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After Namjoon left for university and Jungkook had still been in high school for another two years things changed. It was not like Namjoon didn’t want to stay in touch with his sandcastle buddy, his baby brother and more, but life took when it gave so when he entered the cosmos of university programs, Jungkook stayed behind in their hometown.
Jungkook and home were still intertwined now; he had come back to Busan and he had come back to Jungkook for the same reasons: security and predictability and the warmth he had lacked for so long. It was never an ache, something in the forefront of his mind but it never vanished either. A constant of background noise as he did his degree and his year abroad and graduated some time later.
It took all but one year of Seoul until he didn’t come home for the holidays anymore. His course kept him busy and the more he read, the bigger the stack of books on his desk grew and the more work the professors assigned. Giving in and sacrificing everything in the name of literary criticism had been his first mistake, Namjoon mused. Once he realized how isolated he was in his bubble of annotated pages and cheap wine in dusty dorm rooms, it was too late to go back to normalcy. He had chosen this life and he was not one to back down easily.
It was so easy to flash a smile and talk about Chaucer’s work instead of the bone-deep exhaustion that you just couldn’t shake off.
But when he read and wrote papers and wondered about the merit of post-structuralism the earth kept spinning and Jungkook graduated and went off, too. Their paths had forked and it hadn’t seemed like they would cross again. Yet, he had contacted his former friend when his mother told him how great it was to have them both back in town and Jungkook had agreed to meet him. His response neutral but Namjoon hoped that was how adult Jungkook was.
Back in the day they took the simplicity of their friendship for granted. How they saw each other every day, joined at the hip, but even then things might not have been as simple as they seemed. For the longest time Namjoon thought all they had was pure and perfect, looking through rose tinted glass at the blanket tents and over-the-fence conversations they had.
They had their differences and fights; the older they got the harsher they were and the longer it took them to make up. Friendship didn’t mean the same thing when they were ten, twelve sixteen years old.
But the more time they spent together the closer they got and Namjoon couldn’t understand how they drifted so easily. Nothing could tear them apart when they were young, but they fell out when Namjoon left and he didn’t know if he could put them back together now.
It was painful at first, knowing that he had alienated his best friend and Namjoon still felt the shame coil in his stomach. Their bond had crumbled out of his consciousness and by the time he finished his degree – his Master’s degree – Jungkook and home was little more than a faint memory.
But just like their friendship there had been a turning point and Namjoon, 25 with a small office in the back of an indie publisher wished he was 17 again.
The home sickness hit him in the small moments, when he couldn’t find the right ingredients to make his favorite dinner, when he saw two boys in the park or his favorite coffee shop and wondered why they had changed. Why he had changed so much that his past self looked at him disdain whenever he closed his eyes.
Their time together seemed so far away, but once Namjoon had rubbed away the novelty of adulthood, he missed the time they spent together and imagined they could still be this easy. Talk for hours about everything and nothing until they fell asleep on top of the blankets, Jungkook pressed into his side and his hair tickling his ear whenever either of them moved. The afternoons spent lounging around or building a tree house in Jungkook’s backyard or racing through the neighborhood on their scooters.
Even though age had shown him so many other forms of comfort – physical and emotional - those memories were still his favorite kind of intimacy; unguarded and open with no demand or intention.
Namjoon prepared a simple meal for them as he waited for Jungkook to arrive. He didn’t know if it would be like a class get-together, only people you had forgotten showing up with their jobs and vacations and families. He wouldn’t be able to stand it if Jungkook became another acquaintance from his school days, it would be worse than being his long-lost friend.
He put the finishing touches on the stew when the doorbell rang. His apron – a gag gift from one of his colleagues last year – was smudged with chili and soy sauce because even though he could cook well enough now, he still made a mess wherever he went. Some things never change.
It was thrown over the back of a chair as he rushed to the door. He didn’t wait and let his nerves get to him. He knew they would if he hesitated, so he ripped open the door and came face to face with Jungkook.
They stared at each other, Namjoon’s eyes wandering over the longer hair and tight-fitting shirt. Jungkook had been tall – boyish tall, not grown-up tall - the last time they had seen each other. His jaw was sharp and his ear still pierced but reality hadn’t swallowed the bunny-teethed boy with too big eyes and spit out just another stranger like Namjoon had expected. He could still see the contours of his best friend and he hoped Jungkook saw the same.
He cleared his throat, watched a wave of something ripple through the man in front of him.
“It’s great to see you, come on in.”
“Thanks for inviting me.” His voice was deeper too but of course it was. He was 23 now, freshly out of university and both his Jungkook and a stranger. He didn’t know if this Jungkook would still laugh if he told him how he had broken his desk lamp the week before.
Namjoon lead him down the hallway and into the living area, his small kitchen cleared of the clutter for once while his bookshelf groaned under the weight of too many paperbacks.
“Just sit down, the stew should be ready in a moment.” He smiled, unsure but Jungkook didn’t seem to fare any better than him. He pattered around the kitchen and lifted a few lids, careful to not look at Jungkook too closely as he plated their food and sat down.
Dinner was a quiet affair, but it had always been between them. It didn’t take either of them long to finish their meal but unlike before when they’d jump straight back into their discussion, they stared at each other with mutual confusion. How was one to act when they meet their childhood friend- gone stranger for the first time in years?
“And they say some things never change,” Namjoon said under his breath and Jungkook chuckled.
“Good to know, it’s not just me. This feels more like a tinder date than a reunion.” Namjoon didn’t know when Jungkook’s mind had moved from shooting stars to tinder dates. His stomach coiled and he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to know.
“Well, at least the food was good. I already looked up pizza places in the area in case you were just as bad of a cook as I remembered.”
“I’ve had more than enough practice to learn how to not poison myself.” Namjoon refrained from pushing his chopsticks around the bowl but Jungkook followed his line of sight and he knew. He tended to fiddle when he was nervous.
“You’re looking good, Namjoon.”
“You too, Kook. If it weren’t for your bunny teeth, I wouldn’t have known it was you.” Their conversation stopped and again, neither of them knew what to say. Namjoon should apologize for the way he cast aside his closest friend and never got in touch until now, but he wasn’t the only one at fault. Jungkook could have reached out and asked him and Namjoon wouldn’t have been able to refuse because he could never refuse him anything.
“Still read as much as in high school, I see,” Jungkook said and looked over at the wall lined with bookshelves.
“Yeah. I still got some of my old books here, too. You know, the one I tried to get you to read for like three years until you gave in and hated it.”
“I didn’t hate it. It was just not the kind of book I liked.”
“Oh no, you hated it and didn’t want to tell me because you didn’t want to hurt my feelings.” Namjoon grimaced and wished he could take back what he had just said. Jungkook get upset and leave and that would be the end of their friendship once and for all.
“I just didn’t get it. Why you would like a story like that but if you liked it there had to be something, but I couldn’t figure out what it was.” They stared at the bookshelf until Namjoon couldn’t take it anymore and cleared the table, returned with two bottles of soju and glasses.
He appreciated the way alcohol shut his brain up and made things easier for the moment. Once the haze lifted, he could deal with the fallout but by then Jungkook wouldn’t be around anymore so he could mourn in peace.
“Just what I needed.” Jungkook poured them both a glass and they threw back the shot without looking at each other. It was weird, surreal, because before his eyes were always glued to Jungkook and Jungkook’s were to locked on him.
“To the good old times.” They raised their glasses again, gaze focused on the wooden table between them and drank. It burned Namjoon’s throat, soothed the mess in his head and after a few minutes the silence between them didn’t seem as tense anymore.
After another few minutes – and shots – Jungkook started rambling about this guy at work while Namjoon leaned back in his seat and listened. And if Namjoon closed his eyes it wasn’t that different from their high school years, when one would complain and the other would listen and console.
“And then he sends me on errands during lunch break because, ‘oh no but I need this to be ready for the 2pm meeting so you need to do it right now’. And then he makes comments about my hair or the way I walk as if I didn’t see the looks he gives me. Fucking closeted hypocrite.”
“Sounds like a real asshole with lots of complexes.” Jungkook nodded, a flush high on his cheeks but his eyes were hard as he looked at Namjoon.
“Not as much of an asshole as you were, but close. It least I know what he is all about.” It felt like a blow to his chest, had him wheezing but he knew that Jungkook was right. That’s what he had waited for ever since Jungkook had stepped into his apartment, but it still came as a surprise. For a few minutes he could pretend that nothing had changed.
“I’m sorry, Kook. I know that nothing I can say will make it up to you, but I want you to know that I am genuinely sorry for everything.” He bowed, head hovering above the table and maybe Jungkook would get up and leave. He had every right to do so.
“Why didn’t you call me? Or text me? I knew that you’d find new friends and have a great life and all but how could you just vanish?” Namjoon didn’t want to look up and see Jungkook crying. Not if he wasn’t able to comfort him like he had done so many times when they were young and simple.
“When I started in Seoul a whole new world opened up for me. Like someone threw a jigsaw puzzle at me and demanded me to solve it. And I wanted to, so badly that I stayed out and drank and made the wrong friends. At first, I didn’t want you to know because it would’ve made you feel bad. It made me feel bad to be away and still have all the joys I could imagine.” Namjoon swallowed but continued when Jungkook didn’t say anything.
“And all the others made me feel so childish, you know. I didn’t want to tell them about you because I knew what they thought about friendship and love and all the good things in the world. Which is to say not a lot and I didn’t want to admit that I wasn’t one of them. Not really at least. I enjoyed talking about books and seeing the symbols and the structure but outside of that they weren’t the right people for me.”
“So you chose to forget about me since you didn’t want to inconvenience yourself or your new friends. Is that it? Did you think you would help me by disappearing just like that?” Namjoon wanted to black out and never wake up again.
“I didn’t want to think about home. Because if I did, I would think about how Mom and Dad think I wasting my time and how everyone in school thinks I am wasting my time and maybe I am but that’s what I want to do. It’s my choice, right so no one gets to hate me for how I want to live my life.”
Jungkook stayed silent and traced the rim of his cup. The bottles between them were empty but Namjoon didn’t feel the energy to get more.
“But I’m not part of everyone. You remember this, right? I never could – never would have hated you or looked down on you if you had told me. You could have killed a puppy and I would have found a way to make it sound reasonable, Namjoon. But you fucking went and did the only thing that could ruin us.” Jungkook yelled, hands up in the air but Namjoon felt nothing but a shiver down his back. He should react but if he lost his cool now, it would be over.
“How could you do this to me?” There were tears and Jungkook didn’t wipe them away and his voice broke and the world closed in on them. Nothing mattered but the table between them and the buzz in their veins. Namjoon felt hazy as he got up, but he didn’t know what he was doing.
“And you know what’s the worst about all of this? I still can’t hate you for what you did. Because you were my best friend, my person, Hyung. Even when you walked away from us, I couldn’t.” Namjoon hovered for a moment but pulled Jungkook into his arms when the other man didn’t shy away from him. It was a reflex, honed by years of skinned knees and mean comments. He had always been there until Jungkook needed him the most.
“I’m sorry. It doesn’t mean shit because I fucked up but I’m sorry, Kook.” He cried, silent as he held his lifeline and hoped it wouldn’t be the last time. Jungkook clawed into his back and pressed his forehead on his shoulder, nothing but labored breaths filling the air around them.
“I wish I could hate you.” Namjoon hiccoughed and tightened his hold.
“It would be so much easier if I could just hate you and move on. But no, here I am in your apartment so giddy and confused that I didn’t sleep because I missed you so much. You don’t know how hard it was to keep going when you left me behind. When I had no one to have my back no matter what happened.” Jungkook broke of and drew a sharp breath. Namjoon let his fingers dance over his shoulder blades, a tinkle to distract him from the blooming pain.
“I shouldn’t have left. I don’t care about my degree or classes or the fuckton of articles I’ve written. I thought that’s what I wanted, to be the Byronic hero everyone talks about, but I was wrong. I can’t change what happened and I don’t deserve to go back to how things were.”
Jungkook sniffled in the crook of his neck and that was response enough. Namjoon knew he should stop, but his mind was jumbled and he didn’t know what he’d do if he didn’t talk. He had to fill the room so it didn’t suck them up.
“I wish I could turn back time and we’d be kids again. I’d do it all over again, better this time. I’d never let you down, Kook, I promise.”
“Please don’t leave me again. That’s all I ask for, don’t leave me again.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Namjoon rocked them from side to side as they stood in his living room and cried their eyes out. In the end all it took was one pressure point until they were both falling apart but now that the walls were broken, they could see the shambles on the ground. All the unsent messages and hidden truths were there and Namjoon could reach out and grasp them, if he wanted to.
The last time they had cried like this had been so long ago that it seemed like a different life entirely. Namjoon had been fifteen – sixteen, seventeen? – when Jungkook had come into his room and crawled into his open arms without a word of explanation. They had laid there until Jungkook calmed and whispered his darkest secrets into his neck. How he liked boys and how could anyone – anyone but Namjoon of course – still like him, if he was like that. Why did he have to be like this when no one else was?
Namjoon hadn’t known what to do but hold him close and be there when he was needed the most. He didn’t say that it was going to be alright or that he was the same or that all of this would blow over. He didn’t know at that time and once he figured out Jungkook never mentioned it again.
There were hints between them – they way they held each other close until their heartbeats synced or how Jungkook looked at him as if he hung the stars in the sky - and he pulled away before the what ifs became reality. He knew there was an underlying issue but it’s not like he could do much about it. Once the base was rotten everything sunk into the ground, torturously slow so everyone could watch but no one could help.
The story was boring because the structure was bad, he couldn’t love Jungkook because he hated himself. He didn’t see it until later when it rang in his head in the dark of the night – I hate myself I hate myself -, but when he looked back now and saw nothing but a haze of Jungkook and resentment, he knew.
“I’m sorry that you love me. That I can’t love myself.” Jungkook sobbed. Gathered his strength and let Namjoon lean into him.
“I’m not sorry. I could never regret it, but I wished it had stopped when you left. But then I wouldn’t be here now, if I didn’t love you anymore.”
“You shouldn’t, Kook. Not after all I’ve done to you and the pain I caused you.” Why couldn’t Jungkook see that nothing would change now, that it was only a matter of time until he pulled away again and hurt him, worse than before even.
“You should know that things rarely are the way they should be. You shouldn’t hate yourself so it’s only fair that I love you. Despite everything.”
“But you can’t just forgive me. I did nothing to regain your trust or show you how much I regret everything I’ve done.” Namjoon tried to pull away but Jungkook kept him close, chest to chest and head on shoulder.
“It’s only fair that I get to make the decisions between us now, don’t you think? And I want to forgive you, maybe not right now but with a bit of time and bribing.”
“Kook, you shouldn’t-“
“I don’t care, I will. And all you can do is watch and cope with me here to catch you, if needed.” Namjoon wanted to object and push him away because it was the right thing to do. Even though he never wanted Jungkook to leave his apartment again because it was brighter with him there, the cloud over their heads thinning with every rub of snot and tears against Namjoon’s sweater.
He could see the next day, hungover and dazed but more alive than in the past months. How they’d spent bouts of time together as they got used to each other’s presence again. Maybe there was more on the horizon, but he didn’t dare venture too far when the path right ahead was uncertain.
“You can’t push me away again, please.” Jungkook cupped his face, looked up at him with tear-clad lashes and his fringe covering his forehead. There was more, the tingle in his fingertips told him there was more. But it couldn’t be this simple, right? He couldn’t just invite Jungkook and they’d make up and move on. There were years of silence between them that neither of them would ever forget.
But Jungkook told him that it could be easy so who was he to fight it.
“I won’t.” Namjoon saw the flicker of uncertainty in Jungkook’s eyes. It would take a long time until it would vanish. He was willing to wait and make things work however he could. Because Jungkook was reason enough to keep trying.