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Namjoon shouldn’t expect anything, he knew. This was just a fling, something to fill the void both of them were missing. Jungkook needed something, someone, to be in control over when almost everything was fucking him up. Namjoon needed something, someone, to distract him.
They were a peculiar pair. No one would have expected them to be in this arrangement if someone looked from the outside. Namjoon, who was out and proud of his sexuality, who didn’t care for society’s views of what he was, who lived his life the way he wanted.
And then you have Jungkook, the perfect son, his family’s hope, expectations upon expectations on his shoulders. His life was already planned from the moment he was born till the moment he breathes his last.
Jungkook wanted to live his life the way he wanted. Namjoon just wanted someone so he didn’t need to feel lonely anymore.
Namjoon didn’t remember how they met. They had common friends. Hoseok had been Namjoon’s best friend ever since they roomed in college, and Jungkook was his student in the dance studio he worked for. One of the few things Jungkook, in his controlled life, was able to make decisions for.
They weren’t really supposed to have their life cross, but maybe it was the alcohol between the two of them, or maybe it was way they clicked as they talked out Hoseok’s balcony, talking about frivolous things like shooting stars and wishes, of how the pros and cons of believing in fairy tales and happy endings, of things like love and soulmates…
Of heartbreaks and the choices you make.
Namjoon didn’t really know what it was, but as the night ended, Namjoon found himself bringing Jungkook to his small one bedroom apartment, and the next thing they knew, Namjoon had his back against the wall while Jungkook fiercely pressed their lips together.
Jungkook was clumsy, too eager and too passionate, but Namjoon liked it , revelled in it. He let Jungkook hold him tight, to grip him roughly, to listen to his gasps and growls and moans while holding on him as if he was the only thing right in his life.
Namjoon just wanted to forget, to forget about the person who treated him like this before Jungkook came into his life.
Maybe that was what made them gravitate towards each other. Both of them were just lonely souls seeking something to fill in that void.
He really thought that would be the end of it, that it’d be a one-time thing. Just something to satisfy the needs both of them have and then they’ll never see each again.
Except, Namjoon opened his eyes to meet Jungkook’s sleeping face across from him. The window was open and the morning was cold, but with Jungkook’s arms wrapped around him, Namjoon found that he wasn’t cold at all.
Exchanging numbers was supposed to be just for polite pleasantries, of keeping false promises of keeping in touch and never contacting each other again. But days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months, and then, Namjoon had never missed a text from Jungkook.
It started with just asking if each other was free, wanting to spend a night fucking each other just to get relief and to forget. Namjoon wanted to distract himself from his self-imposed pity party (hewasworthithewasworthithewasworthit-) and Jungkook needed to find a way to feel like he had control over his life (he didn’t want another meeting with a girl, leave him alone).
Jungkook would come in his pristine black business suit, carrying boxes of takeout and a case of beer, and Namjoon would open his door in a loose tank top and sweatpants hanging low on his hips.
Sometimes, they’d watch whatever cheesy drama was popular right now while eating chicken and drinking soju. Sometimes, Jungkook would shower and Namjoon would lend him his clothes and then they’d talk about how their days went.
Most of the time, Jungkook would only put the boxes on Namjoon’s table before he was bending him on the kitchen counter, his grip leaving bruises that bloomed on Namjoon’s hips.
It was supposed to be a mutually beneficial friendship. It was just supposed to be a short fling to occupy themselves from the reality they called life.
Both of them knew that it wasn’t going to last forever. Namjoon would go back to his poor excuse of an ex boyfriend because he was weak and pathetic and he just wanted to feel he was worth it, and Jungkook would be the perfect child and son and he’d be married to a nice girl from another rich family like his.
Their lives were quite predictable like that.
But then, one night became multiple, takeouts were replaced by cooking recipes they learned together from watching Youtube, beer turned to wine, and dramas on the couch became movies sharing the same blanket.
Texts became calls, and calls often lead to video calls. “Are you free?” turned to “What are you doing?” to “Hey, wanna watch ‘Into the Spiderverse again?’”
If they weren’t in Namjoon’s apartment, they’d be in Jungkook’s. If they weren’t there, they’d be walking along the Han river, watching people and eating corn ice cream even if it was in the middle of winter. They’d share roasted sweet potatoes on the steps overlooking the river, talking about the most absurd thing while people warmed their hands together.
Slowly, Jungkook started to leave clothes in Namjoon’s apartment, and Namjoon started to have space in Jungkook’s closet for his own clothing. Jungkook has his own toothbrush in Namjoon’s bathroom. Namjoon’s socks were part of the laundry Jungkook runs in the washer. Jungkook had to buy more dishes and pots so that they could cook more during night-ins.
Namjoon felt like the void was slowly getting filled, and Jungkook felt like he finally felt like the decisions he was making were his own.
But they weren’t dumb, this was just an illusion. One day, they were going to find someone and it wasn’t going to be them, but that’s just how life was.
But right now, it was just them, in this bed that was too big for one person, but enough for two. Bodies close and radiating warmth for each other.
It was just Namjoon and Jungkook, and it was enough.
“You left the window open again,” Namjoon mumbled sleepily, his eyes closed as he pushed his body closer towards Jungkook to steal his heat. “It’s cold.”
Jungkook pulled Namjoon closer to him, his bare chest meeting Namjoon’s naked back. He pressed a chaste kiss on his shoulder and tangled their legs together. “At least you have me.”
Namjoon could only smile and slowly drift back to sleep.
Yes, the window was open and the morning was cold, but at least they had each other.