and thoughts that he had shoved behind him for so long finally caught up with him, they grabbed his shoulder and turned him around and confronted him, looking him straight in the eyes. Yoongi had moved but his hand had still been on Namjoon’s leg casually. Where his fingers rested, Namjoon’s skin burned.
Three years of pent up emotions. Namjoon had had to get out of there. So he had excused himself from the couch as nonchalantly as possible and had come out here for the cold air and some space to think.
There was a creak, and two small thuds. The front door opening behind Namjoon, and someone’s feet stepping onto the porch. Briefly Namjoon heard the sound of his friends talking and the music coming from the television, before the door shut softly behind them.
“Namjoon.”
Shit. Of course it was Yoongi.
“What’s going on?” Yoongi asked quietly, coming to stand next to him. Unlike Namjoon, he had the sense to put on a coat. Namjoon stared at his face for maybe too long, noticing how Yoongi’s nose was already pink, and how his bleached-blonde bangs were squished against his forehead underneath his beanie.
The cup in his chest was still overflowing. Namjoon had to tear his eyes away.
“It’s almost midnight,” Yoongi continued, nudging him with his elbow. “Don’t you wanna watch the ball drop with us?” Still looking forward, Namjoon took a deep breath. He had to tell him. He had to. He had been waiting for so long, and for what? Why? Because he didn’t want to ruin their friendship? They’d been friends for so long, surely Yoongi would understand. It was only his own fear of rejection that was holding him back.
“Yoongi,” Namjoon said. It came out a little loud, compared to the soft volume of Yoongi’s voice. “I--”
“I’m going to stop you right there, Namjoon,” Yoongi interrupted. He brought his hands up, cracking each knuckle. It wasn’t a gesture Namjoon saw very often. “If you’re going to say you like me, I already know.”
“You--?” Namjoon tried not to choke on his own words. Suddenly, his whole heart was off-balance. “How--”
“You’re not very inconspicuous,” Yoongi muttered as an answer, pulling his beanie tighter around his ears. “But I guess I could’ve been more obvious, myself.”
Namjoon’s jaw dropped. There was no way Yoongi could be insinuating--there was no way that Yoongi could be saying what Namjoon thought he was. He was misinterpreting this, right? He had to be.
“What do you mean?” The words spilled out of Namjoon’s mouth before he could stop them. “Are you saying you like me too?”
The slow exhale that came out of Yoongi’s mouth looked like smoke.
“Yeah.”
“Oh my god,” Namjoon clapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide, and took a step away from Yoongi, if just to look at him fully. Even though Yoongi was older than him, he was a lot smaller. And he looked small, standing on the porch with his hand on the wall of Hoseok’s house like confessing his feelings so simply had taken all of his energy.
If there was a cup in Namjoon’s chest, it hadn’t just overflowed. Now it had tipped over completely, emptying all of its contents. It splashed into his bloodstream, his lungs, every bone in his body.
“Oh my god,” Namjoon said quieter, but this time joined with an incredulous laugh. “You--you mean it?”
“‘Course I do, Namjoon,” Yoongi replied, his voice low. “You think I would mess with you like that?”
“No, nonono, but if you knew I liked you too why didn’t you...say anything?” Namjoon’s question hung in the air, on the edge of poignant, before Yoongi took a step closer to Namjoon and grabs his gaze with his eyes.
“I’ve been in denial a long time, Joon,” Yoongi said, soft. “Since you...told me you were bi. Maybe before that too.” His mouth quirked into a tiny smile. “But I think that’s my New Year’s resolution. Stop being in denial.”
“New year, new you?” Namjoon joked faintly, realizing that Yoongi was nearly stepping on his toes, he was so close. There was a moment when neither of them said anything. Just breathed in tandem with each other. Namjoon was allowed a moment, a brief moment, for his mind to catch up with everything. Yoongi had really just confessed that the feelings he felt were mutual. He had practically fulfilled every one of Namjoon’s fantasies in the span of ten minutes. It was unreal, but it was real, and it was right now.
“Holy shit,” Namjoon said aloud, bringing his hands up to grab Yoongi’s. His hands were only slightly smaller than his, but they were pinker and colder. Namjoon wanted to shove them in his pockets. “Holy shit,” he repeated. “Yoongi can I--can I?”
“Yeah,” Yoongi breathed, swallowing. If Namjoon was listening, he would hear his friends inside the house, counting down to midnight excitedly. 5! 4! 3! 2!
On the stoop of Hoseok’s house, on December 31st at 11:59 PM, Kim Namjoon leaned down to kiss Min Yoongi for the first time.
1! Happy New Year!
The kiss was tentative and shy, mostly due to Namjoon’s surprise that he was really kissing the man of his dreams, someone he’d thought it would never happen with. And Yoongi was kissing him back. And his mouth was soft, even if his lips were a little chapped near the edges, and they were still stained with the taste of the champagne he’d had earlier. Namjoon didn’t care. It made it better.
There was a loud crack in the air, as a firework went up into the sky. Then another, and another, and Namjoon broke their mouths apart to look up at them and bring Yoongi closer to his side.
“Happy New Year’s,” He muttered, leaning down to press a small kiss onto Yoongi’s forehead. “And thank you.”
Yoongi looked up and offered Namjoon a quiet smile, private and just for him. He squeezed Namjoon’s hand.
“Happy New Year’s,” he echoed, the smile sticking to his face when he looked up with Namjoon to watch colorful firecrackers fill the sky.