Archive of Our Own

namjoon is in the middle of a rather vivid nightmare when he abruptly realizes that he is dreaming. he’d fallen asleep at an ungodly hour working on a track, and did not save his project’s progress before he’d passed out at his desk, exhausted by pre-debut stress. the realization makes him wake up with a jolt.

he wakes up in a panic, only to find himself underneath the hoodie he’d carelessly discarded to the floor hours ago. his previously precariously open water bottle has been closed, and all of his work is saved to the computer. his notepad is open to a page that’s blank save yoongi’s scrawled words, come home soon. the note, written lightly and in pencil, is easily erasable and contains a message that could have instead been conveyed in a text message. but it’s handwritten, and as namjoon turns the words over in his mind on his way back to the dorms, he decides he loves yoongi.

--

at eighteen, namjoon kind of knows what love is. not just any kind of love, like for his family or role models or music, but romantic love. the few relationships he’s been in never lasted long enough to teach him anything other than how to hurt someone he cares about.

he reads books and watches movies. he sees his parents interact, watches couples hold hands in the park, listens to friends and acquaintances talk about the people they’re with. namjoon figures he doesn’t know much about love for certain other than a.) it’s hard and b.) he’s never been in it.

but he likes to think about the things he’s uncertain about. part of a phenomenon’s intrigue can be its mystery, even if knowing so little about love sometimes makes him feel childish and naive. he wants to know more, but it’s not an easy thing to seek out.

he thinks he’s scared of it. maybe not of it itself, but of what it could mean. that someone could see him, talents and flaws and quirks and anger all combined in one person, understand him at a deep level, and love him nonetheless. who would love the worst version of him? would he want to be with someone who did?

he thinks he also wants it. maybe not simply wants, but is inexplicably desperate for it and everything it entails. he’s not naive enough to think it’ll all be coffee dates and champagne kisses, but he longs for the mundanity of knowing someone front and back, the boredom of it all. he wants to be with someone, plain and simple. he wants to lose himself in a hazy cloud of comforting memories that all come together and spell happy.

but if he spent his life happy with someone else, he’s not sure he’d ever feel happy with himself. he’s not even sure he can learn how to be happy at all, let alone happy and in love.

he thinks he’s good at being strong. good at being a leader. good at being melancholy, and eloquent, and angry and trustworthy and imperfect and human. but he doesn’t know how to be in love, and he doesn’t really know how to be loved.

he expresses as much to seokjin one night, when his hyung sets a plateful of reheated dinner in front of him but doesn’t walk out of the kitchen to let him eat alone. instead, seokjin had pulled out a chair and had a seat, content to watch namjoon eat his fill.

“have you ever been in love?” namjoon asks, too tired to do anything but get to the point, because he knows seokjin can tell something’s on his mind. and because he’s curious.

seokjin blinks, and that’s about all the emotion he lets his facial expression betray. “yes.”

they sit there, two surprised young men staring wide-eyed at each other for a minute, before namjoon can work up the courage to ask his next question. he realizes with a start how little he knows—or, how much he knows about seokjin versus how little he knows about his life. in the three years since he’s met him, he can count the deep one-on-one conversations he’s had with seokjin on his fingers, but he would still trust him until the ends of the earth.

“how did you know it was love?” namjoon asks. seokjin allows himself to smile then.

“you think too much, namjoon-ah,” he says, not unkindly. “i just didn’t know any word to describe how i felt other than love.”

namjoon contemplates these words, thinks about how delightfully simple they are. he doesn’t know if it would be so easy for him, but the sentiment still resonates.

“how did it end?” he asks. seokjin’s smile gets impossibly softer. wistful, even, and namjoon wishes he could know more without invading his privacy.

“i don’t think it ever completely does,” he says.

seokjin has scars and marks and stories like everyone else but namjoon thinks he keeps them inside. they’re hidden safely, but not quite buried. he never forgets who he is or what brought him to where he is today. namjoon loves him for sharing this side that he keeps so secret, so carefully tucked away.

--

love is not a subject that he really has the time to dwell on, but it’s one he thinks about often anyways. whether it’s because he’s a hopeless romantic doomed to a life of false hope and disappointment about love, or if it’s simply because part of his job is to write about romance, he’s not sure. these days, he’s not sure of much.

for example, he’s not sure what dance move he’s supposed to do after jimin’s solo in this song. he’s not sure how many times he’s made this mistake, and he’s not sure what angry shade of red hoseok’s face has to turn for him to be worried for both their lives.

the lead choreographer calls for a five minute break, and namjoon eyes the door to the hallway, hoping to collapse in privacy.

he stops to grab his water bottle and towel before he heads out, only to find himself face to face with taehyung.

“i see you,” taehyung starts before namjoon can say anything at all. “let me help you. you have to remember to keep your head up. or else you’ll be the only one staring at the ground when we’re all looking forward.”

namjoon, baffled by how profound taehyung’s words are, takes a moment and realizes maybe he has a point. maybe he is being too pessimistic, too fixated on negatives to see the big picture—

“hyung?” taehyung asks when namjoon doesn’t say anything. “you know which part i’m talking about? i can see you right next to me every time, missing the move. it goes, three, four, five-and-six-and-seven, eight.” as taehyung counts off, he demonstrates the dance, lifting his chin on beat. “you’re in the right position but you keep looking down and missing the next move because of it.”

“oh,” namjoon says intelligently. “you meant, literally keep my head up.”

he mimics taehyung, not watching his own feet as he dances. this time, the moves flow together, and he remembers what to do in the next measure.

“yeah, you got it!” taehyung says, a hint of bubbly energy in his voice despite how tired they both are, and namjoon is suddenly convinced that comfort is all taehyung knows how to do, even though he understands in the back of his mind that this is the same boy who just today arm wrestled jimin for half a bag of chips. this is the same boy who has spent hours in the bathroom with jungkook trying to figure out how to do their eyeliner on their own. namjoon knows there’s more to him, but taehyung is always so in-the-moment in everything he does, so passionate and intense that at times namjoon forgets other versions of him even exist.

right now, taehyung acts as a gentle mentor even though he’s younger than namjoon. he acts as an empathetic confidante with nothing but comfort and warmth in his eyes. he adapts to the role that is needed of him with no hesitation, smoothly and selflessly, and namjoon loves him for it.

--

even as the passing days and weeks turn into months, namjoon can’t see himself getting used to winning awards. it’s exhilarating at first, and then uglier emotions settle in. but he works hard to keep these negative feelings and doubts and dreads hidden; he doesn’t want to appear ungrateful or become cynical, flippant of big audiences that he should feel humbled by.

tonight though, it felt a bit like the vast faceless crowd was staring namjoon down as he stammered through his speech with an award in his shaky hands, everyone loudly projecting expectations that he just barely managed to meet. it feels unsustainable, precarious, like he’s riding his bike but approaching a standstill.

he’s half-heartedly rewriting lyrics he’s not happy with, sitting in bed with a notebook when a knock at the door snaps him out of his exhausted reverie.

“hyung?” asks a voice, and it’s whispered so quietly namjoon’s not exactly sure which of his three dongsaengs is outside.

“yeah,” he responds. the door creaks open and jimin slips inside.

“saw your light was still on. it’s pretty late,” he says.

“why are you awake?”

“why are you?” jimin asks, and namjoon falls silent. “what are you writing about?”

namjoon contemplates his answer. “fear of the inevitable.”

“this is supposed to be a happy night.”

“and yet look at the two of us,” namjoon says. jimin laughs dryly.

“what are you worried about, hyung?” jimin asks, and namjoon has the terrifying and irrational fear that jimin already knows. once upon a time, namjoon felt a sense of authority and responsibility around the others as their leader. but tonight more than ever he’s aware of jimin, his accomplishments and strength and resilience and the sharp look in his eyes, and namjoon feels small.

“you ever feel like maybe you’re not good enough, jimin-ah?” namjoon asks, not really expecting an answer because he must be crazy. he doesn’t even really want an answer, he decides, because there’s no amount of empty reassurance or polite disagreement that jimin could possibly offer that will change his mind.

“every day,” jimin says without hesitation, and namjoon looks up in shock, his infuriatingly loud brain quieting for a merciful moment. jimin holds his gaze and climbs up onto namjoon’s bed to pick up his notebook. he flips to an empty page, and writes.

namjoon watches ugly words blossom on the paper in jimin’s handwriting. they’re not quite lyrics, they don’t rhyme with anything, except thoughts that namjoon has written down before. jimin’s words rhyme with namjoon’s own guilt, fear, rage, and relief, and namjoon loves jimin for his raw honesty.

--

“how do you do it?” namjoon laughs as hoseok closes the door behind the maknaes. with everyone else finally back in their own hotel rooms, namjoon knows the two of them should get ready for bed.

“it’s hard being a single mother,” hoseok jokes, and namjoon snorts. they both sit down on the carpeted floor between their beds, indulging in a little rest before they have to clean up and go to sleep. namjoon throws his snapback to the ground as he runs a hand through his hair. it’s stiff with product, and he sighs in disgust.

“i don’t have the energy to play the way they do, hope-ah. we have schedules all day but you’re always ready to jump up and chase them around. i’m not that type of person,” namjoon sighs wistfully, and hoseok tilts his head in consideration.

“it’s not about what type of person you are. it’s just about… the way they make me feel,” hoseok says thoughtfully.

“all they make me feel is old,” namjoon laughs.

“no, they don’t,” hoseok laughs. “even tonight, you were yelling along with them, telling jokes that made jimin fall flat on the ground. just because you’re the leader doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to let yourself have fun, namjoon.”

hoseok says it teasingly, even though this is something that bothers namjoon often. his relaxed tone makes namjoon feel a little better.

“besides,” hoseok continues, “sometimes a moment is just a moment. there’s no roles or responsibilities. or, your only responsibility is to yourself.”

when namjoon is having fun with the members, there’s nothing he wants to concern himself with other than enjoying himself. “yeah, ok. maybe, my perception of myself is too one-dimensional.”

“that’s the problem, right there,” hoseok says, casually stretching his legs as if he’s not psychoanalyzing the shit out of namjoon. “you shouldn’t have just one perception of yourself. are you the same person at noon that you are at six in the morning?”

“well, it depends—” namjoon says, beginning to understand.

“exactly. it depends. on when it is, what you’re doing, who you’re with, how you feel. that’s how i see it, anyway. you don’t have to always do whatever is expected of kim namjoon. that’s why the kids like me better.”

“okay, i see your—hey, what?” namjoon exclaims.

“what were you saying?” asks hoseok, the teasing tone of his voice softened by his bright smile. “you see my point about how predictable and boring you are?”

“boring,” namjoon scoffs. “jung hoseok, i have been a rapper since i was in middle school!”

“i’m sure middle school namjoon was really fuckin’ cool,” hoseok says sarcastically, standing to walk away.

“excuse you!” namjoon shoves him hard into the mattress, and hoseok bursts into laughter upon impact. namjoon grabs a pillow, holding it over his head like a threat as hoseok grabs one in self-defense. “take it back.”

hoseok gives him a defiant look, a taunt in his eyes. “no.”

when namjoon brings down the pillow, hoseok is quickly amending his answer. “wait! no, please, no! you’re cool! you’re cool!”

as hoseok dashes away, namjoon can’t totally remember how exactly telling hoseok that he felt too drained to have fun led to him chasing him down with a pillow and a vengeance. there’s something about hoseok that makes it easy for namjoon to forget himself and everything else. he feels at ease, and tiny compared to the astronomical amount of love hoseok offers him, his sunny disposition filling namjoon with comfort. suddenly, the only thing that matters is that he enjoys himself with someone he loves.

--

if namjoon’s learned anything in the last couple years, it’s that he’s more than one person. he’s a combination of contradicting qualities and personas that seem, on a superficial level, to be mutually exclusive. he is tall, and tiny. on top of the world, and crashing into rock bottom. he has to be everything and he can’t be stretched thin. he’s multifaceted, because he has to be, and because people aren’t always what they seem.

people aren’t always what they seem, he learns, when he walks into taehyung’s and jimin’s hotel room one morning to wake them up, and finds them intertwined around each other, kissing. each other. on the mouths.

“what the fuck?” he exclaims in english, an unfortunate habit he’s picked up that now has taehyung and jimin springing away from each other. jimin hits the floor hard as he falls off the bed, and taehyung bangs his head against the wall behind him with a thud.

time freezes, for an excruciating moment, as namjoon fully registers the reality of the situation unfolding in front of him. two of the members are… hooking up. together, dating perhaps. this is nothing but a scandal waiting to happen, waiting for who knows how long.

judging by the easy way that they had been pressed against each other, cuddled under the covers and in pajamas (jimin is wearing one of taehyung’s oversized t-shirts, namjoon realizes), this isn’t a new development. and perhaps that would be good news, suggesting stability between the two, but there’s no doubt in namjoon’s mind that he’s thrown a live grenade into their relationship by barging in and yelling. and unintentionally giving the impression that he does not approve.

does he approve?

time is moving at its usual speed again, and taehyung is, for some reason, covering himself with the blankets even though he’s fully clothed, and jimin is done screaming, having run out of air in his lungs. namjoon, in a bit of a trance, shuts the door behind him.

he doesn’t know how many terrible, awkward, insane seconds pass before taehyung musters the will to speak.

“please say something.”

“other than ‘what the fuck,’” jimin adds, and taehyung cringes, burying his face in the covers.

namjoon, baffled, looks between them.

“we have to talk,” he says shakily, hoping he doesn’t come off as agitated as he feels as leader, now shouldering responsibilities that he didn’t think he’d ever have to. “we gotta go soon, so get ready. but we have to talk.”

as he turns to leave the room, he catches their broken expressions. the fear. guilt. shame. they shouldn’t have to feel this way. sure, they’re his irresponsible idiotic dongsaengs. but namjoon does know one thing for certain. he whirls around again.

“i won’t tell anyone. you’re not in trouble with me or anyone else, if i can help it. we just have to talk,” he reassures them.

great. well fucking handled, namjoon, he chides himself as he steps out of the room, soothing his nerves with the memory of faint relief on jimin’s and taehyung’s faces.

--

the day goes by quickly and torturously slowly. jimin and taehyung stay as physically far apart from each other as possible, which is easy to miss in a busy group of seven. but namjoon notices, stomach tied in knots of guilt and confusion and curiosity and questions and anger, although he’s not quite sure who or what the anger is at.

he feels anger often these days. it’s easy to quell; sometimes it’s just barely anger, constantly bubbling at a low simmer in the form of annoyance or jealousy. sometimes it blossoms fully into rage, bloody and fresh, and he has no choice but to swallow it down. he often doesn’t know what he’s angry at, so today he lets it slide.

he can tell, by the evening, that this day has been no easier on jimin and taehyung. when they file into his room, showered and refreshed from the day’s schedules, they both look scared. they wordlessly sit on the edge of the bed, which namjoon faces from the chair at the desk. the cheap hotel furniture creaks, and they move delicately, like there’s a sleeping dragon in their midst and their lives depend on not awakening it.

namjoon has burning questions, and frustration that he has to be mindful to control. he wants to blurt out, ‘what are you doing? are you trying to give me a stress-induced ulcer? do you know what you’re risking by dating within the group? you’re both young attractive idols with the pick of anyone in the country. why did you have to pick a bandmate? a brother?’

but the band isn’t literally a family, and jimin and taehyung aren’t literally brothers. in reality, they’re friends, good friends. old friends, best friends, who are the same age, have known each other for years, spend most of their time with each other, trust each other, love each other. in a perfect world, they’d be perfect for each other.

but they don’t live in a perfect world.

he’s tired of his unanswered questions.

“what are you?” namjoon asks first. he has to know whether this is a fling, a casual relationship, or something more.

“gay?” taehyung says uncertainly, and jimin elbows him. namjoon swallows nervous laughter.

“i mean, what are you to each other? what is the nature of your relationship?”

“oh,” taehyung says. “we’re dating.”

“we’re boyfriends,” says jimin at the same time, and that word, and all the weight that comes with it, is strange for namjoon to hear. by the look on jimin’s face, it’s strange for him to say too. taehyung’s leg bounces up and down.

“how long has this been going on?” namjoon asks, just because it’s the next logical question he feels that should be asked.

“a few months,” jimin says.

“who else knows?” namjoon asks. taehyung hesitates before answering.

“no one outside of us,” he says. jimin’s lips are pressed together, sealed tightly like this is a secret he is working hard to keep quiet, like this is a part of his life namjoon needs to stay out of. namjoon feels inclined to agree, but his hand is forced.

he chastises them, because it’s his job as leader and they know it. because they need to be more careful, especially in hotels and during tours and when they have a concert this weekend. because this is not what they’re here for, and because they’re supposed to put the band before anything else. the band that is still relatively young and vulnerable to media scrutiny, the band that needs to focus on working hard if they want to make it to where they want to be.

he does not come anywhere near the topic of sexuality, because he can’t bring himself to. and he refuses to outright tell them to end their relationship.

“i get that you’re young, but your lives are bigger than just yourselves now. you have responsibilities. so the band and your wellbeing have to be your top priorities. and you have to be careful if you want to preserve either,” namjoon finishes.

jimin looks serious and taehyung’s face is blank. when they voice their understanding, namjoon wishes he could know what they’re really thinking, know how they’re feeling. but he can’t be their guardian. he can’t protect them absolutely, not from themselves, and not when they’re not completely willing to open up. they still seem guarded, like they’re carefully monitoring themselves in front of him.

as they leave his room, namjoon feels crushed, as though it’s his own relationship that’s been put under a microscope and picked apart by a third party. he can’t imagine how they feel, and he doesn’t want to.

“jimin, taehyung,” he says before they reach the door, and they turn around to look at him. they look young, and the darkness in their eyes reflects the storm brewing in his own heart. namjoon picks his next words carefully.

“you’re not alone.”

taehyung opens his mouth, maybe to thank him or bid him farewell or ask what he means, but jimin gives namjoon a curt nod, grabs taehyung by the wrist, and pulls him away.

--

namjoon wants to be supportive. it’s not difficult, and he thinks that jimin and taehyung could have gotten away with their secret for much longer if he had not accidentally come across it. they’re still the same, shamelessly close, the way best friends are. during rehearsal, when hoseok puts his hands on namjoon’s hips to guide him through a move, he watches jimin help taehyung stretch with his hands on the same places on taehyung’s hips. as he accepts a french fry from seokjin’s lunch, he watches taehyung reach around jimin to feed him off his own fork. it’s easy to overlook the way they care about each other, because all of bangtan cares about each other this way.

namjoon doesn’t let himself dwell on these observations.

he wants to be supportive, isn’t sure why it doesn’t sit right with him when they’re in the car, doubled over in giggles together, their heads pressed together to watch something on jungkook’s phone screen. he calls it nostalgia when his cheeks flush at their teasing, when he’s a part of their jokes, their smiles. he chalks it up to wistful envy when his heart hurts at the sight of the three of them slumped against each other, passed out in the back row. he will settle for the quiet ache that he constantly feels but cannot explain when yoongi shifts in his sleep and rests his head on namjoon’s shoulder. he just looks out the window, tries to focus on where they’re going. he can’t afford to dwell on his confused emotions.

namjoon dwells anyway. but two and two don’t fit together in his head; they don’t add up to seven.

--

namjoon hasn’t tried to sneak out in years. he hasn’t had to tiptoe out of his bedroom and grab his shoes before quietly clicking the door shut since he was in high school, which was sort of recent, but it feels like a lifetime ago.

now, he walks back home cautiously.

he met her at an award show, and she was kind, and really pretty. his senior by a couple of years, she had made it abundantly clear through politely subtle comments during their text conversations that she was only interested in something casual, a one-time thing even, and it had been ages since he had been with someone.

it was nice. he doesn’t have the words to explain why he feels so empty after a one night stand. none of the dramatic lyrics he’d typed in his phone notes on the cab ride home expressed how he felt or offered any amount of cathartic relief.

he worries that he expects too much, from other people, from romance, from sex, from himself. maybe this is all there is. fleeting connections that fade as fast as they appear, blurry memories of reckless youth before he settles for someone who’s just as lonely as he is.

he slips his key into the door. he hopes no one is awake to see his walk of shame. he hopes someone is awake to keep his lonely heart company.

the lights are all off as he slips in and closes the front door, and it’s not until he hears quiet murmuring from the common area that he realizes he’s not alone. he listens from the entryway to discern who the voices belong to.

“your elbow is in my side.”

“yeah, well, your knee is on my crotch.”

the voices are coming from the sofa, but they’re too hushed for namjoon to tell who’s there.

“your crotch is on my knee! next time you want to watch a movie at one in the morning, don’t come to me, hyung.”

“i let you pick the movie!” one of them protests, and by the indignant squeak it sounds like hoseok. “and it’s not like you would have been asleep.”

“i could have been!”

“jungkookie.”

“yes hyung?” that’s jungkook’s voice, then. sweet and saccharine, teasing hoseok.

“you were very clearly playing games on your phone underneath the covers.”

namjoon has half a mind to join them in front of the tv, to just plop down and let hoseok hug him and jungkook comfort him, and forget his worries. he’s debating this, so he lurks silently out of view.

“googie. i was only kidding,” hoseok says after jungkook doesn’t respond.

“whatever.”

“don’t pout at me!”

“what are you gonna do about it?”

fondly exasperated by their bickering, namjoon steps around the corner so that the couch is within his line of view. to his surprise, the two aren’t sitting, but instead are laying on the couch with their arms and legs entangled. and even more surprisingly, hoseok has taken up on jungkook’s challenge by—

by kissing him.

it only lasts a moment, but when hoseok pulls away jungkook is smiling widely. namjoon’s hand flies to his mouth, and the movement must catch jungkook’s eye because his smile drops immediately.

“oh god, namjoon-hyung,” jungkook says in a tiny voice, and namjoon is suddenly and violently reminded of the big-eyed boy who he’d met years ago, painfully shy and in a permanent state of awestruck reverence towards his hyungs. namjoon’s never felt so bad for walking into a room.

“huh?” hoseok asks, and turns to see namjoon’s shocked expression in the haziness of the tv screen’s glow. “oh, shit.” hoseok and jungkook scramble off each other.

“i’m sorry!” namjoon blurts, and winces at how awkward it sounds, how awkward he feels. at least he reacted a little better than he did last time.

“we were just, we—it’s just…” jungkook stammers as he rights himself up on the couch, and somehow it sounds like he’s going to cry before namjoon has even said anything.

“it’s okay, we’re just—listen, namjoon—it’s okay, jungkookie, love,” hoseok says in a rush, incoherently, waving his hands at namjoon like he can sweep this incident away, and then throwing an arm over jungkook’s shoulders as the younger boy draws in on himself in a panic.

namjoon doesn’t feel like he has it in him to do this again, but he has to.

“jungkook, it’s okay, you guys, shh,” namjoon says over the chaos, mindful not to awaken anyone else in the house even as their three voices frantically overlap each other. “guys, it’s okay, calm down.”

hoseok looks up, a crisis in his eyes and a hand on jungkook’s shoulder. jungkook’s hands are wrung in his lap, where he is undoubtedly fighting the urge to cover his reddening ears and run away.

“look, it’s okay,” he says quickly, and mutes the tv that’s still playing a movie he knows jungkook has seen at least twelve times. he switches on the dim lamp on the table next to the couch, flinches because maybe even worse than the fearful tears swimming in jungkook’s eyes is the closed-off and defensive expression on hoseok’s face.

his mind is screaming questions. how did this happen? when did jungkook even grow out of his middle school uniform? at what point did hoseok stop having eyes for the pretty girls he used to talk about with namjoon? how did these two even get together? why are so many of his friends so bad at hiding their relationships?

“it’s okay,” he says again, partially to comfort jungkook and partially to stall as he tries to remember all the conversation points he has to address in his leader spiel again. “i’m not gonna tell anyone.”

jungkook tries to say something but is anxiously hiccupping now, and hoseok tears accusatory eyes off of namjoon to quietly shush jungkook and rub his back reassuringly. namjoon decides that he is glad they have each other.

“look, it’s okay that you’re a couple. i’m not going to tell anyone. we just have to be on the same page, okay?”

as jungkook calms down and catches his breath with hoseok’s help, namjoon can’t help but watch them in disbelief. this is j-hope, the skilled dancer and rapper. this is someone who, on a professional basis, almost intimidates namjoon with his dedication and talent. but he’s also someone who’s so open and welcoming and trusting and trustworthy that namjoon had fooled himself into thinking they were close enough, as fellow bandmates, fellow 94-liners, that if hoseok were in a relationship, he would have told namjoon. he’d also thought that if any members had any secrets, like being gay, hoseok would be the most likely to open up to namjoon.

maybe it’s weird that he’s thought about this stuff. but hoseok makes him feel seen, and not alone. namjoon swallows down irrational envy, telling himself this is not the time to be petty and childish just because his friend did not confide in him about his sexuality. after all, it’s not like hoseok knows about namjoon.

seeing hoseok in a relationship is strange. seeing him involved with a boy is stranger. but the thing that’s really baffling is that the boy is jungkook.

he supposes that their maknae has been an adult for months now, but it’s hard for namjoon to see him that way. it’s hard to imagine the earnest boy he met years ago as a fully functioning independent adult with a heart of his own. he doesn’t know why it bothers him so much.

“you know how i feel about the relationship policy,” namjoon forces himself to start. “so nobody is going to hear anything about you two from me. we just have to have this talk.”

he launches into a lecture that borrows most of its points from the one he gave taehyung and jimin a long while ago, although the familiarity doesn’t make the conversation any easier or less awkward.

he tells them, of course, to be careful, aware of watching eyes of fans and the public and even staff. he warns them of the implications of dating within the group, although it feels a bit weird to be telling hoseok what to do as if namjoon is the elder in the room.

“unfortunately, you have to always be responsible and discrete. the last thing any of us need is one of you two slipping up, and everybody in the media investigating the secretly gay members of bts,” namjoon says flatly, and hoseok’s usually friendly expression twists into something bitter. jungkook laughs quietly.

“jimin and taehyung would kill us,” he says, and namjoon balks at the realization that jungkook and hoseok know that jimin and taehyung are together.

he briskly moves past the topic of sexuality, and he doesn’t want to suggest that they break up for the sake of the band. he doesn’t think he’s ever gonna be okay with demanding such things, and inviting himself into his bandmates’ relationships like that. hoseok and jungkook already seem to have something that’s beyond him. something that doesn’t involve him in the slightest. their being together is none of namjoon’s business.

when he wraps up, they’re both nodding seriously, agreeing with no objections. they’re sitting separated from each other and from him, and namjoon aches, feeling like he’s just a representative of their company, a boss or leader, an outsider. he’s familiar with the feeling of not belonging, but the sting is extra sharp when he sees how well they belong to each other.

part of him wants to be happy that he’s friends with such emotionally mature people that he doesn’t truly have to intervene in their romantic lives in a professional capacity. part of him is unsettled, and unsure why. he should be glad jungkook and hoseok seem happy and secure with each other. why doesn’t he feel happy?

“you guys okay?” namjoon asks when he’s done. he hates the talk. he really does. but jungkook gives him a warm and grateful smile, and hoseok looks like he’s itching to hug namjoon but is respectfully resisting the urge.

“we’re okay,” hoseok answers. “this conversation could have been much worse, all things considered.”

hoseok chuckles darkly, but namjoon stares down at his hands.

“i know what leaders are supposed to say in these kinds of moments. but i’m never gonna tell any of you you’re wrong to seek relationships, or love. i’d be a hypocrite.”

jungkook frowns.

“we all want love. it can’t be helped,” namjoon says with a dismissive shrug. hoseok really does hug namjoon then, closing the distance between the two of them like it’s natural, like the walls namjoon has built around himself are nothing. jungkook laces his fingers with namjoon’s and sits down on the ground in front of him.

“thank you,” jungkook says, quiet and reverent like a prayer, and he’s so sincere, so genuine, so precious to namjoon. namjoon presses his nose into the fabric of hoseok’s t-shirt. the material is thin and loose and clings to his shoulder like leaves in a windshield. precious is the right word to describe the members to him, namjoon decides. they’re everything. dangerously fragile, perhaps. but a squeeze of jungkook’s hand in his reminds him that they are also strong, stronger than him in every imaginable way. they leave him awestruck.

“are you happy?” namjoon whispers, one hand feeling the steady rise and fall of hoseok’s ribcage as they hug, and the other enveloped by jungkook’s as he rubs circles onto namjoon’s skin. he doesn’t know why he asks it, which, he supposes, is not surprising. he doesn’t know much, it seems; he barely even knows who he is these days. he certainly doesn’t know how other people wait for uncertainties.

jungkook doesn’t hesitate to answer namjoon’s question, even though the tears falling from his eyes are steady and his voice is not. “yes.”

namjoon will wait, then. he’ll wait as long as he has to.

--

the days pass by, and things are almost entirely normal. they are normal, really, but namjoon’s eyes are permanently affected by the knowledge with which he is burdened. sometimes he’ll see hoseok give jungkook a lingering touch or jungkook catch hoseok’s eye in a soft way, and although no words are exchanged, namjoon cringes at the sight like a conservative parent. he wants, irrationally, for them to stop, for god’s sakes, because they’ll be caught and exposed.

it’s ridiculous. he knows they’re being careful enough, and they’re interacting like they always have, like the group of close-knit friends that they are. but what he knows and what he feels are often at odds.

it’s protectiveness, he tells himself. he wants his friends to be happy, so he’s wary of their relationships, even if they’re with each other. that’s why his skin burns in the places that hoseok grabs jungkook as if he’s the one being touched, and that’s why he can’t take his stare off jungkook’s smiling eyes, squished into adoring crescents with the force of his laughter, a sound that’s so contagious he can’t help but join in despite the ache in his heart.

namjoon tries not to think about it, but—maybe he’s jealous.

it’s not his fault. he’s just lonely. he wishes he was in a relationship too, sometimes. maybe often.

he briefly feels a hand on his arm, knuckles barely grazing against the material of his shirt, and he relaxes the tension in his body. he turns to face yoongi.

“all good?” yoongi asks.

“all good. ready for the weekend,” namjoon says with a plastered smile on his face.

“say, namjoon!” seokjin says, butting into the conversation with an innocent grin that namjoon can see right through. “got any fun weekend plans?”

“nah, hyung,” namjoon says, watching as seokjin rests his forearm on yoongi’s shoulder and rubs his chin in mock contemplation. yoongi rolls his eyes and pushes the other off, but seokjin does not break character.

“well then,” seokjin asks, overly casual, “maybe you should meet my friend. she’s also free this weekend.”

and suddenly it’s abundantly obvious what seokjin is trying to do, even though rehearsal is just wrapping up and a couple of staff members are still filing out of the room. the other members’ ears perk, and they all begin to crowd in on the conversation like they’re high schoolers watching a fist fight break out in the halls.

namjoon pointedly waits with his arms crossed until the last of the staff has left the room before responding to an eagerly awaiting seokjin.

“are you seriously trying to set me up with someone?” he asks. he doesn’t want to date right now, for a plethora of reasons, and he definitely doesn’t want seokjin to set him up with someone.

“come on, namjoon,” seokjin says, a teasing lilt in his voice. “she’s pretty, and nice, and she’s a rapper too!”

namjoon frowns. “i don’t think i’d want to date another idol.”

seokjin smiles, but for just a moment, it’s different. almost like the smiles he used to force regularly in the early days of bangtan, when they worked hard and bitterly with no payoff. he looks like he’s been wronged and hurt and it’s his job to hide it.

“then have i got the girl for you!” seokjin exclaims like a game show host or an overly excited newscaster, and suddenly he’s back to his joking self. “i met her in school, and i swear she’s a rising movie star now—”

“i don’t want to date anyone in the public spotlight,” namjoon interrupts, just to be annoying.

“fine,” seokjin concedes. “i have a family friend who just moved to seoul. she’s new in town, and she just finished up medical school—”

“i’m pretty sure the only profession with less flexibility to date than doctor is idol,” namjoon chuckles, and yoongi stifles a chuckle into the cuff of his shirt sleeve. seokjin, on the other hand, sighs and rolls his eyes.

“well damn, joon. you can’t keep shooting down all my suggestions, i’m not friends with that many women,” seokjin grumbles.

“shocker,” jungkook says, and hoseok claps as he bursts into laughter. namjoon flinches, protective as always, wishing hoseok would tone it down so the others won’t find out about their relationship.

but they know about taehyung and jimin, so who’s to say taehyung and jimin don’t know about jungkook and hoseok?

maybe relationships and sexuality and love are things that the other members feel comfortable discussing with each other freely, as long as namjoon isn’t there to be the leader and ruin all the fun.

but that’s stupid. they trust him, of course they trust him.

and maybe that makes it worse. namjoon’s stomach lurches when seokjin’s words run through his mind, the assumption being that namjoon is only interested in women.

namjoon thinks, not for the first time, that he has had some sort of unequal exchange with the members, his closest friends who trust him both because they have to and because they choose to. he’s lucky enough to have the privilege of knowing he’ll be safe with them. they’ve given him everything, bared their souls, trusted him with their lives, and what has he given them in return?

“for the record, hyung,” namjoon says, forcing himself to sound casual. “if you really wanna set me up with someone, it doesn’t have to be a woman.”

a moment passes where namjoon wants to collapse in on himself in awkwardness, and he looks down to avoid everyone’s eye, because what the fuck did he just do.

but then yoongi is nodding, a simple gesture that speaks volumes. taehyung and jimin give him wide, knowing smiles. hoseok claps him on the shoulder, and jungkook rolls onto the tips of his toes in silent excitement, and seokjin doesn’t outwardly react at all, just goes on and begins to list single eligible male friends of his that he can set namjoon up with, and namjoon feels safe with them, as always.

--

it’s a lazy sunday morning when the third Incident occurs, when namjoon makes a final surprise discovery about a secret couple within the band. he’s almost used to it at this point.

namjoon is lumbering through the hallway back to his room, having gotten up out of hunger to have some breakfast. he heads back to his room now to spend his rare morning off in bed, knowing he has a few free hours and some of the other members have schedules in the recording studio.

he’s trudging past several closed doors when he sees yoongi pushing seokjin out of his room. seokjin’s whines and yoongi’s bouncy giggles are just audible to namjoon, who is standing at the end of the hallway but has not been spotted yet.

“it’s barely nine. why can’t we sleep longer? who are you and what have you done with my suga?” seokjin asks with a playful pout.

“you held me hostage in bed for an hour. plus, you’re the one who has to work in—oh look at that,” yoongi shoves his phone in seokjin’s face. “twelve minutes!”

“i could just not show up,” seokjin suggests, very seriously. “i shouldn’t, really. the staff will laugh at my bedhead.”

“poor baby,” yoongi coos. he steps out of the threshold into the hallway and closes the door behind him. namjoon watches yoongi jam his own beanie onto seokjin and seokjin’s cheeks rise with stifled laughter, the tinkling noise twirling down the hallway into namjoon’s ears. his hands still on the hat on either sides of seokjin’s face, yoongi gently pulls seokjin closer so he can press a kiss against his lips.

well, that’s new.

namjoon’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t react anymore than that. somewhere in the back of his mind, he takes pride in himself for being composed—this isn’t that surprising, after all. yoongi and seokjin were long-time roommates. maybe it was only natural that they started dating. their senses of humor are pretty compatible too. it’s not difficult for namjoon to fathom either of them falling for the other. he can’t blame either of them for loving the other.

a much scarier realization hits namjoon then. he’s the only single member left. in their group of seven, he’s the only one who doesn’t have a significant other, who sleeps alone, who has no one. not only are all of his friends dating people, but they’re all dating within the group. they’ve all coupled up without him and he’s the odd man out.

yoongi seems to finally notice namjoon rooted to the spot in his peripheral vision, and he waves sleepily. seokjin turns to him, half-registers his presence, says hi, turns back to yoongi, and then does a dramatic double take, eyes wide as he finally realizes namjoon saw them kiss.

namjoon snaps out of shock. “come on! you guys too?” he yells down the hall.

seokjin grabs onto yoongi’s arm, clinging in fright.

“oh my god,” yoongi groans, burying his face in his hands. “sorry you saw that, joon-ah.”

“i can’t believe you’re doing this to me,” namjoon says with an exasperated laugh, resigned to his fate as the seventh wheel, forever alone. he marches into yoongi’s bedroom and drags his hyungs in with him. “come on. let’s do this.”

“what—haha, what’s happening?” seokjin laughs nervously. “are we gonna have a threeway? because i really do have to get to the studio.”

namjoon situates himself, runs through talking points in his head, and ignores seokjin, who by the sound of it has just been smacked by yoongi.

“sit,” he says bluntly, and they both fall back onto the foot of the bed. namjoon pulls out a chair to sit facing them. “i’ll be quick. i know this is weird. you guys are my hyungs; what i know about life, i learned from you.”

seokjin wrings yoongi’s beanie in his hands, seeming unaware that he’s still holding it. yoongi tilts his head like he’s about to disagree, but namjoon doesn’t want this conversation to be any longer than it already has to be. he rushes to continue.

“you already know to be careful, and not tell anyone, and keep private matters separate from professional. you know it better than i do,” namjoon says. seokjin has schooled his expression to a politely neutral one, and yoongi is fixated on a spot on the carpet rather than namjoon. “so i won’t waste your time. how long has this been going on?”

seokjin opens his mouth, and meets yoongi’s gaze after hesitating. “i… don’t know how to answer that.”

“a while,” yoongi concurs, and his expression hardens. namjoon wants to press further, mostly out of curiosity, but he concedes.

“okay. good. you guys know what you’re doing. i won’t interfere or report you or tell the others—” and namjoon cuts himself off. “wait, do the others know?”

seokjin looks away with a comical, cartoonish look of innocence. guilt pinches yoongi’s eyebrows together, just slightly. “yes.”

namjoon heaves a quiet sigh. he’s never felt more out of place, like an imposter. who is he to lecture his hyungs about relationships? who is he to lead this group of seven, who evidently need him so little that they have all paired up into happy couples without him?

yoongi sits forward so namjoon can see him even with his head hung low.

“namjoon. excluding you was not personal or intentional. it’s just the way it happened,” yoongi says slowly, firmly. seokjin follows him, sits forward too and crosses his arms over his body.

“we all just… fell into each other. there was no rhyme or reason to it,” seokjin adds.

namjoon looks at them then.

he knows he’s good at controlling himself. he’s good at communicating a certain message with his words or voice or even his facial expression. so either they can read him so well they know what namjoon is feeling even when he’s trying not to let it show, or they’d long ago anticipated that namjoon would have this kind of petulant reaction. probably a combination of both.

the reality of how they perceive him terrifies him. he’s ashamed. this isn’t the way he should act, and it’s not the way he wants to be seen.

“as long as you’re happy—” namjoon begins.

“don’t do that,” seokjin says firmly. “don’t just push it away. we understand if you’re upset with us.”

“i don’t have the right to be upset with you,” namjoon says. “that’s not my job.”

“it’s nine thirty on a sunday morning. you’re not on the clock,” seokjin counters quickly, and namjoon absently thinks that seokjin must be late for his meeting.

“what do you want me to say? ‘how come didn’t you tell me earlier? were you ever gonna tell me? why did i have to find out by accident?’” what about me? his mind supplies, childishly, and he refrains from asking it aloud. “what good does it do to ask these questions? what’s done is done.”

namjoon can’t look at them. he’s indebted to all the members for countless reasons, but he really owes seokjin and yoongi so much. all that’s important is that they’re happy with each other. what he wants does not matter.

“i’m happy for you,” namjoon says then, when no one speaks, when no one can meet anyone else’s eye. he’s too serious, his voice too heavy and sad to match with the words that come out of his mouth.

he gets out of there as soon as he can, once yoongi and seokjin are ostensibly convinced he’s okay and they let him leave. he’s fine, he tells himself, and they don’t have rehearsal today so he spends most of the day sitting at his computer working, ignoring the ache in his chest, feeling inexplicably sad.

--

so, he’s the seventh wheel.

life goes on, namjoon decides. the situation is just a bit awkward. sometimes he has those pesky intrusive thoughts, nagging voices in the back of his mind that tell namjoon you don’t belong here, but the good thing about hating yourself is that it’s easy to tell yourself to shut up.

it’s not the members’ fault. they never make him feel like an outsider. sometimes his worries grow loud and never-ending, and there’s not much he can do to stop himself from being inundated.

amongst namjoon’s never-ending anxiety is a new brand of worries. it’s very minor, it’s barely a problem at first—sometimes he just notices tiny things, strange things, and it starts not long after namjoon finally finds out about everyone. about taehyung and jimin, hoseok and jungkook, seokjin and yoongi.

one day during rehearsal, seokjin and jungkook have a fight. not a real fight, of course, just a physical wrestling match, or a “duel to the death,” according to what jungkook shouted before jumping onto seokjin's back in an attempt to take the other down.

it’s typical behavior from them, so namjoon doesn’t bat an eye as he watches, amused, from across the dance studio while everyone else enjoys their five minute break normally.

the end of their playfighting is marked by a seokjin victory, and jungkook pinned to the wooden floor underneath him, wrists trapped in seokjin’s grasp. jungkook usually wins these things, so namjoon continues watching out of curiosity. he watches as jungkook catches his breath beneath seokjin, without pouting or calling a foul or otherwise being a sore loser. namjoon watches as jungkook happily accepts his defeat, and just looks up at seokjin with adoring eyes and a wide smile. he watches as jungkook giggles and gazes up at his hyung, who leans down and boops their noses together playfully. namjoon watches even though it feels like he shouldn’t be watching, even though it feels like he’s intruding on a private moment.

for a second, namjoon wants to remind his bandmates that just because they’ve all coupled up (without him) doesn’t mean they should be acting so blatantly mushy in public, and maybe they should save the couple-y PDA stuff for when they’re alone. and then namjoon remembers that seokjin and jungkook are not a couple.

namjoon glances across the room at yoongi, and then hoseok, and then seokjin and jungkook, and then the other dancers and choreographers. nobody seems to care or even notice what’s going on.

you’re overthinking it, namjoon thinks. let them have fun. this is the way things have always been between all of us.

and he lets it go.

a couple days later, jimin pops into the kitchen bright and early and asks for a phone charger. yoongi wordlessly unplugs his own and hands it over without bothering to look up from his food to even make eye contact with jimin.

“oh awesome you’re the best thanks hyung!” jimin says all at once, before swooping down to kiss yoongi on the cheek too fast for yoongi to protest. he dashes back out of the kitchen as quickly as he came in.

namjoon watches him leave and then looks at yoongi, expecting a scowl or a roll of his eyes or some kind of expression of mock disgust. yoongi usually has a no-bullshit policy before he has his morning coffee, and that blunt honesty can sometimes translate into prickly impatience.

instead, yoongi smiles down at his plate. it’s a cute, fond little smile that reaches his eyes more than his lips, but it’s definitely there.

namjoon squints, surprised, and forces himself to look away.

a few minutes later he’s walking down the hall back to his bedroom when he sees taehyung walking into the bathroom. the light is already on and the water is running, so taehyung says a quick greeting to let whoever’s showering know he’s there as he uncaps the toothpaste.

“hey hyung,” he says.

“morning, love,” hoseok replies from behind the shower curtain.

taehyung meets namjoon’s confused gaze in the mirror. he gently kicks the bathroom door closed with a carefully blank look on his face.

namjoon continues down the hall.

of course, they’re all close, they’ve been so close for years now. namjoon is no stranger to the platonic intimacy that has naturally grown over the years of the seven of them living together. but it’s like once he feels like something might be amiss, he can’t stop noticing it.

that thursday night jimin and seokjin order a ton of takeout, and everybody eventually wanders into the room to join in on their impromptu feast. jimin and seokjin, it seems, ordered a dessert for themselves, and feed each other crepe cake off their own forks.

only when namjoon scoots forward to let jungkook walk across the couch to steal some cake off jimin’s plate does namjoon really look around, and realize that none of the couples are even sitting together.

which on its own is fine. it’s a normal thing to happen; they’re not always going to be neatly paired off with each couple attached at the hip like the two-dimensional characters in a teen drama. they’re all mature adults and very good friends, the only thing that’s tangibly changed between them is who is sleeping with who.

the next week namjoon hurries right back out of taehyung’s room and closes the door behind him the moment he realizes that the lump underneath the covers is taehyung, yoongi, and jungkook, all piled together and sound asleep with their arms thrown over one another.

a few days later namjoon picks at his lunch, shamelessly eavesdropping while across the table, seokjin makes a flirty joke about hoseok that’s so funny that jimin doubles over in giggles, right into hoseok’s lap.

that evening taehyung walks briskly past namjoon and leans over the back of the couch to whisper something in seokjin’s ear on his way out of the living room. exactly five seconds after taehyung leaves, seokjin excuses himself, and says something about going to bed even though it’s only eight thirty.

late that night namjoon shuffles into the kitchen to find hoseok and yoongi seated at the table, eating a late dinner. hoseok must have dragged yoongi out of the studio to get some food into him, namjoon reasons. they both seem drained from a long day, and as hoseok feeds yoongi with his own chopsticks yoongi wraps his long fingers around hoseok’s and presses a sleepy kiss against hoseok’s wrist.

it’s not to say that namjoon never sees the couples together. but as weeks pass it seems like he catches every possible combination of the six of them together in some sort of soft and vulnerable or heated and intimate moment. realistically, he knows they’re a close group of friends, and none of what he’s seen is really out of the ordinary. but it still feels strange, and unsettling, as if none of them are paired up at all.

but that doesn’t quite make sense either, so the mystery and its accompanying feeling of uneasiness continue. there’s something namjoon’s heart knows that his brain simply hasn’t caught up to yet.

--

he doesn’t get much closer to the truth until one winter evening, when he’s in the common room replying to emails with hoseok reading a book beside him. somewhere in the dorms a door closes, and there’s faint singing echoing down the hallway, which means jungkook and jimin are back from the gym.

“—know every single lyric of every single iu song.” jimin’s voice grows louder as they presumably walk closer to the common area on their way to their rooms. there’s a teasing lilt in his voice that makes jungkook stop singing and gasp, offended.

“of course i do. and what about it?”

namjoon looks up as he listens to their loud conversation. he catches hoseok’s eye as he peeks over his book, and they both grin at their dongsaengs being silly and rowdy and blissfully unaware of the fact that their hyungs can hear them argue.

“you’re obsessed, that’s all,” jimin laughs.

“don’t be jealous, jimin-ssi,” jungkook says.

“how can i not be jealous of your first love?” jimin exclaims, and then starts to sing “ending scene” by iu melodramatically. “don’t say those words, please. you know those words hurt me even more.”

jimin’s voice bounces with each step as, by the sound of it, he starts to run down the hallway with jungkook chasing him.

“shut up, hyung!” jungkook yells, although he’s laughing merrily. “i like iu-sunbaenim a perfectly normal amount!”

“you said you would love me, so what is this?” jimin continues to sing despite jungkook’s protests, only stopping sheepishly when he finally gets to the threshold of the living room and sees namjoon and hoseok holding in giggles.

“don’t be so dramatic!” jungkook’s voice carries from down the hallway as he runs to catch up. “you of all people know my first love was—”

all at once, jimin whirls around with his hands flying up in a “time-out” gesture, jungkook cuts himself off when he makes eye contact with namjoon, and he runs right into jimin.

“oof—” jimin grunts as he nearly topples over. jungkook catches him around the waist and helps him right himself back up.

“sorry, hyung,” jungkook laughs breathlessly. “hey guys, we’re gonna hit the showers.”

hoseok blows a kiss to his boyfriend, who scrunches his nose fondly as he and jimin both smile and start to walk away.

“wait, wait, wait,” namjoon says. “your first love wasn’t iu?”

jungkook laughs loudly even as he glances at hoseok and visibly tries to shrink behind jimin. “no, it was, i was just lying before.”

“what?” namjoon says, laughing but skeptical. he doesn’t wanna be left out of the joke. he turns to hoseok, willing to bet jungkook’s boyfriend would spill the beans. “come on, you’d know. who was it?”

“oh, i don’t know,” hoseok says, in his special unique way of lying that makes it embarrassingly obvious that he’s lying.

“everyone else knows!” namjoon exclaims, and turns on jungkook. “tell me tell me tell me.”

“it’s nothing, it’s nobody,” jungkook says quickly.

“then what were you gonna say to jimin just now?”

“... i was going to say iron man.”

jimin and hoseok look back and forth between jungkook and namjoon like they’re watching an excellent tennis match.

“that’s such a lie!” namjoon exclaims in disbelief.

“it’s not!” jungkook replies.

“i honestly wouldn’t care if not for the fact that i’m apparently the only person who doesn’t know. come on, spill!” namjoon says.

“i don’t wanna say it!”

“why not? it’s just me!” namjoon says, and jungkook hesitates. jimin pats him on the shoulder and nudges him forward.

“well, yeah,” he finally says.

“what?” namjoon asks.

“it’s you. my first love was you.”

with three sets of unblinking eyes fixed on him, all namjoon can do is gape at jungkook, disbelief and one million questions running through his mind.

“me?”

“years ago,” jungkook says quietly.

“you liked me?” namjoon asks slowly. in his peripheral vision he sees hoseok shift in his seat.

“are you serious?” hoseok asks namjoon, and a nervous giggle escapes jimin.

“you—i—he told you?” namjoon stammers, and turns to look at hoseok.

“i mean, yeah.” hoseok shifts again, uncomfortable. “but it’s not like he had to. it was so obvious. no offense, love.”

jungkook shrugs it off, like it’s fine, like he agrees, like it’s common knowledge that he had a crush on namjoon.

“when?” namjoon can’t help but ask.

“i mean, i always thought you were cool,” jungkook begins slowly, and, okay. namjoon knew that much, at least. “and i get crushes fast, so i had kind of a little crush on you when i first joined. but my crushes usually go away with time, and with you it just grew.”

“when you first joined?” namjoon repeats, his head beginning to hurt. he thinks about the painfully shy boy he’d met all those years ago, the kid who stared at him with huge eyes full of wonder and nervousness.

“yeah,” jungkook says. “it wasn’t a big deal at first. but before i knew it i was catching myself in the middle of daydreams about you, or itching to be closer to you, or thinking about a future where you were there. not just in terms of the band or our careers. more than that. i wanted you. i’d fallen in love with you.”

the idea of jungkook having ever been in love with namjoon is completely insane. all the little things that helped jungkook come to terms with his feelings made sense, but they didn’t necessarily mean love.

“that doesn’t mean you were in love with me, you just, you admired me,” namjoon argues weakly. jimin gives him a skeptical look.

“you should have seen the way he looked at you, or heard the way he talked about you. it was like you hung the fuckin’ stars in the sky.”

namjoon’s jaw snaps shut. he looks at hoseok, jungkook’s boyfriend, expecting awkward discomfort or maybe even hostility, and sees only gentle amusement. “but then…”

“i fell for hobi-hyung over time. he was easy to love, it was just like coming home,” jungkook says quietly, with a fond smile for hoseok. namjoon finds himself nodding subconsciously. “but i had always loved you.”

jimin steps forward. “hyung—”

“jimin-ah,” hoseok says, and jimin’s face falls. there’s something unreadable in his expression, something that hoseok ignores and namjoon can’t interpret at all. “the others will be home soon. you two should go shower.”

jungkook and jimin silently file out of the room. namjoon stares uselessly after them with an inexplicable ache in his heart.

“i didn’t know,” namjoon murmurs quietly. he’s spent the vast majority of the past decade with jungkook and had no idea that his feelings were anything more than respect and friendship. he’d hugged him, complimented him, praised his physique to millions of their fans, and practically led him on. he was only trying to convey love and affection, in all their hurried text exchanges and late nights in the studio and headpats of reassurance, but he’d inadvertently caused jungkook pain. “i didn’t know.”

“it’s okay,” hoseok says sympathetically, although it does little to alleviate the devastating guilt in namjoon’s gut. “you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“i feel like i failed him,” namjoon confesses before he can stop himself or filter his thoughts, as if hoseok has opened a dam. “i should have known, right? it’s crazy that i didn’t know, hob-ah. i’m supposed to protect him, and i caused him pain instead.”

“he doesn’t need protecting,” hoseok says firmly, a gentle hand on namjoon’s arm. “he’s not a kid anymore. he felt the way he felt, and he doesn’t blame you for any part of it because none of it was your responsibility. he’s not your responsibility.”

“then why do i feel like this?” namjoon asks, feeling desperate as the ache in his chest grows. he’s latching onto hoseok for an explanation, searching in his eyes for the truth. but hoseok looks just as lost as he feels, unable to respond for a moment.

“you didn’t do anything wrong,” hoseok says in lieu of an answer. he puts his arm around namjoon’s shoulders and namjoon lets himself get pulled in, tucked in small against someone he’s supposed to be bigger than. “we feel the way we feel.”

we feel the way we feel.

hoseok’s words run through namjoon’s mind much later that night as he zips down the bike path, hidden in a face mask and a baseball cap and a sweater that he feels like he’s drowning in.

he rubs a hand absently on his own chest, as if that could alleviate the dull ache in his heart, and thinks back on the years he’s spent with bangtan.

loss, namjoon thinks nonsensically. he aches with loss, that’s what that feeling in his chest is.

but loss of what? nothing’s changed. so jungkook used to have a crush on him. he didn’t lose anything.

loss of what could have been, namjoon’s mind supplies again, rather unhelpfully.

maybe, on some nights, in namjoon’s darkest moments, he lets himself feel jealousy. maybe he’s bitter that he’s the only person out of the seven of them who is single. maybe sometimes he wishes he had someone the way they all do.

but it’s not like jungkook’s old crush should make namjoon feel loss. namjoon is simply a role model to him, he’s said so himself. a hyung to look up to, a leader to follow. jungkook has sacrificed too much, trusted namjoon too blindly, for namjoon to violate the nature of their relationship by thinking of him in this way. besides, jungkook found a home in hoseok, safety and love that they provided for each other. namjoon is happy they’re happy together. they fit together remarkably well.

but what could have been? namjoon’s traitorous brain wonders. if jungkook had ever confessed his feelings to namjoon, how would namjoon had responded? he’s not boyfriend material like hoseok, who is unendingly patient and sweet and endearing and observant and good. would namjoon have been able to make jungkook feel seen, and loved? would he have been able to make jungkook happy?

he would have wanted to, namjoon knows. whatever choices he would have made would be to make jungkook happy. mostly for jungkook’s sake, partly out of fear of losing him.

he would have wanted to be good to jungkook. which, he supposes, means he would have responded to jungkook’s confession with a confession of his own.

it’s a strange thing, discovering one’s own feelings retrospectively.

we feel the way we feel.

namjoon bikes on, strangled breaths fighting their way out of his chest. he loved jungkook? no, he loves jungkook. right now. he loves jungkook?

but he loves all of them. of course he loves them. he loves the six of them so much sometimes it feels like he might burst with it, just during brief moments in his day-to-day life. when he watches them work on a new song or dance and is struck with awe like it’s the first time he’s witnessing their talent all over again. when he shows up late to a schedule and walks through the door to see the six people he loves most turn in quick succession and welcome him with teasing jabs and warm smiles. he loves them all, equally and differently, in complicated and unending ways. the way he feels about jungkook is unique but not different in quantity. so he can’t possibly have feelings for jungkook. he feels about jungkook the way he feels about the rest of them.

and then namjoon thinks of each of them, of seokjin and yoongi and hoseok and jimin and taehyung and jungkook, separately and then all together. he thinks of the rush of relief he feels when he walks in a room and counts seven including himself.

we feel the way we feel, hoseok had said, and namjoon has always felt so much. too much, maybe.

it’s simple logical reasoning, actually. the news of jungkook’s old crush makes namjoon’s heart ache so badly because namjoon has loved him, for all these years. and if he’s in love with jungkook, then he’s in love with all of them.

namjoon pedals on, his heart hammering furiously in his chest, grateful that he’s alone with the night and the gentle lull of the river because there are tears welling up in his eyes.

he loves them. he’s in love with them.

what a mess.

--

the first time he thought of the word “love” to describe how he felt about one of the others was before their debut, when yoongi found him napping in his studio, saved his work for him, and left a note, gently urging him to come home. namjoon has never felt such anger towards a single person as he did towards yoongi in their early years, annoyed spats often escalating into infuriated screaming matches. but he’d also never felt such love as he felt towards yoongi, and that was the beginning. he had never felt such pride in watching someone else succeed, adoration in seeing them laugh, shyness at being seen by them. it was new and terrifying and beautiful with yoongi, and he just hadn’t known it was love.

he thinks the next person he fell for was seokjin. seokjin seemed uncomplicated, an impenetrable outer layer of politeness and humor shielding him from the brutal reality of their trainee and post-debut lives. when seokjin first let namjoon in, there was strength in his vulnerability and eloquence in his failure, and namjoon never forgot it. he sat at the table talking about love with someone who he wanted desperately to know more about, and he was glad to love seokjin. he just hadn’t known what kind of love he was feeling.

taehyung must have been next, then. young and raw taehyung who helped him when namjoon didn’t even know he needed help. taehyung climbed fast and felt everything so intensely that sometimes namjoon would catch his eye while they rehearsed and he could almost feel the heat of the fire in taehyung’s eyes. namjoon fell for the way taehyung burned, wildly and recklessly, or steady and low with gentle warmth in the grip of possessive hands.

next was jimin. jimin was painful fragility and brutal strength. he was everything that was asked of him and none of the above, and he’d helped namjoon accept imperfection as an old companion rather than an opponent. namjoon must have fallen that night they’d written disorganized lyrics, bleeding across the pages together, and he felt another tug at his heartstrings years later when he gave jimin guidance with promise. he didn’t know what it was at the time, but he felt it all the same.

then it was hoseok, who hadn’t given him one moment of falling but rather a series of memories, gentle and lovely, and namjoon fell in love so slowly it was easy to miss because he was too busy chasing the other around with matching grins on their faces. hoseok was outer space, awe-inspiring and mysterious yet comforting all the same. he had a gravitational pull, a magnetic touch, a solar smile. namjoon couldn’t help but fall for the way that hoseok stretched across his dark sky and filled it with stars.

and lastly, jungkook. jungkook, who fell hard and fast with every fiber of his being. jungkook had always looked at namjoon like he hung the stars in the sky, which, if namjoon is being honest, he kind of always knew. and namjoon had blundered on, missing the way jungkook had loved him, missing his chance entirely with one of the six people who he loves from the deepest and most private corners of his heart. and now namjoon is an old bachelor surrounded by three happy couples, furiously in love with each one of them in their own way, maybe worst of all longing after the boy who’d met him at thirteen and staked his whole life on him. they all had.

what a mess.

--

life goes on even though namjoon’s world has been turned upside down. the universe, cold and calculating and inconsiderate of one of the biggest personal revelations he’s ever had, keeps throwing curveballs directly at namjoon’s face.

“come watch with us.”

namjoon looks up from his phone to see seokjin, hoseok, and jungkook piled onto the couch. the voice that had spoken belonged to yoongi, and it takes him a moment to look closer and realize that yoongi is almost completely underneath jungkook, who is perched happily on his lap.

“i think i’m gonna turn in, actually,” namjoon says, and stretches into a fake yawn that his body turns into a real yawn.

“it’s only nine,” seokjin points out. “can you really say no to that face?”

he points at yoongi, whose face is almost completely hidden by jungkook, but his wide eyes peek out from behind his shoulder underneath a mess of blonde hair.

namjoon is a weak man, and that’s why he agrees, and ends up fifth wheeling. he spends the whole movie watching hoseok play with yoongi’s fingers, yoongi nuzzle against jungkook’s neck, and jungkook stick his feet underneath seokjin’s thighs.

it still feels weird to namjoon, how close everyone is in spite of the established couples. something doesn’t sit right in namjoon’s stomach, even when seokjin pulls him close and leans his head on namjoon’s shoulder, even when the sound of their breathing lulls him to sleep.

jimin and taehyung must have stayed late at the dance studio, because the next morning jimin is so tired jungkook has to give him a piggyback ride just to coax him out of bed, and seokjin spoonfeeds taehyung his breakfast, which makes hoseok coo and take a picture.

“our handsome baby,” jimin murmurs, and yoongi huffs a quiet giggle at taehyung’s sleepy pout that damn near makes namjoon cry.

it’s not just distant jealousy, he knows now. he loves them all, and so deeply. and they love each other so much and so well. it makes him happy, in a delirious, heartache-y way, and he can only take so much.

he sniffles quietly, puts his dish away, and leaves the room before he bursts with a cascade of confessions or tears.

--

since seokjin first brought it up months ago, everyone has, at some point or another, offered to set namjoon up. at first it was funny, and then it was funny but kind of annoying. by now an irrational part of namjoon hates it, feeling like they just feel bad that they’re all so happy in their respective relationships and namjoon is the sad odd man out.

it stings particularly badly when jungkook suggests that some of them take namjoon to a gay bar in itaewon. the idea of the maknae, their baby, pitying him, feeling bad just because namjoon is a disaster who fell for him and their other five bandmates, is humiliating. he snaps.

“you don’t need to do that,” he says, harshly enough that it gives jungkook pause, and he closes the fridge door to give namjoon his undivided attention.

“i just think—” jungkook begins calmly, but namjoon feels hot with embarrassment. he slaps his palms down on the kitchen counter, shame and jealousy bubbling inside him and threatening to overflow.

“just because you’re dating hobi, and jin-hyung is dating yoongi-hyung, and jimin is dating taehyung, doesn’t mean you all have to feel bad for me, and try to set me up with someone. i’m doing just fine on my own,” namjoon says. “what, you think i need to be in a relationship?”

“no, of course not,” jungkook says defensively, but his voice breaks with the force of it and the fire in namjoon’s belly dies.

“i mean—i’m sorry. i know you’re just trying to do a nice thing,” he says quickly, feeling more and more guilty as jungkook refuses to make eye contact. “but i don’t need to be in a relationship to be happy.”

jungkook’s brow furrows as he stares hard down at the floor, and namjoon fears the worst.

“i’m sorry, jungkook-ah, please don’t cry,” he says gently.

“i’m not going to cry,” jungkook scoffs, incredulous, looking up so suddenly that namjoon can’t mask his surprise. “i’m not sad, i’m annoyed at you. why are you shutting us out? how many times have you pulled one of us aside to tell us to talk about our problems instead of keeping them bottled up?”

namjoon recoils, defensive and shocked.

“it’s not like that, it’s just that—i’m your hyung, and i’m the leader, and you’re the maknae. you saying stuff like that, it makes me feel coddled. and pitied. it’s just complicated, okay? and it’s not something you can fix, anyways.”

“i’m not trying to fix anything,” jungkook says gently. “i want to help, that’s what friends do. yeah, i’m the maknae, but i’m your friend too, remember?”

“jungkook-ah, i don’t want to be a burden,” namjoon sighs.

“asking for help doesn’t mean you’re a burden,” jungkook replies. but it’s really not that simple. if namjoon has been shut off, it’s just because he’s trying to hide his unrequited, awkward, terrible, gross feelings from everyone. that’s not exactly something he can unload on anyone else, least of all jungkook, who namjoon has known ever since jungkook was a tiny doe-eyed child, who namjoon is terrible for even having feelings for to begin with.

“doesn’t it?” namjoon laughs desperately.

“no,” jungkook says, each word heavy on his lips. “you’ve always helped each of us, whenever we needed it. i’m trying to be here for you, the way you were always there for me.”

“yeah, it was my job,” namjoon scoffs. “i’m the leader.”

“yeah, but you’re not just the leader,” jungkook says.

“i’m leader first, jungkook,” namjoon says firmly, feeling more and more like he’s boarded himself up in his own coffin by falling for the innocent boy who he’d first met at thirteen, along with all their wonderful friends, none of whom asked to be loved by their lonely leader who they trusted so much. “i’m the leader first, before anything else.”

“no, you’re not,” jungkook insists, getting louder as he grows impatient. “every time you helped us, in all these years, was that only because you were the leader? are we just colleagues? am i one of your responsibilities? am i just a burden to you?”

“no! you’re my friend,” namjoon says quickly, taken aback.

“but a burden first. a burden, before anything else,” jungkook says matter-of-factly, and namjoon shakes his head, distressed.

“no, of course not, you’re my friend, you’re family to me.”

“so act like it.” and then jungkook smiles a little, solid and reassuring but also a little smug, like he knows he’s right and that namjoon will have to admit he’s right, too.

he stares him down until namjoon blinks, and the tension breaks.

“i’m sorry,” he sighs, feeling his resolve crack. he’s not used to being yelled at. “i shouldn’t have shut you out.”

jungkook laughs, a little shy again, in spite of everything. “i’m sorry i yelled at you.”

“i’m sorry i thought you were gonna cry,” namjoon counter-apologizes.

“that’s okay, i’m gonna cry later,” jungkook says, a little embarrassed and blushing but genuine nonetheless, and namjoon pulls him by the shoulder into a hug.

he indulges in a moment of selfishness. one of jealousy, and bitterness, and loneliness, and jungkook’s arms wrapped around him, his hand stroking namjoon’s back like a quiet reminder that he’s there and they’re together and he’s not going anywhere.

“we’re here for you, just as much as you’re there for us,” jungkook murmurs then, his voice melodic as always in namjoon’s ear. it’s easier to hear such things with their faces hidden in each other’s embrace. “whether you like it or not, okay? trust goes two ways.”

namjoon’s heart aches. the guilt has eased, and now that he doesn’t feel as awful for crushing on his bandmates and particularly jungkook, all that’s left is aching loneliness. he’s happy they’ve found their person, paired up neatly together, but it leaves him alone. terrifyingly alone, held together by his bandmates, longing for more than stolen hugs against the kitchen counter at midnight.

“love you,” namjoon says, because it really is easy to talk to jungkook when they’re not looking at one another. “love you all, so much.”

jungkook tucks his face in the crook of namjoon’s neck, nuzzling his nose against the warmth there, and namjoon knows it means that he is loved back.

--

so there's no more guilt. namjoon watches the three youngest members talk and argue and dance and laugh and doesn't feel guilty anymore for loving them the way he does, just aches with sadness and loss of what maybe could have been. but he's happy for them, he's happy for all six of them, and he's happy with all six of them even knowing that at the end of the day they've found a partner in amongst each other and he is alone.

he still sometimes notices strange little phenomena. he doesn't want to notice it, but when it's late or early and he's tired and his guard is down he just can't help but notice it.

once, late at night, taehyung comes out of yoongi's studio with the drawstrings of his hoodie pulled tight and what looks to be either a hickey or a suspiciously hickey-looking rash on his neck. jungkook and seokjin come home from the gym one night all flushed and sweaty even though namjoon knows for a fact that it's jungkook's rest day. one morning namjoon goes around making sure everyone is awake and getting ready for their schedule, and sees jimin and hoseok leaving their bedroom together, rubbing their eyes and stretching as the morning sun streams through the window. namjoon catches a glimpse of their room as he walks by and sees that only hoseok's bed was slept in. jimin's is neatly made. his phone is even on hoseok's nightstand.

namjoon doesn't have time to dwell on such perplexing mysteries, so he rounds everyone up and they leave in two cars for their schedule and he forgets about the weirdness once again.

but it all builds up in the back of his mind, accumulating like sand at the bottom of an hourglass, and one day it all comes to head.

it's winter again, and they get a bit more downtime now that end-of-the year award shows have come and gone. so on a quiet evening, namjoon finishes at the studio earlier than he'd planned. he walks down the hall to his bedroom, slippers warm in spite of the cold wooden floor, deep in thought about a song he's working on when he hears hushed talking around the corner.

namjoon impulsively stops in his tracks at the sound of the conversation in the next room. the voices are low, too low for him to be able to discern the owners or the conversation topic, but the atmosphere suddenly seems too serious. it's important and secretive enough for whoever it is to be hissing and whispering at each other.

as he debates between leaving to respect the members' privacy and walking in to make sure everyone is okay, namjoon finds himself straining his ears to hear better. it's definitely two people talking over each other, that much he can tell. during a brief lull in the conversation he hears a "tsk"—that's hoseok, he's almost sure of it.

what are hoseok and someone else talking about that seems so grave and secretive?

and then there's jimin's voice, no longer whispering but still strained, and distressed.

"i don't feel good about him not knowing," jimin says.

namjoon can almost hear alarms go off in his head, alarms that he's had his hand hovering over ever since he first found out that he had bandmates sleeping together, years ago. something is seriously wrong, he's sure of it, and it would explain so much.

jimin and hoseok must be having some kind of an affair. jimin must be feeling guilty, about keeping it from his boyfriend, taehyung.

although, that doesn't explain all the out-of-place PDA he's noticed between other members. and he really doesn't think any of his friends are the type to cheat.

it's a deeply flawed theory, namjoon knows, even as he's actively storming into the room to confront them. but it's the first one that's popped into his head, and he acts before he can think.

he marches into the room, ready to tell jimin and hoseok off for cheating or lying or doing whatever it is that they're doing, and is instead met with all six of his bandmates, sitting around the couch, all in varying states of distress. jimin is sitting soundly in taehyung's lap.

"namjoon-ah!" yoongi yells out loudly and so suddenly it startles jungkook, who, along with the rest of them, is facing away and doesn't see namjoon walk in.

"hi!" "namjoon-ah!" "you're home early, hyung!"

there's a chorus of greetings from everyone as namjoon waves, a little stunned and very confused. everyone shifts around, jungkook uncrossing and recrossing his legs on the couch and hoseok adjusting his hair underneath his cap.

namjoon hovers in the doorway, his arms hanging awkwardly as his sides now. what the hell is going on? why is there a team meeting going on without him? why is everyone acting so friendly? why are all his friends so bad at lying?

"the vibe in here is super weird," seokjin says after a beat of silence, and jimin giggles nervously.

"um, what's going on?" namjoon asks, feeling childish and increasingly useless as everyone looks at each other, nobody willing to speak up.

yoongi sighs.

"okay," he says, and beckons namjoon over. he gets up and gestures grandly at his empty seat, and goes to join the others on the couch. everyone scoots down to make room for him, and namjoon takes the chair that yoongi left behind.

“what’s going on?” he asks again, once he gathers the nerve. he’s not clueless; there’s something wrong. and whatever it is, it’s been going on for a long while. it’s about time they looped him in.

namjoon doesn’t realize what yoongi’s doing until taehyung speaks up, prompted by yoongi’s hand reaching around hoseok to touch his shoulder.

“the whole thing?” taehyung asks, hesitant.

they all exchange glances. namjoon sees the anxiety building in his chest on their faces, too.

“from the beginning,” yoongi agrees. he, seokjin, and hoseok seem tense, frozen with their lips pursed and jaws clenched. jimin, taehyung, and jungkook are nothing but nervous energy.

“one day, the year we debuted, jimin and i kissed,” taehyung says, wringing his hands until jimin gives him his own hand for taehyung to squeeze. namjoon had a vague sense of this, but he’s never explicitly asked about how their relationship began. “it was the month we debuted—that same week, actually. back then, we didn’t have a name for what we were. it was us, together. that’s all we needed to know.”

“that year yoongi and i slept together,” seokjin says, staring at the floor, the corners of his mouth twitching up in spite of himself. “we weren’t together. feelings, and commitment, it was all too much. we didn’t talk about it, so we acted like everything was okay, because it was. we kept letting it happen. but we weren’t together, or exclusive.”

“which is how i got caught in the middle,” hoseok says, and namjoon furrows his brow. he had expected hoseok to chime in with the story of how he and jungkook became an item, but—this?

“the middle?” namjoon asks. maybe he’s misunderstood.

“of seokjin-hyung and me,” yoongi says, nodding. “pretty soon we realized we had all hooked up at one point or another.”

“looking back, the solution seems so obvious,” seokjin says with a dry laugh. “but back then we were so resentful, and angry, and we refused to talk about it to each other so it just kept happening. we made a mess of our feelings and it got worse and worse, until it felt unfixable. i don’t know what we would have done if the three of you hadn’t come along.”

seokjin glances at the three youngest members.

“you know i crush easy,” jungkook says suddenly, and namjoon feels himself nodding. “a few years ago i started liking jimin and taehyungie-hyung. so i wanted to spend more time with the two of them, and talk with them, and i just started paying more attention to them than i did before. pretty soon i found out they were together, and when i did i asked to be a part of it. and they said yes.”

“enthusiastically,” taehyung adds, and jimin and jungkook smile fondly.

“a—a part of it? what does that mean?” asks namjoon. his head is spinning, partially because of the information dump and partially because he’s trying to look at everyone to understand what’s going on. the fond intimacy between taehyung, jimin, and jungkook, the solemn expressions on yoongi’s and seokjin’s faces, and the lack of animosity or any reaction at all from hoseok, jungkook’s current boyfriend, are all making namjoon more and more confused by the second.

“a part of it, as in, us,” jimin says simply. there’s kind patience in his eyes as he looks at namjoon and interlocks his fingers with jungkook on one side, taehyung on the other. “together.”

“the three of you,” namjoon says, waiting to be corrected.

“yes,” jungkook says instead, and namjoon can’t help but look straight at hoseok now, a look of bewilderment on his face.

“a while after that, jungkook and i ended up rooming together at a hotel for a weekend while we were on tour,” hoseok explains quickly. “we kissed. i was so used to bottling things up, so that was the first time i actually confronted my feelings about… any of this.”

“you told me that things were complicated, and you didn’t want anyone to get hurt, and you didn’t really know how you felt,” jungkook recalls. “but you also said the kiss didn’t mean nothing. that’s all i needed to know. i liked you too, by then. all three of us did—we had talked about it before.”

hoseok smiles gently, like it’s something he’s heard often but likes to hear again anyways.

“while that was happening, jimin and i were assigned to the hotel room next door,” taehyung says to namjoon, laughing a bit at the memory. “that was the day you accidentally found out about us. it solidified something for all of us, in different ways.”

“yeah,” says jimin, who is still on taehyung’s lap. he leans back against taehyung’s chest. “it took a lot of talking, between the four of us. by the end of it, hobi-hyung joined us.”

“the four of you?” namjoon asks, pointing four fingers at them and two fingers on the other hand at seokjin and yoongi, in a crude attempt at trying to follow along with their complicated history.

“yeah,” hoseok says softly. he looks nervous; the six of them, really, stare at namjoon with wide eyes, waiting for his reaction.

“that… explains a lot,” namjoon says. all the moments he’s caught taehyung, jimin, jungkook, and hoseok together, in strange pairings or trios or the four of them, make sense now. they aren’t two couples, they’re one relationship with four people. “i thought i was going crazy. thank you all for telling me, sincerely—”

“there’s more,” yoongi says gently, and namjoon falls silent. “i think you know that.”

it’s bold of yoongi to assume that namjoon knows anything at all, considering all these complicated relationships were unfolding in the group while their leader was none the wiser. but he lets the story continue.

“there was a lot to talk about, when hobi-hyung first joined us,” jungkook says. “but he joined on the condition of honesty, and so it ended up working out.”

“he was scared to tell us about everything that happened between him and seokjin-hyung and yoongi-hyung,” jimin says. “he still had feelings for both of them, and he worried that if he told us he might lose all of us at once.”

“but instead they told me they felt the same way i did,” hoseok says quietly, reverently. “that it was okay, and as long as we loved each other, they wanted to be together. so then it was the four of us together, loving each other but also seokjin-hyung and yoongi-hyung too.”

“all of you?” asks namjoon, although he’s beginning to understand already.

“yeah,” taehyung says. “we loved them too, and talked about asking them to join us. it was just a fantasy, at first. we were too scared.”

“back then i was always so worried about the worst case scenario,” jungkook says, smiling to namjoon as he commiserates. “when you walked in on me and hobi-hyung together, i thought it was for sure over. that whatever we built was gonna come crashing down. but you were kind, and smart, and good, and every bit the leader you were supposed to be. you assumed hobi-hyung and i were a couple, and we didn’t correct you. and by the end of it, i was tired of waiting. i was done with pining, and being scared. i wanted to talk to jin-hyung and yoongi-hyung.”

“he talked us into it quick,” taehyung says, jimin nodding on his lap. “jimin and i are practically an old married couple, compared to the rest of you. we knew each other’s hearts. we knew what we wanted.”

“but i was new to the relationship. i was fragile, and damaged, and so i was scared,” hoseok says, and although taehyung looks like he wants to disagree he holds his tongue and settles for leaning his head on hoseok’s shoulder. “i was prepared to bury all those feelings, and never act on them. things with seokjin-hyung and yoongi-hyung were tense, i didn’t wanna risk it all blowing up.”

“you make us sound like a trainwreck,” yoongi deadpans, and seokjin scoffs.

“yeah, we weren’t that bad,” seokjin pipes up. some of the others give him a look that namjoon is too overwhelmed to even try to interpret, but seokjin only rolls his eyes in response. “it was mostly fine.”

“basically,” yoongi says to namjoon, putting one gentle hand on seokjin’s in a loving way of saying shut up. “we were good on paper. good friends and bandmates, closer than ever. we just also happened to be hooking up occasionally. when hoseok dropped out of our… arrangement—”

yoongi says the word delicately, although it makes some of the others snicker.

“he didn’t tell us why, and hyung and i both felt the loss. but it also made things a bit less complicated,” yoongi says. seokjin turns his hand over to grasp yoongi’s. “so it was easy to let things remain unspoken, and to just be friends with benefits and act like everything was fine the way it was.”

“sometimes i wondered, what if?” seokjin adds. “but i never said anything. i didn’t want to risk getting rejected, or worse, trying to be together and damaging each other beyond repair.”

“hyung,” yoongi murmurs, and seokjin lets go of his hand to wrap his arm around yoongi’s waist.

“we were dumb,” seokjin says simply, apologetic, in yoongi’s direction. then he turns back to namjoon. “anyways, it was when we had one day off and you spontaneously decided to visit home. after you left for ilsan, yoongi and i were gonna get a hotel room, but we got in a fight and i came back early. these four were on the couch, in our shared living space—”

seokjin’s voice turns dramatically accusing. jungkook, taehyung, jimin, and hoseok all protest, trying and failing to speak over one another.

“just kissing! fully clothed!” “we never had alone time!” “it’s not like we were doing anything!” “yeah, as if you of all people care about preserving the sanctity of our shared living space.”

as namjoon watches them bicker and share inside jokes and hit each other and cuddle closer on the couch that the six of them are squished into, he feels a familiar sense of heartache, multiplied tenfold because he thinks he knows how this story is going to end.

“anyways!” seokjin exclaims, and everyone refocuses on him. “i walked in on the four of them. they told me they were dating, and started explaining everything to me, and in the middle of it, yoongi called me, angry and drunk off his ass and calling me every name in the book. jungkook and i went to go pick him up, and when we came back we all made sure he was okay, together. it took all of us to put him to bed because he was being incredibly difficult—”

“i had good reason,” yoongi grumbles.

“yes, dear,” seokjin says quickly. “after i tucked him in i got up and i just saw a look on jungkook’s face. i mean, the look was on everyone’s face, but jungkook’s eyes are just so easy to read.”

jungkook opens his mouth like he’s about to protest, but jimin pats his hand sweetly. “we love your big anime eyes, baby,” jimin says, and jungkook pouts but lets seokjin continue.

“he looked at yoongi like he was in love with him. the same way that i looked at yoongi. it was the same way i saw jungkook looking at the others that day, the same way he looked at taehyung when i first walked in and saw them kissing. the same way he looked at me, even. the same way he looked at you, namjoon.”

namjoon starts, and although his world is already spinning wildly out of control his stomach flips too. “me?”

“remember, all those years ago? he was so cute back then,” seokjin says, his words heavy with nostalgia. namjoon flinches at the reminder of the chance at love that he lost.

“so we all left yoongi-hyung’s room,” hoseok says, continuing the story. “and seokjin-hyung asked us, point blank, if we loved him and yoongi-hyung the way we loved each other.”

“my heart nearly fell out of my ass,” jimin mutters, and namjoon can’t help the smile that cracks through his stony expression.

“we had no way out,” taehyung sympathizes. “we didn’t wanna lie to hyung’s face, but we couldn’t tell him the truth because we weren’t all ready.”

“because i wasn’t ready,” hoseok corrects. “but i couldn’t put the others through more than i already had. we all just looked at each other in silence, for probably way too long—”

“which was an answer to my question, in itself,” seokjin points out.

“—so i told him the truth,” hoseok says. “i said yes.”

“the next morning i woke up with a hangover and everybody piled in my room, snoring away,” yoongi says, looking fondly at the others before turning to namjoon. “by the time you got back that day i had no hangover, but five boyfriends.”

“that was almost a year ago,” seokjin finishes quietly.

the six of them, together. this explains all the weird moments that he’s caught everybody in, all the times he’s noticed PDA between a nonsensical combination of members with each other. they’re not just coupled up with each other, but all dating one another, in one big happy relationship, without namjoon. he’d probably feel pretty left out even if he weren’t hopelessly in love with the six of them.

he’s had a couple minutes to school his reaction once he guessed how the story would turn out, but he still has to hold his breath for a moment, fighting to stay calm and not get visibly upset.

“the six of you.” namjoon’s voice sounds hoarse, uneasy. “that’s amazing. really, from the bottom of my heart, congratulations, i’m happy for—”

“don’t say that,” jimin interrupts, frustrated.

“at least say you’re mad that we didn’t tell you for so long,” taehyung says.

“i’m not mad, of course i’m not mad,” namjoon laughs, because the only thing stronger than his instinct to smile right now is his urge to cry.

“hyung, come on,” jungkook says, genuine annoyed at seeing namjoon act unaffected. namjoon thinks back to their conversation, and how jungkook told him to stop thinking of himself as just the group leader, to stop shutting himself off when things get hard.

“okay, you know what?” namjoon mutters, looking down at his hands because he knows all eyes are on him. “i’m kind of mad. you never told me any of this. the story you just told me started when we debuted. for the past seven years, one way or another, you’ve all been the ones shutting me out.”

“that’s why we wanted to tell you the whole story, hyung,” jimin says, quickly distressed. “so you’d know how it happened.”

“it was a gradual thing, over the years,” yoongi adds. “we all just happened to join the relationship, by chance, by luck. we really did fall into each other, like jin-hyung and i told you.”

excluding you was not personal or intentional. it’s just the way it happened, yoongi had said, when namjoon had first found out about them, and thought they were a couple.

we all just fell into each other. there was no rhyme or reason to it, seokjin had said.

namjoon clenches his jaw. he knows they’re right, and he can’t blame them for finding love in one another. he can’t blame them for leaving him out.

“that’s why we kept trying to set you up,” seokjin says, a bit awkwardly. “sorry about that, by the way. i never got the chance to apologize to you.”

“we’re all sorry,” jimin chimes in. “we just wanted to see you happy.”

“because you were all together? you didn’t have to feel bad for being happy with each other,” namjoon says gently, his wounded heart weeping in his chest.

“we wanted you to find someone you’d like,” hoseok explains gently. “we were all together, without you… it felt wrong.”

“don’t feel bad,” namjoon says firmly. “as long as you’re all happy together. your happiness is all that matters.”

“what about your happiness?” taehyung asks, his voice quiet.

namjoon looks at the six of them. six sets of sad eyes blink back at him.

this is his family. these are his best friends and closest companions and perfect teammates, and they are his found family, whether he likes it or not. most days, he likes it. even on days like this, when they’re actively tearing his heart out of his chest without meaning to, he likes it—he loves it. he loves them.

“i’m looking at it,” namjoon answers honestly.

it’s silent for a long moment, then. there’s only jaws clenching and teeth grinding and lips being pursed together and no other movement of any kind until—

jungkook puts his head in his hands, sniffles, and starts to cry.

“hey,” taehyung whispers, and jimin slides off his lap to hug jungkook close.

“none of that,” jimin murmurs, and whispers quiet, soothing words in jungkook’s ear as taehyung cradles his face in his hands, and the youngest inhales shakily and wipes at tears that keep coming.

“jungkook-ah, please don’t feel bad, i really am happy for you all, i promise,” namjoon says desperately, sitting on the edge of his seat and gripping his knees to fight the urge to try to comfort him. nobody pays him any mind.

“okay,” hoseok says quietly, looking at yoongi with a pained expression on his face. “it’s—it’s time.”

yoongi nods, deliberates, and turns to seokjin on his other side. “hyung?”

seokjin hesitates and looks at the three maknaes, huddled closely together as jungkook is shushed and hugged by jimin and taehyung. he turns to yoongi. “yeah.”

namjoon watches, lost, as his three hyungs look to him.

yoongi takes a deep, steadying breath.

“there’s more?” namjoon asks, still lost, confused, and a tiny part of him flickering to life. hope, maybe, or the audacity of it.

yoongi nods, and as he begins to speak the others give him their attention, jimin’s fingers in jungkook’s hair and taehyung’s hand splayed on his thigh.

“uh, they were always braver than us,” yoongi begins, confidence a bit shaken in the silence. he nods in the maknaes’ direction. “they don’t deserve to suffer because of us.”

“suffer how?” namjoon asks and yoongi struggles with the words again.

“they wanted to tell you. they’ve wanted it ever since we all came together. but the three of us didn’t. i think… we did damage each other, a bit,” yoongi says with a dry chuckle, and although he’s staring at his lap, namjoon knows he’s talking about the three hyungs, and their complicated history.

“we were used to being scared,” seokjin says. “and we’re healing together now but… confessing was never something i was very good at, so i didn’t want any of us to say anything to you. nobody wins the lottery six times.”

“i was the same,” hoseok says. “i was ready to bury my feelings again. as much as i wanted it, and as much as it felt like you were the last puzzle piece, i didn’t want us to take that step. i was—i’m so scared, namjoon.”

namjoon gapes at him, concerned and frustrated and confused and impatient. “scared of what?”

“scared that you don’t love us the way that we love you,” yoongi says, finally.

do they mean that they love him, romantically? the way he loves them and they love each other?

namjoon waits for someone to laugh, to tell him that this is made-up, maybe this whole story is a lie, because there’s no way it’s not fantasy.

but yoongi’s expression remains serious and unchanged as he stares right at namjoon’s slippers, pointedly avoiding his eyes, and namjoon has a feeling this might be real.

“me?” he manages, after a long moment of silence.

“yes,” seokjin says.

“you love me?” he asks again.

“well, yes, of course,” hoseok says with a frown. “but what we mean is that we’re in love with you.”

“the way you’re in love with each other?” namjoon asks one last time, needing one more reassurance, one more chance for the others to stop this madness before namjoon’s hopes get up too high.

“yes!” taehyung exclaims impatiently, and jimin hides a startled laugh in jungkook’s shoulder.

“oh my god,” namjoon murmurs. the others only stare at him, anxious and confused, and namjoon struggles to find the words. “i mean, me too. i love you. i’m in love with you. all of you. i—i love you so much.”

“oh, thank god,” yoongi says. hoseok smiles brightly and seokjin exhales in relief. taehyung bounces in his seat, and jimin squeezes jungkook tighter.

“i mean, fuck, how could i not?” asks namjoon, and as he rambles on jimin bursts out of his seat to run behind namjoon’s chair and wrap his arms around namjoon’s shoulders. “you’re the best part of my life. and i promise i love you, and i loved you for being happy together, but i think if the six of you were together and i was supposed to just go on knowing that you chose to be without me, i would have died of a broken heart.”

“hyung,” jimin whines, nuzzling into namjoon’s nape, and the funny thing is that it’s familiar. he’s not used to laying his heart on the line for them, no. but he’s used to the familiar feeling of jimin’s nose against his neck. he’s used to the feeling of taehyung clinging to him the way he does now, having gotten up to sit at namjoon’s feet, his arms wrapped around namjoon’s calf possessively.

“no more sad,” taehyung says cutely, and namjoon smiles at him. he’s used to the feeling of jungkook coming over to take one of his hands in his own, and he’s used to the feeling of the adoring gaze of seokjin, yoongi, and hoseok as they process everything. he’s used to being loved by them, even if he didn’t know it yet.

“don’t cry, namjoon-ah, you’re just going to embarrass yourself,” yoongi chides, and namjoon frowns because sure, some tears have welled up in his eyes, but it’s not like he’s actually crying—

but then he sees that there are tear tracks running down yoongi’s cheeks. seokjin coos softly and hoseok tuts, pulling his sleeve down to tend to yoongi but namjoon gets there first. he kneels in front of the couch at yoongi’s feet, wipes away his tears, holds his face in his hands, and lets yoongi lean down to kiss him.

he couldn’t form a coherent thought right now if he tried, not with yoongi’s soft lips against his, stubborn and loving in all the right ways. so namjoon acts on instinct, on desire. he kisses yoongi until it’s no longer just lovely and warm but heated and overwhelming, each drinking in the taste of the other at the first chance they’ve ever gotten. when he has to, he pulls away, breathing heavily, with his forehead against yoongi’s, and when yoongi giggles against his lips namjoon can’t help but kiss him one more time.

“i love you,” namjoon mutters, his eyes shut, because he’s never been able to look yoongi in the eye in moments like this. although, he’s never exactly had a moment like this.

he opens his eyes then, and cups yoongi’s cheek. yoongi’s eyes flutter open and when namjoon repeats himself, he feels yoongi shiver in his arms. he abruptly remembers everyone’s eyes on them, and is vaguely aware of the way jungkook had gasped loudly watching namjoon and yoongi kiss, and there’s an overwhelming flood of too many feelings all at once in namjoon’s chest until—

“oh, yoongi-chi,” seokjin sighs fondly, rubbing his hands up and down yoongi’s arms like he’s warming him up in cold weather, and yoongi stops crying and giggles instead.

“hyung,” namjoon laughs, and seokjin gives him a delighted smile as namjoon grabs seokjin by the shirt and pulls him in for a kiss.

namjoon doesn’t have the self-control or the emotional energy to stop himself from giggling against seokjin’s lips, so they kiss between soft sounds of mirth and quiet content hums, and eventually a few voices piping up when the others want a turn kissing namjoon.

the flustered flush in namjoon’s cheeks only worsens when seokjin pulls back to kiss the tip of his nose and let the others get their chance.

the moment seokjin releases him, namjoon is pounced on by taehyung, who latches onto his back like a koala and lands kisses in namjoon’s hair, on his ear, down his shoulder and at his throat until he’s pressing softer kisses against his jaw, slowly and sensually, and namjoon is too impatient to wait any longer. he brings taehyung’s lips to his with a finger under his chin, guiding him close and keeping him there with his arms around taehyung. taehyung kisses hard and fast, curling around namjoon like he wants to swallow him whole.

he suspects his own pupils are as blown as taehyung’s are when they pull back, gasping for air and grinning at the sound of seokjin wolf-whistling.

jimin joins them on the floor then, straddling namjoon’s lap and grabbing his cheeks before he can react.

“i told them,” jimin says seriously. “i told the hyungs you loved us back. they didn’t believe me, but i told them so! i could see it in your eyes.”

jimin leans in, slow and patient, and kisses namjoon’s closed eyelids with intimacy that should feel too soon but doesn’t.

“in my defense,” yoongi says abruptly. “namjoon and i only make eye contact about once a year, so that’s probably how i missed that.”

“quiet, you’re ruining our moment,” jimin says, not bothering to look behind him to tell yoongi off. instead, he covers namjoon’s ears with the heels of his palms, looks at him with an intense, unbreaking gaze, and kisses him soundly.

unable to hear anything other than his rushed heartbeat in his ears, namjoon obsesses over every brush of jimin’s plump lips against his, soft like clouds as he sucks in namjoon’s lower lip, teasing it only to let go. there’s a swipe of his tongue against namjoon’s lip, and then jimin pulls back with an overjoyed smile.

“there’s more where that came from, if you want it,” jimin says coyly. namjoon can only stare at him with a big dumb smile, breathless.

there’s a soothing hand on his shoulder now, and then another in his hair, anchoring him and stopping him from floating away when it feels like his heart has lifted into the sky.

“me next?” hoseok asks namjoon sweetly, like he’s trying to act cute but it comes out a bit shy. namjoon nods in response, embarrassingly eager, and hoseok gives him an endeared smile as namjoon scrambles onto the empty spot on the couch next to him. he runs his hands down namjoon’s arms, across his chest like he can’t believe he’s really there in front of him, and namjoon melts underneath his touch, falling pliantly into their kiss.

hoseok’s fingertips brush over namjoon’s neck, tracing his jawline and grazing over the hair at the base of his head. his lips move just as delicately, gentle and loving like namjoon is precious cargo. namjoon feels safe and small even though hoseok fits right in his arms; he feels at home.

“i never thought i’d get to do that,” hoseok whispers against namjoon’s lips when he pulls away.

“you can do that however many more times you like,” namjoon blurts, and the smile hoseok gives him in response is radiant.

“i think the little one wants his turn first,” hoseok laughs, and guides namjoon with a finger on his jaw to look at jungkook standing in front of him, eagerly rolling onto the tips of his toes.

“hi,” jungkook says, and namjoon takes his hands in his own to pull him close. he’s about to stand from the couch so he can grab jungkook and give him a proper kiss, but instead, jungkook slides onto his lap, straddling his thighs with a sweet smile that reaches his eyes.

“is this real?” namjoon finds himself mumbling as jungkook reaches out to cup his jaw, rubbing soft circles on namjoon’s skin with his thumbs.

“i don’t care,” jungkook answers, and namjoon wraps his arms around jungkook’s waist, partly to help keep him securely on namjoon’s lap, partly to pull him impossibly closer. he cranes his neck up and jungkook leans down and their lips meet in a kiss.

jungkook makes namjoon feel like he’s being kissed everywhere, his heart racing and his palms sweating and a fire burning deep in his gut as jungkook kisses his lips.

when jungkook pulls away he’s staring at namjoon with huge eyes, his palms pressed against namjoon’s chest with his fingertips brushing the bare skin of his clavicle just past the hem of his shirt, and something latent erupts in namjoon’s heart, blossoms in his heart until he can barely breathe.

he leans back in, pressing kisses against jungkook’s forehead, his cheeks, his pretty nose until he’s whining, wiggling out of namjoon’s grasp with an embarrassed giggle. there are hands on jungkook’s thighs and his hips that aren’t his own, the others keeping jungkook steady as they watch the two of them happily. there are hands on namjoon too, in his hair and his back and then his jaw when seokjin is pulling him back for another kiss and he feels loved, so so loved, now that they are seven.

--

all things considered, a seven-person relationship is easier to navigate than a six-person relationship that’s a secret from the seventh person. it’s not until taehyung presses kisses to jungkook’s forehead, and hoseok calls yoongi jagi instead of hyung, and jimin falls asleep in seokjin’s arms that namjoon realizes how much loving intimacy they’ve had to keep secret. granted, they weren’t exactly subtle with the PDA before namjoon knew what was going on.

but it’s not like nothing’s changed. now when namjoon walks out of his studio, forlorn after too many hours without sunlight, he’s smothered with food and considerate questions and praise and sometimes he’s literally smothered with kisses when the others just want to express how happy they are to see him. when he wants to be alone he’s comforted by the knowledge that the six people who love him the most know him well enough to give him space when he needs it. and when he doesn’t want to be alone, all it takes is texting the groupchat or stepping outside his bedroom door or even just shouting loud enough for someone to hear him through the walls.

sometimes yoongi will come along, asking if namjoon needed help with something, and when namjoon asks if he needs a reason in order to see his boyfriend, yoongi rolls his eyes and flushes pink. sometimes seokjin and jungkook will peek their heads into namjoon’s room because they’re having a very serious disagreement about super mario party and they’d love for namjoon to maybe give his input, or maybe moderate the heated match they’re about to have, or maybe offer himself and his kisses as the prize to whoever wins their competition. sometimes taehyung, jimin, and hoseok will race each other to namjoon’s door to show him the song or lyric or drawing or dance they’ve been working on, and hours will go by as they have excited discussions about the art they’re creating.

namjoon’s favorite moments are when they’re all together. sometimes, during rehearsals or group discussions, or in award venues or concert stadiums, or just on quiet nights in with the boyfriends, namjoon will take a moment to take stock of what he has. he looks around, counts seven, and smiles.