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Namjoon has spent a long life among humans. It took him a while to get the hang of it. They were always changing, always too fast for him. Humans found out that their days were counted and they decided to make the most out of it. This often left Namjoon feeling like he was standing in place while the world rushed forward, like he was watching an eternity pass him by. Namjoon likes to take his time, never in a hurry to read that one book, to finish that series. He took his time to admire the flowers, the birds, to call them all by name.
His days in the mortal world all look the same. He goes to the same gardens, the same coffee shops, orders the same things. He goes on long walks around the city or hikes a mountain or visits a forest. The world around him feels a little muffled, but he has since gotten used to it, to living half a life. All the green forests and blue skies desaturated to a light grey. Not all days are this bad though, some days, Namjoon would get lost on purpose, see where his legs will lead him. These days add a little color to his life and today might just turn out to be one of these days.
The February sky is almost entirely grey with clouds. Namjoon loves the promise of rain, loves its smell, loves the promise of life. It comes naturally, him being a god of vegetation and all, but the atmosphere feels a little charged, a little ominous. Maybe he should head home for today. Maybe he should have never left. He has a bad record with luck. He might have also forgotten his umbrella.
Well, what’s the worst that can happen? He shoves his cold hands in his pocket and continues on his way, kicking a small pebble and following in its wake. It is too cold for his liking, but he can deal. His eyes stay glued on the pebble, that’s how he’ll get lost today.
Most gods have abandoned humans long ago, only passing through the mortal world to do their job and leave. Some of them have to stay, though, and Namjoon was one of them. This world no longer holds any meaning to the old gods. Most believers were long dead, and the gods’ blood in the descendants has thinned out, a golden dot in a sea of red.
The pebble hits something with a small thud pulling Namjoon from his thoughts. He has reached a gate of some sort, black and rusty brown covering the bars. Namjoon looks up from the grounds, searches for a sign, any indication as to where his legs brought him. And he finds it, a sign, faded and chipped away with overgrown vines hanging from it. A sign of the time. He reaches out to touch it, to try tracing the letters. Nothing. The gate gives way when he pushes a little, though, so he walks in.
Walking inside, Namjoon wonders if this is what it feels like to dream. Fallen leaves cover the cobbled road before him. He can hear the leaves whisper beneath his feet with every step that he takes. The whole place seemed to be encased in a calming warmth. The smell of grass after rain fills the air. Namjoon inhales deeply. The smell of the forest, the smell of home.
The place is filled with trees reaching up, up, up. And stones, he notices. Many, many stones, covered in vines and moss. Namjoon understands now. Not any stone, a headstone. He is in a cemetery.
It is a little different, a lot different, than any other cemetery he saw in a long while. Humans would call it unkempt. Trees reaching out to the sun, looking as old as the headstones. No human bothered to leave flowers, so the forest left them pieces of herself, gave them shade and comfort and love.
Namjoon watches the sunlight filtering through the leaves, watches the dust floating around the passing rays, hears a bird somewhere, hears a twig snap.
Someone is walking among the graves. Namjoon’s eyes take a while to find him. Black clothes blending in with the dark tones of the forest. The boy is tracing the name on a headstone as if they were old friends. He moves on and does the same to another stone, then another, then another. Almost like he knew all of them by name, saw their rise and fall. Maybe he did. His eyes hold a strange kind of sadness in them, a kind deeper than any human can feel. Namjoon can already tell, this boy standing in front of him is so much more.
He looks up to Namjoon, their eyes lock together.
“Are you lost?”
Namjoon knows now. He has heard about him, heard that he visited the mortal world every now and then. A change of scenery, some says. For fresh air, others murmur in the dead of the night. To escape death, the walls whisper when no one is watching.
“Yeah.” He approaches slowly. “what do you go by now?” This is their first meeting, sure, but Namjoon has heard a lot about the king of the underworld.
“Jungkook.” He smiles. It comes nowhere near his eyes. “You?”
“Namjoon.”
“Do you have anywhere to be?” Jungkook says, sitting down beside the headstone he had last touched.
Namjoon shakes his head.
“Sit with me, then?”
Namjoon wouldn’t have, really. ٍHe doesn’t know how that works, keeping the god of the dead company. But the boy looks so sad, so incredibly young for the load on his shoulders. And it does look like it's wearing him down. Namjoon can see it in the trembling of his hands, in his bloodshot eyes.
So he finds himself sitting down cross-legged in front of him.
Jungkook pulls his knees closer to his chest, makes himself as small as possible. He still exudes power, though, his mere presence demanding respect. He looks like he doesn’t know how not to, wishes to be insignificant for once. “You’re pretty, Namjoon-ssi.”
“Hyung,” He speaks before he can think it through. The moment the word is out of his mouth, his face turns as red as the hibiscus he so dearly loves.
“Hm?” Jungkook tilts his head to the side, looks a little entertained, a little endeared.
Namjoon clears his throat. “You can call me hyung if you want to, since you look younger than me.”
They both know that Jungkook must be older than Namjoon. They both know that Jungkook has seen things Namjoon can’t even begin to imagine. But if Namjoon can give him this one little thing, if he can make him feel younger, smaller than he always has to be, if Namjoon can lessen the weight on his shoulder even for a fraction of a second, then he is going to do it.
Jungkook smiles at him, a real smile, a big smile. With squinty eyes and bunny teeth, and oh, Namjoon is not expecting it, isn’t expecting the way his heart aches, the way his hand wants to reach out. “Okay, hyung.”
“So, what are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you?” Jungkook says, and it would have been playful if not for how lonely he sounds, how unsure. His smile comes out all wrong, not daring to measure up to the real one he just gave him. Namjoon just stares ahead, waits for Jungkook to decide how much he wants to say, if at all.
“A lot of-” Jungkook sighs, “A lot of people die hyung, especially in the winter.” He burrows his face further in his arms. “I just- I don’t have a saying in it, but,” He stops, breaths in, out, deep steady breaths that don't match the trembling in his voice. “But some of them are really young, hyung.” His voice still breaks on the way out.
Namjoon feels his heart break along.
“You’d think I would get used to it after so long.” Jungkook let out a humourless laugh, the first tear falling down his face and Namjoon is already crawling closer. He sits in front of Jungkook, their feet almost touching but not quite there yet. And every part of his being is screaming at him to comfort, to do something, anything.
“Nobody can get used to it. Nobody should have to,” Namjoon says, thinks about his trees and delicate flowers, thinks about them wilting away, greying, diseased. He knows that it’s not the same, knows that bearing witness to human souls can be both a horrifying and devastating ordeal. But he thinks he may know a little about death, about the passing of the seasons.
“No, no.” Jungkook shakes his head, more tears slip through. “I- I should. I’m the god of the dead. I-” He wipes frantically at his face, but as soon as he wipes a tear, another takes its place.
“Why?” Namjoon asks, tries to keep his voice as steady as possible.
“It’s my job.” Jungkook’s voice comes out barely a whisper, carried away by the wind.
“Your job is to govern the dead, to maintain the balance.”
Jungkook looks at him, eyes full of tears and lips trembling the slightest bit.
“Death is not inherently evil, Jungkook. It’s the act of killing that’s bad but death?” Namjoon shuffles a little closer, hopes that the other boy could see the truth in his eyes. “Death is neutral. It’s nature taking its course.”
They stay like this for a while longer, just the two of them and the constant thrumming that seems to follow the trees wherever they go. Jungkook has calmed down a little. Namjoon wants nothing more than to hold his hand, to wipe away his tears. It isn’t his place, though, so instead, he smiles at him and hopes that it can convey all the thoughts he doesn’t know how to articulate just yet.
When Namjoon gets up to leave, Jungkook’s hand reaches out to hold his wrist. He instantly drops it though, as if he surprised even himself. Jungkook looks at his hand, at the ground beneath his feet. He takes a deep breath before finally looking Namjoon straight in the eyes. He smiles at him, a delicate smile, a gentle smile, whispers thank you, hyung, Before disappearing right in front of Namjoon's eyes.
Namjoon walks home that day, no rain in sight. The only thing on his mind is a pair of doe eyes.
Spring comes around after a lifetime of winter. Namjoon welcomes it like an old friend. He packs sandwiches and decides to go exploring, doesn’t matter if he already knows every little corner in the city, he is still a pro at getting lost. And what a better way to welcome spring than to wander untethered. The skies are clear, and the weather is nice. He doesn’t mind getting lost, not in a park, not with kids running around, their giggles filling the air, not with young lovers on walks, on picnics, sharing a bench. He doesn’t mind, really.
But then there is a dog jumping on him, pulling on his owner and barking excitedly. Namjoon loves dogs, but this one is a little different. He can’t really miss the three heads even if he tries. Where humans would see a normal dog, Namjoon sees Cerberus.
“Really?” He laughs, looking at Jungkook as he bends down to pet the dog.
"He missed you. What was I supposed to do?" Jungkook shrugs, looking away, his cheeks colored a faint red. When Namjoon looks at him, he sees all the soft sunset hues reflecting on Jungkook's face, in his eyes, in the gentleness of his voice.
"Of course he did." Namjoon can't look away, never wants to look away, even if he has a three-in-one dog invading his space and demanding attention. "It’s not like we’ve never met before."
"Come on now don't expose me like that." Jungkook smiles at him, bending down to pet Cerberus too. The dog wiggles his tail faster now.
"So, the king of the underworld is out here walking his dog?"
"And meeting his friend." Jungkook still refuses to meet his eyes, but Namjoon is okay with that. Meeting his friend, he likes the sound of it.
"Come. I have something to show you." Namjoon stretches his hand out and Jungkook takes it with a big smile.
Namjoon tends to have favourites. Sometimes he wouldn't realize it. Sometimes he would. The small coffee shop with the nice old lady, his little plum bonsai, and his spot in the park. He calls it his own because it's always empty. No one bothers straying from the paved road, but if they do, they will find a small clearing with flowers and tall trees stretching, intertwining around it. That's where Namjoon takes Jungkook.
And it's worth it, definitely worth it. Worth seeing Jungkook stop in his tracks, seeing his eyes widen, seeing the universe in them. They sit on the ground, first talking, then just enjoying the company. Jungkook lays on his back, looks up to the sky. Namjoon pets Cerberus and looks at the flowers swaying back and forth, back and forth. He takes a flower and starts fiddling with it absentmindedly.
“What are you thinking about?” Jungkook asks, his eyes shifting to Namjoon then right back to the sky.
Namjoon smiles at him, looking back to the flower in his hand and bending a little to grab another one. "There are more trees on Earth than stars in the Milky Way. Some trees can warn others from danger. The largest organism on Earth is a honey mushroom.”
He says the first thing on his mind, baring the inner works of his thoughts to Jungkook hoping that he would know what to make of them. Cause Namjoon knows it’s a mess. Cause Namjoon has learned long ago that happiness and sadness can coexist inside one heart.
“Trees stand tall for thousands of years. The forest is alive, so alive and thrumming with energy. I can feel it under the tips of my fingers and in the trembling of my hands.” Jungkook sits up, looks at him intently. Namjoon keeps going, can’t stop, won’t stop. “It’s shelter and warmth and life, but it’s also cold nights and things lurking at night. It takes as much as it gives. And it gives a whole lot."
The gentle flowers in his hands, the air in his lungs, the leaves rustling, swaying, dancing, everything around them screams life, life, life, but-
“Humans are killing these forests.”
“I,” Namjoon takes a deep breath, trying to steady his voice, “I know that there are good ones, I know, but it’s hard to stay here, to not give up. Lots of other gods gave up. Why shouldn’t I?” His fingers dig in the dirt under them.
Jungkook looks at him, looks through him. Namjoon doesn’t know what he sees, hopes he doesn't see all the cracks and the worn down places inside of him. When he starts talking, it’s not what Namjoon expects.
“When I come to the mortal world for the first time in a long time I’m always nervous, you know?” Jungkook starts and Namjoon feels like he is hanging onto every word out of his mouth. Maybe he is.
“You never know what to expect. So I was walking down a street and suddenly this little girl ran up to me.”
Namjoon grabs another flower, his hands working on their own.
“She seemed shy and so, so small, so fragile. She gave me lavender saying that it should help me feel better then she ran off.” He chuckles, reaching out with one hand to the sky, playing with the sun, the skies, those who sit on their high throne watching fate unfolds.
“I went to a coffee shop and the barista took one look at me and went to make me herbal tea that made me feel better than I had in weeks, and refused to let me pay. When I went later to the same coffee shop I found that they don’t serve herbal tea. It was his, and he made it for a complete stranger just because he thought it would make their day better.” Namjoon doesn’t know what holds his attention more, Jungkook’s stories or the stars dancing in his eyes, the small smile on his lips.
“And the other day I went to a market and heard those two old ladies talking about their plants. One of them was growing mint and basil and strawberries. The other was growing tomatoes and lemons. One gave the other strawberry jam and fresh mint. The other gave her the best tomatoes I’ve ever seen.” The sun was setting. Red, orange, and pink mixing with the blue sky like a painting, like life, like every unsaid prayer mixing with every unanswered one.
“Some people go out of their way to help plant trees and flowers and vegetation, others devote their whole lives to it. And yes there are a lot of bad ones, but-” Jungkook looks him straight in the eyes, determination dancing with faith, brown speckled with gold, “but I think we ought to stay for the ones who try.”
And Namjoon doesn’t know when his tears start to fall, doesn’t know when he hugs Jungkook, can only feel the soft rumble of Jungkook’s chest as he hums a soft tune, can only feel his hand in his hair. Namjoon holds him like his life depended on it.
That day, Jungkook leaves with a flower crown on his head. That day, Namjoon leaves with a warmth in his heart. Maybe he can stay a little longer. Maybe he can stay a lot longer.
They develop a sort of routine with time. Even though Jungkook’s visits are irregular, he always seems to know where to find Namjoon. For three winters and three summers, Jungkook shows up at Namjoon’s door, in the park, the coffee shop, the bookstore. Some days he will bring him coffee, some days he will bring him flowers. Some days, Namjoon feels like Jungkook is all he could ever ask for, all he could ever need.
With time, Namjoon starts visiting Jungkook in the underworld. With time, he gets used to the cold, to the different vegetation and scenery and general atmosphere. The underworld starts feeling less like death and more like any other place he could visit. He makes friends there, meets Seokjin and Jimin, sees how love can flourish anywhere and everywhere. He tastes Seokjin’s cooking when they visit him in the mortal world, teaches Jimin how to make flower crowns and gets rewarded with a gentle kiss on his cheeks. He even attends their wedding, watches deities as old as the universe come to bless the couple, watches an excited Cerberus bring them the rings.
When Namjoon visits the underworld, it’s mostly with good news, with the jam that Seokjin got hooked on, the latest book that Jimin has been eyeing, or old records from Jungkook’s favourite band. This time when Namjoon visits the underworld, it’s with tears streaking down his face and a pain in his chest that feels like it will never go away. This time when Namjoon visits the underworld, it’s looking for comfort.
He knows the way like the back of his hand now. Knows that Jungkook would be in the garden, knows that he would be alone. The garden is Namjoon's favourite place in the underworld. It feels like a small piece of home, like a hot drink after a long tiring day. A place where he can finally take a breath. A place to lay his heart bare.
And sure enough, Jungkook is there, standing between the tall trees, singing to whoever would listen. Different plants, same soft hum. Ever since Namjoon has told him that plants love his voice, Jungkook would always take the time to sing to them.
Namjoon stands mesmerized, understands why the flowers sway to his voice. The tears don't stop, though, and Jungkook finally notices him.
"I want to stay here," Namjoon says coming closer, wiping his tears away.
The moment Jungkook sees the tears, it's like time freezes. His breath stills, and the hand that was reaching out to Namjoon stops. "Hyung-"
"I'm not going back. I'm not-"
"You can't." Jungkook looks worn down, stress and something else weighing on his shoulders. Death. Namjoon heard about what happened on the news, couldn't understand how humans can do this to their own flesh and blood. It’s part of the reason why he is here. He knows that it doesn't get easier, wishes that he can help. Namjoon knows that the other has a lot to deal with. He knows. But he can't will his tears away, or the trembling in his hands or the scream caught in his throat that threatens to comes out as a sob instead,
"Why? Why can't I have this one thing for myself?" He doesn't want to know what he looks like, what he sounds like, begging the god of the underworld to let him stay when others would beg to escape.
Jungkook takes a deep breath, lets it out and steps closer. His eyes are filled with so much kindness, so much gentleness, and something else that Namjoon isn't ready to address yet. He takes Namjoon's hands in his. Namjoon's hands are bigger than Jungkook's, but Jungkook's hands are always warm and comforting.
"They need you, love."
They do. Namjoon knows that already. Jungkook knows too.
"But-" He stops as Jungkook's hands come up to wipe his tears. His touch soft, soft, soft. Not quite like he is holding something delicate that might break, more like he is holding something precious to him. Namjoon likes to think of that. "But I'm so tired."
"I know."
"Why can't I just stay with you?" He feels his shoulders hunching over, a puppet with its strings cut. All the fight drains from him, replaced with crushing defeat. What can they do? Are the fates that cruel to doom them to a life of suffering?
"I'll look into it, okay? I'll find a way." And he sounds so hopeful. He sounds so sure of himself, like he will defy the fates if it means making Namjoon suffer less.
Namjoon feels his eyes well up again, hears Jungkook's whimper before he is hugging him again.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I-" Jungkook shushes him and holds on tighter.
"It's alright, hyung," He pulls back a little to look Namjoon in the eyes. "We'll be alright, yeah?"
Jungkook looks at him with such fierceness, such certainty that someday they'll be okay. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but someday.
"Yeah," Namjoon says, wiping his tears. Namjoon thinks that if all else fails, he can still trust Jungkook.
January nights are as cold as they are unforgiving. It is late, so late that the streets are almost empty in this small corner of Seoul. Namjoon doesn’t know what he is doing outside, doesn’t want to go to his empty apartment just yet. He pulls his scarf tighter around him. Jungkook’s visits are always fewer around winter, but he didn’t come ever since last summer and Namjoon is starting to feel the loneliness creeping up on him again.
He tells himself that he survived long, long years alone. What does a season matter in the face of a decade, a century. What does a season amount for in the face of fallen empires and lost civilizations. Somehow, all this doesn’t make Namjoon miss him any less. Somehow, Namjoon thinks that a season without Jungkook is a decade, a century, an eternity lost.
So he walks the empty streets, and he pets the little black cat that struts up to him like she owns the whole street. So he looks up to the moon and the stars that he can’t see and the tall buildings around him and thinks of a time when he could see galaxies.
And oh how Namjoon misses the stars.
He finds his way to some park. It's too cold to sit out there, but Namjoon always feels better surrounded by plants, even if the trees look a little sad today, even if there are no leaves for the wind to dance with. Namjoon sits down on the grass and goes about to whisper soft hellos to the plants, reassuring them that the winter will pass, someday, somehow.
Sitting under the trees and looking up makes him feel better somehow. The branches are still reaching out even without their green leaves. He can feel their energy, strong, warm, resilient. He can also feel another presence in the park.
Their energy compliments each other so well. It feels like warmth washing over him, thawing the cold taking residence in his heart. And soon enough he feels someone throwing himself over him.
"Namjoonie hyung," Jimin laughs, nuzzling closer. Seokjin chuckles from behind him.
Namjoon misses them so much. They have been so busy these past couple of months, and with their and Jungkook's absence, he felt so impossibly alone. "Hey Jimine, Jin hyung,"
"Missed us Joon-ah?" Seokjin asks, his tone soft, soft, soft. Like he knows how fragile Namjoon feels tonight, like he knows how much his heart aches.
They don’t question him, know that he just needs their presence. So they join him, sitting on either side of him without him having to ask. Seokjin lets him rest his head on his shoulder and Jimin cards his fingers through his hair. They tell him stories about stars and constellations, pointing out where they should be even though none of them can see them now. They tell him stories about the sea, about the waves and the moon and their intricate dance every night. They tell him about a lonely whale that the others can't hear, calling and calling with no answer. Namjoon feels a little like this whale.
“You know, Namjoonie hyung.” Jimin’s hand stills in his hair. “You were telling the trees that the winter will pass, but do you believe that yourself?”
Namjoon doesn’t have an answer. He knows that Jimin doesn’t need one, knows that Jimin already has all the answers.
"Come on, let's walk you home." Seokjin pats his thigh and gets up. Namjoon wants to object, doesn't want to go back to being alone, doesn't want to leave their warmth. Still, he accepts the hand extended to him wordlessly.
The walk back home is quiet, too quiet. It doesn't make Namjoon uncomfortable. He just misses them already, hopes that they will visit again soon. For now, though, he will have to settle for this, visits every now and then, even if the time between now and then is getting bigger and bigger.
They reach his apartment building sooner than he would have liked to. Seokjin ruffles his hair and Jimin engulfs him in a bone-crushing hug.
"See you soon Namjoonie," Jin salutes with a grin before they both disappear right in front of his eyes, gold dust swirling in their wake.
This used to make Namjoon's eyes widen with awe, used to fascinate him until he found out that Jin does it intentionally. The personification of death likes to leave in a flurry of glittering gold. Now he just rolls his eyes, unable to keep the fond smile off his face as he heads inside. He always feels better after their visits, feels a little less empty, tethered to the ground. When Namjoon opens his door, the lights are on for some reason.
“Hyung.”
He is here. He is here, Namjoon isn’t imagining it. There in the middle of his too-small apartment, Jungkook stands, so big yet so small. A king with the dead at his feet. A king with so much to bear. "Namjoon hyung, I found a way."
Namjoon has no idea what he is talking about. The immense relief that fills him at seeing Jungkook again after so long is almost overwhelming. The coldness of the apartment is replaced with a warmth that engulfs him whole. One second he is at his doorstep and the next he is tripping to take off his shoes and throw himself in Jungkook's arms.
"Hyung?" Namjoon doesn't want to respond, wants to bask in the other's presence for a while longer. He buries his face in his neck and shuffles closer.
He has missed this more than he would like to admit, missed Jungkook, missed his arms around him and the calmness that his voice invokes in him.
"You've been away for so long."
"I have." Namjoon can feel Jungkook's mouth move against the crown of his head.
"I missed you." Jungkook's arms tighten around him.
"I know. I- it'll be better from now on hyung." Jungkook pulls back a little to get something from his pocket. "I asked around, and the mortal world can survive for six months without you."
"Jungkook, the old gods would never let me do it."
Jungkook extends his hand with exactly six pomegranate seeds in it. "Whoever eats from the food of the Underworld has to stay there, hyung. If you eat six seeds, you can stay there six months each year."
"Jungkook-"
"I know that I left, but here I am now. And I know that you might have changed your mind. I know what the Underworld is like, but hyung," Jungkook takes a deep breath, and Namjoon sees years of stigma reflecting in his glassy eyes. "Hyung, I would really love to have you there."
Jungkook refuses to look at him, keeps his eyes glued to the floor. "And, uhm," his cheeks turn bright red, fall leaves and sunsets and the honey glazed apples Namjoon has always wanted to try.
"I like you. It doesn't have to mean anything if you don't want it to. But I would really like to take you on dates and hold your hand and," Jungkook takes a deep breath and finally, finally looks at him. "Just existing near you makes me feel better, makes me better."
"Of course you can come to the underworld whether you like me or not. If you're uncomfortable with the idea I can- are you crying?"
Namjoon rushes into his embrace. "Idiot."
Jungkook just stills, his hands shoot up, stopping a few inches away from Namjoon. He holds his breath for a moment, two moments, before he wraps his arms around Namjoon again. "I would love to come with you Jungkookie."
"And the other part?" And he is grinning, that shit-eating grin of his and Namjoon feels warm all over, feels his own smile tugging at his lips, feels his heart melting at the sparkling eyes looking back at him.
"And all the other parts too, yeah."
Six months in the mortal world, six months with his husband in the underworld, that is the agreement that they had come to years and years ago. And while Namjoon will always miss his husband whenever he is away, he knows the importance of his role in the mortal world. It isn’t that bad. He loves watching the trees grow and the flowers bloom, loves the feeling of sunlight on his skin and the wind in his hair, loves the smell of forests after rain, loves the feeling of wood beneath his fingertips. For now, that will have to be enough.
The coffee shop that he chooses today is almost deserted. A small place tucked away from the eyes of passersby owned by an old lady who sits with him sometimes. They talk about art and books and plants. She has a hint of magic in her, probably from generations before. The gods don’t roam freely anymore.
He sits at his regular table by the window with an iced americano and a book. He loves these slow mornings. Some humans, even in their short lifespan, manage to slow down sometimes. Namjoon suspects that that was what coffee shops are for. Time always feels a little altered in here, as if it stops, as if it has never existed.
These days, an unsettling sadness has taken residence in his heart. He feels so out of depth in a world that he has lived in for thousands of years. Seokjin says he needs a new hobby. Namjoon thinks he just needs his husband.
He knows that the mortal world needs him, but some days he just wants to curl up in a ball and cry.
When the bell chimes above the door, Namjoon has already spent an hour in the coffee shop, maybe five. He can’t tell. His drink is still cold, but he could have gotten another one. Namjoon could see the little water droplets on it. He pretends it's a race. Namjoon doesn’t look up to see the new arrival. Most people come in, order, take their drinks and leave.
But that person doesn't leave, doesn't even order. His footsteps don't go past Namjoon. He is standing beside him.
Namjoon looks up to find sparkling, wide eyes staring right at him, big smile on full display, and oh, his hair has grown so long since the last time they met. Namjoon is hit with the full force of how much he wants to run his fingers through his hair, of how much he misses his husband.
“Hey, hyung.” His eyes are so full of love, leaving Namjoon feeling exposed, feeling a little like he is drowning in them, not that he minds that much. He knows from experience that Jungkook won’t let him drown.
“You’re early.” Namjoon is doing a terrible job of hiding how enamoured he is.
“Couldn’t wait.” Jungkook smiles. His hands are itching to reach out, to touch. “Want to go for a walk?”
“Always.”
It is a known fact about Namjoon that he loves mornings, loves the sun and watching things grow, but he has never not wanted the morning to come as much as he does now.
“Thought you’d like it,” Jungkook says, resting his head on Namjoon’s shoulder. They are at Seoul Sky, watching the whole city stretch out beneath them. Namjoon feels a lot lighter already. Just being near Jungkook is enough to relax him. The observatory is empty, probably Jungkook’s doing.
“Humans can no longer see constellations, so they created their own.” Namjoon wouldn’t have said that if he was with someone else. Most other gods don’t speak of humans, regard them as a lost cause, think they strayed so far in their search for power. And maybe they did, but they have also created civilizations and music and art. They have fought for their beliefs and stood up for one another.
Other gods would have laughed at him, told him he is going soft for the lesser creatures. But Jungkook just smiles this shy smile of his.
“I think,” Jungkook starts, playing with Namjoon’s fingers in his hand, “I think we can learn a thing or two from them.”
“They don’t worship us anymore,” Namjoon says, watching the pretty city lights. Seoul feels a lot calmer when he is this high up.
“They do, just in different ways, different names.” Jungkook intertwines their hands, brings Namjoon's up to his mouth for a small kiss. “They worship Gaia and call her mother nature. They worship war and money and beauty. They worship the moon, the sun, the wind. They worship me and call me death.”
“Jungkook." Namjoon looks at him, wishes he could change the world, wishes he could bring anyone who dares bring sadness to Jungkook’s eyes to their knees. The things he would do for Jungkook scare him at times. His own thoughts scare him, but he knows that he has Jungkook beside him, knows that Jungkook will hold him through the worst of it. Neither of them has to face everything on their own anymore.
“It’s okay.” Jungkook smiles. “I know what I am, who I am.” He looks at their hands, fitting perfectly together, puzzle pieces complementing each other. “Even if they forget us, we have each other. We-” He turns his gaze to Namjoon, and Namjoon can't see anything but love, love, love. “We remind each other.”
Namjoon looks into his eyes and sees the stars, looks into his eyes and sees all that he has been through, all that he will go through. An eternity extends either ways. Namjoon thinks, if he has Jungkook by his side, he can weather an eternity and then some.