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A fun, normal, best friend trip. That was how Seokjin had described it, all big smiles and bright eyes. We deserve a best friend trip, Namjoon. It’s gonna be great.
And the tickets to France were cheaper than they should have been, and Namjoon had just, just gotten out of a four-year relationship in a breakup that wasn’t nearly as devastating as it should have been, honestly - which is a sign, if he thinks about it too much - and the last time he had been to Paris was with his ex, so. So Namjoon said yes, not really thinking about it too much.
Except, Jin had left - just a few - details out.
Like, that they were going to Seokjin’s cousin’s wedding together, and that Namjoon had already been stenciled in as a plus one. Like, that they really couldn’t afford housing on their own, so they were going to be staying with Seokjin’s cousin, Taehyung, which was fine, except, the apartment only had two rooms, and so Seokjin and Namjoon had to share.
Which, again. Fine. Seokjin stayed over all the time - they stayed up too late, sometimes, watching k-dramas and cooking, and it didn’t make sense for Seokjin to make the twenty minute walk back home, so even though Namjoon’s bed was honestly far, far too small for two grown men - he knew he needed a new one, but the hassle of moving in another bed was too much for his exhausted graduate student brain - they shared. Jin offered to sleep on the couch, of course, but Namjoon’s parents raised him with manners - but not so many that he would sleep on the couch.
So. They did share beds, sort of often. Once a week. If that counted as often.
It really, really did, according to Yoongi.
Namjoon didn’t listen to Yoongi. Yoongi also said this trip is an insane idea, what are you thinking, you’re too in love with him to spend 8 days alone with him.
And. Well. Maybe Yoongi had a point, because Namjoon is about to rip his hair out.
The first issue was that Jin, despite having enough family in France that his cousin felt it necessary to hold a wedding in the French countryside, spoke no French. Namjoon’s wasn’t great, but it was passable, and so when Taehyung picked them up from the airport, Namjoon found himself trying to switch between Korean, French, and English until he gave himself a headache. And Taehyung was too busy, y’know, planning a wedding to do much more than put them up, hand them a set of keys, and run out to solve whatever new disaster that came up. So. When Jin wanted to go out, Namjoon had to translate.
The whole thing was exhausting - Jin speaking to him in rapid-fire Korean, him trying to muddle together a sentence, mixing English and French and dramatic hand-gestures, and by the end of it he was speaking to Jin in French and Jin just laughed at him, pulling him into a hug and kissing his forehead, and that made the whole thing almost worth it.
And then, of course, there was the wedding. Taehyung’s wedding. Which meant all of Taehyung and Jin’s family visiting, meeting Namjoon as Jin’s plus one, which inevitably raised questions.
Jin insisted on introducing Namjoon to his relatives as “My wonderful plus one,” with Jin’s hand sitting solidly on the small of his back. Which. Was fine.
It became less fine at dinner, after three glasses of champagne, speaking to Jin’s uncle about how he first met his wife, and Jin’s uncle smiled so, so warmly at them, and asks how they met.
Jin launched, into the story, his smile beaming, talking about how they were originally supposed to be roommates, but Namjoon accidentally locked himself out of his apartment the day they were supposed to meet and spent the whole day trying to find keys, therefore standing Jin up, and Jin figured that he didn’t really want to live with someone so absent-minded, but that he definitely, definitely needed to save Namjoon before he set an apartment on fire.
So, they didn’t become roommates, but they become best friends, and that was better, Namjoon thought.
“Everyone thinks we’re dating,” Namjoon muttered, and Jin just smiled, kissing his cheek. “So?” he asked.
Then they were seven glasses of wine deep, and the dancing started.
And Jin started dancing, in the way he always does, loud and boisterous and purposefully bad, honestly, and …
And Jin is beautiful. Jin is always so, so beautiful, but especially under the lights, in his - far too tight, far too fitted - suit, and everyone is staring. And Namjoon is slow, and doesn’t always like to dance, and so Jin is just - there, dancing with every pretty person who asks and Namjoon thinks his brain is going to explode.
So Namjoon danced, in sort-of-drunken-revenge, and drank more and more until he asked a man who he’d been grinding with for an hour if he wanted to go home with him, and the man says no, kindly, and kissed Namjoon for a split-second - his first kiss since his ex - and Seokjin just grinned at Namjoon and took him home.
He woke up half-naked, curled up next to Seokjin and so, so embarassed.
Taehyung laughed the next morning at the post-wedding brunch and asked if Namjoon had gotten over the whole “caring what other people thought about him” thing, and Namjoon honestly wanted to die then and there.
Seokjin just ruffled his hair and grinned. Jimin, Taehyung’s husband, laughed until his body shook, and Namjoon groaned, his head falling into his hands. He didn’t - he cared so, so much about what other people thought of him, and sure he’d never see these people again, but oh god, did he really proposition someone? He did not like drunk Namjoon. Drunk Namjoon made his heart clench and stomach turn and he wanted to run very, very far away.
On the way home, Seokjin asked him if he was okay, and held his hand, and that helped. They sort of cooked - if cheese and sliced meat in a baguette counted as cooking - and walked around Paris and that helped more.
Usually, when Seokjin and Namjoon shared a bed, they didn’t touch. Even in his too-small bed, they guarded that centimeter of distance nearly religiously, but.
But when they went to bed that night, Namjoon’s head was pounding and he couldn’t get out of his own head, thinking about the way he’d danced, the things he’d said, and he wanted to scream or turn back time or rip his skin off or something, the embarassment went so deep and oh god was he a slut what did people think of him and Seokjin gave him a single, long, slow look and held his hand until Namjoon could breathe again, and he didn’t let go.
He woke up with Seokjin’s arm curled loosely around his, and he felt his whole face go red.
The next morning, Taehyung left for his honeymoon, and Namjoon could have taken Taehyung’s room, but…he didn’t, and Seokjin didn’t bring it up.
The next morning, Seokjin made them both coffee and brought back pastries from the patisserie downstairs, and asked him where he wanted to go.
And Namjoon, because he was an idiot, says he’ll take Seokjin through Paris, because, y’know, he’s been there once.
With his ex.
So. That’s great.
Except.
It sort of is, great, Namjoon realizes. He loves Paris with Seokjin.
With his ex, it was - an itinerary. A list of places to check off, far too many of them involving alcohol, far too many of them way outside of Namjoon’s budget (which was fine, his ex said, he was paying for everything, but Namjoon never felt super comfortable with that), and… it felt suffocating.
But, with Seokjin, it feels… different. Good. Beautiful, even. He loves watching Seokjin’s eyes light up as he sees the Arc du Triomphe for the first time, snapping photos and insisting that Joon take at least a dozen of him. He loves sitting at cafes with Seokjin, who insists on Namjoon having the last bite of everything, shoving his fork towards Namjoon’s face and smearing it with chocolate when Namjoon tries to dodge it.
He loves walking through Montmartre, and staring at the wall of I love yous, and he thinks for a split second as Jin poses in front of “I love you” in Korean how easy it would be to just tell him, and how that rejection would burn more than every other one he’s ever felt.
So he just smiles at Jin instead, and takes his photos, and walks with him to the Maison Rose and Moulin Rouge and grins when Seokjin tries to shove a beret on his head.
And at night, they go to a bistro, and Jin inhales so much steak that Namjoon can’t help but be impressed.
And at night, they share a bed, and Jin holds Namjoon’s hand, and Namjoon wonders if it really has to be as hard as he thinks it is, and his chest siezes up and his heart feels like madness and his ears scream and Jin squeezes his hand tigher and pulls Namjoon to his chest, running his fingers through Namjoon’s hair until its all quiet.
“Thanks,” Jin says, “for coming with me.”
Namjoon blinks. “Of course. I wouldn’t say no to you.”
Jin smiles against Namjoon’s hair. “No,” he answers, “no, you usually don’t.” Jin goes quiet, for a moment, and Namjoon knows this quiet - it feels heavy, like Jin is chewing over something, and Jin finally lets out a huff of breath and asks, “Namjoon, do you want to date me?”
Namjoon thinks he’s going to pass out, and then Jin finishes, “Because, I think I’d like to date you. If you’d like that.”
Namjoon is dreaming, he thinks, but he doesn’t want to offend dream-Jin, so he just nods and says yes, and then dream-Jin is kissing him, low and soft and sweet and pulling Namjoon closer and, well, if he’s asleep this is very realistic dream.
The next morning, Jin makes coffee and brings them pastries from downstairs and kisses Namjoon full on the mouth, and, well, maybe it wasn’t entirely a best friend trip, but it was gonna be great.