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after jungkook leaves, looking a little bit more human and a whole lot happier, namjoon slides right out of his seat until he’s lying half on the floor beneath the table, half on the sea of backpacks and jackets. he’s pretty sure there’s a skateboard wheel digging into his right butt cheek.
“that’s a totally normal thing to do, for sure. are you like - have you been awake for five days straight again, or is this just a hysterical reaction to your gross little crush?” yoongi barely manages to sound interested in the answer, which namjoon appreciates.
“hey i just saw cryptid kid leaving, is namjoon -” jimin stops and yoongi kicks namjoon in the side, making him shout. “oh, cool. i was genuinely worried he was going to try to follow him home.”
which, rude. namjoon would never do such a thing. he knows he’s not good enough at being subtle to successfully pull it off.
“i’m in love. i haven’t gone crazy,” he pipes up pitifully from underneath the table and jimin crouches down to peer at him.
“i believe beyonce sunbaenim has made some points on the two going hand in hand, hyung.”
“in what field is beyonce your sunbaenim, park jimin?” yoongi asks, still rhythmically kicking namjoon, but super lightly and totally on beat, so namjoon doesn’t say anything about it.
“in the field of being a queen, obviously,” jimin replies, sticking his tongue out before he turns back to look at namjoon.
“so you’re lying on the ground because …”
namjoon sighs. he can’t believe he has to state the obvious.
“i’m lying on the ground because i’m love with someone lightyears out of my league, obviously. were you here today at all? didn’t you see him?”
instead of trying to tug namjoon up off the floor, jimin does something that makes yoongi squawk at him and then once yoongi drags his chair back out of his way, crawls to lie with his head resting on namjoon’s stomach.
“i mean. he wasn’t ugly. if you hosed him down and gave him all his shots he’d probably be okay looking?”
namjoon works and surrounds himself with philistines.
before he can viciously correct jimin in great detail and at length, another set of legs walks into view.
“hey is namjoon - oh. he’s only on the ground? i for sure thought he’d be trying to drown himself in the staff bathroom by now. is he crying at least?”
hoseok both knows namjoon a little better than jimin does and is also a total fucking asshole.
“what the actual fuck?” he asks, crouching down to look under the table and namjoon has no idea why any of what is currently happening might surprise him, because none of it hasn’t happened at least several times on these premises. “you’re puppy piling without me? did i kill one of your grandmothers or something? why would you do this to me?”
“hey hyungs there’s a line forming and - ooh! are we cuddling? HEY CHANNIE, COME GET SOME CUDDLES!” felix’s ridiculously deep voice offsets a wonderfully sweet disposition.
thankfully, yoongi gets up and steers him away and even as namjoon and jimin are getting to their feet and brushing themselves down, namjoon can hear him arranging after-hours cuddle time with the thunder cats, who yoongi often treats like actual cats.
if there’s one thing this friend group has, it’s a very healthy attitude toward physical affection.
honestly, most days it’s the only thing they have.
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“i just. i still can’t believe it. like i’m in such a state of absolutely and total shock that it doesn’t even bother me to give you this,” hoseok is saying, handing a ₩10,000 bill across the table to a crowing jimin when namjoon comes back from the bathroom.
they’re eating in today, partly because they’ve eaten out pretty much every day this week but mostly because jimin demanded that they ‘debrief’, whatever the fuck that means. namjoon suspects it’s not going to be fun for him, however it plays out.
he’s not wrong.
fifteen minutes later there’s beer coming out of jimin’s nose at yoongi’s impression of some “choice” namjoon quotes from today and namjoon honestly thought that was biologically impossible.
it’s not like any of what yoongi’s saying isn’t exactly what namjoon had truly said and yoongi’s namjoon impression is the best so far in their friend group and yet none of this is sitting right with namjoon.
“every single one of you is this pathetic about your crushes, you know that, right? like i’ve never seen anything like the scene that unfolded when seokjin came in for his interview.”
“remind me never to bring you with me to the gym, then,” seokjin says, climbing back into his seat over the back of the sofa rather than walking around it like a normal person. “besides, even if that wasn’t a perfectly proportionate reaction to all this,” and he gestures to his face, “it still wouldn’t be as hilarious as how sprung you are over this kid because it’s you.”
namjoon has no idea what he means by that.
“i have no idea what you mean by that,” he says.
“okay. tell me about the last person you had a crush on,” hoseok prompts and the others all seem to be waiting patiently, so namjoon humours him.
“it was jackson. you know this. you all know this. i crushed on him for like three months before he mentioned that he had a boyfriend who was studying in LA. i don’t understand the point you’re trying to make.”
“hyung, in those three months that you were crushing on jackson how many times did you lie on the floor about it?”
“um. none? but how is that -”
“and how many times did you offer to commit murder for jackson?”
“none, but i also haven’t offered to -”
“ddaeng!” yoongi interrupts, “over the course of the six hours you spent with jungkook today you offered to kill, in order: christiaan huygens, the delivery guy who called him twice for directions, whoever invented paper, dj khalid, no less than fourteen of his classmates and professor kwon, who you’ve described as a ‘father figure’ at least forty times since i’ve known you.”
“hyung!” jimin is scandalized, “you love paper! you make me go notebook shopping with you at least twice a month!”
“i’m just saying that maybe some thought should have been put into the potential pitfalls of the whole thing, is all. the paper cut jungkook got was so deep?”
“yeah he for sure would have bled to death right there in our store if you hadn’t saved the day by spending fifteen minutes picking out the perfect anpanman bandaid and then repositioning it sixty eight times before you couldn’t think of any other excuses to keep holding his hand.” seokjin hadn’t even been in work today, so namjoon doesn’t want to know how he knows all of that.
“and it’s not like that was even the first or only time you held his hand today, i might also add, with extreme prejudice,” yoongi says, his eyes gone like slits and his non-existent hackles raised to full height.
“you’re all making a much bigger deal out of this than is fair is necessary,” namjoon tries to protest, but seokjin stuffs a prawn cracker into his open mouth before he can continue.
“untrue. you’ve had crushes, joon-ah and you’ve even by the grace of whatever god does or doesn’t exist managed to date some people, but while it’s true that you’re a disaster in general, you’ve never in the history of any of us knowing you - and i take this opportunity to remind you before this year, you and yoongi had lived together for eight years - made such an unholy show of yourself over anyone or anything and i was there when tablo called you to ask if you’d be interested in working with him.”
namjoon has always hated how precisely and succinctly seokjin can break down a situation.
namjoon also hates that, though he admits so only begrudgingly, some points may have been made.
oh well. all this means is that namjoon has to revisit his decision to be lowkey about this.
which he can absolutely do, not a big deal. maybe he’s been a great big embarrassment in front of his friends, but all things considered he hasn’t done anything actually disastrous in front of jungkook yet. certainly nothing he can’t come back from.
“do you think i should have asked for his phone number so i could be being extremely lowkey and totally subtle about how i’m love with him?” namjoon wonders aloud.
“i honestly can’t wait to go to work on monday,” jimin says and namjoon doesn’t think that answers his question like, at all, but whatever.
jungkook probably won’t come back as soon as monday and that’s cool. namjoon is in no great hurry. he’s totally chill.
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by the time the monday lunch rush has finished up, namjoon is close to tears.
he really hadn’t expected jungkook to show up, though he’d hoped, so he doesn’t understand why his heart falls every time someone walks up who is distinctly not-jungkook. he’s also pretty confused by how this has happened like full hundreds of times already today without his heart ever jumping back up into a place that feels vaguely normal, probably survivable. with every new order he just feels worse and worse and worse and if this keeps up he might actually die? medical examiners might be sceptical about ‘a broken heart’ being a legitimate cause of death, but namjoon has read a lot and he’s a man of science, but some things just can’t be coincidence.
jungkook hasn’t come back and it’s literally killing him.
“i really thought you were too far gone into existential dourness to be this dramatic. i’m kind of impressed as much as i’m mostly just horribly embarrassed for you.”
namjoon isn’t going to correct the next four people at least who refer to yoongi as his “little” sidekick.
“i’m not even doing anything, hyung,” namjoon feels all kind of vitriolic inside, but he just can’t work up the energy to pack it into his words.
“uh, exactly,” yoongi says and namjoon wonders for the first time if it’s weird just how many of their conversations are had not even looking at each other because they’re both looking into cups of coffee like they’re reading tea leaves, instead, “four people have asked you to make their drinks extra hot today and you didn’t unhinge your jaw at any of them.”
“whatever,” namjoon says, “it’s whatever.” he switches out the shot glasses he’s been using for the last while and puts the ones he rinses up onto a shelf, upside down, to air dry. they’re kind of full of air, placed that way and he wonders if that’s better than being right way up but utterly empty.
“namjoon,” yoongi is saying urgently, “if you actually cry, i’m quitting, i just want you to know that.”
honestly, namjoon doesn’t have the energy to cry, he realizes when he does a quick stock take of his emotions. there’s just nothing there.
“bwuh,” he says to reassure yoongi and then starts to calculate how many shots of espresso he’s had so far today, because maybe the too-much, too-good race of his heartbeat when he’s over his caffeine limit would be better than, well, literally nothing.
just as he’s about to potentially blow his own heart up, someone else does it for him.
“oh joon-ah,” hoseok croons from across the floor and it’s like every cell in namjoon’s body goes super saiyan simultaneously. before he even turns around, he’s tasting colours, he’s smelling sounds, he can hear everyone within a hundred mile radius’ thoughts and hey that’s weird, they’re all screaming “JUNGKOOK IS HERE” at the top of their lungs inside their own heads.
and wow, jungkook is here.
he’s also wearing a tank top underneath his hoody and namjoon quickly revisits his ability to cry, because this is brand new and very effective motivation.
“hey,” jungkook says, smiling shyly at namjoon from underneath his wet bangs and then he flicks said bangs out of his face and namjoon can’t believe he has to make it through an entire conversation after he’s just been shot but god fucking help him he’s going to give it everything he’s got.
“hey,” namjoon says. there’s all of a sudden a lot happening inside of him, so loudly and so so much, that it comes out super soft, all small and barely there. “how did it go?”
“um, really well? until right now i wondered if the other day was some manic dream. i took my final, pretty much aced it i think, went home and passed out for two days straight, got up and went to the gym and then came straight here. i honestly wasn’t sure i didn’t hallucinate you.”
namjoon is going to have this man’s children, biology can fight him.
“c’mon, come back and tell me what was on the paper, yoongi will make you - wait, what do you drink when it isn’t finals week?”
“hi hyung,” jungkook waves over at yoongi and yoongi nods at him, “um. a flat white with an extra shot?”
“cool,” namjoon says, blinking at the stars in his eyes, because that’s what he drinks too.
“yeah, cool,” yoongi says, “let me just whip that right up, please take my shot puller and leave me to man the drinks all by myself. what a great and benevolent leader you are, namjoon ssi, it’s truly an honour to serve you.”
namjoon vaguely registers yoongi bowing ninety degrees at him but he doesn’t stop to wonder why because jungkook is still smiling at him and he’s still upright so that’s kind of him at max capacity right now.
“oh no,” hoseok says when jungkook tries to pay for his drink, “i’m pretty sure our namjoonie will bite you if you ever try to give us money again.”
jungkook stammers out a thank you and blushes a little as he tucks his wallet into his back pocket.
“well that’s interesting,” hoseok says and namjoon really doesn’t have time to stand around getting judged for his life choices. that’s pretty much all he does when isn’t working, so it’s essentially his one and only hobby at this point, though he can’t say he’s ever enjoyed it or like … voluntarily done it.
“the coffee here is the absolute best,” jungkook says, sipping at his drink once they’re settled down back at the scene of the crime. the ‘crime’ being jungkook stealing namjoon’s heart. namjoon mentally sentenced him to keep it for all of eternity.
“ah, thank you,” namjoon tells him, honestly struggling to remember a time when he’s been more proud of this business. they’ve won ‘local business of the year’ for six years straight, but that seems like nothing in the face of jungkook’s … face.
“did you tell me you’re the boss here? because i think i remember that, but you’re very young to own your business and you don’t really have a chaebol vibe …” jungkook tilts his head at namjoon’s outfit; black skinny jeans, beat up old hi-tops and a thrasher tee with a soft-worn flannel over it.
“i can wear suits to work if that’s what you’re into,” namjoon says and jungkook laughs, like he’s joking. which - to be clear - he absolutely is not.
“so how did that happen? how is all of this yours?” jungkook glances around him, eyes lingering on the a1 baby metal poster next to the milk fridge. namjoon hopes he’s impressed by how it’s signed.
“i got a job here when i was in high school and the original owner didn’t have any family so he kind of half adopted me. he died right around when i was finishing up my undergrad and he hadn’t told me he was going to, but he left this place all to me.”
“that’s so sad, hyung,” jungkook reaches across the table to put his hand on top of namjoon’s. namjoon takes the opportunity to note that jungkook has really nice hands. his veins are still way prominent after his workout, running thick up around his wrists and forearms and his fingertips are just slightly rough, enough that namjoon has to shift in his seat when jungkook starts to seemingly absentmindedly brush his fingers back and forth across namjoon’s knuckles. namjoon’s eyes start to water a little and he can’t tell if it’s because jungkook is so hot that it’s finally reduced him to tears, or because he hasn’t blinked since they sat down. honestly what kind of fool would look at the back of their own eyelids when they could look at jungkook instead?
“it’s okay,” namjoon reassures him and tries to convince himself of the same, even though right now it’s absolutely not the truth. “i mean obviously it was really tough at the time but i already had yoongi hyung and hoseok and jimin by then, so i had my family around me. this place was always my home so i’m really glad i got to stay.”
“and then he found me, so what more could a boy need, really?” never let it be said that kim seokjin passed up the chance to make a grand entrance. he’s leaning against the doorway into the stockroom, arms crossed behind his head and he’s doing what can only be described as ‘making eyes’ at jungkook. it’s like he picked up all the extra blinks namjoon has forgone, batting his eyelashes to boot.
“ugh,” namjoon says, unable to help himself and jin pauses his act to glare at him for a second. “this is jin hyung,” is about as succinct a summation as he can make for everything jin’s doing. namjoon has seen grown men and women fall on the floor at less attention from jin. jungkook is just a boy. a really really hot, very nicely muscled boy that namjoon wants to have all kinds of athletic sex with. if he looked up yoga classes for an hour last night only for jungkook to become another one of jin’s heartbroken hit ‘n’ runs, there will be hell to pay. namjoon will have to write four sad crooning records at absolute minimum and everyone knows he can’t sing for shit.
“is he, uh,” jungkook is frowning at jin, because there really is a god after all. namjoon can’t wait to tell the internet. “hi - hyung? do you have something in your eye? i’m jungkook. i’m namjoon’s -”
namjoon has to stop him there. just to let that sentence sit, already so completely and utterly perfect that he can’t imagine any other words needed to complete it. other than maybe “husband.” that could work for him.
jin stands up out of his seductive lean and comes right over to their table to lean down and peer into jungkook’s face. he lifts his hair back to look into first his left eye, then his right. then he starts to rummage around in the detritus of staff belongings at jungkook’s feet.
“hyung?” namjoon asks.
“in a minute, joon-ah. i need to find this visually impaired child his cane, he must have misplaced it.”
“jungkook sees just fine,” namjoon could also add that jungkook is fine, but seokjin can see that for himself, he doesn’t need namjoon’s help.
“and yet he isn’t dribbling yet,” jin says flatly, looking back up at jungkook briefly as if to check. his face falls when jungkook just stares back at him. “are you sure you’re okay? are you perhaps feral?”
jungkook looks at namjoon and namjoon looks right back at him.
“i mean, it’s been said. but i think i’m cool? just … confused?” jungkook is glancing between namjoon and seokjin now, openly lost.
“sexually?” seokjin sounds hopeful.
“no, i’m pan, i’m pretty sure,” jungkook sounds sure and namjoon is in love, has he mentioned?
“but let’s be clear about this - you’re not … affected? by all of this?” only seokjin could get away with gesturing at his own face with what can only be described as a flourish and a showy one at that.
“i mean. you’re not ugly?” jungkook asks and seokjin’s gasp is scandalised. “and that’s … cool, for you. but i’m not in love with you or whatever? is that something that happens right off the bat, around you?”
“yes,” seokjin says, emphatic.
“love at first sight is real and it is valid,” namjoon adds.
“sure,” jungkook agrees easy. “but i’m not in love with you, hyung,” he says to seokjin. “i’m - sorry?”
“meh,” seokjin says, shrugging like his entire world view hasn’t just been turned upside down, “you’re not me-levels of hot, but you’re hardly sorry looking.”
“i’ll kill you, hyung,” namjoon says, totally serious. “i love you, but i’ll kill you dead.”
“i understand little to none of this,” seokjin says, waving his hand at namjoon and jungkook collectively, which warms namjoon. they’re a ‘they’, in that moment and namjoon really likes how that sits with him. “but that’s hardly new. you mere mortals often interact in ways that puzzle the god-like me, so as you were, my friends, as you were.”
seokjin sweeps away. like, he literally grabs a broom as he goes and sweeps the floor on his way back out front.
“that was weird,” jungkook says and namjoon almost dies of relief.
“for sure, but that’s kind of par for the course at GUSH. you’re not tempted to leave and never come back?” it’s been known to happen. namjoon couldn’t even blame him.
“psh,” jungkook says, eyebrows scrunching up all cutely offended, “remind me to introduce you to my best friend. that was nothing.”
namjoon is frightened and intrigued.
“i’m frightened and intrigued,” he tells jungkook.
“you should be,” is all jungkook says and it sounds ominous to say the least.
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“you all powered up now, joon?” hoseok asks after jungkook leaves and namjoon wanders back out front for lack of anything else to do. honestly he’d kind of like to just sit in the back and daydream for a while, but he can make drinks while he does that, no big deal.
“i’m fine, hoseok,” namjoon anwsers, stopping in to hug up on hoseok from behind before he resumes his spot on the drinks line because namjoon loves hugging people and hoseok loves to be hugged.
“if you weren’t such a sub-y disaster i’d have wifed you like a decade ago,” hoseok chooses right now to inform namjoon and also their entire staff and also the whole clientele.
“no you wouldn’t have, i was waiting for jungkook. even if i didn’t know it yet,” namjoon corrects him and hoseok only laughs.
“you’re a gay trainwreck,” hoseok tells him, picking coin change up out of their tip jar to shower namjoon in, “a skinny legend.”
namjoon catches all the coins hoseok tosses his way and tucks them safely into yoongi’s pocket as his re-joins him on the front lines.
his staff are … colorful, to say the least.
“‘m not a stripper,” yoongi protests, “so why are you tipping me like one?”
namjoon pulls his own hood up and then does the same for yoongi.
“we’re bad boy barista rappers,” he declares, “we live on the fringe of society.”
“okay but what part of that means you’re suddenly sprung over a twinky little gym buddy college kid with a penchant for muscle tees cut down to his lats?”
“the part where i was born and happened to come to exist in the world like this, primed and ready to love him,” namjoon says, gesturing down at his person like it holds all the answers yoongi seeks.
“you really are a gay trainwreck,” yoongi concludes and namjoon has no idea why he sounds disappointed.
“isn’t that what i’ve been telling you all along?”
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