Work Text:
Namjoon is definitely outspoken, he gets praised on his words no matter if it’s a tweet or the UNICEF speech, but he would say that he’s more of a listener than a talker.
He had been scheduled a lot of conferences the past couple of days, with a new comeback on the horizon it was typical for Namjoon to sit in on these meetings, business suit men conversing back and forth on the best way to advertise, give ARMY the best experience. That’s all that Namjoon wanted really, was for the ARMY who supported them to the ends of the earth to enjoy the new songs and dances that they were about to come out with.
The issue started small, a small bubble in the back of his brain, cloudy and dim. “Do these employees even care about my music? Isn’t this just about money to them?” He quickly got rid of the thought before it could consume him, but days and days of meetings wore him down like marble, a disintegrating statue being chipped away word by word. Spoken over, silenced, he didn’t even know why he was there in the first place.
The blistering heat of the afternoon was slowly but surely leading into a humid evening, Namjoon’s walk between the dorms and BigHit’s office guaranteed a massive summer shower, the sky to his left a clear crystal blue, the right sinking into a rolling grey.
He quickly pocketed the mask he was wearing as soon as he had unlocked the door and made his way into the kitchen of his house. A chorus of “Hi hyung!” “Thank god you’re home” sounded, followed by the thunks of running through the hallway, a whirl of black hoodies and fluffed out hair smacking into the counter.
Smiling warmly, Namjoon set down his keys, “Kook, Tae, what’s up?”
“Well okay, let me just preface this by saying that whoever decided to let us cook dinner, is a clown.” Jungkook swiped his hair out of his face dramatically, giving a face towards Taehyung, “But I wasn’t the one who almost burnt the house down.”
Taehyung immediately recoils, wide eyed and mouth agape, “Woah hold on, it’s not my fault that Hoseok called me and I had to leave for a second! You were supposed to be the one to keep an eye on the oven while I was gone!”
Namjoon at this point, tapped out of the conversation. His head starting to ache, a creeping pain from the back of his neck that crawled up around his skull. As if his brain was in a pressure cooker, waves of warmth washing over him. He gripped his shoulder blade, wincing at the searing pain that ignited through him, clearly he would have to take some medicine before things got worse.
“Um.. All of this is to say, we probably won’t have something good for dinner.” Jungkook pressed his lips together into a fine line, looking down at the tile, “Sorry hyung.”
Namjoon had caught the tail end of what was said, shaking his head to shake off the feeling of being compressed, while at the same time, pretending like he was listening.
“It’s fine, don’t worry. I’ll figure something out.” He shuffles away, patting Jungkook on the back before heading into his room. He didn’t hear soft whispers that echoed from the kitchen, too busy holding his forehead to focus.
The only light emitting in the room was his desktop, left open on a work in progress he’d been fiddling with for the last couple weeks. With an Advil in hand and bottle of water, he plops into his desk chair with a long sigh.
Time, at least for now, had taken off from it’s job, leaving Namjoon to stare endlessly into the white light of his screen, he had long since forgotten if he was even moving the mouse. That bubble of thoughts had grown larger since he had left the meeting, with Namjoon finding his vision blurry with tears.
He rested his head in his hands, staring down at his keyboard, “Not right now, I can not be dealing with this-“
“Monnie-hyung? Can I come in?” A perky voice practically materialized behind him, the bright hallway lights illuminating the cave Namjoon resided in. “I heard about the kitchen disaster, so I ordered take out for everyone, I hope you don’t mind.”
Namjoon wiped his eyes with his hands before turning around, masking himself with a smile, “Of course Jimin-ah, thank you.”
He meets Jimin in the middle of the room, taking the container from his hands and opening it, inhaling the steam that rose out from it. The familiarity of good food warming his cheeks, making him feel a little less ragged around the edges. He sits down at the desk chair, but swivels around when he hears the door shut and his bed creek.
Jimin sat crisscross, posture almost too elegant for shoveling noodles in his face. He looked up at Namjoon, holding a finger up and chewing before saying, “I wanted to make sure you didn’t eat dinner alone.”
Namjoon looks down at his food, chopsticks turning over the rice, similarly to the pit in his stomach that wouldn’t stop sinking deeper. “That’s very sweet Jimin, but you don’t have to stay with me, you know I have work to do. The fact that you even brought me food is enough.”
Jimin tuts, patting the comforter in front of him, “Noo hyung, come here.” He pouts out his bottom lip, knowing that at this point Namjoon had no choice but listen to him.
With Namjoon’s back now against the wall on the bed, they eat together for a couple of minutes. It takes Jimin to break down walls that seemed to have thickened in the silence. “So how’s your work anyway? I know you’ve been super busy with meetings this week.”
It was asked so innocently that Namjoon couldn’t have been made at Jimin, but it felt like pressing on a bare nerve, making him clench his teeth. “It’s whatever.. I’m just glad that this week is almost over.” He shrugs, eyes staying on his food until Jimin’s hand covers the top.
“Hyung.. You know you can talk about it if you want, right?”
Namjoon’s eyes flutter up to Jimin’s, sincere eyes sending him spiraling. It takes a moment to find his voice, like popping off the lid of a pressure cooker. Once it’s off, everything explodes.
“I’m just so tired Jimin. Every single day I’ve been listening, doing as I’m told, being taught, being critiqued, being told what wrong with this or what’s needed next. I’ve been the backboard for everyone to bounce their ideas of off, and the caretaker of everyone’s needs. It’s not that I don’t want to be that, I love helping you guys or the people at BigHit, but I can only take so much. I feel like i’m fading Jimin, like I’m not in control of my own voice, like I’m here for everyone else. At the end of the day, am I only there to listen? Is there even a moment for me to speak anymore?”
He didn’t even realize he was crying, or that their food was put to the side in exchange for Jimin taking his hands into his own. He squeezed his eyes shut, his head pounding as the waves that had been built up finally crashed into him.
“Joonie darling..” Jimin’s thumb swiped along Namjoon’s knuckles, “Don’t believe what you’re saying is true.. I know it feels that way now, but, hey-“ Jimin takes one of his hands and lifts Namjoon’s chin, drying the tears building up on his cheek.
“Joon, you aren’t just something for someone to use. You aren’t a machine that takes whatever people say without feeling. You’re human aren’t you? The right to speech is equal to the right to listen. You deserve to be heard hyung, I’m serious.”
Namjoon’s face contorted, eyelashes flushing rapidly to clear his vision, seeing Jimin’s face, which had tears of his own sliding down his face. He pulled Jimin closer to him, arms swooping under into hug. Jimin’s head rested in the crook of Namjoon’s neck, his body wrapping himself around him, warmth radiating back and forth, their breathing syncing together slowly between hiccups from crying. A hand slides through Namjoon’s hair, cradling him gently. He wasn’t used to being the small one in situations, usually Namjoon was the one doing the comforting, but the thoughts slip away with Jimin’s touch, soft, like home.
They stay together for the rest of the night, finishing their food and sitting together. Jimin makes sure that Namjoon is doing most of the talking, asking questions on things of interest, like how his bonsai were or what newest music was he listening to. By midnight they had ended up under the covers, no detest from either side about holding each other as they drifted off, it was an emotional night, so the idea of cuddling was more welcomed than anything else.
It takes Namjoon till the next day, on a walk in the park with Jimin to remember the rainstorm that loomed overhead, which was replaced with the prettiest of blue skies. For a moment he smiles to himself, even if someone isn’t letting him speak, he knows that the world is listening to him.