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It wasn’t that Namjoon hated Taehyung. At times though Namjoon certainly wished that he did. But one couldn’t just hate Kim Taehyung. Become short of breathe and let out inhuman squeaky sounds every time he saw Taehyung anywhere? Sure. Get so intimidated by his dark gaze and perfectly symmetrical features to the point of tripping over your own feet? Definitely.
Apologize to Taehyung for being a dickhead? Hard pass. Namjoon could barely function around him.
Act like an even bigger dickhead?
That sounded like something he could do.
So when Namjoon arrives at his mandated office hours 10 minutes late with coffee in hand, he doesn’t really expect anyone. Sure there might be one or two students who might pop by to try to weasel out the final exam questions out of him, but even that he doubts. This is exam week. Everyone is too busy staying up all night, typing up essays based on shoddy research and generally panicking. Visiting a teacher’s assistant is not part of anyone’s plan.
Instead of an empty office though he finds Taehyung sitting in the chair opposite Namjoon’s desk.
Kim fucking Taehyung.
“Uh,” Namjoon stops in his tracks. “H-hello.” The coffee cup in his hand wobbles.
The fact that Namjoon can even utter a word without collapsing onto himself is an accomplishment. Taehyung, a second year photography major taking up a sociology course so he and his best friend (boyfriend?) could spend time together. Taehyung who on the first day of class way back in September had approached Namjoon to ask about the course outline only for Namjoon to squeak out an answer and get the hell out of there. Taehyung with those brilliantly research assignments where he probably gave more of a fuck than actual sociology majors. It wasn’t enough that he looked the way he did. He had to be brilliant as well.
The thing about Taehyung was obvious. He was, Namjoon was quite sure, the most beautiful man he had ever seen. His delicate jawline, perfectly proportioned features, his eyes wide and expressive were terrifying in their own way. Namjoon understood the appeal perfectly. After all Namjoon had been minutely aware of Taehyung since the latter’s freshman year. Never had Namjoon thought they would even end up in the same class. Or in the same space.
Taehyung turned away from window which he had been facing and looked up Namjoon. “Hello. I was just thinking that perhaps I had the time wrong.” His words were careful and soft but his expression was absolutely blank.
Namjoon fought the impulse to just walk out of the room.
That perfectly blank face. Taehyung was almost out of this world like this, clothed entirely in black, leaning back into his rickety wooden chair, his one arm thrown over the back, his legs sprawled out. His hair dyed to the most glaring shade of red emphasized the pale pink of his lips. If anyone could think of Taehyung was fragile, they only had to look at him like this: the divine descended from the skies to amuse himself with the human ways.
“No, sorry. I’m late,” Namjoon walked in, dropping his book bag beside his desk. “Were you waiting long? Do you not get an assignment back in time? I can’t tell the exam questions but I can help you focus on the main areas of study.”
Taehyung blinked. “No, I just needed some help in understanding what Professor Jung taught in the last class.”
“Okay,” Namjoon paused. “Which part?”
“Uh, all of it?” Taehyung gave an embarrassed smile. Namjoon did not smile back. “It pretty much went over my head.”
“How did it all went over your head?” Namjoon raised an eyebrow. “You are the highest scoring student in class. Its not like you fell asleep or something.”
Silence.
“You did fell asleep,” Namjoon stated. He felt the sudden urge to massage his temples. Going over all the material which Professor Jung had gone over in the last class would at the very least take an hour. If it had been anybody else it would have been fine. After all Namjoon was being paid for this very reason. But being in the same room as Taehyung would give him palpitations. He was not going to survive this.
Taehyung shifted in his chair. “I couldn’t really help it. I had only caught three hours of sleep that night. And he was just speeding through all the material we hadn’t yet covered in class but we had to cover it right then because it was all supposed to be in the final exam.”
Namjoon frowned. “You should have tried harder.”
Taehyung pursed his lips. “Are you mad at me?”
Namjoon snapped his head up. “Wha-”
“You don’t like me, do you Namjoon-ssi?” Taehyung’s expression was perfectly blank again. “Every time I tried to talk to you after class you either averted your eyes or walked away.”
Namjoon flushed. His throat felt closed up. How was he supposed to respond to that?
“Its okay,” Taehyung picked up his book bag from the floor. “I’ll leave.”
As Taehyung walked out of the office, Namjoon knew that he would not need to look back in hindsight to know that he was a complete shit.
________
When Taehyung approached him after the final exam, Namjoon nearly had a heart attack. Taehyung had dashed into the exam room with sunken eyes and messy hair just a few minutes after the exam had already started and had plopped himself into the seat Jimin had saved for him. Standard behavior really for exam week. When the exam ended, he had just silently handed his answer sheet to Namjoon, refusing to meet his eyes.
Namjoon hadn’t know whether to be hurt or relieved.
What had been truly bewildering was afterwards when Namjoon had submitted the answer sheets to the department, he found Taehyung waiting for him outside in a different outfit and his hair neatly combed.
“Hello,” Taehyung gave a small smile. “Can we talk?”
“Uh yes?” Namjoon choked out because honestly he had expected Taehyung to never look at him again.
“Thank you for sending your notes to the entire class,” Taehyung’s gaze was so clear and focused. Namjoon felt himself slipping. “You sent it after … our meeting.” Taehyung fumbled as his cheeks became pink. “Did you do it for me?”
“Well, yeah,” Namjoon’s voice cracked. God. “I was at fault.”
Taehyung shuffled his feet. “I thought you hated me or something.”
“I don’t hate you,” Namjoon coughed. “or something.”
Taehyung smiled, his widest one yet (at least for Namjoon). “Can I take you out for coffee?”
No, absolutely not, Namjoon wanted to cry out. Small sentences were difficult as it were but to make a conversation? With Taehyung? When his conversation repertoire consisted of his masters thesis and Kenderick Lamar? Was he insane?
Apparently yes.
“Sure,” Namjoon squeaked out. No doubt he was going to humiliate himself but at the very least he would get free coffee out of it (and the memory of Taehyung treating him to coffee).
It didn’t turn out to be as bad as it could have been. Taehyung had an absolute knack for moving the conversation along. All under one hour Namjoon discovered that Taehyung was from Daegu (the highlight of entertainment had been the local arcade where half of the machines were broken). He had three dogs and a cat back at home and was just now cajoling his roommate to let him adopt another dog. Although Jimin hadn’t been receptive to the idea so far.
“He just thinks, hyung,” Taehyung whined, “that all the responsibilities will fall on his shoulders because I’m away so often which is just ridiculous.”
“Oh,” Namjoon tried not to focus on the fact that Taehyung had transitioned to hyung so easily. “Why are you away often?”
Taehyung blinked. “I sometimes model?”
“Oh,” and that was pretty much all that Namjoon could manage.
“But the thing is, hyung,” Taehyung continued, “I’m not away that often? Its just sometimes I’ll be away for a photo shoot for 18 hours every two weeks and sometimes for a couple of hours during and I guess I am very busy during Seoul Fashion week but its not really a lot?”
Namjoon couldn’t exactly remember what garbled reply he gave to that but the topic had then turned towards him. If Namjoon ever thought Taehyung scatterbrained, the idea of it vanished now. He asked a lot of questions but knew almost instinctively which topics to pursue and which ones to leave well alone. It was only when Namjoon was halfway through his monologue on the Black Panther soundtrack did he catch sight of the clock on the wall and flushed.
”Sorry,” Namjoon mumbled. “I’m taking too much of your time. You probably have exams to study for.”
“Fuck the exams,” Taehyung said so easily and Namjoon felt his heart give away a little.
--------
That was the last they had seen of each other before the winter break started. Namjoon had exchanged numbers with Taehyung but he doubted as to whether their paths would ever cross again. After all Namjoon would be graduating in five months time and there was no reason for Taehyung to contact him again. Or so Namjoon thought.
“He brought me coffee,” said Namjoon entering the apartment he shared with Yoongi. He dropped his bag on the floor and kicked it away before collapsing on the couch.
“Who?” Yoongi mumbled from his place on the floor surrounded by laptop, headphones and music sheets.
“Taehyung,” Namjoon fiddled with the loose thread from his jacket. “You know that kid from class.”
“Who?”
“The model, Yoongi hyung!”
Yoongi blinked. “Oh right, Jimin’s soulmate. The model. Why does it matter that he brought you coffee?”
“I don’t know its just he so fucking beautiful and I’m stuck in this drab little office in a stupid data entry job and I don’t even know how he found out that I worked there. Its just embarrassing when I’m like this and he is just so--” Namjoon sat up. “Wait, he and Jimin are together?”
Yoongi shrugged. “Maybe? I don’t know. They were screaming that they were each other’s soulmates at the top of their lungs and I just happened to be nearby.” Yoongi paused to scribble something on a music sheet. “A bunch of idiots,” he grumbled. “They make far too much noise.”
“You say that about everyone,” Namjoon moved to lie on the couch with its peeling leather. “Hyung?”
“Yeah?”
“Could you… could you ask around if they are together?”
Namjoon waited for the dreaded follow up question as in why do you want to know or who cares if they are dating or not?, but none came and he let out the breathe he was holding. He wasn’t that interested in the answer but Taehyung was an enigma. He was an open book but every facet of him was such a novelty and Namjoon wanted to figure him. He wanted to crawl through his insides and figure out what made Taehyung Taehyung.
As Taehyung puzzled his thoughts, his lack of presence in the next a few days was a sore point for Namjoon. Since his casual drop in with coffee, there had been radio silence. It absolutely did not help that Namjoon’s fellow coworkers who had been so utterly charmed by Taehyung made repeated coy suggestions to him to bring his friend around again.
It took sometime (exactly four days), but Taehyung did come back, waiting with a two cups of hot chocolate, tired eyes and a boxy grin as Namjoon left work for the day.
“I thought you weren’t coming back,” Namjoon remarked as he took a sip of the hot chocolate. He really ought to return the favor with how many coffees and hot chocolates he had gotten from Taehyung.
If anything Taehyung’s smile got wider. “You thought about me, hyung?” He chuckled as Namjoon choked on his drink, taking out a napkin from his pocket to dab at Namjoon’s mouth. “I had to go to Jeju Island for work but I’ll be here in Seoul for the rest of winter break.”
“Ah.” Conscious of his curious coworkers leaving work, Namjoon motioned to Taehyung to fall into step with him. “I’ll walk you home. You look exhausted.”
“Long hours, hyung. I try to squeeze in as much work as I can during breaks and vacations because, you know, working consistently during the semester can be difficult.” Taehyung paused. “And, well, my expiry date is near.”
“Expiry date?”
“Modelling is not a long term career, you know?” Taehyung sighed. “Two years ago I was the fresh face and now I get told about the fresh faces. I got three years left at best.”
“That sucks,” The words were so profoundly inadequate that all that Namjoon could do at the moment was not kick himself. Should he pat Taehyung’s back? Change the subject to avoid further discomfort? But won’t it look terrible to change the subject just as Taehyung was opening up? Maybe he wanted to talk to someone about it? Maybe he didn’t and had just approached the topic because Namjoon was a stupid conversationalist and could not talk about anything other than his favorite musician of the moment (Frank Ocean by the way).
“Its alright, hyung,” Taehyung smiled at him as if he could see through Namjoon’s troubled thoughts and had realized the good intentions behind them. “I knew it was coming. Jimin and I planned my career out early on, you know. Its modelling for now while completing my photography major. ”
“Is Jimin that guy who sat next to you in class?” Namjoon tried not to sound too interested. “I think Yoongi hyung mentioned him. They are both music majors, aren’t they?”
“That’s right. He told me where you were working.”
“Jimin?”
“Yoongi hyung.”
That fucker. Why hadn’t he said anything? “I didn’t know you knew Yoongi hyung.”
“I had to meet him when Jimin literally would not shut up about him,” Taehyung made a face. “He really respects him a lot. He won’t admit it but I’m convinced he has a crush.” Taehyung playfully narrowed his eyes at Namjoon. “Don’t tell anyone this, hyung.”
Namjoon stopped short in his tracks. “Oh. I thought you and Jimin…” He flushed and took a quick sip of the hot chocolate. Fuck, he could feel his ears turn red.
Taehyung looked up at Namjoon. “What did you think, hyung?” When Namjoon remained quiet, Taehyung took a step closer. “Hyung, tell me.”
What fucking hell was this? Namjoon swallowed and raised his gaze to meet Taehyung’s before looking away almost immediately. “Don’t look at me like that,” he mumbled.
“Look at you how, hyung?” Taehyung was tall but not as such as Namjoon but he was standing so close that he could feel him everywhere.
“You know… when you get that blank look,” mumbled Namjoon still looking down at his hot chocolate. “Like you could be thinking anything and everything. That you can see through me and you are beyond everything and me. Like I can’t even touch you.”
“Hyung,” Taehyung whispered and Namjoon felt Taehyung move in and it took another second for him to realize that Taehyung was kissing him.
It was only for a few seconds but when Taehyung stepped back, Namjoon’s heart lurched. “Taehyung, I’m not…,” he garbled. “I don’t…” He forced himself to look at Taehyung. Blank Tae.
“No?” Taehyung breathed.
Namjoon shook his head, his heart giving another lurch. He actually liked Taehyung. He wanted another friend besides Yoongi but not this way he couldn’t.
--------
It turned out that Namjoon need not have worried. The next day just as he left work he saw Taehyung standing on the same spot all wrapped in a winter’s jacket, a fluffy hat and a pink scarf.
“Hyung!” Taehyung smiled. “I didn’t bring anything today but I just passed by a cute cafe on my here. Do you want to try it out?”
The truth was Namjoon was bone fucking tired. He had spent his night tossing and turning only to fall asleep in the early hours of morning and had woke up late. He had to run all the way to work just to arrive ten minutes late and receive a scolding from his manager about kids these days who had simply no work ethic.
Taehyung had remained in his thoughts the entire day. He had alternated between being flattered that Taehyung of all people had found him worthy to kiss him to fucking shit Taehyung had kissed him to fucking hell why had Taehyung had kissed him? The idea that it had been a set up or some sort of a dare had crossed his mind once or twice (or three times every hour) but he rejected it every time. First, such ignoble things only happened in films or in high school. Second and more importantly, Taehyung just did not seem like the type.
By the time work ended Namjoon had just wanted to go home, crawl into his bed with his softest blanket and mournfully listen to Leonard Cohen. But now Taehyung is here and he still wanted to spend time with Namjoon despite him being the biggest loser with his only possible redeeming quality being his near encyclopedic knowledge of music which had utterly no use whatsoever because he could not use it to craft jokes, tell intimate stories and be a delight as a whole the way Taehyung was.
“I didn’t think you would come back,” said Namjoon shifting his weight from one foot to another. “Since you know yester-”
“I know, hyung” Taehyung cut in. He bit his lip and looked away. “I misunderstood the situation.” He turned his head back towards Namjoon, looking at him underneath his lashes. “I would still like us to be friends though.”
It was the first time for Namjoon to see Taehyung embarrassed with a blush rising on his cheeks and his eyes glittering. Even yesterday after their kiss it had been Namjoon who had given out some excuse before practically running away. It was almost a relief to see Taehyung like this. As if him and Namjoon were one and the same.
“Yes,” Namjoon breathed, “lets be friends.”
And that’s how it began. Winter break meant that Namjoon’s schedule was less hectic than usual. While Taehyung disappeared for a day or two for his photo shoots, their meets were pretty regular. The apartment Taehyung shared with Jimin was closer to Namjoon’s work and more often than not he found himself getting coffee with Taehyung or going out for dinner. Jimin had gone back to his hometown while Yoongi remained the music building only venturing out occasionally.
So for the time being it was just him and Taehyung. Although he was sure that Taehyung had other friends, people far more entertaining and attractive than him (he had seen enough of Taehyung’s Instagram posts), Taehyung himself never made him feel inadequate. To be sure Taehyung didn’t need to, Namjoon did a perfectly marvelous job of it himself. To say that he was shocked when Taehyung told him that he had actually been intimidated by him was the understatement of the year.
“Yes its true,” said Taehyung giggling at Namjoon’s expression as they sat in a cafe. “I remember you took over for Professor Jung when he didn’t show up and you were so brilliant and eloquent. You explained the concepts so well, much better than he ever did.”
“Ah, well,” Namjoon flushed, “its part of my job.”
“I know, hyung,” Taehyung smiled. “You are just so much better than everyone else. I read all of your comments on paper very carefully you know.”
Namjoon looked at him in surprise. “You read all that that? Yoongi hyung told me to stop wasting my time since no one ever went through their paper again after submitting it.”
“I wanted to do better. Though, hyung,” Taehyung bit his lip, “it didn’t help though that you would turn the other way every time you saw me coming.”
“Ah, you still remember that,” Namjoon covered his face his hands. “It was so embarrassing.” He dropped his hands back on his lap and shuddered. “I couldn’t help it you know. With you looking like that.”
Taehyung cocked his head to the side. “Looking like what?”
“Oh come on,” Namjoon picked up his coffee to take a sip. “You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in real life. I can’t believe you were intimidated by me. I was seriously intimidated by you. I mean who looks like that?”
Taehyung giggled. “I’m not that good looking though?”
“For God’s sake, Taehyung,” Namjoon said with disgust. “You are fucking beautiful. You know how people go on and on about how beauty is in the eye of the beholder? Well, no one can say that shit about you. You are objectively beautiful. It would be crazy fucking insane to deny it.”
“Hyung,” Taehyung bent over laughing, “just the other day stylist noona told me to take better care of my skin. Designers are always passing me over because I’m not fair enough.”
“Idiots,” Namjoon scowled. “I’m serious, Taehyung. The only reason that girl at the counter did not faint is because of your hair situation,” Namjoon motioned towards Taehyung’s hair where his roots had grown out covering his top half of his head with his natural dark hair with his red hair still present in the fringes.
Taehyung ran his hand through his hair. “Its fine for now. I don’t have any shoots coming up and besides, its vacation. I just want to lie in bed all day and catch up on anime these days. What about you, hyung?”
Namjoon sighed. “Work and fill out the teacher assistant applications for the next semester.” He paused. “Although, Yoongi has been working on some music these days. He been so damn secretive about it. Maybe I’ll get him let me listen to it this weekend.”
“You’re really into music, hyung,” Taehyung commented. “I’m surprised you aren’t a music major.”
Namjoon coughed. “Well a couple of years back I used to be an underground rapper.”
“Hyung, what?” Taehyung sat up.
“Yeah,” Namjoon fingered the corner of his shirt. “I don’t like people knowing so don’t tell anyone else, okay?”
“Can I listen to your work, hyung?” Taehyung leaned across the table, his elbows on the table, his eyes shinning and hot chocolate forgotten.
“No way,” Namjoon balked. “Absolutely not. Its rubbish.”
“I can’t imagine anything you being involved in being rubbish, hyung,” said Taehyung. “I want to hear it.”
“No, Taehyung-Ah,” Namjoon’s laugh sounded strain even to his ears. “Besides I have left it behind. It wasn’t for me.”
Taehyung blinked. “Why wasn’t it for you?”
“It just wasn’t,” Namjoon fiddled with the menu card left lying on the table, desperately wishing to leave the topic behind, not knowing why he had brought it up in the first place.
Taehyung was silent.
“I was a kid,” Namjoon mumbled. “It was just something I really wanted to do at the time.” He paused. “I even got offered a trainee contract at this company. But my parents… especially my mother,” he trailed off, not able to look at Taehyung. He squared his shoulders. “She wasn’t okay with me pursuing it. That I needed to have a stable job. I was very angry about it for a lot of years after that”
“Now?”
“Now I just flashes of it. At one time I lived off at that anger.”
“You must have so many regrets, hyung.”
Namjoon didn’t look up. “Well yeah but that’s life you know. There’s nothing I can do about it now.”
“You can go back to it,” said Taehyung with deliberate care. “Its not too late.”
“What?” Namjoon looked up in alarm. “Taehyung, no. Its just too out of my grasp now.”
“Hyung, you talk as if your life has passed you by,” Taehyung reached out to clasp Namjoon’s hand. “Music makes you so happy. Its okay to come back to it.”
“Taheyung, no,” Namjoon made a pained sound. Why couldn’t he just leave it? “Its like reopening a wound.”
“You seem in pain now without it,” Taehyung kept his grip soft. “Even before you told me this you looked so sad sometimes and other times so angry. Its eating you up, hyung.”
“You don’t get it, my mother…” Namjoon removed his hand from Taehyung’s grasp. “I can’t go against her again. We barely survived it the last time. Even now there are days when I can’t even look at her or hear her voice. Its just too much.” He felt absurdly close to tears. “I don’t want to go through it again.”
“It was different back then, hyung,” Taehyung hesitated. “Your mother probably thought she was protecting you. Now you are an adult. She can no longer stand in your way,” he paused. “Unless you let her.”
Namjoon clenched his fists underneath the table. “That’s easy for you to say. Your parents supported you all the way, didn’t they?”
“Yes,” Taehyung looked down on to his lap. “But there were always times when I wish they hadn’t.”
“Taehyung, stop,” Namjoon’s voice finally broke. “It destroyed me. I don’t ever want to go back to it.”
--------
After that there was no contact. Well, there was no contact from Namjoon’s side. Taehyung had send him a text asking him to meet up but perhaps understanding that Namjoon might need space, he hadn't pursued it nor did he show up at his work. At first, Namjoon was relieved. He couldn't face Taehyung all over again just to justify his choices. It pained him to even think about it. He couldn't even talk to Yoongi about it. He still remembered when four years ago he had told Yoongi that he was leaving music behind, that he no longer wanted to rap or to write songs. Yoongi had kept his expression carefully blank and had doctored his words with care, but Namjoon had caught it, a flicker of pity and impatience.
Yoongi’s situation hadn’t been much different than Namjoon’s. Hell it could easily be said that his was worse. His parents had been just as critical as Namjoon’s with the added element of crippling poverty always hovering on the horizon. Namjoon never had to worry about how he was going to eat or of the roof over his head. That had just made him feel even more pathetic. And although he hadn’t meant to give up on his songwriting at that time, with time it became an excruciating exercise, with his words forced from him were locked in a repeated exercise of expressing anger towards the world and internalizing hatred within himself.
Every time he would work himself into a fever pitch, depriving himself of food or sleep to the point the only thing driving him forward would be anger burning through every inch of him. He stopped taking his parents’ phone calls, avoided any of his friends who were even marginally involved in the music industry and put a stop to his social media. Anything and everything close to his past life was too much, too close.
In the end, he had put a stop to songwriting as well. It had been conscious decision. Songwriting, rapping, living and breathing music had poisoned everything in him, reminded him too much of something, that if he gave into it would turn a flicker into a raging storm. His fingers still itched occasionally and sometimes late at night, his mind just ran and ran, his heart thrummed as if begging to go back. He didn’t give in. He had a feeling it would destroy him all over again if he just let it.
So when Taehyung didn’t push on meeting up or show up at his work, Namjoon had been glad. It had been the first time he had spoken up about his music to someone. Everyone around him knew or they didn’t. But as days added up and turned into a week, Namjoon found himself picking up his phone again and again, wondering why Taehyung hadn’t texted him again or sent him a picture of a cute dog just so they could open the conversation on something.
“You could just text him,” said Yoongi on a rare occasion they were eating together.
“No,” Namjoon looked mournfully at his cellphone before putting it away. “I don’t want to intrude. He probably has cooler friends to hang out with.”
“God,” Yoongi said with disgust. “You're texting him, not stalking him.”
“Its not that easy, hyung,” mumbled Namjoon. He poked the rice in his bowl with his chopsticks. “Anyway why are did you pick this place? Isn’t it too fancy for us?”
“I’m paying, moron” Yoongi grumbled. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”
“You? Paying?” Namjoon raised his eyebrows. “Who the fuck died and left you an estate? Or do you have a fever or something? Here let me check.”
Yoongi swatted Namjoon’s hand away from his forehead. “Well, my mixtape got picked up.”
“What?” Namjoon’s mouth dropped open. “What?”
“Yeah,” Yoongi’s smile was hesitent. “I found out this morning. It hasn’t sunk in yet.”
Namjoon couldn’t help himself from reaching across the table to grasp Yoongi by his shoulders. “I’m so happy,” he managed to choked out. “It finally happened.”
Yoongi’s smile got wider. “Are you? Truly?”
“Of course,” Namjoon truly was. How could Yoongi even think that he wouldn’t be? “You finally got it. You worked so hard. I can’t believe its paying off.” His eyes were shinning with tears, he knew. But they were the good kind of tears. “I’m so happy.” And he felt it.
--------
If people were to ever ask (no one actually ever did though), Taehyung could easily say that he feel for Namjoon at first sight. Their professor hadn’t come in and Namjoon had taken over. He was ridiculously tall and lanky with his clothes hanging over him, his eyes sharp and knowing. He was so brilliant and enunciated every concept so clearly and answered every question so well that by the end of it Taehyung was sure that if he was to ever fall in love (for the fourth time) then this would be it.
“That was not the first time you saw him though,” Jimin helpfully supplied.
“Huh?”
“He was present in every class since the beginning of the semester. He invigilated every quiz and handed back our assignments a couple of times. Didn’t you notice him then?”
“Shut up Jimin.”
Of course Taehyung had been aware of Namjoon’s existence before then. He had gotten back his assignments and saw the tremendous amount of red ink and had his heart sink like everyone else. But it wasn’t as if his paper had been terrible or anything. Namjoon just gave a lot of constructive criticism. Taehyung could do constructive criticism. But after that class, Taehyung founded himself looking at Namjoon in every class. It didn’t help though that his seat was in the second row and Namjoon sat at the back always scribbling away at something.
Taehyung had found other ways though. Waiting outside before class and after. But even then Namjoon always seemed to be so busy rushing in and out, always with a stack of paper and his spectacles pushed up his forehead. Until of course, one day when he after much stalking and bribery, discovered Namjoon’s office-
“He sent an email about it before the semester even started, Tae.”
“Jimin!”
Anyway, after much stalking and bribery (no thanks to Jimin who could have just told him to look it up in his email), he discovered the exact location of Namjoon’s office and his office hours. It just so happened to be at eight in the morning on a Saturday so after Taehyung was done with his work by quarter to eight, he practically had to sprint back to the campus. Only he had arrived before Namjoon and was just trying to tidy himself when he caught sight of him from the corner of his eyes and watched as Namjoon caught sight of him, visibly balked, turned and walked the other way.
It had been the single most embarrassing moment in his life.
“What about the time at a faculty student event when you tripped on a rock, rolled down a hill only to steam role over your much admired professor who you claimed was the reason for your love of photography?”
“Jimin?”
“Yeah?”
“Just die.”
It wasn’t just once. It was then Taehyung realized that Namjoon pretty much went out of his way to avoid him at every turn. He answered his queries through email well enough but trying to catch hold of him in the offline world was just impossible. It wasn’t that Taehyung thought Namjoon hated him, but maybe he thought he was irritating or something? So Taehyung cut back on the number of emails and doubly focused on his studies because he clearly had to impress Namjoon somehow. Only that didn’t cut it either.
“Why,” Jungkook had wanted to know, “would your paper on Marxist principles applied in the modern state work when your face didn’t?”
“Because,” Seokjin had responded with all the everlasting patience of a father towards a bumbling child, “when you’re not as handsome as I am, you need every bit of help you can get.”
It was then on the first day of snow when Jimin and Taehyung had come running out of their respective classes only to clash together in the central courtyard, giggling and laughing, taking turns to twirl the other when Taehyung had looked up and caught sight of Namjoon. He had been watching from the window, looking particularly malevolent.
“He hates me.”
“Well,” said Jungkook, his eyes trained on the television, “as my grandmother always used to say you’re not a 100 dollar bill. I think the point was that not everyone you come across is going to like you.”
“The fuck?” Jimin snapped as Taehyung wordlessly gaped at Jungkook. “Taehyungie is worth more than a 100 dollar bill.”
Jungkook had just rolled his eyes.
Taehyung had just lost about all hope then. Jimin, like a true soulmate, sensing his interference was finally warranted after he finding Taehyung in his pajamas crying over his diet and unrequited love as he shoveled chicken wings and chocolate ice cream into his mouth, had dragged him to Yoongi.
“He doesn’t hate you,” Yoongi took a sip of his coffee. Coffee which hadn’t been brought by his own money apparently tasted the best.
“He totally hates me,” Taehyung whimpered. “He glared at me yesterday.”
“That’s his face sometimes,” Yoongi took another sip. “Trust me, he doesn’t hate you.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. Just get him coffee sometimes. He’s a very deprived soul.”
“Are you like,” Taehyung’s eyes were shinning, “my Yoda?”
“The fuck?”
So maybe Namjoon didn’t hate him. Taehyung could work with that. Sure it wasn’t smooth sailing always but Taehyung could be consistent. He brought Namjoon coffee which had scored him some crucial points. Everything was fine until Taehyung had kissed him and Namjoon had just froze up in his arms. Which fuck. But fine whatever. Taehyung could be friends. Namjoon was cool in smart intellectual nerdy sort of a way. He knew everything and still didn’t think Taehyung was the most boring person ever. Now that they were friends, Namjoon would even get this slow smile as if he just couldn’t help himself whenever he caught sight of Taehyung waiting outside his office.
Taehyung sighed.
And then he just had to go ruin it.
“He definitely hates me, Jimin,” Taehyung cried over the phone with Jimin being in Busan of all places.
“God, Tae, its four in the morning.”
“You know after that fight you told me to give him space? Well, I did and then yesterday, I texted him a picture of a cute puppy and then after a couple of hours he texted me a gif of a kitten playing. Then I texted him asking to meet up. He still hasn’t replied.”
“He’s probably out celebrating with Yoongi. Its all over Instagram and Facebook.”
Taehyung paused. “I didn’t check. I've been trying on one suit after another for this catalogue for the past eight hours and before that I had this audition for-”
“Tae,” Jimin interrupted, his tone thick with sleep. “My point is that he’s out partying. He’ll reply when he can.”
“Okay.” That made sense. “Wait, what are they celebrating?”
“Yoongi hyung got his mixtape picked up by some studio or something like that.”
Oh.
Oh fuck.
--------
Snow was fallen the entire day and it had just cleared up when Namjoon left work. His winter jacket felt entirely inadequate, with the frigid air reaching into his insides until he felt more like the cold hard cement than an actual living breathing creature. Never mind the fact that despite whatever warmth his apartment represented, it was also the source of the building dread in his chest.
It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy for Yoongi. He was. He absolutely was. Everything he saw that smile on Yoongi, he found himself beaming from ear to ear. Every time Yoongi whooped with joy, Namjoon whooped with joy as well.
It was just excruciating in its own way. The news had gotten around and all of their friends from the music industry wanted to meet up, go out for diner, go out for drinks, amble together till early hours marveling over Yoongi’s good fortune. Namjoon liked being in the midst of it but when it was over he would realize how much it had taken from him to sit through all of that laughing and smiling.
The work which seemed so mind-numbing and boring now offered a reprieve. He still hadn’t texted Taehyung. He knew that as soon as he did, he would have to tell him about Yoongi’s news. He didn’t know what would be worse, seeing Taehyung’s breathtaking smile genuinely happy where Namjoon so desperately struggled to feel the right things. Or, Taehyung’s expression full of pity, knowing that Yoongi had succeeded where Namjoon never could and it was probably killing him inside.
As days added up, the more he put off texting Taehyung, the harder it became. Although Taehyung texted him pictures of dogs he came across, Namjoon had just responded with gifs and emojis, carefully sidestepping any requests for a meet-up. He would have probably felt more guilty if he wasn’t already aware of Taehyung’s busy schedule through his Instagram posts, with backstage selfies from photo shoots, auditions and whatnot.
He did want to see Taehyung all the same. He wanted to skip over the part of telling him about Yoongi and go directly to having minor quibbles in coffee shops. Or go for pizza because it happened to be Taehyung’s cheat day. Or watch an artsy french film because Taehyung was the only person besides Namjoon who liked that sort of thing. Or just sit outside with Taehyung breathing in the cold air. Silence with him just felt more than conversation, music, feeling with others.
Right now he would give anything for that. With every step his dread built. Plans had already been made to go clubbing tonight. It had been eating away at him but he had no good excuse available. He did suppose he could tell Yoongi the truth and Yoongi would understand perfectly as he always did because he too had been in Namjoon’s shoes once. But it seemed so overly cruel to ask Yoongi who had been so happy lately to pay attention to Namjoon’s discomfort.
He was going to be late now but he couldn’t bring himself to hurry. He would hurry after reaching his apartment. He couldn’t hurry now. He wanted to be anywhere else right now. There just wasn’t anywhere else he could be.
As Namjoon turned into his street, he stopped short, possibly his heart with him, his hold on his bag going slack. Underneath the moonlight, almost lit by it, there was Taehyung standing outside his apartment building. His hair blue, he was part and in one with the moon, standing in quiet street where street lights were dim and flickered. Namjoon felt his knees weaken and the lump inside his chest which had been building and building, burst open, rising from his chest and choking his throat.
“Tae,” he breathed. Namjoon felt wetness on his cheeks. “Taehyung,” he whispered. He was just too far away.
Just then Taehyung looked up. He was about to smile as he caught sight of Namjoon but then he stilled. His mouth moved but Namjoon couldn’t hear him. Not from this distance. Taehyung probably realized it himself, taking a step and then another.
Namjoon let go of his bag, let it fall to the ground and then he was running straight into Taehyung’s arms, pressing his face into Taehyung’s shoulder as he sobbed, his body shaking, his legs barely holding him up. With Taehyung’s arms locked around him, he must have stood there for an 10 minutes, 20 minutes, an hour, Namjoon couldn’t tell. Every time he managed to get a semblance of grip on himself, he would collapse all over again.
“Its not that I’m not happy,” Namjoon tried to explain himself afterwards as Taehyung pressed him to have some hot chocolate and a sandwich later in the apartment he shared with Jimin, with Jimin still thankfully in Busan.
“I know, hyung,” Taehyung whispered, his knees knocking against Namjoon’s underneath the kitchen table.
“I’m so fucking proud of him,” Namjoon tried again. “I want to go up to every single person and be like this is my fucking best friend, you know?”
“I know.” Taehyung picked Namjoon’s right hand from his lap and held it. “I know, hyung.”
“But its also …” Namjoon’s voice trailed off, “… too much. Too close,” he finished. He paused, “I’m a fucking shithead.”
“No, hyung,” Taehyung kissed the back of his hand. “You’re human.”
They sat in silence with Namjoon holding Taehyung's hand, relieved he was here and not anywhere else.
“I’m sorry,” said Taehyung after a while, “about the last time we met.”
“Its okay.”
“But, hyung,” Taehyung had the most softest expression. Namjoon felt something lurch inside his chest. “I can’t regret what I said.”
He looked at Namjoon as if waiting for him to say something. When he didn’t, Taehyung continued, “I started when I was fifteen. At that time I wasn’t even modelling. I was just some trainee and already there was so much focus 12 hour days, being perfect, not being able to meet my parents and just being so hungry all the time.”
He paused before continuing, his tone quieter. “Even the people working in it. They’re not …” He trailed off as if struggling to find the right words. “They’re people who are working with children and teenagers who are always tired, hungry, away from their parents. Hell, parents who need their kids to work to get money. Those people, they just like all of that a little too much, you know?”
Taehyung let go of Namjoon’s hand but before he could move it away, Namjoon took hold of it.
“They can get away with a lot, hyung,” Taehyung whispered. “It wasn’t that they did anything illegal or something like that. Not with me at least. Its just they were aware of it and make you aware of it as well.”
“Creating an awareness of violence so readily available,” Namjoon tightened his hold on Taehyung. “Did you leave?”
Taehyung’s mouth twisted itself into a wry smile. “I got cut. I was just about to graduate from high school as well so I just enlisted for mandatory military service.”
“I’m sorry,” Namjoon put his head on Taehyung’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“Hyung,” said Taehyung. “Its okay now.”
There they stayed for hours, listening to their breathing until their eyes were heavy with sleep. Namjoon put up a token protest when Taehyung insisted he stay over but even he knew he couldn’t go back with it being as late as it was. He especially did not want Yoongi to see his face swollen from crying. But as hours passed he just found himself restlessly turning from one side to another, his fingers itching and trembling, hyperaware of Taehyung sleeping just in the next room, until finally he got up, took out his notebook from his backpack and wrote.
He crept back into Jimin’s bed hours later, lyrics spinning and rebuilding in his head but the itch in his fingers was gone.
He would call this one Moonchild.
----------
“You know what I want?” Yoongi snapped as he and Namjoon made their way to Taehyung and Jimin’s apartment.
“What, hyung?” Namjoon carefully pulled his beanie to cover his ears to protect himself form cold weather.
“To be a stone in the next life,” Yoongi grumbled. “All of these social commitments are too much for me.”
“You have been to only three parties in the last two weeks after two years of not going to any,” Namjoon laughed. “Two of them were for you. I think you’ll survive.”
“I’ll have you know that I’m only going to this one for you."
“I know, hyung,” Namjoon smiled. “I don’t want Taehyung to think he has to pay extra attention to me at his own party. He has loads of other friends as well.”
Yoongi snorted. “Taehyung would gladly spend the entire time with you if you just let him.”
“You know it isn’t true,” Namjoon said lightly trying to ignore how happy it made him the idea that Taehyung maybe prioritized him the way Namjoon cherished him.
“Huh,” Yoongi paused at the doorway of Taehyung and Jimin’s apartment which was absolutely packed. “Did they invite the whole campus or something?”
“Well,” said Namjoon wondering as to where to put his winter coat. “They are pretty social creatures.”
It turned out Namjoon need not have worried about feeling awkward. Within 15 minutes, he found Hoseak with whom he had taken several classes with. Yoongi himself fell into conversation with Taehyung’s friends, Seokjin and Jungkook, both of whom Namjoon dimly recognized from Taehyung’s Instagram.
However Taehyung was nowhere to be found. It was well into an hour when Namjoon found Jimin who told him that he had sent Taehyung to get ice since they were running short.
“He texted me that the first two convenience stores he had gone to had run out,” Jimin shouted over the loud music. “He found some on his third try though. He should be on his way back.”
“Alright,” Namjoon nodded. The apartment was too suffocating as it was. He grabbed his coat from the pile on the floor. He would just wait for Taehyung outside and help him carry the stuff in.
Once he was outside he could finally breathe. It had been fun catching up with Hoseak and they had exchanged numbers with promises to meet up for lunch next week, but he had come for Taehyung. They had just met two days ago but Namjoon had missed him since then.
When he caught sight of his blue hair a few minutes later, his smile broke out. He took several steps intent on meeting Taehyung halfway, but stopped when he realized that Taehyung wasn’t alone, someone was already helping him with his bags and was walking altogether too close to him. From the distance, Namjoon couldn’t make out his face but he was lanky with his hair flopping over his hair like some wannabe idol.
The wannabe idol then put his hand on Taehyung as if to stop him from walking ahead. Namjoon watched as Taehyung turned and that stupid fucking wannabe idol closed the space between them, stood on his tiptoes and kissed Taehyung.
Pain exploded in Namjoon’s chest, hooking into his muscles and tendons and just dragged. With a pained gasp he turned away.
Yoongi had been standing behind him.
“I thought you were leaving,” he murmured. “So I followed you.” His eyes flickered to the scene behind Namjoon.
Namjoon didn’t dare to look back. “Lets get out of here.”
Yoongi looked back at Namjoon. “The back entrance?”
Namjoon moved back inside, not even waiting to see if Yoongi was following. In the alley way leading from the back entrance, he stopped short.
Yoongi put his hand on his arm. “Its okay. Its okay to feel like this.”
“No, it not,” Namjoon shrugged his hand off. “He’s my friend. That’s all. He can kiss whomever he likes.”
“I don’t think,” Yoongi paused, “that you ever saw him as a friend.”
Namjoon looked at him. “Of course he’s my friend. What else would he be?”
“Well,” said Yoongi slowly, “do you like him?”
“Of course I like him.”
“No, I mean,” Yoongi shrugged his shoulders with impatience. “Do you like like him?”
“No,” Namjoon said after a pause. He had crushes on girls elementary school, middle school, high school, and in university. Taehyung was more of an obsession than a day dream. He was always at the back of his mind, living and breathing inside of it.
“What does it feel like when you are with him?”
“It feels … good. I can say anything, be my most fucked up self and he’ll just accept it.”
“He was kissing Mark right now when you saw him. Did you feel good then?”
That’s was the wannabe idol’s name? What a fucking idiotic name to have, Namjoon gritted his teeth. “Fuck it.”
He turned around to walk away but Yoongi caught hold of his arm in a death grip. “Do you possibly feel more?” he pursued “Do you … love him?”
That stopped Namjoon short. “No, I …” he breathed, “don’t think so.” He loved his parents no matter the state of relationship it was. He loved Yoongi in a way, for being there always. “I just feel as if I’m locked in his orbit. It doesn’t feel like love. It feels …” Namjoon trailed off, “… expansive. Outside of me but building from me at the same time. Like I could exist solely for him and not have any regrets.”
He shuddered. “Its scary.”
“Namjoon,” Yoongi sighed before moving to wrap his arms around him, “that’s love.”
Namjoon stayed quiet for a long time before laying his head down on Yoongi’s shoulder.
---------
Time afterwards acquired a strange quality or perhaps Namjoon had only noticed it now. Hours with Taehyung sped through like a like mere minutes while time without him was a chore. Something to bear almost.
His fingers itched, his whole self almost trembled. All he wanted to do was write about Taehyung, one feeling after another although he suspected that he could write about Taehyung for the next ten years and still not be anywhere close to describing just what Namjoon felt for him.
It was strange the way his selfishness came rushing back to him. That intense desire that he had felt as teenager just about rapping about anything and everything, willing to take any risk that came his way for the off chance that he’ll make it. He wanted it and he would claw his way to it if he had too.
With Taehyung it hadn’t been any different.
The new semester had started. He barely saw Taehyung now days with their completely different schedules. There was also now a Mark in the picture. Taehyung hadn’t mentioned him and Namjoon almost appreciated the gesture. He did not ever want to hear about this Mark.
Taehyung did manage to carve out for some time for him though. And here they were sitting on a bench in a park. The sun was setting in and they were drinking coffee and listening to music from Namjoon’s ipod. Namjoon felt utterly in peace with the world.
And then Taehyung’s cellphone buzzed with an incoming text.
From the corner of his eye, Namjoon can see it was from Mark and really did not appreciate the smile that appears on Taehyung’s face as he sends back a text of his own.
“So,” said Namjoon trying to keep his tone nonchalant. “Mark.”
Taehyung smiled, still not looking up from his cellphone. “He’s a friend.”
Right. Friend. “I saw you both at the party,” Namjoon pauses. “Outside when you both were coming back.”
Beside him, he feels Taehyung stiffen at the implication. “Oh,” he choked out. “We are just friends though. It was just in the moment sort of a thing. We dated for a while in freshmen year and it had been a while since we had seen each other. ”
Namjoon didn’t say anything.
“We made plans to study together next week, hyung,” Taehyung looked at him hesitatingly. “Mark’s pretty smart and is on the dean’s honour list and with this new professor I’ll need all the help I can get.”
“I,” said Namjoon before he could stop himself. “am also on the dean’s honour list.” Did Mark also happen to have an IQ of 140?
“Hyung?” Taehyung sounded utterly bewildered.
It had been a mistake looking at Taehyung just then. Darkness was setting in, he looked unearthly with his blue hair and mouth slack and eyes glimmering. Before he even felt it himself, Namjoon was moving and kissing Taehyung at the side of his mouth.
It was only for a second, but Namjoon’s heart was pounding, his blood rushing and he was sweating despite the cold. He forced himself to breathe and waited for Taehyung to say something. When he didn’t, Namjoon forced himself to look up at Taehyung.
Blank Tae.
Namjoon grabbed his bag and pushed himself away. “I’m sorry,” he choked out before turning and practically running away. He had to get away. He just had to.
He didn’t get far. He had only taken a few steps when Taehyung grabbed hold of his arm and turned him around, placing his other hand on Namjoon’s other arm.
“Hyung,” Taehyung whispered.
Namjoon didn’t say anything. He could barely force himself to look at Taehyung.
“Do you,” Taehyung spoke so carefully, “like me?”
“Do you?” Namjoon whispered back.
Taehyung made a pained sound. “Yeah. A lot. Too much. I thought you weren't interested.”
Namjoon’s knees gave away and he found himself on his knees on the cold ground. “Fuck,” he sobbed, words being torn from him. “Fuck. I am. I like you. Its just before I couldn't get it you know? There has never been anyone like you.”
Taheyung squatted down on the ground, cupping Namjoon’s face. “Hyung,” he said almost reverently. “ Namjoonie hyung.”
And then they were kissing. Namjoon clutched at Taehyung’s jacket trying to bring him closer. They didn’t need to talk. There were no ifs or buts. Its just them in the park under the moonlight. There are no words for the lightness Namjoon feels. He knows at an old age this is what he will remember, a memory he will turn to. Taehyung in his arms and he in Taehyung’s.
This is it for him. Taehyung’s touch, his kisses, his love. There is a clarity, a softness he can see in himself. The Namjoon that he was before Taehyung, he will never be him again. It is as if Taehyung has become part of him, that wherever he goes, he carries a part of Taehyung with him. Namjoon knows just knows this love is something he will hold for the rest of his life.
It doesn’t really terrify him. What should terrify him is this certainty. That he would do anything for Taehyung. The idea of looking at his mother and telling her about Taehyung doesn’t terrify him. Namjoon knows from every molecule of his being, from his every sense of self, for Taehyung he could do it. Namjoon is almost never certain but about this he absolutely is. This is it for him. Taehyung is it.