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Chapter Text

It was Jungkook’s fault.  Namjoon didn’t really like to assign blame like that but in this case, he felt pretty comfortable saying that it was Jungkook’s fault that it started the way it did.

Out of all of them, Jungkook was the only one who’d ever been the kind dork to get into fan culture.  Seokjin came close but in the end he was more the rabid consumer-and-collector type.  Jungkook was the kind that lurked on Tumblr and Twitter and would sometimes respond to texts with memes none of the rest of them understood. 

Going from being a kid who liked fan culture to being an adult who was part of something fan culture was built around hadn’t made Jungkook any less interested.  If anything, it just made him squeal and get teary more.

But then Jungkook accidentally retweeted fanart on the group’s account.  They sat him down for a talk and he grudgingly agreed to shut down his three (three?!? Namjoon had wanted to sputter) fan accounts.

So that should have been the end of that.

But it wasn’t.  

Tours tended to have long stretches that seemed to be built for boredom.  There was only so much time anyone could spend being a tourist and anyway, the way things worked, they were either doing their best to get through a tight schedule of promotions, press junkets, and performances or catching their breath and waiting out the empty time in between.  

Everyone had their ways of filling downtime.  Namjoon liked to go for walks and look at art.  Hoseok liked to shop.  Yoongi liked to stay in his room and work on music.

Jimin had a cycle:

1. Work on music
2. Ask for Namjoon’s help with said music
3. Eventually pause working on said song and stay up half the night talking
4. Need to take a break from work
5. Get to Jungkook and/or Taehyung to entertain him
6. Get drunk
7. Try and get Namjoon to do whatever Jimin thought was entertaining the night before (sometimes)
8. Get drunk again (maybe)
9. Spend a day reading and deliberately not drinking
10. Start working again

It may have had several steps but even Jimin could admit he was predictable.

So Jimin was more or less on schedule when he showed up at Namjoon’s room one night with two bottles of wine and a mischievous look on his face.

“Let’s get drunk and read fanfiction.”

“Um, what?”  Namjoon blinked at him but he still held the door open so Jimin could come in.

“You know,” Jimin said, walking past him and setting the bottles down on the cabinet with the TV on it.  “Like when people write stories about characters in books and movies and…”

“I know what fanfiction is,” Namjoon cut him off.  “I wondered why we were supposed to be reading it.”

“Because.”  The mischievous smile was back.  “This time it’s about us.”  Jimin held his phone up so Namjoon could see a series of links in a message.  “Jungkook sent me a bunch of stuff that’s about you and me.”

“Why does…?”  Jimin shot him a look.  “Nevermind.”

“I just thought it sounded hilarious,” Jimin went into the bath room and came out holding two of the glasses left by the hotel.  “Namjoon!  Oppa!”  He dramatically swooned in the doorway.  “Come on,” Jimin laughed at himself and set the glasses down so that he could open a bottle of wine.  “What else were you doing tonight?”

Namjoon lamely looked over at the book he’d only been kind of, sort of reading.

“Not much, I guess.”

*     *     *

“‘You’re the only one I could ever love,’” Namjoon got out through breathy laughs, reading from Jimin’s phone. “‘I know I hurt you but you have to understand, I thought I was doing what you wanted.”

“Oh god, god,” Jimin was rolling on the bed laughing so hard he was starting to hiccup.  His cheeks were rosy from the wine and the second bottle sat half-empty on Namjoon’s nightstand.  “That’s the worst confession I’ve ever heard.”  He tapped Namjoon on the knee a couple of times.  “What do I say after that?”

“Uh… not much.  We start making out and…” Namjoon swiped a few times, scanning the story, “apparently, I take your virginity.”

Jimin grabbed the phone out of Namjoon’s hand and stared at it angrily.  “I am NOT a virgin.”

“We’re also not chaebol kids in an arranged marriage,” Namjoon countered, taking the opportunity to take a long drink of wine.  Jimin had had a lot more to drink than Namjoon had but that was fine with him.  Namjoon was pleasantly tipsy and Jimin was fun to hang out with when he was drunk, so it worked out.

“Better than the one where you were coughing up flower petals and almost died,” Jimin said, poking around on his phone.

“Jesus, that one was sad.”

“I promise if you ever fall in love with me, I’ll love you back,” Jimin replied distractedly, still staring at his phone.

“Thanks.”  

“Here,” Jimin held his phone out to Namjoon, “read this one.”

Namjoon took the phone and looked at the story Jimin had handed him.

“This one is really long.”

“I know.”  Jimin shrugged and laid down with his head on one of Namjoon’s pillows.  “But it sounds sweet.”

Namjoon started reading out loud.  It didn’t take long for Namjoon to admit that Jimin was right.  It was a sweet story.  It was supposed to be about their real lives and although none of it was right, Namjoon liked the way the author wrote about them, lingering on small feelings and ordinary things.  

Namjoon was about to comment on the writing but when he glanced over at the pillow, he noticed that Jimin had fallen asleep.  He was curled on his side facing Namjoon and he looked so fast asleep, Namjoon didn’t have it in him to wake him up and tell him to go to his own room.

It was fine.  It wasn’t the first time they’d shared a bed.  Namjoon didn’t like bunking up together in principle but with Jimin he’d never really minded.  Jimin was a still sleeper and got Namjoon well enough to give him his space without making it weird.

It was comfortable.

Namjoon thought about crawling under the covers and going to sleep, too, but he also sort of wanted to know where the story was going.

Just one more chapter, he told himself.  And then I’ll go to bed.

*     *     *

It was four in the morning when Namjoon finished reading the story.  By that time he’d cried twice and had to stifle several laughs so he didn’t wake up Jimin.

It was strange reading about himself living a life that was sort of but really nothing like his own.  But unlike the other stories, he and Jimin just sounded right.  He’d liked reading their fictional banter.  It was fun but also obvious just how much he and fictional Jimin cared about each other.

It made Namjoon smile.  

And there was something about Jimin’s voice in the story.  Energetic.  Intelligent.  Teasing.  But also kind and devoted.  And the author also seemed to get that they really were similar people.  Even though Jimin and Namjoon moved through the world in very different ways, it was easy for them to understand each other.

Reading about them being romantically involved was a little bizarre but the affection underneath was real.

Namjoon fondly glanced over at Jimin, who was still curled up asleep next to him.

Jimin even slept prettily.  He looked peaceful and serene.  His full lips and round cheeks made him look like a china doll.  Fragile in a way he wasn’t when he was awake.  He…

Namjoon stopped his thoughts in their tracks.  He sounded like the version of himself from the story.  The fictional one who fell in love with Jimin.

That story must have gotten into his head.  Namjoon really needed to stop looking at Jimin and get some sleep.  

He didn’t move, though.

Maybe it was because of the wine but Namjoon felt like all the pieces of their relationship and how much he adored Jimin were shuffling around inside of him, clicking together like clockwork locking into place.

What was that thing they said in the stories?

Oh.

Chapter Text

There were many words that could be used to describe Namjoon.  Two of Namjoon’s favorites were “focused” and “thoughtful.”

Focused meant that he was able to take that confusing train of thought from the night he and Jimin had stayed up reading fanfiction and set it to the side, so that he could focus on the more important things:  interviews, rehearsals, and performances.  He was a professional on tour and he never lost focus of that.

Thoughtful meant that he didn’t necessarily leap to conclusions about his feelings.  He liked to give himself time to digest things, to meditate and to sort them out.  So that was what he was doing now, giving himself time.

Jimin had once told him that he was so good at repressing things when he wanted to that he made it look smart and elegant.

Namjoon had immediately protested but Jimin had just laughed at him.

“I push away things I don’t want to think about, too.  I just look a lot messier when I do it.”

Of course, that was exactly what Namjoon was not doing now.

And besides, he rationalized, what if it had just been the story?

It wouldn’t be the first time Namjoon got caught up in something.  He was a creative person.  Being swept up in large feelings about things was just part of who he was.

So at the start of the next stretch of downtime, Namjoon decided to test that theory.  He pulled out his phone and went to the website with all the fanfictions that Jungkook had sent Jimin.

Namjoon did a double take and put his phone back down on the bed.

There were so many stories.

Okay, first of all, it was a little shocking just how many people wanted to write stories about him and Jimin kissing each other.

Secondly, how the hell was he supposed to figure out which ones to read?

Namjoon spent the length of half a second considering texting Jungkook and asking for advice.

The second half of the second was spent realizing how that would probably be the most mortifying thing he’d ever done in his life.

Namjoon picked his phone back up and started looking for ways to narrow things down a bit.

Aside from searching via popularity he realized pretty quickly that there were genres to these things, kinds of repeating things.

That should narrow it down.

After a few more minutes of considering Namjoon clicked on the “college AU” tag.

It seemed less likely to be graphically pornographic and he’d already seen some things that would make him blush even if they hadn’t been about him.

Plus, they’d never really gone to college.  Not in the whole, go-to-school-on-campus, make-friends-and-get-into-trouble kind of way.

A few days later, Namjoon was pretty sure he was more or less an expert.

1. Being assigned to a group project with your crush and/or enemy was probably going to happen
2. Lots of things happen at house parties
3. Half the time someone works as a barista
   • Apparently, everyone wants to fuck a barista   

Maybe he was naive but the last one was kind of a surprise to Namjoon.  In Seoul he went to the same coffee shop almost every morning to grab breakfast and coffee on his way to work.  The two young women usually on staff were very sweet and knew his order by heart at this point but it’d never crossed his mind that he should be dating one of them.

Namjoon was taking a break from looking at art and was waiting at a small coffee shop in a museum when an idea popped into his head again.

As he watched the young man behind the counter make his cappuccino, it occurred to Namjoon that the point of this wasn’t to figure out if he had a thing for baristas, the point was to figure out if he had a thing for Jimin.

So (for the sake of science) he tried to imagine Jimin behind the counter instead.

The Jimin in his mind almost immediately dropped several lattes and Namjoon decided he had to stick him behind the register or let him go.

Okay, that was definitely a strike against having feelings for Jimin.  He really shouldn’t be trying to manage him in his fantasies.  That was the furthest thing from romantic.

He sighed and thanked the young man as he handed him his coffee.  

When he turned around Jimin and Jungkook were already waving at him to sit down at the table they’d picked out.

“What’s the matter, hyung?”  Jungkook’s eyebrows furrowed the moment Namjoon sat down.

“Nothing.”  Namjoon shook his head.  He had to laugh at himself about the whole dumb train of thought.  “Just thinking.”

“Well don’t get too lost in there.”  Jimin put a hand on Namjoon’s forearm and grinned up at him with that brilliant smile.  “We’re going to that special exhibit you were excited about next.  And Jungkook and I have absolutely no idea what’s going on there,” Jimin laughed, “so you have to enjoy it for all of us.”

Namjoon felt something warm in his chest as he smiled back at Jimin.

He didn’t think about baristas for the rest of the afternoon.

*     *     *

The evening after the museum visit, Namjoon went back to reading.  Clearly he’d been focusing on the wrong things.  The point was to figure out if any of this romance stuff struck a chord, right?  Or if it was just the way things always were with Jimin and now Namjoon was reading things into it.

Besides, Namjoon thought, tossing his phone on to his hotel room bed.  When you were close to someone who was pretty squarely in the middle of a circle labelled “my type” there was bound to be a wire getting crossed somewhere along the line.

Suddenly Namjoon had one of those thoughts that came seemingly nowhere, dragging years of embarrassment behind it.

It’d been a stupid Q&A for a Japanese magazine.

Namjoon groaned and fell face first onto the bed, burying his face in his pillow.

“When I look at Jimin... I can’t help but think he’s really sexy.  He’s really flexible when he dances.  Among the members, he has a smaller figure and a doll-like face, yet he has muscles.  He’s really attractive.”

Six members talking about why they thought each other were charming and then Namjoon just sitting there shouting, “JIMIN’S HOT.”

He folded the pillow around his head like he could make the memory go away, even if he knew that quote was going to follow him around forever.

Without looking up Namjoon reached out and patted around on his bed, trying to find his phone.  Once it was finally in his fingers he propped his chin on his pillow and read the list of stories he’d pulled up.

Time for a distraction, at least.

*     *     *

This time around, Namjoon focused on what  he always thought was the most romantic bit of rom-coms: the meet-cute.  He read himself and Jimin bumping into each other on campus, meeting up in classrooms, at house parties, and through friends.  Sometimes Jimin was shy in the stories.  Sometimes he unabashedly slept around.  Namjoon was usually at least a little awkward or a little too nice.

It was definitely a series of fun-house mirror versions of themselves, sometimes stretched almost beyond recognition in one way or another.

Maybe that was why none of the meetings made his heart flutter.

Or maybe Namjoon had really just proved his point to himself.  Maybe it was just a story and some overthinking.

*     *     *

Namjoon was a dazed mess over breakfast the next morning.  They were going to a TV studio to do a tech rehearsal before a late night TV appearance, so they were all crowded around the same breakfast buffet before getting stuck into black cars with tinted windows and shuttled away.

“Namjoon, did you hear what I said about the second formation change?”  

Hoseok was staring at him over the table with that unflappably cheerful face but with a look in his eyes that also said he was in dance captain mode.

“Sorry,” Namjoon grimaced.  “Just a little tired.  Sorry for setting a bad example, everyone.”

“It’s okay.”  Hoseok gave him a break and turned back to his cereal.  “Stages outside of Asia tend to be small, so I worry.”

“Bad night, hyung?”  Jimin looked at him sympathetically while he finished a banana.

“Yeah,” Namjoon nodded.  “Just nervous about that speech I have to give,” he said almost out of reflex.  

It wasn’t entirely a lie.  There was a speech that Namjoon was stressed about.  And the idea of anyone finding out what he’d really been getting up to was mortifying beyond belief.

“Want some help going over it?”  Jimin picked up a fork and started going after Namjoon’s eggs without permission.  “I’m not good at English but I know ‘um’ and uncomfortable silences pretty well.”

“That would actually be really great,” Namjoon said honestly.  It wouldn’t be the first time Jimin had played audience while Namjoon practiced being a public figure.

“Great!  I’ll come by your room tonight then.  Get ready for me to tell you how great you are.”

Namjoon let out a small laugh at that and went back to what was left of his eggs.  

“Hey,” Taehyung protested.  “You should come to my room and tell me I’m great, too.”

Namjoon let the conversation drift past him again but he felt better now.  Jimin always made him feel better.

There was another thing Namjoon had said in a Q&A once.

Jimin is my anchor.

And that, he realized suddenly, was why none of the meet cutes meant much to him.  It wasn’t that he hadn’t recognized them in the characters.  It was that reading about meeting someone for the first time could only do so much when one of the things you loved about them was how much they were a part of your life.  How easy it was to need and depend on them.

He glanced over at Jimin again, who was in the middle of laughing his way through a fight with Taehyung and Seokjin.

You didn’t think about changing a relationship like the one he and Jimin had unless you were really, really sure.

A plastic spoon flew past Namjoon’s head.

“Come on,” Namjoon protested.  He was still tired and a little grumpy, after all.  “This isn’t the quad.”

Six confused faces looked back at him.

“I mean… we’re not outside,” he corrected lamely.  “It’s an American thing.  I’ve been reading.”

Everyone seemed to take that in stride.

Namjoon sent out a grateful prayer that no one had asked what book.

Chapter Text

Everyone else on the plane was asleep except Namjoon.

Namjoon was completely awake and completely engrossed.

He should be asleep, too.  Namjoon knew he was going to regret it when they landed.  But he also couldn’t stop reading.

This time they were in the mafia.  There were rival factions, tragic pasts, and shoot outs.

He was a little embarrassed to admit it but Namjoon was on the edge of his metaphorical seat.

It was also a little bizarre.  Namjoon was the sort of person who professed his love for trees and was passionate about anti-violence initiatives.  Imagining himself coolly ordering murders and trafficking drugs was a bit of a stretch, to put it mildly.

At least he was in charge.  That made him feel good.  Namjoon was always the slightest bit anxious about calling the shots when he had to and he secretly preened a bit when people told him he was good at it.

Jimin, on the other hand, always seemed to be a prostitute in these things.  Or, at the very least, some kind of sex companion.

That was just as bizarre to Namjoon.  Jimin was one of the least jaded people he knew but here he was all cold beauty and cynicism.  A pretty far cry from the man who was happiest when he made other people smile.

There were also a lot of detailed, lurid descriptions of Jimin in lace and silk lingerie.  Which, uh, was definitely not something Namjoon had pictured before.  But now he couldn’t get the idea out of his head.

Stockings.  Christ.  Stockings.

“What’re you reading, hyung?”

Namjoon almost dropped his phone on the floor.

“Jesus, you scared me.”

“Sorry,” Jimin whispered apologetically, coming around to crouch next to Namjoon’s seat.  “I didn’t mean to startle you.  We’re just the only ones awake and I was getting bored.”

Namjoon pushed the idea of stockings out of his head and looked at the person next to him.  Jimin was wearing his usual long-distance flight get-up, a rumpled pair of sweatpants and a hoodie with the hood currently pulled up.

“Shouldn’t you be trying to get some sleep?”

“Shouldn’t you?”  Jimin countered.

Namjoon sighed.  “Fair.”

“Come on,” Jimin gestured with his head.  “Let’s go to the back and watch a movie or play cards or something.  You need to take a break from work, anyway.”

Work.  Namjoon was more than happy not to correct him.

“I could do a movie,” Namjoon gave in.

Namjoon followed Jimin, doing his best not to wake anyone up, with a brief pause so that Jimin could adjust Taehyung’s blanket, covering up his feet.

“His feet get cold,” Jimin shrugged.

Ten minutes later, they were stretched out on the small, flat bed tucked into the section behind the main cabin.

“Does it still feel weird to you to fly in private planes?”  He asked while Jimin pulled up a movie on his laptop.

“Yeah, it’s still surreal sometimes.  But I’m not complaining.”

“I dunno,” Namjoon frowned.  “Flying is so bad for the environment…” Trees, Namjoon thought, with an inward sigh.  I am definitely a guy who thinks about trees.

“We can look for a way to off-set our carbon footprint.  I know for a fact there are things we can donate to.”  Jimin easily countered Namjoon’s worry before he could think too much.

“Okay.”  Namjoon put in his ear buds and tried to concentrate on the screen.  He was wondering idly about Jimin’s type, though.  Maybe real Namjoon was a bit too boring and a bit of a buzz kill.  Gangster Namjoon was handsome, powerful, and decisive.  

Stockings, Namjoon thought, as he drifted off, something clicking in his head.  It’s the personality equivalent of stockings.

*     *     *

Some time later Namjoon woke up and realized he was alone on the little airplane bed.  Jimin was gone and someone had covered him with a blanket while he slept.

The blanket was carefully tucked around his feet.

*     *     *

“I did it for you,” Namjoon said smoothly, pouring two glasses of bourbon.

Jimin folded his arms over his chest, maintaining his distance on the other side of the room.

“And I never asked you to kill him.  Do you know what you did to Jungkook?  Do you know what he’s going through?”

Namjoon put his phone down.  His stomach was in knots.  How could he have ordered Jungkook to kill someone?  Poor, sweet, doe-eyed Jungkook.

Then again, Namjoon told himself, it’s what he signed up for.

Terrifyingly, when he picked up the phone, fictional Namjoon thought the same thing.

“It was bound to happen sometime,” Namjoon said cooly, dropping an ice cube into each glass.  “He knew what he was getting into.”  He crossed the room and handed Jimin a glass.

“That doesn’t matter,” Jimin countered.  “You’re his boss and you know what he’s like.”  Jimin put the glass on the end table next to him.  “And I take my whiskey neat.”

Namjoon, Namjoon silently pleaded with himself.  He’s just acting tough.  He’s a marshmallow on the inside.  Hell, you’re a marshmallow.  Just, like, drop the tough guy attitude in private and be marshmallows together, okay?

Namjoon took a long drink of his own whiskey and set his glass down next to Jimin’s, the heavy glass making a thump on the table.

“When are you going to understand just how much I care about you?”  Namjoon’s hands went to Jimin’s waist pulling him close and the sheer fabric of his robe was soft under his fingers.

Lingerie, Namjoon thought involuntarily.  Fucking lingerie.

“And when are you going to understand I don’t need protecting.”  Jimin’s face was so close to Namjoon’s and his breath was warm on his lips.  Namjoon’s hands tightened around Jimin’s waist as he crushed their mouths together and Jimin’s hands tangled in his hair pulling him even closer.

On the other hand, Namjoon thought, his face starting to get a little hot as he kept reading and the fictional versions of them tumbled toward the couch.  Maybe there’s something to not being a marshmallow.

*     *     *

It was late and after a show the next time Namjoon thought about the story.  They were waiting just inside the back of the venue for the handful of black SUVs with tinted windows that would take them back to their hotel.  The adrenaline of performing was finally working its way out of their bodies and the more ordinary bone tiredness of everything they’d done was settling in.  

Then Hoseok got a video call and his face erupted into sunshine again.

“Hey, hey!”  He smiled at the image.

“Hey, how was the show?”  A woman’s voice drifted out of the phone.

“We’re just leaving now.  Can I call you back in half an hour?”

“Sure,” she laughed, half a world away.  “I won’t be at work yet.”

She was a producer at another label and Hoseok had been seeing her for a few months now.  As far as Namjoon could tell, their relationship consisted mostly of missed video chats and messages that involved long strings of emojis.

Hoseok was happy, though.

The cars came and Namjoon wound up in the same one as Jimin and Yoongi.

Namjoon glanced over at Jimin who was mindlessly staring out the window.

When are you going to realize how much I care about you?  Namjoon heard the confident voice of the fictional him in his mind.

“Do either of you have a type?”

“What?”  Yoongi laughed from the backseat.  “Are we in an interview now?”

“No, seriously,” Namjoon said.  “I don’t mean like the fan magazine ‘what’s your ideal type.’  I was just looking at Hoseok and it struck me that he probably has a type.”

“Oh yeah?”  Jimin raised his eyebrows.

“Cheerful,” Namjoon said simply.

“Or Yoongi,” Jimin teased.

“Hey,” Yoongi protested.  “I’m a goddamn bucket of rainbows back here.”

All three of them burst into laughter.

“I don’t think I have a type,” Yoongi said, once they’d quieted down.  “Smart, I guess?  I’m not sure what else.”  He thought for a moment drumming his fingers on the back of Namjoon’s seat.  “Has to like music.  That one should be a given, though.  Jimin?”

“I’ve got a type,” he grinned.

“Yeah?”  Namjoon tried to sound casual and not too interested.

“Yeah.  Definitely.  Someone who likes to think.  Someone who appreciates the little things and likes nature.  Someone who will laugh with me and put up with me when I’m drunk.  Observant.  Kind.  Likes to read.  Like that.”

Namjoon felt like butterflies were about to explode out of his stomach.

“Not, too tall, though,” Jimin said contemplatively.  “I get intimidated by tall people.  I don’t want to stand on my toes to kiss anyone.”

The butterflies promptly stopped fluttering and sunk like so much lead.

“What about you?”  

“Oh,” Namjoon shook his head.  “I’m trying to figure that out.  That’s why I asked.”  He paused and noticed Yoongi was giving him a look like he didn’t quite believe him. “Someone who cares about people, I guess.  Someone fun with a lot of energy.”  He playfully smiled at Jimin.  “I don’t care about height, though.  I  don’t discriminate.”

“You only say that because you’re taller than everyone.  When you come home with someone several inches taller than you then I’ll believe it.”

“Quick,” Yoongi said, laying his head back on his seat and pulling his cap over his eyes, “someone set Namjoon up with someone from the NBA so we never have to have this conversation again.”

Chapter Text

Everyone had an inkling Jimin wasn’t straight long before he said anything.  He was an artsy teen who loved dance and felt comfortable in neon leggings and talked just a little bit too lovingly about male singers he admired.

It wasn’t that any of those things meant anything in and of themselves.  And Jimin put up a good front.  He’d had a girlfriend all through the end of middle school and he never hesitated when interviewers asked what his ideal girl was like.  Still, things were a little off.  Not taller than me, he’d say when asked about girls, as though he sat around daydreaming about height requirements.  I just really look up to him, he’d say when his eyes would glitter just a little too much.

It wasn’t until after it had already started to happen that Namjoon realized how much he loved watching Jimin grow into himself.  And it wasn’t just Jimin accepting himself or quietly asking the people he loved do the same, it was everything that came after.  It was like watching him find a space that fit around him and the whole world opened up in front of him in response.  As though being himself was the key to a room full of wonders.

He glowed.  He sparkled.

“Hurry up and be me soon.  You’ll learn and realize so many things,” he said to his younger self in an interview.

And while he watched it happen, Namjoon was impressed.  Namjoon admired him.  Namjoon only adored him more and more.

*     *     *

“Remember that night we got drunk and read those fan stories?”

They were in the middle of another down time and Namjoon and Jimin were wrapping up an evening of working together in Namjoon’s room.

“Yeah…?”  Namjoon replied cautiously.  “What about it?”

“I dunno.  It was just fun.  We should do it again.”  Jimin’s eyes lit up as he slid his sandals on.  “Oh my god, we should try and figure out that weird porn-y werewolf stuff.  That would be hilarious.”

Namjoon wracked his brain for what the response to that should be and wondered if he should tip his hand and admit just how much he’d read since then.

“Or not,” Jimin rushed to fill the silence.  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“No, no!”  Namjoon rushed back.  “I was just trying to figure out the right way to say that drinking and reading weird porn about ourselves would be a fun, platonic time,” he said sarcastically.

There was another beat and then Jimin cracked up.

“Okay, totally fair point.”  He grinned at Namjoon and opened the door to go.  “Goodnight, hyung.”

“‘Night.  Get some sleep.”

*     *     *

Namjoon had been either the second or fifth person Jimin talked to, depending on how you counted.  He was the second person in Bangtan, after Taehyung, of course.  He was the fifth person if you went overall and counted Jimin’s parents, his brother, and a friend back home.

They’d been sitting on a park bench drinking iced coffee and Jimin had suddenly gotten a little uncomfortable and started tapping his fingers on the bench while he looked down.

“Um, hyung?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you remember that song you worked on for the girl group?”

“Yeah?”  Namjoon looked at him a bit confused about why Jimin was suddenly acting so withdrawn. 

“Um…”  Jimin tapped his fingers on the bench a few more times and bit his lip.  “You know that part about Juliet and Romeo?”

“Yeah?”  A gear turned in Namjoon's head and before Jimin said anything else, it clicked into place that this was the moment where he was going to put that vague, unremarked thing into words.

“I think for me… it’s more Romeo.”  Jimin looked up at Namjoon then.  “Is that okay?”

“Sure, it’s okay.”  Namjoon shrugged.  Then leaned back and took another long drink of his iced coffee.

Jimin was still looking at him like he expected something else but Namjoon wasn’t sure what else there was to say.

“We’re still friends, right?”  The question was cautious, more asking for reassurance than anything.

Namjoon snorted.

“Wow, you must think I secretly suck if you have to ask that.”

“I don’t!  I…” Jimin fumbled again.

Namjoon picked up Jimin’s iced coffee and held it out to him.  When he took it, Namjoon kicked his foot.

“If I said it’s okay, it’s okay.  So don’t worry about it.”

Jimin let out a small laugh.  “Okay.”

“Besides,” Namjoon said, staring out into the distance, contemplatively.  “It’s not like we have time to date, anyway.  At this point it’s just more like what flavor of porn you watch.”

He could see Jimin wrinkle his nose out of the corner of his eye.

“God, you’re gross."

“What!  It’s not like it’s just me...” Namjoon protested.

“Shut-up,” Jimin cut him off, bumping him with his shoulder.

“You shut up,” Namjoon bumped him back.

There was a beat and then they both burst out laughing.

They were barely more than kids, after all.

And it was.  It was okay.

*     *     *

After he was sure Jimin wasn’t coming back for the evening, Namjoon pulled out his phone and put the letters “ABO” in the search bar.  He hadn’t wanted to admit to Jimin that he’d picked up what the weird porn-y werewolf stuff was called.  

But seriously, what the ever-loving fuck was up with all that.  Other than that it was bizarre sex stuff that had sent him skittering in the opposite direction.  

Eventually, Namjoon landed on a New York Times article that had to explain it in broad terms in order to talk about some kind of larger legal battle that was going on.  Once he started getting into arguments about American copyright law he bailed but he still got a basic explanation that didn’t completely terrify him.

Namjoon went back to the website with all the stories.

He held his phone in both hands and stared at it blindly.

I’m totally just curious, he told himself.  It’s a strange fictional world and I’m a curious person.

In a slightly more uncomfortable part of himself, though, he knew that wasn’t entirely true.

He’d really liked thinking about the descriptions of Jimin in lingerie.  

It probably wasn’t okay to think about your friends like that.

But there wasn’t any harm in thinking, right?  It’s not like he was saying any of this out loud.

It was fine.

Namjoon went to the search parameters and quietly clicked the box above the “Mature” that said “Explicit.”

Most of this stuff was pretty dirty, anyway.  And if he wanted to figure out what was going on, he was going to have to expand his search.  

For curiosity’s sake.

*     *     *

A week later, Namjoon was pretty sure he had a new kink.

Okay, there were a lot of things that were pretty off-putting.  One fic had him imagining Yoongi pregnant and he was pretty sure that image was going to be making him shudder for the rest of his life.  

There were also things about “packs” (definitely werewolf shit, he muttered to himself) that sometimes had him clicking the back button at lightning speed.  Sometimes it was cute.  A nice little metaphor for the way that all or some of them were a close little unit.  Other times… well, just because he was guiltily reading about sex with one of his friends, didn’t mean he wanted to read about having sex with every member of Bangtan.

Jesus Christ.  Just no.

But the whole desperation to have sex thing was fun.  And he could see the power dynamics thing.

It was sort of like falling down one of those pornography rabbit holes where five minutes later you realized what you were jacking off to and wondered what the hell was wrong with you.

Except the rabbit hole just sort of went on and on.

Well and he was still reading about himself.  He wasn’t entirely sure if that just meant everything was personalized or if it just made the whole kinky thing even fucking weirder.

*     *     *

Namjoon’s assessment of his own sexuality had gone like this:

He’s spent most of his teen years insisting that he was open-minded and actively supportive.  It made him feel a little righteously rebellious, honestly.  Like it was just one more way he could stand up to the injustices of society.  In a kind of backwards way, it made him feel cool.

As he grew up and started reading about gender in a more serious way, his perspective shifted slightly.  Sexuality was fluid, after all.  It was kind of dumb to pretend that humans were locked into these categories when things were going to be a bit more complicated than that.

He felt a little enlightened.  He liked that.

It wasn’t until he got too drunk one night and tried to kiss one of his best friends that he finally looked in the mirror and admitted to himself that he liked both girls and boys and it was time to grow up and just fucking acknowledge it.

(To his enormous relief, Jackson never made a big deal about it, even if he did jokingly say, “you know, I almost went with it.”)

So that was his inglorious evolution.

*     *     *

Another thing that Namjoon had started to like about the weird-werewolf-gender-fic was the way they described Jimin.  The ice-cold-beautiful Jimin in the gangster fics was fun to think about but it didn’t really capture what made Jimin attractive.

Namjoon’s favorite adjective for Jimin was usually cute, followed sometimes by sexy, depending on the situation.  And it wasn’t that he was particularly feminine, although he could be.  It was more that he was an extremely pretty and sometimes delicate man.

Pretty was a better word than handsome, Namjoon thought, even though sometimes he used that word, too.

The bizarre three gender system seemed like it made a better space to describe him.  (Six genders?  Namjoon wondered.  The stories almost never touched on how it all worked for women and that made Namjoon unreasonably annoyed to the point where he caught himself outlining his own system one night as he drifted off to sleep.)

So maybe it was inevitable that Namjoon would make one of the most embarrassing slips of his life.  (Although maybe it wasn’t inevitable, Namjoon thought bitterly.  If he’d only gotten a bit more sleep.  If he’d only read one less story.  If he’d only shut his damn mouth.)

They were preparing for a magazine shoot and Namjoon took the opportunity to get under Jimin’s skin for fun.

“Hey, Jin, you look really good,” Namjoon complimented him.  In response, Seokjin looked down at his partially sheer shirt and started laughing, while he tugged the sports jacket they’d given him tighter around his chest.  “I mean it,” Namjoon went on, “they did a really good job.”

Namjoon felt a predictable tap on his shoulder.

“What about me, hyung?”  Jimin crossed his arms over an equally sheer shirt and pouted at Namjoon from underneath dusky eye makeup and perfectly styled hair.  “I’m handsome, too.”

“The prettiest omega,” Namjoon grinned at him.

A second too late what he’d just said sunk into his thick skull. 

“What does that mean?”  Jimin sounded offended.  “I’m in last place in Bangtan or something?”

“No, no,” Namjoon rushed.  “I’ve been reading this dumb sci-fi series and it’s this weird term of endearment,” Namjoon lied.  “It just sort of came out.”

“Hyung,” Jimin put a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder.  “You need to get out of your hotel room more.”

Namjoon thought he saw Jungkook looking at him out of the corner of his eye.

He really hoped it was his imagination.

*     *     *

Jimin was the first person Namjoon talked to after the Jackson incident, even though he didn’t tell him what had been the straw that broke the personally reflective camel’s back.

He’d been Jimin about it.  He’d listened.  He’d been kind.  One or twice he’d made Namjoon laugh.

“Can I tell you something?”  Namjoon asked, idly fiddling with one of the Ryan plushies in his room while they sat across from each other on his bed.

“Go for it.”

“It's dumb.”

“Trust me, nothing you could say right now will sound dumb to me.”

It wasn’t just dumb, though, Namjoon thought to himself.  It was probably a little bit terrible.

“I just really liked thinking about myself as the straight guy who’s a good ally,” Namjoon admitted.  “I’m going to kind of miss that.”

A pause hung in the air and Jimin gently took the Ryan from him and put the doll in his own lap.  “I’m going to say something and please don’t take this the wrong way, okay?” 

“Okay.”

“I kinda already knew.”

“Was it that obvious?”  Namjoon’s eyebrows knit together.

“Only to people who really, really know you.”

Namjoon flopped onto his back and pressed his hands over his face.  “God, you must think I’m an asshole.”

“Namjoon,” Jimin said firmly, resting a hand on his arm.  “You are not an asshole.  You’re human.  This stuff is kind of different for everyone.”

Namjoon took his hands off his face and looked up at Jimin’s slightly worried face.

Namjoon couldn’t really explain why having this conversation had made him feel so scared.  Some part of him had thought Jimin might tell him it was insulting that he’d figured it out so late.  That he was a bad person.  That Jimin might even levelly look him in the eyes and just say, “no, you’re not” and Namjoon would live the rest of his life not belonging in any space, this strange limbo of a person who didn't really fit on either side.

Jimin put the plushy to the side and held out his arms.  “Come here.”

Namjoon sat up and gave him a perfunctory hug.  But when he moved to get out of it, Jimin just held him tighter.

“Not yet.”

“Okay,” Namjoon said quietly, wrapping his arms around Jimin again.

Jimin rested his cheek on Namjoon’s shoulder and spoke softly into his ear. 

“You’re okay,” he said.  “I promise, Joon.  You’re okay.”

Namjoon was overwhelmed with affection and relief.

Tears slipped down his cheeks.  

Jimin held him while he cried.

*     *     *

Underneath all the kinky pornography, Namjoon started to pick out other, unspoken, themes behind the stories.

Sometimes he saw people trying to navigate their way through queerness or feelings about gender, without ever explicitly talking about it.  Sometimes there was something sweet and fragile behind the curtain.

One night Namjoon landed on a story where he and Jimin were both alphas.  The consequences of that kind of pairing were strange and a little surreal, tension and aggression that didn’t exist in the real Namjoon and Jimin.  But there was a quiet plea built into the plot as they navigated their relationship in a world where some things seemed set in stone.  A world where Jimin was gentle and kind, even though everything seemed to tell him that wasn’t what an alpha was supposed to be.  

That night Namjoon was laying in bed, reading on his laptop.  When he finished the story, he closed the computer and hugged it to his chest.

His heart went out to the young author while he stared at the ceiling. 

I hope you’re okay, he thought.  I hope you found your way.

Chapter Text

Namjoon wasn’t sure what to call what he was reading now.  That should have been a bad sign but Namjoon had missed the chance to care about that a while ago now.  

He was currently up to his nose in supernatural and fantasy tropes.  Witches, vampires, demons, sea creatures… anything magic and strange, really.  

At this point, if he was being honest, he just wanted a break from reality.  They were nearing the end of the current leg of their tour and the sparkling promise of the few performances left were the only thing keeping him from succumbing to homesickness and exhaustion.

One night he’d almost asked his mom to put his bonsai on facetime and realized he needed to find a way to take a break.

So he was back to reading about himself and Jimin again.  It was hard to focus on reading anything difficult right now but for some reason this was like eating candy, easy and addictive.

By now he’d learned to expect strange things and when to press the back button on the browser without a shred of guilt.  (Tentacles, eggs, magical dubious consent.)  He’d also learned that one good story could mean turning around on things you thought were horrifying.  (Tentacles… sometimes.)

The stories were fun.  They were usually light and the ones he picked generally had a sense of humor.

And they were a good distraction because as long as he was thinking about fictional Jimin he could avoid thinking about real Jimin.

*     *     *

“Did you still want to go on that bike ride?”  Jimin gracelessly landed on the couch next to Namjoon, so in his bubble he was practically on top of him.  They were killing time before a photo shoot, waiting for their turn with hair and make-up.  Namjoon put his phone down just a little too quickly.

“Of course I do.  It’s going to be our last day off before we wrap up the tour.”

“Just checking.”  Jimin reached over Namjoon’s lap for his phone.  “What were you reading?”

“Porn,” Namjoon said nonchalantly, holding the phone at arm’s length where he knew Jimin wouldn’t be able to reach it.

“Liar,” Jimin pinched him in the side and tried grab at it.  

“You want me to read it out loud?”  Namjoon elbowed him back out of his space with a deep laugh.

“Some of us don't want public porn readings,” Taehyung looked up from his own phone and looked at them both levelly.  “Besides it’s way too early for that.”

“What?”  Jimin teased back.  “Is there a time of day for that?”

“After everyone else has gone to bed,” Taehyung smiled.

Jimin laughed.

Namjoon surreptitiously pulled up a different page on his phone.

*     *     *

One common trope in the whole fantasy mess was that he and Jimin were never the same sort of thing.  They were always mismatched.  A demon and a witch.  A man and a monster.  A vampire and a hunter.  There was never a nice story about two mermen settling down peacefully and having merbabies.  (Namjoon thought that was a lovely idea and almost started writing it just to make himself happy... until he had to think about where merbabies came from.  At which point he actually said out loud, “Aw fuck.  Eggs.” slammed his laptop shut, and turned on the TV.) 

The next night, though, Namjoon landed on a story he liked where Jimin was a fairy.  Not just a fairy like his nickname, not Mr. Fairy on the wall of the Magic Shop but a fairy-fairy.  A colorful, fae thing with wings.

Namjoon could see something of real Jimin in Fairy Jimin.  Mischievous without being mean.  Contemplative and observant when it was least expected.  Occasionally surprisingly naive.  Occasionally surprisingly not.

Of course they fell in love.  (They always fell in love.)  Namjoon in this story was a man who lived on the edge of the woods and liked plants.  (Real Namjoon approved of fictional Namjoon.  His life was like a pleasant day dream, worn out as Namjoon was.)

But fairy folk and mortals were not meant to be.   

Still.  Sometimes magic finds a way.

“But maybe…” the fairy looked up at him, his eyes large and hopeful.  “Maybe if you made a wish, it could come true.”

“A wish?”  Namjoon blinked, not quite following.

Jimin nodded.

“Sometimes… when a human has been very kind… sometimes the fairy folk…”

“They grant a wish,” Namjoon finished softly, his lips turned up a little as he finally caught on.

A soft wind blew through the garden and the lilacs rustled ever so gently, their sweet scent carried along by the breeze.  Jimin’s hair floated around his face, the same color as the flowers, and the purse of his lips was sweeter still.

“Then I wish...” Namjoon said, his voice growing more confident as he spoke.  He reached out and cupped Jimin’s cheek, the silky softness of his hair brushing against Namjoon’s fingers.  “I wish for you.”

*     *     *

It was a little too hot and humid that afternoon, so they broke off the bike ride sooner than they probably would have otherwise and headed to sit under the shade of a line of trees tree on the side of the hill in the park.

A gust of wind came up while they situated themselves and pieces of freshly mowed grass stuck to Namjoon’s calves, making them itch.    

If it bothered Jimin he didn’t show it.  

“Oh thank god,” Jimin’s back landed flat on the ground, his limbs radiating out in a starfish formation.  “This was the worst idea.”

“I don’t know,” Namjoon stretched out lazily and lay back with his own hands folded over his chest.  “I’m not complaining.”

“That’s only because you’re bad at knowing when you’re supposed to.”

Jimin turned to look at him, closing one eye against the sun.  Bits of grass stuck out from his already sweaty hair, which was sticking to his forehead in thick strands.  

Whatever the opposite of ethereal was, that was how Jimin looked now. 

Messy.  Earthy.

Namjoon reached over, pressed on Jimin’s nose with the tip of his finger and smiled.

“Did you just boop me?”  Jimin giggled, slapping Namjoon’s hand away.

“We’ve been over this,” Namjoon settled back and grinned up at the leaves.  “You have a very boopable nose.”

“My nose is cute,” Jimin countered putting his own hands behind his head and gazing up at the sky.

“And boopable.”

“Actually,” Jimin went on, “I think it’s handsome.  It’s definitely a handsome nose.”

“Do I still get to boop handsome noses?”

“That’s it.  I’m taking a nap.”  Namjoon could hear some quietly rustling next to him as Jiimin settled into the grass.  “Wake me up when you want to brave the heat again and get the bikes back.”

Namjoon laughed lightly in response.

Whether Jimin fell asleep or not, he wasn’t sure.  Namjoon didn’t look over and check.  Instead he let a comfortable silence fall over them, while he watched the patterns made by the sunlight between the shifting leaves and listened to them rustle in the breeze.

This was one of the things Namjoon loved about spending time Jimin, something they’d picked up on in their relationship early on.  They were both thoughtful people.  They were okay with quiet.  They were good at existing in it together.

A lot of people might not know this, but we have very similar personalities.  We think a lot when we’re alone and we have similar thoughts.  Namjoon had said once at a press conference.  Despite having the biggest difference in our heights, our thoughts and feelings are similar.  Namjoon had added and Jimin had gone from winking agreement to bursting into laughter.  

Namjoon smiled thinking about it.

He thought about the poor merfolk and demons he’d been reading about and the smile slid off his face.  

It didn't really matter if they looked mismatched.  Height difference or any other kind of difference they were similar people underneath.

Namjoon closed his eyes and forced himself to admit to himself the conclusion he should have come to weeks ago.

There had been no meet-cute and no moment of immediate, desperate attraction.  It had taken someone putting it right in front of his face for Namjoon to see it because it was just the shape they’d grown into together.  It was the precise dimensions created by commonality, affection, and trust.

Part of Namjoon wondered if it was only natural.  Stuffed together like they were, with claustrophobic social lives because of fame.  Maybe someone was bound to develop an attraction to someone.

The rest of Namjoon knew that wasn’t it.  It wasn’t claustrophobia.  And it wasn’t like being stuffed together in a closet at a party.  

It was more like bonsai.  The acorn was always going to grow into a tree but limitations shaped it a certain way. 

You wouldn’t realize it was an oak until you really looked at it.  But that didn't mean it wasn't one.

Namjoon slowly opened his eyes again and watched the sway of the branches and the leaves.

If I could wish for something, he thought.  I would wish…

He looked over at Jimin.  Namjoon could tell from his parted lips and the rise and fall of his chest that he really had nodded off in the afternoon heat, so he let his gaze linger.

I wish I knew what you would do if I kissed you.

Chapter Text

Namjoon had feelings.  He was a grown man, he could admit it.  He had feelings for Jimin. There was an oak tree in his chest.

That didn’t, however, mean he was ready to do anything about it.  Or if he was even sure if he should do anything about it.

What if Jimin didn’t feel the same way?  What if Namjoon ruined one of his closest friendships?  What if the resulting fall-out caused tension for all of them?  Oh god, if Jimin got upset Taehyung would probably stop talking to him immediately.  Jungkook would feel torn but ultimately, he’d probably end up more on Jimin’s side.  Namjoon could probably count on Seokjin to feel sorry for him…

It was a mess.  So Namjoon was doing his best not to think about it too much.  Instead, he was just trying to enjoy his feelings.  He let himself slide into that sweet giggly phase of a crush that was just letting your mind wander and thinking about how much you like the other person.

He’d moved past reading anything pornographic.  He felt too soft for that.

Instead he was drifting on other people’s daydreams.  Simple stories.  The two of them living together.  Comforting each other after a long day.  Getting a cat.  

Namjoon was more of a dog person but Jimin liked both.  Namjoon was generally an animal person, though.  He could see them getting a cat. 

*     *     *

They were home for now, which meant it was only easier to fall into domestic daydreams.  Namjoon would see Jimin standing in their kitchen in the morning, only half awake and in pajama pants.  It was something Namjoon had seen a hundred thousand times before but now he couldn’t help imagining it was slightly different.

In his mind he pictured himself and Jimin falling asleep together.  Namjoon would wake up first so he’d already be in the kitchen when Jimin got up.  While Jimin was getting breakfast, Namjoon would come up from behind, put his hands on Jimin’s waist and kiss his still sleep-warm neck.  Jimin would probably nudge him to get off but he’d giggle.

In real life, Jimin sat down at the far end of their dining room table with barely a word and started eating breakfast, completely engrossed in whatever he was reading on his phone.

There was no reason in reality why it should sting.  But it still did.

*     *     *

In some of the fics there were also kids around.  Usually one or the other one had a child and some kind of single-father romance would ensue.

The fics rarely discussed what had happened to the mothers and a lot of time the math on the children’s ages made Namjoon uncomfortable, as though they’d been rushing to have a baby as soon as they were out of their teens.

All that aside, though, Namjoon had always liked the idea of being a dad.  His own little family had been happy and warm growing up and he liked the idea of recreating that but in his own way.  He liked kids.  He liked the idea of his own kids and watching them grow up.

Jimin liked kids, too.  Which wasn’t to say that Namjoon was planning weddings or picking out baby names in his mind but he liked that they both had a domestic streak.  That they were hypothetically a good pair.  It was just one more reason to feel warm and fond.

*     *     *

Jimin was on the couch reading.  He was laying on his side with one leg thrown over the back like he wanted to remind everyone that years of dance meant he was missing the gene that said, “ouch, stop doing that.”

Sometimes Jimin’s exacting standards meant he could look startlingly perfect, Namjoon knew.  Every strand of hair, grain of eye shadow, and tuck of his shirt precisely in place.

Sometimes, though, he could be anything but.  His bleached and dyed hair would frizzle and awkwardly stick out from his head, he’d get blemishes on his cheeks no matter how many purifying masks he used, and he could go all day without putting on something that wasn’t ratty or stained, if he didn’t have anywhere to be except the couch.

Namjoon sat down on the other end of the couch with a smile and his own book.

This Jimin was cute, too.  A different cute, a homey cute.  And even though they’d lived together for years, it hit Namjoon that he was lucky to see this.  A Jimin that wasn’t for public consumption.

“Will it bug you if I sit here?”

Jimin looked up from his book and shrugged.  Then he turned around on his back so that he was laying the other way with his head on Namjoon’s thigh.

“So… I take it, that's okay then?”

Jimin reached back and lazily smacked at his thigh.  “Shh.  Pillows don’t talk.”

“Okay,” Namjoon laughed.  He imagined leaning back with Jimin between his legs and his head on Namjoon’s chest, as they both stretched out on the couch.  Jimin’s hair would probably smell good.  The weight of his body would be comforting and solid.

“You okay?”

“Huh?”

Jimin was looking at him quizzically.  “You’ve just been staring off into space for a while.”

“Oh, uh.  Just distracted.”  Namjoon buried his face in his book, hoping Jimin wouldn’t notice him blushing behind the pages.

*     *     *

“Come to beeeeed,” Jimin pulled on his arm playfully.

“You’re drunk,” Namjoon laughed, pressing a finger to the tip of Jimin’s nose.  Jimin scrunched his nose cutely in response.

“Just a little, I missed you,” he pouted.

“I missed you, too.  I’m sorry I had to work late.”  Namjoon felt something soft and vibrating push against his calves.

Jimin knelt down and scooped up the cat.  

All things considered, Calico was remarkably calm as Jimin thrust her at Namjoon’s face, gesturing with a cat paw.

“I missed you, too,” the adorably cartoonish Jimin-as-Calico voice said.

“Whatcha reading?”

Namjoon was sitting on the roof of their apartment building, nursing a beer.  There were a number of deck chairs around in between boxes of carefully tended plants.  It was a comfortable place to wind up late on a weekend afternoon.

“Domestic fluff.”  Namjoon said absently.

“This stuff is super addictive, isn’t it?”

Just a beat too late, Namjoon’s brain registered the situation:

1. He’d just said what he said
2. The person asking was Jungkook
3. Jungkook was leaning over the back of the loveseat Namjoon was sitting on and, at the very least, he could see what website Namjoon was on

Namjoon was, as they say, busted.

“I just got curious, so I decided to look at it again,” Namjoon tried to brush it off putting his phone down.

“I call BS,” Jungkook laughed, coming around to sit in a chair, putting his feet on the coffee table between them.  “You called Jimin an omega a while ago, so I know you’re that deep.”

“How much of this stuff do you actually read?”  Namjoon raised his eyebrows at Jungkook and picked up his beer.  

“I read stuff from a bunch of different fandoms.  So a lot.”  Jungkook waved his feet back and forth while he talked.  “Mostly Star Wars and Avengers, tho.  What were you reading?”

Embarrassed, Namjoon took a drink.  He could have had a cover story as simple as, “oh I was reading about Iron Man.”  But he’d never even thought of looking for stories from other things he read or watched.

“You were reading about us, weren’t you?”

Namjoon stayed silent, praying the conversation would end.

“Wait, were you reading about you and Jimin?”

Namjoon stayed silent again.

Jungkook put his hands over his mouth and squealed.

“Oh my gosh!  You were reading fluff about you and Jimin!  That is so cute!  He’s going to die when I tell him that.  Cute, cute, cute. ”

“Please don’t tell Jimin!”  Namjoon caught himself lunging forward on instinct.  “Please, please don’t tell Jimin.”

“Okay,” Jungkook shrugged but he looked a little lost.  “I’m sure he’d think it was cute, though.”

“Just…”  A question occurred to Namjoon that he probably should have asked weeks ago.  “Koo, why did you send all those fics to Jimin when we were on tour?”

“I thought you guys would think they’re funny.  You know, since you guys have your thing.”

“Our thing?”  Namjoon’s eyebrows knit together in honest confusion.

“Whatever you call it,” Jungkook said, obviously starting to get a little exasperated.  “You guys never talked about it.  At least not to me.”

Namjoon picked up his beer again and took a very, very long drink. 

“Jungkook…”  Namjoon asked cautiously and more than a little confused.  “Why do you think we have a thing?”

“What do you mean?”  Now it was Jungkook’s turn to look puzzled.

“I mean we don’t have a thing.”  Namjoon set the glass on the table and leaned forward again.   “ Why did you think we have a thing? ”

“ Because you act like you have a thing.”  Jungkook sounded defensive and the words hung in the air for a moment.  Then Jungkook held a hand out and started tapping his fingers, while he rattled off a list.  “You act all cute and handsy together.  You go on dates - or at least on bike rides and walks and stuff that look a lot like dates to me.   He always wants you to tell him he’s handsome and you do.  I mean, you’ll tell just about anyone in ear shot you think he’s hot.  He’s the only one who ever crashes in your hotel room…”  Jungkook trailed off once he finally looked up and caught Namjoon’s expression.

“Jimin acts cute with everyone...” Namjoon protested weakly.

“But you don’t,”  Jungkook countered, just as quietly.  

Namjoon sank back with a groan and covered his face with his hands.  This was too much.

“You really don’t have a thing?”  Jungkook asked softly, still sounding just a bit disbelieving.

Namjoon shook his head, still not moving his hands.

“Do you… wish you had a thing?”  Jungkook pushed gently.

“I don’t know.”  Namjoon let his hands fall into his lap.  “Maybe?  I just don’t know how that would work.”

“Can, um, I make an observation?  As someone who’s known you for a really long time?”

Namjoon looked at Jungkook.  Getting advice from Jungkook was a switch but Namjoon really wanted to know what he was going to say.  He nodded.

“Sometimes you make things in life a lot more complicated than they have to be.”

Namjoon sighed and rubbed his hands on his pants.  “Is it okay if you don’t tell anyone about this?  For now?”

“Of course.”  Jungkook brightened.  “I’ll make you a deal.  I won’t tell anyone about this if you don’t tell anyone my handle as a fic author.”  He held a hand out to Namjoon and Namjoon laughed and shook it.

Jungkook was already walking away when Namjoon finally thought through the second half.

“I don’t know your username,” Namjoon called out.  “I didn’t even know you wrote.”

Jungkook stopped and shrugged.  “Oh, yeah.”  Then he laughed and kept walking.

“Wait!” Namjoon called after him again  “What do you write?  It’s Star Wars and Avengers and stuff, right?  You don’t write about us, do you!?”

Jungkook waved as he opened the door, “see you, hyung!” he chirped.  And then just like that, he slipped back inside.

Chapter Text

Namjoon loved Jungkook.  He loved him in a way that he never could have expected when they’d first met and Jungkook was a nervous, awkward, skinny teenager.  (Namjoon had also been an awkward, skinny teenager but he wasn’t nervous and he was a few years older, so at the time, it’d felt like there were light years between them.)

Namjoon wasn’t unobservant, though, so he’d picked up pretty quickly that Jungkook had had a sort of adolescent crush that had quickly bloomed into full blown admiration.  Namjoon, meanwhile, had gone from blinking shock that the kid seemed to be good at everything he put his mind to, to understanding the wide-eyed excitement and fearless curiosity that existed underneath his quiet shyness.

In the end, Namjoon had more or less watched him grow up.  And he’d not only felt proud of everything Jungkook accomplished but genuinely liked the caring, talented, and slightly eccentric person he grew up to be.

Someday, far in the future, when Jungkook got married, Namjoon was sure he would probably cry more than anyone, except for Jungkook himself.  And Namjoon isn’t even a crier.  (Jungkook, on the other hand, once started sobbing watching a car commercial.  A car commercial that he was in and had spent several long hours filming.)

All of this was to say that this was the first time in his life Namjoon had looked at Jungkook and felt like shooting daggers out of his eyes.

He, Jungkook, and Jimin were watching a movie and every now and again, Namjoon would look over at him.  And then he would feel a hot feeling bubbling up in his stomach again and he would realize he was glaring at Jungkook.

Of course, this was all Namjoon’s fault.  

Namjoon knew there were stories about the seven of them in all kinds of configurations.

And for some reason, he’d finally decided to take a look.

And immediately felt irrationally angry.

Because apparently fandom wasn’t on Namjoon’s side.  

Of the three most common pairings, Jimin was in two.  Namjoon was in neither of those.  In fact, Namjoon was much, much further down the list.  There were roughly four times as many stories about Jimin and Jungkook and Jimin and Yoongi as there were about him and Jimin.

Namjoon had shut the computer in a huff.

From there it didn’t take long for annoyance to drain into insecurity.

Jungkook had said that Namjoon made things more complicated than they needed to be.  But simplifying was different from getting what you wanted, Namjoon knew.

And from the looks of things a lot, a lot of people thought that Jungkook or Yoongi would be a better match for Jimin.

And now Namjoon felt irrationally jealous of both of them.

Because, really, if beautiful, wonderful Jimin was going to get together with anyone of them, wouldn’t it be Jungkook who made him laugh and had even climbed a mountain just to bring back Jimin snow?  Or Yoongi who made a great foil for Jimin’s energy and was never shy about his own soft spot for Jimin?

Yoongi was even the right height, Namjoon thought bitterly, remembering their conversation in the back of the SUV.

Namjoon knew he was being childish but he figured part of being an adult who knew how to deal with their emotions was also knowing how to work around them a little, rather than tell yourself you shouldn’t feel them.  Because that never really worked, anyway. 

So he resolved to avoid both of them for a day while he got his head on straight.

Namjoon had been able to get out of working with Yoongi on a song that afternoon by making up some excuse and rescheduling.  Namjoon had managed to out and out avoid Jungkook until late that evening when Jimin had pressed him into watching a movie with the two of them.

Jimin said he looked down lately and it would be a good idea to get him out of his head for a bit.  Namjoon couldn’t really say no to that without possibly making Jimin worry even more so he’d reluctantly agreed.  

And now Namjoon was stuck in the half dark while Jimin and Jungkook kept making each other laugh with stupid jokes through the whole stupid movie.

Hence the glaring.

Eventually, though, the plot of the movie turned more serious and the laughter died down.  Jimin started to look a bit drowsy.  (Jimin almost always got sleepy during movies, Namjoon thought.  He rarely gave himself the time to get enough sleep.)  So he curled into Jungkook’s side and rested his head on his shoulder.

There wasn’t anything strange about that.  Jimin was cuddly and Jungkook had long been a favorite body pillow.  This time, though, that completely and totally irrational jealousy kicked Namjoon in the gut even harder.

Namjoon knew that every last part of what was happening in his head was mind-bogglingly stupid.

Which was why he needed to go back to his original plan of getting a little distance and getting it out of his system.

So he feigned an enormous yawn.

“I’m sorry guys, I’m passing out.  You should finish up but I need to go crash.”

Jimin’s eyes followed him out of the room.  They looked large and worried.

*     *     *

Namjoon had been in his room for all of two minutes when he heard a knock on his door.

“Yeah, come in.”  He called out absently while he dug around on his desk looking for his earbuds. 

A moment later an uncharacteristically nervous looking Jimin slipped in and stood with his back to the door, carefully shutting it behind him.

“Can I ask you something?”  He asked quietly.

Namjoon felt a heartbeat echo through his veins.  There was a real conversation looming on the horizon.

“Sure,” Namjoon tried to keep his voice casual as he gave up the search for his earbuds.  “What’s up?”

“Are you mad at me?”

“No.  No, no, no.”  Namjoon’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and he protested a little bit too loudly.  “Why would you even think that?”

Jimin nibbled on a plush lip and scuffed at the floor with his foot. 

He was always terrible at hiding his feelings, so he usually didn’t even try.

“You’ve just been acting weird around me for a while.  Off and on.  I asked Jungkook if he knew anything and he said I needed to talk to you.”  Jimin looked up at Namjoon now and there was a thoughtful v between his eyes.  “If I did something it’s fine.  Well, it’s not fine but if I did I want to try and fix it.  If that’s okay.”

The echoing heartbeat faded and felt like it was crumbling into dust down to the tips of Namjoon’s numb fingers.

Jimin wasn’t more than half a dozen feet away but the space between them stretched and yawned.  Filling it up, Namjoon saw fictional cats and children, lingerie and college house parties, he saw years of real life confessions and bike rides, the sound of Jimin’s laugh and his sleeping face on the pillow.

“I think I’m in love with you.”  

There was a beat and the weight of what Namjoon had just said settled between them, weighing everything else down.  

“Maybe,” he hedged weakly.

“What?”

Jimin wasn’t moving.  No shuffling.  No biting his lips.  Just staring.

“Um, the night you came over with the fan fiction.”  Namjoon put a hand on his desk chair and leaned a little awkwardly, wanting something, anything, solid right now.  “The last one, the really good one.  It made me start thinking.”

“Thinking?”

“Yeah, uh.  It’s a bonsai…”  Namjoon stopped himself and tried again.  “I started reading all these other stories afterward to kind of think about it some more and I just kept thinking about it and I guess it’s been there for a while it’s just…”

“It’s just what?”

“Just the shape of how we are together,” Namjoon said quietly.  “I’d never really looked at it before but once I did, I couldn’t see anything else.”

Jimin took a deep breath and held his hands out in front of him.

“Let me get this straight.  You read a whole bunch of fanfiction about the two of us and now you think maybe you’re in love with me.”

“No maybe.”  Namjoon said quietly, then took his own breath for courage.  “The maybe was a lie.”

Jimin was back to staring at him and for a brief moment Namjoon thought he might cry.

If you tell Jimin not to cry, he’ll start crying.  Namjoon had said in front of the cameras.  Jimin had started crying just from that and they’d laughed.

It wouldn’t be funny now.

“I need to think,” Jimin said finally.  “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” Namjoon nodded eagerly.  But then he couldn’t help following up with his own boyish, “are you mad at me?”

“No, I just…” Jimin laughed weakly.  “That was big and I need some time, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.  Of course.”

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”  Jimin’s voice had a hopeful lilt at the end.

“Yeah, sounds good.”

“Goodnight, hyung.”

“Goodnight.”

Jimin gently closed the door behind him.

Namjoon felt like his knees were going to give out so he knelt down and then just laid on the floor.

What the fuck had he just done.

His head lolled to the right with a sigh and he caught sight of something under his bed.

Well, at least he’d found his fucking earbuds.

Chapter Text

Namjoon didn’t sleep much that night.  He tried but mostly he dozed between tossing and turning his way through cycles of hope and anxiety.

He couldn’t believe he’d said what he'd said.  Whether it was jealousy or not wanting Jimin to be mad at him or just having stuffed the feeling down so long that the words had just flown out - whatever the reason, it had happened.

And now what?  Jimin hadn’t exactly jumped for joy.  Or even smiled.  He’d just frozen and then said he needed time.  What if things were never the same for them?  What if this spelled the end of openness and vulnerability and long dreamy conversations?  What if everything crumbled under the heaviness of Namjoon’s unwanted affection?

But thinking and time weren’t necessarily bad.  Namjoon shut his eyes and tried to think about all the times Jimin had angled for his attention and flattery.  About how Jimin smiled at him and tried to take care of him in tiny ways.  How he laughed at Namjoon’s jokes and liked to make Namjoon squeal and laugh at him.  

Namjoon dared himself to imagine a world where there was a step beyond that.  Where he didn’t just not mind sleeping next to Jimin but fell asleep holding him and listening to his soft breath.  Where Jimin wasn’t just beautiful but Namjoon got to tell him that, earnestly, whether he was dressed to perfection or tired and in disarray.  Where Jimin would kiss him afterward and look back at him with love in his eyes.

A world where Namjoon had everything he already had but also more.

He didn’t read a single story that night.

He didn’t care about fiction any more.  All he wanted was the real thing.

*     *     *

Namjoon found Jimin the next morning, sitting at the dining room table holding a cup of coffee between his hands and staring off into the middle distance. 

It was early.  Namjoon had finally given up on sleep after the fifth time of being woken by dreams so he’d given up and just gotten up.  He hadn’t expected anyone else to be awake.

“Can I sit here?”  Namjoon asked carefully, pulling out the chair across from Jimin.

Jimin looked up at him.  He looked exhausted, pale with dark circles under his eyes.

“Sure.”  He pressed his lips together.  “I guess we should talk now, huh?”

“Only if you want to,” Namjoon said gently.  It didn’t look like good news but Namjoon didn’t like him looking like this.  Whatever was easiest for Jimin was the best.

Jimin rubbed at his face and then shook his head.

“I don’t really but I didn’t sleep at all last night because I’ve been doing that thing?  You know, where you play out a conversation so many times and all the things you really want to say over and over again?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon gave him a half smile.  “Pretty sure I know exactly what you mean.

“Would it be okay if I just said it?”  Jimin cupped the coffee in both hands again and gave Namjoon a tired and earnest look.  “The whole monologue?  So I can feel like I got everything out?”

“Yeah, sure.”  Namjoon nodded.  

He couldn’t help but hold his breath.  He felt like he was about to be shot.

“I am just so mad at you.”

Namjoon’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach.  “I’m sor…”  

Jimin held up a hand.

“Shut up.  I don’t think I’ll get through this if you don’t shut up.”

Namjoon nodded, not wanting to potentially annoy Jimin with a verbal confirmation.

“Your timing sucks.”  Jimin looked at Namjoon seriously.  “It sucks so bad, you know that?  Like, so bad. ”  He looked at Namjoon like Namjoon might have some idea what he was talking about.  But he didn’t, so Jimin went on.  “I had the biggest thing for you for the longest time.”  The look on his face was stuck somewhere between hurt and exasperation.  “And you never even knew did you?”

Namjoon shook his head.  His heart was going wild now, not sure where to go, to pound with joy or break or fall back down to the very bottom of his stomach and sit there like a rock.

“I didn’t think so.”  Jimin let out a wet laugh.  “It felt like such a risky idea and you never acted like you picked up on it and I was so afraid of messing things up, I never said anything out loud.”  A tear rolled down his cheek.  “And then you had to go and get me that stupid fucking ring.  The one with my initials on it.”  He put a hand on his chest, more tears coming down now.  “And I had these hopes, just for a minute. I was so fucking happy because I thought just maybe something might happen.”  His voice dropped and he looked down again, rapping a knuckle on the edge of the table.  “But it didn’t.  You were just going a little over the top as a friend.”  He shook his head and Namjoon could see actual tear drops falling off his cheeks.

“I worked so hard and spent so long getting over it,” Jimin went on.  “I was this responsible adult and accepted our relationship for what it was.”  He looked Namjoon in the eyes.  His own were a little red around the edges now and his nose and lips were pink.  “And now you get drunk and read one story and you think you’re in love with me.  What the fuck am I supposed to do with that, Namjoon?”

Namjoon blinked, not sure if the question was rhetorical or not.

Even if it wasn’t, his mouth had gone dry and his head was swimming.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.  It was the only thing he could think of to say.

Jimin pulled his t-shirt up clumsily wiping off his face.

“That night you asked Yoongi about our types in the car.  I realized after that I’d basically described you and when I got back to my room, stuffed my face in a pillow and yelled because I was so embarrassed.”

“So… I’m not too tall, then?”  Namjoon ventured.

“Yeah, you are.”  A tired laugh came out of Jimin and he shook his head and pointed at Namjoon.  “You’re not allowed to make me laugh.  I’m really mad at you right now.”

“Sorry,” Namjoon said again.  But this time there was a hint of a smile.  There was a pause in conversation and Namjoon took this as an opportunity to jump in again.  “So what do you want to do?"  He asked carefully.

“I don’t know.”  Jimin held his head back, clearly trying to keep a few more tears escaping from his eyes.  “All I keep thinking about is what happens if you read some more stories and one of them is really good.  Are you going to fall for Jungkook next?”  He sniffed.  “Or Seokjin?  Or Jackson?”

“People don’t really ship me and Jackson,” Namjoon replied before he could stop himself.

Jimin looked at him incredulously.  Then he shook his head and stood up. 

“I’m going to bed,” he said levelly.  “I’m going to get some fucking sleep.”

“Okay.”  Namjoon watched him leave the room.  He felt like he’d been hit by a truck, tossed into the next lane, and hit again by a truck going in the opposite direction.  And somehow it was all his fault.

“I hope you get some rest,” he called after Jimin lamely.

*     *     *

Namjoon was laying on his bed again, this time just staring at the ceiling.  

At least it was the weekend.  If he was going to lay around on an unmade bed suffering from emotional paralysis, at least he didn’t have to be anywhere.

He was such an idiot.  He was such an idiot.

It wasn’t all his fault, he wasn’t going to beat himself up over it that much.  Jimin had never come out and said anything and frankly, that was on him. 

But at the same time… how could Namjoon have missed all of that?  And that ring?  Why did he have to buy Jimin that stupid ring?

Because Namjoon adored him and wanted Jimin to know it.

No wonder Jungkook thought they had a thing.  He was right.  They acted like they had a thing.

But now Namjoon had no idea what to do next.

He found himself wishing that he was the gangster-boss version of himself.  He would be decisive.  He would do something.  

Namjoon sat up.  He had an idea.

*     *     *

“Just a minute!”  The voice called from inside the room.  Namjoon stepped back and a moment later Jungkook was standing in the doorway, his perfectly neat, if slightly spare, room behind him.  “What’s up?”

Namjoon smiled at him.

“I need you to do my dirty work.”

*     *     *

The private room in the back of the club was too small.

Realistically, it was fine.  It was dim and tastefully decorated, with dark walls, candles, and white leather seats.  The music was quiet enough that talking wouldn’t be a problem.  And it was made to sit half a dozen people at least, so there was certainly more than enough space for one person.

But Namjoon wanted to pace and it was too small for that.

Namjoon was usually good at waiting.  He was patient by nature.  But right now it felt like nervous energy was threatening to burst out of his skin at any moment and the seconds only passed more and more slowly.

“You promise if I don’t feel like staying out I can go home, right?”  Jimin’s voice came through the other side of the door.

“I promise, I promise.”  The way Jungkook said it, it sounded like he’d said it a few times.  “I just wanted you to get out of the house.  Mission accomplished as far as I’m concerned.”

Namjoon was on his feet, fiddling nervously with a cuff when the door opened.

Jimin stared at him.

“Hi.”  Namjoon said somewhat dumbly.

Jungkook smiled and patted Jimin on the back.  “Okay, I did my duty.  Please don’t hate me for lying.”  He gave Namjoon an encouraging thumbs up before he slipped out the door.

“So, this is where you were,” Jimin glanced around the room.  “I looked for you at home.”

“Yeah, so…” Namjoon started to explain.  “I actually read more than one story.  I read a lot of stories.  I could even explain the werewolf stuff, if you wanted.”

“I think I’m good.  For now.”  Jimin crossed his arms and gave Namjoon a half smile.  “Jungkook tried to explain to me what an omega was and I think I’m pretty done with that conversation for awhile.”  

“Completely fair.”  Namjoon took a breath and plowed on.  “So, I read a lot of stories, because as stupid as it sounds, it helped me think.  And honestly, some of them were a lot of fun.  And most of the time there’s a romance and sometimes there’s a confession.”  Jimin was looking at him with eyes wide but he wasn’t interrupting so Namjoon went on.  “And sometimes, that confession doesn’t go very well.  But that’s pretty much never the end of the story.  There’s usually a twist.”

“A twist?”  Jimin echoed.

“Yeah, a twist,” Namjoon repeated.  He stuffed his hands in his pockets.  “So the twist is that I’m an asshole.”

“Oh?”

Namjoon gestured at a chair and Jimin sat down, not really taking his eyes off of Namjoon.  Namjoon sat down next to him and poured them both shots of soju.  Jimin threw his back without hesitation but Namjoon left his on the table for now.

“I didn’t mean to lead you on or ignore you or whatever it felt like.  I was just being dumb.”  Namjoon reached over to take one of Jimin’s hands and Jimin let him, letting Namjoon rub the back of his hand with his thumb.  “It’s like there’s this space for a significant other in your life, right?  And it just happened so naturally and you were already such a big part of my life, I didn’t really notice when you started filling some of it up.”  Jimin poured himself another shot and wordlessly threw it back before Namjoon went on.  “The story thing… it wasn’t that I can’t tell the difference between fantasy and reality.  It just sounded so much like us, I finally had to look at things from the outside.  And then I had to really think about what I was seeing.”  Namjoon finally let Jimin’s hand go and took his own drink.  “Did you know Jungkook thought we had a thing?”

“A thing?”  Jimin’s eyebrows shot up. 

“That’s why he showed you those stories.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” Namjoon echoed, even though Jimin wouldn’t really get the joke.  

Jimin poured himself another drink but he didn’t throw it back right away.

“Do you remember what I said when we read that story about the flower petals growing in your chest?”  Jimin asked, staring at his glass.  

“Hanahaki,” Namjoon cut in.

Jimin’s eyes narrowed at him and there was that fake-anger purse of his lips.  “You complete and utter nerd.  I was being serious here.”

“Sorry.”

Jimin laughed and threw back his drink and then went back to gazing at the empty glass.  “ Anyway .  I promised that if you ever fell in love with me, I’d love you back.”  He set the glass back on the table and looked up at Namjoon with a mischievous half smile.  

“Yeah?”  Namjoon felt his pulse picking up but he tried not to feel too hopeful.

“That was another one I really kicked myself for.  But, like you said,” his smile grew ever so slightly.  “If I’m already filling up half that space already...”

“I promise,” Namjoon started in, “I want this and I adore you and I think you’re amazing and I’m going to try to do so much better at paying attention and I don’t know what I can do about the height thing but…”

“Namjoon.”  Jimin cut him off with a hand on the shoulder.  “You already did the whole storybook thing with the speech and the fancy location and the candlelight and all that.  Can I do one of those things you always read about in stories now?”

“Um, sure.”  Namjoon nodded.

Then Jimin had his hands on either side of Namjoon’s face and he was pulling him in for a bruising kiss.

Except they weren’t really in a story.  They bumped noses and their teeth clinked together because they moved too fast.  Instead of kissing passionately, they both started giggling.

“Sorry,” Jimin apologized.  “That was a terrible first kiss.”

“Are you kidding?” Namjoon laughed.  “I think that was perfect.”

“Okay, I’m worried now.”

“Shut up.”

They were still laughing a little when Namjoon pulled him in for a second kiss.  But this time the laughter petered out and Namjoon’s entire reality narrowed down to the feeling of plush lips and the taste of soju on Jimin’s tongue.

And if there had been a bonsai before, the oak tree was growing wildly now, it’s branches spreading out and out.  

Because Namjoon had been telling the truth.  It had been a perfect first kiss.  Unlike every flawless, passionate kiss carefully described on the page, it had been awkward enough that he knew it had to be real.

Chapter Text

“Joon, Joon, Jooon!”  Jimin came rushing into their hotel room holding his phone out in front of him.

“Hmm, what?”  Namjoon sat up and tried to position his book so he didn’t look like he’d dozed off.  They were on tour again and it’d been a long day but he’d promised Jimin he’d be awake when he came back.

Whatever it was, though, had Jimin so excited that he barely even noticed as he flung himself on to the bed.

“I found out what it is.  Jungkook left his computer open and I didn’t snoop, I swear, but I figured it out.”

“What?”  Namjoon was still confused.

“I know Jungkook’s username.  For when he writes fic.”

Namjoon was awake in a second.  

“What is it?”  He asked, trying to look at Jimin’s phone.  Jimin held it back and away from Namjoon’s line of sight.

“I’ll make you a deal.  You guess and every time you get it wrong you have to kiss me.”

“What happens if I get it right?”

“I’ll kiss you.”

“God, you’re mushy.”

“Shut-up,” Jimin said, sitting up and nudging Namjoon with his shoulder.  “You love it.  Now guess.”

“Bananamilk69.”

“Nope.”

Namjoon leaned over and gave Jimin a peck on the lips.

“WowNamjoonsThighs.”

“Noooo.”

Namjoon leaned in again but Jimin stopped him with a hand to the chest.  “No, you’re gross.  You don’t get a kiss for that.”

“Fine,”  Namjoon huffed and then let out a long, thoughtful exhale.  “Okay.  GoldenClosetFic.”

“Nope.”

Namjoon leaned in a third time for a kiss.  This time Jimin tried to deepen it but Namjoon pulled away.

“No way, I’m not making out with you until you end the suspense.”

“Fine,” Jimin pouted and handed Namjoon his phone.  “You never would have guessed it, anyway.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows knit together as he stared at the screen, trying to figure out how it made sense.  “I don’t get it.”  He looked up.  “What do bees have to do with anything?”