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time continues to pass, as it is wont to do, though if you ask namjoon it’s more than slightly sus that the means of existence itself haven’t been thrown off course by jungkook coming into his orbit.
everything is different, which makes it kind of wild to him to find that everything is in fact, still very much the same.
namjoon makes a small ocean of coffee, mops some floors, writes a lot of poorly veiledly euphemistic lyrics and spends a seasonally appropriate amount of time petting the thunder cats when he finds them slumped over tables studying or standing stock still staring at walls because they’ve just finished an exam and promptly forgot how to function.
“it’s going to be fine,” he tells hyunjin, fixing his backwards snapback where it’s at an angle terrifyingly reminiscent of early 2000’s rap culture, “you did so well when seokjin quizzed you yesterday and that was while jeongin was pelting you with marshmallows, so imagine how great you did under exam conditions!”
“but what if i didn’t get an ‘a’, hyung? bang chan will be disappointed in me.” hyunjin isn’t exactly quiet, because none of the stray kids crew are, but he tends to be pretty compact with his emotional expression. namjoon thinks of him as being emotionally implosive, where the rest of them are emotionally explosive, often disastrously so. namjoon knows that all of them respect and revere chan, not because he’s the oldest amongst them but rather because he’s the most accomplished and self-disciplined, almost to the point of masochism if namjoon or yoongi don’t catch him in time to pull him back from the edge.
“chan is going to be proud of you no matter what,” namjoon tells hyunjin, really only reinforcing something that he knows hyunjin already knows. sometimes having someone else tell you what you already know to be true is just what you need to let yourself really believe it, though. that’s been namjoon’s experience, at least. “what can i do to cheer you up in the meantime? i just got some really great new gel pens, they’re one millimeter and they write like a dream, would you like one?”
once hyunjin is smiling again - grinning actually, as he sneakily slaps a very nicely stylized ‘loser’ post-it on changbin’s back - namjoon takes stock of the store.
it’s deep into the afternoon, so as usual GUSH is as close to quiet as it ever gets. yoongi is in the zone - smoothly doling out drinks even as he teaches seungmin and jisung the difference between ristretto and espresso extraction - and it looks like jimin is just about finishing up his meeting with the woman who came to pitch a new tea range to them. namjoon thinks her name is hani and if the way jimin is plaiting her hair into french braids laced with the hot pink extension bundles he apparently just has to hand is anything to go on, namjoon also thinks they probably sell speciality tea now.
“hey hobi, care to join me on a field trip?”
namjoon only regrets this offer for about four seconds when hoseok lifts his head with what can only be described as a deeply malevolent expression on his face.
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
competition isn’t exactly what fuels namjoon’s motivation. he wouldn’t call it inspiration, either, really, but it’s certainly -
“not fucking spite, hobi, jesus.”
checking out what other coffee shops in the area are doing is just namjoon’s way of staying in touch with what’s happening in the industry locally as well as globally. if he can fly the whole team out to the states, to the uk, to eastern europe three or four times a year for coffee expos, he can absolutely drag his ass two streets over to check out the closest thing GUSH has to a competitor.
it’s simply research. professional respect.
not espionage, no matter how many times hoseok swears otherwise and tries to make an argument for straight up sabotage.
namjoon grabs drinks with suho, the current manager of ‘exopress’ at least once a month and their cold brew barista yixing runs a dance class that like 65% of both store’s staff members attend. hoseok has on several occasions stepped in to lead the class for yixing, which is why namjoon finds his mean little competitive streak unsurprising but misdirected in this case.
it probably says a lot about the relationship between both teams that when hoseok starts handing out GUSH flyers as soon as they get inside ‘exopress’, all that happens is that xiumin - who is at the helm, working the register - implores the customer he’s serving to try GUSH’s new unicorn frappe and tell jimin that he sent them.
namjoon didn’t even know they had fliers. and he definitely did not know that said flyers were neon. is that a meme of what is called “baby yoda” but is neither a baby nor yoda? namjoon decides he’s better off not looking into this matter any further.
“hey jongdae,” he waves when they reach the part of the line that winds by the sandwich counter.
‘exopress’ serves a full menu, which is why their stores aren’t actually strictly in competition with one another at all and also why ‘exopress’ has a full time staff that’s like twice the size of namjoon’s, plus an ever expanding part time crew that seems to consist solely of people so good looking that namjoon honestly wonders sometimes about the viability of humanoid AI.
“hey joon,” jongdae grins at him and bares his teeth at hoseok, to which hoseok only laughs delightedly in return. “how are things? don’t tell me someone finally convinced you to take a day off?”
namjoon rolls his eyes. it’s not like he’s as bad as seokjin. he might not take full days off, but he knows how to work a healthy amount, taking time away from the store for these outings, for example, or to sit in the back holding hands with the prettiest boy he’s ever seen in his life. namjoon absolutely lives a balanced life.
“ha!” hoseok says and namjoon wonders, not for the first time today, if hoseok is a legilimens.
“people can’t hear what you think, namjoon, that’s not a thing,” sehun says, stepping up to the counter to reach past jongdae and grab a handful of jalapenos.
namjoon squints at him.
“........... anyway,” hobi seques, social fluidity on point as always, “what’s new with you weirdos?”
jongdae turns away to slide an expertly folded wrap into the oven behind him and taemin (who doesn’t even work at ‘exopress’ but has been filling in here while their ‘cold brew baby’ kiosk is getting renovated) steps into his spot and responds.
“lots of changes around these parts,” taemin says and namjoon probably isn’t imagining the dry tone of voice he thinks he detects.
‘exopress’ is the flagship store for SM Coffee Co., who are stunningly successful in most of their endeavours but don’t exactly have a great reputation within the industry for listening to clientele concerns, promoting all of their locations in an equal manner or treating their staff like … well, human beings.
namjoon shudders whenever he accidentally thinks about what it might be like to work for anything other than a totally independent organization.
“still no sign of a working ice machine for this place, but management’s priority right now is hiring an entire second team for the new store they’re opening across town. like they’re staffing for the night shift specifically, when they don’t even know who is going to run the place during the day,” taemin lifts a bare and frankly stunning shoulder in the direction of where a group interview seems to be taking place on the other side of the store.
at least, namjoon hopes it’s an interview. it kind of looks a bit more like the prelude to some kind of ‘hunger games’ type situation, what with how the table is set up with two lines of three people facing one another and bookended by two suit clad management guys that namjoon doesn’t recognize.
“i don’t like anyone’s chances against those guys by the window,” is hoseok’s input and when namjoon pays a little more attention, he thinks he picks up on the guy with the really toothy smile asking if he can give his answer in the form of rap.
taemin only shrugs.
“kun is going to volunteer to manage the late shift, i think, but he’s holding out until management agree to his terms.”
hoseok tilts his head in question. namjoon is still stuck on the guy rapping. is that … is he rapping in german now?
kun himself pops into view briefly, leaning out from the break room in back.
“give me yukhei and sicheng or give me death,” he declares solemnly, with a significant look thrown in taemin’s direction.
“i’ll do what i can, man, but i’ve threatened to quit so many times now that it’s kind of losing it’s power,” taemin tells him.
namjoon likes coming to ‘exopress’, but he really likes that he doesn’t have to come here every day.
which is why once they’ve collected their drinks, which hoseok astutely ordered to go, namjoon makes to turn on his heel and leave for pastures greener and less corporately stifling. he’s very sincere in his goodbyes to every employee he encounters as they go, partially because he’s incredibly fond of them, partially because it truly hurts his heart to see what they go through sometimes, but mostly because he feels guilty for how he has to try so hard not to say “ight i’ma head out,” out loud, because - mood, honestly.
capitalism is an inescapable evil that namjoon barely manages to tolerate, most days, but corporate mismanagement of real human lives makes him need to walk around out in the rain for two hours, minimum. jimin says that namjoon’s going to be the first human being to die from ‘existential angst’, and namjoon thinks it’s sweet that jimin has gotten as far as he has into adulthood without having been robbed of that very mistaken belief.
and honestly, either things aren’t as bad as they seem at ‘exopress’, or else the stockholm syndrome has fully taken hold, because only haechan asks them to take him with them as they’re leaving today. namjoon has seen haechan make about as many grown men cry as he has seokjin, albeit for very different reasons, so he’s not feeling too conflicted about the hopes, dreams and wellbeing of his industry colleagues as he makes to leave. they know where he is when they need to vent and he knows he’ll see at least half of the staff on shift today when they inevitably come to GUSH for lunch later, as has become routine.
today, hoseok isn’t quick enough to push namjoon through the door before he can stop and hold it open for incoming traffic, so they get stuck standing there for a good eight minutes or so, namjoon grinning and hoseok threatening to throw his hot coffee over him, as a stream of people pass in through the door namjoon holds open for them.
namjoon thinks he spots an eventual end to the deluge in the not too far off distance, but the snake of foot traffic actually peters off into what turns out to be his absolute worst nightmare, instead.
it’s jungkook. here, in the flesh. and in all other ways and times and means that namjoon has encountered him, he’s been ethereal; a dream - the good kind. the kind that makes you screw your eyes shut real hard and try your absolute damndest to reinvade your own subconscious and then never leave.
but looking at jungkook right now, namjoon kind of wants to leave the planet, maybe even the entire solar system.
because jungkook isn’t alone.
and it’s not like namjoon didn’t think jungkook had friends, he’s pretty sure jungkook had even mentioned the fact that he does, but namjoon’s entire brain is taken up with the process of visualizing just jungkook whether he’s physically present or not, so it’s safe to say that namjoon has never had the spare neurons to conjure up any theories on what jungkook’s hypothetical friends might look like.
honestly, namjoon’s not even sure he has the right kind of neurons to bring to life what his eyes are trying to compute to a brain that’s currently sobbing very loudly. namjoon commiserates. he might join his brain in solidarity.
the …. entity that’s currently trying to fuse itself to jungkook’s body even as he’s struggling to walk up to the end of the line is tall, tan and dressed in what looks like a burberry pajama set. and not knockoff, either. it is laughing as it wraps it’s horrible, beautiful arms around jungkook’s neck and tries to wrap its endless, terrible legs around jungkook’s waist. this latter attempt is thwarted by jungkook, but the defeat only makes the monstrous thing laugh, this deep, rumbling thing that pours out of a hideously gorgeous mouth like a thunderstorm that namjoon would stand outside in the midst of with an umbrella made out of car antennas in each hand.
it’s. namjoon supposes he can stretch to calling it a ‘man’, but even as he assigns this frightful vision the label temporarily in his mind, he throws up a prayer of apology to whatever god or gods has decided to turn his life inside fucking out because jungkook’s companion is no more human than jungkook himself is.
“am i dying, hobi? is that what’s happening here? is the netherworld emissary playing some kind of especially sick long game with me whereby i get everything i ever wanted, just to watch it get taken away and then die? is that what my life’s efforts have earned me? is this what i deserve?”
hoseok, to his credit, doesn’t even look at namjoon, so committed is he to staring at the spectacle that currently assaults them, his head tilting dramatically from one side to the other, like a dog trying to make sense of something it’s hearing by looking at the source from different angles.
jungkook and his partner in this potentially, seemingly imminently fatal vision don’t notice namjoon and hoseok as they wrestle their way past them, don’t look back at them after either.
namjoon is just about to count this amongst his few and seldom blessings and walk right out the door, maybe through it, until hoseok closes an iron tight grip around his wrist and hisses “not on my fucking watch, not today. i’m tired of these snakes on this motherfucking plane,” and starts hauling namjoon across the store floor to where all his hopes and dreams have just died.
“jungkook,” hoseok says icily and namjoon doesn’t know if he wants to punch his best friend in his mouth for being mean to the love of his life or hide behind hoseok’s shoulders and just point at the bad man who hurt him.
“hyungs!” jungkook is still wrestling his heavenly, dastardly companion off of his person as he turns to look at them, grin blazing.
namjoon whimpers.
“yes, it is us, your hyungs,” hoseok isn’t looking at jungkook anymore, “and who is … this, exactly?”
the angelic incubus straightens up, only to dip low into a sweeping bow.
“hello! my name is taehyung!” he’s smiling so wide that his eyes almost disappear completely and namjoon is briefly very thankful that he met the real and true love of his life before he met this taehyung, because he looks a lot like someone namjoon would risk it all for.
“taehyung is my best friend, i warned you about him, right?” jungkook turns to look directly at namjoon for the first time during this exchange and namjoon wonders, just for like a fraction of a second, if maybe jungkook might consider letting him watch jungkook and taehyung fuck as a parting gift, a ‘sorry i ate your heart and then shit it out onto your favourite rug’ consolation prize.
looking between them, namjoon figures that plan would probably work for the grim reaper that’s on his ass, too, since he’d die of sexual sadness on the spot.
“do you think having a boner might stave off a heart attack, because it would redirect blood flow?” namjoon says. out loud. where people can hear him. where jungkook can hear him.
“um,” jungkook says.
“uhhhh,” is hoseok’s contribution.
taehyung, of all people, is the one to actually address namjoon’s question.
“that’s a fucking brilliant question. if i ever die, it definitely won’t be because i didn’t ward off a coronary by jerking myself back to full health. science should thank you for your contributions. you could save millions of lives with this wonderful discovery, namjoon-ssi.”
“IF?” hoseok asks.
“how do you know who i am?” is namjoon’s more pressing concern, because he has the right priorities and currently those amount to finding out whether jungkook has told his beautiful boyfriend about him and also finding out what jungkook has told his beautiful boyfriend about him.
“your thighs. they’re exactly like the draw-” taehyung’s delighted smile is suddenly covered by jungkook’s hand, and.
“oh wow, you. you. are those real?” namjoon asks, because there’s letters tattooed across jungkook’s knuckles and that definitely had not been the case the last time namjoon saw that hand and held it all too briefly in his own. the letters spell out ‘tear’ in stark black letters that namjoon thinks would look great against his currently silvery blond hair. like, say if jungkook were to fist his hand in namjoon’s hair and drag his head back and -
“and that’s what you choose to focus on, in all of - this?” hoseok interrupts namjoon’s thought process to wave a hand in the general direction of jungkook and taehyung.
jungkook looks kind of offended but taehyung is still grinning, even after he licked jungkook’s hand and jungkook punched him in the chest for it.
“um, yeah, they’re new,” jungkook says and namjoon hates that enough time has passed since they last saw one another that jungkook had time to go and get new tattoos that are already well into the healing process. time is a cruel wench who lives to play with namjoon’s emotions.
“and what about your relationship, jungkook? is that new too or do you just struggle with monogamy?” hoseok can also be a cruel wench, when he wants to be.
jungkook stares blankly at hoseok until taehyung starts to laugh beside him, winding up into what is almost a guffaw before he bites down on his top lip to contain it.
“you think? we? like … me and jungkook?” taehyung is still giggling as he says it and namjoon can maybe forgive this person for being so good looking in the proximity of his future husband, because jungkook starts laughing then, too.
“ew, fuck no. jungkook is like my child. my great big buff baby. that’s foul, man. i’d never date this unnatural disaster, he lives like he just escaped some serial killer’s basement and has never known civilized society. haven’t you seen him eat yet?”
at this, jungkook gives taehyung what looks to be a truly brutal nipple cripple. namjoon is only a little jealous. hoseok looks strangely appeased.
“we have fed him on one occasion or two, though it was suggested that he’s feral,” hoseok allows, looking at taehyung newly consideringly.
“what's the longest you've lined up outside isaac toast for and did you get the shrimp toast or the chili shrimp toast?” hoseok is asking taehyung now, like they're suddenly conducting a very strange and strangely intense job interview for some reason, but namjoon isn’t really paying attention because he’s stepping across hoseok to lead jungkook a little ways away from both of them, instead.
“are you okay? do you want me to talk to them about how they talk about you?” namjoon hopes his unspoken but ever-standing offer to kill anyone who so much as midly inconveniences jungkook reads clearly.
but jungkook only laughs.
“they’re just kidding, hyung. also they didn’t really say anything that wasn’t at least a little true. i’m not the most sophisticated person. taehyung had to show me how to use a washing machine when we got housed together in the freshman dorms.”
“if you don’t like washing your clothes i can just buy you new ones,” namjoon says and he doesn’t understand why jungkook keeps laughing at the very serious things he’s saying.
“i missed you, hyung. taehyung and i were actually gonna head over to GUSH after here. i promised him i’d let him meet you - uh, you guys. we were just stopping off here first because he wanted to grab something to eat and flirt with the really mean barista.”
“oh you guys know kyungsoo?” namjoon is kind of surprised by that, because -
“hell no. do you think anyone knows that guy? besides his previous victims, i mean.” jungkook actually glances around as he says it, like kyungsoo might be on the prowl.
and namjoon has to laugh at that.
“i totally get why you’d think that, but he’s actually really sweet. he’s just shortsighted, so it looks like he’s constantly glaring when he’s just trying to see. he’s harmless, i promise.”
jungkook’s shoulders lower a little. they kind of slump, actually.
“well there goes my only hope at marrying taehyung off, then. his type is ‘probably murderous, definitely model material’.”
“huh,” namjoon says, thinking something that’s probably going to end in tears. or bloodshed, if he’s right and taehyung gets lucky. “i might be able to help you out there, but let’s put a pin in that for right now. how have you been? what have you been doing? other than the new tattoos, i mean. those are beautiful, by the way.”
jungkook blushes a little and namjoon wants to suck on the apples of his cheeks.
“i’ve been good. busy with classes and keeping taehyung out of prison, like usual. what about you, what have you been up to, hyung?”
namjoon is saved from having to say ‘thinking about you, missing you and jerking off thinking about you, in that exact order, ad infinitum’ by hoseok and taehyung wandering back over to interrupt.
“hello again single ladies, both of my friends who are both also single, what a coincidence, isn’t that strange, what are the odds?” hoseok says and namjoon thinks it might’ve been less awkward if he’d just admitted to jungkook that he is the entirety of namjoon’s spank bank, now, instead.
“i have acquired a burrito and a new friend, shall we depart for your place of work now, sirs?” taehyung is staring at namjoon without blinking and hoseok seems to be doing the same to jungkook and they have linked arms and possibly also mind-melded. namjoon glances down at his still-waiting-to-be-consumed coffee and wonders, not for the first time, if there’s something in the water here.
“drink your coffee and go, joon. you’re so loud i’m getting a headache,” sehun mutters as he brushes by to start bussing tables.
“k, bye,” namjoon says, honestly not caring about a single thing that might or might not be happening about ‘exopress’ because taehyung and hoseok are walking out, still arm in arm and jungkook is moving after them and holding the door open for namjoon.
namjoon would follow him off a bridge.
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
yoongi looks up when they walk in and immediately calls jungkook over to hear a new song he’s been talking about sampling. namjoon is content enough to let jungkook walk away from him because he’s fairly invested in getting jungkook to sing on some tracks for them and yoongi is more convincing than he is, particularly with people he can’t like think, stand or be straight around.
namjoon follows hoseok and taehyung to the table they head to and catches the tail end of what taehyung is conspiratorially whispering.
“not since jaehyun and he was such a dick, oh my god, i don’t know why jungkook ever - oh. greetings again, namjoon-ssi. i didn’t see you there. here. in this place. which you own and also work at.”
“you can call me hyung,” namjoon says, because it kind of seems like jungkook and taehyung are a package deal and he’s never letting jungkook get away from him. in a loving way, though. it’s chill. “what are you guys talking about?”
“sailing,” hoseok says, while taehyung blurts “light bulbs.”
“sure,” namjoon shrugs, he can get information out of hoseok easier later, when he’s alone and without potential protection from namjoon’s sharp elbows and cutting psychoanalytic observations.
“who the fuck are you?” jimin demands, coming out from behind the counter to stand next to the table and stare down at taehyung, but he somehow manages to say it with awe clear in his voice. his face looks like a stream of v-app hearts are about to float up out of it any second now.
“i’m taehyung. where did you buy that shirt?” jimin is wearing a cropped tee that says ‘pretty bitch’ with the ‘r’ crossed out, enclosed inside a pink rhinestone heart.
“i made it,” jimin tells him, “do you like it?”
“yes. also, i think i love you,” taehyung says and literally no one bats an eyelid at this.
“can i touch your hair?” is the last thing namjoon hears jimin say before he’s getting up, getting way from what’s about to become the kind of display he can’t bear to witness from up close, if any of his previous personal experiences with park jimin are any indication.
yoongi and jungkook are on either side of the pick up counter, leaning over it to share a set of earbuds, so thetis is entirely free real estate that namjoon quickly claims to make jungkook coffee. when he finishes up, he comes out from behind the counter, narrowly side-stepping jimin and hoseok who are physically fighting one another to get to the coffee machine and make taehyung a drink.
“here, your usual,” namjoon says, picking up the freshly tattooed hand that jungkook has resting on the countertop and moulding jungkook’s fingers around the cup with his own. he probably lingers like that for a beat or twelve too long, judging by how yoongi narrows his eyes and snaps his teeth at him, but jungkook only smiles up at namjoon and says “thanks” around a sip of coffee. he hums a little as he swallows, a soft murmur of satisfaction that makes namjoon straight up shiver on the spot. if he ever gets to kiss this boy, he thinks his very skeleton might wriggle out of him in delight.
“yeah, so,” after a minute or two, yoongi is carefully, deliberately winding his earbuds back into a perfect loop and tucking them back into their case, “i can send you what we have so far if you want and you can decide if you want to hop on it? just give namjoon your number.” yoongi turns back around and sets about bodily removing his friends and coworkers from his coffee machine. he might look deceptively un-athletic, but unlike namjoon, yoongi really is motivated by spite. and only spite.
the fact that jungkook doesn’t even question why he’s giving his number to namjoon instead of to yoongi, who actually asked for it, probably says something but namjoon isn’t sure what it says or who it says it about or really anything about anything that isn’t jungkook turning to face him and giving him grabby hands until namjoon reaches for his phone. luckily his phone is the only thing namjoon currently has in his pockets, because he was set on turning them out entirely for jungkook.
“there, i text myself so i have your number too,” jungkook says, after he has typed in his digits with such speed and precision that namjoon actually tries to think of a way to compliment him on his finger work without making it sound like what namjoon fervently wishes for instead of what he really means. “i hope that’s okay?”
“yes,” namjoon says, so definitively that the word is almost a physical thing.
“cool,” jungkook says, lifting his cup up to his smiling mouth again and namjoon is jealous of a plastic cup lid now, this is definitely cool.
“we need to get you a reusable cup,” he settles on saying, because the environment is absolutely as important as the marriage proposal that has lived just behind namjoon’s teeth for about two weeks now. hopefully it takes up space that might otherwise have been occupied by dumb things he could have said in front of jungkook, instead.
“do we?” jungkook is looking up at namjoon with something unreadable in his eyes. namjoon really hopes it isn’t an absolute disregard for their home planet, because namjoon isn’t wealthy enough to secure their voyage to another one, yet. he needs to make more money. he makes a mental note to ask seokjin to remind him to make more money.
“'GUK-AH YOU’RE GOING TO BE LATE FOR YOUR DANCE CLASS.”
taehyung is yelling across the store, startling several of the thunder cats. namjoon thinks he hears a plate smash somewhere, but he can’t be concerned about that when his brain is suddenly under attack from not only the term ‘'guk-ah’, but also the image of jungkook at a dance class.
“you dance?” he manages to ask faintly, as jungkook is reaching to pick up the backpack he’d dropped by his feet. namjoon’s voice isn’t the only thing that’s faint, what with how jungkook twists at the waist and bends so far that his shirt rides up his side a little. namjoon catches a glimpse of one smooth, distinct v-line and decides he’d catch a case if it meant he got to put his hands on it.
“yeah, i signed up for this class just down the street, it’s -”
“wait, yixing’s class? at ‘the honey pot’?” jimin is looking at jungkook like he’s never seen him before and not only have they met in person several times, he’s also helped namjoon facebook-stalk jungkook extensively.
“yeah, you know him? tonight is just an introductory session, he said he needs to see people dance before he can decide what level classes to sign them up to. i’ve taken dance for a couple years, but i’m nervous. what’s he like?” jungkook talks about these brand new and totally life-changing matters like they’re purely run of the mill.
‘a couple of years’? namjoon is all of a sudden almost entirely certain that he’s finally going to discover his ability to change his matter form to liquid. and then he’s going to slither along after jungkook and become a puddle of want at his first dance class with zhang fucking yixing, namjoon’s former friend and newly sworn enemy because namjoon has seen what yixing enables otherwise tolerable human beings to do with their bodies. plus jungkook could two step in front of him and namjoon would probably cry and definitely try to drop to his knees for him on the spot.
“interesting,” is all jimin says, “maybe i’ll see you in some classes once yixing sorts you.”
jungkook’s laugh is new, it’s nervous.
“you make it sound like a hogwarts sorting, hyung.”
“oh it’s nothing like that,” jimin grins sharply and how did namjoon never notice before how many teeth he had, because that’s like - a lot, “i hope you’re staying to help carry him home, tae.”
somewhere in his peripheral vision taehyung is standing to attention and saluting. namjoon hopes for his own selfish sake that taehyung has already been exposed to jungkook sweaty and exhausted in many small but only gradually increasing increments so that he doesn’t get assaulted by the image and abandon his faculties. if he has any, that is. namjoon thinks he likes taehyung but he wouldn’t trust his own mother around jungkook.
“thanks for the coffee. bye hyungs,” jungkook waves over his shoulder as he lets taehyung pull him out of the store, because it seems like the two of them don’t ever just walk places normally.
namjoon waves back, forcing himself to smile until they’re out of sight.
“don’t come looking for me, i need to process,” he says then, carefully avoiding any and all eye contact as he walks through the store and out the back to where the fire escape will lead him to the roof.
“if you throw yourself off the building i’ll make the thunder cats clean up the mess,” yoongi warns and several people gasp, but namjoon doesn’t bother replying because he knows yoongi would never. he’d immediately call a cuddle pile to attention and make sure every single one of those kids got snuggled to sleep. yoongi’s very carefully curated spiky exterior might fool some people, but he’ll never fool namjoon. not after he found yoongi’s kumamon collection like a month after they’d moved in together.
“oh don’t worry, he’s just going to go pine under the stars like the tragic sap he is,” hoseok says without looking up from where he’s painting seungmin’s fingernails at the break table.
as usual, namjoon doesn’t respond to hoseok either, but in his case because he’s right, damn him. and he knows it, too, judging by the smug and deeply dimpled grin he shines in namjoon’s direction. damn him to hell.
-
it’s cool and quiet on the roof.
namjoon sits in the very center of their still-under-construction rooftop not-quite-garden and then decides to lie down fully, his back pressed flat to concrete that’s cool against his skin even through the material of his tshirt. he folds his hands behind his head and lifts his eyes to the sky above and looks.
he looks up into a sea of stars whose light he’s seeing even after they’re long, long gone and thinks about jungkook.
namjoon thinks about how even when jungkook isn’t there, the shape and the possibility of him is what leads namjoon through his days. how even when it’s been days and namjoon is starting to look for glimpses of him in crowds, eyes scanning the stream of people that passes by the store’s windows like he could catch sight of someone who brushed against jungkook or stood facing him at a stoplight and would recognize the nearness of him at that alone; know that jungkook was almost here, was close somehow.
he thinks about how absolutely nothing in his life has actually changed, but now his days are slow rolls of tides that make him feel like he’s on a wave that’s about to crest, rather than drag him under. he thinks about how when jungkook walks in, it feels like time stops, only to start up again and ten times faster when he goes. jungkook’s presence paces him and he doesn’t know why or what he’s supposed to do about it.
namjoon knows what he wants to do about it.
he wants to take his phone out of his pocket and call the last number stored in it and go down into the streets until he finds the voice on the other end of the line. he wants to look at jungkook and have jungkook look back and he wants to not be afraid, in that moment. he wants to tell jungkook that he’s different now, because of him and he doesn’t know how but he does know why and he wants jungkook to want to step into him and tell him he’d like to stay there. he wants to tell jungkook that he makes namjoon feel bigger and smaller at the same time, better in ways that he wants to explore exponentially, because he harbours deep suspicions about jungkook and his innate ability to fuck someone up irrevocably.
namjoon wants to be the person that jungkook chooses to fuck up forever.
and he could say all of this to jungkook. he knows enough words to cobble it together in some semblance of the true meaning he’s aiming for, he’s pretty sure. but that’s the thing. namjoon is pretty sure. he’s mostly confident. he’s fairly self-secure. the way he feels about jungkook might be brand new, but it doesn’t shake the foundation of who namjoon has built himself up to be, through years of painful self-growth spurts and the knitting together of a web of friendships that he knows will hold him up for life.
finding jungkook doesn’t make namjoon feel like he’s lost any of that.
but the truly terrifying thing about it is that namjoon can see instantly, all too starkly, where jungkook could fit into it. all the places where the added presence of jungkook would be a candle held up in a dark, forgotten corner that namjoon is too scared to explore alone. he can see now and never unsee where the thread of jungkook, bright and glittering like shining, spun gold could pull everything else closer together, tighter and more secure than before.
namjoon is fine without jungkook. he loves his life, he loves his friends, he loves his job. he works hard but he’s lucky enough to have arrived at a time and place where he gets to focus almost entirely on who and what he loves and if that doesn’t make him blessed, he doesn’t know what would.
but the great and terrible thing about the premise of jungkook is that he leaves namjoon with this unshakeable suspicion that together, they could be brilliant.
and namjoon knows that he’s good, because no one spends so much as a single afternoon in the presence of his friend group without departing with a fierce little seed of self love, but for the first time in a long time, namjoon doubts whether he’s good enough.
and that’s honestly not even a slight upon himself, because namjoon feels that way about everyone he’s ever met, when it comes to jungkook. he can’t even imagine - with the tomes of descriptive language he has stored up in several languages, over many, many years - what someone who could be deemed good enough for jungkook could even look like.
he only doubts that it’s anything like him and who he is.
and so when namjoon thinks about it like this; alone and brutally honest, he knows he’s not afraid to tell jungkook how he feels, because he knows he’ll never have to.
he’ll never get the chance or for one second have a reason to, because jungkook just is not an option for him.
no, what namjoon is truly afraid of is this - going back, now that he knows. returning to a life he lived in happily, comfortably, until he came to see exactly what it was missing. because that life fit him perfectly, before, like a worn sweatshirt washed a hundred times and stretched out and slept in until the very threads of the fabric came to know and hug the shape of him inside it. now that jungkook has shown up, the shoulders pinch a little too tight. now that jungkook is here, the cuffs of the sleeves have lost so much elasticity that they no longer stay up when namjoon needs to push them to his elbows. with jungkook there to open his eyes, what looked to namjoon like a soft and lovely pastel palette before has become what was clearly a shade meant to be brighter, bled out of colour he’ll now never get to see as it was supposed to be.
eventually, namjoon ambles back down the stairs to the store floor, feeling a lot like he’s been bled of something, himself.
he steps over felix, who seems to be practising his chalk marker work on the floor for some reason and heads straight for the only place that might actually make him feel sort of human again.
“hey kids, how are we bending the ivory tower of academia to our will this week?”
soobin, yeonjun, taehyun and heuningkai all lift their heads like synchronised meerkats, turning from their textbooks to look at him like he is water and they’d been dying of thirst. beomgyu keeps right on scribbling away at what seems, from what namjoon can gather, looking at it upside down, to be a love calculation.
“namjoon hyung, my teacher had to give me 110% on my algebra exam!”
“hyung, hyung, my teacher said i used too many sources on that poetry paper, which do you think we might be able to cut to -”
“does this chemistry equation look likely to end in an explosion, hyung, or am i just not managing my hopes realistically, again?”
namjoon pulls up a chair and lets his face fall into an easy, well worn grin.
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
right before namjoon falls asleep that night, his phone hums under his pillow, reminding him that he hadn’t set it to ‘do not disturb’ yet.
namjoon smiles a little to himself, in spite of himself maybe.
no reply is forthcoming for a while after that and namjoon leaves his phone untouched for a while, reads a couple chapters of his new book on the gendered brain instead.
when he gives in and allows himself to check one last time before he goes to sleep, jungkook has replied.
namjoon doesn't want to reply to that. he really does not want to have to force himself to type out something that isn't just the word 'please' written over and over again, maybe in capital letters, until he physically can't anymore. but jungkook is so sweet, so kind and funny in this soft way that makes namjoon think of him as both someone to be protected and someone so good, so much that he must protect himself from him, too. and namjoon won't ever let him think that any kind of joke or passed remark he makes is in any way weird or unfunny, even if they make namjoon feel so much more than simply weird that he wants to crawl out of his own body and curl up in someone else's to see if anything about jungkook makes more sense from there.
namjoon finally puts his phone on 'do not disturb' and shoves it far enough up under his pillow that it hits the headboard.
he tries, but he doesn't sleep.
_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/
artwork by @mimisketchy on twitter; thank you mimi! ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
