Work Text:
the walls of this hotel are paper thin.
last night i heard you making love to him
he stood there, just on the other side of the wall, waiting- waiting for any sign that jungkook has noticed his presence. the walls were thin, almost paper-y with how he can clearly hear them on the other side. namjoon stood there, numb from all the hurt and jealousy and insecurity that was thrown at him all at once. there were no tears falling, no heaving chest. no clenched fists. he felt hollow, like a part of him was taken out without his permission.
a part of him that he will never get back.
he can still hear jungkook moaning from the next room. a different name spilling out from the lips that he used to kiss every time, the same pair of lips that made countless promises to be with him forever. a different pair of hands explored every inch of jungkook’s body, the body he worships and adores. he took one look at the wall, as if seeing his lover become one with another person, and stood up. he knew what he had to do. namjoon is a smart man.
the air inside their shared apartment felt suffocating. entering their room felt strange. padding around made him feel foreign, as if touring another country for the first time. the sun shone brightly outside, casting a soft glow inside their room. he packed his things quietly, afraid that he might disturb the memories lingering in the room. he silently threaded around, careful not to touch any of jungkook’s things. namjoon took everything he owned before he met jungkook. he was going to leave everything that will remind him of the man with eyes that holds the whole galaxy in them.
any traces that namjoon once stayed in their small apartment were gone, except for the framed picture on their bedside table. a part of him was thinking about taking it, a memorabilia that he was once loved by someone who compared him to the moon during the darkest night. the better part of him decided to leave it be, reminding jungkook that he was and will always be loved by a man who gave him his entire world. somewhere at the very back of his mind, there was an itch to return his things the way it were and forget about everything.
you love him, it told him. forgive him, it pleaded.
he won’t do it again, namjoon. you love him, it repeated.
the key to their once shared apartment was placed on the kitchen table along with jungkook’s chances to explain himself and lure him back in with false promises and lingering touches. the space where he once felt the most comfortable in suddenly became insufferable. it robbed him of air and the hope that everything will all be right again. it made his skin crawl thinking about staying in a place where he doesn’t feel welcome anymore.
he doesn’t remember hailing a cab and going to yoongi’s, his entire life crammed inside three luggages and a box. when the older man opened the door, namjoon bursted into tears, walls that were carefully built went crumbling down as he dropped on the floor, hands clutching the older’s shirt for support. it felt like gasping for air after being underwater for a very long time. he felt pathetic crying in front of yoongi’s door, unable to form a coherent sentence. the older man ushered him inside before rushing to get his luggage. the heat from the sunshine outside felt stifling, mocking him about his pain and heartbreak.
“what happened, joon-ah?” yoongi was careful, moving softly around him, afraid that he might break apart with one wrong move. falling asleep on the couch after his emotional breakdown helped calmed him down even just for a bit. the other man let him cry, patiently waiting for him to start and explain what had happened. he knew that yoongi had the slightest idea, his things on the other room pretty much gave it away. but he was understanding, sitting with namjoon all throughout his incoherent rambling. having to think about what he had heard just a few hours (or has it been days? he wasn’t sure) ago made his throat tight and eyes prickle again. he didn't think he still had tears with how much he cried over someone who probably have forgotten all about him.
he took a deep breath to organize his thoughts. the feeling of soft, gentle rubs against his back helped. another deep breath to help him forget how jungkook sounded from the other room. yoongi's hands were now on top of his, thumb caressing his knuckles. a deeper breath to collect his words, not wanting to sound needy and desperate in front of his hyung. “he cheated on me,” and another before he choked on his next words. “i heard him,” his vision turned bleary, “someone sent me an address and told me he was there.”
it took yoongi a few minutes to process everything. then he was livid; pacing around the couch, jaw tight and knuckles turning white. namjoon was back to feeling numb and hollow. he's black, if black is an emotion; void of any light and hope. he's probably better off alone, insecurity and sadness slowly eating him from the inside out. he has always been by himself even before jungkook came, bringing blues and red and yellows into his monochromatic life. it was always jungkook who brought out the colours and melodies out of his pages.
once upon a time, namjoon was convinced that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with jungkook. to hell with what the people might think about them. he loves jungkook and jungkook loves him. the younger has told him numerous times about how much he has changed his life. “you made me a better man, hyung,” the younger would sometimes say, pressing kisses onto his giggling face. namjoon was so ready to spend the rest of his forever with jungkook that he once went ring shopping with his brother, pointing at rings he thought would look good on their fingers. he had the most fun looking at wedding bands and imagining how it’ll look like on their wedding day.
namjoon has spent days wallowing in his makeshift room in yoongi’s apartment. he stayed at the couch, curled up in a tiny, uncomfortable ball on his first night there. he stayed liked that, small and empty, muting out the whole world, until yoongi pulled him up and took him to his old work room. being inside sparked a tiny feeling of comfort and home, albeit the room being smaller than every other room in the house. it hugged him, making him feel loved and accepted- like nothing in the world can hurt him again. he allowed himself to be useless for a week, to deprive himself of any human contact, and then he’s going out and try again. he’s not going to let this heartbreak stop him from soaring again.
a blink and two years have suddenly passed by. namjoon has moved out of yoongi’s apartment a month after he was sure he can handle being alone by himself again. it took him a while to get used to the comfortable silence in his own place, moonlight and the bustling of the world below him whispering that he’s finally safe and healed. the colours were finally coming back to him, pastel-ly, as if waking up from a deep slumber. he sighed, smiling to himself, getting ready for another day tomorrow.
on a snowy december night, namjoon found himself going home with a new family member. kuu, a small black kitty with a small white spot on her tail, chose namjoon to be her destined owner when he passed by the local pound. he was looking at the kittens playing near the glass, some were jumping on each other while the others were huddled in a corner, enjoying each other’s warmth. and then there was his friend, looking back at him, big blue eyes shining. “i don’t have much, kuu, but i hope you’ll enjoy being with me for the rest of your life,’ he had just finished touring her around and setting up her litter. the kitten cuddled closer to his chest, softly rubbing her face against his shirt.
whispering, he said, “thank you for bringing colour into my life again”.